#Glass Rooms in Dubai

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Crystal Clear Ambiance: Enhance Your Home’s Aesthetics With Glass Rooms

Modern living's architectural landscape is constantly changing as a result of innovation, creativity, and the pursuit of aesthetic perfection. One of the most captivating trends that has taken the world of interior design by storm is the installation of glass rooms. In Dubai, where luxury and sophistication are paramount, glass rooms symbolize luxury and elegance. These structures seamlessly blend the beauty of nature with the comforts of indoor living, offering residents a unique and immersive experience. This blog delves into the fascinating world of glass rooms in Dubai and how they enhance home aesthetics and transform living spaces.

The Fascination Of The Glass Rooms

Glass rooms, also called glass annexes or sunrooms, are architectural marvels consisting mainly of glass walls and often glass roofs, allowing an unobstructed view of the surrounding landscape. They are designed to seamlessly integrate the outdoors with the indoors, providing a tranquil and inviting space to relax, entertain, and enjoy the natural light.

In a city like Dubai, where warm temperatures and plenty of sunshine characterize the climate, glass rooms offer a perfect solution for enjoying the outdoors without sacrificing comfort. A glass room installation in Dubai allows residents to enjoy the beauty of nature all year while being protected from the harsh elements.

The Dubai Aesthetics

Dubai is synonymous with luxury, elegance, and modernity. The city's architecture is a testament to its commitment to innovation and design excellence. Glass rooms in Dubai are no exception. They are designed to complement the city's aesthetic with sleek lines, minimalist design and an emphasis on spaciousness. The use of high-quality materials and precise engineering ensures that these glass structures not only enhance the beauty of a home but also elevate its overall value.

Embrace Nature

One of the most fascinating aspects of glass rooms in Dubai is their ability to create a seamless transition between indoor and outdoor spaces. Dubai's breathtaking skyline, serene desert vistas, and azure waters can all be enjoyed from the comfort of a glass room. These spaces become an oasis of calm where residents can watch the sunset, enjoy the city lights, or relax with a book.

In addition, the natural light in glass-enclosed spaces provides several health benefits, including improved mood, increased productivity, and better sleep quality. The abundance of sunlight creates a sense of openness and warmth, making glass rooms ideal for gatherings or spending time with family and friends.

Personalization and Functionality

Glass rooms in Dubai can be customized for various purposes, making them a versatile addition to any home. Glass rooms can be tailored to your needs, whether you envision a cozy reading nook, an indoor garden, an entertainment space, or even a home office with breathtaking views.

With the ability to install retractable roofs or sliding glass panels, Dubai residents can effortlessly transform their glass rooms from open-air pavilions to climate-controlled sanctuaries. This adaptability ensures that the space remains functional and comfortable all year.

Sustainability and Energy Efficiency

Installing glass rooms in your home can also positively impact the environment. Modern glass technologies provide exceptional insulation that helps maintain optimal indoor temperatures while reducing the need for excessive air conditioning. Because the space is flooded with abundant natural light, glass rooms minimize reliance on artificial lighting during daylight hours, reducing energy consumption.

Reputable Glass Room Construction Company In Dubai

Four Seasons Glass Rooms have revolutionized the concept of residential aesthetics in Dubai. Their ability to blend the beauty of nature with the comforts of indoor living has created an unparalleled living experience for residents. The city continues to embrace architectural innovation; the glass room construction company in Dubai stands as a testament to its commitment to luxury, sustainability, and design excellence. Whether gazing out at the city's iconic skyline or basking in the serenity of the desert, glass rooms offer a heavenly ambience that genuinely enhances the quality of life in this remarkable city.

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How Can Outdoor Shades in Dubai Reduce Energy Costs in Your Home?

Living in Dubai entails not only cultural changes and adaptation but also coping with high temperatures for a long period which can complicate the issue of cooling indoor environments. As air-conditioned spaces become the norm within the year, the associated costs could also arise to a significant amount. For this reason, homeowners in various parts of Dubai are searching for green technology and its cheaper alternatives that would help keep the indoor climate temperate without much reliance on air conditioning. One of the solutions that work well are Outdoor shades.

By incorporating outdoor shades on your property, the amount of heat that gets absorbed can be minimized, energy levels saved and overall house satisfaction enhanced. In this blog, we will highlight the reasons why outdoor shades are beneficial and how they help save energy for the residents of Dubai.

What Are Outdoor Shades and How Do They Work?

Outdoor shades are structures designed to shade the windows, walls, and any other surfaces of a house by preventing direct sunlight from entering. There are several designs available for these such as exposed pergolas, shade sails, or even retractable awnings, all of which serve the purpose of providing optimal shading and added beauty. If correctly placed, outdoor shades can reduce heat gain during summer months, creating a more comfortable interior environment and lowering dependence on air conditioning.

For homeowners in Dubai, choosing outdoor shades from Most trusted Pergola Builder, Manufacturers and construction company in Dubai offers not only reliable quality but also durability, as these shades are crafted to withstand the region’s high temperatures and strong UV exposure.

Benefits of Outdoor Shades for Reducing Energy Costs

1. Blocks Heat Gain through Windows and Walls

Skyrocketing temperatures in Dubai can be primarily attributed to the overwhelming amounts of sunlight especially in glass surfaces such as windows. In cases, where these surfaces are provided with outdoor shades, such shades shield the interior of the home, and thus also reduce the heat transfer into the home, helping to keep it cooler. The higher the temperature inside, due to less heat entering, the less the AC has to work, which in turn, aids in reducing cooling costs.

2. Reduces Dependence on Air Conditioning

The installation of outdoor shades means that you can depend less on air conditioning. The shaded regions tend to remain cooler naturally owing to the fact that interior areas do not heat up as fast or as much. A study conducted by the U.S. Department of Energy has found that the use of appropriate shades can reduce cooling requirements by 15-30% on average which markedly reduces the energy burden in the long term.

3. Protects Indoor Furnishings from UV Damage

Outdoor shades provide an added benefit of protecting the indoor space from strong ultraviolet rays that can be harmful to the belongings and lead to fading. Even flooring can be affected by UV rays, which can be very expensive to replace after some years. In this sense, outdoor shades are energy-saving as well as support the interior of the house.

Types of Outdoor Shades and Their Energy-Saving Benefits

1. Pergolas

Pergolas do not just offer shading but also beautify the outdoors in an elegant way. They are multifaceted and can be used to screen off patios, driveways, or walkways from the sun that rays directly hit the house entryways. Consult the leading pergola Contractors in UAE and you will be able to construct bespoke pergolas that match perfectly with the design of your residence.

2. Shade Sails

The ability to install shade sails in numerous outdoor areas including patios, carports, and gardens has made them a contemporary yet elastic design choice. Edifices walls and windows are shielded from direct sunlight thereby minimizing the amount of heat absorbed. These shades tend to suit those homeowners who want maximum coverage with a stylish finish.

3. Retractable Awnings

Retractable awnings offer the advantage of adjustability. They can be extended when the sun is at its peak and retracted during cooler hours. This flexibility allows homeowners to control the level of shading and therefore the amount of heat that enters their homes, maximizing energy savings while providing customizable comfort.

4. Green Wall Shading

Another eco-friendly option is wall shading with climbing vegetation, where structures are hidden from sun rays by growing plants on them. This option is beneficial in that it is visually pleasing and helps in reducing surrounding temperature of the house.

How Outdoor Shades Save Energy in Dubai’s Climate?

Lower Ambient Temperature

It is evident that the average temperature outside the house decreases when the exposed areas such as the lawn or the garden are provided with shades. This aspect is especially useful in hot climates where courtyards, driveways, or even garden spaces tend to border or are enclosed with walls, therefore transmitting heat into the house. Such measures help to reduce the number of these “hot spots”, which in turn minimizes the overall heat gain and thus improves the effectiveness of refrigerating apparatus.

Reduced Peak Electricity Demand

Summer months tend to see an increase in energy cost since more people use air conditioning, causing an increase in demand. Installing outdoor shades cuts back on the usage of an air conditioning unit especially during the middle of the day. Reduced peak electricity demand has positive effects on costs at a wider scale, which may be advantageous to homeowners and also the ecology.

Sustainable Energy Solution

Making use of shading is an environmentally assistive step towards reducing energy consumption. It reduces dependence on fossil fuels and complements sustainable energy use. This approach helps keep a house warm or cool year-round with minimal maintenance.

Tips for Installation and Maintenance to Maximize Energy Efficiency

1. Choose the Right Placement

For maximum impact, outdoor shades should be placed where they can block the most sunlight, such as west-facing windows or patio doors. Consulting with experts at top pergola manufacturers in Dubai ensures you receive expert guidance on optimal placement for effective shading.

2. Invest in Quality Materials

Outdoor shades in Dubai face intense sun, sand, and wind exposure. It’s essential to select durable materials that can withstand these elements. High-quality fabrics and materials are worth the investment to ensure your shades remain effective and long-lasting.

3. Regular Cleaning and Maintenance

Keeping your shades clean and well-maintained ensures they remain efficient. Dust and debris buildup can impact fabric or material performance, so regular cleaning is recommended. For wooden pergolas or metal structures, consider annual treatments to prevent wear.

Facts and Data on Outdoor Shade Energy Savings

Energy Reduction: Homes with outdoor shading structures report up to 25% savings on cooling costs annually.

Temperature Control: Properly shaded areas can be up to 10-15°C cooler than unshaded areas.

UV Protection: Outdoor shades can block up to 98% of UV rays, offering strong sun protection. This helps shield both indoor furnishings and occupants from sun exposure.

These figures highlight the effectiveness of outdoor shades in reducing energy costs. They prove to be a worthwhile investment in Dubai’s hot climate.

Conclusion:

Outdoor shades provide homeowners in Dubai with a stylish, practical solution to rising energy costs. By reducing direct sunlight and blocking UV rays, they create a cooler, more comfortable environment. This lowers reliance on air conditioning and saves on energy bills. As Leading Pergola Professionals in Dubai and Across UAE, 800Pergola specializes in designing and installing high-quality, custom shading solutions that enhance your home’s efficiency and aesthetics.

Ready to explore how outdoor shades can help you save? Contact 800Pergola today at +971-56-96-56-555 / inquiry@800pergola.com and discover our range of durable, beautiful shading options perfect for Dubai’s climate.

OFFICE Address –

Office #60, M. Floor, Al Fajer Building, Airport Road, Al Garhoud, Dubai- United Arab Emirates

Mobile: 056 96 56 555 / 055 380 5148

Email: inquiry@800pergola.com

Website - https://800pergola.com/

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The Ultimate Guide to Pergolas in Dubai: Enhance Your Outdoor Living Space

Introduction

In Dubai’s home designs, pergolas presented themselves as an imminent outdoor element. They formed various outdoor rooms that took into consideration some or all of the following ideas: repurposing covers from shipping containers to make private courtyards with greenery, landscaping, and seawater pool makeovers. They can optimally achieve this by incorporating the key function of shading; meanwhile, their diversity and uniqueness can draw in the eye and the gaze away from the other features to this central concern. The homeowners in the whole city are the large numbers that are enthusiastically adopting them, since they are a simple way to upgrade the value of their premises. But now that the concept has been clearly explained the System of Ecotourism Stations is in the process of seeking funding from the state to cover the expenses and provide other resources to implement the Project.

