#enticed by the smell of food and other cats

[enviousbug2]

Give me three kitties...

ignoring the fact it took me months to get to this; mhin acquires a third kitty!!

a link to my other two posts on this mini-series since it really has been that long:

one kitty

two kitty

[all-pacas]

my cat, the pickiest eater on the planet, will not eat:

(wet foods flavors:)

any kind of bird (chicken, turkey)

beef

salmon but only every other week. sometimes he's into it

he has zero interest in, say, bits of raw chicken skin or raw fish i offer him. he has no interest in almost any human food. it's gotten to the point where i offer him everything (he does like smelling new things) just to see if anything will entice him

wet food with pumpkin

basically if it isn't "white fish" flavor he's not a huge fan

however, as of today he has decided that he also loves:

venison

??????????? venison really buddy??? i buy different flavors to test them for him and of course this is the expensive one. also. deers

also he really enjoys cheeto cheese. i don't let him eat that one.

[bunnis-monsters]

NSFW

A/N: My comms are discounted for a limited time for Black Friday btw. This is a kofi request, so if you want more then send me a Kofi~ it’s a snow leopard hybrid ^^

Being abandoned by your owner in the middle of winter was already not ideal, but being caught in a record breaking blizzard was definitely worse.

You could sense it coming. Being a cat hybrid had its perks, but you almost wished you were blissfully unaware of your imminent demise.

It had been a few hours since your owner drove off, leaving you in a torn hoodie and your thin pajama pants. He hadn’t known the risks of owning a cat hybrid such as yourself, and when you went into heat and started rubbing your scent on everything and biting him to try and claim his as your mate, he abandoned you.

It really hurt. You adored your owner, thinking he was different from other humans who simply saw you as a pet.

But you were wrong. He tossed you away without a second thought, leaving you to die. Had you really meant that little to him?

Despite your sadness, you curled up under a bench, shivering as you tried to keep yourself warm. Even being in heat wasn’t helping much, the ache in your belly only adding to the discomfort and pain you were feeling.

You wanted to be warm, to nest and be properly bred by a kind male. Maybe that was too much for a house cat hybrid such as yourself to ask. Thinking you were worth something led you here after all…

As the snow only continued to fall, you tried your best to stay warm. It was only to try and find the most comfort you could while waiting for your death.

You weren’t accustomed to taking care of yourself. Ever since your birth, food had been handed to you, beautiful clothes and jewelry adorning your body when it came time for you to be presented before humans for sale.

Before this, you had never worried about warmth or sustenance, simply relying on your owner.

What else could you do?

As you thought all hope was loss, a scent other than the cold and wet smell of snow wafted through the air, a familiar yet strange one.

It an instant the bench was ripped from its foundation, a figure bending down to examine you.

Your vision was a bit blurry, but you could smell it.

This was a wild hybrid.

In the past you heard tales of such beasts, hybrids that fled to the wild to escape human subjugation, but because you were a pampered house cat hybrid, you had yet to encounter one.

“Lost, little one?”

Your tail puffed out as you let out a weak hiss, watching as the hybrid’s face got closer to yours. He smelled like blood, perhaps he had just procured a fresh kill and was looking to add to his winter stockpile.

At least if he killed you, it would be a quicker death than freezing. Perhaps this was some kind of twisted mercy…

But you never felt his fangs puncture your throat, instead your hoodie was being bitten, your body lifted and carried by his strong jaws.

He was taking you somewhere. Where? You could only guess back to his den. It would be easier to kill your there instead of risking the scent of blood being left on the snow, leading back to his home.

Although you were afraid, the big cat was warm. His breath fanned against your neck, and your body reacted against your will, producing enticing pheromones that told any hybrid nearby that you were in heat.

He was soft, and for some reason you felt something being wrapped around you… some kind of furs from one of his hunts. Why would he bother to keep you warm? Did he prefer his prey fresh and didn’t want you to freeze to death?

None of this really mattered to you. You were cold, hungry, and exhausted. If you slept now, perhaps you would be unconscious when the time came and pass on in your sleep.

So you passed out, too tired to even notice how his pheromones responded to yours.

When you awoke, you were in bed. Your owner had never allowed you to sleep with him, so this was the first time you had been in a human bed and not one for pets.

The blankets were made of the same furs you had been cloaked in before. You sat up slowly, still processing what led you to this.

Being abandoned right before a blizzard… nearly freezing to death… a wolf hybrid taking you with him…

It was a lot to think about, and even with a now well rested mind your head was still spinning. Maybe a meal would help you make sense of this…

“You’re awake…”

You stiffened at the voice, your blood running cold. When you finally found the courage to turn and look at the source of it, you nearly passed out again.

In the doorway was a snow leopard hybrid, his cat ears flicking as he stared down at you. He was nearly twice your size, and thoughts of you beating him in a fight went down the drain immediately.

“Thought you were a goner for a bit. Tougher than you look.”

He spoke slowly, his eyes on your plump form. You weren't sure what he was thinking, and before you could respond your belly rumbled.

“Hungry, huh?”

His long, thick tail swayed behind him as he approached. Although he was tall, he was thin and lean, not the same type of terrifying a lion or tiger hybrid would be, but still holding the same predatory glint in his eye.

“Kittens in heat such as yourself have to eat.”

You felt your cheeks warm. Of course he could tell you were in season, your scent was probably overwhelming at this distance.

He tilted his head. “Not wild, are you? What’s a little thing such as yourself doing all the way out here?”

Your lip wobbled. All the pain, all the anger and confusion came bubbling to the surface.

“My owner… he just… he left me all alone… a-and it was scary, I…”

The snow leopard stared at you, letting you cry before he leaned down to lick away you tears before beginning to groom you.

This calmed you significantly, a soft purr rumbling in your chest. This was a comfort you had been denied since you had been separated from your litter as a kitten, and you couldn’t help but lean in as he licked back your hair.

“It’ll be alright. You’re mine now, my property. You won’t be cold or scared anymore.”

He rubbed his cheek against yours, moving his face to your neck and giving a harsh bite to your sensitive flesh, a clear marking of his territory.

While you ate, it was clear he was holding himself back from something. His golden eyes followed your every move, his tail swaying behind him almost sending you into a trance like state.

You usually ate whatever your owner did, even if it made you sick or upset your sensitive belly, but tonight you had stew, made with cat hybrids in mind.

Once you had your fill, your body was able to recover enough to start producing more pheromones. It was well aware there was a male nearby and that you were fertile, so it made your cunt grow wet and hot, ensuring you’d be easy for the average male to penetrate.

But unfortunately your stupid body didn’t understand the male before you was twice your size. He could sense your heat, knew that your body was trying to stir him forward.

He sniffed at you. This was the scent that had interested him. It wasn’t like he was cruel, if a female such as yourself was in need he wouldn’t just abandon you in the cold, but the fact you were plump and in heat certainly made taking you in much more enticing.

You let out a startled mew when he approached, his face burying itself into your neck. His tongue lapped softly at the scent gland there, his hands moving to hold onto your hips.

From the moment he saw you, he knew that you would be his mate. The bond had been formed before you even noticed he was there, and the snow leopard was eager to confirm it.

You smelled like heaven, a mix of your natural musk and some kind of sweet perfume your owner had you wear. Tearing off your clothes was child’s play for his sharp claws, and his body vibrated with purrs once he laid eyes on your naked form.

Already he was imagining your belly heavy and swollen with his kits, his hand gently pressing against the fat of your tummy. Being fat and plump was good for surveying the harsh climate where he lived, and it was important for females to be fed fresh meat throughout the winter.

His cock hardened, it wasn’t going to be easy fitting into such a small cat hybrid. Compared to him you were like a mouse, easily positioned however he wanted.

His fingers dipped into you, making you mewl and arch your back. You had already been bucking your hips like a needy little thing, your body desperate to be mated before your heat was over.

His cock stretched you out. It was unpleasant at best, almost painful as you struggled to take in something too big for you.

Even though he was being gentle, nothing would help when you were never meant to be bred by a big cat such as himself.

Despite this, your heat ridden body made it work, beat pooling into your abdomen as your gushed around his fat cock. Your tail twitched as he slowly pulled out and pushed back in without warning, a bulge forming in your belly from the sheer size of him.

The feeling of being ravished by him was… exhilarating. You were too small, too weak to do anything besides moan and writhe underneath him, letting the snow leopard use you as a living flesh light to be filled with his seed.

Even though it felt like you were being torn apart at first, his finger slowly rubbing at your clit and his tip hitting your special spot over and over has your cunt clenching around him before you could even think.

If you hadn’t been in heat, you most likely would have died during the mating session, but while you were in season your body produced so much more lubricant and pheromones that helped you take him inside of you.

You felt so warm when he came inside, thick ropes of hot and sticky cum filling your little womb. Your heat eased a bit as you were thoroughly bred. You knew that this would ensure pregnancy, even if all you had to go off of was instinct alone.

“Little one…”

He purred into your ear, keeping his cock inside of you to make sure none of his cum leaked out. His tongue licked at your neck and hair again, grooming you out of affection now.

“My mate, my sweetheart… I’ll take care of you, alright?”

And that was enough for you. Now all you wanted was a mate and somewhere warm to sleep with three meals a day. It was clear that he could provide that.

So you slept without worry, curled up with your mate, your new provider.

————————

NSFW TAGLIST: @avalordream @icommitwarcrimes @bazpire @im-eating-rn @anglingforlevels @kinshenewa @pasteldaze @yoongiigolden @peachesdabunny @murder-hobo @leiselotte @misswonderfrojustice @dij-ology @i8kaeya @lollboogurl @h3110-dar1in9 @keikokashi @aliceattheart @mssmil3y @spicyspicyliving @namjoons-t1ddies @izarosf1833 @healanette @lem-hhn @spufflepuff @honey-crypt @karljra @zyettemoon1800 @exodiam @vexillum-moeru @imperfectlyperfectprincess1 @binnieonabike @enchantedsylveon @mysticranger575 @readeryn68 @danielle143 @kittenlover614 @filthybunny420 @annavittoria-mm @makimamybelovedwife @blubearxy @omglovelylaila @toocollectionchaos-universe-blog @fruk-you-usuk-fans @wil10wthetree @hammerhead96-blog @slightlyusedfloormat @bubblez-blop @sunshineangel-reads @heroneki-neko

[allfearstofallto]

"Tell Me You Love Me,"

Yandere! Male x Fem! Reader

FT: Childe and Scaramouche

TW: yandere, forced married au, violence, mentions of punishments (rice kneeling and starvation)

Childe

With your eyebrows knitted together and furrowed, lips pressed together in a tight smile and cheeks just ever so slightly puffed out, this is when Childe found you the cutest. Your smile was nice and he had an extra special place in his heart for the way you looked as you sobbed, but nothing could ever top your pout. It was to the point where he'd do things to entice it out of you, intentionally teasing you to see you puff up in that oh so adorable anger.

His cold, thin finger reached out and gently poked the soft cushion of your cheek, sinking into the plumpness of your face. Even when you slapped his hand away, he couldn't help, but to swoon at how cute you were. You couldn't harm him, not with those weak little punches, but you sure could try. And he absolutely loved watching you try. You seldom touched him of your own accord, so what was the harm in enticing you to do so? 

“I'm not in the mood to deal with you, Ajax,” You muttered, voice barely above a whisper. You spat his name like it was filthy, even crossing your arms afterwards as if to show you were deathly serious. He knew that you were, you had every right to be, yet he still sat next to you, so close his thigh pressed against yours. 

He placed an arm around your shoulders, pulling you into his chest in an unwanted embrace. It was a move that earned him a slap across the face from you. A painful one at that. Not unbearable of course, more akin to a cat scratch. Yes the cat hurt you, but who could stay mad at such a cute animal?  You on the other hand, he could see you holding your tingling palm, trying to hide the pain you were feeling. You were able to hit him because he let you, but an untrained fighter such as yourself was no match for a harbinger.

“Now look what you've done,” he could feel his cheek growing a bit hot from the strike, “You've gone and hurt the both of us.”

You shot him a glare, a very harsh one. If looks could kill he would've died on the spot. But he was immune to your gaze. More than immune to it actually, he reveled in the fact that you looked at him that way. That your pretty face could make such an awful expression. That the hatred you felt for him, causes your features to contort into something almost ugly, but beautiful to him.

“Maybe I wouldn't have had to if you weren't such a liar!” You raised your trembling voice, eyes welling with tears. Watching you go from anger to falling apart at the seams. He was the only person who could make you feel this way and it made him feel a sense of pride.

“What'd I lie about?” He teased. He looked up with a finger pressed against his chin, playfully beginning to ponder. If your hand wasn't already aching from the slap, you would've punched him, right in his smug little face.

“You said I could go,” you words were strained through tears that wouldn't stop cascading down your face, “I did everything you told me to. You promised!”

He snapped his fingers in recognition, “Oh! That's it! You wished to go to the lantern rite!”

The sight of him pretending was making you even more angry. But you couldn't let it boil over any more. Childe would only allow so much before he started to get upset, finally showing you how gentle he was being with you before. Few people even got the chance to place hands on him and live.

“You said I could go,” you repeated again slowly. 

And he did. You slaved away, doting on him like the perfect wife. Doing everything he wanted. You were at his beck and call, acting on his every whim. Just for the chance to touch the soil of Liyue again, to smell the air, to taste the food…to see your family. They went to the lantern rite every year, and you hoped that that tradition didn't end just because you'd vanished. All you needed was a glimpse of their faces, no talking necessary. Even though you knew they'd want to see you, the selfish part of you was okay with them thinking you were dead or gone for good. That way they wouldn't risk butting heads with the Fatui, or worse, actually managing to meet with Childe.

“I was hoping you'd forgotten about that,” Childe spoke, trying to hide the annoyance in his voice.

You merely scoffed. You wouldn't be that nice to him without incentive. Yet after the initial agreement, the trip was never planned, luggage wasn't packed, carriages weren't called. As the days grew more and more near, you worried about the long trek to Liyue from Snezhnaya. You'd miss the Rite if you left too late, yet there was no urgency on his side of the deal.

He hummed for a moment, thinking with that face you hated so much. It meant he had more up his sleeve. You knew better than to trust a harbinger to withhold their side of the bargain, but like an idiot you still trusted him.

“I have one more request,” he began.

“That's not what we agreed on!” 

“Then I guess you just don't want to go?” 

You crossed your arms in surrender. There was that pout that he loved so much. Those puffed up cheeks and furrowed brows. He could eat you up with how cute you were, practically begging for his attention.

“It's easy, I promise,” he leaned as close to you as he could get and you resisted the urge to slap him again, “Just tell me you love me.”

You rolled your eyes, realizing that this was where he was going with it. He always asked you to do it and you always refused. You didn't love him. You hardly even liked him. You despised him actually. Found him disgusting and deplorable. He was less than human in your eyes, more like filth under your feet. But your love for your family outweighed your hatred for him.

“I love you,” you said so monotone, you almost sounded like a robot. Despite your lack of emotion, his face seemed to light up with glee.

“Again,”

“That's not what we agreed-”

He cut you off before you could finish the thought, “Again.”

“I love you,”

“Say my name too,” his voice was breathy, hurried even. You'd never seen his face such a deep shade of red before. It didn't even cross your mind that the Ajax that teased you so much, the Ajax that forced you into a marriage and so many other things, was able to blush. He hushed you again before you could open your mouth in protest, “Say my real name.”

You let out a sigh, “I love you, Ajax.”

His smirk was disgusting as he sat next to you in glee, like the words were sinking into his heart. Childe just sat there, riding the high of feeling your non-existent love before he spoke again calmly.

“I'll have the carriage packed tonight, we leave in the morning,”

Scaramouche

You are Scaramouche's life blood. Truly what keeps him going. His heart which ticks instead of beats, ticks for you, his cold body, warms for you. Although, he'd never admit something as embarrassing as that. Nor would he tell you that he longs for your presence at his side constantly. That he rushes through his assignments, while being noticeably irritable and unapproachable, just so he can make it home to you. Where he'll pretend that he's not head over heels in love with you, and scoffs at your every word. Ignoring you, while simultaneously sticking to you like glue, even with your protests.

