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Your writing is so gorgeous, wow- uhm, could I ask for Scar (from any season, I don't mind!) with a GN!Reader who tends to notice smaller things about everything, but mainly about him and his builds? I watch him a lot and notice he kind of hums after he laughs and it's incredibly endearing <3 And all of his builds and character designs are so intricate, I can't help but get excited about the details! I don't mind if it's platonic or romantic, just wanna show Mr. Goodtimes some love!
I don't mind what format, headcanons or fics, everything you write is super :D
I hope it's alright, I took it in a slightly different direction but I do hope that you still enjoy it!
With one last pat to the dirt you sit back, happy with your work so far.
You admire the small but messy tree, wiping the mud from your hands as best you can.
Today you'd repotted your bonsai, it needed a little more space for the root system.
The tree had been a gift from your long time best friend and romantic partner, Mr. Goodtimes.
Scar had bought you it recently out of the blue, offering you no explanation.
You'd taken the gift, and made Scar promise to show you how to take care of it.
Organics are Scar's thing, he has always had a talent for terraforming and shaping plants.
While you have some skill you don't meet his level.
And so you had asked for his help to trim the leaves of the tree, which were the only other thing that needed tending to.
The tree was still in pretty good condition when you received it, just in need of a little care.
Bang on time you hear the door open, Scar having set this time to come help you the other day.
"What a beautiful job you've done." The smile is evident in his voice, you don't even have to turn around to know that.
Scar comes up behind you, reaching around your body to run his fingers over the pot, the small pattern catching his attention first.
"Did you make this?," he asks, feeling the texture of the glazed clay.
"I did. Do you like it?"
"I love it, and I love you." You turn your head to look at him, Scar not hesitating to steal a quick kiss before coming to be beside you.
"I love you too, now will you help me with the leaves?" Scar nods, producing a small pair of shears from seemingly nowhere.
"I told you I would show you, so, let's get started." He smiles softly before turning his attention to the tree.
Scar delicately prunes the branches, making sure there will be no growth where it isn't wanted.
Shaping the tree is a big part of the hobby after all, he emphasises that point in his explanation.
You watch carefully as his fingers brush over the leaves, the bark, carefully snipping away.
Once the explanation is over he continues to trim the leaves, humming as he shapes.
Something he does no matter the project.
Watching him work has always been one of your favourite things. So much so it's hard to pay full attention to what he's actually doing.
You're so focused on the little movements his hands are making, how gentle and precise he is handling the tree.
How thought out ever little detail is, he never misses a thing.
Your eyes wander up to his face, his eyebrows ever so slightly furrowed as he focuses fully on what he's doing.
His green eyes are fixed on the tree, twinkling with a joy you've seen countless times before.
There are so many things you pick up on, when he's tending to the garden or building something of his own.
When he works on something he loves there is always the ghost of a smile on his face.
He always uses his hands to feel a surface before and after doing anything.
Scar often will hum quietly as he works, sometimes a tune, sometimes in acknowledgement of what he's doing.
He's a wonder to watch work, you often do. Wherever you can.
"Your turn." Scar says suddenly.
"I what?"
"It's your turn, I am teaching you how to do this yourself. " He chuckles.
Slowly you take the shears from his hand.
He keeps his hand over yours, guiding you to a section of the bonsai still needing a trim.
The very tip top.
After the first few he lets go of you with a hum, content in watching you try yourself.
Scar still helps you with which branches need to be removed, until the tree is finished.
It looks like it did before, just much neater and shapely.
Although you can't take credit for its looks.
"It's beautiful, thank you." You beam, watching as Scar runs his hand over the leaves before following the curve of the trunk, some of the visible roots and all the way to the pot you have the bonsai now sitting in.
"I can't take full credit." He smiles, "you put just as much effort into this."
"Oh don't be silly."
"I'm not, really, it wouldn't look nearly as good without the pot." He runs his fingertips over the small pattern, before turning to face you.
"It's a beautiful tree for my beautiful partner."
"Oh Scar." You sigh happily, watching his eyes gleam with joy.
He chuckles quietly, placing a kiss atop your head.
It's the little things that make you both happy.
Your writing is so gorgeous, wow- uhm, could I ask for Scar (from any season, I don't mind!) with a GN!Reader who tends to notice smaller things about everything, but mainly about him and his builds? I watch him a lot and notice he kind of hums after he laughs and it's incredibly endearing <3 And all of his builds and character designs are so intricate, I can't help but get excited about the details! I don't mind if it's platonic or romantic, just wanna show Mr. Goodtimes some love!
I don't mind what format, headcanons or fics, everything you write is super :D
I hope it's alright, I took it in a slightly different direction but I do hope that you still enjoy it!
With one last pat to the dirt you sit back, happy with your work so far.
You admire the small but messy tree, wiping the mud from your hands as best you can.
Today you'd repotted your bonsai, it needed a little more space for the root system.
The tree had been a gift from your long time best friend and romantic partner, Mr. Goodtimes.
Scar had bought you it recently out of the blue, offering you no explanation.
You'd taken the gift, and made Scar promise to show you how to take care of it.
Organics are Scar's thing, he has always had a talent for terraforming and shaping plants.
While you have some skill you don't meet his level.
And so you had asked for his help to trim the leaves of the tree, which were the only other thing that needed tending to.
The tree was still in pretty good condition when you received it, just in need of a little care.
Bang on time you hear the door open, Scar having set this time to come help you the other day.
"What a beautiful job you've done." The smile is evident in his voice, you don't even have to turn around to know that.
Scar comes up behind you, reaching around your body to run his fingers over the pot, the small pattern catching his attention first.
"Did you make this?," he asks, feeling the texture of the glazed clay.
"I did. Do you like it?"
"I love it, and I love you." You turn your head to look at him, Scar not hesitating to steal a quick kiss before coming to be beside you.
"I love you too, now will you help me with the leaves?" Scar nods, producing a small pair of shears from seemingly nowhere.
"I told you I would show you, so, let's get started." He smiles softly before turning his attention to the tree.
Scar delicately prunes the branches, making sure there will be no growth where it isn't wanted.
Shaping the tree is a big part of the hobby after all, he emphasises that point in his explanation.
You watch carefully as his fingers brush over the leaves, the bark, carefully snipping away.
Once the explanation is over he continues to trim the leaves, humming as he shapes.
Something he does no matter the project.
Watching him work has always been one of your favourite things. So much so it's hard to pay full attention to what he's actually doing.
You're so focused on the little movements his hands are making, how gentle and precise he is handling the tree.
How thought out ever little detail is, he never misses a thing.
Your eyes wander up to his face, his eyebrows ever so slightly furrowed as he focuses fully on what he's doing.
His green eyes are fixed on the tree, twinkling with a joy you've seen countless times before.
There are so many things you pick up on, when he's tending to the garden or building something of his own.
When he works on something he loves there is always the ghost of a smile on his face.
He always uses his hands to feel a surface before and after doing anything.
Scar often will hum quietly as he works, sometimes a tune, sometimes in acknowledgement of what he's doing.
He's a wonder to watch work, you often do. Wherever you can.
"Your turn." Scar says suddenly.
"I what?"
"It's your turn, I am teaching you how to do this yourself. " He chuckles.
Slowly you take the shears from his hand.
He keeps his hand over yours, guiding you to a section of the bonsai still needing a trim.
The very tip top.
After the first few he lets go of you with a hum, content in watching you try yourself.
Scar still helps you with which branches need to be removed, until the tree is finished.
It looks like it did before, just much neater and shapely.
Although you can't take credit for its looks.
"It's beautiful, thank you." You beam, watching as Scar runs his hand over the leaves before following the curve of the trunk, some of the visible roots and all the way to the pot you have the bonsai now sitting in.
"I can't take full credit." He smiles, "you put just as much effort into this."
"Oh don't be silly."
"I'm not, really, it wouldn't look nearly as good without the pot." He runs his fingertips over the small pattern, before turning to face you.
"It's a beautiful tree for my beautiful partner."
"Oh Scar." You sigh happily, watching his eyes gleam with joy.
He chuckles quietly, placing a kiss atop your head.
It's the little things that make you both happy.
Anya is live and ready to show you everything. Watch her strip, dance, and perform exclusive shows just for you. Interact in real-time and make your fantasies come true.
✓ Live Streaming✓ Interactive Chat✓ Private Shows✓ HD Quality
Anya is LIVE right now
FREE
Free to watch • No registration required • HD streaming
Your writing is so gorgeous, wow- uhm, could I ask for Scar (from any season, I don't mind!) with a GN!Reader who tends to notice smaller things about everything, but mainly about him and his builds? I watch him a lot and notice he kind of hums after he laughs and it's incredibly endearing <3 And all of his builds and character designs are so intricate, I can't help but get excited about the details! I don't mind if it's platonic or romantic, just wanna show Mr. Goodtimes some love!
I don't mind what format, headcanons or fics, everything you write is super :D
I hope it's alright, I took it in a slightly different direction but I do hope that you still enjoy it!
With one last pat to the dirt you sit back, happy with your work so far.
You admire the small but messy tree, wiping the mud from your hands as best you can.
Today you'd repotted your bonsai, it needed a little more space for the root system.
The tree had been a gift from your long time best friend and romantic partner, Mr. Goodtimes.
Scar had bought you it recently out of the blue, offering you no explanation.
You'd taken the gift, and made Scar promise to show you how to take care of it.
Organics are Scar's thing, he has always had a talent for terraforming and shaping plants.
While you have some skill you don't meet his level.
And so you had asked for his help to trim the leaves of the tree, which were the only other thing that needed tending to.
The tree was still in pretty good condition when you received it, just in need of a little care.
Bang on time you hear the door open, Scar having set this time to come help you the other day.
"What a beautiful job you've done." The smile is evident in his voice, you don't even have to turn around to know that.
Scar comes up behind you, reaching around your body to run his fingers over the pot, the small pattern catching his attention first.
"Did you make this?," he asks, feeling the texture of the glazed clay.
"I did. Do you like it?"
"I love it, and I love you." You turn your head to look at him, Scar not hesitating to steal a quick kiss before coming to be beside you.
"I love you too, now will you help me with the leaves?" Scar nods, producing a small pair of shears from seemingly nowhere.
"I told you I would show you, so, let's get started." He smiles softly before turning his attention to the tree.
Scar delicately prunes the branches, making sure there will be no growth where it isn't wanted.
Shaping the tree is a big part of the hobby after all, he emphasises that point in his explanation.
You watch carefully as his fingers brush over the leaves, the bark, carefully snipping away.
Once the explanation is over he continues to trim the leaves, humming as he shapes.
Something he does no matter the project.
Watching him work has always been one of your favourite things. So much so it's hard to pay full attention to what he's actually doing.
You're so focused on the little movements his hands are making, how gentle and precise he is handling the tree.
How thought out ever little detail is, he never misses a thing.
Your eyes wander up to his face, his eyebrows ever so slightly furrowed as he focuses fully on what he's doing.
His green eyes are fixed on the tree, twinkling with a joy you've seen countless times before.
There are so many things you pick up on, when he's tending to the garden or building something of his own.
When he works on something he loves there is always the ghost of a smile on his face.
He always uses his hands to feel a surface before and after doing anything.
Scar often will hum quietly as he works, sometimes a tune, sometimes in acknowledgement of what he's doing.
He's a wonder to watch work, you often do. Wherever you can.
"Your turn." Scar says suddenly.
"I what?"
"It's your turn, I am teaching you how to do this yourself. " He chuckles.
Slowly you take the shears from his hand.
He keeps his hand over yours, guiding you to a section of the bonsai still needing a trim.
The very tip top.
After the first few he lets go of you with a hum, content in watching you try yourself.
Scar still helps you with which branches need to be removed, until the tree is finished.
It looks like it did before, just much neater and shapely.
Although you can't take credit for its looks.
"It's beautiful, thank you." You beam, watching as Scar runs his hand over the leaves before following the curve of the trunk, some of the visible roots and all the way to the pot you have the bonsai now sitting in.
"I can't take full credit." He smiles, "you put just as much effort into this."
"Oh don't be silly."
"I'm not, really, it wouldn't look nearly as good without the pot." He runs his fingertips over the small pattern, before turning to face you.
"It's a beautiful tree for my beautiful partner."
"Oh Scar." You sigh happily, watching his eyes gleam with joy.
He chuckles quietly, placing a kiss atop your head.
It's the little things that make you both happy.
18) Don't You Dare (Make Me Fall in Love With You)
"Has anyone noticed-" Grian was cut off
"That the moon is getting bigger?" Mumbo asked
"Uh yes- but that's not what I was going to talk about," Grian said before turning t the rest of boatem again "Has anyone noticed that Y/n is acting a bit... odd?"
"Yeah," Impulse spoke up "It's almost... Almost like they're avoiding us."
"I noticed that too," Scar muttered and fidgeted with his hands "They haven't even been coming out of their starter base, except to move things to their megabase."
"Should we check on them?" Grian asked
"NO!" Pearl and Mumbo exclaim
The group looks at them curiously and Pearl continues quietly "I think they need some time alone, I mean they're hiding for a reason, right? When I returned, Mumbo greeted me and we went to see Y/n. When We got into their home, they were asleep and we almost left until we began to hear trashing and a loud sob. They were having a nightmare. So we woke them up. I could never forget the terrified look on their face."
"They kept apologizing and held us both close and asking us not to hate them," Mumbo whispered
"We stayed with them for a bit until they fell back to sleep," Pearl said "But that was the last time we saw them."
"Admittedly, I am worried about them," Mumbo said "I've never seen them like that. It's... terrifying not knowing what going on in their head and not being able to help."
"Should we do something for them?" Impulse asked
"We should!" Scar said, "Maybe something small, like making them dinner or helping them move their chests to their mega build."
"Yeah!" Grian smiled and his wings fluttered in excitement "I bet they would absolutely love that!"
"No thanks," Y/n forced a smile on their face before running away with their arms full of shulkers
The group had just offered their services to Y/n only to be rejected and ran away from
"That was... odd," Pearl said and wrung her hands out "Let's try something else?"
Time after time and attempt after attempt, Y/n either shot them down or avoided them completely
it wasn't like them.
And it made The rest of the Boatem crew concerned for their angel
So, they devised a plan
"This isn't our greatest idea," Mumbo said attempting to talk the rest out of this "They have a reason for avoiding us? Do we really have to do this?"
"Y/n has a track record of avoiding things for long, long, LONG times," Xisuma says "I think this is the best way to get her t tell you what you guys wanna know... Albeit a bit forced."
"Thanks, X," Impulse smiled and fiddled with his fingers
Everyone was nervous about this approach, they knew Y/n would eventually open up to them, it was just no telling how long.
"Let's go," Grian said "And let's hope this doesn't hurt Y/n."
Y/n paced their cathedral halls, checking the deals on the villagers hidden underneath iron trapdoors and their lecterns or smithing tables hiding the blazing magma block underneath as they made sure everything was in order.
Once they were done, the only thing out of order was the twisting feeling in their gut... like something bad will happen
oh boy
did something bad happen
Y/n had to face the people they were avoiding, their crushes
shit
Being tied to a chair wasn't that bad usually. After everything, they've been through they probably had a higher pain tolerance than anyone on the hermitcraft dimensions
What made it worse is the stares that demanded answers from them
"Are You okay Y/n?" Pearl asked softly and caressed their cheek, Y/n melting into the touch they longed for "Why are you avoiding us?"
Y/n snapped back to their reality and with sad eyes, gently pulled back from Pearl's touch before shaking their head
"Do you need us to help you?" Scar asked and his voice made Y/n want to curl into his side
Y/n didn't realize how much they missed the rest of the Boatem crew and tears welled up in their eyes as they realized they might have to do this forever to get over them
"Talk to us Angel," Impulse kneeled in front of them "We're here to listen to everything you have to say."
"Don't you dare make me fall in love with you," Y/n croaked, throat constricted and eyes watery "Don't you dare enchant me with those eyes. If I fell through your skies, there's no way you would catch me. There's a tear in my heart, but your patch wouldn't match me. Being near you still adds to the size of my sighs. There's still seismic events at hellos and goodbyes, and I still need reminders of why it's unwise to stare. So don't you dare..."
"Y/n?" Grian asked, his familiar hand made Y/n melt to his touch and sigh in relief before continuing with their eyes forced closed
"Don't you dare make me fall in love with you... Don't you dare do something so cliché. Just get out of my daydreams, you're an unwelcome guest and stop making me miss you 'cause you leaving's for the best. 'Cause I just couldn't stand having you as my crutch
"You're a simmering stovetop I was tempted to touch. If you ever return, it'll burn me too much to bear... So don't you dare..." Wet droplets sparkled as they fell from Y/n's eyes and the group watched as the love of their life cried softly while attempting to reject them
"And I know it's all so shallow, but a shallow cut still stings! And before my heart becomes Amelia's heir, I need to clip its wings!" Grian winced at the metaphor and Y/n's chest heaved as they continued "So don't you dare keep mocking me with those thousand little things that I adore! Let me ignore you, don't let me care!
"And don't you dare leave me still in love with you! Nothing's fair when love is war!" Y/n sobbed as they shouted their words to the group who stood speechless at them, wanting nothing more than to comfort them, to hug them, to remind them that they are safe and they will still love Y/n... even if they didn't want it "And I just can't endure any more of the fight! When the casualties rise with my heart rate each night! Though I know I'm to blame for the glances I'd steal, for the time I kept spending pretending it's real... And now that it's ending, I still have more feelings to spare!
"But don't you dare... Don't you dare..." Y/n slumped in their chair, head ducked in attempts to hide their red blotchy face, to hide the tears of knowing Y/n wanted them but knowing they can't dare to even think about having them, to hide the tears that just can't seem to stop at the thought of losing Boatem
of losing their symphony
It was just... too much to even imagine
At least, it was until a hand brought Y/n's face up to look at the group
Mumbo
"Oh Angel," He sighed "Is that why you were avoiding us? Because You were scared of falling in love?"
Y/n nodded softly and Grian moved behind them to untie the bounds "I don't want you guys to find the imperfections in me after we start dating and then... leave... I never want that again. I never want to be used for your greedy purpose only to be discarded when you guys find someone else." More tears welled up in their eyes "I don't want to be the imperfect stain on your life."
"Oh my angel, to me, You're perfect." Mumbo sighed and pressed his lips to their forehead. When he pulled away Y/n grabbed his face and pulled him down to press a kiss to his lips, gritty with redstone dust but lighting up with the electricity between them. Mumbo gently wiped Y/n's tears off with his thumb as he mumbled sweet nothings against their lips
Once they pulled apart and caught their breath, Mumbo pulled them into his arms and held them tightly as they calmed down in his arms. The others joined in to either sit next to Y/n or place a hand on Y/n
just to remind them that they were there and would never leave
Y/n had never felt so... adored
Is this what it felt like to be truly loved by people?
18) Don't You Dare (Make Me Fall in Love With You)
"Has anyone noticed-" Grian was cut off
"That the moon is getting bigger?" Mumbo asked
"Uh yes- but that's not what I was going to talk about," Grian said before turning t the rest of boatem again "Has anyone noticed that Y/n is acting a bit... odd?"
"Yeah," Impulse spoke up "It's almost... Almost like they're avoiding us."
"I noticed that too," Scar muttered and fidgeted with his hands "They haven't even been coming out of their starter base, except to move things to their megabase."
"Should we check on them?" Grian asked
"NO!" Pearl and Mumbo exclaim
The group looks at them curiously and Pearl continues quietly "I think they need some time alone, I mean they're hiding for a reason, right? When I returned, Mumbo greeted me and we went to see Y/n. When We got into their home, they were asleep and we almost left until we began to hear trashing and a loud sob. They were having a nightmare. So we woke them up. I could never forget the terrified look on their face."
"They kept apologizing and held us both close and asking us not to hate them," Mumbo whispered
"We stayed with them for a bit until they fell back to sleep," Pearl said "But that was the last time we saw them."
"Admittedly, I am worried about them," Mumbo said "I've never seen them like that. It's... terrifying not knowing what going on in their head and not being able to help."
"Should we do something for them?" Impulse asked
"We should!" Scar said, "Maybe something small, like making them dinner or helping them move their chests to their mega build."
"Yeah!" Grian smiled and his wings fluttered in excitement "I bet they would absolutely love that!"
