#sorry about the wait i finally have the time to catch up on requests 😅

[patrick-stewart]

hi! i’m missing my boys so do you think i could request some headers of sam and bucky from tfatws

Totally! Here you go 🤗 The border versions are under the cut

#sorry about the wait i finally have the time to catch up on requests 😅 #marveledit #sambuckyedit #marvel headers #sam wilson #bucky barnes #sambucky #sambucky headers #completeresources #* #headers* #resources #headers #answered

[carnal-lnstinct]

I have a request!!! This is a story i will write someday, but I trust an amazing writer like yourself for this! Vegeta is in situationship with the reader, and realizes one day that he actually cares about her and loves her. In my head, this is an no powers au, and the reader is younger than him and she already is in love with him. I know this is not very specific 😅 but you can work around it however you want and you can ignore the details i gave if they bother you as well! But thank you so much for reading all my vague idea 💗

Pairing: Vegeta x Reader ( implied afab ) Content: M/18. MINORS DNI. au: modern au / no powers. wealthy!Vegeta. age difference; (40-45!Vegeta x 24-30!Reader). established fuck buddies. pining. A/N: A perfect concept! ♥ This one was a challenge only because I am never good at modernizing Vegeta or focusing on age difference, but I enjoyed this a lot! I’d love to take a crack at this concept again in the future with a better grasp of it.

Too open…Too small…Too thin…A cropped jacket? Really? He seemed to have a look of disgust at them all, impatiently watching your hand ghost over the wares on the wall and immediately feeling his jaw clench from each inappropriate one you dared to show a little interest in. Your smaller hand kept getting swallowed up in his coat sleeves as you moved down the aisle, it was starting to bother him to watch you fidget and constantly adjust in it. He can’t help but notice how you did your best to hold it over your frame while browsing and making this longer than it should have been.

You turn to him when another catches your eye in your favorite color, gauging his favor at the choice, and then moving on to the next when the squint in his eyes says “no”. 

His gaze skims a little further ahead of you as if to speed up this process by handling it himself. One of these coats had to be suitable for you, one that sits well on your shoulders, and the zipper won't bulge or fight to get over your chest. But your neck should still peek, he muses, and be able to breathe without a restricting collar. Your curves shouldn't be hidden under the material…Maybe a scarf to go with-

“—What the hell am I even doing here? You don't need me to buy a simple coat.” Vegeta caught himself and finally spoke up. He turned his nose up at this scenario, a hint of a growl in his tone. “I told you a long time ago to get a better one.” 

He couldn’t wait to throw that in your face. You’re actually impressed he held his tongue for so long and you give him an innocent shrug in response. It was beginning to get hard to read his outburst as anything more than his bark now as he donned that predictable scowl you loved so much. “Sorry. If you want your coat back you can take it now.” The large sleeves easily slide down your smaller arms. 

“Just hurry this up already. It's getting late.” He grimaced, speaking up quickly and stopping you from taking it off so soon. He's annoyed, even though it was his idea to bring you here for a better coat. You figured he was more annoyed with beating the idea in your ear almost every time you met and you continued to show up in your favorite old jacket regardless. You'd argue your old coat was handy! It did keep you warm getting from your front door to your car and vice versa. But then you were reckless and came to his front door without even that, the trek back to your car to get it feeling pointless when you were about to go inside anyway. Vegeta didn’t even say anything to you when the door opened, he just felt the rush of cold air pass the threshold before you and leered at you.

Then his thicker, slightly heavier coat hit your back and shoulders after he left you in the doorway and you understood that you had been lying to yourself for too long. The material was too cozy to not immediately get taken into its soothing warmth, snuggling it and shoving your hands into the deep pockets. Having only a moment to soak it all in, you were then promptly dragged away by the fuming man as he led you to his car. And now you’re here, scanning the coat section of a store you’d never think to set foot in. Still, you’re excited to be here.

Out in public with him, wearing something that belongs to him, needlessly—in your opinion—shopping for a replacement coat with him. You felt deeply acknowledged. Accepted. Your heart is restless in your chest while you try to contain yourself moving up and down the coat aisle. It's not like you had much in common outside of your attraction, so to share more than a few hours sweaty and naked with him was a nice change of pace. It left you wondering if he finally started to see the extent of your feelings for him or if you were just embellishing his generosity to be something more meaningful. He certainly doesn't seem to treat you differently than others aside from what you give each other in private, but there are instances like this that make you feel cared for like no other.

That same scowl watched over you now as you continued to gloss over the selection of coats and took note of the way you shifted your search from fashionable to functional by how you carefully looked over the price tags. Once you’re sure you’ve settled on one after a few meticulous moments, you turn back to him only to see he has moved from where he planted his feet to observe you. You let go of the hanger and move out of the aisle looking around and still fixing his jacket on you. That’s when you found his familiar silhouette at the register already, stuffing something in his pocket. His hand raises to the sales rep stopping them from bagging up the item on the counter and takes it in his hands. He sees you coming out of the aisle and walks up to you.

“Let’s go, we’re done here.”

“But I didn’t find-” Your favorite color fills your sights as he places a coat in your hand. A shade and taper at the waist that blends in with your wardrobe, and material that matched the heavy jacket hanging on your shoulders.

“Put it on.” It sounded like an order, but it’s just his impatience rearing itself again. Regardless, you don’t hesitate to switch the coats. 

The smell, the texture, and a fit that doesn’t bind your shoulders and arms. You rush to a mirror to see it on yourself and gush at your reflection. He found this for you. He bought it for you and was sure to remove the price tag so you wouldn’t gawk at it. There was an emotional twinkle in your eyes when you turned back to him. Of all the things you wanted to say, all rushing to your tongue, “Thank you, Vegeta” is all you were able to get out and clutched the cozy new fabric to yourself. Your heart was pounding and his scowl softened.

Without a word, he gestures his head toward the door with his returned coat under his arm began to head for the exit. You rushed to his side, clinging to his other arm with your face on his shoulder and the biggest smile on your face. Vegeta stiffened at your firm grip but didn’t flinch away, holding the door open for you to exit first, your smaller hands shifting to hold his as he tailed you out the door. 

Once you were back in the car and on the way back to his home, all the words you sat with piled up on the tip of your tongue again and caused you to fidget with his coat in your lap. You tried to distract yourself by scrolling through your phone and giving your feelings a chance to settle, but you couldn’t help stopping to admire the fabric of your new coat and the adorable opalescent fastens at your wrist keeping the sleeves from sliding up and down your arm. It’s too fancy for words. Suddenly inspired, you lift your phone and angle it up at yourself for a selfie in it. A thought crossed your mind, and you leaned over toward the driver’s side intending to capture both of you. You see his eyes flick from the road for a moment and his resting glare becomes more prominent.

“Who is that for?” He asked with his usual condescending tone.

“Me. You don’t mind?” He shrugs in response, uncaring on the matter by your answer and your eyes light up. “Really? You’re okay taking pictures with me?”

“...Do I need to make a face or something?”

You giggle, “No. Just smile with me.” That seemed to be the grueling part by the way his frown stretched skeptically. But he rolled his eyes and complied with a half-hearted smirk for your picture. 

You have teased that his scowl makes him look older, but no one would know by simply looking at him that there is an evident gap between your generations. A man like him had no business giving you the attention he did and that’s probably why the approach to your relationship is so ambiguous. Moreover, unlike you, he comes from old money and most likely has “old money expectations”. There is a sense of entitlement to what he has and what he wants that proves that prestigious background. You could consider yourself as recreational to him as a round of golf or sipping cocktails in an infinity pool but you would just hurt your own feelings thinking like that.

A girl like you had to just be for a bit of fun for him though, right? Young and naive and swearing your independence is solid. But your feelings for him are real. It is his reliable presence and fantastic cock that keep you in contact with him, but also his mysterious allure. You wish you could figure out where you stood between what he has or wants, or if you truly are just a dalliance. Sometimes he treats you like he already has you and expects certain things about you that show his adoration beyond your body, but he's never directly said he wanted you for more than company for a night or two. To buy you something as permanent as a coat felt like a claim over you. He wants you comfortable against the cold even when he’s not around, and he doesn’t hesitate to fix that when you keep putting it off. But the fact of the matter is you’re just going back to his house so you could fuck.

“...Do I-...” Your tone broke and you cleared your throat, hesitating again. You don’t want to ambush him over the matter but you really want to get this off your chest. You glance up from your phone and his head is tilted towards you with his eyes still on the road.

“Speak up.”

“I-It’s nothing.” You quickly answer, shrug, and sit quietly for an endless minute. Then, you swallow your nerves. “...I just didn’t think I meant that much to you to do this.” Your hands slide down the collar of your cozy coat as you grip it and keep your eyes in your lap.

“Tch, It’s just a coat.” Vegeta brushed off the gesture.

“An expensive coat…” You corrected. “You picked this out and made them remove the tag so I can’t see how much to pay you back for it. So… unless I’m just… like your little baby doll now-”

“It’s a coat.” He firmly insisted, then scoffs. “You know how annoying it is to tell you to do something and you don’t do it? You freeze your ass off every time you show up on the entrance camera. What if I was on the other side of the house when you showed up?” 

Waiting in the cold would feel like an eternity, you admitted to yourself. His house isn’t small, further proof of his prestige. “But I know you’re gonna let me in and warm me up. You don’t have to buy me a new coat.”

“And then you’re back out in the cold..” He huffs out a laugh as he shakes his head. “...Freezing in your car waiting for it to warm up again with that thin thing you call a jacket. No.” His driving posture relaxes, the older man's head and spine sinking back against his seat. “...I wanted to. Okay?”

“...Okay.” Your prepared rebuttal of your self-sufficiency falters in response to his suddenly softer tone. The dull pink in your cheeks and the rise of butterflies in response gave him your submission. You stare at him quietly for a moment watching the way his eyes flicked in thought and he finally sighed. 

“I don’t know what I’m doing with you anymore…” Vegeta concedes and he freed a hand from the wheel to rub his forehead. There's an instance where his expression relaxes into one you've never seen, but as he begins to air his grievances his brows furrowed in their familiar way. “I don’t know what you want, you don’t ask me for anything. You only show up when I call, and gone before the sun is up. Is it the house? Do I scare you when we’re not just getting off?”

“No. No. I just thought…” Your breath trembles as you inhale and then you can't stop the words falling out once you let it go. “I don’t know, I just don’t wanna bother you or get in the way of your lifestyle. That’s why we just meet and fuck, right?”

“I want you in the way, damn it! I’m not just tolerating you for an easy fuck.” He suddenly bursts out and speaks in an accusatory tone. “You just don't act like you want more than that.”

It wasn’t as affectionate or romantic as you let your imagination curate it, but without a doubt that was the validation your lovesick heart sought. That's when the car stopped. You were back at his house. Something about his eyes fully on you now makes your thoughts spill like a broken pipe. 

“I couldn't tell if you wanted more than that. We’ve only been doing it since we met. I thought It was much too soon to…fall for you like this..” You confessed, the uncertainty no longer in your voice. 

“Believe it or not, it is more than your body that interests me. If you want to take things slower..”

The corners of your mouth twitch as you try to contain your smile, tightening your lips shut. You suddenly feel shy with this man who makes your eyes well up with tears trying to hold his entire cock in your mouth. Taking it slower means more time out together and you can’t help thinking about the dates you could go on that aren’t just a wine and dine for foreplay. Though you love that. 

You lift your eyes to him and let your smile spread. “It doesn’t have to start tonight…” You suggest, your eyes reflecting the deep attraction you had for him right now. You get a smile in return, not that prideful or crooked smirk but a genuine smile and it makes you bite your lip enticingly. He did buy you a beautiful and comfy coat, after all. You should show your gratitude as you unbuckle your seatbelt and climb over your seat into his waiting arms.

#vegeta x reader #vegeta imagine #dbz fics #dbz imagine #My writing #♚ ;; [ requests ]

[pinievsev]

Hi it's mee!! Since you always have amazing Ideas for requests, you must be amazing at fulfilling requests too!!

I'd like to request a Hunter from xikers fluff, where reader goes on a first date to the movies with Hunter and they're both nervous in the beginning but then they hit it off and get very cute with each other!!

Thank you in advance and take as much time as you need! Love you 💞💞💞

I have, finally found motivation to write! I hope this does justice to your request! I'm not exactly the best at it, I might disappoint you but I hope you enjoy Love<3! (Could've definitely done a better job on this 😅)

{Requests are open, you can find my masterlist here!}

!!LOUD!!

Pairing: nonidol!Hunter X GN!reader

Warnings: none as far as I know.

Take a shot for every time I say a variation of the word awkward.☠️

☆★☆★☆★☆☆★☆★☆★

You were telling yourself not to panic, be calm, cool. You can do this! Just be yourse-

Your train of thought was cut short as you tripped on the sidewalk, barely catching yourself last second. The other day you had been asked out on a movie date by you crush!

Yeah, you were happy and excited and all that, but you were, rightfully so, nervous. You stood up properly and checked your phone. 8:15PM. You were supposed to be there 15 minutes ago!

You basically ran to the cinema a couple blocks down, a pit forming in your stomach as you saw a very uncomfortable looking hunter outside the cinema glancing around. You mentally slapped yourself and rushed over, apologising over and over "...and I lost track of time and-" he waved his hands Infront of your face, dismissing your apology.

"It's fine! It's okay! I just got here anyway!" He gave you a half smile, you could tell he lied but you nodded, not pushing any further.

"can we just- go inside?". He reached for your hand as you looked for the room you were supposed to be in, making butterflies erupt in your stomach, cliché I know, for a second you felt like you should pull your hand away but you forced yourself not to, instead letting your mind wander. You had let him pick the movie, so you didn't know what to expect.

After a couple minutes of waiting in your sits, your hands awkwardly touching, the lights inside the room finally dimmed and you focused your eyes on the screen.

Your jaw fell open as you saw the movie playing, it was one of your all time favourites! You had watched it so many times and never gotten bored of it. Forgetting the awkwardness moments prior you excitedly turned your head towards him, kind of scaring him.

"W-what-?!" He asked earning a couple of 'hushes' and 'shushes' from the people around you "You like this movie?" You asked, immediately regretting the question. He picked it! Of course he liked it! "Yeah- do you not?! We can always do something else-" "no no! It's actually one of my all time favourites, it's just. Not exactly too known that's why I'm surprised" you explained.

He quickly relaxed, squeezing your hand which you had forgotten was still in his "you scared me!" He whisper yelled this time "Sorry-?" He started at you for a couple of seconds before letting out a wheeze at how tense you looked suddenly.

So, he took it upon himself to help you relax, even though he was tense himself. Throughout the movie you talked about the plot, your favourite characters and even recited some of the lines along with the actors on screen. Laughing whenever someone shushed you.

Towards the end of the movie, you had noticed him turning to look at you quite frequently, your face was flushed red and you thanked whatever higher power was responsible for the darkness inside the room. "Hey.." you turned your head to look at him this time "yeah?" He leaned closer "You're red. Is everything okay?" Dammit. You took in a sharp breath "yep, just a little hot" you made up the stupidest excuse possible.

"yeah, you are." It was barely audible but you heard it, blinking at him repeatedly "wha- what?" "I'll tell you later" he motioned to the screen, turning to focus back on the movie that was mare seconds away from ending. Leaving you sitting there confused and flustered.

Walking out of the cinema you turned your head sharply towards him crossing your arms "Wanna tell me what that was?" He mimicked your actions "but your know what it was?" You narrowed your eyes "do I?" "Mhmmm" he gave you a toothy smile, basically melting you. How can someone he so cute?!

.

You were currently sitting on swings in a park, having lost track of time. You just sat there not swinging or anything you just rested your head on the chain, starting to once again feel awkward.

You felt someone standing behind you so you looked up, You saw Hunter standing over you, looking down at you "are you always this quiet?" "Maybe" you gave him a side smile, you've only been out for a couple of hours but you were starting to warm up to him even more than you already had.

He leaned down, a couple of inches away from your face "Maybe? What kind of answer is that?!" You bumped his shoulder and he laughed "ok no seriously, why are we so quiet?" Your eyes shone as you decide to have some fun "Oh? Well if that's the problem, WHY NOT BE LOUD?!" you asked raising your voice "Shhh, hey hey!" "WHAT?! I THOUGHT YOU DIDN'T WANT ME TO BE QUIET?!" "Yeah, not so loud tho!" You smiled satisfied with yourself "OH YEAH?! SORRY I DON'T REALISE" you noticed some windows light up across the street, making your eyes wide "Be quiet!" He warned playfully leaning closer "or what?" You asked not as loudly as you hoped.

Wanna take a guess on what happened next?

If you guessed a kiss, you'd be absolutely correct.

"or that" you tilted your head to the side still looking up at him from the swing you were sat on "I should be loud more often then?" "You can just ask, you know." You stood up and turned to him "can I have another one then?" "Good question. Can you?"now it was your turn to lean over, kissing him instead.

Well, that went better than you were expecting, not complaining or anything!

☆★☆★☆★☆☆★☆★☆★

#xikers fluff #xikers fanfic #xikers imagines #xikers #xikers hunter #hunter x reader #kpop x reader #xikers imagine #xikers hunter x reader

[paperstarwriters]

Hello hope your day is amazing

I was wondering if you could write a Muriel x florist reader where when Muriel is making his once in awhile trip into vesuvia he goes past the readers shop and she gives him tulips because he looks sad and he takes them but after he's gone they forget him obv but the next time he comes into town it happens again and again until he finally gives the reader myrrh and then they remember all those times and get really embarrassed

My first request!!! Wow!!! Now technically I haven’t had any explicit availability on requests because of classes but, well I may just open them up now! (Of course though not all requests will end up this long 😅)

Also, I just wanna mention, that when I first got this request my day had been a little bit of a mess but this certainly brightened it thanks so much!! 💕💕💕💕

By the way, Anon, I am SO sorry I took so long to write this. It ended up getting really long and then I ended up deleting everything and rewriting everything because I thought it could’ve been better lol—Not an excuse, but I kinda wanna be transparent about these things because it helps me acknowledge that no, I did not magically make a perfect fanfic on my first go, and other authors do not make perfect fanfics in one go.

Also I understand that this has since been requested to someone else now too because I was taking so long, and I really don’t mind, though I feel kinda bad to have been so slow. Unfortunately life just tends to interfere and all that.