He watches couples as they smother each other with affection, kissing each other as if nothing else matters, embracing one another like they're physically unable to tear themselves apart, and he feels something so new to him. Jealousy? No. It's more akin to envy. He wants to do those things and maybe even more. He wants to be the obnoxious couple who can't seem to get their hands off of each other, he wants you to feel the withdrawal from his touch, as he feels from yours.

These are all hopeful thoughts, weary dreams even. He can force you to pretend, but he can't force the feelings. Even if he tells you to look happy when he touches you, there's a lack of light in your eyes that he can't even punish away. You'll never truly feel the way he wants you to. Not now, at least. But there's a wishful part inside of him that claws at his chest, hoping that someday you'll develop those feelings. As he watches you across the parlor, your focus more on the calligraphy that he told you to do than anything else, he knows that that day won't be soon.

You look so beautiful while trying to perfect the brush strokes. Ethereal even. Your skin glows under warm candle light, and even though you try to appear emotionless in front of him, the face you make when you concentrate always finds its way out.

“I'll be leaving on a mission soon,” he finally says into the silence.

You raised your head from your work, looking him in the eye before you speak. You truly are obedient, just as he trained you to be.

“Safe travels, my Lord,” you reply with that saccharine sweet voice, but he knows there's no meaning behind it. No compassion, no joy, no hope. You'd be happy if he died out there, still feeling the same indifference towards him that you do right now. It'd actually make you happier.

His mind shifts back to those couples he'd always see, the ones that were stuck to each other like glue. They'd beg and cry for the other not to leave, holding their hands to pull their lover back in a display of desperation for their time. Yet here you sat. Indifferent. Uncaring. Unloving.

“Don't you have anything else to say to me?” He questioned while that part of him that was still holding on to hope was fighting its way out. If you just told him to stay he would. If you told him that you loved him, he'd come home even quicker. He'd be more brutal, just for the chance to slip into your embrace. Yet only confusion met his question.

“I'll see you soon?” Words which were supposed to be spoken as a gesture of love, were coming out as a question. You didn't want to see him soon, nor did you wish for him to travel safely. Your lack of care has him seething, but only his regular, nonchalant demeanor showed on his face.

“Would you rather kneel on rice or go five days without food?”

Your head shot up when you heard his question, his voice cold and serious. Your heart was pounding in your ears so loudly, you wondered if he could hear it. He didn't have to to know how tense you were at the idea of the punishments, he could see it in your expression. Your look of indifference was quickly changed to fear, large doe eyes threatening to fill with tears.

“Neither, my Lord,” you stammered out, “I don't think I've done anything worthy of punishment.”

And you hadn't. You’d done everything he told you to, exactly the way he wanted you to. Yet his ego and constant need for more of you, to claim you as his entirely, to swallow you whole, it made him angry. He'd given you a better life than you'd ever had before, he'd give you anything you wished for if you'd just open your pretty little mouth to ask, and all he wanted in return was your affection. Your attention. Your love.

“I'll ask you again, even though you know I hate repeating myself,” his red framed eyes glared down at you. Even at his short stature, he suddenly felt mountain tall, dwarfing above you in a way that made you want to sink into yourself, “I'll be leaving on a mission soon, do you have anything to say to me?”

You gulped down your saliva, feeling the way you had to force it down your throat as more pooled in your mouth, “Safe….safe travels, my Lord,” you stuttered. It was the same thing you always said, the same thing you were told to say. He left on trips often, but the script never changed. You were to wish him safe travels and see him off at the door. Yet here you stood before him, a quivering mess as he glared down at you, growing angrier at what was presumably the wrong answer.

“You must want to be punished,” he hummed while looking disinterested.

The pain of rice digging into your knees or the hunger pains of starvation, they were both punishments you knew well. Neither was one you wanted to experience again. After such hard work to act the way he wanted you to, you'd gone a long time without being punished. But the way he was looking at you struck fear in your head, your hands trembled as you desperately began to plead.

“I don't understand, my lord, please tell me what I'm doing wrong,”

“You really are stupid,” he scoffed, but there was a flush forming in his face as he realized just how overboard he was going for this one little thing. Something he'd never asked for before. But the thought was eating away at him, the hope was clawing out of his body. Bashfully, he looked down at the floor, “Tell me that you love me…and that you'll miss me while I'm gone.”

Your tears were dried quickly and you slowed your labored breathing. A bit of anger was bubbling in the pit of your stomach, anger at the fact that was going to punish you over something so miniscule, anger you hadn't felt towards him since the very beginning of this all. Since the day he told you that you were going to be his wife, but it wasn't a question, it was an order. Your very first order.

“I love you, my lord. I'll miss you so very much while you're gone,” you wondered if he wanted a performance. You did your best to make the words sound genuine, despite the way you detested him and his finicky personality.

“Do you mean that?” He asked, his voice sounding almost hopeful. In his heart of hearts he knew it wasn't true, but that didn't stop the excitement from growing.

“Of course, my Lord,” you lied. It was a good lie though, seeing as it earned you a subtle smile upon his lips.

“I'll bring you back a gift from Mondstadt, for being so good recently” he whispered while lightly patting your head. But the enticing idea of a gift wasn't even enough to pull you from your fear. You'd dodged a bullet, but there were more to come.

[joyfulcowboycandy]

This vampire won't leave me alone!

Vil Schoenheit x Reader

❥ one shot

Content warning: Reader is a vampire and they're rlly thirsty for blood, it is suggestive but it's sfw i think...., power fights lowkey? did I mention blood... Reader is down bad and a tiny bit sadistic, they want to break vil

note: i had SOO much trouble writing this fic and its kinda rushed so im not that proud of it, but i hope its coherent nonetheless

gender neutral reader

For humans, it always seemed like the worst thing they could think of about being a vampire would be the inability to consume human food and drinks.

For Y/n, though, food wasn’t something they felt they were missing out on. Humans always made such a fuss over eating, but for them, human food smelled foul and tasted even worse. Despite their friends' insistence, they couldn’t stand a bite.

"Blood is blood," humans would say, thinking all blood tasted the same. Y/n always laughed at that.

Silly humans.

Blood wasn’t just blood. There were so many different flavors. Some were sweet, like the person had been eating fruit all day. Others had a savory tang, and in the worst cases, it tasted bitter, the kind that made Y/n want to wash their mouth out immediately.

And species? Oh, now that was a real treat.

Y/n had sampled the blood of a mermaid before, and they could still taste the salty-sweet aftertaste it left behind. They'd tried wolves, cats, and even an octopus (that was a fun deal with Azul). And it was never enough. Every new flavor made them more curious.

At their dorm in Diasomnia, there was a dragon. A prince no less. Y/n wondered what dragon’s blood tasted like. They had heard it was powerful, rich with magic. Would it be fiery? Strong?

There were also fae, hyenas, lions... Humans too, from all over the world, each with their own unique flavors. The students here were like a gourmet buffet. It was almost cruel to Y/n’s senses, being surrounded by so many enticing options.

Then there was him —the human from Pomefiore.

Vil Schoenheit.

The epitome of perfection.

Y/n wasn’t one to harass their fellow students over blood. They didn’t need to chase or tease just for fun. Well… alright, maybe they did a little. Some of the students had such amusing reactions, flustered and embarrassed, especially when Y/n leaned in with that playful glint in their eyes.

But Vil? Oh, Vil was something else entirely.

They remembered the first time they laid eyes on him. He was flawless. Skin smooth like porcelain, hair shining under the sunlight (lucky human), posture immaculate. Everything about him screamed untouchable.

And, of course, that only made Y/n want to touch. 

Vil, though, seemed fully aware of their intentions. He kept them at arm’s length, with a steely gaze that practically said, Try it, and you’ll regret it.

But that only made it more fun.

On an otherwise ordinary morning, Y/n approached Vil with a sly grin. “Good morning, Vil. How’s my favorite beauty icon today?”

Vil raised an eyebrow, his patience already waning. “If you’ve sought me out, you must want something. So, what is it?”

“Oh, just a bit of… curiosity,” Y/n replied, eyes glinting. “Human connection and all that.”

Vil scoffed. “If you’re after my attention, look elsewhere. I have no interest in humoring a vampire’s whims.”

“But isn’t perfection tempting? Makes me wonder if beauty runs deeper than skin. Who knows, maybe it’s in your blood…”

Vil’s gaze turned steely. “If you think you can disrupt my control, think again. There’s nothing about you that tempts me.”

Y/n leaned in, undeterred. “Oh, I wouldn’t be so sure of that. Isn’t this game a little thrilling, even for you?”

Vil’s eyes narrowed as he turned away. “I don’t play games, and you’ll never get close enough to find out.”

Y/n just chuckled, undeterred. “Never say never, darling.”

And so, their game continued: Vil holding fast to his composure, and Y/n reveling in every moment he wavered, savoring each small hint of irritation that slipped through his icy facade.

༘⋆♡⸝⸝💌⊹。°˖➴

Y/n had to admit, Vil was endlessly fascinating. Even as a vampire who’d lived through centuries of human antics and magical quirks, Vil’s flawless composure and refined demeanor made him stand out more than anyone they’d ever encountered. Yes, he was beautiful—but that wasn’t what intrigued Y/n the most.

It was his control. His unbreakable, unshakable control. No matter what, he never let his mask slip.

Leaning against a tree, Y/n watched Vil from a distance as he practiced for Pomefiore’s next event. Every movement was graceful, each gesture measured to perfection, as if even the act of breathing was art. Y/n smiled to themselves. More than his blood, they wanted to unravel that perfect cool. To make him lose his composure, if only for a moment.

At one point, Vil wiped a bead of sweat from his brow with a silk handkerchief, not a single hair out of place. As though sensing Y/n’s gaze, he glanced up, his eyes meeting theirs from across the field.

Y/n raised a lazy hand in greeting, smirking. Vil’s expression soured, clearly unamused.

After practice, they caught up to him in the hallway with a knowing smile. “You looked good out there,” they said smoothly. “Though I noticed something…”

Vil didn’t pause, his tone as frosty as ever. “You always notice something, vampire. What is it now?”

Y/n kept pace with him easily, sighing in a mock-dramatic way. “Nothing much. Just that... you’re so composed. Always in control, like a statue. Doesn’t it ever get tiring?”

Vil’s violet eyes flicked to Y/n, sharp and unimpressed. “If you think your feeble attempts at unsettling me will work, you’re sorely mistaken.”

Y/n grinned, letting just a hint of their fangs show teasingly. “I’m only saying, Vil, that I could help you loosen up. Just a little crack wouldn’t ruin all that polish, would it?”

Vil stopped abruptly, turning to face them with a warning flare in his eyes. “I’m not like the others you toy with, vampire. If you think I’ll entertain this nonsense, think again.”

Y/n tilted their head, intrigued. “Oh, I know. You’re much more interesting.”

Vil’s lips curled into a disdainful smile. “Flattery won’t get you what you want. And if you think I’d let you so much as touch me, let alone bite me, you’re delusional.”

Y/n stepped closer, lowering their voice to a playful whisper. “Don’t make promises you can’t keep.”

Vil huffed and turned on his heel, his back rigid as he strode away. “Find your amusement elsewhere, vampire. Keep dreaming.”

As he disappeared around the corner, Y/n’s grin widened. 

Y/n’s relentless teasing only grew more fervent each time Vil brushed them off with curt, dismissive replies, his attention clipped and distant. But this coldness didn’t deter them—instead, it fueled their desire to keep pushing. The more flawlessly Vil held himself, the more satisfying it would be to see him slip.

Vil is a model of elegance and control, viewing beauty as both art and authority. Yet, Y/n found a nearly cruel thrill in testing his limits, eager to see if there was a crack in his perfect facade. Vil despised this, feeling it undermined everything he worked for; to him, slipping would mean surrendering the discipline he’d so carefully cultivated and the reputation he cherished. 

They had to admit though—they were getting a little too comfortable with their game. Every day, they found new ways to tease Vil, to try and chip away at his perfect composure, but every day, Vil remained unwavering. And the more he resisted, the more Y/n wanted to push. 

But today was... different.

It started like any other day. Y/n approached Vil in the hallway between classes, flashing him a teasing, toothy grin, already crafting their next playful jab.

“Hello, my dear. You look beautiful today, as always.” Their gaze drifted to his neck, the delicate skin hidden beneath his uniform collar and perfectly framed by his platinum-blond hair. “And your neck looks as biteable as usual.”

Vil didn’t miss a beat, giving them a sidelong glance. “Is that supposed to be a compliment, or are you simply running out of ideas?”

Y/n laughed, pushing off the wall to walk alongside him. “Oh, trust me—I’ve got plenty of ideas. I’m just savoring the chase. You’ll break eventually.”

Vil allowed a slight, unimpressed smile to slip. But just as Y/n opened their mouth to tease him further, he suddenly stopped in his tracks.

“Enough.”

The single word, icy and precise, made Y/n pause, the smirk fading from their lips. Before they could respond, Vil turned and closed the space between them in one smooth motion.

In an instant, Y/n found themselves pinned against the wall, Vil’s hand braced beside their head, his face inches away. Those violet eyes, usually calm and guarded, now blazed with an intensity that made Y/n’s breath catch.

For a moment, Y/n’s heartbeat faltered. They weren’t used to this—to him having the upper hand.

“You think this is a game?” Vil’s voice was a low, dangerous murmur, his breath brushing against their skin. “That you can toy with me like one of your other conquests? You’re not as clever as you think, vampire.”

Y/n swallowed, pulse quickening under his scrutinizing gaze. The cocky smirk they usually wore slipped as they struggled to find their voice, staring into Vil’s eyes and feeling a strange, unfamiliar heat rising within them.

Vil’s lips curled into a mocking smile, his voice dropping to a whisper. “You want me to break? To lose control?” He leaned even closer, a quiet, almost sinister chuckle slipping from his lips. “How laughable. The only one slipping here… is you.”

Y/n’s heart skipped a beat. For the first time in what felt like centuries, they were the one thrown off balance, pinned under Vil’s relentless gaze, and somehow… they found it thrilling.

“I…” They started, but their voice trailed off, leaving them uncharacteristically speechless. All they could think about was Vil’s nearness, the intensity of his gaze, and how their usual cocky confidence had all but melted under his scrutiny.

Vil’s chuckle was soft, dripping with amusement. “What’s wrong? Weren’t you so self-assured a moment ago?” He straightened, his gaze still fixed on them with a disdainful edge. “Look at you—a wreck just from a single glance. How pathetic.”

Y/n’s face flushed—not from embarrassment, but something that felt suspiciously close to excitement. They were completely overpowered, but they couldn’t help savoring it. It wasn’t often someone got the better of them, especially not someone as restrained as Vil. Instead of feeling frustrated, Y/n felt exhilarated.

A grin slowly crept back onto their face. “Maybe I am slipping,” they murmured, their voice softer, more earnest than before. “But I have to say, Vil, I like this side of you.”

Vil raised an eyebrow, the smugness in his expression deepening. “Is that so?” He took a step back, brushing a stray lock of hair from his face, regaining his usual elegance. “Then take this as a lesson—you’re not the only one capable of control.”

Y/n watched as he walked away, heart still pounding and an undeniable thrill bubbling within. They knew they couldn't wait any longer.

༘⋆♡⸝⸝💌⊹。°˖➴ days later

Y/n, having made themselves comfortable on Vil’s bed, lay on their stomach, chin propped on their hands as they watched him. They’d been teasing him for the better part of the evening, testing his limits to see if they could chip away at his ever-perfect facade. Despite his usual composure, Y/n had begun to pick up on little signs of him slowly giving in—the subtle twitch in his jaw, the way his gaze would linger on them just a beat too long, and the faintest hint of exasperation whenever he spoke.

“You’ve been working so hard, Vil,” Y/n mused, their voice a playful murmur as they traced a finger along the smooth fabric of his sheets. “Aren’t you ever tempted to take a break from perfection? Don’t you ever crave something… different? Just for a moment?”

Vil let out a soft sigh, brushing a hand through his hair with practiced elegance. “Perfection isn’t a costume you take off and on,” he replied, though there was an edge to his tone that spoke of weariness. “It’s a commitment.”

Y/n sat up slightly, inching closer, a mischievous glint in their eyes. “Commitment to what, exactly? Looking immaculate? Being untouchable?” They tilted their head, lips curving into a smirk. “I think someone as flawless as you deserves a little… indulgence every now and then.”