Why Choose a Pergola?

More than just providing shade, a pergola turns your outdoor area into a chic and comfortable haven. Pergolas improve the visual attractiveness of your garden or backyard by defining spaces for alfresco dining, lounging, or socializing. A pergola is the ideal architectural element to enhance your exterior, regardless of whether your home is modern or more conventional in style. Additionally, pergolas in Dubai can raise your home's worth property, which makes them a wise long-term investment. They make your terrace or backyard a pleasant area of the house all year round by providing shade, letting in air, and enabling you to expand your living area outside.

Popular Styles of Pergolas

Pergolas' adaptability guarantees that they may be incorporated into any style. When designing a pergola, take into account these common styles

Traditional Wooden Pergolas: Wooden pergolas are timeless and sophisticated, and they look great with verdant gardens, giving the outside space a cozy feel. But for wood to withstand Dubai's harsh sun, regular upkeep is necessary.

Modern Aluminum Pergolas: Aluminum pergolas seem sleek and modern, making them ideal for people who prefer simple, uncluttered designs. They need little upkeep, are strong, and are lightweight making them perfect for the severe weather in Dubai.

Hybrid Pergolas: Blending metal and wood components, hybrid pergolas provide a harmonious combination of robustness, longevity, and visual appeal, enabling the creation of customized designs that suit a variety of architectural styles.

Materials Used for Pergolas

The weather in Dubai should be taken into account while choosing the material for your pergola. You need materials that are resistant to the intense heat, humidity, and sporadic sandstorms

Wood: Wood adds coziness and organic beauty to a pergola, but it needs to be maintained with frequent staining or sealing to maintain its finest appearance.

Aluminum: Pergolas made of aluminum are incredibly strong, light, and resistant to rust. They are easy to maintain and resistant to Dubai's intense heat and UV rays.

Vinyl: Pergolas made of vinyl provide an economical and low-maintenance option, but they might not have the classic beauty of wood or the contemporary appearance of aluminum.

Installation Tips

The design of your outdoor area and the direction of the sun should be taken into account when deciding whether to create a pergola in Dubai. For optimal shade and visual appeal, positioning is crucial. Make sure your pergola has adequate room for patio furniture and blends well with your home's current architecture. Even though do-it-yourself kits are available, employing experts is frequently the best way to get a high-quality finish. Professionals can assist you with personalized designs that include Dubai's distinct climate and terrain.

Maintenance of Pergolas

Regular maintenance is crucial to preserving the durability and aesthetic appeal of your pergola in Dubai Wooden pergolas require regular maintenance, such as sealing or repainting, depending on the type, to guard against sun and moisture damage. Pergolas made of vinyl and aluminum require less maintenance, but they will stay dust- and dirt-free with regular cleaning. Your pergola's lifespan may be extended and its appearance maintained for years in Dubai's hot and dry environment by searching for wear indicators and making sure it is cleaned properly after sandstorms.

Conclusion

In Dubai, adding a pergola to your outdoor space not only raises the value of your home but also turns your terrace or backyard into a welcoming and useful living space. Pergolas are the ideal way to enjoy the outdoors in elegance, whether you choose a modern aluminum design or a more classic wooden one and ease.

Are you prepared to add a bespoke pergola in Dubai to your outside area? For professional design and installation services that will realize your idea, get in touch with Four Seasons right now!

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Glass Room Dubai

Zealcon: Transforming Your Space with Glass Rooms in Dubai

Unveiling the Beauty and Functionality of Glass

In Dubai's vibrant landscape, homeowners and businesses alike are constantly seeking innovative ways to enhance their properties. Zealcon, a leading glass and aluminum company, steps forward with their exquisite glass room solutions, offering a perfect blend of elegance and functionality.

Embrace the Light: A Brighter Lifestyle Awaits

Zealcon's glass rooms are more than just extensions; they're an invitation to a lifestyle bathed in natural light. Imagine mornings filled with sunshine, fostering a sense of possibility. Picture family gatherings bathed in the warm glow of the setting sun, creating lasting memories. Let the gentle whispers of the breeze fill your tranquil moments of solitude. Zealcon's glass masterpieces bring the beauty of the outdoors seamlessly into your living space.

Crafted with Precision: Engineering Excellence

Zealcon doesn't compromise on quality. Their glass rooms are meticulously crafted using state-of-the-art engineering and cutting-edge materials. High-grade powder-coated aluminum ensures durability and a virtually maintenance-free experience. Precision engineering guarantees structural integrity and energy efficiency, making these glass havens perfect for Dubai's climate.

Tailored to Perfection: Bespoke Designs for Every Need

Zealcon understands that every space is unique. That's why they offer a wide range of customizable options.  Whether you envision a sunroom, a conservatory, or a luxurious glass enclosure, their team of experts will work closely with you to create a design that perfectly complements your existing architecture.

Innovation Meets Functionality: A World of Possibilities

Zealcon's glass rooms extend beyond aesthetics. They offer innovative solutions for homes, offices, and even gardens. Imagine transforming your unused patio into a delightful entertaining area. Create a serene workspace bathed in natural light, fostering creativity and productivity.  Embrace the outdoors year-round, protected from the elements, while maintaining a connection with nature.

Experience the Zealcon Difference

Zealcon's commitment to quality goes beyond their products. They pride themselves on exceptional customer service. From the initial consultation to the final installation, their team ensures a seamless and stress-free experience.

Zealcon: Your Gateway to a Brighter Future

If you're looking to elevate your living or working environment in Dubai, look no further than Zealcon.  Visit their website or contact them today to explore the world of possibilities that await you with a Zealcon glass room. Let them transform your space and usher in a brighter lifestyle.

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where elegance meets functionality. Elevate your outdoor living experience with our innovative design that seamlessly integrates a stylish pergola with the sophistication of a glass room. 

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Loft-Style - Living Room

An illustration of a sizable, modern, loft-style living room with gray walls.

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Unveiling the Expertise of Real Estate Agents in Doha, Qatar: Your Guide to Successful Property Transactions

When it comes to navigating the bustling real estate market in Doha, Qatar, having the support of a skilled and knowledgeable real estate agent is invaluable. Whether you're buying, selling, or renting property in this vibrant city, real estate agents in Doha can provide you with the expertise and guidance needed to make informed decisions and achieve your goals. In this blog post, we will delve into the role and significance of real estate agents in Doha, Qatar, and offer insights on how they can enhance your property transactions.

The Importance of Real Estate Agents in Doha, Qatar

In-depth Knowledge of the Local Market: Real estate agents in Doha possess an in-depth understanding of the local market dynamics, including neighborhood trends, property values, and upcoming developments. Their knowledge allows them to provide valuable insights and advice tailored to your specific requirements and preferences.

Extensive Network and Connections: Established real estate agents in Doha have a vast network of industry professionals, including property developers, lawyers, financiers, and other experts. These connections can prove instrumental in accessing exclusive listings, securing financing options, and obtaining additional services related to your real estate needs.

Guidance through the Legal Process: Navigating the legal intricacies of property transactions in Qatar can be complex and time-consuming. A skilled real estate agent will ensure that all legal requirements are met, paperwork is handled accurately, and negotiations are conducted smoothly. Their expertise ensures a seamless process while protecting your interests.

Efficient Property Search: Real estate agents have access to comprehensive databases and tools that enable them to efficiently search for properties that match your criteria. They can save you valuable time by curating a list of suitable options and arranging property viewings based on your preferences.

How to Find the Right Real Estate Agent in Doha, Qatar

Conduct Thorough Research: Begin by conducting thorough research online to identify reputable real estate agents in Doha. Visit their websites, read reviews, and testimonials from previous clients to gauge their reputation, experience, and level of customer satisfaction.

Seek Recommendations: Reach out to friends, family, or colleagues who have recently engaged the services of a real estate agent in Doha. Their recommendations and personal experiences can help you find trustworthy professionals who have proven their capabilities.

Verify Credentials: Ensure that the real estate agent or agency you are considering is licensed and registered with the relevant authorities in Qatar. This verification assures that you are working with a legitimate professional who adheres to the regulations and ethics of the industry.

Interview Multiple Agents: It is advisable to interview multiple real estate agents to assess their expertise and compatibility with your needs. During these interviews, discuss your requirements, inquire about their experience in Doha's real estate market, and assess their communication and negotiation skills.

Evaluate Local Market Knowledge: Choose an agent who demonstrates a deep understanding of the local Doha market. They should be familiar with the city's various neighborhoods, amenities, infrastructure, and property trends. Their local market expertise can help you make informed decisions and seize advantageous opportunities.

Conclusion

Real estate agents in Doha, Qatar play a vital role in ensuring successful property transactions. Their in-depth knowledge of the local market, extensive networks, and guidance through the legal processes provide you with a competitive advantage in navigating the dynamic real estate landscape of Doha. By conducting thorough research, seeking recommendations, and verifying credentials, you can find a reliable and experienced real estate agent who will be your trusted partner throughout your property journey. With their expertise by your side, you can confidently embark on your real estate ventures in Doha, Qatar, and achieve your property goals with ease.clcik here https://www.urbancapitalqatar.com/

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Cooking Set Online

Upgrade your kitchen game with our premium cooking sets available online. Shop now for durable and high-quality cookware that will last a lifetime. Whether you're a beginner or a seasoned chef, our collection has everything you need to create delicious meals at home. 

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Captivated

The Vampire Armand x gn!reader

Warnings: 18+ MDNI, some biting, mention of blood, smut, spit as lube, penetration but no gender mentioned.

Summary: You decide to go home with Armand, PWP, 3.1k words

a/n: human reader (not a vampire) but not described (inclusive!reader), no specified location, probably not Dubai, modern but no time stated however I decided vampires have announced themselves (like late TVC book canon), I headcanon Armand as a sub but to make this an inclusive gn reader he’s a bit of a switch.

Special thanks to the amazing @aemondsbabe for all the help listening to ideas and letting me fangirl!

You followed him down the hallway. The apartment building was modern and austere. Your footsteps echoed off the bare walls. The liminal quality of the empty space at this early-late hour was unnerving and exhilarating. Everyone in the building asleep except the two of you. Armand walked slowly, but still a few steps ahead of you. He could feel your anxiety, but he could also feel your curiosity. It intrigued him.