Anyways,

A Flower a Day Keeps The Lonely At Bay

Pairing: Muriel x Flowershop!Reader

Warnings: Lack of communication (ie. Muriel being shy), awful & rich customers, who pay the cops to chase you down, Reader also Swears.   Summary: A flower a day keeps the lonely at bay, but two to three more, and I’m here at your door, ever waiting, ever waiting, never sure never sure.

Muriel finds himself making visits outside of his hut a little more frequently than usual, accumulating a small bouquet of flowers made larger by a few flowers at a time with every trip he makes to the market.

The only issue is, he hasn’t exactly paid for these.

Masterlists | The Arcana Masterlist

Word Count: 14, 181

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Muriel watched as red washed down from the coliseum stands.

He should be grateful. The sight should uplift him—should release that tension tied deep in his chest. It should fill his chest with something other than dread.

After all, for once, it wasn’t blood.

Red roses drip down from above, their petals peeling away from the bright blooming flowers, cut in the peak of their beauty fluttering in the wind, catching in the sunlight, and falling onto the hot arena sands, still yellow, still free from blood, now stained with a new shade of red. The audience cheers instead of screams, clapping instead of booing. They throw flowers instead of stones.

All for his opponent.

A foreign fighter from a kingdom not too far away, his opponent bathed with open arms in the rain of flowers and roses, smiling and waving at the people above who cheered and wailed their name in rapt awe and delight.

If he were sitting in the stands, watching the battle from afar, he’s certain he would see how clunky and awkward he had been fighting. Lucio had told him that unlike his usual “criminal” opponents he was not to kill the foreign fighter lest he piss off the other kingdom, and wile he wasn’t sure exactly when Lucio had grown so conscious of other people’s feelings, Muriel had been grateful for the chance not to kill his opponent.

It was naïve of him to assume it was something he could simply stop doing.

With every swing of his massive axe, made to cleave heads from their shoulders, Muriel found himself faltering. With every attack, he wondered if this was the swing that would kill his opponent, if this was the swing that would start a war between kingdoms. His opponent, who had no such qualms, was able to slowly whittle away at his defenses until they knocked him to the sand and pressed a dagger to his throat.

When Muriel was shuffled out of the coliseum to be slotted away into the cold cell they called his room, he watched as the other fighter received a glory he never saw for himself. Armfuls of gifts, boxes of food or sweets, letters sealed with hearts and given with bright grins on their faces, and armfuls upon armfuls of flowers. Sitting in his cell, Muriel watched as his opponent passed by with many servants in tow, all needing to be led by Lucio, as they couldn’t see past the heaps of flowers that crowded their arms.

A flower slipped past someone’s grasp, drifting it’s way into his room. It was rose-like in it’s colour. A deep crimson hue, although the shape of it was a far cry from a rose. He could hope that it was something precious and expensive, from some bouquet of foreign flowers, but Muriel couldn’t help but doubt. Perhaps it was something cheaper, something carelessly held and carelessly dropped into the cell of this careless fighter. Its a thing to be admired regardless, something pretty and colourful to enter his drab cell. He plucks it off of the floor, to cradle it’s delicate petals appreciate the soft, sweet smell of it.

Something sweet something soft, and colourful and kind.

It’s not something that would last very long with him.

Lucio returns past him a few moments later, having led the servants to whatever lavish room he had prepared for the foreigner and their followers. The red flower dropped against the hallway floors catches his eye, and with two golden talons he plucks it from the floor, smiling as he appreciates it’s delicate, feeble beauty. He continues down the hall, not even sparing Muriel a glance, as his footsteps crack against the stone floors.

He’ll throw it away the moment he gets outside perhaps, or maybe even sooner than that. Or maybe, just maybe he’ll get some small little cup and let the flower live just a little longer. It’s doubtful though, considering how easy it would be for someone like him to get more flowers. People gift him things all the time, and whatever he doesn’t receive as a gift, it would be simple for him to purchase himself.

Muriel never received gifts in his life as a gladiator.

After all he’s done, he didn’t deserve them.

He did not deserve flowers.

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Muriel pulled his basket closer towards himself, shifting the strap that attached it to his back to rest more comfortably on his shoulder. Although he initially refused the offer, he’s grateful for Asra’s insistence, and even more grateful for the gift. It’s practical. With it, he can carry so much more materials than he ever had before. Flour, rice, fruits, he can place it all in his basket and leave his hands free to purchase smaller things, like bread or berries or herbs, or whatever else he might need. Most importantly, being able to carry so much at once, Muriel can limit his trips into the market as a once in a month or two journey.

Sure, the basket made him look bigger, only drawing more attention to his broad looming frame, and sure, perhaps it was a bit heavy to carry so much groceries all in one go, but if it meant he’d only have to endure the bustle and crowds of the market less, it was certainly a sacrifice he was willing and ready to make. Even the longer journey the basket imposed on him—since it would not fit into the smaller alleyways—was made more tolerable knowing that he would not have to return for a while.

It’s his saving grace amidst the crush of people yelling and hawking their wares, the inconsiderately placed shops of medicine right beside shops of food where delicious scents make the dizzying medicine smell stronger. The push and shove of impatient customers—all of it is made just a little more tolerable knowing it’d be over soon.

Soon. He assures himself. Just a little further, then I’m out of the market. Just past these next few shops, just a little more…

A blur of bright colours catch his eye. Though it was hardly enough to stop him from walking, he slowed at the sight, unable to help but stare at the little shop squished between and behind a few other stalls. For some other shops perhaps the size would be moderate enough, if only a little squishy to sit inside, but for that shop in particular, it seemed downright tiny, dwarfed by the flowers that seemed to burst from any and every opening it could get, starved for space and sunlight, and with the vivid colours and unruly growth—starved for attention.

He didn’t mean to stop in place, but he couldn’t help but stare at all the pretty flowers before him. Butterflies twitched from where they sat atop flowers, and bees bumbled lazily from flower to flower, all delighted at the sheer variety they had before them to enjoy. Like the many insects around him, Muriel found himself drawn into the little alcove the shop provided, drowned in the flowers and their soft and tender scents.

Setting his basket aside, Muriel let himself breathe. The crush and bustle of the crowds were still there, but a panel from another shop blocked him from their view. An alcove large enough for him to hide him—he never thought he’d find a place like that.

“Hello?”

The voice was by no means loud. It was a far, far cry from anything accusatory or cruel, and yet still, Muriel can’t help the urge to leap up in place and run, the thin branch of flowers reaching over his head, serving as the only thing to stop him from doing so. Careless movement could damage the pretty little things, and even if it would sting, damaging the beauty of something seemingly so abandoned, he’d hate to have to deal with the ire of the shopkeep should he damage their precious merchandise.

—Should he damage your precious merchandise.

Wearing mud-smeared clothing and a pair of gloves, it was clear you were the caregiver of these flowers and therefore, the owner of the shop.

Maybe he should have noticed it sooner—seen the vibrant colours and assumed nothing that bright and big could grow naturally, or maybe he should have looked closer to those openings and noted how clean the curtains of the window—the very one you now leaned out from—were.

“I’m sorry.” he mutters, scrambling to get his things while still taking care not to damage the flowers of your shop.

“No, no. It’s okay,” you tell him, smiling a little as you watch him pick up his basket once more. “You don’t have to go, I’m not gonna kick you out.”

“I’m out of money,” he blurts out in reply.

While technically a lie, there is some semblance of truth in it too. He’s already spent his limit of what he set out to buy today, and he really didn’t want to buy any more, just in case he needed the money for something else more important.

“That’s fine you don’t have to buy anything. It’s a nice place to relax here.”

Muriel nodded, but knowing he’s long since outstayed his welcome, he turns instead, fully ready to leave and let you forget. Hopefully he wouldn’t need to come by this side of the market place again any time soon.

“Hey! Wait!”

Oh no.

What did you want now? Did he break something? He might’ve hit or damaged some of those flowers with the basket, maybe it wasn’t a good idea to accept Asra’s gift. It made it so much harder to not bump into things. Automatically, he reaches for his pockets prepared to out himself for his earlier lie rather than have to deal with the accusations and demands for damaging merchandise.

Instead, he finds the flowers still intact, and a new one, bright yellow, and mere inches from his face.

“Here,” you say with a smile as you lean out—nearly tipping yourself out—form your shop’s little window. “Take it. Just a little something to brighten your day.”

It’s a simple little flower, with yellow petals like the sunshine that dappled through your flowers and their leaves.

He hesitates, unsure of whether or not to receive your little gift, what your ulterior motives might be, or what he needed to do for this gift, but you had been insistent, slipping the flower into his half open hand before he has a chance to back out. Satisfied with your gift, you smile with a brightness that matches the flower you’ve given him, warm like spring sunshine.

Despite the abruptness of the gift, he manages a small smile, nodding a little in thanks before he promptly turns to leave and finally be out of the market.

The simple yellow flower, with little else it could go, remained in his hand held to his chest as he weaved in between other market-goers. Listening for the sounds of shouting and screaming that never made it’s way to his ears. It’s not like you would remember. It’s not like you would even know.

Technically speaking, he didn’t have to keep it. Honestly, it’s probably nothing more than a ploy to get him to return and actually buy something from your shop, and it’s not like you’d remember him to ask what he’s done with the flower. Not like he could do anything with it anyways. Unlike Asra’s gift, it’s impractical, and Muriel finds himself wondering what you even expected him to do with it.

His fingers trail along the velveteen petals as he walks, appreciating the faint but pleasant smell that sits at the flower’s center. Whatever beauty he finds in it now is fleeting. It won’t last very long, especially since he has no vase to put it in.

It’s just a flower. He has no obligation to keep it.

It’s not like you would remember anyways.

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Shrugging the basket off his shoulders, Muriel makes quick work of putting away the items he’s bought. The bread flour gets tucked into the bottom shelf of the alcove of food he keeps in the house, and the fruits go in a bowl a little higher than that. Finally the bread is placed and covered in it’s own little box. Inanna runs around him welcoming home as he trundles around setting everything into it’s place, tail wagging like a dog. Even as she jumps up on her hind legs to greet him, she's just as careful as he is not to bump into his table, lest the cup at it’s center fall over and spill the yellow tulip it cradles onto the floor.

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Muriel returned to the market a bitter few days later. The basket had made him eager on his last trip, urging him to get everything done and over with so he wouldn't have to be there long, but he had forgotten that the chicken feed needed some extra restocking with the rain season lurking just around the corner. Muriel wasn't technically responsible for Bok-Bok and her friends. They could easily care for themselves as they, and all other chickens scattered in the forest, have been doing long before he had arrived. As a neighbor who occasionally borrowed eggs, however, Muriel had an obligation to lend a helping hand, and he knew full well how difficult the rainy season made it to find berries and seeds. There were of course plenty of worms, but robins and crows were quick to snatch those things up and some days there was just too much water for even the worms to enjoy. In those moments Bok-Bok and company would really need his help, and he was not about to let them down.

He hauls two bags of chicken feed in his basket, the bite of the straps onto his shoulders almost as bad as the bite of the cost into his limited pouch of coins. Technically he’d only really need one bag, but seeing as chicken feed was edible, Muriel was hoping to use at least some of it for his own meal within the coming days. There’d still be plenty for Bok-Bok and the others, but this would make things easier on him for a while as well.

The feed shifts side to side with every step he takes, the shift in weight feels almost hypnotizing, as he walks. It’s an imperfect distraction from the typical sounds and smells and feeling of the marketplace, but it’s a distraction nonetheless. People continue to press against him, and he feels the grains shift to his left. People continue to chatter and talk, the sound of it layered thickly over the sound of crashes and movement and moving creaky objects, and he feels the grains of the bag shift to his right. That awful smell of medicine entwined with fresh bread and he feels—

“Hey!! You!!”

Muriel freezes in place. When his head snaps to the sound of the scream, the rest of his body is already preparing to run away. And yet, when he sees that familiar face—your familiar face—he finds himself unable to move

For the second time within the few weeks he’s been here, he meets your eyes, and your own grow wide.

As if you recognized him.

Just as quickly it appears, it vanishes and you continue to yell.

“Watch your step!” you yell and point to a little spool of ribbon, sitting just where he would have stepped.

Muriel allows himself to relax, following your gaze downwards, taking a step backwards rather than forwards to find a spool of golden ribbon, lined with green that sat just beneath his feet. He’s about to apologize for almost crushing it when you promptly continue.

“I’m sorry, but yeah could you get that? I don’t want someone to step on it and trip like you almost did”

He nods as he bends over, freezing momentarily to shuck off the basket on his back when he feels the grains of feed slip forward. Taking the little spool in hand, he ducks back into the little alcove where your shop resides and hands it back to you, promptly rewarded with a smile flashed his way.

His face warms at the attention, but he doesn’t find it all too bad.

“Thank you. Oh, and here! As thanks.” You pull from behind you another flower—another tulip. It’s orange this time, tinted yellow around the edges. It’s the colour of a sunset, or his warm fireplace at night—the colour of even warmer smiles.

Although he hesitates, he takes this flower as well, bringing it to his nose to drown out the smell of medicine and food swirling together unpleasantly just a few stalls down.

It works better than the rice of his basket had managed at least.

Muriel manages a nod and soft grunt as thanks, trying to avoid the bright smile on your face as he slings his basket back onto his shoulders and trundles off once more. Another flower held carefully between his fingers.

He knows he doesn’t have to take it or keep it.

He knows he still will anyways.

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Asra visits a day or two later, and grins when Muriel is unable to give them their own cup for tea, especially since it was the one cup they had purchased themself. Still, they grin, and even snicker, as if unaware of the turmoil that brews at his inability to be a good friend and give them what’s theirs. Instead, they only fuel the fire of his anxiety and coyly remark that he should get another cup for whoever had given him his tiny bouquet of flowers.

It’s only then that Muriel realizes he could have, and should have argued back.

He still tries, though he knows it’s too late for that.

“How do you know I didn’t pick them myself?”

“Because you don’t tend to pick flowers for yourself,” Asra replies easily, grinning happy and easy, with that familiar glow of mischief in their eyes. “You should make a vase for them. It’d look nice, I think.”

Muriel can feel his face grow hot as he hesitates to refute Asra’s offer, which only makes their grin grow wider and wider in reply. Eventually he sighs, and though he doesn’t make any direct confirmation or denial, Asra laughs, knowing full well what that sigh entailed.

Despite it all, Muriel found himself smiling too.

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Muriel wanders through the marketplace a mere two days since his last visit. He’s without his basket, as he has been for the last handful of times he’s been there, but the journey is still overbearing. Visiting so often within such a short amount of time was quickly giving him a painful headache, and the temptation to just buy some spiced bread or some other delicious smelling food, to drown out the worst of the busy, busy, world around him, was only trumped by the fact that he did not bring any money with him.

Lately, on his last few trips to the marketplace, he neglected to bring any coins, knowing it’d be better for him to focus on saving up for when he really needed the money. Technically he didn’t need the money that much, being fully capable of living off of the forest, but difficult times such as the upcoming rainy season was made much easier when he could just buy the things he needed. For now, however, he’s simply content to wander through the marketplace and shop for inspiration; his only payment being his time, and the need to be there in the first place.

Carving a vase is easy. It should be easy, compared to the other things he’s carved. it’s a pretty simple wooden thing practically a deeper, wider cup with a little flare at the top like a plate. That was something he could carve, but he recalled seeing other vases around the marketplace, and despite himself, curiosity got the better of him and he stopped by to look at the vases other people had made. He’s been returning pretty often much to his dismay, as he kept on realizing or remembering the design of a vase he had only glimpsed at when he returned to the hut. Not to mention how his initial design might not even work anymore.

With every visit he’s made to the marketplace, he passed by or took shelter by your little flower shop on the way back home, and every time without fail, you called out to him. Even on days where he forgot to try and stop by, where he, fully engrossed in some other thing, or the dizzying feeling of the crowd around him, you still called out to him, with some excuse or other for you to offer him a flower. Some days he got a single tulip. Other times he’s received up to three different blooms. He gets a different flower each time, and each time he has to add the flower to his rapidly filling makeshift vase. It’s no longer a cup, but a rather sorry chunk of wood with a hole down the middle and water at the bottom. So busy with his visits to the market, he hadn’t had the time to really work on it.

If he was being truthful, he had been trying to avoid the task. What could he carve that could adequately hold such pretty flowers that you’ve given him? It’s the first bouquet he’s ever received, he wants to make something fitting for your gifts.

With how consistently you give him flowers, Muriel can’t help but forget that you don’t even remember him. He can’t help but forget you don’t really even know him. Not in the way that he knows you. Even if he knows you in sporadic fragments, he still knows you more than you know him.

Perhaps it’s made him cocky. Overconfident in his understanding of you.

Perhaps that’s why he didn’t expect to see you like this.

You are the sun, radiant and bright for your flowers, providing them warmth, providing them light before you give them away to others to illuminate their day or the day of whoever is lucky enough to receive that gift.

Somehow, he never anticipated the fact that maybe the sun couldn’t always be shining.

“I AM NOT PAYING THIS MUCH FOR THIS STUPID SHIT!!!”

Eyes shift away from Muriel towards the loud argument of some overzealous self-entitled noble who failed to recognize that the world doesn’t revolve around them. Selfishly, Muriel finds relief at the distraction bathing in how for once, in the crowd he was not the spectacle to be stared at instead it was—

Oh.

You stand under the barrage of cruelty raised against you and smile. It falters, it twists, but you do your best to maintain your smile, to appease your audience, someone who clearly did not deserve your grace.

“With the amount of money you had outlined—”

“YOU ARE LITERALLY JUST PICKING FLOWERS—CHILDREN COULD DO THAT!! WHY SHOULD I PAY SO MUCH FOR SOME DAISES YOU PICKED?!”

The stranger’s hand slammed on the small windowsill that you usually leaned on rattling the worn material below it. Bees and butterflies fled from their refuge in your flowers and even some weaker flowers toppled over under the stress. Even if he could not see it for himself, Muriel could tell you were trembling, every flower that so much as brushed against you vibrated in place, your fear bleeding into them, as you tried your best to smile despite it all.

If not for the flowers, he’d believe it too.