Vil’s eyebrow lifted, and he shot them a faintly amused, if guarded, look. “And I suppose you’re here to offer me that ‘indulgence’?” 

“Maybe.” Y/n’s smirk grew as they leaned closer, their voice dropping to a low, teasing whisper. “Or maybe I just enjoy watching you struggle to keep that act up around me.”

Vil chuckled, though there was a hint of resignation in his tone. “You think I’m struggling?”

“Oh, I know you are,” Y/n replied smoothly, their gaze unwavering. “You’re always trying so hard to stay composed, so perfect. But I can see through you, Vil.” They paused, watching him closely. “I wonder… what would happen if you let that control slip? Just once?”

Vil’s expression faltered for a split second, a flicker of something vulnerable crossing his eyes before he quickly masked it, glancing away. “That’s a dangerous question, vampire.”

Y/n’s smile softened, though their gaze held a playful challenge. “Is it, though? Or is it just an honest one?”

He let out a small, conflicted sigh, his hand tightening slightly as if grounding himself. “I don’t indulge whims.”

“Then why are you still here?” Y/n tilted their head, inching even closer. “Maybe you’re curious. Maybe you wonder what it would feel like to let go, just a little. Even if it’s just for me.”

Vil’s jaw tensed, his gaze flickering back to them, trapped between irritation and something deeper, something he wasn’t quite ready to admit. 

There was a pause, the air between them heavy with an unspoken challenge. Vil’s fingers fidgeted with the hem of his shirt, and Y/n caught the subtle shift—a rare crack in his perfect composure. He wasn’t used to being questioned, least of all when it came to his own control. Yet, a part of him—a small, defiant part—seemed tempted by the prospect of surrendering, if only for a fleeting moment.

Noticing his hesitation, Y/n took the opportunity to lean in even closer, their voice a low murmur. “You’ve been perfect for so long, Vil. Don’t you ever wonder what it would be like to let someone else take the lead? Just once?”

They held his gaze, a teasing glint in their eyes, before they let out a soft sigh, as if reminiscing. “Yesterday’s events,” they began, letting the words linger, “they’ve been on my mind. Watching you gain control, even for a moment… it was intriguing.” A smirk curved their lips. “Maybe now it’s my turn to show you just how undone I can make you… with nothing but my fangs.”

Vil’s breath caught, his composed facade cracking further. Before he could respond, Y/n closed the space between them, gently but insistently pressing him back against the bed. He let out a soft gasp, visibly caught off guard, and for the first time, Y/n saw a glimpse of vulnerability in his eyes.

Y/n moved swiftly, climbing over him and pinning his wrists down against the sheets, their grip firm but not forceful. Vil’s wide eyes stared up at them, his breathing uneven as his pulse quickened beneath their hold. Part of him wanted to resist, to push back, but another part—a deeply curious part—wondered just how far they would take this.

“So,” Y/n murmured, their voice a velvet whisper as they leaned down, close enough that he could feel their breath on his skin. “What do you say, Vil? Are you willing to trust me, even for a moment?” 

Vil’s lips parted slightly, words escaping him. He held their gaze, feeling that rebellious spark ignite—an urge to let go, just this once.

“Y/n,” Vil began, his voice quieter than usual, but Y/n silenced him with a teasing smile.

“I know, my love.” they whispered, leaning down until their face was only inches away from his. “Just tell me to stop, and I will.”

Vil’s eyes narrowed slightly, but Y/n could see the blush creeping onto his pale cheeks. “You’re insufferable,” he muttered, though his voice lacked its usual sharpness.

“Yet here you are, beneath me,” Y/n teased, leaning in to press a light kiss to his cheek, making his face turn an even darker shade of pink, something that did not go unnoticed by them. “And I think you’re starting to like it."

Before Vil could retort, Y/n shifted, releasing his hands only to grab both of them and pin them above his head with one hand. Their other hand moved to his chest, fingers splaying over his heartbeat, which was racing beneath their touch.

Vil’s lips parted, a shaky breath escaping as he tried to gather his thoughts properly. His already loose shirt had slipped down slightly, exposing his shoulder, and Y/n couldn’t help but let their gaze linger on his flawless skin.

“You’ve always been so perfect,” Y/n murmured, their voice barely above a whisper. “But I guess even someone as perfect as you can be brought down to this.”

Vil opened his mouth to respond, but the words caught in his throat as Y/n’s lips grazed the sensitive skin of his neck. His eyes fluttered shut, and for the first time in a long time, Vil felt utterly powerless, a feeling he never thought he'd enjoy as he is now.

As for Y/n, they wanted nothing more than to cover his pretty body in little bruises and bite marks, yet they knew they had to control their urges. They wouldn't want to get on his bad side after all.

Vil tried to keep his composure, but when Y/n’s tongue slid along his skin, tasting him, a soft whimper escaped his lips, much to his own horror. Y/n’s grin widened at the sound, their own pulse quickening at the vulnerability Vil was showing.

And then, finally, Y/n sank their teeth into his neck.

The sharpness of the bite sent a jolt through Vil’s body, his back arching as a breathless gasp escaped him. The sensation was both foreign and intoxicating, each touch and lap of their tongue igniting him with an overwhelming fervor.

Y/n groaned softly against his skin, savoring the taste of his blood as they drank enough to make Vil’s breath hitch again. He was trembling beneath them, torn between his need for control and the overwhelming sensations coursing through him. Each pulse of pleasure left him more dazed, his resolve fading as his body surrendered to the euphoric feeling.

His blood did not disappoint. It was rich, tangy, and savory, reminiscent of old wine—the only other drink a vampire could consume. It was addictive, and for a moment, they nearly forgot to stop. But as Vil suddenly began wiggling beneath them, trying to break free of their tight grasp, they realized they had drank too much.

“Kh… you rabid beast… don’t go sucking me dry…” he muttered, his voice lacking the power and certainty he usually exuded.

This jolted them from their haze. After a few more tantalizing laps of blood, they finally sat up, releasing his hands in the process. They watched as he panted heavily, cheeks flushed and eyes dazed, a far cry from his usual composed self.

Grinning, they leaned down once more, reveling in the moment. “Did it feel good?” they hummed, smugness practically radiating off their body. “I wouldn’t mind if you were a bit more vocal. It’s no secret that the feeling of being bitten is akin to euphoria.”

Vil glared weakly, but his blush betrayed him. “Get off me, vampire. Your breath stinks of blood.” he muttered, though there was no real malice in his tone.

“I can’t believe it. I’ve really rendered Vil Schoenheit, Housewarden of Pomefiore, a mess beneath me. You’re practically at my mercy,” they teased, enjoying the power shift.

Vil rolled his eyes but couldn't hide the slight smile tugging at the corners of his lips. “You’re insufferable.”

Y/n leaned down again, their breath hot against his ear. “Admit it,” they whispered. “You were melting under my touch, whimpering for more. It was cute .”

“Only because you caught me off guard, Y/n. It won’t happen again.” He managed to regain some of his composure, pushing against them to sit up.

Y/n shifted back, letting him move but keeping a close watch on his every reaction. “Oh? Is that a challenge?” They tilted their head, intrigued.

“Maybe it is,” Vil said, fixing his disheveled shirt and hair, the flush still lingering on his cheeks. “But next time, I won’t be so easy to pin down.”

“Next time?” Y/n echoed, their excitement bubbling to the surface. “You’re already planning our next encounter? I’m flattered.”

“I’m just saying, don’t get too comfortable. I can hold my own against a vampire.”

Y/n doubted that, but they decided not to push Vil's buttons for once. He'd been so kind to let them have a taste, after all.

[merakiui]

fluffy yandere!floyd on the brain. <3

(cw: yandere, brief nsfw, unhealthy behaviors/relationship, captivity, stockholm syndrome)

floyd who goes out of his way to make all of your meals look cute and taste delicious. like the pancakes he decorates with fruit to look like a bear or a cat! he wakes up extra early to prepare an entire buffet for you, including all of your favorites so you’ll be more enticed to eat. mealtimes are meant to be enjoyable, so it always saddens him when you pick at your plate, too nervous to ask for seconds or to eat even half of what’s on your plate when he’s watching. you’re always so anxious around him. it breaks his heart! :( he tries his best to be gentle and patient, especially in the mornings when he wakes you up and sees how cute and sleepy you are, clinging to his arm and mumbling about how it’s too early (it’s nearly afternoon now).

floyd who picks up gifts and treats for you on his way home. maybe it’s a fluffy pastry that reminded him of how soft and sweet you are or it’s a huge plushie that he knows you’ll love to snuggle with. he likes spoiling you with gifts because he adores seeing you smile, if only for a minute. he never expects anything in return and he isn’t doing this to win your affections (although he hopes it at least warms you up to him). just knowing you’re happy is enough for him. (but he does cuddle with his own shrimp plushie he bought on a whim hehe). sometimes he’ll set the plushies around the table so you’ll have company when you eat, just to avoid awkwardness when it’s you and him. sometimes he’ll make the plushies talk to each other with silly voices. his theatrics managed to get a few giggles out of you, so he knows you secretly enjoy it. he really wants to kiss you, but he knows you’d get scared and so he quells the urge by making a plushie give you a tiny peck on the lips.

floyd who, in the midst of a volatile mood swing, knows to distance himself from you so you won’t have to see him at his worst. he gets frustrated when you avoid him or talk about the outside or other people. when he’s angry like this, he wants to break something or someone. he could never take his emotions out on you, though! he’d never forgive himself if he did, so he goes outside and walks around or he’ll mindlessly clean the house or he’ll cook a bunch of different dishes. he could go out, look for trouble, and beat it to a pulp, but he knows you hate seeing him covered in blood, knuckles bruised and possibly broken, so he refrains from doing that. he’s picked up this habit: when he’s in a bad mood, he does good instead of bad. like cooking and cleaning instead of hurting and hitting others. and eventually the smell of good food or a fresh, clean house soothes him and brings him back to earth, no longer so wrapped up in unpredictable thoughts and feelings. he’ll knock on your door because you take to hiding when he’s pacing, prowling for something to get his hands on or sink his teeth into, and he tells you he made food or he cleaned the house or he tried to knit a sweater for his shrimp plushie.

floyd who pastes glow-in-the-dark shapes to the walls and ceiling so you won’t be so frightened of the darkness (or more realistically: of the person who dwells in that darkness). he buys a lot of different designs: moons and stars, sea creatures, flowers, and so on. he has too much fun putting them up and he encourages you to decorate to your heart’s content. floyd arranges some of the stars into a heart. normally he’d find it cheesy, but he likes it and seeing your expression soften makes it all the more worthwhile. he places his hand in the center of the heart and you follow his lead, gingerly placing yours over his. he smiles at you and asks, “big enough for two?” you nod, quietly echoing, “big enough for two.”

floyd who arranges the plushies in rows in the sitting room as if they’re all intended to be watching a show. he’s a portrait of lazy comfort in his sweatpants. you’re wearing his shirt. it’s nothing fancy, but then it doesn’t have to be. he’s taken a curtain down so you can use it as a veil, and he lifts it up to look at you. it’s his version of a wedding spent in confinement. the plushies watch with unseeing eyes, each one a witness to magnificent matrimony. the shrimp is sat on the sofa, intended to be a priest with its little recipe book. floyd makes up his vows as he goes, but they’re all spoken truthfully. the rings aren’t anything fancy either; he said he’d get you a nice one if you wanted it, but you seem fine with the plastic ones that came on a cake he bought. there’s a butterfly ring and a ring that says happy spring on it. it’s silly. it’s hardly marriage material. but it’s so very floyd, and that’s arguably much better than fussing over details. you make up your vows as well, speaking most of them through giggles because it’s more fun than serious. floyd asks if you’ll have him forever, if you’ll marry him and become his for the rest of your days, if you’ll continue to be his shrimpy; you say you will. rather than kissing you, he presses his forehead to yours and smiles. it’s a marriage of many promises. instead of an “i do” a forehead touch seems to signify the finality of this mock wedding. you and the plushies who served as guests celebrate with a feast. floyd’s outdone himself this time, but then he always does. chef floyd never disappoints, especially when he knows there’s a special occasion to be celebrated. and this occasion is the most special.

floyd who builds a pillow and blanket fort in the bedroom. he spends an abnormally long time perfecting it, which is unusual because floyd’s never been one for perfection. but he’s meticulous with this, so meticulous you’d think he’s building a nest for a mate. and maybe he is. eel instincts are so deeply rooted in his being, even when he’s not in the sea. he packs the fort with all of your favorite things: the eel and shrimp plushies, a few books, lots of snacks, plenty of blankets and pillows, and a tablet so the two of you can watch movies. he has you cover your eyes when he leads you to the bedroom and he’s practically radiating excitement in his haste to show you his hard work. you seem delighted to behold the fort in all of its comfy glory, and floyd is restraining himself from picking you up and carrying you over to the fort. he has to remember personal space. he has to be patient, and he is. always. only for you.

the lights are turned off and the both of you snuggle in the fort together, watching your film of choice. for once in his life, he’s the nervous one. he doesn’t want to do anything to upset you. this is the closest he’s been to you in a while. you’re letting him hold you! he’s really so happy. through the sheets in the fort, the faint glow from the plastic shapes can be seen. he finds the heart right away. it’s hard to miss.

floyd’s dozing. it’s easy to feel comforted in your presence. now that he’s finally relaxing after spending hours putting the fort together, he’s oddly sleepy. but before he can completely submit to his dreams, something on his lips rouses him. he opens his eyes to find the shrimp plushie giving him a kiss and it takes him a minute to realize the meaning behind the gesture. and then he’s staring past the plush at you, mismatched eyes blown hilariously wide. and then a smile sprawls on his face, and he gathers you in his arms, laughing and rubbing his cheek against yours. his shrimpy is the cutest!

he asks if he can kiss you for real this time—without the plushie—and you nod, and it’s the first time floyd realizes patience pays off. usually he’s not so awkward about physical touch, but it’s a different story to be given permission to do something he’s always wanted to do rather than just taking it for himself. he kisses you modestly at first, uncharacteristically chaste, obviously holding back, but it isn’t long until he’s melting against you. he holds you so gently, so firmly, molding his body to yours in the soft comforts of the fort. he kisses you breathless and dizzy, more than once, so much that the two of you break apart for air, panting like you’ve just run a marathon.

floyd switches positions so you’re lying on your back and he’s caging you between his arms. he asks if he can fuck you, promises he’ll be gentle, mumbles about how you’re so pretty all spread out under him. his hand slips into yours, squeezing reassuringly. he won’t do anything you don’t want him to. he’ll prepare you well. he’s good with his mouth, after all! that has you laughing. he’s laughing, too, his heart full of feathers, his mind muddled with warmth and sweetness.

and even if you don’t want to go all the way, he’s just happy to be here with you. your answer is spoken against his lips, and he promises he’ll treat you good. so good. the best kind of good you’ll ever have. and he means every word because he’s never be dishonest with you. and that’s a promise he’d never dare break.

[iamthecomet]

𝘔𝘶𝘴𝘩𝘺 𝘔𝘢𝘺 𝘋𝘢𝘺 𝘍𝘪𝘷𝘦: 𝘈𝘯𝘪𝘮𝘢𝘭𝘴

Rating: G Pairing: Mountain, Dew and Soot. Words: 1.1k

Featuring the return of Soot from The Day Dissolved.

Mushy May brought to you by @forlorn-crows Divider by @ghuleh-recs

Also available on AO3

Mountain doesn’t usually have trouble befriending the Abbey strays. He’s got a cadre of crows and ravens who bring him trinkets. A raccoon who thinks he’s a pet. Squirrels and chipmunks who are always happy to come up and take nuts right from Mountain’s outstretched fingers. 

So one little cat shouldn’t be a problem, but she is. 

Mountain’s tried everything. Three different kinds of cat food. Tuna. Raw meat. She eats all of it–but won’t come anywhere near it if he’s within earshot. He catches her little black shadow darting around the grounds. In his greenhouse even, keeping to the shadows. Mostly he sees her in the abbey graveyard. 

A fitting place for a black cat. 