"No thanks," Y/n forced a smile on their face before running away with their arms full of shulkers
The group had just offered their services to Y/n only to be rejected and ran away from
"That was... odd," Pearl said and wrung her hands out "Let's try something else?"
Time after time and attempt after attempt, Y/n either shot them down or avoided them completely
it wasn't like them.
And it made The rest of the Boatem crew concerned for their angel
So, they devised a plan
"This isn't our greatest idea," Mumbo said attempting to talk the rest out of this "They have a reason for avoiding us? Do we really have to do this?"
"Y/n has a track record of avoiding things for long, long, LONG times," Xisuma says "I think this is the best way to get her t tell you what you guys wanna know... Albeit a bit forced."
"Thanks, X," Impulse smiled and fiddled with his fingers
Everyone was nervous about this approach, they knew Y/n would eventually open up to them, it was just no telling how long.
"Let's go," Grian said "And let's hope this doesn't hurt Y/n."
Y/n paced their cathedral halls, checking the deals on the villagers hidden underneath iron trapdoors and their lecterns or smithing tables hiding the blazing magma block underneath as they made sure everything was in order.
Once they were done, the only thing out of order was the twisting feeling in their gut... like something bad will happen
oh boy
did something bad happen
Y/n had to face the people they were avoiding, their crushes
shit
Being tied to a chair wasn't that bad usually. After everything, they've been through they probably had a higher pain tolerance than anyone on the hermitcraft dimensions
What made it worse is the stares that demanded answers from them
"Are You okay Y/n?" Pearl asked softly and caressed their cheek, Y/n melting into the touch they longed for "Why are you avoiding us?"
Y/n snapped back to their reality and with sad eyes, gently pulled back from Pearl's touch before shaking their head
"Do you need us to help you?" Scar asked and his voice made Y/n want to curl into his side
Y/n didn't realize how much they missed the rest of the Boatem crew and tears welled up in their eyes as they realized they might have to do this forever to get over them
"Talk to us Angel," Impulse kneeled in front of them "We're here to listen to everything you have to say."
"Don't you dare make me fall in love with you," Y/n croaked, throat constricted and eyes watery "Don't you dare enchant me with those eyes. If I fell through your skies, there's no way you would catch me. There's a tear in my heart, but your patch wouldn't match me. Being near you still adds to the size of my sighs. There's still seismic events at hellos and goodbyes, and I still need reminders of why it's unwise to stare. So don't you dare..."
"Y/n?" Grian asked, his familiar hand made Y/n melt to his touch and sigh in relief before continuing with their eyes forced closed
"Don't you dare make me fall in love with you... Don't you dare do something so cliché. Just get out of my daydreams, you're an unwelcome guest and stop making me miss you 'cause you leaving's for the best. 'Cause I just couldn't stand having you as my crutch
"You're a simmering stovetop I was tempted to touch. If you ever return, it'll burn me too much to bear... So don't you dare..." Wet droplets sparkled as they fell from Y/n's eyes and the group watched as the love of their life cried softly while attempting to reject them
"And I know it's all so shallow, but a shallow cut still stings! And before my heart becomes Amelia's heir, I need to clip its wings!" Grian winced at the metaphor and Y/n's chest heaved as they continued "So don't you dare keep mocking me with those thousand little things that I adore! Let me ignore you, don't let me care!
"And don't you dare leave me still in love with you! Nothing's fair when love is war!" Y/n sobbed as they shouted their words to the group who stood speechless at them, wanting nothing more than to comfort them, to hug them, to remind them that they are safe and they will still love Y/n... even if they didn't want it "And I just can't endure any more of the fight! When the casualties rise with my heart rate each night! Though I know I'm to blame for the glances I'd steal, for the time I kept spending pretending it's real... And now that it's ending, I still have more feelings to spare!
"But don't you dare... Don't you dare..." Y/n slumped in their chair, head ducked in attempts to hide their red blotchy face, to hide the tears of knowing Y/n wanted them but knowing they can't dare to even think about having them, to hide the tears that just can't seem to stop at the thought of losing Boatem
of losing their symphony
It was just... too much to even imagine
At least, it was until a hand brought Y/n's face up to look at the group
Mumbo
"Oh Angel," He sighed "Is that why you were avoiding us? Because You were scared of falling in love?"
Y/n nodded softly and Grian moved behind them to untie the bounds "I don't want you guys to find the imperfections in me after we start dating and then... leave... I never want that again. I never want to be used for your greedy purpose only to be discarded when you guys find someone else." More tears welled up in their eyes "I don't want to be the imperfect stain on your life."
"Oh my angel, to me, You're perfect." Mumbo sighed and pressed his lips to their forehead. When he pulled away Y/n grabbed his face and pulled him down to press a kiss to his lips, gritty with redstone dust but lighting up with the electricity between them. Mumbo gently wiped Y/n's tears off with his thumb as he mumbled sweet nothings against their lips
Once they pulled apart and caught their breath, Mumbo pulled them into his arms and held them tightly as they calmed down in his arms. The others joined in to either sit next to Y/n or place a hand on Y/n
just to remind them that they were there and would never leave
Y/n had never felt so... adored
Is this what it felt like to be truly loved by people?
SYNOPSIS: (Modern AU) You’re an up-and-coming designer, he’s a billionaire playboy with a taste for expensive clothing. Could I make it any more obvious?
WARNINGS: Fluff and angst (with a happy ending), self-doubt, very mild language
A/N: You can have a little capitalism, as a treat. I may have, perhaps, gone a little overboard with this fic. Also, fun fact- I listened to Money by That Poppy and Malibu 1992 by COIN on loop while writing this. The vibes? Immaculate.
You considered money a... funny thing. The wealthy seemed to only get wealthier, while the poor, poorer.
To you, It was a virus, wrapping thick green roots all over people’s lives and digging in until there was nothing else left for it to take. Once a person had gotten a taste of wealth, of abundance, it was impossible for them to go back. Impossible for them to stop themselves from digging deeper and deeper into a pit of debt and desperation as they chased that ‘big break’, that pipe dream of having everything they could ever possibly want.
You had watched your parents be destroyed by it, sacrificing their dreams to take care of you. You had watched them give up so many things for you, working from sunup to sundown to scrape together enough finances to get you through school and into a prestigious design college.
You loved them all the more for doing so, you really did, but because of it, you found yourself slightly resentful of the people born into luxury. The people who didn’t have to choose between good housing or a good education. Of course, you couldn’t blame them for existing, exactly, but the constant interaction you had with them certainly didn’t help.
As one of the highest-marking graduates from your college, you were immediately hired by Gorgeous Inc., a custom clothing company whose services were among the best in the business. Their clientele list was a constantly rotating roster of celebrities, millionaires, and influencers that had all collectively decided to throw their money at an outfit they would wear only once.
The first few months on the job had been hell if you were being honest. You had started out as an assistant to one of the top clothiers, shuttling fitting supplies to and from appointments and trying not to piss off any of the customers too much.
Despite your best efforts, even when you weren’t the one saddled with the undivided attention of whatever trophy wife had booked a session that day, you still had to deal with plenty of tantrums. It seemed like none of these people had ever been taught how to behave when things didn’t go their way, even going so far as to smash the beautiful (and expensive) champagne glasses the company had custom-made on the ground in a fit of rage. So, yeah, your opinion had some real-world experience to back it up- especially when you considered that that wasn’t even the worst you had seen.
Eventually, you managed to work your way up the company hierarchy. You had never cared much for office politics and hadn’t done nearly as much kissing up to your bosses as some of your colleagues, but when clients started to become more and more interested in your work specifically- well, it was in Gorgeous Inc.’s best interest to promote you.
Of course, with your promotion to managing long-term customers, it was inevitable that you would run into him. Scar Goodtimes, the CEO of ConCorp Enterprises.
Known for his love of couture clothing, and his even greater love for his cat Jellie, Scar was one of the most prominent figures in the upper circle- part of a highly exclusive group of the egregiously rich known as ‘the Hermits’. (Everyone wanted to be a member, nobody could afford it)
With fame comes plenty of gossip. You’d heard plenty of things about him in passing, but the thing that stuck out the most in your head was his status as the upper echelon’s ‘most eligible bachelor’. Despite his great fortune, the man had never married- stringing his starry-eyed admirers along with as much effort as batting an eye.
You weren’t about to lie and say you weren’t slightly apprehensive when his secretary had reached out to schedule an appointment with you. After all, if the people you had to deal with so far were merely ants compared to him, you could only assume that his behavior would be much worse.
With every scrap of professionalism you had left in your body, you made the promise to yourself that you would give him nothing- no reason to possibly blow up on you. You were going to be the best Prime-damned consultant he had ever met.
Naturally, your whole plan fell apart as soon as you set foot into the room you had booked for your first meeting. As with all of Gorgeous Inc.’s fitting rooms, the decoration was opulent, yet tasteful. Your shoes sank into the plush carpet as you approached the sitting area near the center of the space, several soft-looking armchairs arranged in a staggered circle around a mahogany table.
You were early, as you always were, taking the extra time to set up for Scar’s- Mojang above, you still couldn’t quite believe you were fitting him- appointment. With an ease that only came from months of practice, you laid out the binder filled with fabric swatches and clothing designs that you never seemed to part with. The object was barely even able to close with how many ideas you had managed to stuff in it, and it was a miracle that it hadn’t exploded and sent paper flying everywhere already.
You jolted when the door opened, recovering almost immediately and turning with a polite smile towards the person who sauntered in. Your customer-service façade faltered as your eyes met his, every thought fleeing from your head as your breath hitched in your throat.
Oh no, he’s hot.
You had always been skeptical of how much the billionaire’s looks had been played up, but meeting him face-to-face wiped any and all doubt from your mind. His eyes, a stunning shade of green that reminded you of emeralds or lush rainforest foliage, glittered with an almost curious gleam as they pinned you in place. With inhumanly soft-looking hair and the barest hint of stubble brushed along his jaw, he radiated a confidence that sucked the air out of the room.
What parts of your brain were still functioning had the good grace to remember to shake his hand as he offered it to you, desperately scrambling to regain your composure. You were somewhat successful, gaining enough conscientiousness to introduce yourself with a pleasant incline of your chin.
“I’ll be excited to see what wardrobe we can come up for you,” you said, keeping your tone even and polite to disguise any residual panic that might slip in. You had to physically stop yourself from tensing as he chuckled, breaking eye contact with you for the first time since he entered to glance around the room.
“Let’s get started then, shall we?”
It was easier to ignore Scar’s… intense… presence when you were able to slip into the grove of your work, your smile becoming more and more genuine as you went through the design process. You were pleasantly surprised by just how knowledgeable the brunette was when it came to fabrics and composition, able to release some of the tension in your body when you realized that you wouldn’t have to talk him down from any impossible requests.
Of course, all of that stress came piling back on your shoulders the minute you had to take his measurements. You had never really thought about just how much you had to touch people in your line of work, but now you were painfully aware of every centimeter of your body that touched his, warmth leeching through the layers of his suit into the air between you.
Your hands were steady as they wound the tape measure around Scar’s torso, but internally you were freaking out. Every time you had to lean into his personal space, you were praying that he couldn’t feel how hard your heart was beating from the proximity.
It certainly didn’t help that his eyes seemed to be boring holes into your back as you moved around, tracking you as a predator would prey. It was so disquieting, in fact, that you tripped on the coffee table and went tumbling into his chest. Scar’s hands flew to your waist, steadying you as you regained your balance. You took a moment to process what had just happened, your mind blue-screening, oblivious to the way the billionaire’s hands curled into the material of your shirt.
“I am so sorry, sir,” you rushed out, stepping out of his hold and smoothing over the black turtleneck you wore as part of your uniform. He let go slowly, almost reluctantly, a strange expression flashing across his face before it smoothed back into neutrality. “It was an accident- I didn’t mean to crash into you like that.”
Scar waved you off, a dangerous gleam in his eyes that only added to the embarrassed flush that was working its way onto your face. “It’s fine, really. We all make mistakes.”
You finished what was left of the session in a rush, the feeling of eyes on you only adding to your haste to get out the door. You were certain that you would be fired as his consultant, what with all the mistakes you had made, but after a full day of nerve-wracking radio silence, you finally received a message:
‘When can you schedule another meeting?’
So, from then onwards you were subjected to a series of events that made you question your own reality. You were hired on as Scar’s permanent liaison to the company, working with him on any and all of the clothing pieces he commissioned and seeing them through every step of production. It was quite the step up for you- under normal circumstances, it would take people in your position several more years to directly work under someone as influential as the CEO.
Meetings with Scar were surprisingly… pleasant, almost. The man was infinitely patient where others were not, and knowledgeable about your line of work, so the weirdness of his behavior wasn’t necessarily in regards to that. No, it was completely different from anything you had experienced before.
Scar was polite, far more polite than any other person of his status you had ever met. He insisted on opening the door for you wherever you went, waving your protests that it was supposed to be your job to do that for him off with a wink and a grin. On more than one occasion he arranged for food to be brought in for the both of you while you did your work, warmth spreading through your body whenever your hands accidentally brushed while looking through papers.
The man also happened to have very little concept of ‘appropriate spending’. As you had learned through articles and your own time with him, Scar had inherited Concorp from his uncle, and had enjoyed money and power throughout his entire life. Things that seemed egregiously expensive to you, he would buy without a second thought.
One day, without any prompting or warning, he presented you with a pair of brand new fabric shears because ‘it looked like the old ones were getting a little dull’. They were quite obviously hand-crafted, with glossy silver blades and a handle carved with a design like clouds.
“S-sir!” you squeaked, your feet rooted to the floor. You were unable to get your body to do something, anything, other to stare slack-jawed at the gift in the brunette’s hands with a mixture of trepidation and awe. “I can’t possibly accept something like that!”
Scar chuckled, a fond smile dimpling his cheeks as he shoved the box into your awaiting hands. “You’re too sweet, sugar. I’ve already bought ‘em, and it would be a real waste if you didn’t use them. What would I do with something like these?”
He waved his arms around emphatically, earning a small giggle from you. “I would have no clue what to do with them at all! It’s better for both of us, really.”
You sighed in defeat, pointedly ignoring the triumphant expression on the billionaire’s face as you tucked the box carefully beside your other supplies. “I guess you’re right, sir. Thank you.”
“Hey- haven’t I told you a million times before to just call me by my name? ‘Sir’ makes me sound... old.”
“Sure it does, sir.”
“Hey!”
You found yourself looking forwards to your meetings with the man, your professional smile slowly turning more real as he cracked joke after joke. It was hard for you to justify the excitement you felt as the appointments drew ever nearer as enthusiasm for a new project, sometimes even cutting short previous appointments to spend just a few more minutes in his enthralling presence.
The man was like a star, effortlessly pulling you and so many others into his orbit with every smile, every little moment that he looked at you like you were somebody worth listening to. It was so, stupid. So, so stupid of you to allow yourself to drop that shield of professionalism that had protected you time and time again. To let yourself befriend the man. To believe that he cared about you at all.
You had seen his type before. A rich man charming his way into someone’s life with lavish presents and pretty words, only to discard them like a child would a toy. A rich man blowing into your life in a whirlwind of laughter and light touches, only to storm out just as quickly. A heartbreak waiting to happen.
Despite how much it hurt, many nights spent biting back tears all over him, it was best for you to take a step back. Distance yourself a little. Rebuild the heavy brick walls around yourself that he had managed to charm his way past, and keep him out for good this time.
Bit by bit, you started to pull away from him. Your meetings which were once filled with amicable and easy-flowing conversation had shifted in tone dramatically. Your replies to anything he said or asked were polite, yes, but clipped, nipping any possible small talk in the bud. You fully resigned yourself to the role of ‘distant but helpful assistant’, shoving the parts of you that had laughed at his jokes into the deepest recesses of your mind.
You weren’t here to play, anymore- not when you had wasted so much time pining over a man who could never love you like you wanted him to.
It was clear that Scar noticed the absence of your comforting presence by his side, a hollow space where you once stood. You caught the glances he sent your way when you weren’t looking, an expression that looked suspiciously like hurt flickering through his eyes (although you knew better than to believe that he could possibly be worried about you).
It shouldn’t have been as big a surprise as it was when the presents started rolling in in earnest.
It seemed like every other day a new package or trinket was innocently sitting on your desk whenever you arrived at work, always accompanied with a small note from the billionaire who (most likely) had no idea about the butterflies that spawned in your stomach just from seeing him, hearing his voice. You had saved every single one, ignoring the pang in your heart whenever you caught a glimpse of his chicken-scratch handwriting out of the corner of your eye.
“Hey.”
You jolted in your seat, a nauseating mix of butterflies and dread stirring in your stomach. That voice- a light timbre that you equally adored and feared- could only belong to one person, the last person you wanted to see right now. You twisted around to see Scar leaning against the doorway, hands tucked into the pockets of a pair of maroon corduroy pants that you had designed. “Um, hi?”
He shot you a grin (your heart skipping a beat), tilting his head to the side in a dog-like, but still so distinctly Scar, manner before stepping into your office. He rounded your desk, planting his arms against the smooth wood and staring down at you with an unreadable look in his eyes- fern green seeming to see straight into your soul. You hesitantly folded your hands in your lap, praying to Prime above that he couldn’t see the tremor in them, and arranged your features into the most neutral look you could. “Can I... help you?”
He blinked as if snapping out of some sort of trance, and shook his head to reorder his thoughts. “Yes, actually. Did you- did you like the glasses I sent you?”
Oh, the glasses. You had mentioned off-handedly one day that you were having problems with the sun getting in your eyes when you were driving, an annual issue that came with Daylight Savings. You should have known by now not to give the man any ideas, because barely twenty-four hours later and a brand new pair of Iskallium Premier sunglasses was waiting for you on your desk. Iskallium Premier, as in the number one couture glasses brand in Java.
You bit your lip, only just missing how Scar’s eyes flickered down to your mouth, and repressed the urge to slam your head against your office furniture.
“Yes, actually. I, uh, I appreciate the gesture, but…” you sighed, bringing a hand up to pinch the bridge of your nose. You did not want to do this confrontation. “I can’t take this.”
“Nonsense,” Scar said, mercifully leaning out of your space. “I ordered it directly from Iskall himself, just for you.”
Prime above, sometimes you forgot this man was just as, if not more, stubborn than you when he wanted to be. Unfortunately for him, this was not an argument he was going to win.
“No, sir- I genuinely cannot accept this. I know you mean the best, but you should just give these to one of your other employees. Not me.”
For the first time since you’d met him, Scar looked genuinely lost, brow furrowed and lips parted in surprise as he stared, wide-eyed, down at you. Despite your inner turmoil, your face was a mask of ice and marble as you met his gaze. You were not budging.
Scar shut his jaw with an audible ‘click’ after a moment of tense silence, still not breaking eye contact with you as he took a step back from the desk, furthering the distance between the both of you.
“Are you sure?” he said, searching your expression for any hesitation, but coming up empty. You fisted your hands, straightening your spine as much as you could to meet him head-on.
“Of course, sir.”
He exhaled slowly, face closing in a way that felt almost disappointed as he pulled away. Saying his goodbyes, the brunette took one more look over his shoulder before sweeping out of the room.
You locked your office the minute the sound of his footsteps faded away, curling up into a ball against the door and sobbing. You felt like glass, splintering into a million tiny fragments that could never be repaired. You felt like you were drowning, unable to breathe under the weight of your own emotions.
You had pushed Scar away to keep yourself from getting hurt, but every day you were with him but not with him, you were bleeding out from where you carved your heart out and handed it to him.
You called in sick after you managed to drag yourself home, clutching your phone in shaky fingers from where you were huddled under your blankets. You could only hope you had hidden the sound of your sniffles well enough- Mojang knows how fast gossip spreads through the corporate chain. At least you wouldn’t have to contact Scar (you refused to acknowledge how you almost started to cry just thinking about him)- your boss would do that for you.
The next few hours were spent wallowing in your own despair, eating straight from the ice cream carton, and watching whatever cheap rom-com movies you could find on television. Oh, if only your parents could see their pride and joy now- reduced to a teary, sensitive mess, all because you fell in love with a man who had never known a second of your struggles.
You fell asleep to the quiet murmur of the TV speakers, surrounded by tissues and an empty box of chocolates you had bought for yourself after valentine’s day.
The second day wasn’t any better than the first. You barely managed to force yourself into the shower before you collapsed back into bed, staring up at the ceiling. Now that you had no more tears left to cry, you were just… numb. Your chest ached, a hollowness that threatened to consume you radiating through your body.