Armand unlocked and opened the door, holding it for you to enter after he had stepped inside. The air was cool and made you shiver, compounding your exhilaration. A nagging part of your mind still wondered what you could possibly be thinking, accepting an offer to come back to a vampire’s home with him. When the door closed and locked behind you the sense of dread seemed to deepen momentarily. Then you felt Armand’s hand on your lower back. You exhaled. He stepped in front of you and his gentle smile and calm face soothed your trepidation. You pulled your eyes up from his lips to meet his gaze. His smile reached the corners of his eyes and made you feel… safe? Before you had time to decide if that was the feeling he spoke.

“Shall I make you a drink?” He moved away from you, sliding his hand from your back to your hip and then walking away. “I make a lovely martini.” His voice trailed behind him. You stepped out of your fear and walked toward him. He eyed the shape of your body under your clothes as you approached. He hadn’t intended to meet anyone tonight and was predominately a creature of habit, but you had approached him so confidently. It was difficult to dismiss you.

“I, um,” you cleared your throat. “No, thank you. I almost had too many at the bar. Maybe a glass of water, if you don’t mind that is.”

“Of course not,” he smiled at you again. That smile had drawn you across the bar to him, that and his presence. He commanded any room he was in by being the most mysterious yet unassuming person in it. It was easy to not notice him at first, but when you had looked closer you felt a magnetic pull. You only acted on it when he gave you that exact smile.

You looked around the large room, kitchen and living room open and uncluttered. Ice clinked in a glass behind you, water poured over it, not from the tap. Bottled water, of course. You smiled briefly. Before you could register the sound of his footsteps he was beside you. You took the glass he offered and sipped. Your mouth was dry, but not from thirst. You licked water from your lips and saw him watching. His eyes were the only unnerving part of him. They caught you off guard if you looked away from him for too long. But when he looked at you like that they were beguiling and you wondered what he was thinking. It was more than hunger. You both knew that.

You set your glass on the countertop and walked toward the plate glass window. The view was spectacular, expensive. You marveled at the city lights, pretending to be more interested in them than in Armand. You tried desperately to keep your nerves under control, but it was little use.

“Lovely, isn’t it?” You jumped a bit as he spoke. His voice was soft, but you hadn’t heard him approach this time. “I enjoy seeing the movement of humans around me. Thriving, suffering, toiling, never quite satisfied so they strive for more greatness. Cities have always enchanted me, that ambition is better seen nowhere else.”

“Do you have a favorite?” You turned to look at him. He stared out the window but he was no longer seeing.

“Yes,” he replied dreamily. “Venice. But not the Venice you will ever know. Venice was once the most beautiful place on earth for me.” He closed his eyes and shook his head. “We didn’t come here to talk of Venice, did we?”

You swallowed dryly as he turned to look at you. There was a moment’s hesitation, Armand waiting, you deciding, then you stepped toward him and placed your hand on his waist. He smiled again, but this one didn’t reach his eyes. Moving with slow deliberation, he brushed his fingers across your cheek and down your neck. Your lips parted and his eyes flicked down, then back up to yours. His gravity was too strong, his allure too overwhelming. His fingers slid to the back of your neck and you leaned forward. Your lips barely touched his at first. Then he closed the distance. His fingers tightened on the back of your neck. A small moan escaped your mouth and you stopped the impulse to slide your hand to his back and pull his body against yours. Something about this man made you want to wait, be patient, savor him.

Instead you ran your tongue over his bottom lip as you kissed, begging for entrance. He allowed it. You felt one of his fangs and almost pulled back at the sensation. But when he moaned you crushed your lips against his, spurred on by his response to the faint taste of copper from the scratch on your tongue. Armand’s free hand flew to your hip, fingers digging in through your clothing as he kissed you back fiercely. He felt the stirrings of human desire begin after the taste of your blood. It was never as satisfying as drinking, but it was more than merely pleasant. He wanted as much from you as you were willing to give but he would not allow himself to rush. He was ancient and patient. But he could be insistent and he encouraged you with his hands, his mouth. The press of his tongue against yours, the coolness of his lips slowly warming from your heat, the way he clenched and unclenched his fingers on your skin, made the ache in your core begin to coil tighter like a spring. Then he slowly began to pull back from you. You opened your eyes, lightheaded from need.

With some hesitation, you raised your hand to his cheek, cupping it in your palm. Armand almost closed his eyes before you moved your hand to his jaw, his neck. Your fingers delved into his hair, tangling in the curls, and you tugged gently. He lifted his chin. You placed your mouth against the cool skin of his neck, feeling his pulse beneath your lips. You let your teeth graze him and he inhaled sharply. You pressed your teeth harder into the unyielding flesh. His hands pulled at you, finally molding your bodies together. The familiar longing tugged at Armand’s chest. He allowed himself to get lost in the feeling of your teeth. Though they were harmless, impotent, he felt a rush from your mouth on his neck to the base of his spine. You fisted more of his dark curls in your fingers as you bit down. His hand trailed down your neck, your arm, your side. He had both his hands on your hips, kneading steadily. You moaned. His strength was obvious, but he had tempered it, restrained it. You weren’t sure if you wanted his restraint.

As you slid your mouth down his neck, letting your teeth drag against him, you moved your hand to the small of his back. When you rolled your hips against him that fantastic ache surged in you again. You lifted your head and exhaled. You looked at him as you pulled your fingers out of his hair and rested your hand on his shoulder. His eyes had a mournful quality for a moment, then his countenance shifted and he began to guide you backward to the couch. For only an instant he had been disappointed that you were human, that you could not finish what you had started. He knew you had seen it, but he pushed it aside, choosing to revel in your warmth and mortality. Your calves hit the cushions, but he didn’t let you sit yet. He released you from his grip and stepped back. He raised one eyebrow.

You felt your face go hot as understanding dawned. Slowly, you removed your shirt, watching Armand’s face. You toed off your shoes and slid your pants off. As you stood in front of him, naked, a tendril of anticipation swept from your chest to your core. He took you in with a quick glance. The need in his veins had finally settled at the base of his cock. He began to unbutton his shirt as he stepped closer to you. You slipped your hands inside his open shirt and gently pushed it off his shoulders while he unfastened his belt and trousers. He let your fingers rove over his chest and stomach as he finished undressing. But the moment he was done, before you could catch more than a glimpse of his sculpted form, he crashed into you. Still not using his full strength, he pushed you back onto the sofa. He didn’t let you fall, you glided back, feeling nearly weightless. He wouldn’t hurt you, but what he had thought might not happen with a human was suddenly overwhelming.

Armand’s skin was cool against yours, but it felt amazing. Your hands roamed eagerly over his body as he kissed your neck, your shoulder, your chest. You dug your fingers into his shoulder blades as he brushed his lips across your nipples. You could hear your heart pounding and fleetingly wondered what it might sound like to him. This thought was torn out of your mind when you felt his hand move between you. You groaned and bit your bottom lip as his fingers found the root of your arousal. The last few moments had passed so quickly that you had barely registered the increasing need you felt. But now your attention was focused on his fingers moving between your thighs, as well as the feeling of his cock, hard against your belly. His soft sighs were barely audible as he continued licking and kissing you. You ran your hand through his hair, drug your nails down his neck, and elicited a moan from him that vibrated through you. You pushed your hips against his hand and felt sudden, overwhelming urgency.

“Armand…” you said his name breathlessly.

“Yes?” The single word muffled by your skin against his mouth. You moaned quietly, summoning the courage to say it outright. You thought you felt him smile. Then his hand sped up and you fought the urge to beg. You could think of one thing and one thing only.

“Please,” there was a tinge of whininess in your voice, but only a little. You dropped your voice lower. “Please fuck me.”At this he looked up at you. His expressive face, curtained by his disheveled hair, fueled your need for him.

“As you wish,” he almost grinned.

When he moved his hand to your hip you felt disappointment tempered only by anticipation. You didn’t want him to stop. His touch was feather-light as he slid one hand behind your thigh. In the same fluid movement he sat up to kneel between your legs. Exhilaration rippled through your stomach. He held your gaze as he pursed his lips and slowly dripped spit into his upturned palm. You licked your lips and writhed involuntarily. Unhurried and languidly, he stroked his cock, his hand gliding easily along his length. Even in the dim light you could see the precum as he swiped his thumb across the tip. You seemed to lift your hips each time he slid his foreskin back. Armand watched you, enjoyed drawing out your need for a few more agonizing moments. He could be infinitely patient. You could not. Your human desire for him was as attractive to him as you, your body, your presence.

Armand’s eyes slowly moved down your body. It was excruciating. The wait was interminable. You wanted to put your hands on him again, to feel his skin on yours. You both watched as he moved his hand to you, fingers deftly finding their destination. You arched your back and your hands scrabbled to find purchase on the couch. A small smirk had crept onto his face. You barely noticed. He leaned forward and grazed the head of his cock between your legs. Your breath came in short pants. You desperately reached for him as he propped himself over you, one hand on the couch by your head, the other guiding himself into you.

Armand exhaled a soft grunt. You looked up at his face, caught his gaze just before he closed his eyes. He slid his hand across your hip and pulled your leg to his side. You almost held your breath as he hooked his arm behind your knee. He was focused entirely on the exquisite feeling of sliding into you. With preternatural control, he didn’t rush. You snaked a hand into his hair and pulled his mouth down onto yours. He quite enjoyed allowing you to move him around and your urgency was intoxicating. But he could be patient enough for you both.

“Oh god,” you moaned as you broke from the kiss. You didn’t open your eyes to look at him, all your senses were concentrated on how deep he was inside you. “You feel so good Armand. I… I want…”

“Yes, you want me to hurry,” he finished for you. He made a sound that was half amusement, half resignation. “Not yet.”

His slow strokes were intense, each one bringing him closer to being fully inside you. Your hands itched to grab his ass and pull his hips into yours, but it would have been futile. Instead, you tightened your hand in his hair and lifted your lips to his again. Your other hand stroked his chest and arm, his side, and up his back. As he slid into you again, his hips keeping a steady rhythm, you could barely kiss him, doing little more than holding your open mouth against his. You dropped your head back down and looked up at him. He was watching you. For the second time this night your face flooded with heat. You held his gaze and moved your hips in time with his., gauging his reaction. He knew better than to loose control with a human, but the captivating way you looked at him almost fractured his resolve. When his hips met yours again, he stopped and ground into you. A groan came from deep in your throat as you tilted your head back. Armand watched as your neck was bared to him, watched your pulse race. With more restraint than most, he kissed the hollow of your shoulder, moving up to the side of your neck. This slight motion pushed him deeper inside you. You panted and tried to roll your hips against him.