She’s tiny. Mountain isn’t sure if she’s still a kitten, or just small. She’s fluffy, black, with big green eyes that stare at him from the underbrush as he walks closer. She never hisses, never swats. But she also shows no interest in him. They’ve had several stand offs in the oldest section of the graveyard. Mountain holding raw chicken between his outstretched fingers and this little cat turning her nose up at it and scurrying away. 

He isn’t sure why it matters. At first he tells himself it’s because he wants to make sure she’s safe and healthy. That he feels a duty to protect the living things in the abbey grounds. And also–he doesn’t love the idea of a stray cat around. Bad for the birds–and he knows how upset Cirrus gets when the cats go after them.

He’s followed her all the way to the crypt today. Trying to stay far enough back that he doesn’t scare her off. She knows he’s there–she’s a cat. But she doesn’t seem to care as long as he doesn’t get too close. He’s got more treats in his pockets. 

She stops at he steps to the crypt that holds all the past papa’s. She turns and looks at him, head tilting. He crouches down, reaches into is pocket and pulls out a chunk of salmon. God, Aether would kill him if he knew he was stealing meat to try to entice a cat. 

“Come on little one, I promise it’s better inside. All the salmon you could ever want, a warm bed. I’ll pet you as much as you want.” 

This is ridiculous he realizes as he talks to her. Bribing her. It isn’t because he just wants to keep her safe, or because he doesn’t want her out here hunting Cirrus’ birds. It’s also because it’s a challenge he can’t seem to win. Every other animal comes to him without any effort. What is wrong with this cat? The more she turns her nose up at him the more he wants to impress her. He wants to gain her favor, and when he thinks about it like that he feels more than a little insane. 

The little cat sniffs the air–takes a couple steps closer to him. Hope swells in his chest. He extends his hand even more, reaching for her. 

“That’s it, little one. Just a little closer.” 

The smell of cigarette smoke hits him. The little cat keeps coming closer and then walks past him, giving him just wide enough berth to avoid rubbing against his leg. Mountain startles, stands, turning as he does.

The little cat is winding between Dew’s legs. Nuzzling against his well worn boots. A warm purr reaching Mountain’s ears. The little cat looks up at Dew like he is everything and Mountain feels something sour in his stomach. 

“You?” 

Dew takes a drag off of his cigarette, he’s trying not to laugh–Mountain can tell. It doesn’t help. 

“I told her not to tell you.” Dew says, like this is all somehow the cats fault. “I knew you’d be like this.” 

“Like what?” 

“Jealous.” 

“I’m not jealous I’m just…you?” 

“Rude,” Dew stubs his cigarette out on the bottom of his boot then bends down to pet the cat. She nuzzles into his hand. When he scoops her up, Mountain feels something akin to shock. Dew? Really? 

The little cat headbuts him, pressing her face right into Dew’s until he’s sputtering on cat hair. Mountain stares, watching her lick at Dew’s nose. Dew scrunches his face up. 

“Ok, Soot, you made your point. Enough.” 

“Soot?” 

“Yeah, because she looks like she rolled around in a fire place.” 

Mountain can’t stop staring. Can’t stop feeling the heat of betrayal in his chest. It’s all so stupid. He shouldn’t care–doesn’t really. Is glad this little cat has someone. But he knows he’s lost. It will never be him. 

“You can probably pet her now.” Dew nods to the little black fluff ball in his arms. 

Mountain gets closer, he offers his fingers too Soot. She untucks herself from Dew’s shoulder and sniffs at his fingers, little pink tongue darting out to lick the salmon juice from them. When he offers her the fish, she chops down on the chunk greedily. Purring happily as Mountain scratches her between the ears. 

“She’s a little brat,” Dew says, but the fondness in his voice makes Mountain’s chest feel warm, not jealousy this time. Dew really loves this little cat–even though he’d probably say otherwise. Maybe it’s ok that Dew has this–Mountain doesn’t need Soot. But Dew definitely does. 

“How’d you get her to come up to you?” 

“I didn’t. She just started hanging out with me when I came to the crypts to…you know…visit. And I knew you were trying to catch her so I just…I felt bad you know? This is your thing.” 

Mountain shrugs. He pulls his hand away and Soot tucks her face back against Dew’s. Cheek to cheek. 

“It’s fine. It’s a good match. You're both picky brats. You can bring her inside you know. Papa doesn’t care.”

Dew laughs. “I know…I’m not sure either of us are ready for that kind of commitment yet.” 

“Typical.” Mountain says, stepping around Dew and heading back toward the greenhouse, intent on leaving Dew, and Soot, to their crypt visit. “Just…don’t do it again ok?” 

“What befriend an animal?” Dew rolls his eyes. “Not like I can control which animals like me better!” 

Mountain shakes his head. “Just…stay away from my ravens.”

“Oh, is now a bad time to tell you that one of them brought me money the other day? Do they do that to you?” 

Mountain groans, not dignifying that with a real response. His whole walk back to the greenhouse is filled with the sound of Dew’s distant laughter.

[slyscoutess]

paring: enzo vogrincic x fem!reader [ no faceclaim ] summary: your boyfriend, enzo, needs to lose a lot of weight during the filming of his new movie. You decided that you wouldn't let it be a torture for him, discovering and sharing new recipes together. writer: I always find myself thinking about Enzo talking about how it was a great time for him, the time he needed to lose weight. And I got the little idea of ​​him being quite domestic with his girlfriend, trying out those new recipes that would help with the weight loss journey.

( tradução para o português )

liked by franromerofran, vogrincicenzo, annafntoni and 123 others

yourusername It's been 84 years since this house went on a mandatory diet, mainly because I wouldn't leave Enzo completely alone in this, and now father and son are both kinda grumpy

view all 34 comments

simonhempe pipito suffering from having to eat healthily, just like me fr

yourusername He is suffering because his father can no longer spoil him with food, gato arruinado

moratodeschini give the cat what he wants, the man I don't really care????

kuku.esteban I'm in favor of hiring pipo to act in pipe's place, almost same name

rocco.posca wtf??? Why does your breakfast seem to be tastier than it should be??

matiasrecalt My meals are so tasteless I'm thinking about throwing myself off the cabbage tree vogrincicenzo thank god is my girlfriend who cook this type of thing for me

pipegonzalezotano missing real food hour

paubaldini this seems soo good, i'm gonna ugly cry

Enzo woke up that morning with a sense of calm and determination that enveloped him like a gentle hug. The sunlight, filtered through the partly open curtains, painted the room with a golden aura, making him feel as though he were immersed in a peaceful dream. Nestled between soft sheets, he allowed his mind to adjust to waking up, absorbing the serenity that permeated the environment. The enticing aroma of coffee wafted through the air, filling him with anticipation and comfort. He knew, without needing to get up, that his girlfriend was already in the kitchen, preparing breakfast with care and love. It was a ritual of connection, a way to start the day together, sharing not only meals but also dreams and aspirations.

The weight loss journey for his role in "The Snow Society" had become more than just a professional goal. It had become a central part of their lives, a shared journey that strengthened their bond and united them in a common purpose. They had embraced this journey together, facing challenges and celebrating victories side by side. Every morning, as they smelled the fresh coffee and contemplated the soft light flooding the room, they renewed their mutual commitment to care for each other and themselves. It was more than just losing weight for a role; it was about taking care of their bodies, nurturing their minds, and strengthening their relationship through mutual support and camaraderie.

With a gentle yawn, Enzo stretched in bed, letting the last remnants of sleep escape his body. Wearing his comfortable pajama shorts, he prepared for another day filled with challenges and adventures alongside his partner. Aware of the possibilities the day held, he filled himself with determination and curiosity, readily willing to face whatever came his way. As he stepped through the partly open door of the kitchen, Enzo was greeted by the familiar and comforting sound of hot water passing through the coffee filter. The welcoming aroma filled the room, enveloping him in an aura of comfort and familiarity. His girlfriend was focused, her skilled hands carefully cutting fresh fruits, ready to compose the perfect breakfast. The morning ritual of preparing the first meal of the day together was a tangible expression of their love and mutual commitment.

As he watched his partner work with skill, Enzo couldn't help but smile at Pipo, the couple's lazy cat, elegantly stretched out on the counter, lazily watching the kitchen activity. The feline was a constant presence in their lives, bringing comfort and joy with its serene and indolent personality. Enzo approached the counter, enveloping his girlfriend in a hug from behind, planting a loving kiss on her neck. The atmosphere was imbued with a tranquil serenity, as if the very air were suffused with an aura of peace. The gentle clinking of knives cutting fresh fruit was the only sound breaking the silence, creating a delicate and comforting melody that filled the kitchen. Enzo, entering quietly, contemplated the scene with a sense of calm and admiration.

His girlfriend was immersed in her work, her graceful and precise movements revealing the dedication and care she put into each task, not only in meal preparation but also in nurturing their relationship. Every fruit cut was executed with a mastery that denoted years of practice and love for the culinary arts. Enzo watched her with a sparkle in his eyes, marveling at his partner's skill and grace. It was as if she were dancing among the ingredients, moving with a natural harmony and fluidity that captivated his heart. In her delicate gestures, he saw not only a master in the kitchen but also a committed companion intent on making every shared moment special and meaningful.

As the sunlight gently spilled through the window, illuminating the scene with golden hues, Enzo felt inundated with a sense of gratitude and tenderness. That was the essence of the life they had built together: simple moments, yet laden with love and mutual care. And in that moment, as he stood there, silently admiring her, Enzo knew there was no place he'd rather be than by her side, sharing every small moment of the journey they had chosen to walk together.

Enzo felt a comforting warmth spread through his chest as he wrapped his girlfriend in a hug from behind, his arms enveloping her with tenderness and protection. The delicate scent emanating from her enveloped him like an invisible embrace, flooding his senses with a feeling of familiarity and love. She was more than his partner; she was his anchor amidst the storms of life, his source of comfort and strength in times of adversity. Closing his eyes for a brief moment, Enzo allowed himself to sink into that moment of shared intimacy, letting himself be carried away by the comforting sensation of being with the person he loved. Each beat of his heart seemed to echo the deep bond they shared, strengthening their connection and renewing his determination to face the challenges that lay ahead.

As his arms embraced his girlfriend, Enzo felt her gently interrupt the fruit cutting, her fingers sliding down his arm with a gentle caress. It was as if she could read his thoughts, sharing not only his concerns about the necessary weight loss for the role but also his determination to make this journey as bearable and rewarding as possible for both of them. It was in moments like these, surrounded by the calm of the morning and the comforting presence of each other, that Enzo found strength and inspiration to keep moving forward. Knowing they had each other to lean on, to share the joys and burdens of life, was an invaluable gift that he would never cease to cherish.

Enzo knew well that she had delved headfirst into extensive research, consulting nutritionists and exploring various approaches to diet and weight loss. Every article read, every conversation with experts, was an incessant quest for knowledge, an attempt to find the most effective and healthy path to achieve their goals. Her determination was palpable, and Enzo deeply admired her tireless dedication. Together, they had turned all that knowledge into action, developing a carefully crafted meal plan. Every meal was meticulously planned, ensuring they received all the necessary nutrients to sustain their bodies during the intense weight loss process. However, the plan wasn't just about nutritional aspects; they also made sure that each dish was an enjoyable gastronomic experience, preserving the taste and pleasure of food.

Enzo felt a profound sense of gratitude for having such a dedicated and loving partner by his side. She not only shared their goals but also invested her time and energy to ensure they achieved success together. It was a clear demonstration of the mutual commitment they nurtured, not only regarding weight loss but also in building and strengthening their relationship. As the comforting aroma of coffee filled the kitchen, Enzo took a moment to appreciate the tranquility of the moment. There, next to his partner, he knew that no matter how challenging the road ahead might be, they would be together.

liked by pipegonzalezotano, matiasrecalt, paulabaldini and 104 others

yourusername Today's lunch featured seafood, and for dessert, Enzo stole tangerines from the neighbor and pretended it was normal (which it probably is for him, since we don't buy tangerines and he's always eating one).

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kuku.esteban Tomorrow it will be in all the newspapers in Latin America: Uruguayan actor steals mixiricas and an INCAPABLE elderly man

vongrincicenzo incapable is me, that old man is in excellent condition

franromerofran stop immediately, you are prohibited from posting delicious food

yourusername that's my boyfriend fran franromerofran STOP

pipegonzalezotano NO MORE SALAD I BEG YOU

rocco.posca Another day, another desire to live in the Vogrincic house

feliperamusiomora petition for enzo to let us sleep on his couch vogrincicenzo petition denied, and don't listen to nena, she shouldn't agree

agustinpardella I can smell the shrimp in the photo, I'm going crazy

alfosinacarrocio I'm stopping in front of your house immediately

Enzo was sitting on the balcony of the apartment, immersed in his lines as he reviewed the script for his next project. The golden afternoon sun bathed the surroundings, gently warming his face and illuminating the space around him. The warm breeze blew softly, carrying with it the fresh scent of flowers from the garden below.

However, even amidst his concentration, something caught his attention. His eyes diverted from the paper and fixed on the tangerine trees in the front house. It was a simple yet captivating sight. The branches laden with small citrus fruits swayed gently in the wind, creating a delicate and mesmerizing dance. That old house had always held a charm over Enzo since he and his girlfriend moved into the apartment. The weathered walls and windows adorned with lace curtains evoked a sense of nostalgia and romance that he simply adored. But it was the tangerine trees that truly fascinated him.

Every time he looked at those small bushes, Enzo was transported to a place of tranquility and calm. With determination, Enzo carefully placed Pipo, his sleepy cat that was on his lap, onto the balcony table. He felt the slight weight of the feline transfer to the wood as he rose, ready to venture out. The sun still gently bathed the surroundings, casting playful shadows across the furniture.

Enzo leaned, but did not close, the balcony door silently, letting the cat enjoy the fresh air as he ventured outside. Passing through the kitchen, a delicious aroma of home-cooked food enveloped him. His girlfriend, wearing one of his oversized t-shirts and denim shorts, was focused on preparing lunch. Her hair fell casually over her shoulders as she skillfully stirred a pot. A wave of desire washed over him as he saw her there, so natural and beautiful in the simplicity of that everyday moment. Enzo felt an intense urge to approach her, to envelop her in his arms and whisper words of love. But he resisted, knowing he had a mission to accomplish that day.

With a discreet smile on his lips, Enzo restrained himself, averting his gaze with determination. With careful steps, he left the house and closed the door with a gentle click, ensuring there was no noise to disturb the tranquility inside. The wood of the door fit perfectly into the frame, as if cooperating with his intention to leave without attracting attention.

As the sun began to bathe the kitchen with its golden rays, the current cook of the house began to feel the gentle touch of Pipo sliding down her leg. She was surprised by the cat's presence there, knowing that at that time, he would probably be enjoying the sun on the balcony with Enzo. With a curious smile, she bent down to pet the feline and asked in a soft voice, "What are you doing here, Pipo? Where's your dad?" Pipo looked at her with his large curious eyes but made no sound in response. His tail moved slowly from side to side, as if subtly communicating something.

Intrigued, the woman picked up the cat and decided to investigate. With light steps and the cat nestled between her arms, she headed to the balcony, where she hoped to find her boyfriend. Upon reaching the glass door that separated the kitchen from the outdoor space, a gentle breeze caressed her face, bringing with it the fresh scent of plants and flowers. Her eyes scanned the balcony, looking for Enzo, but he wasn't there. She furrowed her brow, confused by his absence, but her heart warmed at the tranquil and serene scene before her. The sun's rays painted everything with golden hues, creating an atmosphere of peace and serenity.

With a contented sigh, Enzo's girlfriend approached the table, where Pipo used to settle next to his boyfriend. She imagined Enzo there, immersed in his thoughts or perhaps reviewing the script while the cat slept peacefully by his side. Realizing that Enzo wasn't on the balcony, his girlfriend began to search for him, talking to Pipo as she looked around. "Where did your dad go?" she muttered, while the cat meowed in response, as if trying to help in the search.

Her gaze eventually found Enzo in the front house, using his t-shirt to make a basket and pick tangerines from the neighbor's tree. With a playful smile, she greeted the man who lived in the house, saying, "Good morning, Mr. Oliveira!"