You could only blink as knocking rang through your apartment, lazily flopping the arm you had thrown over your eyes to the side to stare blankly at the door. You were roused from your lethargy when whoever outside knocked again, this time with so much force they were practically banging on the cheap wood.
Calling out for them to ‘Give you a second’, you shuffled over and swung open the door to come face-to-face with sharp green eyes, soft brown hair, and a face lined with worry.
Oh.
Oh no.
“S-Sir?” you said, suddenly very conscious of just how much of a mess you were. Your eyes were bloodshot and rimmed with red, a clear sign that you had been crying, and the oversized shirt you had been wearing as pajamas was rumpled and covered in tear stains.
“Can I come in?” he asked, and you suddenly noticed just how out of breath he was- as if he has run a marathon before he stopped at your apartment. His chest was heaving under the silk button-down shirt he wore, his normal suit jacket tucked under one arm and his hair sticking out at all angles. Your fingers twitched. You wanted to touch it.
Instinctively, you stepped to the side, allowing what could arguably be the source of all your problems to enter your home without any fuss. You played with your hands, self-conscious as Scar took in your living space for the first time.
Your apartment was small, with plain cream walls and slightly ratty carpeting. You had tried your best to brighten up the space with colorful window curtains and a few pieces of art you had gotten on sale, but it was hard to look past the cracking in the plaster ceiling, or the way floorboards creaked with every step.
“What are you doing here?” you blurted, unable to stew in silence as he inspected the room any longer. Scar jumped, unprepared for the sudden disturbance of his thoughts, but shook the surprise off in record time. He spun on his heel, crossing the space between you and gently grasping your upper arms. Your breath hitched as his face drew inches from your own, the brunette’s eyes burning into your own.
“I was worried,” he murmured, voice cracking slightly. “They told me you were sick, and you weren’t answering your phone when I texted or called, and-” he cut himself off, turning his face away with a sharp exhale.
Your gaze wandered to where your phone was splayed across the couch, and you winced. You had been too distraught to consider charging it, and it was clear that it had died right before Scar tried to contact you.
Scar looked back up at you, something so vulnerable in his eyes that it threatened to make your throat close up. “I asked around and they told me you were crying, and when I look at you I can see that it’s true. What happened, sweetheart? Who hurt you?”
He was so genuine, so sweet in tone and touch, that it shattered what little self-control you had regained.
“Why do you care, Scar?” you cried, wrenching your arms out of his grip as fresh tears dripped down your face. The billionaire’s face went slack, shock spreading across his features as you curled into yourself. “Why do you care? I’m your assistant, for Mojang’s sake! You don’t have to worry about me- I’m just another person on your payroll.”
Scar’s face crumpled. “I care,” he said, stepping forwards to cup your face in his hands. “Because I am in love with you.”
You stopped breathing.
“What?”
“I am in love with you,” Scar repeated, thumb swiping at your cheek in a gentle motion. “Prime- I think I always have been. When I first saw you, I could hardly take my eyes off of you. I knew that you would be someone I would want to cherish for the rest of my life.”
You screwed your eyes shut, allowing yourself to be tucked into his arms. Squeezing your arms shut, you finally allowed yourself to admit what had been tearing you up inside all along: “You asked me who hurt me. It was you.”
The arms encircling you tightened, the man holding you releasing a laugh that sounded suspiciously like a sob as he buried his face into the crook of your neck. “Is that what-? I- oh gods. I’m so sorry, love. I never meant- I didn’t want-”
You tightened the grip you had on his shirt, effectively shutting Scar up as you pulled him as close as you could possibly get. “It’s okay now. You’re here, and that’s all that really matters.”
You could figure everything- the forced distance, your tangled feelings, your guilt- out later. For now, you were content to hold one another as you finally released every single emotion you had bottled up over the months you had broken your hearts over one another.
You would be okay, because, in a world where money rules all, you gave your hearts away free of charge.
SYNOPSIS: (Modern AU) You’re an up-and-coming designer, he’s a billionaire playboy with a taste for expensive clothing. Could I make it any more obvious?
WARNINGS: Fluff and angst (with a happy ending), self-doubt, very mild language
A/N: You can have a little capitalism, as a treat. I may have, perhaps, gone a little overboard with this fic. Also, fun fact- I listened to Money by That Poppy and Malibu 1992 by COIN on loop while writing this. The vibes? Immaculate.
You considered money a... funny thing. The wealthy seemed to only get wealthier, while the poor, poorer.
To you, It was a virus, wrapping thick green roots all over people’s lives and digging in until there was nothing else left for it to take. Once a person had gotten a taste of wealth, of abundance, it was impossible for them to go back. Impossible for them to stop themselves from digging deeper and deeper into a pit of debt and desperation as they chased that ‘big break’, that pipe dream of having everything they could ever possibly want.
You had watched your parents be destroyed by it, sacrificing their dreams to take care of you. You had watched them give up so many things for you, working from sunup to sundown to scrape together enough finances to get you through school and into a prestigious design college.
You loved them all the more for doing so, you really did, but because of it, you found yourself slightly resentful of the people born into luxury. The people who didn’t have to choose between good housing or a good education. Of course, you couldn’t blame them for existing, exactly, but the constant interaction you had with them certainly didn’t help.
As one of the highest-marking graduates from your college, you were immediately hired by Gorgeous Inc., a custom clothing company whose services were among the best in the business. Their clientele list was a constantly rotating roster of celebrities, millionaires, and influencers that had all collectively decided to throw their money at an outfit they would wear only once.
The first few months on the job had been hell if you were being honest. You had started out as an assistant to one of the top clothiers, shuttling fitting supplies to and from appointments and trying not to piss off any of the customers too much.
Despite your best efforts, even when you weren’t the one saddled with the undivided attention of whatever trophy wife had booked a session that day, you still had to deal with plenty of tantrums. It seemed like none of these people had ever been taught how to behave when things didn’t go their way, even going so far as to smash the beautiful (and expensive) champagne glasses the company had custom-made on the ground in a fit of rage. So, yeah, your opinion had some real-world experience to back it up- especially when you considered that that wasn’t even the worst you had seen.
Eventually, you managed to work your way up the company hierarchy. You had never cared much for office politics and hadn’t done nearly as much kissing up to your bosses as some of your colleagues, but when clients started to become more and more interested in your work specifically- well, it was in Gorgeous Inc.’s best interest to promote you.
Of course, with your promotion to managing long-term customers, it was inevitable that you would run into him. Scar Goodtimes, the CEO of ConCorp Enterprises.
Known for his love of couture clothing, and his even greater love for his cat Jellie, Scar was one of the most prominent figures in the upper circle- part of a highly exclusive group of the egregiously rich known as ‘the Hermits’. (Everyone wanted to be a member, nobody could afford it)
With fame comes plenty of gossip. You’d heard plenty of things about him in passing, but the thing that stuck out the most in your head was his status as the upper echelon’s ‘most eligible bachelor’. Despite his great fortune, the man had never married- stringing his starry-eyed admirers along with as much effort as batting an eye.
You weren’t about to lie and say you weren’t slightly apprehensive when his secretary had reached out to schedule an appointment with you. After all, if the people you had to deal with so far were merely ants compared to him, you could only assume that his behavior would be much worse.
With every scrap of professionalism you had left in your body, you made the promise to yourself that you would give him nothing- no reason to possibly blow up on you. You were going to be the best Prime-damned consultant he had ever met.
Naturally, your whole plan fell apart as soon as you set foot into the room you had booked for your first meeting. As with all of Gorgeous Inc.’s fitting rooms, the decoration was opulent, yet tasteful. Your shoes sank into the plush carpet as you approached the sitting area near the center of the space, several soft-looking armchairs arranged in a staggered circle around a mahogany table.
You were early, as you always were, taking the extra time to set up for Scar’s- Mojang above, you still couldn’t quite believe you were fitting him- appointment. With an ease that only came from months of practice, you laid out the binder filled with fabric swatches and clothing designs that you never seemed to part with. The object was barely even able to close with how many ideas you had managed to stuff in it, and it was a miracle that it hadn’t exploded and sent paper flying everywhere already.
You jolted when the door opened, recovering almost immediately and turning with a polite smile towards the person who sauntered in. Your customer-service façade faltered as your eyes met his, every thought fleeing from your head as your breath hitched in your throat.
Oh no, he’s hot.
You had always been skeptical of how much the billionaire’s looks had been played up, but meeting him face-to-face wiped any and all doubt from your mind. His eyes, a stunning shade of green that reminded you of emeralds or lush rainforest foliage, glittered with an almost curious gleam as they pinned you in place. With inhumanly soft-looking hair and the barest hint of stubble brushed along his jaw, he radiated a confidence that sucked the air out of the room.
What parts of your brain were still functioning had the good grace to remember to shake his hand as he offered it to you, desperately scrambling to regain your composure. You were somewhat successful, gaining enough conscientiousness to introduce yourself with a pleasant incline of your chin.
“I’ll be excited to see what wardrobe we can come up for you,” you said, keeping your tone even and polite to disguise any residual panic that might slip in. You had to physically stop yourself from tensing as he chuckled, breaking eye contact with you for the first time since he entered to glance around the room.
“Let’s get started then, shall we?”
It was easier to ignore Scar’s… intense… presence when you were able to slip into the grove of your work, your smile becoming more and more genuine as you went through the design process. You were pleasantly surprised by just how knowledgeable the brunette was when it came to fabrics and composition, able to release some of the tension in your body when you realized that you wouldn’t have to talk him down from any impossible requests.
Of course, all of that stress came piling back on your shoulders the minute you had to take his measurements. You had never really thought about just how much you had to touch people in your line of work, but now you were painfully aware of every centimeter of your body that touched his, warmth leeching through the layers of his suit into the air between you.
Your hands were steady as they wound the tape measure around Scar’s torso, but internally you were freaking out. Every time you had to lean into his personal space, you were praying that he couldn’t feel how hard your heart was beating from the proximity.
It certainly didn’t help that his eyes seemed to be boring holes into your back as you moved around, tracking you as a predator would prey. It was so disquieting, in fact, that you tripped on the coffee table and went tumbling into his chest. Scar’s hands flew to your waist, steadying you as you regained your balance. You took a moment to process what had just happened, your mind blue-screening, oblivious to the way the billionaire’s hands curled into the material of your shirt.
“I am so sorry, sir,” you rushed out, stepping out of his hold and smoothing over the black turtleneck you wore as part of your uniform. He let go slowly, almost reluctantly, a strange expression flashing across his face before it smoothed back into neutrality. “It was an accident- I didn’t mean to crash into you like that.”
Scar waved you off, a dangerous gleam in his eyes that only added to the embarrassed flush that was working its way onto your face. “It’s fine, really. We all make mistakes.”
You finished what was left of the session in a rush, the feeling of eyes on you only adding to your haste to get out the door. You were certain that you would be fired as his consultant, what with all the mistakes you had made, but after a full day of nerve-wracking radio silence, you finally received a message:
‘When can you schedule another meeting?’
So, from then onwards you were subjected to a series of events that made you question your own reality. You were hired on as Scar’s permanent liaison to the company, working with him on any and all of the clothing pieces he commissioned and seeing them through every step of production. It was quite the step up for you- under normal circumstances, it would take people in your position several more years to directly work under someone as influential as the CEO.
Meetings with Scar were surprisingly… pleasant, almost. The man was infinitely patient where others were not, and knowledgeable about your line of work, so the weirdness of his behavior wasn’t necessarily in regards to that. No, it was completely different from anything you had experienced before.
Scar was polite, far more polite than any other person of his status you had ever met. He insisted on opening the door for you wherever you went, waving your protests that it was supposed to be your job to do that for him off with a wink and a grin. On more than one occasion he arranged for food to be brought in for the both of you while you did your work, warmth spreading through your body whenever your hands accidentally brushed while looking through papers.
The man also happened to have very little concept of ‘appropriate spending’. As you had learned through articles and your own time with him, Scar had inherited Concorp from his uncle, and had enjoyed money and power throughout his entire life. Things that seemed egregiously expensive to you, he would buy without a second thought.
One day, without any prompting or warning, he presented you with a pair of brand new fabric shears because ‘it looked like the old ones were getting a little dull’. They were quite obviously hand-crafted, with glossy silver blades and a handle carved with a design like clouds.
“S-sir!” you squeaked, your feet rooted to the floor. You were unable to get your body to do something, anything, other to stare slack-jawed at the gift in the brunette’s hands with a mixture of trepidation and awe. “I can’t possibly accept something like that!”
Scar chuckled, a fond smile dimpling his cheeks as he shoved the box into your awaiting hands. “You’re too sweet, sugar. I’ve already bought ‘em, and it would be a real waste if you didn’t use them. What would I do with something like these?”
He waved his arms around emphatically, earning a small giggle from you. “I would have no clue what to do with them at all! It’s better for both of us, really.”
You sighed in defeat, pointedly ignoring the triumphant expression on the billionaire’s face as you tucked the box carefully beside your other supplies. “I guess you’re right, sir. Thank you.”
“Hey- haven’t I told you a million times before to just call me by my name? ‘Sir’ makes me sound... old.”
“Sure it does, sir.”
“Hey!”
You found yourself looking forwards to your meetings with the man, your professional smile slowly turning more real as he cracked joke after joke. It was hard for you to justify the excitement you felt as the appointments drew ever nearer as enthusiasm for a new project, sometimes even cutting short previous appointments to spend just a few more minutes in his enthralling presence.
The man was like a star, effortlessly pulling you and so many others into his orbit with every smile, every little moment that he looked at you like you were somebody worth listening to. It was so, stupid. So, so stupid of you to allow yourself to drop that shield of professionalism that had protected you time and time again. To let yourself befriend the man. To believe that he cared about you at all.
You had seen his type before. A rich man charming his way into someone’s life with lavish presents and pretty words, only to discard them like a child would a toy. A rich man blowing into your life in a whirlwind of laughter and light touches, only to storm out just as quickly. A heartbreak waiting to happen.
Despite how much it hurt, many nights spent biting back tears all over him, it was best for you to take a step back. Distance yourself a little. Rebuild the heavy brick walls around yourself that he had managed to charm his way past, and keep him out for good this time.
Bit by bit, you started to pull away from him. Your meetings which were once filled with amicable and easy-flowing conversation had shifted in tone dramatically. Your replies to anything he said or asked were polite, yes, but clipped, nipping any possible small talk in the bud. You fully resigned yourself to the role of ‘distant but helpful assistant’, shoving the parts of you that had laughed at his jokes into the deepest recesses of your mind.
You weren’t here to play, anymore- not when you had wasted so much time pining over a man who could never love you like you wanted him to.
It was clear that Scar noticed the absence of your comforting presence by his side, a hollow space where you once stood. You caught the glances he sent your way when you weren’t looking, an expression that looked suspiciously like hurt flickering through his eyes (although you knew better than to believe that he could possibly be worried about you).
It shouldn’t have been as big a surprise as it was when the presents started rolling in in earnest.
It seemed like every other day a new package or trinket was innocently sitting on your desk whenever you arrived at work, always accompanied with a small note from the billionaire who (most likely) had no idea about the butterflies that spawned in your stomach just from seeing him, hearing his voice. You had saved every single one, ignoring the pang in your heart whenever you caught a glimpse of his chicken-scratch handwriting out of the corner of your eye.
“Hey.”
You jolted in your seat, a nauseating mix of butterflies and dread stirring in your stomach. That voice- a light timbre that you equally adored and feared- could only belong to one person, the last person you wanted to see right now. You twisted around to see Scar leaning against the doorway, hands tucked into the pockets of a pair of maroon corduroy pants that you had designed. “Um, hi?”
He shot you a grin (your heart skipping a beat), tilting his head to the side in a dog-like, but still so distinctly Scar, manner before stepping into your office. He rounded your desk, planting his arms against the smooth wood and staring down at you with an unreadable look in his eyes- fern green seeming to see straight into your soul. You hesitantly folded your hands in your lap, praying to Prime above that he couldn’t see the tremor in them, and arranged your features into the most neutral look you could. “Can I... help you?”
He blinked as if snapping out of some sort of trance, and shook his head to reorder his thoughts. “Yes, actually. Did you- did you like the glasses I sent you?”
Oh, the glasses. You had mentioned off-handedly one day that you were having problems with the sun getting in your eyes when you were driving, an annual issue that came with Daylight Savings. You should have known by now not to give the man any ideas, because barely twenty-four hours later and a brand new pair of Iskallium Premier sunglasses was waiting for you on your desk. Iskallium Premier, as in the number one couture glasses brand in Java.
You bit your lip, only just missing how Scar’s eyes flickered down to your mouth, and repressed the urge to slam your head against your office furniture.
“Yes, actually. I, uh, I appreciate the gesture, but…” you sighed, bringing a hand up to pinch the bridge of your nose. You did not want to do this confrontation. “I can’t take this.”
“Nonsense,” Scar said, mercifully leaning out of your space. “I ordered it directly from Iskall himself, just for you.”
Prime above, sometimes you forgot this man was just as, if not more, stubborn than you when he wanted to be. Unfortunately for him, this was not an argument he was going to win.
“No, sir- I genuinely cannot accept this. I know you mean the best, but you should just give these to one of your other employees. Not me.”
For the first time since you’d met him, Scar looked genuinely lost, brow furrowed and lips parted in surprise as he stared, wide-eyed, down at you. Despite your inner turmoil, your face was a mask of ice and marble as you met his gaze. You were not budging.
Scar shut his jaw with an audible ‘click’ after a moment of tense silence, still not breaking eye contact with you as he took a step back from the desk, furthering the distance between the both of you.
“Are you sure?” he said, searching your expression for any hesitation, but coming up empty. You fisted your hands, straightening your spine as much as you could to meet him head-on.
“Of course, sir.”
He exhaled slowly, face closing in a way that felt almost disappointed as he pulled away. Saying his goodbyes, the brunette took one more look over his shoulder before sweeping out of the room.
You locked your office the minute the sound of his footsteps faded away, curling up into a ball against the door and sobbing. You felt like glass, splintering into a million tiny fragments that could never be repaired. You felt like you were drowning, unable to breathe under the weight of your own emotions.
You had pushed Scar away to keep yourself from getting hurt, but every day you were with him but not with him, you were bleeding out from where you carved your heart out and handed it to him.
You called in sick after you managed to drag yourself home, clutching your phone in shaky fingers from where you were huddled under your blankets. You could only hope you had hidden the sound of your sniffles well enough- Mojang knows how fast gossip spreads through the corporate chain. At least you wouldn’t have to contact Scar (you refused to acknowledge how you almost started to cry just thinking about him)- your boss would do that for you.
The next few hours were spent wallowing in your own despair, eating straight from the ice cream carton, and watching whatever cheap rom-com movies you could find on television. Oh, if only your parents could see their pride and joy now- reduced to a teary, sensitive mess, all because you fell in love with a man who had never known a second of your struggles.
You fell asleep to the quiet murmur of the TV speakers, surrounded by tissues and an empty box of chocolates you had bought for yourself after valentine’s day.
The second day wasn’t any better than the first. You barely managed to force yourself into the shower before you collapsed back into bed, staring up at the ceiling. Now that you had no more tears left to cry, you were just… numb. Your chest ached, a hollowness that threatened to consume you radiating through your body.
You could only blink as knocking rang through your apartment, lazily flopping the arm you had thrown over your eyes to the side to stare blankly at the door. You were roused from your lethargy when whoever outside knocked again, this time with so much force they were practically banging on the cheap wood.
Calling out for them to ‘Give you a second’, you shuffled over and swung open the door to come face-to-face with sharp green eyes, soft brown hair, and a face lined with worry.
Oh.
Oh no.
“S-Sir?” you said, suddenly very conscious of just how much of a mess you were. Your eyes were bloodshot and rimmed with red, a clear sign that you had been crying, and the oversized shirt you had been wearing as pajamas was rumpled and covered in tear stains.
“Can I come in?” he asked, and you suddenly noticed just how out of breath he was- as if he has run a marathon before he stopped at your apartment. His chest was heaving under the silk button-down shirt he wore, his normal suit jacket tucked under one arm and his hair sticking out at all angles. Your fingers twitched. You wanted to touch it.
Instinctively, you stepped to the side, allowing what could arguably be the source of all your problems to enter your home without any fuss. You played with your hands, self-conscious as Scar took in your living space for the first time.