“Mm-mm,” he chastised, lips still pressed against your neck. Supporting himself on one hand, he slid the other between your bodies again. The first touch of his fingers was electrifying. Armand was enjoying your reactions immensely. Yes, you felt amazing around his cock, but bringing these sounds from your lips and these responses from your body did more to spur him on. His tempo increased in time with the movement of his hand. He kissed you higher up on your neck, lips passing over your ear, against your cheek. His long but quick strokes hit that spot, that delicious spot, that could bring you to the edge so easily. You could think of nothing but his cock and his hand. Even his mouth was nearly forgotten until he spoke.

“That’s it,” he whispered, lips brushing your cheek again. “You’re doing so very well.” You moaned beneath him, arching your back, trying to get there, but you didn’t quite know where there was. Then Armand paused, only for a beat, and thrust forward again, fully into you. Now he was relentless, not rough but quick, keeping metronomic time. Something you had never experienced with a human. He was controlled, determined, and truly enjoying himself. He felt you clench around him and groaned into your ear. You dug your fingers into any part of him you could find as the beginnings of your climax twisted at the point where he thrust into you so steadily, but so wonderfully.

“Cum for me,” he breathed. At first you weren’t sure you heard him, then his hand sped up and the crest of your building orgasm broke. You gasped his name, breathed curses into his dark, tangled curls, and gave into the overwhelming sensations. You tried to catch your breath, but Armand didn’t stop. He pushed through your orgasm, drawing it out until he felt your body begin to relax. You shuddered as he withdrew his hand. You were too far gone, too blissful, to notice at first that he had begun moving a bit faster. The sound of his skin against yours was lewd and fantastic. You were sure you couldn’t stand this overstimulation any longer when you felt his hips falter, slow, then stop. Armand groaned and buried his face in your neck as he slid his arm from under your leg.

Your hip felt like molten lead as you lowered your leg. You had a brief moment of near-delirium when you thought that such human problems would be long behind Armand now. You stifled your laughter with a deep breath. He raised his head to look at you. You smiled and caressed his cheek. Somehow he looked younger, more at peace for a moment. He pulled back slightly and you flinched at the renewed stimulation. You prepared yourself for the inevitable. Cautiously, watching as he did so, he pulled out and guided your leg to one side. As he lay down on the couch, you rolled over to make room for him. He pressed himself against the back of the sofa and pulled you into him. His arm was warm and heavy draped around your chest.

Armand sighed as you nestled your ass against him. He curled an arm under his head to make room for you and inhaled deeply. You scent was powerful now and it reminded him of your fragility all of a sudden. He cherished that even after all these years. That a human could draw such experiences from him continued to surprise him. He drew you slightly closer to his chest. You had no thoughts at all except the feeling of his body against your back, his arm around you. You wanted to say something, anything, but words would not come. You lifted his hand to your mouth, kissed it, then laid it back across your chest.

Masterlist

[m0chisenpai]

Hi! Can you do a Armand x Fem!reader x Louis? She would be an assistant of Daniel’s. They have sorta a thing for her but are trying to ease up because she’s not as open to the whole camp thing or lowkey doesn’t believe them.

off the record

˚｡⋆ louis de pointe du lac x black!fem!reader x armand

in which Daniel neglected to coach you how to deal with the behind the scenes of the creative process

author note: I had too much fun writing this, I love the idea of this trio so much

There takes a certain level of thick skin to work for Daniel Molloy. He wasn't a terrible boss. Just a difficult old man with extremely particular needs and ways he worked. But when he found you, you were an intern with well regarded credentials and grades, but according to your counselor you were headstrong and outspoken.

He accepted your application instantly and by the next year you were his official, and most longstanding, assistant. You juggled his interviews and meetings with editors, and only recently have you begun to manage his doctors appointments.

You traveled with him, it was a non-negotiable that you were to come and expenses were covered, but Dubai was the last thing you'd expected. You’d been nearly to all the states, but for Daniel’s health anything out the country was once in a while and planned carefully.

The first night of the interview you aren’t present. Daniel can tell when he stops by your room, how your eyes droop. Your feet shuffle to greet him at the door and when you speak your words are mumbled.

He lets you sleep, but he won't say its out of care, that he's filled with guilt for dragging you into a penthouse of supernatural apex killers. "Get to sleep unless you wanna read through my mess of a notes kid." He raises a brow that you hum and nod at closing the door so you can return to the warm sheets of the bed. After that you are a fly on the wall just as he always instructed you to be.

Beside him, eyes down, fingers moving and taking notes when he mutters something to you.

Louis asks who you are on the third night, "I never took you for a man who needs help Daniel." You won't admit, but your heart picks up, but you keep yor eyes on the computer screen and let Daniel respond for you.

"Not an intern, she's one of the few ones who didn't run crying after a week working for me."

Your lips turn up at this, one of the few moments he would ever compliment you.

"She truly is like you." His eyes must be on you again, but a shiver washes dwn your spine. Like someones nail ghosts the skin on your back, trailing down your spine. And another hand, caresses the back of your neck.

"Stay out out my mind," you mumble.

"My apologies, just wanted to know about our surprise second guest." Now you dare to look up at him. Ghosts, goblins, vampires werewolves were for shows pandering toward a female audience that wanted to drool over men too beautiful and perfect to ever enter their mundane lives.

You scoff and return your focus to the notes in front of you. "Save the immortal hack for Daniel, Mr.Du Lac."

Your skin crawls at the way he tilts his head ever so slightly, and in that cocky drawl offers another apology.

"Mr Du Lac and his companion would like to dine with you."

You assume it's in regards to the interviews. You bring your computer and personal notepad along with Daniel's. But what you are met with are two wine glasses side by side paired with the men on the couch, one sits in front of them.

Their gazes are unblinking as you enter, setting your things and carefully crossing one leg over the other.

"I'm sorry we are meeting so late, or would it be early Mr.Du Lac."

"Call me Louis, the pleasure is mine. My companion Armand wanted to join our meeting this evening."

Armand creeps you out the moment your eyes lock, how his golden eyes stare you, analyzing you. He isn't as old as Louis. he actually seems to be the age of some of the TA's from school. Though you'd prefer it if it were just Louis and you. You can manage being alone with the latter.

"Daniel tells us you think none of this to be real." Ah, so it does speak.

"It's true. I find the supernatural charade boring," you pick up the yellow pad and pen. "But I'm not paid to to dig any deeper than he asks me to. I polish and prime what he asks, and he does all the writing."

"You weren't able to join the first interview because too were tired. I could hear your heart the entire time, you didn't sleep. Kept tossing and turning the entire night." Now you look at Louis, here he goes again.

"An easy observation, can we please focus on-"

"Thoughts were racing an awful lot too," Louis looks up in fake thought "is any of this worth it, why waste my time on a rich hack. I could be back home working on my portfolio."

Once again you cut him off. Pinching the bridge of your nose, "another keen observation please try and do better, now in session 2-"

"Your father took your mother here." Armand speaks up now and your heart stops, "those earrings she gifted you were from here. In fact in your dreams the previous evening you dreamt of taking them both here. You started planning it with the money that will come out of this interview."

Every word accelerates your heart, it makes Louis smile "Careful cher, your heart might beat out your chest."

Your hands shake as they swipe the glass of wine in front of you, you take two large gulps. Clutching it for comofrt.

"My apologies, I did not wish to cause any distress."

"I'm sorry, I need a moment." You leave your things behind and return to your room that night. You feel childish locking the door behind you and running to the bathroom where you stop for a moment closing that door behind you as well locking it and taking the hottest of showers. The next morning a letter from the two sits by breakfast along with your things in a neat pile.

Eerily it is exactly what you were thinking of yesterday morning, it is french toast made from the fluffiest brioche. With a side of bacon, turkey, you hated pork. Armand asks to speak to you while Daniel rests along with Louis.

Once you eat and shower quickly putting on a sweater to combat the chill you find him in the study.

He sits, almost like he knew you would come.

"It was not our intent to alarm you" his eyes follow you as you sit. "You did not rest last night because of us. Please use tonight to rest."

You refuse to look at him, favoring the thread on your sweaters sleeve.

"You are more than qualified to work for any other reporter on your own, yet you work for...him. Why?"

"He was the only one to look pass the observations of my advisor, I wasn't going to be just an errand girl. Not too many publishers cared for my opinions. I was too blunt and rough along the edges to be a writer."

"You didn't believe Mr.Molloy was interviewing a vampire yet you still followed him here."

"It's not my book. I'm a fly on the wall remember?"

"But if it were your story?"

You pause in thought, and now you look away into those unsettling eyes after a moment. "I would have interviewed Claudia had she survived. I feel her story needs to be heard."

You answer more of his prodding questions till you return to your room for lunch. A wrap of some sort with nuts and fruits on the side. And a pile of little girls diaries with white gloves and a note to handle with caution.

Armand won't voice his affinity for you as Louis does. You won't admit the way his eyes settle on you as you enter the room makes you preen, makes your heart fuzzy and your head feel like it wants to float away.

The interview goes on tonight with Armand joining. They once more talk about Lestat. You try and fight your eyes from rolling as you read through an email.

'If I hear his name one more time I might gouge my ears out.'

'Don't torture yourself like that cher.' Your eyes look to him, but he remains focused on Daniel, listening to Armand. How does one multitask like that? Two conversations at once must be hard.

'Years of practice.'

'And what's with all this chere nonsense?'

'Would you prefer your name instead?'

'No' your cheeks warm in embarassment "I...enjoy it."

"Get me some pictures of this theatre." Daniel's instructions get your attention, "and whatever memorabilia you can find." You nod typing that onto your list of many other things to do.

'I will help you with that tonight, after the session I've arranged for dinner tonight' Armand now stares at you and that damned feeling begins to creep back in 'no pork as per your request.' You hate how quick you are to forgive him. But he slowly is earning your trust again.

Daniel coughs obnoxiously getting the elder vampires attention. "You were saying?" This time when you look down, a smile only the pair can detect makes its way upon your lips.

They stare at you less, leave your mind alone as per your request. And indulge in your blunt questions. Each night you find yourself slowly feeling less discomfort. You almost wish you could stay, you think to yourself one night now dining with the two looking at pictures of Louis in his younger years.

He sits beside you, smiling as he watches your hands carefully hold the photos from their time in France.

"No fair, Paris is top of my bucket list."

"I'd be more than happy to take you," Louis gives you that smirk which you roll your eyes in playfulness at.

"Sure you will."

"We could take you anywhere you would like" Armand states.

"Ibizia?"

"Gladly."

"Bali."

"Sure."

Even though you still doubt their supernatural nature. You indulge them. Unknown that just as much as you have them wrapped around your finger, they have you caught in a web.

And they'll patiently wait for you to realize that there are some beings whose hearts you should never toy with. For the results afterwards, are eternal.

[the-kr8tor]

In Pursuit of Blood: A trip down goblin lane.

Pairing: Vampire! Hobie Brown x fem! Vampire hunter! Reader

Word count: 5.6k

Synopsis: You, an amateur vampire hunter, find it really hard to kill the one vampire you were tasked to kill.