Enzo, surprised by his girlfriend's sudden appearance, quickly looked up and, in doing so, lost his balance, dropping some of the fruits he had picked, feeling somewhat embarrassed as he tried to retrieve the tangerines that had rolled out of the makeshift basket. His girlfriend chuckled softly at the situation, approaching to help him gather the fallen fruits. Enzo smiled, feeling relieved that it was just another playful joke from his beloved, until the voice of the neighboring gentleman emerged not as distant as he would have liked. "Good morning, dear, how's your afternoon going?" he addressed the neighbor with a wave, working in his garden not so far from the tangerine trees. Enzo's eyes widened quickly; it was clear that she would know about it, taking time to talk to her neighbor when she wasn't working and Enzo wasn't home. Enzo and his girlfriend looked at each other, sharing a knowing smile before Enzo quickly ran back to his apartment, leaving the freshly picked tangerines on the kitchen counter. Upon arriving home, he found his girlfriend still chatting with the neighbor on the balcony. He smiled to see her so comfortable but decided to surprise her and continue playing the role of the good guy to the old man who lived in the house across the street.

With light steps, Enzo pretended to leave the house for the first time that day, yawning exaggeratedly and stretching as he approached her from behind. The gentle breeze played with his hair as he approached, his loose t-shirt adorning his body casually. One of his hands slid gently to her waist, while the other stretched in a theatrical yawn. He leaned in to gently kiss the top of her head, his lips brushing lightly against her hair as he spoke.

"Ah, good morning, babe," he murmured sleepily, trying to maintain a tone of surprise in his voice. "Good morning, Mr. Oliveira!" his voice now a bit louder, as he greeted the neighbor, waving gently to him, who waved back. His girlfriend turned with a smile on her lips as she felt Enzo's touch, her eyes sparkling with amusement as she realized what he was doing, deciding to play along. "Good morning, sleepyhead," she replied, laughing softly. "Are you aware that it's already lunchtime?"

Enzo laughed, feeling happy to be sharing that relaxed moment with her. "You know how it is, I was up late last night, it was reealy hard to sleep," he joked, gently squeezing his girlfriend's waist in a loving gesture. The neighbor, who was watching the scene with a friendly smile, once again drew the couple's attention, engaging in a new conversation with the woman, occasionally bringing up Enzo, who, in turn, smiled at the neighbor, conveying an impression of courtesy and friendliness, but his thoughts were fully focused on the woman by his side.

Unable to resist the growing desire within him, Enzo let his hands slowly descend to her hips, feeling the softness of her skin beneath his fingers, which soon wandered to one side of her ass, still pretending normalcy, as if listening to the whole conversation. He gently squeezed it, conveying a subtle signal of possessiveness and affection as the conversation continued. Time seemed to slow down as they exchanged words with the neighbor, but inside, Enzo was eager for the moment when they would be alone again. Each touch, each glance exchanged with his girlfriend only heightened his longing for her.

As Enzo enveloped his girlfriend in a passionate embrace, she gently interrupted the effusive exchange of affection to address a few words to the neighbor, who was still watching from below. "Mr. Oliveira, I think it's time for lunch. Let's resume this conversation later, okay?" she said, smiling at the man as she slowly moved away from Enzo's embrace.

The neighbor nodded understandingly. "Of course, no problem! See you later, kids," he replied with a friendly smile before heading back to his house. With the brief interaction concluded, Enzo's girlfriend turned to him, ready to resume the moment of intimacy they had interrupted. However, before she could say anything, she felt Enzo's head bury into her neck, his arms wrapping around her from behind.

She sighed softly, feeling a shiver run down her spine with the light kisses Enzo left on her neck. It was a simple gesture, but filled with affection and tenderness, which made her feel loved and desired. The kisses gradually turned into nibbles, causing the woman to lean back into her boyfriend's warm touch, who in turn pressed his hips more against hers, his lips delicately moving to her ear. "Let's go inside, babe, I need to eat something…" he whispered in her ear, his voice husky and incredibly endearing, he knew well when and how to use it. "Lunch is ready, we can serve ourselves now, my love," she commented. Enzo chuckled playfully at her response, squeezing her more in his arms with tenderness. "Always thinking about food, huh?" He said with a teasing smile, his lips gently brushing against her neck as he spoke. "But I think I can make an effort not to completely exhaust you, after all, the smell of lunch is so good that it would be a sin not to enjoy it later," he whispered, before pulling her back into the house again.

liked by agustinpardella, kuku.esteban, paulabaldini and 113 others

yourusername Time to replenish some shortages in the fridge, and Pipito decided he didn't want to leave Enzo's lap, or was it Enzo who decided not to let go of the cat?

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moratodeschini Living or just waiting for the moment when I'll steal Enzo's cat and girl?

vongrincicenzo please don't feliperamusiomora I'm right here, you know?

simonhempe pipito just living the life I dream of

yourusername you dream abou my boyfriend's lap? vogrincicenzo I also dream about u

pipegonzalezotano your fridge must be very sad

rocco.posca just waiting for her to decide what they are going to eat for dinner so she can give me the drive with the recipes for my menu for tomorrow

matiasrecalt Rocco said something about uploads a recipe drive every night, nena send it to me

kuku.esteban It's good that you went out shopping and aren't stealing from other people's houses

agustinpardella Who's to say they didn't steal from the market? jeronimogiocondobosia and tomorrow in the daily newspaper . . .

As Enzo and his partner walked through the aisles filled with shelves brimming with colorful and aromatic ingredients, a package of pasta caught her attention. With a smile on her lips, she picked it up, displaying it with a curious gaze. "What kind of sauce do you prefer today, love?" Her voice carried a note of curiosity, as if she were ready to venture into creating a new dish. Enzo, staring at the package with anticipation in his eyes, considered for a moment before replying, his smile widening as he imagined the flavors blending perfectly.

"How about a well-seasoned tomato sauce?" he suggested, his mind already running through the steps to prepare the dish. He could visualize the fresh tomatoes being cut into juicy pieces, the aroma of garlic browning in the pan, and the spices dancing around, ready to transform the simple pasta into a culinary masterpiece. His partner nodded with a smile of approval and said softly, "You know, I was thinking, we could try that recipe we saw on TikTok? It looked delicious and would be a great option for breakfast."

Enzo smiled, agreeing with the idea. "We can do that tomorrow morning. I think it will be a perfect way to start the day." As they continued to wait in line at the checkout, Enzo felt a comforting warmth as he held his partner's hand. It was a simple gesture, but it filled his heart with love and gratitude. He realized how lucky he was to have someone so special by his side.

Enzo looked at his partner and said with a sincere smile, "You always have the best ideas . . ." He quickly heard his girlfriend's laughter, as she hugged onto his arm, a great deal of affection in her laughter. As they waited in the checkout line, the tranquil atmosphere of the market seemed to envelop them in a cocoon of intimacy. Enzo felt her body heat drawing closer, and before he could realize it, she gently rested her face on his shoulder, their gazes meeting in a moment of complicity. Her eyes sparkled with tenderness as they looked at him, conveying a feeling of affection and connection that filled Enzo's heart with a sweet sensation of love. He could feel the warmth of her breath, each beat of her heart seemed to echo in perfect harmony with his own. Without thinking too much, Enzo let his instincts guide his actions. With an almost instinctive gentleness, he leaned forward slightly, capturing her lips in a quick and delicate kiss. It was a simple gesture, but full of meaning, an expression of affection that spoke volumes without the need for words. Her lips responded to the touch, their hearts dancing in unison, sealing the moment with a sweet promise of mutual love and unconditional support. The world around them seemed to fade away, leaving only the two of them, lost in their own little universe of affection and love.

"I have to start changing supermarkets," Enzo and his partner were immersed in their own world, lost in the sweet moment they shared, when a familiar voice interrupted their bubble of intimacy. It was the lively voice of Matias Recalt, certainly the couple's best and closest friend, approaching with a shopping basket. "A little modesty, please," exclaimed Matias, with a playful smile on his face. Enzo and his partner quickly separated, blushing slightly at the surprise of being caught in such an intimate moment. They exchanged quick glances, sharing a shy smile before greeting Matias. "Hi, Matias!" said Enzo, trying to disguise his surprise. "How are you?" Matias laughed, noticing the slight tension in the air. "Sorry for interrupting your romantic moment. I hope I was being intrusive!" The woman laughed, shaking her head. "Don't worry, Matias, we just got a little distracted." Enzo agreed, relieved to see Matias's easygoing nature. "Oh, didn't even notice."

As they waited in the checkout line, the conversation between the three flowed naturally, as it always did when they were together. Matias shared some funny stories about his day, and Enzo couldn't help but laugh, while his partner smiled, enjoying the friends' banter.

Meanwhile, they went through their purchases, each carrying their baskets towards the checkout. The atmosphere was light and relaxed, and Enzo felt grateful for the presence of their friends. When it was finally their turn at the checkout, Matias bid them farewell with a wave, wishing them a good night. Enzo and his partner thanked him for the enjoyable encounter and exchanged more smiles before heading out of the market.

The cool night air enveloped them as they exited, and Enzo and his girlfriend walked together towards their parked bicycles. They intertwined their hands, a simple yet meaningful connection that symbolized the support and affection they shared.

"And that would be another almost end of the day," said Enzo, looking at his partner with a smile. She nodded, agreeing. "Yes, even though it was interrupted at the end."

Enzo laughed, agreeing with her. "True, I found it funny he wrote down everything you bought so he could cook tomorrow." They reached their bicycles and, together, mounted them, ready to head back home.

liked by matiasrecalt, blaspolidori, dellagustin and 109 others

yourusername Ending the day with the cast on The Sims.

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blaspolidori enzo playing himself playing on the sims

yourusername he was planning our wedding vogrincicenzo and you're the flower boy, blas

simonhempe everyone of the cast?

yourusername there are some that are not filmbayona I am? yourusername yes, but you mysteriously starved

pipegonzalezotano tell me that at least then I'm watching football eating real meat

rocco.posca I hope you downloaded a mod for my hair

matiasrecalt I love this game I'm the same height as blas

moratodeschini should we tell Enzo that she has wicked whims??

alfosinacarrocio let's wait for the reaction vogrincicenzo guys . . . it was so much out of nowhere

After a peaceful and comforting night, Enzo and his girlfriend decided to spend some time together playing The Sims. Sitting comfortably on his lap, she skillfully held the mouse while he watched attentively at the computer screen, immersed in the virtual world unfolding before them. Together, they built a small fictional community with characters from the movie cast, with every detail carefully planned to reflect their tastes and personalities. Enzo was fascinated watching his girlfriend's creativity flow as she decorated the houses, chose the furniture, and planned the sims' careers. It was as if they were creating their own world, where they could escape the daily worries and get lost in imaginary adventures.

As she delved into the game, Enzo appreciated the opportunity to simply observe her, marveling at how her expression brightened with every achievement and challenge overcome. Feeling the warmth of her presence on his lap was comforting, a constant reminder of the love and companionship they shared. Enzo watched closely at the computer screen as his girlfriend manipulated the game controls. Suddenly, an interaction between the sim representing him and the one representing his girlfriend caught his attention. He watched with fascination as the sims exchanged gestures of affection, somehow reflecting the dynamics of their own relationship.

However, his surprise soon turned to shock when suddenly the game activated a mod known as Wicked Whims. His face twisted in a expression of surprise and confusion as he witnessed the explicitly romantic interactions between the sims, far beyond what he was used to seeing in the game. Turning to his girlfriend, who was still comfortably seated on his lap, Enzo asked incredulously, "What's going on? Is this how the game is now?" His voice carried a mixture of curiosity and uncertainty as he tried to process what he had just witnessed. She simply smiled gently, noticing his confusion. With a reassuring touch on his shoulder, she explained that this was not the game in its original form, but rather a fan-made modification to add a new layer of realism and complexity to the sims' interactions."Oh, so our reality is to just start hooking up out of nowhere?"

"It's not like you can keep those hands off me…" Enzo chuckled at his girlfriend's response. His laughter was a mix of relief and amusement as he settled comfortably in the chair, his hands automatically gently squeezing her waist, as if seeking closer contact to dispel the surprise. As his fingers lightly caressed her waist, Enzo felt comforted by her presence on his lap. "Apparently she's eating for two now… maybe we could try that out here too, right nena?"

[clangenrising]

Month 10 - Leafbare

Scorchplume had never been more comfortable in her life - well, aside from the itching pain in her rear end, but that would surely fade in time. 

It hadn’t been like that at first. Her first several days in captivity were spent in a cold little cage, desperately fawning over any human who would come near to try and earn their favor. They were the ones who would decide if she would become Exalted or discarded with the Chaff on the streets. Most of the other cats in the cages stared and whispered, well familiar with her and her reputation. She wondered if they judged her for her desperate displays of affection but their opinion became irrelevant when she was finally taken to be altered and awoke with both ears intact. 

Shortly after that, she’d been taken home by one of the human attendants at the Judgement House who she had managed to endear herself to. She’d spent a day or so trapped in a small room, being closely watched by the human and sometimes by her two kits. The kits brought Scorch rich tunas and enthralling balls of glitter. She knew that her new position as a House Cat came with expectations to watch over and entertain her new Folk and so she obliged the kits when they tried to entice her into a game. 

She sometimes imagined that Goldenstar or Yarrowshade would enjoy these games, that she might enjoy playing beside them, and she always forced herself to crush those feelings into dust. Such thoughts would only weigh her down and she couldn’t afford any distractions.

After another few days, she was let out into the rest of the house. She took careful time exploring the place, mapping every detail in her mind. She memorized the hiding places, investigated the vantage points, noted all the doors and windows and how closely they were guarded by the Folk. 

It was an interesting place, the house. It was so pristine. Everything was human made and free of dirt or grass or what have you. The food was given to her at the same time every day and the Folk had brought a bit of sand inside for her to bury her waste in. She couldn’t seem to figure out where they put their own waste, although it seemed to have something to do with the room they insisted on going into alone.

The Folk had brought a strange pine tree inside, one that smelled like plastic instead of needles, and covered it with strange shining orbs and crinkly vines. She had tried to investigate it further but the Folk didn’t seem to like it when she did and she had decided not to risk their anger by probing further. 

Still, despite the place’s strangeness, her time there had been marked by a level of comfort she had never known in her life. She never had to want for food and could usually earn extra morsels with a humble enough prayer. There were so many soft places to sleep, many of them in perfect beams of sunlight. The weather seemed entirely absent, the house staying perfectly warm even as the world outside was covered in thick, white snow. Scorch had found a soft perch jutting out of one of the windows that seemed perfect for observing the world outside. There wasn’t much to see, but sometimes she chose to pass the time there, watching birds. 

That was… until one day when, while sitting on her perch she spotted another cat sitting on the fence and staring at her. Immediately, her heart began to pound and she leapt down to hide beneath the couch. Who had that been? She racked her brains for the names and faces of any brown tabbies in Razor’s band and came up with too many answers to be useful. She spent the rest of the night cowering under furniture until dinner, then clung closely to the Folk while they slept. She hated that she felt safer tucked against their huge, warm bodies but she did. She had never been religious but she understood now why so many House Cats worshiped their Folk. There was a certain power they held and a level of kindness that felt vaguely alien yet all encompassing in their presence. 

The next day, after breakfast, Scorch chanced a look through the big window overlooking the back garden. The snow was marked with paw prints. Her stomach twisted in dread. She took a slow deep breath, tried to think clearly, but it was hard over the alarms going off throughout her entire body. She had been found. It was only a matter of time before Razor came calling. She shut her eyes tightly and tried to force down the bile rising in her throat. 

Stars, she could smell his breath, hear the rumble of his laugh, feel his teeth in her fur--

She gagged and bent over double, paw pads slick with fear sweat. Her pelt crawled as she desperately tried to settle her churning stomach. What was wrong with her?! Her survival depended on keeping a cool head and a cooler disposition. She had to get herself under control or she was going to have to keep herself confined to this house for the rest of her life. She briefly considered the idea - hiding under the protection of her Folk and getting used to the stale house air and the taste of kibble - but she knew that she would eventually go mad in such a small, unchanging territory. She had been born to roam and as gentle as her Folk had been, she needed to leave eventually. 

“Are you alright?” a voice on the other side of the glass startled her and she flinched backwards in a puff of ginger fur. A smiling feline face and two bright, copper eyes stared back at her. The cat in front of her was a sleek, blue-furred molly wearing a rusty red collar with a shiny little bell. She was bigger than Scorchplume, but only slightly, and she didn’t seem to mind the cold thanks to her thick winter pelt. 