“WERE YOU NOT LISTENING WHEN I TOLD YOU THAT THESE WERE FOR AN IMPORTANT EVENT?!? YOU SHOULD BE GRATEFUL THAT I’M EVEN BUYING FROM YOUR PATHETIC LITTLE SHOP!!! IF YOU DON’T GIVE ME SOME BETTER FLOWERS I WILL—”

It’s hard to tell what compels him more, the barely restrained discomfort that you radiate, or the bitter anger that only rises with every wretched word that comes out from the noble’s poor excuse for a mouth. If he were a better person, perhaps he’d go to you first, but just like with any fight, it was foolish of him to assume violence was something he could simply stop doing.

It always came back to him one way or another.

He strode, unthinkingly with every intention to just get rid of the unpleasant nobleman. Whether he was going to punch them, shove them aside and away from you, or simply pick them up and throw them into the nearest canal, Muriel would never know, because thankfully the noble was more cowardly than they had seemed.

All it took was for him to stand behind them, his shadow swallowing them whole as he glared them down before they were scrambling backwards and sputtering threats about money and guards. A hard threat to follow through on considering the stranger won’t even remember him the next day.

He’s tempted to follow the noble as they run. Tempted to chase them down and force them to never do it again. To show them how strong they really were in the face of a cruel world. Greedy wretches like them wouldn’t survive a day in the coliseum.

But would he really be able to stomach dragging them there?

Red flickers in the corner of his eyes, and Muriel instinctively turns, bracing for the sight of blood. Instead he finds flowers, and you flinching with wide terrified eyes, and a smile barely there on your twisted lips.

“Hello,” you say, flatly, only loosely coloured with a false cheer, just barely covering your trembling voice.

“…Hi.” He manages to mutter back. “Are you…okay?”

You relax a little, no longer afraid, but a look of hurt still lingers in your expression, and Muriel doesn’t know if or how he should try to help. Still, you manage to nod, and smile, however sad it may be.

“I’m fine,” you sigh in a way that always preludes a “but”. “It’s just that, he still didn’t pay for the bouquet.”

You gesture to the bundle of flowers a beautiful splash of red all clustered beautifully together. There are a litany of different shades of red and even a few other colours amidst the bunch, each complimenting the other, looking much less like the chaotic spatter that he still had at home. He could see roses amidst the bunch, de-thorned and coloured in hues he’s never seen before. Taller more spindly flowers sit amidst the bunch as well, though he’s unable to tell them by their names unsure if they are true in colour or made to look similar to the rest through whatever magic you were using.

Despite it’s beauty, you glare at it, as if you hoped it could shrivel up and die.

“I used so many flowers for that thing, what am I supposed to do with it now?” another grumble escapes you, sounding almost like a bitter growl. He flinches when you grab a flower and it’s pot, something set out as a display, and snatch it into the confines of your shop. He almost expects to hear the pot shatter, but your hands snap back out to grab another without so much of a whisper of the first pot being set down.

“Don’t you give some of your flowers out for free?” Muriel blurts out, regretting the question as soon as he asked it. Did it sound suspicious? Insulting?

“Those are special situations,” you snap back. “Besides, I do NOT give full bouquets out for free. That shit is expensive you know?! I put a lot of time and effort into them!”

Muriel nods, but he doesn’t think you see, as you carefully yank another bundle of flowers back into your shop, angry footsteps making the remaining blooms tremble from the force of it.

“I put all my hard time and effort growing these flowers! Contrary to popular belief I am NOT just running around in a meadow, picking out little flowers to take back home and sell for cheap! I grow these things myself! I colour them! I mix them together! I’m not some nobleman with access to flower farms and flower farmers!!”

Muriel busies himself by picking up the flowers you have further out for display, and bringing them back towards your shop. He doesn’t know where the door is, burred under flowers and greenery somewhere, but he tucks the display into the nook where he had hid many times before, keeping the flowers from prying eyes and greedy hands.

It’s the only thing keeping him in place really. As you continue to stomp back and forth in your shop, ranting about rich customers trying to cheat their way out of paying for your flowers. Even if he knows it’s not directed his way, Muriel can’t help but feel a growing sense of guilt.

He did that too. He’s doing that right now.

You don’t remember it, and to you it probably seems like you’ve been giving various different strangers tulips, but he has a bouquet of them now—one even bigger than that noble failed to pay for.

He carefully tucks the last of the flower displays away, carefully arranging the flowers so that none stick out and reveal their location to onlookers, and prepares to run away, internally promising to never return and never steal flowers from you again.

What he intends as a final glance your way, hoping to leave while your back is turned, roots him in place instead.

You stand, hands over your eyes, furiously scrubbing as you try to both hide and stop your tears. Torn between running to help you and running away, Muriel stands and stares, as useless to help as the flowers that still surround you.

“I just… fuck,” you hiss, or at least you try to around the hiccups of your sobbing. “It’s just so hard. They demand money from me and then refuse to pay me for my hard fuckng work! What do they even get out of hoarding that much money?”

Why can’t he decide? The choice to help you is as obvious as it was when you were being threatened by the nobleman earlier. And yet, when faced with a problem that he can’t solve with violence he’s stuck.

It really is all he’s good for isn’t it?

You duck behind your window to hide your tears, but he can hear your back hit the wall and the hiss of fabric against stone as you slide down to your knees and succumb to sniffles and sobs.

With little else to say or do, Muriel turns and runs away.

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A moment of terror pulls you from your sorrow as you remember the flower stands you left outside the shop. You’ve already lost a lot of time and effort on the bouquet for the noble who never paid, you can’t afford to loose your display flowers as well.

About to bolt out from the shop to look for them, you glance to the shops beside you wondering if your neighbors decided to be cruel, or if you could see the escaping thief. Instead, you find your flower stands tucked away in a little alcove between your shop and one of the neighboring booths beside it. The flowers are carefully tucked beneath each other, to keep from springing up over the other shop’s crates, and remain hidden from any potential thieves.

It’s not anything grand enough to make you reconsider opening the shop back up for the day, nor does it quell the roll of anxiety in your chest, but it’s enough to make you smile again. Even if only a little.

It takes you a moment to recall that a stranger had been here only moments ago after the departure of the nobleman, but beyond their presence you can’t recall anything about them. You know they helped a little, but the how or why evades you.

Instead you return to work tucking your flowers away inside, before you finally close shop and head back to your garden.

You can’t recall what the stranger’s face looks like, but the fleeting memory of them still lingers in your mind. They remind you, strangely, of tulips.

Perhaps you could give them one next time you saw them. Hopefully you’d recognize them in the crowd.

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Muriel’s fingers sift through the flowers that sit in his little wooden makeshift vase. In a better world he’d be able to give back all the flowers he had taken from you—stolen from you—and you would be able to sell your flowers to people who could pay for and better deserved the beautiful blooms. Instead, Muriel finds many of the flowers already starting to wilt in the vase, petals growing crumpled and stems growing weak. The first flower you had given him was a husk of it’s former beauty.

He shouldn’t have gotten it in the first place. That fleeting beauty would have been better spent on someone better than him. Someone who could appreciate it better with a crystal vase—or even a simple painted clay vase to carry the flowers and show off how pretty they were.

Or just…someone with more money than him. Someone who could actually pay you for your flowers.

Someone…. Someone who would deserve them.

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Once more, Muriel makes his journey into the market, the dizzying smells and feelings and noises made all the more worse by the burden of his objective. Two pouches sat in his pockets both burning through fabric and skin to scorch him to his bones. Every passing jostle against his body had him scrambling to check if both bags were still there, panic flooding him when he forgot that he had moved one of the bags from one pocket to another.

Over and over again scenarios flashed through his mind. He tried to keep himself reasonable, tried to expect the worst so he wouldn’t be disappointed, but hope—ever stubborn, and ever cruel—slipped in regardless of his wishes. He hoped that you’d still like him afterwards, that you wouldn’t ask him to pay for all the flowers he had taken from you, that you’d be happy to be able to remember him, but the truth of the matter was, that he was just another customer. All he had been receiving was a placating smile in hopes that he’d buy from you.

If only he could hate you for that. It’d be so much easier if he could let himself feel like he had been cheated, or wronged, but you were just trying to make money for yourself, just like everyone else. Could he condemn you for that?

The sickening smell of some strong smelling meal with pungent medicine fills his chest once more, and the once familiar need to vomit at the smell grows stronger knowing your shop is only a little further away. His hands gravitate towards the two pouches in his pockets and he squeezes them, hoping that for once the universe would be kind to him and he wouldn’t make some awful mistake like mix them up and give you the wrong bag too soon.

With every step closer he gets to your shop, Muriel recites in his mind what he wants to tell you, his apology for what he’s done and his willingness to not bother you again.

Someone else is already shopping at your booth. Muriel watches from nearby, trying to remember what he needs to tell you while he waits his turn.

“If you don’t mind, I need a few flowers, not too many…”

He just needed to tell you that he was willing to leave you be.

“How many flowers will that be? Oh, and what kind?”

No, no, he needed to apologize first for taking all of your flowers.

“Any kind will do. I just need them for a… friend of mine. They’re ill, and I... I made a promise to them.”

He’d need to explain what had happened as well. Explain how he kept receiving flowers from you, and explain how he’d need to pay for it.

“Oh, I hope they’ll be okay soon, how about this?”

“Oh that looks gorgeous!”

He’d need to tell you about that magic, that kept others from remembering him, and he’d need to….

“…oh, I can’t… I’m sorry, I can’t pay that much.”

“…how much can you pay?”

Muriel watches the old man place a few coins onto the table. It really isn’t much, but telling by the clothes he wears and the stains that litter them, it’s clear that he’s been trying to save up for this. Your own eyes, grow dim at the sight of the meager amount he brings. Would it even pay for a few flowers? Would it even pay for a single flower?

Your eyes flutter closed and your hands grip the flowers as if you were going to yell at the old man, but you’re trembling as well, fighting against something before you look back up and smile.

No. No, no. You can’t be thinking—gossip travels fast in the marketplace, even faster when it’s something of concern or interest to a noble. If that person gets word that you’re giving out free flowers after that stunt you pulled yesterday…

“Alright. Take it.”

…What will happen to you?

“No—wait.” Muriel steps in, his own coin pouch in his trembling hands. “that…how much does that cost?”

It’s a smaller bouquet than what you’ve given him over his many many visits, but he still winces as you take the money. He’s now the one without enough funds to pay you back for your flowers. He’s now the one marring your reputation—making it seem like your prices are something fickle, that someone could just get a bouquet of tulips for free if they looked sad or sorry enough.

Was that why he had gotten all those flowers? You did say some were to brighten his day. Did he truly look so miserable?

The old man smiles up at him, and thanks him profusely as he leaves with his flowers. Muriel manages a smile, but a nagging feeling at the back of his head tells him it looks more like a grimace. When he turns back to look at you, you meet his half-smile half grimace with one of your own.

“Thank you so, so much for that—but you didn’t have to.”

“But yesterday—I saw—heard—” Muriel coughs, fighting the rising warmth in his face. “I heard about that… customer…yesterday. I just.... Are you okay?”

“I’m fine.” You smile, eyes falling closed as you recall something before you look up to him. “Yesterday, a kind stranger stepped in to protect me. It was…really sweet.”

Muriel forces himself to turn away from your fond expression. For all the preparation that he put in anticipating what he should do when you hate him, he never prepared for what he should do if you liked him.

While your attention is diverted, Muriel begins his attempt to scurry away from the situation before it grows too awkward, but not for the first time, you call out to him, stopping him dead in his tracks.

“Before you go!” Once more he stops and turns. He knows his face is flushed, he know he looks ridiculous, but he turns out of habit to the sound of your voice, like a sunflower to the sun. “—here. Just as thanks.”

Muriel stares at the flower you give him his mind flying back to a small cell beneath a roaring crowd. A rose coloured tulip, the likes of which he’s never seen before, sits in his palm as another gift from you. He’s never seen a tulip this red before. Brighter than the colour of blood.

He tries to hand it back, but your hands sit atop of his and push back, insistent on giving your gift.

You smile when you tell him, “Please, it’s a gift.” But he feels nothing but dread.

Another flower stolen, another bloom he can no longer afford to pay for.

He does not deserve flowers.

He certainly did not deserve yours.

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Muriel doesn’t return to the market. He doesn’t—won’t—need to for a while. The basket Asra had given him really lived up to it’s practical uses. He savors the fresh cool air of the forest, untainted by headache-inducing smoke billowing from medicine shops or blacksmiths or bakeries of sleepy bakers. The hiss and hush of the trees, sounds soothing to his ears rather than the cacophony of chatter, of yelling and demanding from sellers and buyers.

He feels alive and safe in the forest.

At least, more than he had felt when he was in the city—when he was just a child.

A lifetime of struggling for money and food and running from guards called by over zealous nobles was not something that he expected would every leave him. In the same way the blood may never wash from his hands, the dirt and disgust he carried for being one of many strays in the South End would never leave him either. It’s something he could live with though. Something he could endure within the safety of the forest.

…He just never thought he’d be the one causing someone to struggle the way he did.

It’s not the same. He knows that it’s not the same. You have a shop that you are able to maintain—a viable way to make money. With all your flowers, you probably had a garden, you probably had the ability to grow fruits and vegetables that you could eat and rely on when times got tough. And most of all, you are an adult. You can fend for yourself, act for yourself. You don’t need help the way a child does. You can survive.

…but sometimes just surviving just made things worse.

He just made things worse.

What if you were struggling for food? What if you wouldn’t be able to maintain that shop for much longer? What if all those flowers you gave him were what lead that noble to think it was okay to get flowers from you for cheap?

Even if he couldn’t be remembered perhaps people remembered seeing you give flowers away for free to someone over and over again. A free flower every now and then would hardly be anything bad but Muriel had enough to consider it a bouquet.

He had to pay you back.

It might take some time, but hopefully his carvings were appraised better than they were when he was a child. Hopefully more people liked them. Hopefully he could make enough money to pay you back soon.

Wooden animals sit between Muriel’s legs as he carved away at another figurine from a block of wood. It was a little sloppy, as was the other figures, but seeing as he needed to make back the funds at least somewhat quickly, he needed a lot of figures in a short amount of time.

The knife slipped against the wood, and cut into his hand. Deep enough to draw blood, but not deep enough to garner worrry. Not for his hand at least. Blood stained the wood he carved, tainting the wooden flower with a bloody patch of red, soaking into the wood.

Muriel sighed, as the blood seeped deeper and deeper into the pale wood. Knowing he wouldn’t be able to carve the stain away to salvage the flower, he set it aside, and wiped the blood from his hand, and started again against a new block of wood.

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For all Muriel had planned and worried the location and use of a stall was not one of the things he had considered. The market was filled with vendors all squished against each other in an attempt to sell wares. Any of his old places for selling things as a child were either filled by new children, hawking trinkets and other odds and ends, or far too small for him to fit in and comfortably sell from now.

He tried to wander through the busier parts of the market, even amidst the crash and chatter of people around him, but earlier vendors had beat him to the stalls, and no one was willing to spare any space.

Eventually, though he tried to avoid it, he came down to your side of the market, where there were just a little less shops than before. Even here however there was no space that he could take that wasn’t a crushing squish against two other shops.

The familiarly grating smell of medicine and baked goods wafted past him and instinctually he glanced your way, even if he hoped not to see you and gain another flower he needed to pay back.

Only, you weren’t there at all.

Where there was once a little window surrounded on all sides by flowers that seemed to burst out from the room within, there was instead, a green door. Upon closer inspection a thin line divided the door in half so the top could be opened or the bottom could be opened, and he realized that this had been the window you once leaned out from to sell your flowers.

And now, flowerless it had been closed.

What happened to you? Did the noble come around and confiscate all your flowers for some crime you didn’t commit? Had he been too late to help you? Too late to fix his mistakes?

He didn’t know how long he had spent staring at the blank walls, taking in all the imperfections he had never seen and never wanted to see before, but it was long enough, that someone inevitably noticed him.

“Hello?”

Muriel nearly leapt up from his place and ran, if not for the person he turned to see.

Still smudged with dirt, with flower petals and leaves caught in your clothes, you stood before him, smiling but confused.

“I’m sorry, did you want something from the shop?”

The bag of coins burns in his pockets, both too heavy and too light for him to hold. He scrambles for an explanation, something feasible to explain away the situation, and allow him to go on his way once more, but his mouth dries with every attempt, and the urge to confess his crimes and get it over with builds high in his chest.

In the end, he abandons his words and shakes his head instead.

With an even more confused look on your face, you shake your head almost dismissively, but a smile still lingers on your lips. It reaches your eyes too, drawing lines across your face from the force of it all. He tries to convince himself that it’s genuine, but the doubt is hard to remove once planted.

After all, you always smile to your customers, even if they don’t deserve it.

“What are you doing here then?”

“I… Just…I’m passing by,” he manages, watching as your smile shifts for a moment. It softens, but it never leaves your face.

“Oh. Where are you off to?”

He glanced away, tempted to just give some non commital answer and just leave before you could ask something else, but he catches sight of your empty shop once more and finds his feet rooted in place.

“I…. I was looking for a space to set up a temporary shop.”

“Oh! What are you selling?”

Since it’d be easier than trying to explain, Muriel reaches into his basket, pushing aside the blanket covers to protect against the sun and the wooden support beams he was planning to use to hold the blanket up, to reveal the wooden carvings that sat beneath it all. He grabs the first one he feels pulling it free and offering it for your inspection.

“Oh! That’s so pretty!” He looks at it in your hands now, one of the flowers he had carved from wood. It’s no tulip, but he’s glad you seem to like it at the very least.

“You can keep it if you want.”

“Really?” you ask, your voice wrung with awe sounding almost almost breathless to his ears.

Despite knowing he wouldn’t be able to tell if you were actually pleased or just smiling, Muriel glances your way, finding that soft smile once more on your lips, as your fingers carefully trace around the center of the flower. He turns away from the sight of it.

“Sure.”

“Oh, hey, in exchange, how about…” Muriel braces himself for the flower you’d always give him. No matter how pretty or soft it’s petals looked he would not accept. He couldn’t, knowing that he’d have to add another flower considering how much he’d need to pay for it.

Instead, you gesture to the shop, and smile.

“Here! You said you wanted to look for a stall to sell your things at, you can use my shop.”