Tags: Use of Y/N sparingly, no specific physical description of the reader (except for her clothing), same universe as the WWDITS series, CW blood, TW violence, CW suggestive, Mockumentary AU, established relationship, Fluff.

A/N: Special thanks to @al1x00 (ly fr) for the idea! Happy 1k! 🫶 (Enjoy my attempt at humor lol)

Navigation

Hobie's Masterlist

The camera focuses on a leather clad man sitting on a patchwork armrest. His long leg is crossed over the other, metal clinking against each other when he moves. He places his elbow on the armrest, hand under his chin, ringed fingers tapping on his cheek—bored and clearly disinterested. Red eyes lined with dark eyeliner, piercings glimmering under the camera lights, sharp nails painted, he makes the crew suck in a breath.

He's the perfect picture of a rockstar.

The dimly lit gothic home provides the perfect backdrop to the ‘confession booth’, various books, knick knacks from far flung places are littered all over the living room. A grand piano stands proudly to his left, dark oak polished and well taken care off. Tapestries from the sixteenth century are tacked on the walls next to seventies and eighties band posters. His coat rack is full of jackets that look like they come from different times in history.

The producer nods at him, asking for the man's name, his voice just above a whisper so that the microphones don't catch the sound.

He sighs, jaws tighten for a second. “Name's Hobie, Hobie Brown.” His voice shakes the crew's bones. The blond haired producer clears his throat and Hobie rolls his eyes like a spoiled celebrity. “And I'm a vampire.” he says flatly.

The blond gestures for him to continue, asking him how old he is. “Fuckin' hell.” Hobie says under his breath. “Were you not taught manners? Come off it, you don't ask a vampire their age.”

The clipboard holding man, who pretends to be important, asks him why he agreed to the interview if he's so disinterested.

“Fine,” He smiles, showing his sharp fangs, the simple act makes the documentary team's heart skip a beat. “Before you say ‘m following a trend of vampires givin' interviews and a ‘peak behind the cape’ like the wankers in staten island or the lovebirds in dubai. ‘m not, ‘m only doin' this because,” he points dramatically at the clipboard holding man. “Your director told me all proceeds from this goes to charity. And it better be—”

Something thumps outside. The camera sharply turns to the closed floor length curtains.

“Oi, eyes back ‘ere.” Hobie exclaims, the camera whizzes back to his figure. “Again, vampire, been alive for…” he inhales, “a long bloody time. Been a pirate, a cowboy, hell even a rockstar. But always an anarchist.” He says proudly. “I've been rebelling against the one who bit me for centuries,” the camera zooms in on his scowl. “Hate that knobhead.”

Something falls right outside his windows, a groan and a curse sounding out, voice muffled by the walls.

The crew expects Hobie to hiss or even deal with the intruder but he smiles, posture loosening up.

“That,” he points at the source of the ruckus. “That’s a vampire hunter.” Smiling, the crew could hear a muffled ‘fuck you’ behind the walls. “She's been hunting me for a few years now. She—eh, hasn't been close.”

The cursing was louder, camera swishing towards the source, your angry face peeking out from the curtains. The boom mic captures your annoyed growl clearly as you place your face as close as possible on the glass.

“Fuck you, Hobart!”

He chuckles as the crew's face grows with concern. “Don't worry, she's—I guess bad at her job. She's interestin’ though. Y’know what, let me just show you.” He stands up, the cameras and the entire crew follows him through the hallways of his home.

The cameraman almost trips on a stray guitar on the floor. “Careful now, that was a present from some rockstar in the seventies. That's why I leave it on the floor, it works best as a boot scraper.”

Hobie stops in front of double doors, scenes of a love story are carved on the wood.

“It was a gift.” He addresses the doors, “not my first choice but where else would I put the bloody thing?” With a small push, hands braced on both doors, he reveals the expansive room lined with hundreds of paintings and photographs.

He sucks in his teeth. “The entire house is a gift, I'd rather live in a boathouse honestly but this works fine I guess.” Shrugging, he points at the oldest looking wood carving hanging on the wall. A man kneels in front of a woman, rose in his hand as she looks down at him with glee.

“Yes, that's me courting. The wood carver fucked up the scene though, it was more like me ravaging– uh” he clears his throat “…this won't show in pbs right?”

The people behind the cameras shrug as Hobie looks to them for an answer.

“I'll tone it down then, for the children, just in case.” He continues down the lineup of pictures.

Stopping by a large painting of what looks like Hobie in medieval clothing. The painted version of him is surrounded by flowers and trees. His antlers protruding from his head, webs clings to his arms.

“This was when people thought I was fae.” He makes a face, “everyone was tripping on shrooms back then.” walking towards the middle of the room, passing by a few more paintings and tapestries, He pauses on a yellowed painting of a woman who looks similar to you, only less angry.

“Look at her,” sighing, the vampire has heart eyes while looking at the painting. “this was before she was cursed by that bitcharse jealous witch. Now every descendant of hers is cursed to never harm me or any of my spawns, which is bad because they all think I killed their ancestor, and all they want is to kill me. A consequence of dating a vampire hunter during the fifteenth century, I guess.”

“The curse is a two way street, they can't kill me, I can't hypnotize them. It's not that I want to anyway.” he continues.

Another ruckus echoes throughout the house. Hobie smiles again. “I believe she doesn't know about it, so hush, yeah?” He does a double take. “Wait, can you cut that part out?”

—

The second crew runs towards you as you climb the tresses of the house. The camera lens zooms in on your clumsy climbing. Looking down, hearing leaves crunch underfoot, you yelp in surprise.

“What—?!” Losing your hold, you fall on a bush, landing directly at his wild flowers. “Ow! Who the fuck—?!”

—

Now sitting down on a lawn chair, leaves stuck in your hair, face and clothes covered in dirt, you scowl at the producer behind the camera.

Sighing, clicking your tongue, you answer their questions with another question. “Who the fuck are you guys?”

You raise an eyebrow at the words ‘documentary crew’ uttered by the producer.

“Seriously? Who would want to interview Hobart? Scratch that, is it because of those fuckers in staten island?”

A cameraman answers, ‘for charity.’

You blink in surprise, “charity? You fuckin' kidding me? Well if it's for the kids then.” sighing, you resign, looking directly at the camera with disdain, you say your first name. “And I'm a vampire hunter, I mean obviously I am just looking at all the stakes and holy water strapped to me. I look like I'm very fun at parties.” You say jokingly, “and church, probably. Dunno never been.”

The camera cuts back to Hobie still in the large room full of paintings and memorabilia.

“— I didn't do anythin’ wrong. They're absolutely mad at me for no reason—” he stops, thinking. “But I guess I was the reason their family was cursed innit?”

He changes subjects, showing the camera a painting near the end of the room.

“Oh this? This is when her great great great great grandfather almost got me, memories huh? He was mighty fit.” The crew zooms in on a gorgeous painting of a man trying to put a stake through Hobie's heart while he smiles up at him like he's smitten.

“Good times.” He chuckles.

—

“Fuck this.” You say, standing up from the chair, grabbing the mic off from your shirt abruptly. The camera follows you as you grab the lawn chair that you were just sitting on. You then proceed to throw it at a stained glass window. Giving you entry to his abode.

“It was gaudy anyway.” Entering the house, your shoes crunch the broken glass.

—

“Huh, she's inside. That's a record.” Hobie says almost excitedly. “I'll show you the rest of the room after this—.”

The double doors burst open, the camera swivels to you and the camera crew behind you. Holding a stake, you scowl at Hobie.

“Hello, darling, how was your commute?” He genuinely smiles.

“I have a car now, fuck you!” You lunge at him.

Lightning fast, he grabs your wrist right before the stake kisses his chest. The camera crews film on the sides, avoiding getting hit themselves.

“Good for you, finally saved up then?”

Lifting your legs, you kick his chest, you tumble, landing on your feet, staring at him menacingly. “Yes! It's a kia!” you scream before you run full speed at him.

“You got a good deal on it? Automatic or manual?”

“No!” You swing at him, he dodges. “I think I got swindled!” Kick “And it's a manual!” Punch “I’m not a pussy!”

Hobie clicks his tongue, avoiding the pointed edge of the stake. “Point ‘em to me, love, maybe I can get you your money back.”

Stepping back further away, you pause while he stands at the end of the room. Changing your hold on the sharp wood, you throw it at him, he leans slightly, dodging the projectile. it hits the wall right next to your ancestor’s portrait.

“You'll just drink him dry like the last guy!”

He shrugs, making a face that makes you want to punch him harder. “Not my fault he was a knobhead.”

You bounce on your feet, pouncing at him. “He was my dentist!”

He moves to the side, seeing you running towards one of the paintings, in danger of getting smashed by you. In his panic, he raises his arm to stop you, accidentally clothes lining you. His wall-like arm hits you right on your face.

Falling harshly on the floor, you're completely unconscious.

Hobie looks at the cameras with concern. “Shit.”

—

You wake up on an ancient looking couch, it's soft despite its appearance. Lifting your head with a groan, headache punching through the back of your head, you grimace loudly at the camera crew still filming in the corner.

Falling back on the couch, you hide your flustered face with your arm, pulling the blanket further up your chest.

“I promise I'm not that bad at fighting.” You murmur, still hiding your face from the cameras. “You just caught me at a bad time.”

Hobie suddenly appears with a whoosh, he holds a metal tray with tea and a hot compress placed on it.

“Who's giving you a bad time?”

You audibly groan. “No one.”

He places the tray on the coffee table, sparing a quick glance at the camera. “I caught you lackin’ you're not always that bad. Tea?”

Wordlessly reaching up, you flip him the bird. Hobie smiles softly, tapping your legs to give him space on the settee. The documentary crew is surprised that you actually move to give way to him.

He sits by your legs, preparing your tea just like how you always take it. Two sugars and a dash of milk. The entire production staff is perplexed to say the least.

With a clink of the tea spoon against the cup, you sit up, wincing slightly. “Can I get another sugar cube?”

Hobie raises a brow, “it's that kind of day huh? What's bothering you, love?”

You scoff, taking a cube for yourself then plopping it in your tea cup. “Nothing.”

He flicks his eyes at the camera with a knowing glance. Resting his elbow atop his thigh, chin placed on his hand, he pokes at your leg using his foot. Wordlessly having a conversation. With a sigh and a frown, you sip at your tea.

“Ex kicked me out. Now I'm living with the family again.”

Hobie's nonchalance drops, hand instinctively reaching out to you until he realizes what he's doing, he retracts his hand back.

“Shit, ‘m sorry. Their loss.”

“Mm-hmm, consequences of living with someone you've only dated for three months.” You finish your drink in one gulp. “‘sides, I don't have to pay rent anymore.”

“You've got shitty taste in partners.” You snort, half agreeing with him. “But you have to live with your psycho family so there's that.”

You laugh, the camera zooms in on Hobie's pleased expression.