Your apartment was small, with plain cream walls and slightly ratty carpeting. You had tried your best to brighten up the space with colorful window curtains and a few pieces of art you had gotten on sale, but it was hard to look past the cracking in the plaster ceiling, or the way floorboards creaked with every step.
“What are you doing here?” you blurted, unable to stew in silence as he inspected the room any longer. Scar jumped, unprepared for the sudden disturbance of his thoughts, but shook the surprise off in record time. He spun on his heel, crossing the space between you and gently grasping your upper arms. Your breath hitched as his face drew inches from your own, the brunette’s eyes burning into your own.
“I was worried,” he murmured, voice cracking slightly. “They told me you were sick, and you weren’t answering your phone when I texted or called, and-” he cut himself off, turning his face away with a sharp exhale.
Your gaze wandered to where your phone was splayed across the couch, and you winced. You had been too distraught to consider charging it, and it was clear that it had died right before Scar tried to contact you.
Scar looked back up at you, something so vulnerable in his eyes that it threatened to make your throat close up. “I asked around and they told me you were crying, and when I look at you I can see that it’s true. What happened, sweetheart? Who hurt you?”
He was so genuine, so sweet in tone and touch, that it shattered what little self-control you had regained.
“Why do you care, Scar?” you cried, wrenching your arms out of his grip as fresh tears dripped down your face. The billionaire’s face went slack, shock spreading across his features as you curled into yourself. “Why do you care? I’m your assistant, for Mojang’s sake! You don’t have to worry about me- I’m just another person on your payroll.”
Scar’s face crumpled. “I care,” he said, stepping forwards to cup your face in his hands. “Because I am in love with you.”
You stopped breathing.
“What?”
“I am in love with you,” Scar repeated, thumb swiping at your cheek in a gentle motion. “Prime- I think I always have been. When I first saw you, I could hardly take my eyes off of you. I knew that you would be someone I would want to cherish for the rest of my life.”
You screwed your eyes shut, allowing yourself to be tucked into his arms. Squeezing your arms shut, you finally allowed yourself to admit what had been tearing you up inside all along: “You asked me who hurt me. It was you.”
The arms encircling you tightened, the man holding you releasing a laugh that sounded suspiciously like a sob as he buried his face into the crook of your neck. “Is that what-? I- oh gods. I’m so sorry, love. I never meant- I didn’t want-”
You tightened the grip you had on his shirt, effectively shutting Scar up as you pulled him as close as you could possibly get. “It’s okay now. You’re here, and that’s all that really matters.”
You could figure everything- the forced distance, your tangled feelings, your guilt- out later. For now, you were content to hold one another as you finally released every single emotion you had bottled up over the months you had broken your hearts over one another.
You would be okay, because, in a world where money rules all, you gave your hearts away free of charge.
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SYNOPSIS: (Modern AU) You’re an up-and-coming designer, he’s a billionaire playboy with a taste for expensive clothing. Could I make it any more obvious?
WARNINGS: Fluff and angst (with a happy ending), self-doubt, very mild language
A/N: You can have a little capitalism, as a treat. I may have, perhaps, gone a little overboard with this fic. Also, fun fact- I listened to Money by That Poppy and Malibu 1992 by COIN on loop while writing this. The vibes? Immaculate.
You considered money a... funny thing. The wealthy seemed to only get wealthier, while the poor, poorer.
To you, It was a virus, wrapping thick green roots all over people’s lives and digging in until there was nothing else left for it to take. Once a person had gotten a taste of wealth, of abundance, it was impossible for them to go back. Impossible for them to stop themselves from digging deeper and deeper into a pit of debt and desperation as they chased that ‘big break’, that pipe dream of having everything they could ever possibly want.
You had watched your parents be destroyed by it, sacrificing their dreams to take care of you. You had watched them give up so many things for you, working from sunup to sundown to scrape together enough finances to get you through school and into a prestigious design college.
You loved them all the more for doing so, you really did, but because of it, you found yourself slightly resentful of the people born into luxury. The people who didn’t have to choose between good housing or a good education. Of course, you couldn’t blame them for existing, exactly, but the constant interaction you had with them certainly didn’t help.
As one of the highest-marking graduates from your college, you were immediately hired by Gorgeous Inc., a custom clothing company whose services were among the best in the business. Their clientele list was a constantly rotating roster of celebrities, millionaires, and influencers that had all collectively decided to throw their money at an outfit they would wear only once.
The first few months on the job had been hell if you were being honest. You had started out as an assistant to one of the top clothiers, shuttling fitting supplies to and from appointments and trying not to piss off any of the customers too much.
Despite your best efforts, even when you weren’t the one saddled with the undivided attention of whatever trophy wife had booked a session that day, you still had to deal with plenty of tantrums. It seemed like none of these people had ever been taught how to behave when things didn’t go their way, even going so far as to smash the beautiful (and expensive) champagne glasses the company had custom-made on the ground in a fit of rage. So, yeah, your opinion had some real-world experience to back it up- especially when you considered that that wasn’t even the worst you had seen.
Eventually, you managed to work your way up the company hierarchy. You had never cared much for office politics and hadn’t done nearly as much kissing up to your bosses as some of your colleagues, but when clients started to become more and more interested in your work specifically- well, it was in Gorgeous Inc.’s best interest to promote you.
Of course, with your promotion to managing long-term customers, it was inevitable that you would run into him. Scar Goodtimes, the CEO of ConCorp Enterprises.
Known for his love of couture clothing, and his even greater love for his cat Jellie, Scar was one of the most prominent figures in the upper circle- part of a highly exclusive group of the egregiously rich known as ‘the Hermits’. (Everyone wanted to be a member, nobody could afford it)
With fame comes plenty of gossip. You’d heard plenty of things about him in passing, but the thing that stuck out the most in your head was his status as the upper echelon’s ‘most eligible bachelor’. Despite his great fortune, the man had never married- stringing his starry-eyed admirers along with as much effort as batting an eye.
You weren’t about to lie and say you weren’t slightly apprehensive when his secretary had reached out to schedule an appointment with you. After all, if the people you had to deal with so far were merely ants compared to him, you could only assume that his behavior would be much worse.
With every scrap of professionalism you had left in your body, you made the promise to yourself that you would give him nothing- no reason to possibly blow up on you. You were going to be the best Prime-damned consultant he had ever met.
Naturally, your whole plan fell apart as soon as you set foot into the room you had booked for your first meeting. As with all of Gorgeous Inc.’s fitting rooms, the decoration was opulent, yet tasteful. Your shoes sank into the plush carpet as you approached the sitting area near the center of the space, several soft-looking armchairs arranged in a staggered circle around a mahogany table.
You were early, as you always were, taking the extra time to set up for Scar’s- Mojang above, you still couldn’t quite believe you were fitting him- appointment. With an ease that only came from months of practice, you laid out the binder filled with fabric swatches and clothing designs that you never seemed to part with. The object was barely even able to close with how many ideas you had managed to stuff in it, and it was a miracle that it hadn’t exploded and sent paper flying everywhere already.
You jolted when the door opened, recovering almost immediately and turning with a polite smile towards the person who sauntered in. Your customer-service façade faltered as your eyes met his, every thought fleeing from your head as your breath hitched in your throat.
Oh no, he’s hot.
You had always been skeptical of how much the billionaire’s looks had been played up, but meeting him face-to-face wiped any and all doubt from your mind. His eyes, a stunning shade of green that reminded you of emeralds or lush rainforest foliage, glittered with an almost curious gleam as they pinned you in place. With inhumanly soft-looking hair and the barest hint of stubble brushed along his jaw, he radiated a confidence that sucked the air out of the room.
What parts of your brain were still functioning had the good grace to remember to shake his hand as he offered it to you, desperately scrambling to regain your composure. You were somewhat successful, gaining enough conscientiousness to introduce yourself with a pleasant incline of your chin.
“I’ll be excited to see what wardrobe we can come up for you,” you said, keeping your tone even and polite to disguise any residual panic that might slip in. You had to physically stop yourself from tensing as he chuckled, breaking eye contact with you for the first time since he entered to glance around the room.
“Let’s get started then, shall we?”
It was easier to ignore Scar’s… intense… presence when you were able to slip into the grove of your work, your smile becoming more and more genuine as you went through the design process. You were pleasantly surprised by just how knowledgeable the brunette was when it came to fabrics and composition, able to release some of the tension in your body when you realized that you wouldn’t have to talk him down from any impossible requests.
Of course, all of that stress came piling back on your shoulders the minute you had to take his measurements. You had never really thought about just how much you had to touch people in your line of work, but now you were painfully aware of every centimeter of your body that touched his, warmth leeching through the layers of his suit into the air between you.
Your hands were steady as they wound the tape measure around Scar’s torso, but internally you were freaking out. Every time you had to lean into his personal space, you were praying that he couldn’t feel how hard your heart was beating from the proximity.
It certainly didn’t help that his eyes seemed to be boring holes into your back as you moved around, tracking you as a predator would prey. It was so disquieting, in fact, that you tripped on the coffee table and went tumbling into his chest. Scar’s hands flew to your waist, steadying you as you regained your balance. You took a moment to process what had just happened, your mind blue-screening, oblivious to the way the billionaire’s hands curled into the material of your shirt.
“I am so sorry, sir,” you rushed out, stepping out of his hold and smoothing over the black turtleneck you wore as part of your uniform. He let go slowly, almost reluctantly, a strange expression flashing across his face before it smoothed back into neutrality. “It was an accident- I didn’t mean to crash into you like that.”
Scar waved you off, a dangerous gleam in his eyes that only added to the embarrassed flush that was working its way onto your face. “It’s fine, really. We all make mistakes.”
You finished what was left of the session in a rush, the feeling of eyes on you only adding to your haste to get out the door. You were certain that you would be fired as his consultant, what with all the mistakes you had made, but after a full day of nerve-wracking radio silence, you finally received a message:
‘When can you schedule another meeting?’
So, from then onwards you were subjected to a series of events that made you question your own reality. You were hired on as Scar’s permanent liaison to the company, working with him on any and all of the clothing pieces he commissioned and seeing them through every step of production. It was quite the step up for you- under normal circumstances, it would take people in your position several more years to directly work under someone as influential as the CEO.
Meetings with Scar were surprisingly… pleasant, almost. The man was infinitely patient where others were not, and knowledgeable about your line of work, so the weirdness of his behavior wasn’t necessarily in regards to that. No, it was completely different from anything you had experienced before.
Scar was polite, far more polite than any other person of his status you had ever met. He insisted on opening the door for you wherever you went, waving your protests that it was supposed to be your job to do that for him off with a wink and a grin. On more than one occasion he arranged for food to be brought in for the both of you while you did your work, warmth spreading through your body whenever your hands accidentally brushed while looking through papers.
The man also happened to have very little concept of ‘appropriate spending’. As you had learned through articles and your own time with him, Scar had inherited Concorp from his uncle, and had enjoyed money and power throughout his entire life. Things that seemed egregiously expensive to you, he would buy without a second thought.
One day, without any prompting or warning, he presented you with a pair of brand new fabric shears because ‘it looked like the old ones were getting a little dull’. They were quite obviously hand-crafted, with glossy silver blades and a handle carved with a design like clouds.
“S-sir!” you squeaked, your feet rooted to the floor. You were unable to get your body to do something, anything, other to stare slack-jawed at the gift in the brunette’s hands with a mixture of trepidation and awe. “I can’t possibly accept something like that!”
Scar chuckled, a fond smile dimpling his cheeks as he shoved the box into your awaiting hands. “You’re too sweet, sugar. I’ve already bought ‘em, and it would be a real waste if you didn’t use them. What would I do with something like these?”
He waved his arms around emphatically, earning a small giggle from you. “I would have no clue what to do with them at all! It’s better for both of us, really.”
You sighed in defeat, pointedly ignoring the triumphant expression on the billionaire’s face as you tucked the box carefully beside your other supplies. “I guess you’re right, sir. Thank you.”
“Hey- haven’t I told you a million times before to just call me by my name? ‘Sir’ makes me sound... old.”
“Sure it does, sir.”
“Hey!”
You found yourself looking forwards to your meetings with the man, your professional smile slowly turning more real as he cracked joke after joke. It was hard for you to justify the excitement you felt as the appointments drew ever nearer as enthusiasm for a new project, sometimes even cutting short previous appointments to spend just a few more minutes in his enthralling presence.
The man was like a star, effortlessly pulling you and so many others into his orbit with every smile, every little moment that he looked at you like you were somebody worth listening to. It was so, stupid. So, so stupid of you to allow yourself to drop that shield of professionalism that had protected you time and time again. To let yourself befriend the man. To believe that he cared about you at all.
You had seen his type before. A rich man charming his way into someone’s life with lavish presents and pretty words, only to discard them like a child would a toy. A rich man blowing into your life in a whirlwind of laughter and light touches, only to storm out just as quickly. A heartbreak waiting to happen.
Despite how much it hurt, many nights spent biting back tears all over him, it was best for you to take a step back. Distance yourself a little. Rebuild the heavy brick walls around yourself that he had managed to charm his way past, and keep him out for good this time.
Bit by bit, you started to pull away from him. Your meetings which were once filled with amicable and easy-flowing conversation had shifted in tone dramatically. Your replies to anything he said or asked were polite, yes, but clipped, nipping any possible small talk in the bud. You fully resigned yourself to the role of ‘distant but helpful assistant’, shoving the parts of you that had laughed at his jokes into the deepest recesses of your mind.
You weren’t here to play, anymore- not when you had wasted so much time pining over a man who could never love you like you wanted him to.
It was clear that Scar noticed the absence of your comforting presence by his side, a hollow space where you once stood. You caught the glances he sent your way when you weren’t looking, an expression that looked suspiciously like hurt flickering through his eyes (although you knew better than to believe that he could possibly be worried about you).
It shouldn’t have been as big a surprise as it was when the presents started rolling in in earnest.
It seemed like every other day a new package or trinket was innocently sitting on your desk whenever you arrived at work, always accompanied with a small note from the billionaire who (most likely) had no idea about the butterflies that spawned in your stomach just from seeing him, hearing his voice. You had saved every single one, ignoring the pang in your heart whenever you caught a glimpse of his chicken-scratch handwriting out of the corner of your eye.
“Hey.”
You jolted in your seat, a nauseating mix of butterflies and dread stirring in your stomach. That voice- a light timbre that you equally adored and feared- could only belong to one person, the last person you wanted to see right now. You twisted around to see Scar leaning against the doorway, hands tucked into the pockets of a pair of maroon corduroy pants that you had designed. “Um, hi?”
He shot you a grin (your heart skipping a beat), tilting his head to the side in a dog-like, but still so distinctly Scar, manner before stepping into your office. He rounded your desk, planting his arms against the smooth wood and staring down at you with an unreadable look in his eyes- fern green seeming to see straight into your soul. You hesitantly folded your hands in your lap, praying to Prime above that he couldn’t see the tremor in them, and arranged your features into the most neutral look you could. “Can I... help you?”
He blinked as if snapping out of some sort of trance, and shook his head to reorder his thoughts. “Yes, actually. Did you- did you like the glasses I sent you?”
Oh, the glasses. You had mentioned off-handedly one day that you were having problems with the sun getting in your eyes when you were driving, an annual issue that came with Daylight Savings. You should have known by now not to give the man any ideas, because barely twenty-four hours later and a brand new pair of Iskallium Premier sunglasses was waiting for you on your desk. Iskallium Premier, as in the number one couture glasses brand in Java.
You bit your lip, only just missing how Scar’s eyes flickered down to your mouth, and repressed the urge to slam your head against your office furniture.
“Yes, actually. I, uh, I appreciate the gesture, but…” you sighed, bringing a hand up to pinch the bridge of your nose. You did not want to do this confrontation. “I can’t take this.”
“Nonsense,” Scar said, mercifully leaning out of your space. “I ordered it directly from Iskall himself, just for you.”
Prime above, sometimes you forgot this man was just as, if not more, stubborn than you when he wanted to be. Unfortunately for him, this was not an argument he was going to win.
“No, sir- I genuinely cannot accept this. I know you mean the best, but you should just give these to one of your other employees. Not me.”
For the first time since you’d met him, Scar looked genuinely lost, brow furrowed and lips parted in surprise as he stared, wide-eyed, down at you. Despite your inner turmoil, your face was a mask of ice and marble as you met his gaze. You were not budging.
Scar shut his jaw with an audible ‘click’ after a moment of tense silence, still not breaking eye contact with you as he took a step back from the desk, furthering the distance between the both of you.
“Are you sure?” he said, searching your expression for any hesitation, but coming up empty. You fisted your hands, straightening your spine as much as you could to meet him head-on.
“Of course, sir.”
He exhaled slowly, face closing in a way that felt almost disappointed as he pulled away. Saying his goodbyes, the brunette took one more look over his shoulder before sweeping out of the room.
You locked your office the minute the sound of his footsteps faded away, curling up into a ball against the door and sobbing. You felt like glass, splintering into a million tiny fragments that could never be repaired. You felt like you were drowning, unable to breathe under the weight of your own emotions.
You had pushed Scar away to keep yourself from getting hurt, but every day you were with him but not with him, you were bleeding out from where you carved your heart out and handed it to him.
You called in sick after you managed to drag yourself home, clutching your phone in shaky fingers from where you were huddled under your blankets. You could only hope you had hidden the sound of your sniffles well enough- Mojang knows how fast gossip spreads through the corporate chain. At least you wouldn’t have to contact Scar (you refused to acknowledge how you almost started to cry just thinking about him)- your boss would do that for you.
The next few hours were spent wallowing in your own despair, eating straight from the ice cream carton, and watching whatever cheap rom-com movies you could find on television. Oh, if only your parents could see their pride and joy now- reduced to a teary, sensitive mess, all because you fell in love with a man who had never known a second of your struggles.
You fell asleep to the quiet murmur of the TV speakers, surrounded by tissues and an empty box of chocolates you had bought for yourself after valentine’s day.
The second day wasn’t any better than the first. You barely managed to force yourself into the shower before you collapsed back into bed, staring up at the ceiling. Now that you had no more tears left to cry, you were just… numb. Your chest ached, a hollowness that threatened to consume you radiating through your body.
You could only blink as knocking rang through your apartment, lazily flopping the arm you had thrown over your eyes to the side to stare blankly at the door. You were roused from your lethargy when whoever outside knocked again, this time with so much force they were practically banging on the cheap wood.
Calling out for them to ‘Give you a second’, you shuffled over and swung open the door to come face-to-face with sharp green eyes, soft brown hair, and a face lined with worry.
Oh.
Oh no.
“S-Sir?” you said, suddenly very conscious of just how much of a mess you were. Your eyes were bloodshot and rimmed with red, a clear sign that you had been crying, and the oversized shirt you had been wearing as pajamas was rumpled and covered in tear stains.
“Can I come in?” he asked, and you suddenly noticed just how out of breath he was- as if he has run a marathon before he stopped at your apartment. His chest was heaving under the silk button-down shirt he wore, his normal suit jacket tucked under one arm and his hair sticking out at all angles. Your fingers twitched. You wanted to touch it.
Instinctively, you stepped to the side, allowing what could arguably be the source of all your problems to enter your home without any fuss. You played with your hands, self-conscious as Scar took in your living space for the first time.
Your apartment was small, with plain cream walls and slightly ratty carpeting. You had tried your best to brighten up the space with colorful window curtains and a few pieces of art you had gotten on sale, but it was hard to look past the cracking in the plaster ceiling, or the way floorboards creaked with every step.
“What are you doing here?” you blurted, unable to stew in silence as he inspected the room any longer. Scar jumped, unprepared for the sudden disturbance of his thoughts, but shook the surprise off in record time. He spun on his heel, crossing the space between you and gently grasping your upper arms. Your breath hitched as his face drew inches from your own, the brunette’s eyes burning into your own.
“I was worried,” he murmured, voice cracking slightly. “They told me you were sick, and you weren’t answering your phone when I texted or called, and-” he cut himself off, turning his face away with a sharp exhale.
Your gaze wandered to where your phone was splayed across the couch, and you winced. You had been too distraught to consider charging it, and it was clear that it had died right before Scar tried to contact you.
Scar looked back up at you, something so vulnerable in his eyes that it threatened to make your throat close up. “I asked around and they told me you were crying, and when I look at you I can see that it’s true. What happened, sweetheart? Who hurt you?”