And though Muriel knows full well what your shop looks like, for the first time today he turns and actually looks.

Between two stalls sits the little window, where you once leaned out and smiled at him as he passed. Except, with it’s top “shutter” closed, he could now see it was a door, sitting listlessly against the off-white walls. Around it, where flowers once bloomed, cracks in the stone are so abundantly clear. Exposed for all to see without flowers covering the cracks. Sitting lifeless, colourless, and empty, he little shop seemed even smaller, crowded out by other people’s boxes. A hollow husk of what it had been before.

Or, perhaps it was hollow because you weren’t there anymore.

For all the questions he wanted to ask, all the distress and apologies he wanted to offer, all Muriel can stomach to ask, is a pathetic, strangled, “why?”

Why weren’t you using your shop anymore? Why did you remove all your flowers as if you were just moving out? Why were you letting him use that shop?

Why, even when you couldn’t remember him, did you still trust him?

Why were you kind to him?

Why—

Muriel turns to the sound before you do, the heavy footsteps of armored soldiers marching with that distinct rattle of their shiny armor that only ever meant they were here on purpose, rather than just on patrol.

You catch sight of them a moment later, the same time that they catch sight of you.

And all Muriel can do is stare.

It’s funny really, how, in the past it had almost been second nature for him to run and hide at the sound of clanking armor, grabbing any other children he’d see who had yet to notice lest they get taken by the soldiers seeking to “clean up” the marketplace. But maybe it was all that time he had to spend trying not to flinch and run from the soldiers in the coliseum lest the taunt and tease him while he was helpless to do anything else, or maybe it was the safety net that his gift provided, knowing they could never come for him.

It doesn’t matter anyways. He’s rooted to the ground, helpless to do anything to help you.

A familiar face grins behind their armored friends, looking as pleased as they looked punchable, as if tattling to the soldiers about whatever offense you didn’t commit was something they could be proud of doing. As if they weren’t just some massive coward hiding behind armor and gold.

As if they were really in the right.

He’d scowl if he could manage, but he feels far away from his body, bracing for cold impact of armored hands against mere flesh. Ready to drag him away somewhere cold and dark and alone. Ready to drag him back to the arena.

Instead, the hand that finds him is warm.

Warm fingers thread themselves between his, and suddenly he’s being pulled through the marketplace, just barely able to grab his bag before he’s running between stalls and down alleyways, as the soldiers clamor and shout clumsily crashing through booths and debris in their pursuit.

The both of you are fast, but the soldiers, trained as they are, are faster, and grow closer and closer as you stumble on each other’s feet trying to stick together. You seem to have a destination in mind, but running home with these soldiers on your tail is never, ever a good idea. You seem to know this, but you don’t seem to know how to loose them.

Muriel on the other hand does.

All it takes is a few strides and a squeeze of your hand before Muriel is leading you through the streets, diving down alleyways, and between shops and their carts, before he shoves you into a small dip between two buildings, crowded with boxes and goods from the stalls that sat on either side, and his basket set in front of him for good measure. The two shopkeepers glared his way, frustrated at his strange intrusion, but they fail to notice that he had someone with him, as they often do if that other person is hidden quickly enough. Though their eyes on him makes his skin prickle, they slide off as easily as water on oil, and soon they return to their own business, forgetting that Muriel had ever even existed as their attention drifts away, and they return to attending to their wares.

The crash of soldiers is audible in the distance, and behind him, hands pressed to his back, Muriel can feel you grow tense. Your hands ball up into fists on his cloak, and you press your face into his back as if it may be able to better help you hide from them. It lets him feel you breathe, trying to keep it slow, and deep, trying to relax yourself, but the tremors remain. It makes him want to hold you, take your hand in his to reassure you, tell you that everything will be okay, but when he still trembles at the growing sound of iron on stone and wood, all he can do is stand still and quiet, hoping to all hope that the shopkeepers beside him would not note his presence and, that what little magic he has won’t fail him,

Above all, if everything else fails, he hopes you remain safe.

Their armor glistens in the sunlight, blindingly bright, a distraction and protection he’s fallen victim to many times before. One turns his way, meeting his eyes, and for a moment, Muriel loses his breath. Behind him you tense as well, as if his tension passed onto you. As if you could somehow see through him, and met the guard’s eyes.

He wonders if you had poked your head out from behind him, wonders if the guard had somehow seen you—a scrap of your clothes perhaps, or some sliver of your skin. He hopes to all hope that you had not done so, but he tries to puff up his chest despite it all, use the width of his shoulders to truly make sure you were covered.

And no matter how much he wants to do otherwise, Muriel keeps his eyes open, and stares down not only the guard before him, but also the group behind him, watching and waiting for that moment of recognition, the moment when the guards eyes stopped slipping away, the moment when he’d have to shove the soldier away to let you escape.

To make sure no one was dragged to the coliseum again.

Someone yells behind the guard, loud and abrasive, and Muriel has to keep himself from flinching at the sound. For another moment the guard lingers, eyes still scanning the area, where Muriel stood, as if he wasn’t there at all, for a mere second perhaps, before they turn away eyes still slipping off of Muriel like water against oil. The soldiers continue on hollering and barking as they chase shadows down the street. It’s only when they fade out from earshot that Muriel finally relaxes, and behind him, he can feel you do the same.

It’s an awkward little shuffle around when he steps away to let you escape your confines. Your hand doesn’t quite leave his back so readily, trailing down before falling away, leaving phantom trails of pressure and warmth still lingering on his skin, even if you never actually touched him directly. He tries to distract himself amidst it, focus on getting his basket back on his back. Focus on the possibility of another patrol of soldiers passing by. He doesn’t notice that you had been waving for his attention until you fingers slip beneath the belts across his chest and you yank.

“Thank you,” you whisper-hiss, freeing his belt to capture his hand instead. “C’mon, follow me. I know a safe place we could lay low for awhile.

Your hand is warm in his. Sweaty from running, but warm, with callouses marking the inside of your knuckles. Your rough hands against his own, and yet cradling his carefully with your touch. In his earlier haste he didn’t get the chance to notice that.

You tug, he follows.

–––––––––✿・✿・✿–––––––––

For all that he’s known you, for all the times he’s visited, all he’s ever seen from you were smiles that bent your eyes with it’s fondness, soft as the flowers that surrounded you and vibrant as the sun that fed them.

But that hardly counted as knowing a person.

For all you had forgotten of him, he never really got to know you.

The city grows more glittery and sharp as you tug him towards the decrepit opulence of the flooded district, right along the edge of the temple district where old temples sat in ruin, flooded with water that bent their floorboards and made space frigid during the night. Yet those flaws hardly stopped children from scurrying into the upper levels through windows, standing in the frigid dust laden rooms, and pretending they had a better life.

He remembers doing the same himself, with vivid fondness, trying and failing to climb up the side of the building after soldiers broke all the available climbing structures, that could support his weight. Asra managed on the tiny ledges, and weak remains, but Muriel and many other children struggled to do the same.

Thick walls of ivy, and even a small tree grows there now, the ground having been cleared of tiles to make space for dirt and mud to allow for the growth.

He turns his attention back to you, as you continue to pull him past buildings, littered with new blooms that climbed the walls.

For all that you had forgotten of him, Muriel barely knew you.

–––––––––✿・✿・✿–––––––––

You stop before a fence that looms even above him, coated in greenery, with sharp, rusted metal spikes that jut out from the top of the bushes.

He can see thorns entwined with the green shrubbery, thin and clustered together to make it hard to avoid getting scratched or hurt by any attempt to climb up it, which perhaps, is why it was an area that seemed so abandoned. Unlike the well-maintained gardens of many nobles, what could a trespasser hope to find behind a fence so clearly bursting with nothing but plain shrubs and wayward thorns?

You, clearly, believed otherwise.

Muriel can’t help but wince when you jam your hand into the mess of thorns and bushes, rummaging around the plants in search for something within. He’s tempted to pull your arm out and try to get you to wear something to protect yourself, but you beat him to it, pulling back for a moment to reveal an untouched arm before you reach back in with more intent and care than you did before.

Something creaks, and the wall of ivy and bushes, reveals itself to be thinner than the foliage initially let on.

He doesn’t even need to slip through the greenery as you do to already glimpse the world within, but he does anyways, treating himself to the true magnificence of your domain. Hidden by plants and trees and bushes and thorns sits a world of flowers blooming en masse until they cover nearly every inch of the ground around it, some even spilling out from their designated places to uproot the stone tiles that made up the slim walkways between the spill of flowers.

Most strikingly, Muriel can see the tulips that line the far end of the garden, a splash of sporadic colours all clumped together in a mad swirl, spilling out from their allotted section to infiltrate pathways and the beds of their neighbors.

And amidst them, finally looking at ease, you stand, turning back to him with a smile.

“I’m sorry about that, but… we’ll be safer here for now.”

You close the door, with a gentle thud, and brush the roses around it back into place, slipping a rust-browned lock back into place, and locking the world outside far, far away.

Perhaps he should be worried that you had essentially locked the both of you inside here together, but despite being overcrowded with flowers, the garden seems so expansive he can hardly see it as being locked inside anything.

“Feel free to look around” you tell him. “Just… don’t pick anything, please.”

You flash him a smile, and as quickly as you had astounded him with the beauty of your garden, you turn away snapping your attention back to your flowers, and give him space to marvel in awe at your beautiful garden—to marvel in awe at your beautiful practice. Setting his basket aside, he watches as you crouch down, and procure a pair of shears from beneath a bush, and begin to snip away at the overgrown and wilted plants. The sun shines a halo around you as you hunch over plots of dirt, shuffling your way into the plants, and trying to pry flowers away from each other, to generate distance so one doesn’t starve the other.

It’s hard work, quick to smear you with dirt and mud, but he can see the tension fade from your back as you toil away, a means of relaxing yourself from the tension.

Though questions swirl around his stomach and chest, Muriel decides to give you your space. It’s the least he can do after all.

He wanders, carefully, between the patches of flowers, many intermingled with each other into beautiful messy arrays, some even curling around each other, to enough of an extent, that Muriel supposed you couldn’t separate them anymore. Of course, slow growing as flowers often were, Muriel wondered if you failed to notice how close they had gotten, or you simply allowed them to grow so close to each other.

He approaches your tulip patch. You have so many. Found in nearly every colour, with different patterns on the petals, and different shapes of petals themselves, all crowded into one large plot—and when that plot could not fit any more flowers, you intermingled the tulips amidst other plants, amidst other flowers that seemed to get along well with the shoots of colour.

Although he has never seen the foreign shaped and patterned flowers before, Muriel can’t help but note the abundance of red, orange, pink, and yellow tulips in your garden. A favourite, perhaps? Or perhaps they were in high demand, or perhaps they were just—

“They used to be my parents' favourite.” He turns to look at you, dirt smeared with leaves sticking to the fabric of your clothes. You turn to him and smile. “They liked to give them to each other, as a way to show how much they cared about each other.”

Something in Muriel’s chest flutters. Something else constricts. He really shouldn’t be hearing this—you don’t remember him, you don’t remember what you’ve done.

“I tend to give them out to my favourite customers as well.” Muriel scrambles for his bag. He shouldn’t be hearing this should he? No matter how much he wants to… he shouldn’t. It’s not fair to you. You don’t remember him, you might not even be harboring those kinds of feelings.

After all didn’t you say the flowers were supposed to just... cheer him up?

“Hey, do you want—” Muriel just barely manages to shove the bag into your hands, pressing further to get the bag closer to your face.

The sooner you remember the sooner you can kick him from your garden and be on your merry way, even though his stomach grows tight at the very idea of it. Your garden is beautiful. If he could stay here, or even just visit every so often he would be glad.

As it is, just seeing you smile was enough for him.

Just seeing you smile had been enough for him, but he’s taken too much from you, and he refused to take any more.

It takes you a moment, flustered as you try to protest the strange gift he’s given you, but the memories come soon enough, and rather than push, he finds you grabbing—not only the bag, but his hand as well—and pulling it closer to your face, to take a deep breath, and savor the memories.

It only lasts so long.

You stare at him now, eyes wide and mortified before your hands snap to your face trying and failing to hide you as you still cling to the bag of myrrh he had given you. Muriel closes his eyes and looks away, not wanting to see your enraged or sorrow filled face when you claimed you had been cheated or swindled of your precious, precious flowers.

Instead he hears you giggle.

It’s a nervous sort of giggle, the kind made when someone’s not actually happy, echoing in the hollow cup of your hand as you sink to the floor.

“Oh my gods. Oh gods.” The words slip between your fingers as you adjust and readjust your hands to hide your face. “Oh my gods I am so sorry.”

“What?”

“I gave you, so many flowers…”

The comment sounds like regret—that you regretted wasting so many flowers on him, but your voice doesn’t sound sad, you just sound… embarrassed.

“I am so sorry…”

“W-what?? What for?”

“Isn’t it embarrassing? I keep giving you flowers!” Your volume picks up, and though he doesn’t intend it, his own voice gets a little higher and a little louder in reply.

“Is that bad??” He really can’t focus on his volume when he’s trying to sort out all the questions you are not answering.

“ITS EMBARRASSING!”

“HOW?!”

You groan, half stifled and half agonized before you bury your face back into your knees, leaving Muriel’s mouth to snap shut with a soft clack, gritting his teeth as he silently vows to never open his mouth again—or at least refrain from doing so for a long while. He was too loud. Too close to yelling. He doesn’t blame you for being afraid.

He’s about to apologize, whisper something placating to fix his wrongdoings, but once again, you speak before he can even get a word in.

Or well, you don’t speak. You laugh.

It’s almost a mad cackle. Almost. If you didn’t peer up for a moment, looking so genuinely happy and pleased, he would have thought you had gone insane.

You’re breathless when your laughter bubbles down into hicuups and giggles, leaning your head on your arms as you peer up at him. Of course, he’s too tall for you to look without craning your neck, and that’s so much worse when you’re sitting down. He sits beside you in an attempt to keep your neck from aching, but that only seems to make you giggle more.

“So, how much to I have to explain?” You ask your question teasingly, but Muriel can’t help but notice the strain of sincerity or the way you shake ever so slightly as if scared. You’re still grinning, but he can’t help but take you seriously.

“It…. You spend so much time on your flowers…. Don’t you need the money?”

His question sobers you considerably, that smile falling away from your face. Again, he’s the one who has to tear that from you, who makes you frown instead of smile.

“I can afford to lose a few tulips.”

“It’s not a few.”

You huff, turning away from him, and again, he worries that he’s made you upset. “It’s fine. I have a lot of those ones anyways. Besides, it’s not like I give them out to everyone.”

“You don’t?”

“Nope.”

“What about that old man? You wanted to give those flowers to him for free…”

You roll your eyes, and shake your head a picture of exhaustion, if not for your smile. “Yeah, well, he’s a pretty common customer, and he’s a fellow merchant. I stop by his stall sometimes and I know he doesn’t always have much, but he still wants to give flowers to his friend and all that.” You turn away from him then, tucking your face back into your knees. “Besides, I wasn’t giving him tulips.”

His brows dip again, “Tulips…?”

You sigh, loud and drawn out, tucking your face deeper into your lap. “I… remember how I mentioned my parents?”

“I… I didn’t think I was supposed to hear it…”

“If not you then who?” you gawk, waving an arm to the garden that wraps itself around you. In the beat of silence that follows, the wind rustles through the flowers, and the sound of trickling water meets the melody of a birdsong. It’s so peaceful. It’s so… lonely. Another gust of wind, and though the walls sit thoroughly coated by shrubbery and plants outside, it’s far clearer to see the iron bars from within, a mere gust of wind doing enough to show the cage these flowers have been locked inside of. To show the cage that you...

“You’re the only other person here.”

“I didn’t… I thought you’d change your mind in letting me in here if you realized….”

Once more you tuck your face into your lap, and Muriel has to wonder what makes you so miserable every time he mentions it. “Why would I change my mind after remembering how many flowers I’ve given you?”

“I thought… I thought you’d think I’d stolen them.”

You scoff and roll your eyes. “I gave them to you. As a gift.”

“Would you give me them if you knew it was me returning?”

You straighten yourself, turning to him with wide eyes as if he’s said something absurd or unthinkable. He’s about to retract his statement, make an apology for whatever he’s done to offend, but you look away before he does, and though muffled, in the quiet peace of your garden, you’re loud enough for him to hear you.

“Yes.” A pause. You fiddle with a worn patch over the knees of your pants, coated in dirt, and evidence of being repaired repeatedly, it’s a well loved set of gardening clothes. Well worn. Well cared for. “If I knew it was you, I’d give you even more flowers too.”

You huff the words out as if frustrated, and Muriel can’t help but look away.

“Why?” he blurts out the question, immediately regretting it when he hears you tuck your face back into your legs. You had said it was embarrassing. He still fails to understand… how.

“You heard the story about my parents.” This time it’s not a question. With your face now tucked behind your knees and safely guarded by an arm, you wave a free hand in the air, as if expecting him to connect whatever dots remains.

As if it was as easy as that.

“You said that they did so to show how much they cared about each other.” You bury your face deeper into your lap. “But you don’t… You don’t know me.”

At this point you’ve thrown your arm over top of your head now too. Trying to fold yourself up into a little human ball. Was this what was embarrassing? That you had been showing affection to someone you’ve never met before? To someone you didn’t know? But you haven’t known each other this entire time. What made it different now?

The glows over your garden, dappling you in it’s golden warmth. There are structures in place, some tall trees intermixed with the bushes outside, but sunbeams still sneak their way to reach you, as if eager to light you up, to amend the gloom that he’s cast over you. One beam streaks across your arms, and as you peek up at him, your eye glows in the golden light, and like magic, you slowly unfold yourself, to sit normally by his side.

“I… You’re right. I’m sorry.”

That was… “You’re apologizing again.” He means to ask it as a question but it doesn’t come out like it should. Hearing it fill the silence, he wonders if that would have been worse.

“I…” again, your hands come up to cover your face, dragging over your eyes, until they’re cupped around your mouth. You’re hiding again. Embarrassed you had said, but he still can’t figure out—“Look, I’m sorry for flirting with you okay?”

Muriel chokes. You don’t seem to notice.