“They're tolerable now, mellowed out after they took out count Belois.” You look at Hobie, copying his position like a mirror.

“He was an arse, did all of us a favour.” he stares at your eyes while the camera continues to film, yet you two don't seem to notice them anymore.

“Yeah, wish I was there though.” You say in a small voice. “They never invite me to those hunts. Always left watching outside.”

Hobie reaches towards you again, this time he actually holds you. Long fingers curling around your wrist, his thumb rubbing gently. “If only they know how hard you could kick.”

“You barely moved when I kicked you.” Chuckling, your eyes sparkle under the dim lights.

“Well it's me,” he inches closer to you in the seat, knee brushing against yours. “But if it was any other vampire out there they would have flown.”

You scrunch your face. Laying your hand down to your thigh, Hobie intertwined his fingers around yours properly this time. The camera captures the confusing scene.

“Because they turned into a bat?”

He grins, showing you his teeth, you don't even flinch. “Nah, because you kicked ‘em too hard. Did you hit your head that hard?” Knocking his knuckles against your temple softly, you move back like lightning has struck you.

“No, I'm actually okay, thanks.” You take your hand away, eyes flitting nervously at the camera then to Hobie. “I gotta go, dinner with the psycho family.” Standing up, you take your belongings from the floor. “You know how it is.”

He looks up at you with an unreadable expression, “yeah, I know how it is.” He says forlornly.

Patting his shoulder awkwardly, your hand lingers for a half second. “Bye,” you stare at the crew in the corner, “bye to all of you, I guess. Don't get eaten.”

The camera pans towards Hobie who just shrugs, fangs poking out of his lips.

—

Hobie eats alone in his empty dining room. The table is long, made of strong narra, designed to sit a dozen or so people. He sits in the head of the table, utensils scraping against the bloodied plate. His goblet is full, untouched.

He looks up at the camera on the other side of the table, observing his every move.

“The table's a gift too.” He says before continuing to eat silently.

—

The camera follows Hobie throughout his day. Roaming aimlessly around the house, he floats above the ground, hand and feet sticking on the wall while he dusts pictures that's placed on the highest shelf.

In the afternoon, he writes music on his piano while he flashes back and forth towards the drums and guitar, testing the music he wrote.

The crew captures Hobie burying something in the backyard. Jacket off, tank top and bare arms in full display. Moonlight illuminating his skin. His necklaces clink together as he shovels in dirt, packing the hole in tightly. The producer asks something about familiars and Hobie scowls at the word.

“No, just no. ‘m fully against havin’ familiars, it's fuckin' wrong.” He sticks the shovel harshly on the soil when the producer questions him again. “Ask me again and you'll be the one ‘m burying next.”

The camera shuts off abruptly.

—

The small supermarket's repetitive jingle from the nineties irks Hobie as he shops for some meat. But what irks him more is the documentary crew finding him especially after he went out of his way to hide from them.

He tosses a box of your favourite tea in the basket, annoyed at the team behind the cameras and boom mics. “Do the lot of you have a tracker on me or somethin’?” Shaking his head, he stomps down the aisle, heavy boots thudding loudly on the floor.

With his leather jacket plus all the metal and spikes on him, Hobie looks like a regular punk shopping for groceries. But if you looked closer, stayed too long in his presence, your flight or fight response kicks in, rendering anyone frozen on the spot.

His ruby eyes scan around the soap display, trying to ignore the cameras and people trailing after him, he gets a whiff of a familiar scent: strawberries and cream, it's you.

Hobie's feet move on its own, carrying him towards your direction. He spots you standing in the fruit section, weighing a watermelon in your hands, knocking on it then listening to the sound closely like you're trying to eavesdrop.

“What's the watermelon saying?”

“Christ!” You jump, dropping the watermelon.

Thankfully he catches it before the fruit splatters on the linoleum. “Just me, love.”

Clutching your chest, you take deep breaths. “I thought I smelled something rotten.” He raises a brow at your comment. “What are you doing here? This is far from your place.”

“First of all, I smell like sandalwood and fresh linen, fuck you.” You snort, rolling your eyes. “And ‘m tryin' to avoid them.” He points behind him, towards the cameras.

“Augh, they're still following you?”

“Apparently I signed a contract, it's not a one time thing.” He places the watermelon back to the crate, taking one that is riper and sweeter just for you. He then gently drops it in your cart, you nod a thanks.

“I told you before don't sign anything when you're drunk off of alcohol filled blood.”

“You're right, lovie, should've listened to you. Can't blame me when I only hear music whenever you open your pretty mouth.” He leans on your cart nonchalantly, giving you his signature smirk that has people falling over themselves for centuries.

“That's not much of a compliment.” You grimace, unaffected by his charm. “Listen, since we're in a public place I'm not gonna try to kill you so please get off my cart, I've got some shopping to do.” Shaking the trolley, he leans away, dismayed. “Also, the owner seems to like me, which is rare enough, so I don't want to ruin my relationship with the old lady. Shoo, Hobart, I'm off the clock.”

“You've got two people who like you now. One more than the other, I suppose.”

You narrow your eyes towards the vampire. “Who's the second one.”

Hobie walks backwards, arm wrapped around his basket, smile blinding everyone in its vicinity. “Me, darling, isn't it obvious?”

The bright fluorescent lights shouldn't do him any favours but by god, he looks amazing under it.

You don't answer, the camera zooms into your hands gripping the handles of the shopping cart, chest heaving, swallowing thickly.

He leaves, going towards the cashier to pay for his groceries. And you spot a sign that's labeled ‘50% off on garlic!’ you glare at the camera, pushing the cart towards the display.

—

Hobie sits on his work table, pieces of a TV are jumbled out on the table as he tinkers with them. His hands shake slightly, he should really feed.

“—‘m pretty good with technology, not like the other vampires. I've adapted well with—” he sniffs, “wait, what's that smell?”

He opens the door to find thousands of garlic circling around his house, “what—?”

“Tada!” You pop out from the side, hands carrying bushels of garlic, no doubt smelling like it too. “Wait, no, not tada, that's in poor taste because you hate them.”

Hobie gags at the smell, eyes watery and irritated. “This is a bad idea!” He rubs at his eyes, tears fully streaming on his cheeks.

“Why? Because it's working?!” You cackle, throwing the vegetable like confetti, one lands right on top of your head.

“Because it attracts—!”

You screech when you feel a sharp tug at your coat. A little green creature shrieks at you, the sound rings your eardrums, almost breaking the boom mic. Its eyes are dark and glassy, ears pointed, teeth sharp.

“A Goblin?!” Falling on your ass, you crawl backwards, watching as more and more of them appear from the bushes.

“I'm a goblin.” The one with a worn out party hat says, voice cracking like foil.

“What are you a Pokémon?!”

Hobie runs after you as fast as he can with the garlic hindering him. “Get inside!” He yells, dragging you towards the door. His hands sizzle atop your arms, the garlic searing his skin.

The creatures skidaddles towards you, towards the smell of garlic. Waves upon waves of green skitter and crawl on all limbs, eyes hungry, mouths agape.

“Hobie!” You hold on to his wrists as the ground scratches your back. Kicking an incoming goblin, you yelp as the door closes at the nick of time.

Claws scratch at the windows and walls. One of them even bangs its head hard on the glass just to get to you.

Hobie hides you behind him, eyes still stinging and skin aflame. “Get to the basement!” He screams when one breaches the house with glass shattering. “Go!”

Running down, Hobie lets you and the crew go first. He grabs a cutlass from the wall, chopping one that comes a little too close to your leg.

You look back at him with worry. “Hobie!”

“I'll be there! Just go!” He grabs one by the neck, throwing it away haphazardly.

It yells a faint ‘whee’ as it sails through the house.

Reaching the large basement, you search for the light switch, a cameraman beats you to it and you yelp at the sudden brightness.

The basement is full of things from different centuries. An iron maiden lays discarded on the corner, its steel rusted and brown. A sculpture of a woman sits on a shelf, it looks like it's a long lost work of Rodin. There's a large tapestry depicting a vampire war that is now collecting dust on the wall.

But the thing that catches your eyes is the massive metal cage that sits in the middle of the room. You would gawk but the swarm of goblins are nearing the basement. The familiar thumping of boots shakes you with relief.

“Cage!” Hobie grabs you effortlessly, you have no time to react as he carries you like a duffel bag by your waist.

The crew follows frantically, closing the metal doors shut behind them just as the swarm gets close. They shriek and bang on the bars, little arms trying to reach towards you.

He lays you back to your feet, dropping the drenched sword on the ground, palms still healing. He cups your face, searching for any injuries.

“You alright?” He heaves, out of breath, legs covered in goblin bites and palms searing but he looks at you like you're the one who's bleeding.

Staring at him with your irises blown out, mouth slightly parted, you embrace him to his surprise and the crew's.

“I'm okay,” you lean away before he could hug back. Hands placed on his shoulders, nails digging into him like he's about to be yanked away from you. “Are you?”

Hobie forgets about the other people inside the cage and the goblins trying to nibble at him. It's only you in his hands, even though the pungent smell of garlic makes his nose itch. Eyes tender, touch gentle, he could only nod.

“Yeah, I'm good now.” His voice lacks the usual charm.

You can finally breathe. “I thought…I'm the only one that's allowed to kill you.”

Chuckling, he traces your jaw with his thumb. “I know. You're first in line, darling.”

The crew stands near the sides awkwardly.

—

The goblins are trashing Hobie's basement, and based on the sounds from upstairs, they're also wreaking havoc in the entire house.

You sit back to back with Hobie in the middle of the cage, away from the bars, hands braced to your sides, his own are mere inches away from yours. He's glad that the garlic smell has wafted away from you, but not enough to get rid of the goblins still hankering for your flesh.

The crew stays away from the openings of the cage whilst a handful of the creatures try to grab at their equipment. It's been hours since the initial attack and everyone's getting hungry and thirsty, including Hobie.

“Why do you even have a dungeon in your basement—? Wait, scratch that, don't answer.” You try to pass the time.

“It was for your great great uncle—”

“Ew!”

“Get your head out of the gutter.” He says flatly, hands shaking from hunger. “I got it so he has a safe place to transform every full moon.”

“What? Huh, so that's why that branch of the family is so hairy.”

He changes the subject. “What were you thinkin’ with the garlic?” Hobie lays his head right on your shoulder, craning his neck to face you, he uses the closeness to memorize your face. His crimson eyes are dimmer than you're used to.

“I dunno, I thought it was a genius idea back then. Y’know, trap you inside, starve you then when you're weak enough I'd put a stake through your heart.”

“It's a good thing you're bloody fit.” He murmurs, chuckling quietly. “You almost got me though.” Your ears pick up the fatigue in his voice.

“And here I thought you fancy me for my amazing personality.”