He was so genuine, so sweet in tone and touch, that it shattered what little self-control you had regained.
“Why do you care, Scar?” you cried, wrenching your arms out of his grip as fresh tears dripped down your face. The billionaire’s face went slack, shock spreading across his features as you curled into yourself. “Why do you care? I’m your assistant, for Mojang’s sake! You don’t have to worry about me- I’m just another person on your payroll.”
Scar’s face crumpled. “I care,” he said, stepping forwards to cup your face in his hands. “Because I am in love with you.”
You stopped breathing.
“What?”
“I am in love with you,” Scar repeated, thumb swiping at your cheek in a gentle motion. “Prime- I think I always have been. When I first saw you, I could hardly take my eyes off of you. I knew that you would be someone I would want to cherish for the rest of my life.”
You screwed your eyes shut, allowing yourself to be tucked into his arms. Squeezing your arms shut, you finally allowed yourself to admit what had been tearing you up inside all along: “You asked me who hurt me. It was you.”
The arms encircling you tightened, the man holding you releasing a laugh that sounded suspiciously like a sob as he buried his face into the crook of your neck. “Is that what-? I- oh gods. I’m so sorry, love. I never meant- I didn’t want-”
You tightened the grip you had on his shirt, effectively shutting Scar up as you pulled him as close as you could possibly get. “It’s okay now. You’re here, and that’s all that really matters.”
You could figure everything- the forced distance, your tangled feelings, your guilt- out later. For now, you were content to hold one another as you finally released every single emotion you had bottled up over the months you had broken your hearts over one another.
You would be okay, because, in a world where money rules all, you gave your hearts away free of charge.
SYNOPSIS: (Modern AU) You’re an up-and-coming designer, he’s a billionaire playboy with a taste for expensive clothing. Could I make it any more obvious?
WARNINGS: Fluff and angst (with a happy ending), self-doubt, very mild language
A/N: You can have a little capitalism, as a treat. I may have, perhaps, gone a little overboard with this fic. Also, fun fact- I listened to Money by That Poppy and Malibu 1992 by COIN on loop while writing this. The vibes? Immaculate.
You considered money a... funny thing. The wealthy seemed to only get wealthier, while the poor, poorer.
To you, It was a virus, wrapping thick green roots all over people’s lives and digging in until there was nothing else left for it to take. Once a person had gotten a taste of wealth, of abundance, it was impossible for them to go back. Impossible for them to stop themselves from digging deeper and deeper into a pit of debt and desperation as they chased that ‘big break’, that pipe dream of having everything they could ever possibly want.
You had watched your parents be destroyed by it, sacrificing their dreams to take care of you. You had watched them give up so many things for you, working from sunup to sundown to scrape together enough finances to get you through school and into a prestigious design college.
You loved them all the more for doing so, you really did, but because of it, you found yourself slightly resentful of the people born into luxury. The people who didn’t have to choose between good housing or a good education. Of course, you couldn’t blame them for existing, exactly, but the constant interaction you had with them certainly didn’t help.
As one of the highest-marking graduates from your college, you were immediately hired by Gorgeous Inc., a custom clothing company whose services were among the best in the business. Their clientele list was a constantly rotating roster of celebrities, millionaires, and influencers that had all collectively decided to throw their money at an outfit they would wear only once.
The first few months on the job had been hell if you were being honest. You had started out as an assistant to one of the top clothiers, shuttling fitting supplies to and from appointments and trying not to piss off any of the customers too much.
Despite your best efforts, even when you weren’t the one saddled with the undivided attention of whatever trophy wife had booked a session that day, you still had to deal with plenty of tantrums. It seemed like none of these people had ever been taught how to behave when things didn’t go their way, even going so far as to smash the beautiful (and expensive) champagne glasses the company had custom-made on the ground in a fit of rage. So, yeah, your opinion had some real-world experience to back it up- especially when you considered that that wasn’t even the worst you had seen.
Eventually, you managed to work your way up the company hierarchy. You had never cared much for office politics and hadn’t done nearly as much kissing up to your bosses as some of your colleagues, but when clients started to become more and more interested in your work specifically- well, it was in Gorgeous Inc.’s best interest to promote you.
Of course, with your promotion to managing long-term customers, it was inevitable that you would run into him. Scar Goodtimes, the CEO of ConCorp Enterprises.
Known for his love of couture clothing, and his even greater love for his cat Jellie, Scar was one of the most prominent figures in the upper circle- part of a highly exclusive group of the egregiously rich known as ‘the Hermits’. (Everyone wanted to be a member, nobody could afford it)
With fame comes plenty of gossip. You’d heard plenty of things about him in passing, but the thing that stuck out the most in your head was his status as the upper echelon’s ‘most eligible bachelor’. Despite his great fortune, the man had never married- stringing his starry-eyed admirers along with as much effort as batting an eye.
You weren’t about to lie and say you weren’t slightly apprehensive when his secretary had reached out to schedule an appointment with you. After all, if the people you had to deal with so far were merely ants compared to him, you could only assume that his behavior would be much worse.
With every scrap of professionalism you had left in your body, you made the promise to yourself that you would give him nothing- no reason to possibly blow up on you. You were going to be the best Prime-damned consultant he had ever met.
Naturally, your whole plan fell apart as soon as you set foot into the room you had booked for your first meeting. As with all of Gorgeous Inc.’s fitting rooms, the decoration was opulent, yet tasteful. Your shoes sank into the plush carpet as you approached the sitting area near the center of the space, several soft-looking armchairs arranged in a staggered circle around a mahogany table.
You were early, as you always were, taking the extra time to set up for Scar’s- Mojang above, you still couldn’t quite believe you were fitting him- appointment. With an ease that only came from months of practice, you laid out the binder filled with fabric swatches and clothing designs that you never seemed to part with. The object was barely even able to close with how many ideas you had managed to stuff in it, and it was a miracle that it hadn’t exploded and sent paper flying everywhere already.
You jolted when the door opened, recovering almost immediately and turning with a polite smile towards the person who sauntered in. Your customer-service façade faltered as your eyes met his, every thought fleeing from your head as your breath hitched in your throat.
Oh no, he’s hot.
You had always been skeptical of how much the billionaire’s looks had been played up, but meeting him face-to-face wiped any and all doubt from your mind. His eyes, a stunning shade of green that reminded you of emeralds or lush rainforest foliage, glittered with an almost curious gleam as they pinned you in place. With inhumanly soft-looking hair and the barest hint of stubble brushed along his jaw, he radiated a confidence that sucked the air out of the room.
What parts of your brain were still functioning had the good grace to remember to shake his hand as he offered it to you, desperately scrambling to regain your composure. You were somewhat successful, gaining enough conscientiousness to introduce yourself with a pleasant incline of your chin.
“I’ll be excited to see what wardrobe we can come up for you,” you said, keeping your tone even and polite to disguise any residual panic that might slip in. You had to physically stop yourself from tensing as he chuckled, breaking eye contact with you for the first time since he entered to glance around the room.
“Let’s get started then, shall we?”
It was easier to ignore Scar’s… intense… presence when you were able to slip into the grove of your work, your smile becoming more and more genuine as you went through the design process. You were pleasantly surprised by just how knowledgeable the brunette was when it came to fabrics and composition, able to release some of the tension in your body when you realized that you wouldn’t have to talk him down from any impossible requests.
Of course, all of that stress came piling back on your shoulders the minute you had to take his measurements. You had never really thought about just how much you had to touch people in your line of work, but now you were painfully aware of every centimeter of your body that touched his, warmth leeching through the layers of his suit into the air between you.
Your hands were steady as they wound the tape measure around Scar’s torso, but internally you were freaking out. Every time you had to lean into his personal space, you were praying that he couldn’t feel how hard your heart was beating from the proximity.
It certainly didn’t help that his eyes seemed to be boring holes into your back as you moved around, tracking you as a predator would prey. It was so disquieting, in fact, that you tripped on the coffee table and went tumbling into his chest. Scar’s hands flew to your waist, steadying you as you regained your balance. You took a moment to process what had just happened, your mind blue-screening, oblivious to the way the billionaire’s hands curled into the material of your shirt.
“I am so sorry, sir,” you rushed out, stepping out of his hold and smoothing over the black turtleneck you wore as part of your uniform. He let go slowly, almost reluctantly, a strange expression flashing across his face before it smoothed back into neutrality. “It was an accident- I didn’t mean to crash into you like that.”
Scar waved you off, a dangerous gleam in his eyes that only added to the embarrassed flush that was working its way onto your face. “It’s fine, really. We all make mistakes.”
You finished what was left of the session in a rush, the feeling of eyes on you only adding to your haste to get out the door. You were certain that you would be fired as his consultant, what with all the mistakes you had made, but after a full day of nerve-wracking radio silence, you finally received a message:
‘When can you schedule another meeting?’
So, from then onwards you were subjected to a series of events that made you question your own reality. You were hired on as Scar’s permanent liaison to the company, working with him on any and all of the clothing pieces he commissioned and seeing them through every step of production. It was quite the step up for you- under normal circumstances, it would take people in your position several more years to directly work under someone as influential as the CEO.
Meetings with Scar were surprisingly… pleasant, almost. The man was infinitely patient where others were not, and knowledgeable about your line of work, so the weirdness of his behavior wasn’t necessarily in regards to that. No, it was completely different from anything you had experienced before.
Scar was polite, far more polite than any other person of his status you had ever met. He insisted on opening the door for you wherever you went, waving your protests that it was supposed to be your job to do that for him off with a wink and a grin. On more than one occasion he arranged for food to be brought in for the both of you while you did your work, warmth spreading through your body whenever your hands accidentally brushed while looking through papers.
The man also happened to have very little concept of ‘appropriate spending’. As you had learned through articles and your own time with him, Scar had inherited Concorp from his uncle, and had enjoyed money and power throughout his entire life. Things that seemed egregiously expensive to you, he would buy without a second thought.
One day, without any prompting or warning, he presented you with a pair of brand new fabric shears because ‘it looked like the old ones were getting a little dull’. They were quite obviously hand-crafted, with glossy silver blades and a handle carved with a design like clouds.
“S-sir!” you squeaked, your feet rooted to the floor. You were unable to get your body to do something, anything, other to stare slack-jawed at the gift in the brunette’s hands with a mixture of trepidation and awe. “I can’t possibly accept something like that!”
Scar chuckled, a fond smile dimpling his cheeks as he shoved the box into your awaiting hands. “You’re too sweet, sugar. I’ve already bought ‘em, and it would be a real waste if you didn’t use them. What would I do with something like these?”
He waved his arms around emphatically, earning a small giggle from you. “I would have no clue what to do with them at all! It’s better for both of us, really.”
You sighed in defeat, pointedly ignoring the triumphant expression on the billionaire’s face as you tucked the box carefully beside your other supplies. “I guess you’re right, sir. Thank you.”
“Hey- haven’t I told you a million times before to just call me by my name? ‘Sir’ makes me sound... old.”
“Sure it does, sir.”
“Hey!”
You found yourself looking forwards to your meetings with the man, your professional smile slowly turning more real as he cracked joke after joke. It was hard for you to justify the excitement you felt as the appointments drew ever nearer as enthusiasm for a new project, sometimes even cutting short previous appointments to spend just a few more minutes in his enthralling presence.
The man was like a star, effortlessly pulling you and so many others into his orbit with every smile, every little moment that he looked at you like you were somebody worth listening to. It was so, stupid. So, so stupid of you to allow yourself to drop that shield of professionalism that had protected you time and time again. To let yourself befriend the man. To believe that he cared about you at all.
You had seen his type before. A rich man charming his way into someone’s life with lavish presents and pretty words, only to discard them like a child would a toy. A rich man blowing into your life in a whirlwind of laughter and light touches, only to storm out just as quickly. A heartbreak waiting to happen.
Despite how much it hurt, many nights spent biting back tears all over him, it was best for you to take a step back. Distance yourself a little. Rebuild the heavy brick walls around yourself that he had managed to charm his way past, and keep him out for good this time.
Bit by bit, you started to pull away from him. Your meetings which were once filled with amicable and easy-flowing conversation had shifted in tone dramatically. Your replies to anything he said or asked were polite, yes, but clipped, nipping any possible small talk in the bud. You fully resigned yourself to the role of ‘distant but helpful assistant’, shoving the parts of you that had laughed at his jokes into the deepest recesses of your mind.
You weren’t here to play, anymore- not when you had wasted so much time pining over a man who could never love you like you wanted him to.
It was clear that Scar noticed the absence of your comforting presence by his side, a hollow space where you once stood. You caught the glances he sent your way when you weren’t looking, an expression that looked suspiciously like hurt flickering through his eyes (although you knew better than to believe that he could possibly be worried about you).
It shouldn’t have been as big a surprise as it was when the presents started rolling in in earnest.
It seemed like every other day a new package or trinket was innocently sitting on your desk whenever you arrived at work, always accompanied with a small note from the billionaire who (most likely) had no idea about the butterflies that spawned in your stomach just from seeing him, hearing his voice. You had saved every single one, ignoring the pang in your heart whenever you caught a glimpse of his chicken-scratch handwriting out of the corner of your eye.
“Hey.”
You jolted in your seat, a nauseating mix of butterflies and dread stirring in your stomach. That voice- a light timbre that you equally adored and feared- could only belong to one person, the last person you wanted to see right now. You twisted around to see Scar leaning against the doorway, hands tucked into the pockets of a pair of maroon corduroy pants that you had designed. “Um, hi?”
He shot you a grin (your heart skipping a beat), tilting his head to the side in a dog-like, but still so distinctly Scar, manner before stepping into your office. He rounded your desk, planting his arms against the smooth wood and staring down at you with an unreadable look in his eyes- fern green seeming to see straight into your soul. You hesitantly folded your hands in your lap, praying to Prime above that he couldn’t see the tremor in them, and arranged your features into the most neutral look you could. “Can I... help you?”
He blinked as if snapping out of some sort of trance, and shook his head to reorder his thoughts. “Yes, actually. Did you- did you like the glasses I sent you?”
Oh, the glasses. You had mentioned off-handedly one day that you were having problems with the sun getting in your eyes when you were driving, an annual issue that came with Daylight Savings. You should have known by now not to give the man any ideas, because barely twenty-four hours later and a brand new pair of Iskallium Premier sunglasses was waiting for you on your desk. Iskallium Premier, as in the number one couture glasses brand in Java.
You bit your lip, only just missing how Scar’s eyes flickered down to your mouth, and repressed the urge to slam your head against your office furniture.
“Yes, actually. I, uh, I appreciate the gesture, but…” you sighed, bringing a hand up to pinch the bridge of your nose. You did not want to do this confrontation. “I can’t take this.”
“Nonsense,” Scar said, mercifully leaning out of your space. “I ordered it directly from Iskall himself, just for you.”
Prime above, sometimes you forgot this man was just as, if not more, stubborn than you when he wanted to be. Unfortunately for him, this was not an argument he was going to win.
“No, sir- I genuinely cannot accept this. I know you mean the best, but you should just give these to one of your other employees. Not me.”
For the first time since you’d met him, Scar looked genuinely lost, brow furrowed and lips parted in surprise as he stared, wide-eyed, down at you. Despite your inner turmoil, your face was a mask of ice and marble as you met his gaze. You were not budging.
Scar shut his jaw with an audible ‘click’ after a moment of tense silence, still not breaking eye contact with you as he took a step back from the desk, furthering the distance between the both of you.
“Are you sure?” he said, searching your expression for any hesitation, but coming up empty. You fisted your hands, straightening your spine as much as you could to meet him head-on.
“Of course, sir.”
He exhaled slowly, face closing in a way that felt almost disappointed as he pulled away. Saying his goodbyes, the brunette took one more look over his shoulder before sweeping out of the room.
You locked your office the minute the sound of his footsteps faded away, curling up into a ball against the door and sobbing. You felt like glass, splintering into a million tiny fragments that could never be repaired. You felt like you were drowning, unable to breathe under the weight of your own emotions.
You had pushed Scar away to keep yourself from getting hurt, but every day you were with him but not with him, you were bleeding out from where you carved your heart out and handed it to him.
You called in sick after you managed to drag yourself home, clutching your phone in shaky fingers from where you were huddled under your blankets. You could only hope you had hidden the sound of your sniffles well enough- Mojang knows how fast gossip spreads through the corporate chain. At least you wouldn’t have to contact Scar (you refused to acknowledge how you almost started to cry just thinking about him)- your boss would do that for you.
The next few hours were spent wallowing in your own despair, eating straight from the ice cream carton, and watching whatever cheap rom-com movies you could find on television. Oh, if only your parents could see their pride and joy now- reduced to a teary, sensitive mess, all because you fell in love with a man who had never known a second of your struggles.
You fell asleep to the quiet murmur of the TV speakers, surrounded by tissues and an empty box of chocolates you had bought for yourself after valentine’s day.
The second day wasn’t any better than the first. You barely managed to force yourself into the shower before you collapsed back into bed, staring up at the ceiling. Now that you had no more tears left to cry, you were just… numb. Your chest ached, a hollowness that threatened to consume you radiating through your body.
You could only blink as knocking rang through your apartment, lazily flopping the arm you had thrown over your eyes to the side to stare blankly at the door. You were roused from your lethargy when whoever outside knocked again, this time with so much force they were practically banging on the cheap wood.
Calling out for them to ‘Give you a second’, you shuffled over and swung open the door to come face-to-face with sharp green eyes, soft brown hair, and a face lined with worry.
Oh.
Oh no.
“S-Sir?” you said, suddenly very conscious of just how much of a mess you were. Your eyes were bloodshot and rimmed with red, a clear sign that you had been crying, and the oversized shirt you had been wearing as pajamas was rumpled and covered in tear stains.
“Can I come in?” he asked, and you suddenly noticed just how out of breath he was- as if he has run a marathon before he stopped at your apartment. His chest was heaving under the silk button-down shirt he wore, his normal suit jacket tucked under one arm and his hair sticking out at all angles. Your fingers twitched. You wanted to touch it.
Instinctively, you stepped to the side, allowing what could arguably be the source of all your problems to enter your home without any fuss. You played with your hands, self-conscious as Scar took in your living space for the first time.
Your apartment was small, with plain cream walls and slightly ratty carpeting. You had tried your best to brighten up the space with colorful window curtains and a few pieces of art you had gotten on sale, but it was hard to look past the cracking in the plaster ceiling, or the way floorboards creaked with every step.
“What are you doing here?” you blurted, unable to stew in silence as he inspected the room any longer. Scar jumped, unprepared for the sudden disturbance of his thoughts, but shook the surprise off in record time. He spun on his heel, crossing the space between you and gently grasping your upper arms. Your breath hitched as his face drew inches from your own, the brunette’s eyes burning into your own.
“I was worried,” he murmured, voice cracking slightly. “They told me you were sick, and you weren’t answering your phone when I texted or called, and-” he cut himself off, turning his face away with a sharp exhale.
Your gaze wandered to where your phone was splayed across the couch, and you winced. You had been too distraught to consider charging it, and it was clear that it had died right before Scar tried to contact you.
Scar looked back up at you, something so vulnerable in his eyes that it threatened to make your throat close up. “I asked around and they told me you were crying, and when I look at you I can see that it’s true. What happened, sweetheart? Who hurt you?”
He was so genuine, so sweet in tone and touch, that it shattered what little self-control you had regained.
“Why do you care, Scar?” you cried, wrenching your arms out of his grip as fresh tears dripped down your face. The billionaire’s face went slack, shock spreading across his features as you curled into yourself. “Why do you care? I’m your assistant, for Mojang’s sake! You don’t have to worry about me- I’m just another person on your payroll.”
Scar’s face crumpled. “I care,” he said, stepping forwards to cup your face in his hands. “Because I am in love with you.”
You stopped breathing.
“What?”
“I am in love with you,” Scar repeated, thumb swiping at your cheek in a gentle motion. “Prime- I think I always have been. When I first saw you, I could hardly take my eyes off of you. I knew that you would be someone I would want to cherish for the rest of my life.”
You screwed your eyes shut, allowing yourself to be tucked into his arms. Squeezing your arms shut, you finally allowed yourself to admit what had been tearing you up inside all along: “You asked me who hurt me. It was you.”