“You don’t have to take it as flirting at all okay? It’s just… You just looked really pretty and I just wanted to give you flowers because I thought you were nice and you helped me out so many times with all those things, you were really brave and tough and yet so kind, and, augh no, look I’m not… I know I don’t know you okay, I’m not expecting you to fall in love with me over some…silly flowers, it’s fine. I… I’m really sorry if I’ve made you uncomfortable, I’m really sorry if this is just…weird. I… look my garden is pretty much all I have! People like flowers but I understand if those were maybe just not your thing, and I know maybe roses would’ve been more fitting, but those are just so hard to take care of sometimes and they’re such an overused gift, I mean I kinda thought someone like you would end up tired of receiving those gifts all the time but that’s because I was assuming that you were interested in relationships like that and—”

You keep talking. And talking, and talking and talking. Circling back to the same statements over and over and over again in new contexts as you somehow say so much and very little at the exact same time. It’s nice though. He likes listening to you speak, even if this seems to make you more stressed out than ever, but most importantly, it gives him a moment to try to collect his own thoughts, to try to get his breathing in check. And when both attempts fail, to try and find a way to fold himself up into something tiny and unseeable.

He waits for a while, hoping that you’d trail off somewhere eventually, that he would eventually be able to interject and direct the conversation away, or just…. Ask if you were… serious…. but every glance his way seems to make you more stressed, and you burst out in another round of apologies and reassurances, and on top of it all another round of compliments, many of which keenly focused on…prettiness.

Particularly him… and… being… pretty.

He doesn’t mean to grab your wrist. Poke you maybe, but he doesn’t mean to grab.

It’s just… hard to tell when he’s trying to hide his warming face behind a hand.

There’s a long stretch of silence.

And of course, you try to amend whatever mistake you think that you’ve made. “I’m so sorry I didn’t—” he has to interrupt you this time.

“No… no… It’s…”

You’re really smart. Very, incredibly clever. Burying his face in his lap sounds more and more appealing by the minute, but as much as he wants to he can’t exactly make himself look as small as you managed beside him. Besides, he just… really wants to know.

“I… you think…. I’m….” He can’t. He just can’t. His mouth opens to try, but his throat falls dry each time. It’s a struggle to get the idea of it into his mind without growing furnace-hot at the thought alone. He is a rival to the sun, by mere heat alone.

Somehow, miraculously, you understand… or at least somewhat. “You’re kind, you’re brave… you’re pretty….” You have to look away as well, lips falling victim to the press of your teeth. “You’re pretty as flowers, really.”

Muriel could explode.

You take his embarrassment as distress, faltering and wincing as you try to amend what had never been damaged. If he could, he’d press a hand to your face to shut you up. But that would mean having to remove a hand from hiding his own face away.

“Sorry! Is that….? Is that insulting? I didn’t mean for it to be insulting like that or anything It’s just you know as a gardener and all constantly working with flowers and everything and—”

“No!” he wants to berate himself for yelling. To feel ashamed for raising his voice but the sound of it is so strangled and sounds more like a helpless yelp than anything, only really serving to make him feel more embarrassed.

It’s Embarrassing…

Have you been feeling this way the whole time?

“It’s just that…” many words want to spring their way out of his mouth all at once, and considering his tongue has yet to master the skill of saying two separate words at the same time, Muriel is just left to struggle. “I’ve never…. No one’s ever… It’s not bad it’s just….” He can’t speak. He’s as effective as if he were mute, eyes practically spinning in his skull, as he tries to look anywhere but you.

Still he manages a glance your way, and it gives him pause to find you staring intently at the ground, a little smile stuck upon your lips.

“Oh.”

You try to hide it behind your hand. And Muriel’s terrified to find his first instinct is to grab your wrist and keep you from hiding away, like some sort of greedy hypocrite. To deprive you of the chance to hide when all he would ever do—all he was ever going to do, would be the exact same thing. It’s greed isn’t it? First for your flowers, and your mild kindness towards him and now—! Now!!

What was he going to do now?!

“Do you want a flower?”

You blurt the words out, slamming your hand over your lips to hide away promptly after. You’re standing now, unable to tuck yourself back into your knees, but your hands are still a serviceable shield. It’s nothing to block the words that begin to pour from your lips, but maybe you aren’t trying to stop that. Maybe it’s just your expression. He wonders at what you look like so flustered….

How greedy.

“I mean It’s just—I don’t know if you want something other than a tulip—I’ve given you so many tulips—I haven’t even asked you about your favourite flower! You know! So I just thought! Just— Any flower you want!! Just one!!”

You scurry off somewhere, possibly off to tend to your flowers for something, trying to busy your hands, or just to get away from him. He understands both sentiments very well as his hands tangle themselves together twisting and pulling as he wearily gets up and looks around your pocket of paradise once more.

He doesn’t really want to take any of your flowers. At least… not pluck them straight off of the ground.

The tulip beds overflow with flowers, and like a moth about to be burnt by the flame he wanders towards it, unable to bite back his urges when he plucks a flower from it’s place.

It’s not something he wants it’s just…

It’s stupid….. But……

You return with an armful of various flowers, small simple little things, that fill your arms and get tangled in your clothes, some even worming your way to sit around your shoulders like little faeries peering over at him.

And you offer all that hasn’t attached itself to you, to him.

You don’t even speak, you just shove it all into his arms, like some last ditch effort for… something. As if this was a last ditch effort at all.

The flowers just barely all fit into the crook of his arm, and he’s grateful for once, for being so large. That he can hold so much in one arm alone, as it leaves his other arm free to offer your tulip back to you.

It’s a sign of affection you said. He hopes you understand, because he really can’t stomach speaking right now.

Surely, surely you do… right?

Your eyes go wide as if it was not your own flower he had been offering to you, gingerly taking the little bloom by it’s stem into your own hands.

And when you glance up at him, looking so happy, so giddy and yet trying and failing to hold it all back, he finds that same warm sunshine you’ve offered him when you leaned out your window the first time you met.

It’s so bright, it almost burns. At least, it certainly makes his face burn. He can’t stare at you for long, turning away sharply as he fights the urge to take more than he’s due, to sweep the dirt from your face, pluck the flower from your hand and tuck it behind your ear…. Or…. Something…..

He has to go. He has to leave. His face can’t take much more of this overwhelming warmth.

“I have to—” he begins his retreat muttering as he goes, but you grab him, your hand clinging to the slim portion of his wrist, fingers slipping beneath the cuff, to sensitive skin beneath, as if scared that he might try to tear your hand from his skin.

“Wait you….” Your smile faltered, growing into something sad as you stared at him. “Will…. Will I remember you?”

And for all he wanted to escape, he turns back to you to slip your fingers free from the uncomfortable hold they have on his wrist, to instead take your hand in his own and give what he hopes is a reassuring squeeze. “Yes. You…. Yes. You’ll remember me. So long as you have that pouch I gave you…”

He can see it in your eyes, in the furrow of your brow and how you lean closer to him. You want to know why. What had happened to him, how it happened. You want to ask about the spell that he asked for himself.

But you don’t.

That soft smile glows his way instead, and you squeeze your own hand against his once more.

“Okay,” you say hand already falling slack. “I’ll see you in the market then.” You’re just barely holding on to his fingers now, still squeezing, still trying to let go. “You’ll visit, right?”

He wants to say yes, but you’ll remember him now, and he’d hate to leave you waiting for him.

“The market isn’t really….”

“Ah right." You laugh, though a little awkwardly. "How about here then? Do… do you think you can come back here sometime?”

He nods, not trusting his voice to speak for him. Your fingers are nearly gone from his hand, but you curl them up against his anyways, giving one final squeeze before your hand falls away.

He turns, and with the loud creak of the metal gate marking his departure, he sends one final glance to you, finding you grinning from ear to ear, waving at him as he goes. “Come back soon! I really want to get to know you!”

Tongue tied, and the need to escape burning furiously through his body, Muriel smiles and nods, before he slips through the gate and through the foliage that hides it, already planning the fastest way to get back home, and the fastest way to return to your garden the next day.

–––––––––✿・✿・✿–––––––––

When Muriel gets home his hands are a trembling mess. He misses many times, trying to slip the many flowers he’s received back into the little cup along with the others. Perhaps it’s a bad decision to take up a knife when his hands are trembling this much, but just as much as he shakes with the overwhelming wave of anxiety from talking with you, he trembles just as much with an itch to create.

It’s hard work, and long work, and it’s very far from done when the sun finally sinks down into the sky, but the shape is at least there, and tomorrow he’ll work on scooping out the insides of it to make a vase.

His thumb sweeps over the patterns clumsily carved into the wood but he smiles as he follows the grooves of his work.

A little heart sitting amidst a garden of clumsily carved flowers.

It’s fitting, in a way.

It seems to be where he’s left his own after all.

……

…It…also seems to be where he’s left his basket.

Ah, well, looks like he’ll have to go there tomorrow then, right?

#answering asks #Anonymous #x reader #reader insert #Muriel x reader #Muriel the arcana #Muriel #the arcana muriel #the arcana muriel x reader #the arcana #Muriel the mountain man #Muriel the hermit #muriel of the kokkhuri #muriel arcana #muriel the hermit

[lunamochii]

Hi!! I hope this makes sense its my first time requesting 😅

You know how Jake gave up his position as Olo'eyktan to Tarsem? What if reader was originally supposed to be the new tsahik and bethroed to Neteyam since he was training to become Olo'eyktan after Jake. But since the Sullys had to leave the Omatikaya clan she ended up mating with Tarsem's son and Neteyam is so heart broken and anguished over this when he comes back after the war is done. Can it also be in his POV to make it extra angsty lol

Bittersweet Goodbye

🎐 pairing; Neteyam x omatikaya!femreader

🎐 content warning; pure angst 😀 everything is on Neteyam’s pov🥲

🎐 author’s note; ANON! You can’t possibly type ‘lol’ at the end after dropping this request! IF I HAD MY OWN TAIL I WOULD BITE IT JUST TO MAKE ME SCREAM ALL OUT! ANYWAYS HOPE YOU WILL LIKE IT😭 also can I get a feedback from this?🥹

1.1k words

“I’m sorry, sorry… so sorry”

Tears falling down from his eyes as his shaky hands found it’s place on the sides of your face as he kiss your forehead. He can feel his body shaking as he hug you so tight

“Will you come back for me?”

“Yes, I will. Y/N promise me you’ll be here when I come back?“

He look at your eyes and different emotions flood your eyes and he can’t help but pulled you in for a one more kiss. Hands on your hip as he doesn’t let you get away, his lips always catching yours everytime you pull away

Finally letting you go, the both of you broke into sobs knowing that this would be the last time, you would be able to feel each other’s warmth

“Neteyam!”

Hearing his father’s scream he immediately peeled away from the hug, he felt you grab him on his hand, he shook his head and all you could do is hug yourself

Neteyam can feel your gaze as he make way towards his ikran, getting on it he turn to look at you once last time before flying off

“This isn’t a goodbye..”

How many months have passed? He can’t count it. Many things happened including him escaping the door of death. The devotion he have of feeling your warmth once more made him fought all the way

Even though they are a part of the Metkayina people now, his family decided to still go back to bring the good news that the war is finally over. Flying faster than his father, he finally saw the home he truly belong to and not even sparing a second he landed and ran towards his beloved’s hut

“Y/N!!”

Your name rolling out from his mouth, there he saw you. Weaving, your head turned towards him and Neteyam couldn’t help but ran towards you and engulf you into a hug, burying his face on the crook of your neck. He couldn’t stop himself on showering you kisses then landing on your lips, he noticed you didn’t respond so he back away and stare at you

“Y/N? Is something wrong? Your Neteyam is back!”

He can’t hide his happiness as he hug you again but this time he heard you sob and hug him so tight. Your broken voice echoes

“Hey hey what’s wrong? Are you alright, my love?”

“Neteyam… Neteyam!”

He was about to console you again when someone entered the hut

“ma Y/N, have you decided the place where we’ll be having… our little time…..”

His hands slowly slid down from your shoulders, your sobs still in the background as he look at the man. He knows him. He knows him too well. A good friend of his who always cheered him during his training

“What… what? Little time? ma Y/N?”

Tarsem’s son. Kxiyo. The man couldn’t move a inch his eyes switching from you then back to Neteyam, he saw him bit his lip

“I will give you two time”

With that Kxiyo left, leaving Neteyam alone with you

“What does this mean Y/N?”

He ask back facing you, standing up he can already tell what will be the next words he would be spitting out.

“We… me and Kxiyo… mated… Neteyam— I swear— I waited! But I can’t ignore the people’s words!”

He can feel his blood rush to his head, letting out a growl he kick the basket that you were weaving and face you

“What the fuck does that mean?! You two mated?! Should it be you, huh?!”

He never once raise his voice. Not to his siblings, not to you, not to ANYONE. He ran his hair across his hair and let out loud sigh

“You were to be my tsahik! You were to be my mate! YOU WERE MADE TO BE MINE!”

“YOU LEFT! I KNOW YOU LEFT FOR YOUR FAMILY’S OWN SAFETY BUT I CAN’T JUST SIMPLY BREAK MY PROMISE TO EYWA!”

Neteyam was taken back by your words, he knows for a woman to be a tsahik, that woman shall be chosen by Eywa. Making a promise with the greatmother

He keeps on walking back and forth then he saw you try to touch from his hands but he swat it away. He grab you by the shoulders making you look at him, anger and sadness flood his eyes making you touch him on his cheeks

“Neteyam… my Neteyam… you are the best thing that happened to me. But I had to let go, for the clan’s future.. please…”

He shook his head and took your hands and move away from you

“I— I escape door’s death for you. There are no nights of me thinking of you. Day and night all I ever thought is your smile, laughter, hands, lips. You live on my mind 24/7.”

He broke into a sob and knelt down before you, your eyes widen. He hug your legs, feeling his tears

“Please don’t do this… please get up Neteyam…”

“Eywa knows how much I love you, how much I see you. I’m crazy for you Y/N… so crazy it hurts!”

Neteyam look up and saw you crying, you also kneel down. He felt your hands wrapping around his neck, foreheads touching one another. Both a mess.

“Won’t you choose me? Won’t you smile sweetly for me once more, love?”

His heart broke once more seeing you shook your head, he bit his lip and crash his lips into your but was immediately push away

“No Neteyam… I belong to Kxiyo now…”

You say that man’s name like just how you say his name on the past

“Just one more time, ma Y/N. Let me love you one last time”

He stared at you waiting for some disagreement but he saw none, he took this opportunity and kissed you with every love he got for you. Pouring everything.

You can feel his emotions through the kiss and you can’t help but sob, your heart breaking into tiny pieces. Your love with him never faded away but you can’t turn back time now. You are mated to someone and that someone is not Neteyam

“This is a goodbye. Goodbye, my most beloved”

With shaky hands and his body trembling, he kissed your forehead. His hand slipping away from yours, the moment he got out from your place, he bolted and went to his ikran and flew to the place he once shared with you

He close his eyes and hopes that Eywa will take all he have for you. He wants to feel nothing. He wants to feel nothing for you.

“This time…. It is a goodbye.”

+++

I broke my heart while writing this🥹 shameless tag of this people since you guys commented of that status where I wanna make Neteyam beg😭 @miapanticc, @holdyourwine, @lassiedovefall

#atwow fanfiction #neteyam #neteyam x reader #neteyam x y/n #sully family #angst #anon ask #avatar the way of water neteyam #atwow neteyam #neteyam fic #neteyam x omaticaya!reader #neteyam x you #neteyam angst #neteyam sully #atwow imagines #atwow fandom

[pettypuppy-jonghyun]

Hi! Is it okay if I request a really really really short one shot. Where the reader really likes colouring books, and they mentioned that fact to Hyunjin. So on their 2nd anniversary, he gifted her a colouring book that he made about their moments together?

Idk if this has been done by someone else before but I thought it was a rlly cute idea😖

Thank you for the request! Initially, I was going to write it when I got the chance, but I truly loved the idea and kinda got carried away with it😅

You mentioned really really really short and I'm so sorry that it might be longer than you anticipated, but I still hope you are able to enjoy it! Thanks again♥️

•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

You couldn't explain why you felt so excited to run home that evening. You weren't sure of the reasoning yourself. Whether it was because you were finally able to see your lover after a long time apart, or because you couldn't wait to see his expression when he opened the gift you had for him. Maybe it was a mix of both, as they both centered around him. But the giddiness just kept building up, and the closer you got home, the more you fidgeted in the driver's seat.

Your second year anniversary together just happened to coincide with the day Hyunjin was returning home. It played perfectly into your plan, as your gift for him was finally finished. The small object rattled in the bag you bought, signifying its presence with every turn you took. Occasionally you reach your arm out to touch the handles of the gift bag, verifying that it truly was there and ready to be opened.

The moment you entered your apartment, your heartbeat flooded your chest. You closed the door quickly, hoping you arrived before him. You kicked off your shoes quickly, tip-toing into the living room to check the place out swiftly. Deciding it was safe, you gently place the bag onto the coffee table and turn around to leave.

"Why are you being so sneaky?" Hyunjin teases, his voice catching you off guard. He giggles at the shock spreading across your features, stepping into the room to see you better. "What do you have there?"

"You scared me!" You rest a hand to your chest, already having your heart nearly beat out of its place.

He laughs lightly, moving to wrap you tightly in his arms. "I missed you baby," he whispers.

You sighed, leaning into his tall frame to feel engulfed by his warm hug. His presence was always enough to calm you, even when it was his fault your adrenaline was through the roof. You squeezed him, nuzzling your head into his chest for a moment.

"Happy anniversary," you tell him, finally pulling away.

He repeats the words back to you, brushing back your hair from your eyes so he could see them better. "I have a surprise," he mentions, quickly pulling away to grab the item. "I want you to open mine first."

Hyunjin grabs the bag, pulling you down into the couch before placing it into your lap. He ignores your looks of interest, ushering you to take the tissue paper out. He kept his focus on your gift, waiting.

You smiled at your boyfriend, reaching to pull out the paper and see the items inside. At first, you didn't recognize it. A thin book laid inside, with a light colored cover and no title. You thanked him anyway, mentioning that you liked the colors. Still, you flipped the book open to see the inside contents.

The first page you opened caught your eye. Your eyebrows furrowed as you stared at the white page full of intricate lines and shapes. A beautiful drawing of a picnic table with trees and a lake in the distance.