“That too.” He smiles weakly, feeling the ache in his bones. “We need to get out of here.” His jaw visibly tightens, wanting to get away from you and your scent. Unfortunately it's not so easy when you're trapped.

“I know,” You sigh, Hobie sits up, covering his ears with the heels of his palms. “You okay?”

“I can hear your blood rushing through your veins.” He bites the inside of his cheeks. “Fuck, we really need to get out of here.” Standing up on wobbly feet, you help him up while the crew stands as far as they can without getting slashed by goblin claws.

“You're hungry.” You state the obvious.

“Starvin’” his red eyes flick down to your neck, already feeling guilty from the simple look.

You swallow thickly. “When was the last time you drank?”

“A couple days ago.” His vision blurs.

“Why are you starving yourself?” Scolding him, you guide him back down on the cold granite. “Hobart.”

“Why do you keep callin' me that?” Cold hands against your own, his eyes zeroes in on your face, avoiding the veins in your neck. “You sound like her when you call me that.”

Your eyes soften, warming him with your palms atop his cheeks, you worry. “You haven't answered my question.”

He groans, head lolling backwards. “Got busy, forgot what day it was.”

“Busy with what?” You click your tongue, lifting his head back up with your hands under his head. You search his hungry eyes, making a decision you could regret in the long run.

“If I let you feed, will you be able to get rid of the goblins?”

That has him picking his head back up, waking him up from his hungry stupor. “What—?”

You reiterate, voice determined. “If I let you drink from me can you get your strength back and get rid of the little fuckers?”

“Y/N, I can't let you do that.”

“I know what happens if you don't feed and judging by how the goblins are devouring your entire house like some frat, they aren't leaving soon enough.” You ball his shirt in your hands for emphasis. “I'm letting you drink, just this one time so we could all go home.”

“Are you really sure?”

“Just don't turn me into your spawn, deal?”

Hobie cracks a smile, fangs glinting off the basement lights. You suddenly feel your nerves kicking in.

“I promise I won't. Just tell me if it gets too much, yeah?”

“Okay,” you inhale deeply, tugging down the collar of your shirt, showing him what he needs. “Don't drink me dry.”

“That depends, for all I know you taste brilliantly.” His joke alleviates your fear a little. You're both unaware of the cameras watching, recording everything. Even forgetting that they were there in the first place.

His hand is on the back of your neck, the other is gripping on to your arm like his life depends on it. Eyeing your skin, lips brushing along it, fangs barely piercing, he gives you enough time to lean away.

“Hurry on with it, I need to pee.”

With a deep chuckle, he sinks his teeth in you.

Gasping, you bite down on your bottom lip, stifling any sounds. But Hobie can hear them from your chest, feel how your body quivers with every suck and nip from his teeth.

You whimper and he holds on to you tighter.

He wants to devour you whole, his instincts tell him to ravage you until you're dry and limp in his arms— to rip you apart with his bare teeth. But he doesn't, he's careful and gentle like he's drinking nectar straight from a flower.

“F-fuck…” you let out, hands shaking, sliding down to the back of his neck, pressing him closer.

He turns warmer with your crimson flowing through him, not letting a single drop of the precious liquid dribble from his mouth.

Hobie feels like his dead heart beats once again after centuries.

Eyes closed, you feel like you're on cloud nine. You look like it too, eyes hazy, lips parted, hand holding on to him weakly.

Before he could drown in you, Hobie carefully eases his teeth out from your pierced skin, maw covered in your blood, thumb pressing down to your wounds to stop the bleeding.

It will scar, but you're alright with that thought.

He feels anew. His eyes are sharper, adrenaline coursing through him like your blood in his system. His ears perked at every breath you let out. Eyes blown up like the size of dinner plates, his warm breath fans your cheeks.

Half of him regrets doing it, now that he has gotten a taste, he can't go back to biting random rich assholes. His other half delights in your after taste, so sweet and nectarine that makes him crave more.

You crane your neck slowly like molasses to look at him sweetly through your half lidded eyes, and a soft yet tired smile on your lips. Still clinging into euphoria, vision swirling and heart beating a thousand times per second. You feel like you've ascended and you'll never go down from it.

Licking his teeth, Hobie resists the urge to dive back in. But he's more than that, you're more than a blood bag.

“You alright?” He whispers, he smells like you.

You hum, smiling giddily like a child who just got what she wanted.

“‘m gonna go and kill some goblins now. Stay here for me?”

You hum a tune that sounds like a rendition of ‘happy birthday.’ Giggling, you pat his cheek.

“Yeah, you'll be alright. I'll get you some orange juice after this.”

“Orange sounds nice… such a pretty color. And cookies, yum.” You chortle like you just heard the best joke. “Oh handsome, so handsome. I'm gonna bite you back one day.” Staring up at him, your eyes roll back, falling unconscious.

“Lookin' forward to it.”

Hobie gently lays you down on the floor, standing up, ears listening to your fast heart beat, but it's not enough proof for him. Eyes observing your chest, watching it go up and down, making sure he didn't go too far. Satisfied, he points at the crew cowering in the corner, their cameras still rolling. The documentary won't air anywhere at this rate.

“Watch her.” He says sternly, eyes glaring.

They all nod frantically.

With a swift kick to the metal door, he strikes down every goblin he sees.

—

You sit on the same patchwork armchair, sipping on a warm cup of tea, comfortable and content in your seat. The two pin prick scars on your neck peeks under your collar. The camera has you in the spotlight, zoomed in on your freshly washed face.

“Do you know about the curse?” The man behind the camera asks, his voice wavering with every word like it's taboo to mention it.

“What curse?” You watch as their faces morph into panic. “I'm fucking with you,” you laugh at their expense.

“Of course I know about it. Why do you think I hunt him down? For fun? Well, partly because of it but we broke that curse like five generations ago when my ancestor figured it all out and made friends with the witch.”

Smiling fondly, you continue. “She's my godmother now. Don't tell him.” You warn. “Hunting him down is an initiation for us really, a tradition to try and kill him, just really doing our best to cause damage. He's pretty powerful.”

Laying your elbows on your knees, you look directly at the camera.

“I mean you've seen the room right? He's fucking obsessed, someone has to off him or just—I honestly think he should just move on.” shrugging you sip your tea that he made for you.

“Is that why you're living with him?” They ask unabashedly. The camera zooms out, showing you still in your pajamas, complete with fluffy slippers.

“Uh—”

Hobie appears in the corner, leaning on the doorway casually, a similar pajama pants hanging low on his hips.

“Darling, have you seen my good jumper—?”

You take your crossbow from under the chair, twisting in your seat, you aim it at his head, shooting, the arrow whizzes past him, he ducks down as the arrow imbeds into the oak.

Hobie laughs on the floor, lifting up a black and red jumper. “Found it!”

“Goddamnit.” The word is laced with endearment. You turn back towards the crew, eyes narrowed at them. “Wait, why are you guys here so early?”

Support banner by @/cafekitsune

A/N: Thank you for reading! And happy 1k! 🎉

[fourseasonnn]

Discover the Magic of Bi-Folding Doors in UAE Renovations

As architecture and interior design evolve, innovative and versatile solutions have emerged to enhance the aesthetics and functionality of living spaces. Bi-folding doors have gained popularity in UAE renovations. These doors provide a seamless connection between indoor and outdoor spaces, allowing residents to enjoy the beauty of their surroundings while experiencing the comfort of their homes. This blog will explore different types of bi-folding doors, focusing on frameless folding doors in Dubai, aluminium sliding doors, and stackable glass doors in Dubai.

Understanding Bi-Folding Doors

Bi-folding doors are the pièce de résistance in contemporary home renovations. Beyond their aesthetic appeal, these doors serve as a portal to a more comfortable and harmonious lifestyle. They enable homeowners to embrace the outdoors, enjoy natural light, and optimise their living spaces.

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Types of Bi-Folding Doors in Dubai

Frameless Folding Doors in Dubai: Aesthetic Marvels

Imagine a home with uninterrupted views, where the boundary between indoors and outdoors dissolves, allowing natural light to flood the interiors. Frameless glass doors in Dubai epitomise elegance and modernity, redefining architectural boundaries and bringing sophistication to any living space.

With their sleek and minimalist design, frameless folding doors create the illusion of boundless space, making them ideal for compact apartments or large luxury villas. These doors operate smoothly on concealed tracks, effortlessly gliding open or closed. They create an unobstructed passage when fully opened, making your home an oasis of openness and tranquillity.

Aluminium Sliding Doors Dubai: Where Strength Meets Beauty

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Stackable Glass Doors in Dubai: Embrace Versatility

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Elevate Your Living Space With Bi-folding Doors

Discovering the magic of bi-folding doors in UAE renovations transcends the ordinary. These doors add elegance, create seamless connections between indoor and outdoor spaces, and perfectly optimise your living areas. With types like frameless folding doors, aluminium sliding doors, and stackable glass doors in Dubai, you have many options. Each option offers a distinct set of advantages.

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Outdoor Shades in Dubai Reduce Energy Costs in Your Home

Discover how outdoor shades can significantly reduce energy costs in your Dubai home. Learn about different types of shades, their benefits, & expert installation tips!

[fourseason]

Why Glasses makes Homes Unique

In this Modern Digitalized era people are nowadays adding value to their Dream villas. Glasses are always unique and it gives a Elegant look and also it will automatically create a High value. Glasses are composed of high materials which directly does not allow sunlight.

How to choose the Right Glass for you?

While Choosing Glasses for your Homes or Villas you need to remember one thing its about the Quality because there is more fake Glasses available on the market. Its always better to buy Glasses or Aluminium directly from the Manufacturer so you can Explore all of their products. Fourseason is one of the Biggest Manufacturer and Supplier in the UAE, Spain and Pakistan. Also they do have over all 22 years of experience in dealing Glass Partiotions, Aluminium doors, Curtain wall, Pergola, Bi Folding Doors, etc. To know more…

[valiantbouquetpersona]

Dubai's architectural landscape is renowned for its boldness and innovation.  Zealcon takes this concept a step further by incorporating seamless glass room installations, blurring the lines between indoor and outdoor living and creating a truly unique living experience.

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Beyond the View: Functionality Meets Design:

Zealcon's glass rooms are more than just aesthetically pleasing; they're practical too.  They provide:

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Zealcon doesn't just provide glass rooms; they provide expertise.  Their team of experienced professionals will:

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A Zealcon glass room isn't just an addition to your property; it's an investment in your lifestyle.  Embrace the stunning views, expand your living space, and experience the unparalleled luxury of indoor-outdoor living.

[deliciousangelfestival]

Tears In His Ferrari || Chp 1

Character: Bucky Barnes x Farmer!Reader

Words Count: 2,070

Summary: Bucky Barnes, used to a life of luxury, takes on farm challenges in a bet with his father. Mud-stained Ferraris and a rustic farmhouse lead to unexpected personal growth, guided by the stern mentorship of Y/N, a farmer making his city-boy life difficult.