The arms encircling you tightened, the man holding you releasing a laugh that sounded suspiciously like a sob as he buried his face into the crook of your neck. “Is that what-? I- oh gods. I’m so sorry, love. I never meant- I didn’t want-”
You tightened the grip you had on his shirt, effectively shutting Scar up as you pulled him as close as you could possibly get. “It’s okay now. You’re here, and that’s all that really matters.”
You could figure everything- the forced distance, your tangled feelings, your guilt- out later. For now, you were content to hold one another as you finally released every single emotion you had bottled up over the months you had broken your hearts over one another.
You would be okay, because, in a world where money rules all, you gave your hearts away free of charge.
Hellooo I’ve come again to ask for another request since yours are still open!! :)) I can’t remember if I wrote this already but I loved the platonic xisuma oneshot you wrote and was gonna ask for another one but this time X asking Boatem to babysit the reader for the day and the reader and Boatem Crew getting into lots of shenanigans!! : DD thank you and have a good day/night!!
-🪨
Boatem Babysitters
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Character: Boatem x Child!Reader
Type: Series blurb (3) (3.3k)
Theme: Fluff, platonic
Summary: When Xisuma is needed off-world, its up to Boatem to keep you safe and entertained. Lets just say their better at one aspect than other.
TW: Mentions of respawn mechanic, panic, jokes about kidnapping
A/N: Lovely to have you back 🪨(Rock anon) :D. Boatem is not childproof at all, this is a horrible idea X, but some good shenanigans.
The sun was bright in the sky, hot rays basking your shoulders and cheeks. Squinting against the onslaught you toddled after your dad, following the familiar green armor. His hand tucked safely around yours. It always annoyed you that you couldn't feel all his skin this way, but the smooth cold press of the armor was welcome in the heat.
"You remember what I told you?" Dad asks suddenly, pausing before a strange splay of houses, with a pole of boats going into a large hole. The houses were mismatched but somehow felt woven together. The start to a large-chair? of rocks, what seems to be a mountain range, a factory? and a couple of homey looking houses. The scenery almost completely distracted you from the question, but you managed a response.
"Course!" You chirp back, eager to run around this new territory and touch EVERYTHING. A stern but gentle squeeze of your hand reminds you where you should be focusing.
"Can you repeat it?" He asks, quirking an eyebrow underneath his purple tinted visor. You've always wanted to try on his helmet, but he says its to delicate to play with. You sigh, dramatically.
"Behave, follow any orders they give, don't run away, don't eat food off the ground, and avoid nighttime and dark spaces." You recall the words he had engrained into you from the moment you had started getting other babysitters. Speaking of, the prospect of seeing the funny cat man, the bird, and the mustache man excited you. They had never babysat before!!! Maybe you could get away with not following some rules! Papa K was always quite strict when it came to enforcing things. Dad sighs, letting some tension drop from his shoulders and letting go of your hand.
"Good now-" He's cut of by the sound of rockets, and his head turns to follow the sound. Excitement rushes through you suddenly, and you cant hell but crane your neck to look for the source. A black blur swoops down, and lands clumsily onto the grass. Straightening out almost as if flustered.
"Sorry if I'm late! I got really into building and-" Its the mustache man!!! His posh accent contrasts dads own, and he sounds so fancy- paired with his suit- you want to have a tea party with him!!
"Your alright." Dad assures, "I was just going over the rules." He nudges you gently towards the mustache man. "Kiddo, this is Mumbo, Mumbo this is my kid."
Mumbo- but you prefer mustache, nearly stumbles over himself to offer you a handshake. Sort of silly, you think, because kids don't do handshakes, but it makes you feel special. His fingers are long, and very gentle and he shakes your hand softly. Theres a weird red stain on his palm, and when he pulls away you realize theres some on your own hand. Curiously, you sniff it- then sneeze harshly as dust infiltrates your nose.
"Ah- sorry!" He's wiping his hands down the front of his jacket now, smearing the red dust onto the black suit coat. You giggle at his antics. He flushes. "I-um Impulse and Grian should be here soon." He informs both you and Dad, but the words are instantly lost on you.
"What's your base?" You ask, tilting your head and trying your best to coax him with puppy eyes. Mumbo crumbles immediately.
"Uh well-" He turns to point at a weird...tree Gollum? Holding a van? "Thats my starter base- the tree is called Tereesa." That pulls a giggle from you. Tereesa- like tree- a smart name. He smiles, eyes crinkling and creating a sort of sparkle you enjoy. "-And that's the beginning to my mega base!" He's pointing to the big weird chair, but before you can ask-
"I'm here!" A loud voice announces behind you. You jump, spinning around and nearly crashing into Mumbo. Instantly hands clasp your shoulders to stop your decent. The voice belonged to the bird! Golden hair and bright red feathers glitter in the sun- he probably didn't need rockets to fly- which explained how he was so quiet.
"About time!" Dad scolds him, "I was waiting for at least two of you to be here- sure Mumbo could probably handle it but I like more eyes."
"Sorry X." The bird rubs the back of his neck, smiling sheepishly. "Well im here now! and so you can skaddle off to whatever important admin business and we!-" He leans towards you and Mumbo, nudging you with his elbow. "Will have a great time."
Dad pauses only a moment, squinting at the pair suspiciously before sighing and shaking his head.
"You better keep 'em safe- alright?" He asks, and the pair enthusiastically nod. "Okay- good bye hug." Dad opens his arms and you throw yourself in, nuzzling into his armor. A wave of sadness passes over you- and you lean back with puppy dog eyes.
"Do you have to leave?" You ask, his eyebrows furrow, but his eyes stay impossibly soft.
"I'm sorry Kiddo, I told you I'll be back before sundown." He reassures you, reaching forwards to pat you on the head. "Love you." He smiles.
"Love you too!" You respond enthusiastically, finally letting go and letting him stand. He pulls up his communicator- and is gone in a flash. The momentary silence is deafening.
"Sooooooooo..." The bird starts, "What do you want to do?" hmmm, what DO you want to do? You consider your options. You could....see their bases?
"Show me around?" You request, turning to face the pair. The bird looks enthused and Mumbo smiles as well.
"Course!- though thinking about it, maybe we should avoid the Boatem hole-" Mumbo trails off, thinking hard.
"Yes. We absolutely should avoid throwing Xisumavoid's child into the void." Another voice agrees from behind you- WHATS WITH IT AND PEOPLE APPROACHING FROM BEHIND???
You spin around, nearly knocking into the bird and Mumbo, who catch you again. This sight is very different- not the cat man but a new person! He has a yellow top hat, odd yellow suit, and a HUUGGGEEE purple bowtie. You almost want to ask if he got dressed in the dark!- but his eyes shine with amusement and affection, and his stance is casual. He smiles at you, offering you a handshake.
"Impulse- Wonderful to meet you." You reach for it immediately, his much larger hand easily grasping yours. Its warm and surprisingly smooth- but something odd presses between your palms-
You pull away and find a small hard candy in your hand. A gasp pulls from your throat before you realize it. Candy!!!! He gave you candy!!! Instantly he moves up the list of 'favorite people'.
"Oh c'mon Impulse thats a cheap move- buying favor with candy?" Bird man sounds disappointed, but you honestly couldn't care less. Impulse holds up his hands in surrender.
"If it works it works." and it works indeed.
"Thank you Mr.Impulse!" You chirp, remembering your manners before cramming the candy into your mouth. It's sweet and smooth, coating your tongue in mouth watering goodness. It's a flavor you can't quite place, but you don't care, its amazing. He chuckles, seeming amused by your reaction.
"Theres more where they came from." Impulse winks, and Mumbo stifles a laugh. His gaze snaps to the offending spoon. "What?"
"Sorry its just- your offering candy to a child you just met-" Mumbo breaks off into giggles and you gasp in realization. Your eyes widen and you stare at Impulse, gaping.
"Dad told me not to accept candy from strangers!!" You squeak, shuffling to frantically hide behind the pair.
"No no-" Impulse seems slightly panicked now, "I'm babysitting you just like those two- Xisuma trusts me." You just glare out from your spot behind Mumbo. He sighs, "Look, do you even know the bird's name?"
Hmmm....
oh.
"No...I guess I don't..." You squint at the bright red bird now, who squawks and glares at Impulse, before turning sheepishly around.
"I'm Grian." He offers a hand, its smaller then Mumbo's and Impulse's, but has a pointed claws extending from his nails. Your slightly worried he may hurt you- but hes extra careful to avoid that. Then, he spins around to face Impulse. "Now they know!" he declares, making the other shake his head fondly and approach.
"So whats the plan with activities?" Impulse asks, and you break into a grin.
"Show me your bases!!" You bounce on your toes, looking at the mismatched group excitedly. Nods all around.
"Mumbo's first!" Grian decides, grabbing said mans hand, and your own, to pull you towards the structure. Admittedly from afar it seemed quite cute- but as you approach...
Its large claws and gaping maw hang over you- its shadow completely consuming you and your small group. Instinctively, as Grian pulls you closer, you start to slow, tucking behind the cozy looking red sweater. The creature- Tereesa, as you learnt, stares down at you. Its beady eyes dig into your soul. Shivers run down your spine. Grian is talking, but the words are muddled compared to your heartbeat in your ears.
You jolt as a hand is delicately places on your shoulder.
"It's okay. It's just a build, it cant hurt you." Mumbo's voice is low, his grip tightening only a moment before releasing. The tension releases from your shoulders- right- just a fake tree.
"So what do you think?" Grian spins around with flourish, seemingly happy to take the role as tour guide. You fumble- having not payed attention.
"Its cool!" You nod, hoping your convincing enough "Sorta scary." he nods, too enthralled to notice anything wrong- but Impulse laughs under his breath.
"Next we should go see Scar's!" Grian declares, the other two nodding along. But this begs the question-
"Who's Scar?" You ask, Grian looks offended- but Impulse cuts him off.
"I think you call him 'Cat man?'" He tilts his head, watching to make sure it's correct. You gasp- of course!! Jellie!!! You bounce excitedly.
"Yea! I wanna see Jellie!!"
"Oh- so you know his cats name but not his?" Impulse laughs, nearly knocking off his top hat as he leans back. You glare, crossing your arms.
"He never told me his name! And Jellie likes me so I like her and want to know her name!" You defend immediately- and its true!! When Jellie had escaped she had spent her afternoon basking in the sun on your lap while you colored outside. When the cat man had found you two he was so frazzled he didn't introduce himself! Now you'll remember. "Can we go see Jellie??"
"Of course!" Grian chirps, butting in. "I'm sure Scar will be delighted to show her off- she's practically his prized possession!" His wings flare out- but he catches himself. "Right-can't fly-" He murmurs, offering you his hand. You eagerly accept, threading your fingers together, then sticking your other hand out. You fumble. You have two hands...but there's three people! What happens now? Mumbo steps forwards, accepting your hand, and, seemingly sensing your distress, offers his other hand to Impulse. Who shakes his head, but accepts. Now satisfied, you tug the line forwards.
Scar's base turns out to be the series of houses, a winding path beginning to be strung amongst the homey, pointed roof houses. The color pallet of reds, browns, blues and grey blends into a pleasant environment of peace and warmth. The roofs in particular catch your eye- copper! It was easy to find, but apparently really annoying to make the nice blue Scar had. There was so much of it! Scar must be super cool!! Thankfully- instead of sneaking up on you like the others- you notice Scar immeditly.
He to wore a top hat, but his was a lovely shade of red compared to Impulse's bright yellow. A matching suit, and monocle. What's with people and dressing so fancy here? Then, just as you had noticed him, he notices you.
"Well hello there!" He calls, waving with the hand not on his cane. Not wanting to let go of any hands, you tug forwards. Your group shuffles towards him as he strides to meet you. "What's with this little entourage-hm? Getting up to some mischief?" The words are accusatory, but the sparkle in his eye and gentle smile tells you that even if it was the case, he wouldn't be mad.
"No Mr. Scar, we're here to see Jellie!" You inform him, practically vibrating with excitement. "I like your base! Lots of blue copper!"
"Thank you, thank you." His infectious smile grows at the compliment, and blush dusts his cheeks. "And it would be my absolute pleasure to present lady Jellie-" He bows, gesturing into the very house he exited from. Peering inside- you spot her! Fluff curled up on a plush couch just inside.
Unable to help yourself you squeal, letting go of your new friends to dash inside- minding to wipe your shoes to not track mud onto the carpet. At the commotion, she lifts her head, blinking sleepily.
"Hi Jellie- remember me?" You blink back, grinning at the small creature. She perks, letting out a long thrill. You reach a hand to cart if through her soft fur- giggling when she presses into the touch eagerly. Her wide green eyes watch you contently, pupils wide and comfortable. Scar always took such good care of her- her fur was free from tangles, and she smelt vaguely of flowers. You pet behind her ears, and enjoy the purrs that vibrate her small body.
"She likes you a lot." Scar's voice rumbles behind you, gentle enough to not startle. It's almost reminiscent of Jellies purring with the sheer amount of fondness it's laced with.
"I like her a lot." You respond, craning you neck to glance at the fancy man. He grins widely at you.
"Are you planning to spend all your time here cuddling Jellie?- Not that I'd object to it, certainly makes our job easier." Ah so he was told. You hum, genuinely considering it. You liked Jellie a lot! But...there was more bases...so many cool things to see...
"Sorry Jellie, but I think I want to keep exploring." You tell the cat, watching her watch you. She meows, and you'd like to think she's saying 'Go have fun!' With that you stand, turning and offering your hand to Scar. "Okay- I want to see Impulse's base now" Scar's hand is warm, calloused and scarred skin odd against your own, but he's so careful and sturdy in a way that's distinctly him. You don't mind.
The group is still waiting, stopping their conversations at the sight of you and Scar. Then, you notice another problem. You had two hands, as did Mumbo, Grian, and Impulse- but due to Scar's cane he could only hold one hand! and if he was holding yours- he couldn't hold someone else's! But...you didnt want to NOT hold his hand....
Before you can worry any longer Grian accepts your hand, taking Mumbo's, and then Mumbo holds Impulse's. The line is a lot more uneven this way...but it solves your problem!
"So you said you wanted to see Impulse's base, but I think we should stop at Pearls before- she'll want to say hi!" Scar informs you, and you nod along. Pearl..thats such a pretty name! Maybe..
"Is her base the purple one?" You ask, and Scar nods. Excitement sparks, its such a good color!!
"That's a great idea Scar." Mumbo adds, making the other man beam.
"Hey- I'm the tour guide!" Grian objects, "Maybe I'll just avoid Pearl's base completely in protest!"
"Well that wouldn't be very nice!" A new voice cuts in, and you realize abruptly you were basically already there. Their bases were so close together!! You squint for the new person, and find a lady leaning against the fence of her porch, watching the group with a smile.
"Hi!" You greet, waving your hand, still clasped with Scar's. Your toothy smile clearly catches on, and she grins back.
"Heya Kiddo!" Skipping her steps, she effortlessly strides to you. "Want a tour?" Its clearly mostly to annoy Grian- but you cant help the excitement.
"Yea!!!" You nod enthusiastically, and he huffs, releasing your hand to allow you accept Pearls. Her hand is soft, but still bore the marks of tons of building- like Scar or Papa K's. As she gently guides you to her garden you decide you like it. The garden is a wide range of flowers all in bloom, purples, reds, yellows, blues, pinks- every color imaginable!! You want to touch them- but the fear of breaking the delicate blossoms holds you back. Pearl begins to name them, pointing to each and explaining a bit about them. Her voice is soothing, but carries and energy to keep you from falling asleep. As the sun beats overhead, and the gentle breeze ruffles your hair, you cant picture a more perfect day-
A loud yelp makes you jump. You spin around, terror clutching you for a moment.
Your original group had wandered a bit, until lingering around the large tower of boats and pit.
Impulse, Mumbo, and Grian.
Where was Scar?
Horror clutches you as you notice his hat at the edge of the hole-
and you lunge forwards before you can think.
Your legs carry you quickly, and you skitter to a stop, landing harshly on your knees. Reaching to pick up the hat and peer in. Did he fall in? Was he okay? Why wasn't anyone doing anything?
When your unable to see him down the hole, you lean further, peering into the dark depths below. Further...just a touch more-
The ground under your left hand crumbles- and the sudden lack of support sends you forwards-
For a second you feel weightless, fear clouding your mind and tears springing to your eyes- Wind whips by-
Then your abruptly caught- slight pain pulling in your shoulders at their newfound strain.
"I've got you-" A voice growls, labor clear. Your tucked into a chest- immediately burring into the soft material- and your brought to the surface. The grass under your feet has never felt more reliving. Knees buckling, you bring your savior down with you. "You're okay." A hand pats your head, the voice rumbling the chest you were clinging to. "You're safe."
Slowly, your heart slows, and the tears fade, while your limbs still shake- confidence begins to dribble back. Eventually, you lean back, blinking up at the person who caught you- Grian. His eyebrows are drawn into a worried expression, but he smiles upon seeing your face. "That was scary, huh?" you nod in agreement, sniffling.
"Where is Scar?" You ask, still caring despite the shock of the event. Grian chuckles, clearly still recovering himself.
"Don't worry, he's okay- he's back home."
"B-but why was his hat here?" You ask, now searching for the offending garment.
"Uh- well- Xisuma can explain later." He promises, seeming to awkwardly avoid the topic. Not want to cause any more stir, you simply nod, vowing to remember to ask later. Mumbo appears in your vision, and offers a hand. You take it, letting him basically pull you to your feet. The rest of your group lingers nearby, clearly wanting to approach, but also wanting to give you space.
They all apologize, check in to make sure your okay- and Impulse gives you more candy.
Then, a small warping noise.
You gasp, spinning excitedly to see him. Dad stands right where he left, having just warped back from where he was. He spots you as well- and you waste no time in launching yourself at him.
"DAD!" You squeal, letting your self burry into his chestplate. You wish it was the soft material of his shirt- but when he hugs back you deem it okay for now.
"Hey kiddo!" He greets, voice tired, but warm. "How was your day with Boatem?"
"I nearly fell into a big hole!"
"You What."
Hellooo I’ve come again to ask for another request since yours are still open!! :)) I can’t remember if I wrote this already but I loved the platonic xisuma oneshot you wrote and was gonna ask for another one but this time X asking Boatem to babysit the reader for the day and the reader and Boatem Crew getting into lots of shenanigans!! : DD thank you and have a good day/night!!
-🪨
Boatem Babysitters
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Character: Boatem x Child!Reader
Type: Series blurb (3) (3.3k)
Theme: Fluff, platonic
Summary: When Xisuma is needed off-world, its up to Boatem to keep you safe and entertained. Lets just say their better at one aspect than other.
TW: Mentions of respawn mechanic, panic, jokes about kidnapping
A/N: Lovely to have you back 🪨(Rock anon) :D. Boatem is not childproof at all, this is a horrible idea X, but some good shenanigans.
The sun was bright in the sky, hot rays basking your shoulders and cheeks. Squinting against the onslaught you toddled after your dad, following the familiar green armor. His hand tucked safely around yours. It always annoyed you that you couldn't feel all his skin this way, but the smooth cold press of the armor was welcome in the heat.
"You remember what I told you?" Dad asks suddenly, pausing before a strange splay of houses, with a pole of boats going into a large hole. The houses were mismatched but somehow felt woven together. The start to a large-chair? of rocks, what seems to be a mountain range, a factory? and a couple of homey looking houses. The scenery almost completely distracted you from the question, but you managed a response.
"Course!" You chirp back, eager to run around this new territory and touch EVERYTHING. A stern but gentle squeeze of your hand reminds you where you should be focusing.
"Can you repeat it?" He asks, quirking an eyebrow underneath his purple tinted visor. You've always wanted to try on his helmet, but he says its to delicate to play with. You sigh, dramatically.
"Behave, follow any orders they give, don't run away, don't eat food off the ground, and avoid nighttime and dark spaces." You recall the words he had engrained into you from the moment you had started getting other babysitters. Speaking of, the prospect of seeing the funny cat man, the bird, and the mustache man excited you. They had never babysat before!!! Maybe you could get away with not following some rules! Papa K was always quite strict when it came to enforcing things. Dad sighs, letting some tension drop from his shoulders and letting go of your hand.
"Good now-" He's cut of by the sound of rockets, and his head turns to follow the sound. Excitement rushes through you suddenly, and you cant hell but crane your neck to look for the source. A black blur swoops down, and lands clumsily onto the grass. Straightening out almost as if flustered.