When you began to recognize the drawing, you gasped. "Hyunjin!"

He tenderly watched your eyes begin to water, rubbing your back softly. "It's a coloring book," he confesses. "I made it with our precious moments. That was the park where I asked you to be with me."

You stroke the page with a light finger. "Oh, honey. You remembered how much I missed coloring books? I only mentioned it to you that one time."

Hyunjin shrugs, feeling a blush wash over his face as you carefully look at the book he made. "Well, you always walk towards them at the store. I figured it was more personal this way."

After a moment of fauning over your gift, feeling your chest warming up at the sight, you moved to grab his own gift from you. You quickly placed it in his lap, moving the coloring book aside and wiping away your tears. "Here! Open mine now!"

He peeled away the tissue paper, slowly unraveling the wrapped up gift. Carefully, he lifted the small metal box, glancing at you before opening it. His lips parted in shock as a small tune filled the room, a sound all to familiar to the both of you.

A tiny music box played in his hands, singing your shared favorite song. He listened to it play, memorized such a small thing could sing so beautifully. Hyunjin smiled at the item, realizing just how much you two truly loved another to get such similarly sentimental gifts. He leant over to your side of the couch to share a sweet kiss, murmuring how grateful he was for you.

#hyunjin #hwang hyunjin #skz imagine #stray kids scenarios #skz fluff #skz reactions #hyunjin fluff #hyunjin imagines #my first request??? #stray kids imagine #stray kids fluff #hyunjin drabbles #skz oneshot #hyunjin oneshot

[mooodyblue]

Hi, how are you? I hope you're doing well. Can I request an Austin Butler x Reader with fluff or smut? Whichever floats your boat in the idea. The scenario is the reader is dared to kiss her ex boyfriend during her friend group's sleepover party at her best friend's house. Since her ex is friends her bff's brother and the guy didn't arrive on time to board the bus to get home, he's staying over for the night at the same house reader and her friends are in. Of course, this distresses the reader because wtf? Her friends know that she's happy with Austin and she wouldn't want to hurt him even if it was just a dare. Also the person who gave her the dare was probably looking for some drama and reader didn't want to entertain that person with something that will make her life miserable.

Seeing her distressed, her best friend suggested to give reader a second option which is to call up Austin and have him stay the night. So she did, he comes over and finds that reader is wearing one of his shirts to this sleepover and she explains the whole ordeal while she and bff leads him to one of the house's guest rooms. If you go with smut, reader ends up sneaking off in the middle of the night to see him in his room.

When morning comes and they all have breakfast, Austin catches reader's ex checking her out and he goes and does things to make him regret for ever letting her go.

Lol, gonna leave this here and shoot my shot again. I realized I might be the only one giving you these long requests. Sorry if they're long. 😅✌️

Other than that, I hope you have a great day out there. 😊✌️ —🐴🐎

omg sorry this took me forever to write!!! ty for the request! i love a good long request 🫶🏼

slumber party | austin x fem!reader

warnings: 18+, mdni!! slightly jealous austin, unprotected p in v, dirty talk, very very slight dom/sub thing going on here,

wc: 2k

masterlist

you loved a good slumber party. movies, snacks, and gossiping over petty drama with your friends were one of your favorite past times. it was only past ten and nobody was tired yet. your best friend still hadn’t decided on a movie and everyone else was growing frustrated, the bowl of popcorn on the floor was now half empty. while everyone was pestering your friend, you sat quietly, picking at your newly painted nails. 

in the midst of all the arguing, everyone quickly turned their necks to the front door at the sound of keys rattling, only to find your friend’s brother standing at the doorway. “you have to be kidding me.” you muttered under your breath.

“what are you doing here? i thought you were going back to your dorm.” she gritted through her teeth, giving you an apologetic glance. 

jackson shrugged, “i missed the bus.” he looked over at you, grinning. “hey, y/n. still looking good.” 

you rolled your eyes, going back to picking at your nails as your friend stood up. “you can’t just wait for the next bus?” 

“i’m not standing outside and waiting for the next bus to show up at midnight. i’ll just be up in my room, ellie. you won’t even know i’m here.” he adjusted his backpack and locked the door behind him, barely making his way up the stairs till your least favorite amongst the group perked up.

“wait!” she exclaimed. “join us! we can play truth or dare!”

ellie looked at you, knowing exactly what she was trying to do. if there was anything julie was good at, it was trying to stir the pot whenever she could. she knew how you felt about jackson and how awful he was towards you, of course, she had to make the night awful for you. but maybe tonight would be different, you gave julie a chance. you looked at ellie then back at jackson. he smirked, locking eyes right with you. “can’t say no to that.”

he joined in shortly, sitting across from you in the small circle on the floor. ellie sat next to you, keeping an eye on her brother and giving him dirty looks as he continued to stare at you. it was finally your turn again. you sighed as julie thought up something for you. “you said truth last time so obviously you have to pick dare this time.” she grinned. 

“julie..” ellie gave her a glare.

“i dare you to kiss jackson.”

the entire circle gasped, your jaw dropped. “what the fuck? are you twelve? i’m not kissing him.”

“it’s a dare, you have to!” she crossed her arms.

“i don’t consent to it.” you replied sternly.

ellie looked at the three of you, trying to come up with something else. “oh!” she patted your arm, “i dare you to call austin! a-and invite him to spend the night too!”

“so much for girls night.” a friend muttered in the distance.

you agreed to calling austin, inviting him to come over in front of everyone. he was confused as to why you wanted him at girls night, at least until he sees ellie open the door and spots jackson sitting behind her. she gave austin an apologetic look, “why is he here?” austin asked, looking over her shoulder. 

“don’t get mad.” she whispered before calling your name to greet austin.

your face lit up at the sight of your boyfriend, wrapping your arms around him and hugging him tightly. “thank god you’re here.” you sighed. your best friend explained the whole situation with her brother and how her friend was trying to rile you up. 

all the while, austin noticed you decked in only his shirt and tiny shorts, licking his lips before rubbing the back of his neck. “well, thanks for calling me.” he smiled. 

“i’ll show you the guest room, follow me!” she smiled, bringing the two of you to the guest room. “we’ll wait for you.” she winked at you before heading downstairs.

he set his bag on the bed and thanked your friend, wrapping his arms around your waist. “sorry to ruin girls night.” 

you shook your head, “it was ruined once he stepped in the house.” you said with a sigh, cupping his face. “i’m glad you’re here though.” 

he glanced down at your shirt again, “when did you take this?” 

“sorry—grabbed it when i was packing. do you want it back?” you frowned.

“no, no. keep it. i wanna take it off you though.” he smirked. “if only you were wearing nothing under it.” 

if there wasn’t a group of girls downstairs waiting for you, you’d take him right then and there. you brought a finger up to his lips. “later.” 

the two of you went back to the group downstairs, austin taking a seat next to you and keeping an arm around your shoulder the whole time. the game finished and everyone eventually decided on a movie, focusing on that as austin tried to tease you under the blanket, placing kisses all over your neck. you could just feel jackson’s burning stare, full of jealousy. but austin was going to do everything he could to prove that you were his and only his. 

after the movie, jackson went up to his room and you gave austin one last kiss before he headed up to the guest room. 

but you tossed and turned all night. you scrolled on your phone, read a litle and still couldn’t bring yourself to sleep. you sat up and looked around to everyone sound asleep before getting up and tip-toeing up the steps to the guest room, quietly shutting the door behind you. 

you teetered over the bed where austin was sound asleep, taking your shorts off and gently placing yourself on top of his lap. your warm heat met with his crotch, feeling him semi-hard right underneath you. “aus.” you whispered, running your hands over his chest. “austin!” you whispered louder. 

his eyes bolted open, jumping slightly at the sight of you on top of him. “jesus, am i dreamin’?” his deep-sleepy voice coming into play. “there’s an angel right on top of me.” 

you couldn't help but snort, “don't make it corny.” 

he let out a small hum, bringing his hands to your hips then up your shirt, “so you did have no panties on….what were you thinking?” 

with a roll of your hips, you shrugged. “it's more comfortable.” 

austin bit his lip, stifling back a groan. his hands shifted up higher, squeezing at your bare breasts. “fuck, baby. what if jackson saw, huh?” he flipped you over on the mattress, straddling you. “you just want the whole world to see that pretty pussy of yours, huh?” he sneered. “don't you know who you belong to?” 

“i’m all yours, aus. only yours.” you reached over to rub his now, hard cock through his sweats, only for your hand to be swatted away. 

“don’t touch.” he tsk’d, moving slightly to take off his sweats. he crawled up to you, pressing his lips against your neck and nibbling on the sensitive area. he was driving you crazy, his length resting on your thigh as he continued to mark what was his. he wanted your ex staring at all the marks he made the next morning, showing who you really belonged to.

you wanted him so bad, you craved his touch. you were dripping with anticipation, mewling against austin. “please, need you.” you bucked up your hips slightly, begging for any sort of friction against your throbbing heat. “touch me, fuck me. do something, please.”

austin chuckled, sitting up and hiking up his shirt that was still on you just slightly. “so damn needy.” he ran a finger through your folds, lazily toying with your clit as he gave himself a few strokes. “gonna take my cock like a good girl?” 

“fuck–yes. yes, daddy.” you begged. 

he lined himself up with you, grunting softly as he felt you squeeze tightly around him. his hands moved to your hips, squeezing at the soft flesh. “all good?” he asked before going any farther.

you huffed, sitting up on your elbows. “if you ask me one more question and don't just fuck me–i swear to god.” 

his eyes widened, “damn, baby. ‘scuse me for tryin’ to be a good boyfriend.” he pushed you back down and wasted no time, sliding out of you before slamming his hips against you repeatedly. “no fuckin’ wonder. so tight it's got you all worked up, y’needed me that bad?” 

you threw your head back in bliss, “so fucking bad.” 

austin gripped your hips tighter, surely to leave bruises the next morning. unsatisfied, he sat up more and rested your leg on his shoulder in an attempt to get your sweet spot. the gasps and moans leaving your lips left him satisfied. he quickly covered your mouth with his hand as his movements continued, “don't want your little friends downstairs to hear you.” 

you lifted his hand, “no, but i want him to hear.” 

“god, i fucking love you.” he quickened his pace, “make those pretty lil’ noises for me. let him hear how i fuck you so much better, how he's missin’ out.” 

you clawed at the sheets, feeling your orgasm approaching quicker as that feeling began to coil in your belly. “fillin’ me up so good, daddy. i love your cock so much.” 

“yeah?” he grunted, “gonna let me cum right inside you? fill you right up?” 

“please! oh, please, please–” you gasped, feeling yourself clench right around him as you reached your high, juices surely soaking the sheets underneath you. 

austin threw his head back, letting out a silent moan as he filled you with his seed–worrying about the consequences later. he put your leg back down, panting as he hovered over you to give you a quick kiss. “you think he heard?” he said in a breathy laugh. 

“i think everybody heard.” 

austin got you cleaned up, slipping your shorts back on along with his sweats before getting back into bed with you. “girls night indeed.” he mumbled against your shoulder as he held you tightly. he grinned at the bruise forming on your neck, giving it a soft kiss before dozing off. 

the walk down the steps the following morning was almost humiliating for you. austin loved it though. he wandered into the kitchen with you, a pep in his step as he poured himself coffee. “y'all sleep well?” he asked with a smile. 

there was a silent response along with a glare from ellie, shaking her head at the two of you. she'd definitely have to do laundry later, maybe even burn that mattress. you munched on a piece of toast as you chatted with one of the girls about brunch, ignoring the awkwardness with austin. 

jackson wandered in, shirtless and stretching as he stole a piece of bacon from the counter. “too many damn women in here.” he mumbled, he looked up at austin–giving him a look of disgust. he shoved his way past him to sit at the dining table and got a glimpse of you, eyeing at your ass in the tiny shorts austin loved so dearly. 

austin caught on quickly and had enough. he set his coffee down and pulled you away from the group, getting a surprised yelp from you as he kissed you, arms wrapped right around your waist. his hands trailed down to your shorts, giving your ass a gentle squeeze as he pulled away. “those marks are lookin’ real nice this morning. what do you think, jackson? don't they look good on her?” 

your face warmed up, looking over at your flustered ex then back at your friends. you didn't know if inviting austin over yesterday was a good idea or not. but if you hadn't, you wouldn't have had the best sex of your life. but you also wouldn't have to deal with the tension between austin and your ex. 

jackson rolled his eyes, looking down at his phone. austin let you go and walked to the table, leaning against it to meet him face to face. “if i ever see you layin’ eyes on her again, i will make your life a living hell.” he said, quietly. the other man looked at him, blinking nervously before scrolling on his phone again. 

austin turned to you, “so girls, you doin’ brunch? its on me.”

tags: @purejasmine

#austin x reader #austin butler x reader #i spent my entire day writing this help me

[mjolnirswriststrap]

could you write a fanfic of clint barton making hot cocoa for reader when reader is sad? and just fluff all around :3 ♡

❄️DAY FOUR OF COUNTDOWN ‘TILL CHRISTMAS☃️

A/N: Ive never personally read or wrote anything to do with Clint, I see him as more of a father figure so I never crossed that line lol. So I tried to give you what you asked for, maybe some suggestive flirting but this is majorly platonic fluff. I can’t bring myself to do anything more than that 😅 Taking Request- a link to the characters I write for. Masterlist

Word Count: 1,588 (I did way over 1k cause this is so late, sorry babe)

Summary: Clint always knows just the right thing to say.

Here you were again, knocking on your best friend’s door, dripping wet from the rain and your own tears. It was a regular occurrence; you have any upset in your life and you went to Clint to help you fix it.

You waited till you heard shuffling from the other side of the door. Clint opened it, squinting at the bright hallway light. “It’s 3am, what happened this time kid?” He groans as he ushers you in the door. “He told me I was too much,” you take off your coat and make yourself right at home in his kitchen. Brewing you both a cup of cocoa, it was gonna be a long night.

You turn around and grab two mugs from the cabinet “, what does that even mean? Too pretty? Too talkative? Too smart? Was I too much of a woman for him, just help me make sense of it.” You say, sliding a steaming cup of chocolate across the counter.

Clint gives you a ‘are you done’ look and you nod. Not needing words to communicate with your friend. He takes a sip before he begins “It’s rather simple, I can’t believe you didn’t realize it sooner.”.

You furrow your eyebrows, preparing to be offended, even though you asked for his help. “C’mon.” You say walking around him to his living room, sitting on the couch. He spins in his stool, coming to join you on the couch. He sets down his mug on his ring covered coffee table, he didn’t believe in coasters.

You remember being so embarrassed the first night you sought him out. He gave you a piping hot cup of cocoa in a blue mug, it was old and wore down. You could barely make out “school of archery” and a bow drawn back, printed on the front.

It burned your finger tips when he handed it to you, so you quickly set it down on the solid wood in front of you. “That needs to cool down.” You sheepishly said, sucking on your burnt fingertips. Once you got to talking and you finally remembered your drink, you lifted it up to find a white circle, perfectly indented on the pristine wood. “I didn’t even think, I’m so sorry.” You said, worried you’d have to replace your coworkers coffee table.

“I’m not worried about it.” And you were ridden of any prior anxiety. That’s how the table ended up like this, covered in heat spots, peeled from sweat dripping down cups.

“So since it’s so clear for you, do you mind letting me in on my own problem?” You say, throwing your feet on his lap. He rolls his eyes, and begins massaging your toes. “Like I said, it’s obvious.” He looks over to you, catching your eyes, “You could never be too much, he wasn’t enough.”.

You rip your feet from him and flip your body the opposite way. Not being able to get comfortable. You lay your head in his lap instead, looking up to him. “Be so for real, maybe I need to relax on some things, I need your honesty.”. Clint looks up in thought.

You pick at the thread on his t-shirt. “I just don’t want to be the reason why nothing works for me. Why can’t it be some other driving force like, he’s married with kids, or he’s a psychopath. Why is it always me?” You huff out.

Clint runs his hand over your wet hair, “I mean it, he wasn’t enough.” You roll your eyes at him this time, why was he sparing your feelings. “Just hear me out, okay?” You turn back to him, nodding.

“He knew he wasn’t enough, and it’s not easy for boys to admit they can’t keep up with a woman, that’s why he projected it on to you, telling you that you were “too much”, cause he’s not a real man. And I agree, what does that even mean.” He says, he always knew exactly what to say.

Sometimes hearing how wise he is makes you feel years behind him, but you joined the team at the same time. “You promise?” You give him puppy dog eyes, knowing he couldn’t lie to you. “I promise.” He reached out his pinky and links it with yours. You lean up and kiss his cheek, causing you to blush, you’d never thanked him that way before. “My hero.” You were smiling now, far different from your first apparence tear soaked in his door way.

He looks down at you, placing his hand on your cheek, rubbing a thumb across your chin and up your cheek. “One day you’ll see what I see. The reason why I let you in a 3am, and sit on my couch in wet clothes, why I let you completely disregard that we have work in the morning.”. You looked up at your friend, seeing a glimmer in his eyes.

“Cause I’m the best, and you can’t resist.” You say, breaking up the tension of the moment. It causes him to scoff, “Sure, whatever helps you sleep at night, pal.” You lift yourself from the couch, and peel your sweater off your body. “Are you getting me pajamas or not pervert.”. You laugh when you catch Clint looking a second too long.

“You have a weird way of asking for things, don’t you?” He returns from his bedroom, dry clothes in his hands, he throws the shirt at you, you recognize it instantly. It was from a community fundraiser, “27th Street Center Toy Drive” was printed on the front.

“How do you still have this?” You say, throwing it on over your head. “I’m a collector, or hoarder, you decide.” Clint leans on the door way of his room, waiting on you to finish pulling on his basketball shorts. You were both adults, getting dressed and undressed wasn’t overly sexualized at work, so why should it be here?

You’d helped Sam pull off his tight ass flight pants plenty before. Natasha had literally poured baby powder in your latex suit while you were naked underneath. It’s more of a helping hand thing. Even though you definitely didn’t need Clint’s help tying up your shorts, you were numb to getting undressed randomly in front of people.

“You can have the bed I’ll take my own couch, again.” He says, pulling a blanket from the closet. You smile, knowing this was gonna be how your night ended when you walked out of the restaurant. You walk up to him, wrapping your arms around him, “I don’t know what I’d do without you hawk.”