Scorch took a deep breath and laid her hackles to rest before responding, “Yes, I’m fine. Just a nasty ache from the Altering.” 

“Oh, yikes,” the cat winced sympathetically. “I've heard that's the worst. Don’t let your Folk catch you picking at the wound though, they’ll put you in a cone.” 

“Good to know,” Scorch said, forcing a smile. She had no idea what a cone was but she wasn’t eager to find out. 

“I’m Mystique,” the stranger said brightly.

“Scorch,” she replied with a charming curl of her tail. 

“It’s a pleasure to finally meet you,” purred Mystique. “I’ve heard a lot about you.” 

“Only good things, I hope,” Scorch chuckled, imagining the way Razor’s band might speak about her. 

“Of course,” Mystique nodded. “You’ve got quite the reputation. I’m glad you finally joined us among the Exalted. Some thought you were Chaff, but I knew better.” Scorch grinned and dipped her head graciously. Mystique cocked her head to the side with curiosity and asked, “How did you end up with your Folk, by the way? No one has seen you for months and then suddenly here you are!”

Scorch thought fast. Her next words were important. Was it better to admit she had been caught in a stupid mistake or should she try to pretend it had been intentional? What answer was both believable and advantageous?

“I did some exploring,” Scorch started, “then I grew tired of it. I saw a trap and thought that seemed like the fastest way to come home.” She knew there was probably a better story out there but she didn’t have time to think of it. This one would have to do. 

“Tooth and claw!” laughed Mystique. “You’re definitely as bold as they say.” 

“What brings you to my garden?” Scorch asked, whiskers twitching with interest. 

Mystique shifted, glancing over her shoulder, and said, “I’m your neighbor! Heard you had moved in and thought I ought to say hello.” She shifted again and Scorch made note of the way her smile flickered momentarily. She was hiding something and Scorch could only assume that she had been instructed to pay a ‘friendly’ visit. 

“How lovely,” Scorch purred. 

“I’ll probably be around if you ever need me,” Mystique offered. “The Folk usually don’t let you out of the house until the Alteration has fully healed, but I can pass along any messages for you or let you know about the goings on.” 

“Oh, really?” Scorch perked her ears. “I’d love to hear about the recent events. Like I said, I’ve been away and haven’t been able to catch up on gossip.” 

“Hmm,” Mystique ran her tongue over one of her paws and passed it over an ear as she thought. “All the buzz lately has been around these barbarian cats living north of the city. Razor is making moves to seize their territory for a hunting ground.” 

“Really?” Scorch put on amazement. “I didn’t realize the rumors of cultists and savages were true!” 

“Right?” laughed Mystique. “I honestly wish I could see them for myself. Apparently they’re harboring a Chaff Transgressor.” 

“Fascinating,” Scorch said. “I’ll have to ask Razor for the details when he comes to visit.” And he would. She wished he wouldn’t but she knew it was inevitable. 

“Yeah,” shrugged Mystique. “You might be waiting a while, though. He’s overseeing the next push, probably going to be busy for a while.” 

“I see,” Scorch said, trying to figure out if she was relieved or worried by that news. “Do let me know when he gets back, yes?” 

“Of course,” grinned Mystique, “will do. He’s probably pretty eager to see you.” 

“Likewise,” Scorch said. Her guts squirmed and clenched nauseatingly.

[weemsfreak]

Fic request: Larissa with a kitty friend, please

Cairo

Your wish is my command. How about a few kitty friends?

Thank you for this request! I am slowly making progress on works that are not my usual genre and this was a good break :) ~2.4k words

November…the month of sunny, windy and crisp days. A harsh breeze sent a chill down Larissa's back as she made her way to the Weathervane. As soon as her heels clacked against the hard floor, the smell of coffee beans and warmth engulfed her. It's not that her coat wasn't warm, after all it was wool, she was just easily susceptible to the cold.

After ordering a hot chocolate to go, Larissa reluctantly stepped back out into the town square. She started toward the Nevermore van which was parked outside of the therapists office. Lost in thought in an attempt to distract herself from the chill, she almost didn't hear the distant meowing coming from behind her. She stopped in her tracks, did she hear something?

"Meow"

Larissa knit her brows as she spun around and found her gaze on the ground. There was a skinny black cat with fangs and shiny yet scruffy fur, sitting on the sidewalk, looking expectantly at her.

"Mew"

Larissa looked around for who's cat it could've been before concluding that it must be a stray. The cat's large green eyes and Larissa's bright blue's focused on each other, as if they were having a staring contest, before Larissa lost. She blinked.

"Meow"

Larissa sighed and crouched down, making a psspss sound and holding out her hand. The black cat cautiously walked closer, sniffing her glove lightly. Larissa pat it softly on the head until the cat got comfortable and smacked its face into her palm, deciding to use her hand as a scratching post.

"Mrrrrah" the cat purred. Larissa chuckled.

When she realized how long she had been out in the cold, she stood. The cat stared up at her once again before it took to walking circles around her feet, tail swaying elegantly. Larissa noticed the cats prominent back bones and realized that it must be hungry. She debated running to the store and buying some cat food, but as she looked toward the therapists office, her student was exiting the building.

"Sorry little one, I have to go" and she left.

❅❅❅

One day after school the next week, Larissa ventured to the liquor store. She had to park on a rather grungy road, as it was oddly busy today. She walked past an old abandoned church and  noticed a hole in the base that lead to underneath. 'This is an eyesore' she thought, shaking her head and continuing on.

As she carried her wine back to her rather far away car, she took note of a cat wandering around the sidewalk. It looked just like the black cat from last week, but it didn't seem too friendly with others. She watched a few people try to shoo it away, even though it wasn't close, it actually seemed to be wary of them. A couple of teenagers eyed it and let out disgusted gags, and Larissa winced as one spooked the cat by running at it. She shook her head in dismay.

Larissa knew that black cats were often associated with witchery or thought of as omens of bad luck, but what was wrong with that? They were just precious little animals, and she actually really liked them. She thought that someone or something who could be described as an 'outcast' or the 'odd one out' was enticing, they were usually interesting, usually pure souls. As she got to her car and placed the drinks in her trunk, she heard a familiar sound coming from beside her.

"Meow"

The black cat didn't hesitate to run up to her, purring as it rubbed against her ankles.

A smile lit up her face. "Hi darling" she said joyfully, crouching down to pet the cat.

"Mrrahh"

Larissa noticed suddenly that there was a dead mouse on the sidewalk in front of the cat, which was now right in front of her.

"Oh, god" she said, turning her head away and scrunching up her face. Larissa decided she would buy the cat some food, she was going to the grocery store anyway.

❅❅❅

The store had many flavours and brands of cat food, and Larissa hadn't owned a pet before. After searching the internet for the best brand of cat food, she bought a few cans of chicken, did her shopping, and left.

❅❅❅

Larissa pulled a can of food out of the bag and walked around the town square, searching for the black cat. It wasn't at the Weathervane, it wasn't at Uriah's heap, and it wasn't at the flower shop. She walked around every which way, sure she had covered most of the streets by now. As a particularly cold wind hit her legs and made her shiver so hard that she dropped the can of food, she thought about how stupid this was, searching in the cold for a stray cat. 

She had ventured down a dead end street, and just as she turned around to walk back up, the black cat was running towards her.

"Mowww""

The annoyance Larissa felt disappeared instantly, and she opened the can of food and placed it on the sidewalk.

"Here you go, love" she whispered, pushing it towards the cat.

It sniffed the food, walked a circle as if searching for something, and then started licking the contents of the can. The cat only ate for a few seconds though, before it looked at Larissa wide eyed.

"Mrow"

It then turned and trotted away.

Larissa was confused, was it not hungry? Surely it had to be, it was skin and bones. She watched the cat as it turned a corner and she picked up the can, deciding to follow close behind.

The black cat led her down two streets, the second familiar to her. It was the grungy street she had never been on before, not until she parked here earlier today. Larissa watched the black cat as it crouched down and made it's way underneath the abandoned church. Larissa's face fell in disgust but also in remorse. No wonder the poor cat took shelter in there, it was chilly out, and it would soon be terribly cold.

With reluctance, Larissa moved closer to the hole in the wall and turned on her phone flashlight. When she bent down and peered into the hole, eight bright eyes were staring back at her.

"Oh!" she exclaimed, pulling away.

The abundance of eyes caught her off guard, and she dropped her phone on the sidewalk. As she went to pick it up, the black cat emerged from underneath the church and licked her gloved hand with its rough tongue. She turned her flashlight back on and shone it into the hole, three kittens were nervously staring back, eyes big. Surprised and saddened, Larissa's lip quivered. The black cat must've been hunting earlier to feed her babies. She felt incredibly guilty that they were stuck out in the cold with nowhere to go.

"You’re a mom" she said in acknowledgement, turning her attention to the black cat.

"Meow"

Larissa placed the can of food into the hole, careful not to startle the kittens. She sat up onto her knees and scratched the black cat behind the ear. Larissa smiled in knowing.

"So am I."

❅❅❅

As the weather grew colder, Larissa visited the black cat whenever she was in town. She had fed the kittens and gave them water on multiple occasions, as she knew that any water they'd find would surely be frozen. She had become attached to the black cat, often thinking of her and the kittens throughout her work days at Nevermore. The poor cat was strong and brave, she was inspiring. Larissa knew she'd do anything for her kittens, just as she would for her students. She hoped that they would be alright during the winter, she prayed that they wouldn't freeze or starve.

Larissa hadn't owned a pet throughout her lifetime. She loved animals dearly, but her parents  never allowed her to have a companion. When she moved out, she didn't have time to take care of an animal, as she was always on the run.

She couldn't get the black cat or the kittens out of her mind, no matter how hard she tried. She couldn't help but think that they'd be safer at Nevermore with her, they would be healthier, warmer, and happier. Right?

❅❅❅

Larissa set out to the town one December day, deliberately walking past the abandoned church. The snow that had fallen stood a foot high, and frost was evident in the places where the snow had been removed. She felt helpless knowing that there were stray cats and kittens, her stray cat and her kittens, stuck out in this weather. She dug out her phone and turned on the flashlight as her hands shook, shining it into the hole in the wall.

The black cat was huddled up with her three kittens, licking them to get their blood flowing and keep them warm.

"Oh, my darlings" she murmured. She couldn't bare to see them like that, obviously frozen and tortured. The beautiful black cat taking care of her babies warmed her heart, but she deserved to be taken care of as well.

❅❅❅

The next day, two Nevermore employees arrived at the abandoned church in a van. Unsure, they stepped onto the sidewalk, easily finding the hole in the base of the church. They looked at each other in confirmation before one of them crouched down, finding the black cat and three kittens in the hole.

"Aw, they must be cold" he said. He then stretched his arm out toward the mother cat, but she flashed her teeth as she hissed at him.

"Shit!" the man nervously spat, pulling away.

The other man tried to reach the black cat, but she carefully moved herself and her babies out of his proximity when he stuck his hand in the hole.

After a good twenty minutes, the men decided that it was no use.

"I guess we should call principal Weems."  "Yeah."

The principal was a bit fed up that she had to go into town today. She had an incredibly busy schedule, how hard was it to capture a cat and her kittens anyway? As she pulled up behind the Nevermore van, the two men were staring down at the hole in the wall. "What's this, now?" she questioned.

After the men explained the situation, Larissa scoffed and kneeled down onto the sidewalk. The black cat immediately recognized her and emerged, rubbing itself against her jacket in delight. The men were surprised, and they placed a crate down onto the sidewalk. Larissa slowly picked the black cat up and took it into her arms.

"I'm going to save you, darling" she whispered. "I'm going to help you and your family."

When Larissa saw no resistance from the cat, she placed her back onto the sidewalk. She then carefully reached in and picked up the kittens one by one, placing them in the crate. The mother cat was the last to go in with her children.

❅❅❅

Larissa smiled in success as she admired the black cat and her babies. She wasn't allowed to have animals inside Nevermore, but she did have an old shed. She had built a tall pen for them to roam around in, and a small shelter insulated with Styrofoam and straw. They had an abundance of food and water, and a heat source outside of their enclosure to ensure that they would never be cold. She had the absolute most fun picking out toys for them, she even bought them treats. They all got medicated baths, so that Larissa could cuddle them knowing that they were healthy.

The most brave kitten was all black, a little boy. There was a black and white mixed cutie who was a shy boy, and an all white fluffy demanding female. Her heart beat with joy and excitement as she watched the kittens play, and she finally felt content having something so special to her.

❅❅❅

One day, Larissa was in her office typing up a report when she heard a small thump against a door. She turned to her balcony doors and found the black cat, paws against the glass.

"Mrowww"

Larissa stood in shock, how did she get out of the shed? She quickly and nervously opened the balcony doors and scooped the cat up, bringing her inside.

"How did you find me little one? Did anyone see you?" she asked, placing the cat in her lap and sitting by the fire. The black cat revelled in the warmth as it nuzzled into Larissa, and she relaxed into the comfort the cat brought her. She purred against Larissa, but as much as she wanted to stay and take in the warmth, she had found Larissa for a reason.

The cat suddenly let out a loud meow, to which Larissa gasped and prayed that nobody heard. The cat jumped off of her lap and ran to the balcony doors, scratching to be let out. Larissa wracked her brain around how she would get the cat back to the shed without anyone seeing, so she decided to let her out and follow her.

Larissa walked quickly outside, finding the cat waiting for her underneath her balcony. As she went to pick her up, the cat ran away from her reach.

"Darling, come here" Larissa said nervously, beginning to walk faster.

The cat eventually started running, but Larissa's panic faded when she realized she was running towards the shed. Larissa found the door to the shed slightly ajar, which was odd, she had locked it. The black cat entered and ran right over to her kittens.

It took Larissa a second to notice that one of the kittens was tangled in thread, it's paw stuck to a unicorn plush.

"Oh baby" Larissa murmured, picking up the white kitten and untangling it gently.

"Mew"

Larissa giggled at the kittens mewls, they made the cutest sounds that she's ever heard. She placed the kitten back down in the pen with her bothers, and took note of the toy. It seemed that someone had broken in, left the door open, and offered the kittens a new plush. She sighed in relief, at least the culprit wasn't someone with bad intentions, Enid must've really wanted to play with the kittens.

"Meow"

The black cat caught Larissa's attention as it rested it's head on her foot.

"Mow"

Larissa chuckled and reached her arms out, scooping the cat up and hugging it close to her chest.

"Who's my brave mom?" Larissa beamed, kissing the black cat on the top of the head.

"Mrrow"

"That's right, Cairo, you are."

[wooahaes]

my movements are all about you

pairing: non-idol!jun x fem!reader

genre: fluff

word count: 0.6k~

warnings: food mention! also reader thinks there’s an intruder in her apartment.

daisy’s notes: i was looking through jewelry trays for too much while trying to come up with a gift for reader...... and i saw one with a little cat sitting in the middle of it and i was like. that’s so cute. jun would.

It was six in the goddamn morning and someone was in your apartment’s kitchen. Once upon a time, this wouldn’t have been a big deal, because roommates were a thing. But when you were just a girl living alone in her apartment... Well... There was a reason you started searching for a makeshift weapon.

With a jewelry tray in your hands (it had a little cat sitting in the middle of it--a present from your beloved Junhui because he saw it and thought of you), you started to inch forward. There were plenty of friends who would let themselves into your apartment, sure, but... That was typically with a call or a text beforehand, and usually not at six in the morning. But you’d heard the sound of a pan clamoring in the other room, and that was enough to jolt you from your slumber with a glance toward your phone. All you needed to do was throw the thing and hope it deterred whoever the hell was out there long enough for you to get out of your apartment and to your neighbors.

With the door open, you could hear the soft sound of humming. With a still half-asleep mind, your first thought was man, this burglar fucking sucks. And then your second was something smells sweet, because the scent hit you all at once. Your grip on the jewelry tray loosened a little as you furrowed your brow. Something hissed from the other room, and the humming continued throughout all of it. The scrape of metal against the bottom of the pan...