Main Masterlist || support: Ko-fi

Thank you to anyone who gave a like, reblog, and left a comment. It motivated me to write more. 

Chapters: Chp 1, Chp 2, Chp 3 , Chp 4 , Chp 5 , Chp 6 , Chp 7 , Chp 8 , Chp 9 , Chp 10 , Chp 11 , Chp 12.

Under the relentless blaze of the scorching sun, Bucky Barnes, the pampered scion of the country's largest retail business, was far removed from the air-conditioned boardrooms of his family's empire. Grumbling incessantly, he swatted away the relentless flies that seemed to thrive in the rural heat. 

"Pick them up gently, Bucky. We don't want scrambled eggs before breakfast," Y/N instructed sternly, her eyes narrowing as Bucky clumsily reached for the first egg. The delicate shell slipped through his fingers, meeting the unforgiving ground with a sharp crack.

"Really, city boy? You gotta treat 'em like they're made of glass," Y/N scolded, her tone unyielding. Bucky, now sporting a mix of irritation and embarrassment, shot back with a sarcastic retort.

"Glass? They're just eggs, not Fabergé. And who knew these chickens were so high-maintenance?"

Bucky, wiping sweat from his brow, replied with a half-smile of his own, “This is absurd. I'm a Barnes, not a farmer.”

How could the sole heir of the country's largest retail company find himself toiling like this? It all stemmed from a bet he made with his father.

2 weeks ago:

Under the glittering Dubai night sky, Bucky, driven by the thrill of rebellion, decided to join a race car event despite his father's explicit warnings. The roar of the engines reverberated through the darkness as Bucky sped along the circuit, the city lights blending into a streak of colors.

As Bucky pulled into the pit garage, the bright lights revealed an unexpected sight – his father, stern-faced and waiting. The realization struck Bucky like a sudden brake, his heart pounding in rhythm with the fading echoes of the race.

His father's disapproval was palpable as he approached, a storm gathering in his gaze.

"Dad!" Bucky exclaimed, but his words were drowned by the tirade that followed. His father, fueled by a mix of anger and concern, chased after him, leaving no room for escape.

The victory that should have been a sweet taste of triumph was overshadowed by the looming storm of his father's wrath.

His father, face etched in a stern expression, strode towards Bucky, a potent mix of anger and disappointment simmering beneath the surface. Bucky's heart sank, realizing that the victory he had just tasted was now tainted by the disapproval in his father's eyes.

"Damn it!" Bucky muttered as he reluctantly shut off the engine and climbed out of the race car. His father's presence loomed over him, a formidable figure casting a shadow on Bucky's moment of recklessness.

His dad, arms crossed, began to unleash a torrent of frustration. "For the whole year, you roamed overseas to live your wildlife. You promised me after graduating that you'd take a year off before entering the company."

Bucky hails from a family that owns the largest retail company in the country, a business empire built over generations. As the sole heir to this colossal enterprise, Bucky enjoys the privileges that come with his family's success. 

Bucky is set to inherit Verve, a retail giant in the country. Despite the family's success, his spoiled and impulsive nature creates a conflict between his privileged upbringing and the responsibilities tied to the business. 

Seated on a nearby bench, Bucky nibbled on his snacks, a subconscious attempt to deflect the gravity of the situation. His eyes, darting between the snacks and his father, conveyed a mix of guilt and defiance.

He heard his father's words but struggled to understand why he, the heir to the family's business empire, should start as an intern when his friends effortlessly landed positions in their family companies.

"Why intern, Dad?" Bucky interjected his tone, a mix of frustration and confusion. "We own the company. Why don't I get the same treatment as my friends?"

The tension in the pit garage hung thick as his father expressed his feelings. "I'm fed up with it!" he declared, his voice a mixture of anger and disappointment.

Bucky, attempting to downplay the situation, replied nonchalantly, "Dad, chill. At least I gained some money from this."

His father responded swiftly and cut, "And you blew it all in a second! How can I trust our company to you?"

He rubbed his chest, a physical manifestation of the stress and disappointment weighing on him. "I feel like our ancestors are judging me. They were never big spenders like you."

A moment of silence followed as both father and son grappled with the underlying issues. Bucky's father couldn't shake the feeling that he had spoiled Bucky too much, especially since the loss of Bucky's mother when he was still young.

Feeling offended, Bucky retorted, "Do you think I can't handle my own money? I could make a million in one week."

"Really?" his father questioned, a skeptical look in his eyes.

Bucky, fueled by pride, affirmed, "Yes."

The challenge was set. Bucky's father nodded, "Alright, if you could make our farm profitable with a million, I will give you any position you want in the company."

"Really?" Bucky's eyes widened, a glimmer of opportunity sparking.

"Yes. If you manage to do it, I will never interfere with your life anymore," his father declared. Both of them shook hands, sealing the deal.

But then came the unexpected twist. "By the way, I'm going to cut all your access to your money," his father dropped the bomb.

"What?" Bucky exclaimed, shock and disbelief etched across his face.

"Your great-grandfather started his business with $100. You need to appreciate money, stop wasting it all in one day," his father explained sternly.

"But how am I going to live without money?" Bucky protested, a hint of desperation creeping into his voice.

"I've provided everything you need on the farm," his father countered, emphasizing the gravity of the challenge. "You're my only son, and I don't want you to be a wastrel!"

The moment's intensity lingered in the air as the weight of the challenge and the drastic shift in Bucky's circumstances began to sink in.

Bucky couldn't help but roll his eyes at the daunting challenge ahead. "Fine. I'll show that I can do it on my own. How difficult can it be?" he muttered, perhaps more to reassure himself than anything else.

Oh, how he wished he could take those words back as his Ferrari pulled up to the family farm, the only luxury permitted by his father. To his dismay, the farm appeared desolate and barren, a stark contrast to the lavish lifestyle he was accustomed to.

Bucky, sporting his usual city-boy ensemble of expensive leather shoes and a sleek leather jacket, stepped out of the pristine car only to find the uneven terrain immediately wreaking havoc on his attire. Mud splattered on the once-immaculate leather shoes, a cruel irony of the stark contrast between luxury and the rustic farm reality.

As Bucky surveyed the damage to his meticulously polished shoes, his eyes widened with panic. "No, no, no. You’ve got to be kidding me," he muttered frantically, attempting to wipe away the mud with his hands, only succeeding in making matters worse.

The realization of his Red Ferrari parked amidst the farm's untamed landscape hit him like a ton of bricks.

A look of horror crossed Bucky's face as he surveyed the mud-smeared exterior of his prized possession. "This is not happening," he exclaimed, his voice laced with a mix of disbelief and anxiety.

The once-gleaming Ferrari now stood as a symbol of the clash between opulence and the unyielding demands of rural life, leaving Bucky in a state of mild panic about the fate of his beloved car amid this unexpected farm adventure.

His panic only intensified as he turned his attention to the house assigned to him. It was a far cry from the sleek, modern apartment he was accustomed to. With its weathered exterior and superficial charm, the rustic farmhouse left Bucky in shock. 

"Wait, this is my house?" he stammered, disbelief etched across his face. The reality of the situation sank in, and Bucky grappled with the stark contrast between the urban comfort he knew and the quaint simplicity of his new rural abode.

In sheer disbelief, Bucky scratched his head and pulled at his hair. "How am I going to do this? I'm so dead," he lamented, realizing the task's magnitude.

Just as the weight of the situation began to sink in, a voice disrupted his thoughts. "James Barnes?"

Turning around, Bucky saw a woman seated in a farm truck, wearing a practical flannel grey shirt. She stepped out of the truck, her attire markedly suitable for the farm environment.

Still grappling with the shock of the situation, Bucky mustered a response, "The one and only call me Bucky. And you are?"

Undeterred by his casual attitude, the woman retorted with a smirk, "The one who will make your life miserable."

Bucky's eyes widened in disbelief. "Is this how you introduce yourself when meeting a new person?" he shot back, a mixture of surprise and amusement playing across his face. 

Y/N's face remained stoic, her expression unwavering as she delivered the news to Bucky. "I will be straight to the point; your life won't be easy like in the city," she asserted, leaning down to rest her hands on the wooden rail. "I'll be your mentor."

With a pointed finger, she continued, "We're neighbors. My dad asked me to help you." Her tone hinted at an unspoken determination to ensure Bucky's time in the town would be far from a leisurely escape. She was poised, ready to make him regret ever leaving her domain.

Flashback start

Y/N had returned from the farm two days prior, dropping fresh milk on the kitchen cabinet with plans to make cheese—her mother's favorite. Her family, owners of a dairy farm and several crops, had a livelihood deeply rooted in agriculture. The biggest of their ventures was their dairy farm.

As Y/N washed her hands, her father said their family would assist their new neighbor. Y/N, although accustomed to helping neighbors, Y/N couldn't hide her disdain when she heard the name 'Barnes.' She gritted her teeth at the mere mention of the family.

Her aversion to the 'Barnes' name was reflected in her unyielding body language, a subtle tension in her shoulders, and a clenching of her jaw. The prospect of aiding Bucky, the city boy from the family she held some resentment toward, added an unexpected layer of complexity to her already busy life on the farm.

Years ago, in their relentless pursuit of expanding their retail empire, the Barnes family made a business move that significantly impacted Y/N's family farm. The Barnes Corporation, seeking to acquire more land for development, had set its sights on the quaint farmland owned by Y/N's family.

Despite Y/N's family's resistance and the sentimental value attached to their land, the Barnes Corporation, driven by profit, successfully carried out the acquisition, leaving Y/N's family with no choice but to relinquish the farm that had been in their possession for generations.

The ruthless business dealings and lack of empathy from the Barnes family left a bitter taste in Y/N's mouth.

Despite the Barnes Corporation's relentless pursuit of their farmland, Y/N's family salvaged a small piece of their ancestral land.

But, the memories of losing her family's cherished farm to the corporate giant fueled Y/N's resentment and distaste for the Barnes family. 

Flashback end

Y/N flashed Bucky an assuring smile, though it carried an undercurrent of intimidation. Her expression was a blend of warmth and a silent warning. Bucky, feeling the weight of the unspoken challenge, involuntarily gulped.

It was a realization that, from that moment onward, his life was destined to be anything but easy. The smile that seemed promising also bore the weight of a mentorship that would test his resilience in the unfamiliar terrain of the farm.

Still processing the intensity of Y/N's smile, Bucky mumbled uncertainly, “What have I gotten myself into? ... and I have no clue where this is headed." With a mix of trepidation and curiosity in his eyes, he took a hesitant step forward, realizing that the journey ahead was bound to be far more intricate than he had initially bargained for. 

Chapters: Chp 1, Chp 2, Chp 3 , Chp 4 , Chp 5 , Chp 6 , Chp 7

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