"Sorry if I'm late! I got really into building and-" Its the mustache man!!! His posh accent contrasts dads own, and he sounds so fancy- paired with his suit- you want to have a tea party with him!!
"Your alright." Dad assures, "I was just going over the rules." He nudges you gently towards the mustache man. "Kiddo, this is Mumbo, Mumbo this is my kid."
Mumbo- but you prefer mustache, nearly stumbles over himself to offer you a handshake. Sort of silly, you think, because kids don't do handshakes, but it makes you feel special. His fingers are long, and very gentle and he shakes your hand softly. Theres a weird red stain on his palm, and when he pulls away you realize theres some on your own hand. Curiously, you sniff it- then sneeze harshly as dust infiltrates your nose.
"Ah- sorry!" He's wiping his hands down the front of his jacket now, smearing the red dust onto the black suit coat. You giggle at his antics. He flushes. "I-um Impulse and Grian should be here soon." He informs both you and Dad, but the words are instantly lost on you.
"What's your base?" You ask, tilting your head and trying your best to coax him with puppy eyes. Mumbo crumbles immediately.
"Uh well-" He turns to point at a weird...tree Gollum? Holding a van? "Thats my starter base- the tree is called Tereesa." That pulls a giggle from you. Tereesa- like tree- a smart name. He smiles, eyes crinkling and creating a sort of sparkle you enjoy. "-And that's the beginning to my mega base!" He's pointing to the big weird chair, but before you can ask-
"I'm here!" A loud voice announces behind you. You jump, spinning around and nearly crashing into Mumbo. Instantly hands clasp your shoulders to stop your decent. The voice belonged to the bird! Golden hair and bright red feathers glitter in the sun- he probably didn't need rockets to fly- which explained how he was so quiet.
"About time!" Dad scolds him, "I was waiting for at least two of you to be here- sure Mumbo could probably handle it but I like more eyes."
"Sorry X." The bird rubs the back of his neck, smiling sheepishly. "Well im here now! and so you can skaddle off to whatever important admin business and we!-" He leans towards you and Mumbo, nudging you with his elbow. "Will have a great time."
Dad pauses only a moment, squinting at the pair suspiciously before sighing and shaking his head.
"You better keep 'em safe- alright?" He asks, and the pair enthusiastically nod. "Okay- good bye hug." Dad opens his arms and you throw yourself in, nuzzling into his armor. A wave of sadness passes over you- and you lean back with puppy dog eyes.
"Do you have to leave?" You ask, his eyebrows furrow, but his eyes stay impossibly soft.
"I'm sorry Kiddo, I told you I'll be back before sundown." He reassures you, reaching forwards to pat you on the head. "Love you." He smiles.
"Love you too!" You respond enthusiastically, finally letting go and letting him stand. He pulls up his communicator- and is gone in a flash. The momentary silence is deafening.
"Sooooooooo..." The bird starts, "What do you want to do?" hmmm, what DO you want to do? You consider your options. You could....see their bases?
"Show me around?" You request, turning to face the pair. The bird looks enthused and Mumbo smiles as well.
"Course!- though thinking about it, maybe we should avoid the Boatem hole-" Mumbo trails off, thinking hard.
"Yes. We absolutely should avoid throwing Xisumavoid's child into the void." Another voice agrees from behind you- WHATS WITH IT AND PEOPLE APPROACHING FROM BEHIND???
You spin around, nearly knocking into the bird and Mumbo, who catch you again. This sight is very different- not the cat man but a new person! He has a yellow top hat, odd yellow suit, and a HUUGGGEEE purple bowtie. You almost want to ask if he got dressed in the dark!- but his eyes shine with amusement and affection, and his stance is casual. He smiles at you, offering you a handshake.
"Impulse- Wonderful to meet you." You reach for it immediately, his much larger hand easily grasping yours. Its warm and surprisingly smooth- but something odd presses between your palms-
You pull away and find a small hard candy in your hand. A gasp pulls from your throat before you realize it. Candy!!!! He gave you candy!!! Instantly he moves up the list of 'favorite people'.
"Oh c'mon Impulse thats a cheap move- buying favor with candy?" Bird man sounds disappointed, but you honestly couldn't care less. Impulse holds up his hands in surrender.
"If it works it works." and it works indeed.
"Thank you Mr.Impulse!" You chirp, remembering your manners before cramming the candy into your mouth. It's sweet and smooth, coating your tongue in mouth watering goodness. It's a flavor you can't quite place, but you don't care, its amazing. He chuckles, seeming amused by your reaction.
"Theres more where they came from." Impulse winks, and Mumbo stifles a laugh. His gaze snaps to the offending spoon. "What?"
"Sorry its just- your offering candy to a child you just met-" Mumbo breaks off into giggles and you gasp in realization. Your eyes widen and you stare at Impulse, gaping.
"Dad told me not to accept candy from strangers!!" You squeak, shuffling to frantically hide behind the pair.
"No no-" Impulse seems slightly panicked now, "I'm babysitting you just like those two- Xisuma trusts me." You just glare out from your spot behind Mumbo. He sighs, "Look, do you even know the bird's name?"
Hmmm....
oh.
"No...I guess I don't..." You squint at the bright red bird now, who squawks and glares at Impulse, before turning sheepishly around.
"I'm Grian." He offers a hand, its smaller then Mumbo's and Impulse's, but has a pointed claws extending from his nails. Your slightly worried he may hurt you- but hes extra careful to avoid that. Then, he spins around to face Impulse. "Now they know!" he declares, making the other shake his head fondly and approach.
"So whats the plan with activities?" Impulse asks, and you break into a grin.
"Show me your bases!!" You bounce on your toes, looking at the mismatched group excitedly. Nods all around.
"Mumbo's first!" Grian decides, grabbing said mans hand, and your own, to pull you towards the structure. Admittedly from afar it seemed quite cute- but as you approach...
Its large claws and gaping maw hang over you- its shadow completely consuming you and your small group. Instinctively, as Grian pulls you closer, you start to slow, tucking behind the cozy looking red sweater. The creature- Tereesa, as you learnt, stares down at you. Its beady eyes dig into your soul. Shivers run down your spine. Grian is talking, but the words are muddled compared to your heartbeat in your ears.
You jolt as a hand is delicately places on your shoulder.
"It's okay. It's just a build, it cant hurt you." Mumbo's voice is low, his grip tightening only a moment before releasing. The tension releases from your shoulders- right- just a fake tree.
"So what do you think?" Grian spins around with flourish, seemingly happy to take the role as tour guide. You fumble- having not payed attention.
"Its cool!" You nod, hoping your convincing enough "Sorta scary." he nods, too enthralled to notice anything wrong- but Impulse laughs under his breath.
"Next we should go see Scar's!" Grian declares, the other two nodding along. But this begs the question-
"Who's Scar?" You ask, Grian looks offended- but Impulse cuts him off.
"I think you call him 'Cat man?'" He tilts his head, watching to make sure it's correct. You gasp- of course!! Jellie!!! You bounce excitedly.
"Yea! I wanna see Jellie!!"
"Oh- so you know his cats name but not his?" Impulse laughs, nearly knocking off his top hat as he leans back. You glare, crossing your arms.
"He never told me his name! And Jellie likes me so I like her and want to know her name!" You defend immediately- and its true!! When Jellie had escaped she had spent her afternoon basking in the sun on your lap while you colored outside. When the cat man had found you two he was so frazzled he didn't introduce himself! Now you'll remember. "Can we go see Jellie??"
"Of course!" Grian chirps, butting in. "I'm sure Scar will be delighted to show her off- she's practically his prized possession!" His wings flare out- but he catches himself. "Right-can't fly-" He murmurs, offering you his hand. You eagerly accept, threading your fingers together, then sticking your other hand out. You fumble. You have two hands...but there's three people! What happens now? Mumbo steps forwards, accepting your hand, and, seemingly sensing your distress, offers his other hand to Impulse. Who shakes his head, but accepts. Now satisfied, you tug the line forwards.
Scar's base turns out to be the series of houses, a winding path beginning to be strung amongst the homey, pointed roof houses. The color pallet of reds, browns, blues and grey blends into a pleasant environment of peace and warmth. The roofs in particular catch your eye- copper! It was easy to find, but apparently really annoying to make the nice blue Scar had. There was so much of it! Scar must be super cool!! Thankfully- instead of sneaking up on you like the others- you notice Scar immeditly.
He to wore a top hat, but his was a lovely shade of red compared to Impulse's bright yellow. A matching suit, and monocle. What's with people and dressing so fancy here? Then, just as you had noticed him, he notices you.
"Well hello there!" He calls, waving with the hand not on his cane. Not wanting to let go of any hands, you tug forwards. Your group shuffles towards him as he strides to meet you. "What's with this little entourage-hm? Getting up to some mischief?" The words are accusatory, but the sparkle in his eye and gentle smile tells you that even if it was the case, he wouldn't be mad.
"No Mr. Scar, we're here to see Jellie!" You inform him, practically vibrating with excitement. "I like your base! Lots of blue copper!"
"Thank you, thank you." His infectious smile grows at the compliment, and blush dusts his cheeks. "And it would be my absolute pleasure to present lady Jellie-" He bows, gesturing into the very house he exited from. Peering inside- you spot her! Fluff curled up on a plush couch just inside.
Unable to help yourself you squeal, letting go of your new friends to dash inside- minding to wipe your shoes to not track mud onto the carpet. At the commotion, she lifts her head, blinking sleepily.
"Hi Jellie- remember me?" You blink back, grinning at the small creature. She perks, letting out a long thrill. You reach a hand to cart if through her soft fur- giggling when she presses into the touch eagerly. Her wide green eyes watch you contently, pupils wide and comfortable. Scar always took such good care of her- her fur was free from tangles, and she smelt vaguely of flowers. You pet behind her ears, and enjoy the purrs that vibrate her small body.
"She likes you a lot." Scar's voice rumbles behind you, gentle enough to not startle. It's almost reminiscent of Jellies purring with the sheer amount of fondness it's laced with.
"I like her a lot." You respond, craning you neck to glance at the fancy man. He grins widely at you.
"Are you planning to spend all your time here cuddling Jellie?- Not that I'd object to it, certainly makes our job easier." Ah so he was told. You hum, genuinely considering it. You liked Jellie a lot! But...there was more bases...so many cool things to see...
"Sorry Jellie, but I think I want to keep exploring." You tell the cat, watching her watch you. She meows, and you'd like to think she's saying 'Go have fun!' With that you stand, turning and offering your hand to Scar. "Okay- I want to see Impulse's base now" Scar's hand is warm, calloused and scarred skin odd against your own, but he's so careful and sturdy in a way that's distinctly him. You don't mind.
The group is still waiting, stopping their conversations at the sight of you and Scar. Then, you notice another problem. You had two hands, as did Mumbo, Grian, and Impulse- but due to Scar's cane he could only hold one hand! and if he was holding yours- he couldn't hold someone else's! But...you didnt want to NOT hold his hand....
Before you can worry any longer Grian accepts your hand, taking Mumbo's, and then Mumbo holds Impulse's. The line is a lot more uneven this way...but it solves your problem!
"So you said you wanted to see Impulse's base, but I think we should stop at Pearls before- she'll want to say hi!" Scar informs you, and you nod along. Pearl..thats such a pretty name! Maybe..
"Is her base the purple one?" You ask, and Scar nods. Excitement sparks, its such a good color!!
"That's a great idea Scar." Mumbo adds, making the other man beam.
"Hey- I'm the tour guide!" Grian objects, "Maybe I'll just avoid Pearl's base completely in protest!"
"Well that wouldn't be very nice!" A new voice cuts in, and you realize abruptly you were basically already there. Their bases were so close together!! You squint for the new person, and find a lady leaning against the fence of her porch, watching the group with a smile.
"Hi!" You greet, waving your hand, still clasped with Scar's. Your toothy smile clearly catches on, and she grins back.
"Heya Kiddo!" Skipping her steps, she effortlessly strides to you. "Want a tour?" Its clearly mostly to annoy Grian- but you cant help the excitement.
"Yea!!!" You nod enthusiastically, and he huffs, releasing your hand to allow you accept Pearls. Her hand is soft, but still bore the marks of tons of building- like Scar or Papa K's. As she gently guides you to her garden you decide you like it. The garden is a wide range of flowers all in bloom, purples, reds, yellows, blues, pinks- every color imaginable!! You want to touch them- but the fear of breaking the delicate blossoms holds you back. Pearl begins to name them, pointing to each and explaining a bit about them. Her voice is soothing, but carries and energy to keep you from falling asleep. As the sun beats overhead, and the gentle breeze ruffles your hair, you cant picture a more perfect day-
A loud yelp makes you jump. You spin around, terror clutching you for a moment.
Your original group had wandered a bit, until lingering around the large tower of boats and pit.
Impulse, Mumbo, and Grian.
Where was Scar?
Horror clutches you as you notice his hat at the edge of the hole-
and you lunge forwards before you can think.
Your legs carry you quickly, and you skitter to a stop, landing harshly on your knees. Reaching to pick up the hat and peer in. Did he fall in? Was he okay? Why wasn't anyone doing anything?
When your unable to see him down the hole, you lean further, peering into the dark depths below. Further...just a touch more-
The ground under your left hand crumbles- and the sudden lack of support sends you forwards-
For a second you feel weightless, fear clouding your mind and tears springing to your eyes- Wind whips by-
Then your abruptly caught- slight pain pulling in your shoulders at their newfound strain.
"I've got you-" A voice growls, labor clear. Your tucked into a chest- immediately burring into the soft material- and your brought to the surface. The grass under your feet has never felt more reliving. Knees buckling, you bring your savior down with you. "You're okay." A hand pats your head, the voice rumbling the chest you were clinging to. "You're safe."
Slowly, your heart slows, and the tears fade, while your limbs still shake- confidence begins to dribble back. Eventually, you lean back, blinking up at the person who caught you- Grian. His eyebrows are drawn into a worried expression, but he smiles upon seeing your face. "That was scary, huh?" you nod in agreement, sniffling.
"Where is Scar?" You ask, still caring despite the shock of the event. Grian chuckles, clearly still recovering himself.
"Don't worry, he's okay- he's back home."
"B-but why was his hat here?" You ask, now searching for the offending garment.
"Uh- well- Xisuma can explain later." He promises, seeming to awkwardly avoid the topic. Not want to cause any more stir, you simply nod, vowing to remember to ask later. Mumbo appears in your vision, and offers a hand. You take it, letting him basically pull you to your feet. The rest of your group lingers nearby, clearly wanting to approach, but also wanting to give you space.
They all apologize, check in to make sure your okay- and Impulse gives you more candy.
Then, a small warping noise.
You gasp, spinning excitedly to see him. Dad stands right where he left, having just warped back from where he was. He spots you as well- and you waste no time in launching yourself at him.
"DAD!" You squeal, letting your self burry into his chestplate. You wish it was the soft material of his shirt- but when he hugs back you deem it okay for now.
"Hey kiddo!" He greets, voice tired, but warm. "How was your day with Boatem?"
"I nearly fell into a big hole!"
"You What."
Hellooo I’ve come again to ask for another request since yours are still open!! :)) I can’t remember if I wrote this already but I loved the platonic xisuma oneshot you wrote and was gonna ask for another one but this time X asking Boatem to babysit the reader for the day and the reader and Boatem Crew getting into lots of shenanigans!! : DD thank you and have a good day/night!!
-🪨
Boatem Babysitters
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Character: Boatem x Child!Reader
Type: Series blurb (3) (3.3k)
Theme: Fluff, platonic
Summary: When Xisuma is needed off-world, its up to Boatem to keep you safe and entertained. Lets just say their better at one aspect than other.
TW: Mentions of respawn mechanic, panic, jokes about kidnapping
A/N: Lovely to have you back 🪨(Rock anon) :D. Boatem is not childproof at all, this is a horrible idea X, but some good shenanigans.
The sun was bright in the sky, hot rays basking your shoulders and cheeks. Squinting against the onslaught you toddled after your dad, following the familiar green armor. His hand tucked safely around yours. It always annoyed you that you couldn't feel all his skin this way, but the smooth cold press of the armor was welcome in the heat.
"You remember what I told you?" Dad asks suddenly, pausing before a strange splay of houses, with a pole of boats going into a large hole. The houses were mismatched but somehow felt woven together. The start to a large-chair? of rocks, what seems to be a mountain range, a factory? and a couple of homey looking houses. The scenery almost completely distracted you from the question, but you managed a response.
"Course!" You chirp back, eager to run around this new territory and touch EVERYTHING. A stern but gentle squeeze of your hand reminds you where you should be focusing.
"Can you repeat it?" He asks, quirking an eyebrow underneath his purple tinted visor. You've always wanted to try on his helmet, but he says its to delicate to play with. You sigh, dramatically.
"Behave, follow any orders they give, don't run away, don't eat food off the ground, and avoid nighttime and dark spaces." You recall the words he had engrained into you from the moment you had started getting other babysitters. Speaking of, the prospect of seeing the funny cat man, the bird, and the mustache man excited you. They had never babysat before!!! Maybe you could get away with not following some rules! Papa K was always quite strict when it came to enforcing things. Dad sighs, letting some tension drop from his shoulders and letting go of your hand.
"Good now-" He's cut of by the sound of rockets, and his head turns to follow the sound. Excitement rushes through you suddenly, and you cant hell but crane your neck to look for the source. A black blur swoops down, and lands clumsily onto the grass. Straightening out almost as if flustered.
"Sorry if I'm late! I got really into building and-" Its the mustache man!!! His posh accent contrasts dads own, and he sounds so fancy- paired with his suit- you want to have a tea party with him!!
"Your alright." Dad assures, "I was just going over the rules." He nudges you gently towards the mustache man. "Kiddo, this is Mumbo, Mumbo this is my kid."
Mumbo- but you prefer mustache, nearly stumbles over himself to offer you a handshake. Sort of silly, you think, because kids don't do handshakes, but it makes you feel special. His fingers are long, and very gentle and he shakes your hand softly. Theres a weird red stain on his palm, and when he pulls away you realize theres some on your own hand. Curiously, you sniff it- then sneeze harshly as dust infiltrates your nose.
"Ah- sorry!" He's wiping his hands down the front of his jacket now, smearing the red dust onto the black suit coat. You giggle at his antics. He flushes. "I-um Impulse and Grian should be here soon." He informs both you and Dad, but the words are instantly lost on you.
"What's your base?" You ask, tilting your head and trying your best to coax him with puppy eyes. Mumbo crumbles immediately.
"Uh well-" He turns to point at a weird...tree Gollum? Holding a van? "Thats my starter base- the tree is called Tereesa." That pulls a giggle from you. Tereesa- like tree- a smart name. He smiles, eyes crinkling and creating a sort of sparkle you enjoy. "-And that's the beginning to my mega base!" He's pointing to the big weird chair, but before you can ask-
"I'm here!" A loud voice announces behind you. You jump, spinning around and nearly crashing into Mumbo. Instantly hands clasp your shoulders to stop your decent. The voice belonged to the bird! Golden hair and bright red feathers glitter in the sun- he probably didn't need rockets to fly- which explained how he was so quiet.
"About time!" Dad scolds him, "I was waiting for at least two of you to be here- sure Mumbo could probably handle it but I like more eyes."
"Sorry X." The bird rubs the back of his neck, smiling sheepishly. "Well im here now! and so you can skaddle off to whatever important admin business and we!-" He leans towards you and Mumbo, nudging you with his elbow. "Will have a great time."
Dad pauses only a moment, squinting at the pair suspiciously before sighing and shaking his head.
"You better keep 'em safe- alright?" He asks, and the pair enthusiastically nod. "Okay- good bye hug." Dad opens his arms and you throw yourself in, nuzzling into his armor. A wave of sadness passes over you- and you lean back with puppy dog eyes.
"Do you have to leave?" You ask, his eyebrows furrow, but his eyes stay impossibly soft.
"I'm sorry Kiddo, I told you I'll be back before sundown." He reassures you, reaching forwards to pat you on the head. "Love you." He smiles.
"Love you too!" You respond enthusiastically, finally letting go and letting him stand. He pulls up his communicator- and is gone in a flash. The momentary silence is deafening.
"Sooooooooo..." The bird starts, "What do you want to do?" hmmm, what DO you want to do? You consider your options. You could....see their bases?
"Show me around?" You request, turning to face the pair. The bird looks enthused and Mumbo smiles as well.