You inched forward still, and immediately recognized the sight of Jun standing at your stove. With that, you sighed in relief, feeling your shoulders slump. Thank god it’s only Jun... Who doesn’t live with you. You rubbed at your eyes with one hand.

“Junnie,” you whined, “it’s too early...”

He looked up, taking in the sight of you. His gaze fell to the object in your hand. “Why are you holding your jewelry tray...?”

You pouted, looking back to him, “I heard noises and I didn’t know it was you.”

“Oh.” A pause. You could see the gears turning, and then everything clicked. “Ahh--Honey, you’re not supposed to be awake!”

Maybe so, but how were you supposed to sleep when he must have dropped a pan or something? “Jun, I didn’t think you’d be here this early...”

He let out a long sigh, watching you. “That’s the point of a surprise, honey...” And then he ran a hand through his hair, looking at the french toast he’d already plated for you. There was a bowl of cut strawberries next to it, apparently already placed there for plating. “Now that you know...” He turned back to you, “Can you set the table? I’m almost done here. I was going to do it before I woke you up, but...”

You giggled, making your way over to him. You stole a quick kiss from him, smiling against his lips before turning to get the utensils you needed. And maybe you’d steal another quick peck from him while getting the orange juice from the fridge while he plated his own breakfast. He carried breakfast over to you, your french toast piled high with strawberries and whipped cream, and sat across from you.

“Happy birthday, my love,” he smiled from across the table, head resting in his hand as he watched you cut into it. Even if it meant his food would get cold, he wanted to admire you, first. “I’m sorry I messed up the surprise.”

(And when you looked up at him, cheeks puffed with food because sweets enticed you effortlessly, he had to hold back a laugh so full of love. Maybe next year he’d be able to surprise you for real.)

taglist: @twancingyunhao​ @wonuziex​ @synthetickitsune​ @cinnamoroxie​

[nekohime19]

Heart behind the lie # 24 : Good people can hurt you too

They settle and try a session about the pilgrims, it doesn't go well, but it doens't go bad either

The sun rays fell upon the sage's face, Sun Wukong frowned, disturbed by the warmth nipping at his skin, and tried to hide further in his lil bud, in vain. The sun was a persistent pest. The King woke up, fur disheveled and drool still falling on the side of his mouth, and narrowed his eyes at the porthole. It was quite early, the sun wasn't that high, but still it managed to bother him. He knew he should have made some curtains last night. Sun Wukong curled around his lil sage, and watched her sleep fondly, he wouldn't budge an inch before she woke up. Sock didn't like to wake up to an empty bed, she was bossy like that. 

Sun Wukong looked up when he heard sounds echoing in the other side of the room, he was greeted by the very unfamiliar, but also very cute, sight of an awakening Macaque. The warrior slowly rose, fur sticking up like an urchin and eyes still veiled by drowsiness, he yawned, fangs flashing in the morning soft light, and rubbed his face with his paws. He left his sheets and stretched, stilling a bit when he caught sight of the sage and stifly nodding at him. Sun Wukong nodded back, heart pounding inside of his chest, he wouldn't mind seeing that scene for the rest of his mornings. 

“‘m gonna take a walk.” Muttered the warrior as he left the room, Sun Wukong followed his silhouette with his eyes and, once he was sure he was alone, he collapsed on his lil sage and let his tail wag relentlessly. 

Sock woke up after a few more hours, she licked her cowlicks before allowing the sage to leave the bed. Together, they wandered a little on the airship and ended up in the kitchen, enticed by the smell of food. Pigsy was in the kitchen, bustling around the closets as he was preparing their breakfast, surprisingly enough, Macaque was also there. The warrior was nervously following the pig around, intently listening to him as the chef barked orders. 

“Never thought I would ever find you in a kitchen.” Snickered the sage as he eyed the warrior, not so subtly looking at his naked arms. 

“Yeah, yeah, laugh all you want. Why are you here?”Sighed Macaque, he looked from the pan he was working on and eyed the sage with suspicion. 

“I'm here to feed my lil sage!” Proudly declared the great sage as he picked Sock up, Macaque softened a little at the sight of her. “Sandy told me the cat food was around here…”

“Top left, the closet next to ya.” Replied the chef as he finished a batch of dumplings. Sun Wukong cooed happily and skipped to the said closet, he feed his demanding lil lady and watched her wolfing her food with fondness. 

“Is this the first time you are feeding her or is she just always this hungry?” Snorted the warrior, he left his pan and leaned over the countertop to watch the lil sage inhale her food. 

“She's a real walking belly.” Replied the sage. 

“Macaque! Is the rice done?”Asked the pig with furrowed eyebrows. 

“Almost!”Called Macaque, he turned towards the sage one last time and muttered “Well, I really gotta finish this rice. Or you'll have macaque rice for breakfast.”

“Eww, I don't want to eat your filthy fur.” Snickered the sage. 

“How dare-”

“Macaque! Flirt later, cook now!” The warrior spluttered, ears flickering in embarrassment and returned to his pan. The sage quietly snickered at his misery, enjoying the pout taking place on the other's face. “And if ya're just here to distract my helper, get out of the kitchen, Sun Wukong.” It was the sage's turn to be flustered, he quickly picked up his lil lady, who was happily licking her whiskers after her meal, and ran out of the kitchen with a hammering heart. 

He crossed paths with MK on the deck, the boy was swinging his staff around, probably trying to do some light exercise before breakfast. Sun Wukong observed him a moment before clearing his throat. The kid jumped, surprised, and turned towards him with a sheepish smile. 

“Oh, heyo Monkey King! You slept well?”

“Yeah, I slept with my lil sage, so I slept well.” Chuckled the sage as he played with his lil bud paws, making her wave at his mentee. MK snorted at that and approached him to pet Sock. The lil sage, ever the attention lover, meowed happily and nuzzled in the boy's palm. “You're doing some exercices bud ?”

“O-oh, yeah. You know we haven't been able to train much so I'm trying to stay in shape.”

“Hm, maybe we can train a little after breakfast, what do you say?” Proposed the sage, his mentee’s eyes lightened up instantly and he nodded frantically. Sun Wukong chuckled a bit and let his lil bud go when she started squirming in his arms, she probably saw some bird lingering around the ship and wanted to chase it away, she was awfully territorial after all. “You know… Macaque told me I hurted you, when I was feral. I'm sorry”

“O-oh, it's nothing, really. You weren't of sound mind so it's okay.”

“No it's not.” Cut the great sage, tone low. “Truth is I'm not a very good mentor. With how I dealt with the samadhi fire and all…I'm sorry I put you through that.”

“Well… it's okay, we all make mistakes. I made mistakes all the time.”

“Yeah but I'm not supposed to make mistakes. I'm supposed to protect you.” Sighed the sage, maybe having this sort of talk while he was still in his pinch-printed pajamas wasn't the best idea, he felt nervous. 

“Everyone makes mistakes, Monkey King.” Softly replied his mentee. 

“Not me.” Muttered the King, the phantom touch of the circlet tickling his forehead. They were fortunately cut by the dragon girl before they could delve deeper in their talk. He didn't want to talk about it any further. He knew one sorry wasn't enough to atone for his wrongdoings, but it only meant he would have to work harder, to be better. Sometimes, he wished the circlet was still there, it was easier when he could atone himself through pain. He brushed his somber musing away when he followed the kids to the lounging room. He took his plate from Macaque and muttered with a playfully tilt : “Hope it's not poisoned.” 

“I make no promise.” Replied the warrior with a fanged smile, he sat next to the sage and dug in his own plate. To his great pleasure, the dish wasn't poisoned, he ignored the proud smile blossoming on the warrior's lips when he wolfed down the rice. Even if it was good, he wasn't going to feed Macaque's ego. 

“Why were you helping Pigsy?” Asked the sage after he put his bowl down.

“...Well, he was the last one I didn't talk to…you know, concerning the whole LBD mess and how I wasn't… kind with you guys.”

“You were making amends…”

“You can word it like that, I guess.” Like each time Macaque tried to interact with the group, Sun Wukong was torn between two very opposite feelings. He was proud that the other was trying to be better, but he couldn't help the bitter pang that tore his heart, the jealous thing hissing in his chest (Why did Macaque never try with the pilgrims?). It was unfair to think like that, he knew it, but he couldn't help himself. “You're okay?” Macaque's question pulled him out of his thoughts, he shook his head and awkwardly smiled at the other. 

“Yeah, yeah, I'm okay.”

“You know, I talked with Sandy a bit earlier, and he said that if you're up to it we can keep doing our therapy sessions…”

“Oh, that would be cool.”

“Yeah… if you're free we can do it in the afternoon?” Tentatively asked Macaque as he played with the tip of his tail. 

“Yeah.” Gulped the sage, tail thumping happily besides him. 

“Cool.” Muttered the warrior, he took their empty bowls and helped Pigsy clear the table. Sun Wukong let his eyes follow after him, as they often did when Macaque left a room, and tied his tail on his leg to stop its joyous thump. The last thing he wanted was to make a fool of himself before Macaque.

Once everything was cleared Sun Wukong followed MK outside. He trotted towards his lil bud, who was lazily sunbathing on the deck, and drowned her in coos before seriously taking place in front of his mentee. 

“Let's spar a little without your staff, then we can work a bit on your magic.” Proposed the sage, MK took place and they began to exchange blows. The sage had decided to teach his mentee some hands to hands combat at Macaque's recommendation, he hated to admit it but MK was pretty defenseless without his staff. The kid took the lessons fairly well, even if he did struggle a bit with hand movement. The sage only wanted to teach him basic martial arts for now, he would ask Macaque later (seeing as he was more knowledgeable in this matter) which style suited MK better. 

They spared a little, evading the other's fist, blocking it with the side of their hand, and exchanging blows after blows, sweating under the rising sun. MK was still struggling with balance (probably because he wasn't used to fighting without his staff) but he did quite well nonetheless, going as far as to avoid the sage's tail, a trick he always fell for on their first lessons. They stopped after a bit, the fight ending without real victor, and Sun Wukong decided to check the kid's magic. 

“So I heard Macaque helped you with your cloud and all. Any progress ?”Asked the sage.

“Well, it's still hard to keep it together, but I can summon it for a bit longer!”Excitedly explained his mentee. Sun Wukong was pleased with this answer, he watched, with fond eyes, as MK tried to summon his cloud and succeeded in keeping it for a few seconds. Sun Wukong was generally the kind of teacher that liked to let MK experience something with his senses, his body, whether it'd be magic or combat, before explaining it fully. Macaque was the complete opposite, he liked to explain the concept of it to MK, to let him grasp the theory, before letting him practice. And while MK learned fairly quickly with his way of teaching, he seemed to be more receptive to Macaque's way with more complex matter, like the cloud. And if the knowledge that Macaque was a better mentor in certain aspects could have wounded his ego a few months prior, now it only filled him with warmth. 

They complemented each other in their teaching. He preached patience and inner peace, pushing MK to feel with his body, to let his senses guide him through his battles. Macaque was teaching decisiveness and selfishness (something important in any battle if you wanted to get out of it alive), he explained every mystery to MK, let him understand the way everything worked, for him to have a better grasp on who he was and what he was capable of. Like always, they were like the two faces of the same coin, the sun and the moon, opposites but complementary. 

Sun Wukong decided to end the training after a few more hours, he could see the dragon girl shuffling in place while waiting for MK in the corner of his eyes. The sage watched with bewilderment as his mentee was tackled and dragged elsewhere by Ao Lie's descendant, the poor boy was still sweating from their spar, he could barely catch a break. Sun Wukong trotted towards his lil bud and petted her lovingly, she rolled around and showed her fluffy belly. He hesitated a little but submitted easily, like always. The second he dared to touch the floof he was mercilessly bitten. 

“Why do you let Macaque rub your belly and not me?”Whined the sage as he sat beside her. “I'm supposed to be your favorite!” Sock looked up at him with an unimpressed face, at least as unimpressed as a cat could muster, and turned away to resume her nap. Sun Wukong wailed as if he was pierced by a poison coated blade and spent the next hour lamenting his fate beside his lil bud. He lightened up when Sock liked his snout, probably to shut him up, and finally let her nap in peace. 

He didn't do much for the rest of the day, he decided to mimic his lil lady and found a good spot under the sun, letting the warmth glide over his fur and appease his mind. He only moved when midday came, and skipped eagerly towards the lounging room to get his meal. After another well-cooked dish, he followed Macaque to their room and they both waited for Sandy to appear. 

The tea-lover entered a few seconds after they both decided to sit on Sun Wukong's bed for this session, as usual, cups of tea were served and they waited for a couple of minutes before beginning anything, letting themselves take in their surroundings and their inner state before delving in their pain. 

“It's a bit of a peculiar situation, but I'm willing to do this if you both want to.” Softly began the tea-lover. 

“Thank you for that Sandy, you really put up with a lot for us.” Awkwardly chuckled the King, he saw Macaque nodding in the corner of his eyes. “I guess I wanted to talk about something…” Admitted the sage as he slightly turned away. There was one thing he was curious about, one thing that bothered him. Sandy told them that repressing feelings will only make them sick, until everything blows up in the worst of ways, and Sun Wukong didn't want to let his feelings fester inside of him until they poisoned his way of seeing Macaque. He will express himself, even if his words might trigger the other. 

“Go on, Mister King.” Encouraged Sandy. 

“Well, I noticed how you're getting closer to the group, you know.” Muttered the sage as he awkwardly scratched his neck, tail nervously flickering in his back. 

“Yeah, I'm trying, at least.” Replied Macaque as he rubbed one of his arms, a tell-tale sign of his anxiety. 

“And it's great that you do that. And don't take it the wrong way, but I guess it makes me a bit bitter.” Macaque didn't reply to that, and judging by the way his eyebrows shot in confusion, he didn't understand what the sage meant by this. 

“And why is that, Mister King?” This was the moment of truth, what he would say could be the opening lead to a very tense, but very necessary talk, or it could drive Macaque away from him. Nonetheless, he wanted to do it, if he worded it carefully he might be able to avoid triggering the other. 

“I just… guess it makes me bitter when I see you trying to be better for the group when you never tried with the pilgrims.” Macaque tensed, each inch of his skin stilling. The warrior breathed slowly, perhaps to calm himself, and took one sip of his cup. 

“They're not the same people. And it's not the same situation.” Sighed Macaque as he put his cup down. 

“Well, yeah. Fair. Guess it's just wishful thinking on my part.” Muttered the King as he played with the tip of his tail, trying to calm his frying nerves. 

“It would have never happened either way.” Sneered the macaque, he crossed his arms and dived deeper in the bed, perhaps to distance himself. 

“...I think you would have liked Ao Lie though. He was-”

“Wukong.” Cut Macaque, tone tight. “It doesn’t matter what their personalities were. I would never have gotten along with the likes of them.”

“What do you mean by the likes of them?” Repeated the sage with the hint of a growl in his voice. 

“You really want to do that right now? You know how it's gonna end.” Warned the macaque as he curled on himself. 

“Maybe, but it doesn't mean I can let you say whatever.” Scoffed Sun Wukong, anger flaring in his chest. 

“Isn't the point of this to let me say whatever, to let me express myself ? If you want to talk about it, then don't be mad because you don't share my feelings.” Macaque turned towards him with eyes of steel. The sage immediately felt his rage sizzle out and he looked down. Macaque was right, he needed to clear his heart beforeall, if not, this particular conversation would only hurt them both. 

“Sorry. I-I just…it makes me mad when you talk about them like they're evil.”

“Well it makes me mad when you talk about them like they're saints.” Mumbled the warrior, they stood in an awkward silence, letting their words ring in the room. “I saw you training MK, this morning, how did he do?” Asked Macaque, a very awkward way to change the subject, but Sun Wukong indulged it nonetheless. 

“Good. Your lessons with the cloud really helped him, thank you for that.” Replied the sage, he tried to lighten his tone, but there was a lingering bitterness in it he was unable to completely chase away. Macaque sighed at that, probably sensing the tightness in his voice, and messed with the end of his shirt. 

“Do you really want to talk about the pilgrims?” Tentatively asked the warrior.

“... I mean we do have to talk about it at one point.” 

“You're not gonna like what I will say.”