He squeezes you, letting you know it’s gonna be okay. “Just get some sleep, pretty girl.” He says, pushing you into his room.

You climb into his soft sheets, waiting for the smell of his cologne to put you to sleep. You press your face into the pillow to be met with a freshly washed pillow case. “Clint!” You yell, annoyed that you’d have to admit to him you love his smell.

He appears in the dark doorway, he must have already gotten comfortable on the couch because he didn’t have a shirt on. “What’s wrong?” He says, looking at you take up only a tenth of his king size bed. “Are these fresh sheets?”.

“Is that a problem?” He says, his exhaustion fully showing. You shake your head, “it just doesn’t smell like you.”. “Whatever weirdo.” He laughs, walking into the room.

“Well, sort of a problem. Maybe just for me.” You say, sitting up in bed when he sits at the foot of it. You knew you’d have to tell on yourself eventually. “One of the best parts about coming to Clint’s to wallow in self pity, besides the cocoa and free therapy is getting to sleep in your bed.”. You look down at your hands, not being able to fully get to the point.

Clint reaches over and holds your hand, “I’m glad you feel so comfortable here. But shouldn’t you be happy I just washed my sheets? Maybe I’m missing something.” He says.

You look up at him, you need to play this off as nonchalant as possible. “I don’t know, it just smells like you and I’ve slowly associated that with a comforting thing, like the cocoa and you.” You give him a half smile, not really meaning it.

There was no other way to say it. It was going to sound either creepy or romantic no matter what. You just hope he didn’t take offense in any way. “Oh.” He says, breaking you from your nervous spiral.

“Yeah, now that I say it out loud, it’s actually really embarrassing.” You don’t understand yourself sometimes, it’s like you live to torment yourself. He stands up and you think he’s going to leave the room, but he walks around to the other side of the bed, climbing under the covers. “If it helps you, it helps. Who am I to judge my own friend?”.

You look at him with wide eyes, “it’s not weird?” You ask. He leans back against the headboard, folding his hands on his chest, “Only thing making it weird is you.” He laughs, closing his eyes. You roll on your side and face him, he’s laying on his back.

You feel yourself already falling asleep as you wiggled into a comfortable position. You crack open one eye “If you mention this to anyone I will kill you.” You say, not letting him forget that you’re both assassins.

#clint barton #clint x reader #clint barton x reader #hawkeye #hawkeye x reader #fluff #oneshot #christmas countdown #request #platonic

[darkstar225]

Twice's 10th member acting as the villain in a drama

A/N: Heyyy, I'm alive! Sry for taking so long to post but finally the semester ended :D I hope the anon that gave me this idea on Tumblr likes it! :)

The request: Hello! Can I ask if you can make Twice reacting to 10th member acting as villain in drama/movie? Sorry my English not good😅

PS: Tysm for everyone that reads what I write, I hope I can bring a smile to your faces every time I post! I'd like to thank whoever sent me this idea 'cause I loved to write it <3

__________________________________________________________

In the bustling city of Seoul, TWICE, the world-renowned K-pop girl group was taking a well-deserved break from their busy schedules (please give our girls a break). The members had gathered in their cosy dorm to catch up on their favourite dramas and movies. Among them was their youngest member, Y/N, who had recently taken on a challenging acting role as a villain in a popular drama series. As the group settled on the couch, with bowls of popcorn in hand, the drama started playing on the large TV screen. The screen lit up, revealing TWICE's honey captivating presence. She portrayed a complex character with depth and intensity, leaving everyone in awe. Nayeon couldn't contain her excitement as the oldest and one of the moms from 3mix, she maintained her eyes glued to the screen. 

Nayeon - Our cutie pie is so talented! Look at her! She's nailing every scene.

Jeongyeon nodded in agreement while speaking. 

Jeongyeon - She's killing it! I can't believe our baby is playing such a convincing villain. She's a natural.

As the drama unfolded, Y/N's character revealed her cunning and manipulative nature, captivating the viewers. Momo, who loved dance and performances, was the first to speak up about how this one was incredible. 

Momo - The kiddo is so grown-up and mature in her acting. She's only going to get better with time. I can't wait to see what she does next!

Sana squealed in delight as she took note of how time was passing faster than they could see.

Sana - Our sugar is growing up right before our eyes! I'm so proud of her. She's like a little sister to all of us, and she'll always be our child, even when she's 40.

As the drama reached its climax, the maknae's character delivered a monologue that sent chills down the viewers' spines. Dahyun was moved to tears seeing her little sister being so mature and talented. 

Dahyun - Our lovebug is such a versatile actress. She's not just our maknae, she's a force to be reckoned with in the entertainment industry! Slay, sis <3

Jihyo couldn't agree more, with a motherly smile on her face she spoke about the youngest as her own child. 

Jihyo - Y/N's acting is so captivating. She's proven that she has the talent and charisma to take on any role. I'm excited to see her grow as an actress alongside her music career.

Y/N - Thank you, mama :D

Jihyo - Stop, you're gonna make me cry, bae!

Y/N - Fine... I'll shut up (for now)

The drama concluded, and the screen faded to black. The room erupted in applause and cheers as the members expressed their admiration for their sister's performance. Y/N, who had been watching their reactions with a mix of excitement and nervousness, blushed at the overwhelming praise making Chaeyoung grin mischievously. 

Chaeyoung - Darling, you were amazing! Can you teach me how to be such a convincing villain? Maybe we can even do a skit together.

Y/N chuckled, grateful for the support and love from her fellow TWICE members. 

Y/N - Of course, Chaeyoung unnie! We can practice whenever you want. But remember, I'm still your baby *pouts*

Mina spoke next, her voice as soft as a feather filled with sincerity. 

Mina - Love, you have truly grown into a phenomenal young woman. We're proud to have you as our maknae and even prouder to call you our sister.

The room fell into a comfortable silence as the members reflected on their kid's journey and their bond as a group. Tzuyu broke the silence with her signature smile. 

Tzuyu - No matter how successful you become, kiddo, we'll always be here to support you. We'll be your family, your unconditional support system, even when you're 40 and beyond!!

Y/N's heart swelled with gratitude and love for her TWICE family. She couldn't have asked for a better group of people to share her dreams and aspirations with. Their unwavering support made her feel invincible. Determined to express her gratitude, the youngest stood up and walked over to each member, hugging them tightly one by one. As she embraced each member, she whispered words of appreciation and love into their ears:

Y/N - Dahyun unnie, thank you for always making me laugh and bringing light into our lives.

Y/N - Nayeon unnie, thank you for being our fearless oldest and believing in me from the beginning while treating me as your child.

Y/N - Sana unnie, thank you for your infectious energy and for reminding me to always stay positive!

Y/N - Momo unnie, thank you for being my inspiration in dance and pushing me to explore my potential.

Y/N - Jeongyeon unnie, thank you for your honesty and straightforwardness. Your words always help me when I need to make a decision.

Y/N - Chaeyoung unnie, thank you for your creativity and for challenging me to step out of my comfort zone.

Y/N - Jihyo unnie or mama (:P), thank you for your guidance and for showing me what it means to be a strong and passionate leader.

Y/N - Mina unnie, thank you for your calm presence and for always being there as a shoulder I can lean on.

Y/N - Tzuyu unnie, thank you for your unwavering support and for being my first best friend in this family.

The room filled with warmth and affection as TWICE's petal heartfelt words resonated with each member. Tears of joy and love were shed, solidifying the unbreakable bond between them. As the night drew to a close, the members of TWICE gathered in a circle (not in a ritual way, just cute lol), their hands intertwined. They made a promise to continue supporting and encouraging each other, no matter what challenges lay ahead.

The maknae looked around at her family, feeling overwhelmed with gratitude as she gave her thanks again. The room erupted in cheers and laughter, their spirits lifted by the unbreakable bond they shared. They knew that with each other by their side, they could conquer any obstacle that came their way. And so, as Y/N's acting career soared to new heights, she carried the love and support of her TWICE sisters with her. With each success and achievement, they celebrated together, always reminding her that no matter how much she grew and matured, she would forever be their baby, cherished and loved. As the years passed, TWICE continued to dominate the K-pop industry, achieving new milestones and touching the hearts of millions. And through it all, Y/N remained their youngest member, a shining star who had proven her talent, versatility, and maturity time and time again. Together, they faced the world, armed with love, friendship, and unwavering support, forever embracing the bond that made them TWICE, the group that always makes their maknae think:

I love my dear unnies.

A/N: I apologise for any errors, English is not my first language. Pls, let me know if there's something wrong, ty for reading <3

#kpop imagines #kpop gg #twice imagines #twice 10th member #twice x reader #twice scenarios #twice #twice fluff #twice x y/n #twice x you #twice added member #twice addition #nayeon #nayeon x reader #jeongyeon #jeongyeon x reader #momo #momo x reader #sana #sana x reader #jihyo #jihyo x reader #mina #mina x reader #dahyun #dahyun x reader #chaeyoung #chaeyoung x reader #tzuyu #tzuyu x reader

[jmrothwell]

Happy early birthday! How about bed sharing prompt #8 for willex?

(Thanks Anon!! Part of why it took a while to post this was to get it closer to my actual birthday 😅)

Also for: 

@floating-in-the-blue: Can I request 8 (Whispering "Oh you are going to be very embarrassed when you wake up.") for willex please? @onlygenxhere : Bed sharing list. Oh it IS a good list. How about #8. Whispering "Oh you are going to be very embarrassed when you wake up." Maybe for Willex Wednesday if you're inspired that quickly?

Willie knew Alex was going to be late, he had a gig tonight. One Willie was unable to make due to a conflicting shift at the club. It’s why he wasn’t initially worried when he returned to an empty house. 

No, the worry came later after a few hours of mindless binging, with no sign of Alex. No message or call. No note of any kind. 

After thoroughly checking the fridge and kitchen counters (the usual best bets for notes to be left) and checking his phone several times over still with no luck, Willie decided he needed to go out and look for him. 

He’d barely gotten his shoes back on when there was knocking at his door. He was ready to tell off whoever it was on his own way out except, he heard the tell tale sign of a key sliding into the lock. Closely followed by the door being practically thrown open, some loud shushing noises and Alex giggling. 

“Alex?” Willie cried out as he dashed toward the front door, greeted by the sight of Alex shushing their front door between giggles as Luke helped support his weight. It didn’t take long to see why, the brand new cast encasing Alex’s leg.  “Dude, what happened?”

“Wheels!” Alex threw himself at Willie, who just barely managed to catch him. Thankfully, Luke also still had a pretty good grip on him. Even if Alex seemed to have entirely forgotten Luke’s presence with the way he was pressing his face into Willie’s neck. “I missed you.”

“Sorry, he’s never been good with pain meds. ‘Specially not the good stuff.” Luke said through an apologetic smile. Willie had heard all of them say that about Alex before but this was his first time actually seeing it. And truth be told, if Alex stayed this cuddly he didn’t really mind.

“You still haven’t said what happened.”

Luke bit at his bottom lip, his eyes suddenly danced with a guilt tinged mirth, as if he wanted to burst out laughing but didn’t think he should. “It was after we finished getting all the instruments back in the studio. Reggie and I were rough housing and he said…something smart assy about us hurting ourselves.”

Luke furrowed his brow like he was trying to remember but Willie would bet good money he hadn’t been paying any attention to begin with to hear it in the first place. Though he still hadn’t said how exactly Alex had hurt himself, Willie cleared his throat, and Luke refocused. 

“Anyway, He got fed up and said he was going to wait out in the van and totally wiped out on his way.”

“Really?” 

“Yep.” Luke said, that guilty tinged jovial look making a lot more sense now, as Willie could feel it reflecting on his own face.

“All right then,” Willie said with a shake of his head, fully taking Alex from Luke and thanking him for his help. 

When Willie finally got the two of them settled in for bed he was finally able to sit and process everything Luke had said about how Alex had hurt himself. Certain throughout the evening, with all the dancing he was bound to have done, there had been other more obvious times he could have broken his leg. And yet, he’d managed it with a single snark-filled misstep.

“Oh, you are going to be very embarrassed when you wake up,” Willie spoke into Alex’s hair, as his breathing slowly evened out, with the slightest hint of a snore.

#willex #willex wednesday #julie and the phantoms

[who-ever-said-i-was-nice]

Hello againnnn xD ❤️❤️

How are you xD, i want to request HC again today xD

How about MC is famous too in her time like.. she is a singer or idol group (kpop) or model ? Just wanna see their reactions when they know, maybe from sebas cause they're from the same country xD

(arthot mozart isaac theo or someone else you like xD)

THANK YOU SO MUCH BEFORE ❤️❤️❤️❤️

Sincerely,

Your fan xD

Hey there! I'm back from the dead. It's been way too long and I'm so sorry, but school is finally over and I can take some time to actually sort my life out I really am sorry😭😅

But anyway I hope you enjoy this, it was nice to finally get back to writing after so long.

Famous MC/reader and the Ikevamp bois

~Let's just assume that Sebas is the one that shows the saved videos from his somehow still working phone bc Leo invented a cherger or smth let me have this

Arthot - KPop Idol

Ah yes

our friendly neighbourhood thot detective

He's just fascinated

Ahh~ Luv, as always you take my breath away, who would have thought you could move like that *wink*

He's a menace but we love him don't we

but in all honestly he's very surprised and proud

100% your biggest fan

He's so impressed that you can sing and dance like that

At the SAME TIME???!!

He is shooketh and happy

will ask you to sing to him sometime

Under all the inappropriate jokes, he's just happy for you and very exited to see more of your shows bc he's just blown away

Elsa Mozart - Singer

oK so our favorite popsicle is very excited

Some people this that he wouldn't enjoy modern music, but I think he'd be on board with a lot actually

he's just appreciate the diversity

so anyway he looks at you singing on stage and his frozen heart just melts

instant big fan

He's generally appreciate any music inclined mc , but this?

he finds it breath taking

so he's impressed, yeah

but will he show it?

NoPPe

neverrr

he just nods his head and hummms , and if you look closely you can see a little twinkle in his eye that isn't normally there

to anybody else it would seem rude, but we all know we can't get any other reaction from him

But he is impressed and will treat you differently, with more respect from that point on

if you are really sneaky, you can catch him humming your songs

Smoll apple boi ?smapple boi? Isaac - Model

ohhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhoohoho

He blushes so hard

All the blood in his body rushes up to his head

like he's going to bust a bloodvessel someone help-

he's very amazed and at loss for words

like damn you were beautiful before but nOw???

To much for his big brain to handle

in conclusion: Isaac.exe. has stopped working

Theodorkus - Singer

ok so I think he would be similar to Mozart

He's impressed

like very impressed

he recognizes the talent

But will he ever show it

Depends

if he's in a good mood he will chuckle a little and marvel at how amazing you are

then later maybe he'll bring it up and tell you he thinks you're awesome in his own way

you know

with lots of dog comparisons but we all know you're proud Theo

you can't fool us for a second, we're on to you

and so is Sebastian

Sebastian - KPop Idol

our one hell of a butler

oh wait

no, wrong fandom

anYwAy

He's a big fan

probably watched your shows before he became Ciel's Comte's butler

He will smile and show you the video too

small headpat and hair ruffle

will kiss your forehead an tell you your cool

sorry but I like to believe that he'd be more affectionate once he opens up to you ok

He's honestly just supportive in general and actually sweet about it

That is all, that you so much for sticking around I appreciate you. ✿😘If your like to be tagged in future posts feel free to ask, also if you have any ideas of what I should do next slide on into my askbox, requests are open!

Love you all! ~Lia♮

#ikemen vampire arthur x reader #ikemen vampire #cybird ikemen #ikevamp #ikemen vampire theo headcanons #ikemen vampire mozart x reader #ikemen vampire theo #ikemen vampire arthur #ikemen vampire isaac #ikemen vampire x reader #ikevamp arthur x reader #ikevamp headcanons #ikevamp isaac #ikevamp mozart #ikevamp mozart headcanons #ikevamp theo #ikevamp sebastian #ikevamp issac x reader

[thepaintedlady00]

Okay vote results were in favor of no chapter, but I'm going to try and give y'all the best of both worlds. Burden has about 2 parts left, I've written some of To Catch a Fallen Star but if I can finish Burden by Saturday then I hope I'll be able to focus on completing the other mini-series by Tuesday next week. Then I'll be able to add the final touches to chapter 1 of Nightshade, edit it and get it posted Thanksgiving morning if that's good with everyone 😊

Sorry to all the unfinished requesters that have been waiting for your requests! 😅 I'll be taking the week after Thanksgiving to focus on getting the other fics first chapters out and finishing up those requests so we can kick start the next Request Week with a bang! 🤣

As for Request Week I just want to warn y'all that requests will be shorter than full fics/mini-series so if you have a big idea I'll likely try to split it up into smaller parts (like the Whitelighter and narcoleptic reader oneshots) just so I have a bit more time to work through requests 😅😂 And you are always welcome to request something be made into a mini-series, though another mini-series will likely have to wait until at least Nightshade (sweetbitter fic) is complete. 😊

Thank you all for being so supportive and patient! 🥰 I look forward to sharing all the coming content with you guys!

[sevikasmainwhore]

Sevika x Bimbo!Reader

This has been on my mind for a while and i just really wanted write it. Sorry for keeping y’all waiting 😅 I didn’t know how to go about it but i think this should be good. leave your thoughts if you’d like 🌸 please forgive any spelling mistakes, i’m trying

Requested ⇢ Yes/No

Type ⇢ Hc’s ❥

NSFW !!proceed with caution!! !!mdni!!

♡You both met at the brothel, you were one of the really cute and perky ones and she just enjoyed watching you

♡ After maybe what felt like for ever Sevika finally made up her mind by asking you to be her lover.

♡ You were confused at first but after thorough explains you said yes and it sealed the deal with you and her for life

♡ Sevika absolutely enjoys teasing you and you being so oblivious to her teasing.

♡ She questions how have you made it this far in the undercity. You’ve had to have some kind of protection

♡ of course your always on her lap whether it be when she’s playing cards or just sitting around in the last drop with a drink

♡ it’s like your only seat in the place.

♡ also your too cute and too friendly to be left alone. you wouldn’t be able to tell if someone was flirting with you or not.