"Course!- though thinking about it, maybe we should avoid the Boatem hole-" Mumbo trails off, thinking hard.
"Yes. We absolutely should avoid throwing Xisumavoid's child into the void." Another voice agrees from behind you- WHATS WITH IT AND PEOPLE APPROACHING FROM BEHIND???
You spin around, nearly knocking into the bird and Mumbo, who catch you again. This sight is very different- not the cat man but a new person! He has a yellow top hat, odd yellow suit, and a HUUGGGEEE purple bowtie. You almost want to ask if he got dressed in the dark!- but his eyes shine with amusement and affection, and his stance is casual. He smiles at you, offering you a handshake.
"Impulse- Wonderful to meet you." You reach for it immediately, his much larger hand easily grasping yours. Its warm and surprisingly smooth- but something odd presses between your palms-
You pull away and find a small hard candy in your hand. A gasp pulls from your throat before you realize it. Candy!!!! He gave you candy!!! Instantly he moves up the list of 'favorite people'.
"Oh c'mon Impulse thats a cheap move- buying favor with candy?" Bird man sounds disappointed, but you honestly couldn't care less. Impulse holds up his hands in surrender.
"If it works it works." and it works indeed.
"Thank you Mr.Impulse!" You chirp, remembering your manners before cramming the candy into your mouth. It's sweet and smooth, coating your tongue in mouth watering goodness. It's a flavor you can't quite place, but you don't care, its amazing. He chuckles, seeming amused by your reaction.
"Theres more where they came from." Impulse winks, and Mumbo stifles a laugh. His gaze snaps to the offending spoon. "What?"
"Sorry its just- your offering candy to a child you just met-" Mumbo breaks off into giggles and you gasp in realization. Your eyes widen and you stare at Impulse, gaping.
"Dad told me not to accept candy from strangers!!" You squeak, shuffling to frantically hide behind the pair.
"No no-" Impulse seems slightly panicked now, "I'm babysitting you just like those two- Xisuma trusts me." You just glare out from your spot behind Mumbo. He sighs, "Look, do you even know the bird's name?"
Hmmm....
oh.
"No...I guess I don't..." You squint at the bright red bird now, who squawks and glares at Impulse, before turning sheepishly around.
"I'm Grian." He offers a hand, its smaller then Mumbo's and Impulse's, but has a pointed claws extending from his nails. Your slightly worried he may hurt you- but hes extra careful to avoid that. Then, he spins around to face Impulse. "Now they know!" he declares, making the other shake his head fondly and approach.
"So whats the plan with activities?" Impulse asks, and you break into a grin.
"Show me your bases!!" You bounce on your toes, looking at the mismatched group excitedly. Nods all around.
"Mumbo's first!" Grian decides, grabbing said mans hand, and your own, to pull you towards the structure. Admittedly from afar it seemed quite cute- but as you approach...
Its large claws and gaping maw hang over you- its shadow completely consuming you and your small group. Instinctively, as Grian pulls you closer, you start to slow, tucking behind the cozy looking red sweater. The creature- Tereesa, as you learnt, stares down at you. Its beady eyes dig into your soul. Shivers run down your spine. Grian is talking, but the words are muddled compared to your heartbeat in your ears.
You jolt as a hand is delicately places on your shoulder.
"It's okay. It's just a build, it cant hurt you." Mumbo's voice is low, his grip tightening only a moment before releasing. The tension releases from your shoulders- right- just a fake tree.
"So what do you think?" Grian spins around with flourish, seemingly happy to take the role as tour guide. You fumble- having not payed attention.
"Its cool!" You nod, hoping your convincing enough "Sorta scary." he nods, too enthralled to notice anything wrong- but Impulse laughs under his breath.
"Next we should go see Scar's!" Grian declares, the other two nodding along. But this begs the question-
"Who's Scar?" You ask, Grian looks offended- but Impulse cuts him off.
"I think you call him 'Cat man?'" He tilts his head, watching to make sure it's correct. You gasp- of course!! Jellie!!! You bounce excitedly.
"Yea! I wanna see Jellie!!"
"Oh- so you know his cats name but not his?" Impulse laughs, nearly knocking off his top hat as he leans back. You glare, crossing your arms.
"He never told me his name! And Jellie likes me so I like her and want to know her name!" You defend immediately- and its true!! When Jellie had escaped she had spent her afternoon basking in the sun on your lap while you colored outside. When the cat man had found you two he was so frazzled he didn't introduce himself! Now you'll remember. "Can we go see Jellie??"
"Of course!" Grian chirps, butting in. "I'm sure Scar will be delighted to show her off- she's practically his prized possession!" His wings flare out- but he catches himself. "Right-can't fly-" He murmurs, offering you his hand. You eagerly accept, threading your fingers together, then sticking your other hand out. You fumble. You have two hands...but there's three people! What happens now? Mumbo steps forwards, accepting your hand, and, seemingly sensing your distress, offers his other hand to Impulse. Who shakes his head, but accepts. Now satisfied, you tug the line forwards.
Scar's base turns out to be the series of houses, a winding path beginning to be strung amongst the homey, pointed roof houses. The color pallet of reds, browns, blues and grey blends into a pleasant environment of peace and warmth. The roofs in particular catch your eye- copper! It was easy to find, but apparently really annoying to make the nice blue Scar had. There was so much of it! Scar must be super cool!! Thankfully- instead of sneaking up on you like the others- you notice Scar immeditly.
He to wore a top hat, but his was a lovely shade of red compared to Impulse's bright yellow. A matching suit, and monocle. What's with people and dressing so fancy here? Then, just as you had noticed him, he notices you.
"Well hello there!" He calls, waving with the hand not on his cane. Not wanting to let go of any hands, you tug forwards. Your group shuffles towards him as he strides to meet you. "What's with this little entourage-hm? Getting up to some mischief?" The words are accusatory, but the sparkle in his eye and gentle smile tells you that even if it was the case, he wouldn't be mad.
"No Mr. Scar, we're here to see Jellie!" You inform him, practically vibrating with excitement. "I like your base! Lots of blue copper!"
"Thank you, thank you." His infectious smile grows at the compliment, and blush dusts his cheeks. "And it would be my absolute pleasure to present lady Jellie-" He bows, gesturing into the very house he exited from. Peering inside- you spot her! Fluff curled up on a plush couch just inside.
Unable to help yourself you squeal, letting go of your new friends to dash inside- minding to wipe your shoes to not track mud onto the carpet. At the commotion, she lifts her head, blinking sleepily.
"Hi Jellie- remember me?" You blink back, grinning at the small creature. She perks, letting out a long thrill. You reach a hand to cart if through her soft fur- giggling when she presses into the touch eagerly. Her wide green eyes watch you contently, pupils wide and comfortable. Scar always took such good care of her- her fur was free from tangles, and she smelt vaguely of flowers. You pet behind her ears, and enjoy the purrs that vibrate her small body.
"She likes you a lot." Scar's voice rumbles behind you, gentle enough to not startle. It's almost reminiscent of Jellies purring with the sheer amount of fondness it's laced with.
"I like her a lot." You respond, craning you neck to glance at the fancy man. He grins widely at you.
"Are you planning to spend all your time here cuddling Jellie?- Not that I'd object to it, certainly makes our job easier." Ah so he was told. You hum, genuinely considering it. You liked Jellie a lot! But...there was more bases...so many cool things to see...
"Sorry Jellie, but I think I want to keep exploring." You tell the cat, watching her watch you. She meows, and you'd like to think she's saying 'Go have fun!' With that you stand, turning and offering your hand to Scar. "Okay- I want to see Impulse's base now" Scar's hand is warm, calloused and scarred skin odd against your own, but he's so careful and sturdy in a way that's distinctly him. You don't mind.
The group is still waiting, stopping their conversations at the sight of you and Scar. Then, you notice another problem. You had two hands, as did Mumbo, Grian, and Impulse- but due to Scar's cane he could only hold one hand! and if he was holding yours- he couldn't hold someone else's! But...you didnt want to NOT hold his hand....
Before you can worry any longer Grian accepts your hand, taking Mumbo's, and then Mumbo holds Impulse's. The line is a lot more uneven this way...but it solves your problem!
"So you said you wanted to see Impulse's base, but I think we should stop at Pearls before- she'll want to say hi!" Scar informs you, and you nod along. Pearl..thats such a pretty name! Maybe..
"Is her base the purple one?" You ask, and Scar nods. Excitement sparks, its such a good color!!
"That's a great idea Scar." Mumbo adds, making the other man beam.
"Hey- I'm the tour guide!" Grian objects, "Maybe I'll just avoid Pearl's base completely in protest!"
"Well that wouldn't be very nice!" A new voice cuts in, and you realize abruptly you were basically already there. Their bases were so close together!! You squint for the new person, and find a lady leaning against the fence of her porch, watching the group with a smile.
"Hi!" You greet, waving your hand, still clasped with Scar's. Your toothy smile clearly catches on, and she grins back.
"Heya Kiddo!" Skipping her steps, she effortlessly strides to you. "Want a tour?" Its clearly mostly to annoy Grian- but you cant help the excitement.
"Yea!!!" You nod enthusiastically, and he huffs, releasing your hand to allow you accept Pearls. Her hand is soft, but still bore the marks of tons of building- like Scar or Papa K's. As she gently guides you to her garden you decide you like it. The garden is a wide range of flowers all in bloom, purples, reds, yellows, blues, pinks- every color imaginable!! You want to touch them- but the fear of breaking the delicate blossoms holds you back. Pearl begins to name them, pointing to each and explaining a bit about them. Her voice is soothing, but carries and energy to keep you from falling asleep. As the sun beats overhead, and the gentle breeze ruffles your hair, you cant picture a more perfect day-
A loud yelp makes you jump. You spin around, terror clutching you for a moment.
Your original group had wandered a bit, until lingering around the large tower of boats and pit.
Impulse, Mumbo, and Grian.
Where was Scar?
Horror clutches you as you notice his hat at the edge of the hole-
and you lunge forwards before you can think.
Your legs carry you quickly, and you skitter to a stop, landing harshly on your knees. Reaching to pick up the hat and peer in. Did he fall in? Was he okay? Why wasn't anyone doing anything?
When your unable to see him down the hole, you lean further, peering into the dark depths below. Further...just a touch more-
The ground under your left hand crumbles- and the sudden lack of support sends you forwards-
For a second you feel weightless, fear clouding your mind and tears springing to your eyes- Wind whips by-
Then your abruptly caught- slight pain pulling in your shoulders at their newfound strain.
"I've got you-" A voice growls, labor clear. Your tucked into a chest- immediately burring into the soft material- and your brought to the surface. The grass under your feet has never felt more reliving. Knees buckling, you bring your savior down with you. "You're okay." A hand pats your head, the voice rumbling the chest you were clinging to. "You're safe."
Slowly, your heart slows, and the tears fade, while your limbs still shake- confidence begins to dribble back. Eventually, you lean back, blinking up at the person who caught you- Grian. His eyebrows are drawn into a worried expression, but he smiles upon seeing your face. "That was scary, huh?" you nod in agreement, sniffling.
"Where is Scar?" You ask, still caring despite the shock of the event. Grian chuckles, clearly still recovering himself.
"Don't worry, he's okay- he's back home."
"B-but why was his hat here?" You ask, now searching for the offending garment.
"Uh- well- Xisuma can explain later." He promises, seeming to awkwardly avoid the topic. Not want to cause any more stir, you simply nod, vowing to remember to ask later. Mumbo appears in your vision, and offers a hand. You take it, letting him basically pull you to your feet. The rest of your group lingers nearby, clearly wanting to approach, but also wanting to give you space.
They all apologize, check in to make sure your okay- and Impulse gives you more candy.
Then, a small warping noise.
You gasp, spinning excitedly to see him. Dad stands right where he left, having just warped back from where he was. He spots you as well- and you waste no time in launching yourself at him.
"DAD!" You squeal, letting your self burry into his chestplate. You wish it was the soft material of his shirt- but when he hugs back you deem it okay for now.
"Hey kiddo!" He greets, voice tired, but warm. "How was your day with Boatem?"
"I nearly fell into a big hole!"
"You What."
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With a side order of one-sided Scar x Grian and Scar x Reader
Warning: There are spoilers ahead, so be warned.
This was a prompt given by an acquaintance on @shepard-ram’s Discord server. (It’s an amazing server btw. So many amazing people)
You were a familiar face on the Hermitcraft server despite not joining any of the spinoff series that several of the hermits get themselves into. The hermits encouraged you to look at joining one of the many series. And so with their encouragement, you signed up for the new series, DoubleLife.
However with you in drawing pool, you now had no one to be your soulmate. When this was found out, you were given a special role instead. You were to be the Soul Seer. Instead of having a soulmate, you were able to see the ties between the Soulbound and were able to either cut or refasten the strings if needed.
Upon dropping into the new world, everyone began spreading out to find resources and their Soulbound. At this point, you were approached by Grian. Unknown to you, the winged hermit had been holding a rather significant crush on you for quite some time, and was praying that of all people, you’d be his soulmate.
He was devastated when he learned that you weren’t his Soulbound and even more so when he found out who was. Scar, why’d it have to be Scar? He didn’t love Scar, sure the man was a great friend, but Grian didn’t love him. Not like he loved you. You left soon after the two found each other, and quickly started planning yourself a base.
You had a fun time building your base. The other Hermits would stop by sometimes and share information and sometimes supplies with you. They seemed to take pity on your lack of a soulmate. You had yet to tell anyone of your given abilities and role. Even with the fiasco going on with Pearl and Cleo and their Soulbound. You got to hear loads of that gossip whenever the two came in to vent to you.
This was how you caught wind of the Sugarcane situation. According to the girls, Joel, and Etho; Grian had taken every piece of sugarcane on the entire server. You laughed at their exaspirated faces, and asked what they expected you to be able to do about it. And this was how you learned about his extreme crush on you.
The plan was for you to distract the lovestruck bird, while they tore through the man’s base. Then when he went to deal with them, Pearl would sneak back around and take you back to your house. It’d be like you were never part of the scheme at all. You thought about it for a bit, and agreed. While you didn’t like the idea of messing with the relationships of the Soulbound, Grian and Scar did NOT need all the sugarcane.
Grian had just about had enough. From the lighting the Ranch on fire, to painting a target on their backs because of the sugarcane, Grian was tired of Scar. The man was chaotic as hell, and for once, the winged hermit wanted none of it. He kept thinking of how peaceful it would’ve been with you as his soulmate. Soon enough he was looking for ways to sever his ties to Scar and attach them to you. That was how he learned about a rumor of you acting as if you could see the strings of fate. There was also talk of people seeing you trace your fingers through the air, and feeling a tugging deep in their chest.
The day that he planned to search the server for you and question you, was the day that you showed up at their base.
Grian whirled around the moment your voice reached his ears. Here you were, the l̶o̶v̶e̶ ̶o̶f̶ ̶h̶i̶s̶ ̶l̶i̶f̶e̶ person he was looking for. Oh how he missed you. He’d been so busy trying to keep himself and Scar alive that he hadn’t had the time to come visit your base.
You approached Grian, calling out his name as you drew nearer. You could feel the nervous energy growing in you as you remembered why you were here. Now that it had been pointed out to you, it was obvious that Grian was head over heels. There was no way to ignore the smile he gave you and the relief in his eyes as you asked to speak with him.
Several minutes of idle chat passed by, mostly about base progression and other mundane things. Seeing the group of Sugarcane invaders pass in the background, you decided that now was as good a moment as any. Taking a step forward, you place a hand on Grian’s upper arm. Peering up at him, you ask if you could do something that you had been wanting to try for a while.
Wordlessly, he nodded and you took that as your cue. You wrapped your arm around his neck and gently pressed your lips against his. You felt the man stiffen before his arms shot around your body and pulled you closer to him. One arm settled around your waist with the other running up your back to rest his hand against your head. You tangled your fingers in his hair and his beautiful, colorful wings wrapped around the two of you.
And as suddenly as the moment came, it left. The sound of crashes and yelling came from in and under Grian’s base, and the man pulled away from you. He blinked a few times, and tore off around the base, yelling about the sugarcane the entire way. Pearl was quick to pick you up and take you back to your house by horse. The plan was a complete success, with the sugarcane divided among those involved.
With a side order of one-sided Scar x Grian and Scar x Reader
Warning: There are spoilers ahead, so be warned.
This was a prompt given by an acquaintance on @shepard-ram’s Discord server. (It’s an amazing server btw. So many amazing people)
You were a familiar face on the Hermitcraft server despite not joining any of the spinoff series that several of the hermits get themselves into. The hermits encouraged you to look at joining one of the many series. And so with their encouragement, you signed up for the new series, DoubleLife.
However with you in drawing pool, you now had no one to be your soulmate. When this was found out, you were given a special role instead. You were to be the Soul Seer. Instead of having a soulmate, you were able to see the ties between the Soulbound and were able to either cut or refasten the strings if needed.
Upon dropping into the new world, everyone began spreading out to find resources and their Soulbound. At this point, you were approached by Grian. Unknown to you, the winged hermit had been holding a rather significant crush on you for quite some time, and was praying that of all people, you’d be his soulmate.
He was devastated when he learned that you weren’t his Soulbound and even more so when he found out who was. Scar, why’d it have to be Scar? He didn’t love Scar, sure the man was a great friend, but Grian didn’t love him. Not like he loved you. You left soon after the two found each other, and quickly started planning yourself a base.
You had a fun time building your base. The other Hermits would stop by sometimes and share information and sometimes supplies with you. They seemed to take pity on your lack of a soulmate. You had yet to tell anyone of your given abilities and role. Even with the fiasco going on with Pearl and Cleo and their Soulbound. You got to hear loads of that gossip whenever the two came in to vent to you.
This was how you caught wind of the Sugarcane situation. According to the girls, Joel, and Etho; Grian had taken every piece of sugarcane on the entire server. You laughed at their exaspirated faces, and asked what they expected you to be able to do about it. And this was how you learned about his extreme crush on you.
The plan was for you to distract the lovestruck bird, while they tore through the man’s base. Then when he went to deal with them, Pearl would sneak back around and take you back to your house. It’d be like you were never part of the scheme at all. You thought about it for a bit, and agreed. While you didn’t like the idea of messing with the relationships of the Soulbound, Grian and Scar did NOT need all the sugarcane.
Grian had just about had enough. From the lighting the Ranch on fire, to painting a target on their backs because of the sugarcane, Grian was tired of Scar. The man was chaotic as hell, and for once, the winged hermit wanted none of it. He kept thinking of how peaceful it would’ve been with you as his soulmate. Soon enough he was looking for ways to sever his ties to Scar and attach them to you. That was how he learned about a rumor of you acting as if you could see the strings of fate. There was also talk of people seeing you trace your fingers through the air, and feeling a tugging deep in their chest.
The day that he planned to search the server for you and question you, was the day that you showed up at their base.
Grian whirled around the moment your voice reached his ears. Here you were, the l̶o̶v̶e̶ ̶o̶f̶ ̶h̶i̶s̶ ̶l̶i̶f̶e̶ person he was looking for. Oh how he missed you. He’d been so busy trying to keep himself and Scar alive that he hadn’t had the time to come visit your base.
You approached Grian, calling out his name as you drew nearer. You could feel the nervous energy growing in you as you remembered why you were here. Now that it had been pointed out to you, it was obvious that Grian was head over heels. There was no way to ignore the smile he gave you and the relief in his eyes as you asked to speak with him.
Several minutes of idle chat passed by, mostly about base progression and other mundane things. Seeing the group of Sugarcane invaders pass in the background, you decided that now was as good a moment as any. Taking a step forward, you place a hand on Grian’s upper arm. Peering up at him, you ask if you could do something that you had been wanting to try for a while.
Wordlessly, he nodded and you took that as your cue. You wrapped your arm around his neck and gently pressed your lips against his. You felt the man stiffen before his arms shot around your body and pulled you closer to him. One arm settled around your waist with the other running up your back to rest his hand against your head. You tangled your fingers in his hair and his beautiful, colorful wings wrapped around the two of you.
And as suddenly as the moment came, it left. The sound of crashes and yelling came from in and under Grian’s base, and the man pulled away from you. He blinked a few times, and tore off around the base, yelling about the sugarcane the entire way. Pearl was quick to pick you up and take you back to your house by horse. The plan was a complete success, with the sugarcane divided among those involved.
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