♡ There’s been too many cases where someone flirted with you by accident not knowing who you were dating.

♡ you trip over a lot which worries sevika because the undercity isn’t exactly a place where you should be falling.

♡ there has even been cases where you’ll trip over thin air and she’ll catch you a chuckle

♡ “ is it too windy in here, or are you just that clumsy pumpkin?”

♡ sevika try’s her hardest to find you small cute things to bring back to you after every dirty deed

♡you often feel bad because she does so much for you so you try to find her things that she’ll like.

♡ she reassured you that you just being there with her is everything she could ever ask for.

♡ you and jinx get a long really well. it was a surprise to sevika but she didn’t argue

♡ silco argues with sevika and always tells her she could do better than you to which she respectfully disagrees but rants to you behind closed doors

♡ you wonder off an awful lot so sevika had gifted you a collar with “property of sevika” as the tag. that way people know not to touch you or anything of that nature

♡ you never take it off. why would you?

Tw: spitting, leashes, fingering, smoking, thigh riding

♡ Tying back into the collar, it came with its very own leash that Sevika used whenever she fucks you.

♡ she’ll tug and yank on it whenever you’re misbehaving or just being a brat

♡ she absolutely loves fingering you in public. she’ll either be discreet about it or not.

♡ she’s just reminding everyone who you belong too that’s all

♡ as much as you’ll beg and beg for her to help you get yourself off, she only makes excuses and just watch you struggle

♡ “what if i hurt that pretty pussy of yours, huh?” “i know you can do it.”

♡ if you’re ever being a brat out in public she’ll take you into an alleyway and spit in your mouth as punishment and just leave you all frustrated and bothered for the rest of the night

♡ at the most random times throughout the day, she’ll ask for your panties.

♡ you’ll stare at her in shock but obey anyway because who are you to disobey sevika?

♡ “Give me your panties” she’ll whisper in your ear. You stare at her in shock. “But I need those” Sevika smirks “Don’t you wanna be a good girl for me?”

♡she smokes whenever you ride her thigh, that way she shotgun you while you whine

♡watching the smoke come from your mouth while you whimper just does things to her.

♡ she doesn’t use her strap all the time on you because she just loves the rawness of it all

♡but when she does, she doesn’t hold back. broke the headboard on multiple occasions.

♡ “you’re just a hole for me to fuck aren’t you?” “you like this shit?” “such a good girl for me”

♡ sevika isn’t always mean when it comes down to fucking you though

♡ her aftercare is TOP NOTCH

♡ she’ll let you rest while she gets a warm cloth and water and maybe some fruit if you want it

♡ isn’t too big on cuddles after sex but will be completely willing if you want too

♡ whisper sweet words in your ear until you fall asleep

♡ “you took me so well” “you did amazing baby” “so beautiful”

♡ soft kisses on your forehead

♡ sevika couldn’t have asked for a better lover 💖

#arcane #sevika #arcane sevika #sevika x reader #♡ sevika brainrot ♡ #in the drafts for like some weeks… #sevika smut #sevika x reader smut

[okchijt]

Assassination Classroom family imagines of Karma finding out why Nagisa (non-yandere) left earlier than anyone else and Koro Sensei allowed it was because Nagisa is a older brother and he saw Nagisa picking up his younger sister of 11 years old from Elementary school.

Author's Note: Thank you so much Anon for the request! I'm so sorry if Karma or Nagisa are out of character, it's been a hot while since I've watched the show😅 Also, this is my 1st time ever writing an imagine, so I hope that it's supposed to look like that. Cause I'm kind of scared I accidentally made a one-shot instead😅 I hope you still like it though! And lastly, go ahead and check out my masterlist if you like what you just read and if you want to request anything yourself, thank you and enjoy!❤

Nagisa's Little Secret - Karma Akabane x Nagisa's!Little Sister!Reader! Imagine

When Karma decided to follow Nagisa, out of all things that could happen he certainly did not expect to see his best friend standing in front of an Elementary school. Slightly poking out from the building he was hiding behind to get a better look, he noticed a little girl running towards the feminine male with open arms while screaming his name in a cheery tone. Putting two and two together, Karma concluded that the two of you were siblings. With an evil smirk, Karma began walking towards the oblivious duo. "So that's why you left early today, huh?", Karma said laughing after successfully freighting the shorter male that quickly turned back around with an annoyed expression that upon seeing the person that startled him immediately changed to a surprised one. "Karma!? What are you doing here!? And how exactly did you get past Koro-Sensei!? What-" It was at that moment that Karma began to tune his blue-haired friend out and just stare at the tinier replica of him that was staring right at him. He began taking her features in, those big round eyes staring at him in wonderment, her hair that was pulled up into two pigtails and the expensive outfit that tied her all altogether. "Are you Nagi's friend from school?", Karma could not help but let out a chuckle at the nickname, bending down to the girl's height to greet himself. "Why of course! The name's Karma by the way, and you, little Nagisa?", he said amused, successfully making you giggle by the nickname he just gave you. "I'm Shiota (Y/N), but call me (Y/N)! Me and Nagi were about to head home." Glancing back at his friend and noticing he still wasn't done asking questions and freaking out, an idea formed in Karma's head. "Say, mind if I join in?", (Y/N's) eyes immediately lit up and grabbed the males arm dragging him to their destination. "Yes, please! I have so many questions to ask you! Nagi used to constantly talk about you at home about all your adventures, please tell me about them!", Nagisa finally snapped out of his frenzy after hearing his little sister uttering those words and immediately trying to catch up to them. "Wait, what!? Karma, don't tell her anything!", Nagisa yelled in a rather flustered and embarrassed tone, starting to panic again from what Karma might just tell you. "Oh did he now? Well, there was this one time behind the alleyway-" "KARMA!"

#ansatsu kyoushitsu #Ansatsu Kyoushitsu #Karma Akabane #Nagisa Shiota #x reader #sister reader #little sister reader #family #imagines #child reader #x child reader #x little sister reader #Koro-Sensei #Assassination Classroom #assassination classroom #Assassination Classroom Nagisa Shiota #Assassination Classroom Koro-Sensei #assassination classroom karma akabane #assassination classroom nagisa shiota #assassination classroom koro-sensei #Ansatsu Kyoushitsi Karma Akabane #Ansatsu Kyoushitsu Nagisa Shiota #Ansatsu Kyoushitsu Koro-Sensei #ansatsu kyoushitsu karma akabane #ansatsu kyoushitsu nagisa shiota #ansatsu kyoushitsu koro-sensei #assassination classroom x reader #Assassination Classroom x reader

[kaeyas-beloved]

ok ok idea but like mha headcannons for either bakugo todoroki or anyone else of your choice with a s/o who isn't in the hero course or not even in UA maybe a hint of the joke " you won't know them they go to a different school" do what you like - a anon you probably won't see agian

Characters: Bakugou (Reader is gn!)

Genre: General (with undertones of crack and fluff) + HC's

Warnings: Minor swearing

a/n: Hi anon who I'll apparently never see again! Thank you for the request, I hope you enjoy! Sorry for the long wait 😅

I only did Bakugou for this, hope that's alright! Maybe in the future when requests are open you or someone else can request for Todo and/or others! (if I still write for my hero when that happens) Also! I added both how Baku's friends find out/react and then general points on how the relationship is!

Bakugou w/ a S/O that doesn't go to UA

Heheheh poor Baku

You decided to text him since you were at home and bored and knew he was on lunch (your school had a day off while his didn't). Which is kinda bad considering all his friends the extras at his table started asking questions and teasing him.

"Oooo who is it?" Mina asked, already leaning over the table, trying to catch a glimpse at the contact.

Kaminari, of course, jokingly adds that it might be his secret lover. Relationships are the go-to for poking fun at your friends after all...

However, with the way their blond bestie retaliated, cursing just a little louder, cheeks dusted the faintest of pink, it leads the rest of the Baku-Squad to believe that Denki hit the nail on the head (for once).

So, of course, that breeds into even more teasing and pestering. At one point, while they all were hanging out in one of their rooms and the topic came up again, Bakugou spouted "you wouldn't even know them dumbass, they don't even go here!"

Yeah that didn't help in getting them off his back...

It gets to the point where, by the end of the day, the idiots have gotten on his nerves so much he finally admits who it was.

Which... didn't help in lowering the level of teasing he received either...

But! That doesn't mean they're all not shocked that Bakugou landed a s/o before them (Mina and Kaminari made sure he knew they were flabbergasted about it with their yelling).

Still, they're happy he found someone to love and be loved by. Now all they have to do it meet the lucky individual.

Relationship wise Bakugou is the kind of boyfriend to send quick texts reminding you to eat or stay hydrated when he's got a moment. He may also (if you're lucky) send good morning/night texts with his own personal touch. ('night dumbass, love you or whatever' something like that?? you all know what I mean)

Is reluctant to bring you to the dorms since he doesn't want the others to scare you or make you feel uncomfortable in anyway. He knows that some of them can be a handful at times (he knows all too well). Of course, if you even suspect that that's the issue and try to bring it up he'll vehemently deny it all (but after plenty of reassurance - that he says he doesn't need - he'll eventually cave and introduce you)

The whole class loves you btw. They see how their prickly classmate looks and acts around you.

Doesn't show it but is very conscious about his sweaty palms. You won't know about it (unless you can read him like a book) but Baku is keenly aware of how much sweat he's got on his hand and is focused part of his attention on it to make sure he doesn't accidently let off an explosion.

Unfortunately, since you go to another school you don't get to see him as often as you would if you went to UA. Dates are sort of far apart with how much he dedicates to training and schoolwork. But if you're in a relationship then you probably already knew and understand this.

If you posses a potential combat quirk dates can consist of you two sparring and giving pointers! If you don't then you can still help with training if you'd like (throwing objects at him for him to blow up, things like that).

Depending on your character Bakugou might not talk about what goes on at UA (the attacks that aren't reported on the news or ones you didn't hear of for example). He just doesn't want you to work yourself up with worry over him.

When in private Bakugou is definitely one to sling his arm over you while you cuddle up to his chest

Strikes me as the kind of guy that gives you cheek kisses. Like, nice but forceful cheek kisses, the kind that moves your head back a little just from how much force he puts into it.

Very perspective so he's very in-tune with how you may be feeling and does his best to make you feel better (it just may not seem like it at first)

I uh this might not be the best? Sorry 😓

Tag list: @tickotaku // @decora-peaches // @dorkylittleweirdo //@thylocalcrackhead // @that-enby-alien

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[duckymcdoorknob]

HELLO if u still do emergency requests, could you write Suna and Oikawa when their s/o is going through a depressive episode, but feels responsible for their friend who's going through the same thing? like, they can hardly take care of themselves but is terrified of their friend taking their own life and burns themselves out trying to help them? its getting really overwhelming..

if this makes no sense just delete this ask 😅

I think I’ll jump to this one because I’m really feeling for this rn!!

Thank you for reaching out to me, and sorry about the long wait!

I hope you’re feeling any bit better. If not, tomorrow is a brand new day and full of amazing opportunities.

Feel free to vent in my dms!!

CW BELOW THE CUT: depressive episode, burntout reader.

𝑅𝑖𝑛𝑡𝑎𝑟𝑜 𝑆𝑢𝑛𝑎

Suna saw in an instant that you were a little less peppy than you usually were.

You had always found the bright side of things, no matter what issue.

Your usual smile? Faltered after what seemed to be a second of forcing it.

He saw that you weren’t okay.

But why was this?

As time went by, he saw you hastily texting, frantically searching the web, and calling someone.

During lunch he was finally able to catch you in the courtyard, on the phone.

“How are you feeling today? Did you get dressed? Drink enough water?”

The lethargy in your voice was evident that something was really wrong.

“I have the work you’ve been missing, plus the notes… okay maybe I stayed up a little late to do them… no (name), I’m completely fine. I’m just worried about you feeling better… okay… yep… alright, I’ll call you soon, bye.”

He ever so slowly approached you, placing a gentle hand on your shoulder.

Tensing up, you shudder and jump at the sudden contact.

Suna’s features fell into a frown, eyebrows knitting in concern. “Hey, you.”

“Hey, Suna.”

“Come, sit with me.” He beckoned as he led you toward a dry patch of grass by a large tree. When he sits down, he opens his legs and pats the space in between them, “sit.”

As you begrudgingly went to sit, and laid your head on his waist, Suna immediately began to run his fingers through your hair, “So tell me. What’s been going on in that mind of yours.”

“Oh.“ clearly taken aback, you ponder on your next choice of words, “(Name) is… sick, and I’m just a bit worried about them is all.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

“Hm. Well, something isn’t quite adding up for me here…” he ponders out loud

“Why do you say that?” You cock your head in confusion.

“You’re just a bit worried? Does that explain why your eyes look like they hurt every time you close them?”

Your breath hitched.

“Does that explain why you sound like you’re three seconds away from falling asleep?” He snapped

You held your tongue, not wanting to worry him.

Eventually, he began to hear you sniffle beneath him, so he sat upright and alert, now next to you with a hand on your shoulder.

“I’m sorry,

“What’s been happening lately?”

You undesirably spilled everything that had been on your mind, while Suna listened intently.

The volleyball player closed his eyes, because he figured it would be easier to take in what you were saying.

“I’m just terrified to sleep, Rin. I’m worried that I’ll get the call and I won’t be awake for it.”

“I know that you’re both best friends, and that you care for them more than anyone in the world, but you aren’t responsible for the actions of others. I’m not here to tell you ‘everything is gonna be okay’ because that’s not what friends do.”

“But what if-“

“I don’t like lying, especially in a time like this. So, if anything were to happen to (Name), it wouldn’t be your fault, nor should you blame yourself for it. You can try to help someone, but the second you prioritize them over yourself, it just isn’t helping either of you.”

“I can’t help but think about a future without them…”

“I understand…” he whispers, pulling you close to his body, “But you need to prioritize your own health before assisting others.”

“Rin-“

“So please…” he mumbled, laying down in the grass with you resting on his chest, “Rest.”

With a sigh, you nuzzle close to him as he puts his arms down over you.

“I’ll wake you up when lunch is over. You deserve a break.”

“Thank you, Rin.”

With a small hum of approval, Suna slowly rubbed your shoulder with his hand, making sure that you felt safe and protected.

𝑇𝑜𝑜𝑟𝑢 𝑂𝑖𝑘𝑎𝑤𝑎

While Oikawa does seem to have the emotional capacity of a shopping bag, he’s actually quite sympathetic.

So the second you replied to him differently than usual…

And I mean s e c o n d

He knew that something was very wrong.

Of course, like any rational human, he deduced that it wouldn’t be best to pester you by saying “You didn’t call me a douche like you usually do, who hurt you?”

So, he did what any very sane and very rational human would do: he stalked you.

Now don’t get him wrong, he meant it out of pure worry and love for you.

Oikawa spent the day, hovering around classrooms that you were in, casually walking past your locker thirty times a day, and also making sure to sit with you at lunch.

As if he didn’t already sit with you every day, but he wanted to make it known that he was there for you.

He walked up to you with excitement in his eyes, noticing your unusually somber demeanor.

“Hi, (Y/N)-Chan! Are we good to eat outside today?” He coos, smiling excitedly at the thought of sitting in the sunlight.

Instead of replying, you barely noticed him sitting next to you, and were instead left with your phone and messages. You scroll through the long list of messages that someone had sent to you.

“Sweetheart? Who’s sending you essays?” He teased, placing a gentle hand on your knee.

You choked on the inhale you were taking, jumping slightly and straining your muscles suddenly.

“Holy sh- love? Are you okay?” He moved quickly to squat in front of you.

“I’m…” you blinked a few times and shook your head, “sorry. What did you ask?” 

“(Y/N), when was the last time you’ve slept decently?”

“Yes.”

Sighing, Oikawa sat next to you again and interwound your fingers. “What in the name of the gods is going on? What are you keeping hidden?”

“Everything’s okay. Just haven’t slept the best, since (name)’s been sick.”

“Sick?” He cocked a single eyebrow in disbelief.

“Yeah. I just want them to know I’m here for them.”

“Ah, that kind of sick.” He came to the realization aloud.

“W-wait no! They’re fine! I swear!” You grew slightly defensive as your panic rose, “shit they’re gonna be so mad I told.” You whispered.

“Why would they be mad at you, dove?”

“I’m worried they won’t be here soon!” You finally blurted as tears rushed to your eyes, “I can’t sleep at night anymore because I’m so worried I’ll get the call, or they’ll try to talk to me and I won’t be there to keep them from- gods, Tooru it would be all my fault!”

Oikawa turned toward you and wordlessly engulfed you in his arms, running his hand along the back of your head as he shushed you. “All will be okay.” He whispered.

“But what if-“

“No buts. You can’t possibly think that you are the one making their choices. What they do falls on them. I’m not saying to not help them, because I know how tough times like these can get. But, if you’re not doing well yourself, how can you help others?”

“I know…” you sniffled as you spoke, “But what if I miss the call! I can’t help but feel responsible.”

“I assure you that you won’t be responsible. They’re an understanding person and they have to respect your boundaries. If they are keeping you at bay with this, and not respecting how exhausted you are, then I’m sorry they just aren’t a good friend. I know it’s hard to deduce because of the state they’re in, but you really need to help yourself first.”

“…Okay.” You finally replied, giving into his advice.

“There’s my sweet love. Why don’t you talk to the office and the two of us can go home for the rest of the day. We can watch movies and have a day where you can just do what you’d like.”

“Even sleep?”

He chuckled, “Even sleep.”

—————♡︎✞♡︎✞♡︎✞♡︎✞♡︎✞♡︎✞♡︎✞♡︎✞♡︎✞♡︎—————

#haikyuu #haikyu!! #haikyu #haikyuu!! #haikyuu suna #hq #hq suna #hq Oikawa #haikyuu Oikawa #suna comfort #Oikawa comfort #haikyuu comfort #hq comfort #haikyuu emergency requests #ducky’s emergency requests #suna rintaro imagine #suna rinatro #rintaro suna #oikawa tooru imagine #tooru oikawa imagine #tooru Oikawa x reader #Oikawa x reader #Oikawa imagine #suna x reader #suna rintaro x reader #rintaro suna x reader #haikyuu x reader imagine #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu x reader comfort #emergency requests