“I know. But I'll try to listen…”

“I'll try too then.” Macaque stopped fiddling with his hanfu and let himself fall on the bed, he stared at the ceiling, perhaps trying to choose the right words. “I don't like the pilgrims.” Sun Wukong winced, caught off guard by the spite in the other's tone. “More precisely, I don't like them because they hurts you, and because they're the reason you… ended me, ended us.”

The sage tightly gripped his sheets, claws slightly ripping the cloth. It was hard to hear this, but he promised himself to not let anger blind him, he wanted to do this. If he wanted Macaque to hear him, he had to hear Macaque. 

“They're not… I can see why you would think that but… they weren't bad with me… And what happened between us was my fault, not theirs.” Muttered the sage, breath slow and labored. 

“... What? What do you mean they weren't bad with you? Wukong, you literally have a scar because of them.” Sighed the warrior, he looked defeated, almost as if he lost the most important battle of his life. 

“Well, yeah. But I deserved it.” Replied the sage, he tried not to think about the fact Macaque knew about his scar. “I was… I needed to be taught, to atone.”

“Not like this. You were chaotic, but you never deserved this, you were never evil. Everyone made mistakes. Would you be fine if MK was treated like you were because he made a mistake?” Sun Wukong tensed at the thought, the mere idea of MK living what he endured was revolting, his fur bristled and he flashed a hint of a fang. 

“MK don't deserve this.” 

“Then why do you think you do?” Asked the warrior as he put a hand over his face to hide his expression. 

“...I'm not like MK. I'm… I was bad.”

“I never once thought you were bad and I was with you for all of your foolish years. Why do you believe what they told you more than me when I was the one you spent your youth with?” Sun Wukong flinched, letting the words sink in his heart. It was at the same time soothing and wounding to hear this, to hear that he didn't deserve pain. 

“Macaque I ruined our lives. How can you say I wasn't bad?

“You didn't ruin it. You're not… the only one to blame.” Macaque turned towards him and sighed when he caught sight of his flickering tail, the appendage was seized by nervous twitches. “Look, I know you like the pilgrims. But even so, don't just brush away what you endured as if it didn't hurt you. It makes me mad to see you… like this. You're allowed to be hurts, or mad.” Macaque rose from the bed and brushed away the glistening tears shining in the edge of his eyes. “Sometimes, it's not the people you hate that hurts you.”

The warrior left the bed and drank the last drops of his tea. 

“I don't think we can keep talking about this.” Mumbled the macaque. 

“Why?” Asked the King, he shivered at the way Macaque looked at him. 

“Because you don't believe a word of what I'm saying and you're just trying to reign in your anger.” Sun Wukong flinched, ashamed of being caught that easily. “And I… I don't think I'm ready to hear you either. To hear that they were good, in some aspects. Not today.” Macaque nodded at Sandy and walked away with a shy : “I'm not mad. Just tired.” Disappointed crossed the sage's mind, and it hurts almost more than the last time they fought during a therapy session. 

“Well, that didn't go well. I think I almost like it better when we scream at each other. It's better than him being disappointed in me.” Sadly chuckled the sage. 

“I don't think he's disappointed in you, but more of the fact you both can't agree.” Softly replied Sandy. “But I must say, Mister King, nobody deserves pain.”

“Are you siding with Macaque? I'm telling you they weren't bad people.” Muttered the sage. 

“They don't need to be bad people to hurt you. Mister Maquawke hurts you, but he's not bad, or do you think he is?”

“It's… Macaque is a complicated person.” Sighed the sage. Sandy, ever the sweetheart, chose to not insist when he picked out how uncomfortable Sun Wukong was with this particular subject. “Looks like we're approaching our destination.” Muttered the King as he gazed at the porthole, and the shadows of mountains he could see far in the landscape. 

“I better go steer this ship then. Are you gonna stay here, Mister King?” 

Sun Wukong looked at the door for a few seconds, he was almost tempted to go out and search for Macaque, but he decided not to and curled in his bed. 

“Yeah, I'm gonna take a nap.”

Sandy softly nodded at him and left quietly, not after leaving another cup of the sage's favorite tea behind. The King laid still on his sheets, thinking about Macaque's words. He couldn't understand him. He couldn't fathom that another could even think he didn't deserve what he endured.

Because if he didn't deserve it, then why was he hurt?

If he wasn't bad, then why did his master punish him? 

Did they all simply hate him to the point they wanted to see him squirm in his own blood? 

Did Guanyin, Tripitaka and the Buddha himself loathe him so much they wanted to see him crumble? 

Everyone made mistakes, they say, but did that apply to beings such as Guanyin and the Buddha? Did they make mistakes? It was easier to think he deserved it, easier to think he was tortured because he needed to atone himself and not because the whole wide world hated him and wanted him to taste his own blood. 

His thoughts were broken by very familiar moews, Sock barged in in the room and jumped on him, rubbing her fluffy head in his arms. 

“I swear, you have a sad monkey detector somewhere.” Chuckled the sage as he cuddled his lil bud. “Every time I'm upset, you always know somehow.” 

He hid in his lil lady fur, soothed by her purrs. Maybe he shouldn't think about that, he was too tired for this sort of musing. 

A nap sounded good for now. 

Ch1 / Previous / Next

[muldermuse]

The Name Game: Fox Mulder X Reader

A lil fic about Fox and Reader struggling to name their new kitten. I imagine it’s a black cat if anyone was curious

(pls send suggestions for fics or Fox Mulder hcs hereeeeee)

“You cannot look in this adorable baby’s eyes and tell me that they don’t scream the name Luna”. Fox is sat cross legged on the carpet playing with your new black kitten who is currently unnamed.

You and Fox have lived together for a little over 4 months at this point, you’d both fallen into a natural routine which benefitted the two of you massively. You would take it in turns to cook, whoever was home first got to choose the movie you’d watch and you both cleaned as you went. Your friends and family had told you that moving in together was a pivotal point for any couple, they had emphasised it to the point that the night before the move you lay in bed worrying that this could ruin your relationship. Obviously, as soon as you saw Mulder the next morning in his moving attire, all worries flew out of your head and had never bothered you since. Living with him was easy and you never seemed to have disagreements.

Until you brought the kitten home.

You’d spent a small fortune buying the fanciest food and water bowls, cat beds and toys that you could find. You’d both done your research about which food would be better for a small kitten and the only food store that stocked it was around 30 minutes away from your home. Each room of your home was fully kitten proofed, you had comfy blankets in each room so they could decide where to sleep, the cat bed was placed in the living room along with the ginormous cat tree which engulfed the corner of the room. You’d both spent that long prepping for the kitten to arrive that it wasn’t until about 2 hours after you had her; you realised you hadn’t decided on a name.

“I just don’t see Luna”. You replied, enticing the kitten over to you with a small treat.

“You don’t see it because you don’t want to see it”. Fox was holding his hand near your kitten, you were terrified of startling her and you both were conscious of getting her used to the smell of both of you so she’d become more comfortable. His tone was hushed but the sass of the words was strong.

“I think it should be something more fun! Like, I don’t know, pyjamas or something”. Your nameless kitten had wandered off to explore before you could even finish your sentence.

“This kitten is going to be an adult cat one day. She can’t be an adult called Pyjamas,” Fox huffed as he stood up to follow the kitten “I just don’t think you’re taking this seriously”.

You scoffed as you stood up to walk after him, “There’s too many cats called Luna! It’s an epidemic! Three people in the office this morning said they had cats called Luna”

“It’s a popular name! How many cats do you know called Pyjamas? Exactly, zero. It’s a dumb name for an elegant cat”

“Fox, we just watched her pee on the kitchen floor, I don’t think she’s going to be that elegant”

***

It wasn’t a real argument- not really. You’d made dinner for each other which a few kisses thrown in as you idly chatted about your day. Both of you trying hard to move the conversation on from the kitten. You’d remark on small things she did that was funny or squeal when she did something cute but neither of you mentioned the name.

You both sat on the sofa after dinner with a blanket over you both as an episode of Golden Girls played on in the background. Your kitten had been crying to be near you both so you gingerly picked her up and placed her on your lap. She curled up and fell asleep on you as you pet her, seeing Fox smile out of the corner of your eye.

“What about Simba?” Fox started.

“Unoriginal, what about Angel?”

“Seems a bit immature, as I said, she’s going to be a mature lady one day. What about Shadow?”

“Too many letters”

“It’s two syallbles”

You’d both reached a stale mate. You felt like whatever you both suggested, the other would find an issue with it. You carried on petting your nameless child and watching Golden Girls.

“It’s just,” you felt Fox place his hand on yours as he began to speak. “It’s such a big decision! She’s ours and I want her to have the perfect name. Something that we both love and that when we look at her; we can 100% see it.” He continued rubbing your hand, “She i-“

Before he could finish what he was saying, your kitten shot up and ran over to the window to look at a sound neither of you seemed to have heard. Her quick movements had scared you, you felt your heart rate increase from the fright and Fox brought your hand to his chest to show you that his heart was pounding as well. You both burst out laughing at how this tiny little cat had scared you both.

“How about Boo? You know…like a fright?”

Fox brought his hands to your face and pressed a kiss against your lips. “I love it”.

[pbs-theundeadmaggot]

first love // alone (out of my head)

🎶 alone (out of my head) by thousand below

(AU) Steve Harrington x fem!reader

[a/n] ngl I dont love this filler part but hopefully it isn't too bad, we're officially half way through now. Hopefully Steve ups his game if he wants us or will the new guy get lucky at winning your heart?

[warnings?] insecurities, drinking, mentions of cheating, self-doubt.

first love masterlist here!

Looking in the mirror and smoothing down the sides of your dress you couldn’t help feeling somewhat stupid. The dress looked amazing on you, the soft fabric hugging your body in the most flattering way. Even Robin complimented your look which coming from her were a rare occurrence, usually reserved for her girlfriend and their cat.

you just wished you felt as good as you looked.

 Instead the reflection staring back at you felt like a stranger, the image taunting you with a life you could’ve had and perhaps in another life you did have. Maybe you’d be going out on a romantic date or celebrating a wedding anniversary, anything seemed better than what was on the horizon, with your luck you’d be attending wedding after wedding within the next year, all a reminder of how single and unwanted you are.

.·。.·゜✭·.·✫·゜·。.

You’d yet to go out into the city at night, not realising how magical it looked with the lights shimmering and bouncing off the still water. It felt like stepping into another dimension, people scattered around laughing and chattering away with not a care in the world, the smell of cigarettes and salt never seemed so enticing. 

As expected Rebecca had got you all into a ridiculously expensive restaurant downtown, everyone that entered looking like they walked straight out of a vogue magazine, the diamonds on their jewellery most likely costing more than all four of you put together, excluding Rebecca for obvious reasons. 

Glancing over at Steve you could tell he was nervous, continually tugging on the collar of his dress shirt, the light layer of hairs that peppered across his chest peaking through and the sweat glistening on his neck. 

Just the sight of him had you restless in your seat.

Clinging to his free arm stood Rebecca, walking over with a sickly sweet smile and taking a seat with Steve trailing behind her. You’d grown accustomed to her overly dramatic and draining conversation, learning to zone out and enjoy the view (the free food certainly didn’t hurt either.) 

In the distance you could make out the shadow of the Eiffel Tower, in all its glory lit up like a Christmas tree. The sunset in the horizon framing it’s detail and outlining the rows of buildings that stood nearby. Originally your plan had been to confess to Steve up there, the hope blooming in your chest as you thought back to all the little things that hinted Steve shared your feelings. As delusional as it sounds you truly thought you’d get your happy ending, after everything that’s happened how could you not?

Perhaps you would get your happy ending

Just not with Steve.

.·。.·゜✭·.·✫·゜·。.

The meal was surpassingly nice, either you had one too many drinks or Rebecca had magically become mute, you weren’t complaining. In fact, some guy the bar had been kind enough to send over drinks, sending you a shy smile before resuming his conversation with the bartender.

Unsure of how much time had passed before stumbling out of the restaurant with the others and hailing a taxi, the chill of the late night air sending shivers down your spine. Steve had somehow noticed this quickly pulling his jacket off and attempting to hand it over before Rebecca stopped him. Completely oblivious to the lovers quarrel that began to take place, the same guy who’d sent you drinks walked over, doing the exact same as Steve had tried to do, this time successful.

“You really don’t need to do that.” Stunned at his kind gesture as he assured you that he couldn’t ‘watch a pretty girl go cold’. The heat from the alcohol rising to your cheeks, swaying slightly as you laughed, believing he was but a figment of your imagination. 

“I’m sorry if this is too forward but do you think I could get your number?” Unlike Steve’s usually charm when asking a girl out, the stranger stumbled over his words, nervously running a hand through his hair, awaiting your answer. 

Part of you felt conflicted, it had been so long since you’d dated you weren’t even sure if you knew how to. The last date you got asked on having been years ago when you were still obliviously hung up on Steve you’d profusely apologised, feeling that if you went on this date it would be the same as cheating, and if there was one thing you hated it was cheaters. 

Obviously you weren’t actually in a relationship with Steve at the time (or ever) you still couldn’t bring yourself to look elsewhere, but now things had changed. Still single and under no obligations to remain faithful to someone who acted like a ghost half the time, you accepted. Excited at the prospect of someone realising the potential you had, even if it was a one night stand or a short fling you were happy, happy that someone actually wanted you, that someone actually saw you. 

⋆﹥━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━﹤⋆

[a/n] reblogs and comments are greatly appreciated and encouraged!

Other works available here!

Taglist: @freezaz123

[the-sycophant]

14 Associations - Marlowe Morning

Animal: The Domestic Cat. Cunning. Fickle. Enjoys sitting on your lap if it should please her. She would be the too pampered neighborhood feline drifting from home to home in search of sweet attention and treats, no one really knowing where she comes from. A companion to wayfarers and those in the homestead alike — either to sniff out rats and snakes, or just to be a pretty little pet —cats are also believed to ward off evil spirits and bring good luck. Much like Marlowe, despite her difficulty. She'll bite the hand that feeds and lick it after

Color: Red. Dalamud red, blood red. The red of a sharp slap, a blush from a cheeky kiss. The sort of red that is vibrant and eye-catching, the sort of red that accents something just enough or clashes with it supremely. The colour of ribbons and ropes, teeth into skin, and roses

Song: Around Us - Jónsi

Number: 2. Always her and one other. No more, preferably no less

Day or Night: The night offers protection and comfort, but the sun makes her heart ache with something fierce. Her aether is just as bright, as warm. She chases the sun and is envious of those who live beneath it

Plant: Eglantine. Her. A single bloom from a bouquet of royal children. "I wound to heal". The shape her magic takes form of as opposed to lilies

Smell: Matching her mood. Could be something foul, smoky. Old iron clinging to dirt under her nails. Or maybe sweet, enticing. Subtle. Sugared pastries on her lips and wildflowers in her hair

Gemstone: Not a gem, just a regular old stone. A gift from a companion, a treasured token just the same

Season: Spring 

Place: Near someone always, and preferably in some state of relaxation. Stretched out over furs and pillows set by a fireplace, curled up on a chaise or lap, or even under the covers or starlight with the soft smacking of lips and skin

Food: Something made or given with her in mind

Astrological Sign: Menphina, the Lover, as well as her lover Oschon...and her lover's lover, Llymlaen

Element: Water. Healing, life giving. Fun to splash around in or drag you down into. All in good fun...

Drink: You, of course. If you want. Maybe even if you don't

—————————— Tagged by | @the-wanted-man and @luck-and-larceny Tagging | @ahollowgrave, @spiral-cut, @arbiterofthedead, @allyennah, @alun-ura, @umbral-flare-ffxiv, @voidtekarc & whoever else wants to do it!

[ladysif8]

🍩 Sweet Heat 🍩

•Pairing: Firefighter Bucky Barnes/OFC

•Rating: General Audience

•Tags: Firefighter AU, Firemen Bucky, Curvy/Tall/Tattooed OFC, Firefighter Avengers, Flirting, Meet-Cute, Cat Rescue, Humor, Everyone Picks On Bucky

•Summary:

Fireman Bucky Barnes discovers the delicious doughnuts of Chubby Dough while at the local Farmers Market, and he is instantly smitten. When he meets Aria, the quirky doughnut goddess herself, sparks fly between them. However, fate intervenes when Bucky is called away on duty, missing the chance to get her number. Weeks later, fate as their paths cross again when Bucky receives a call about a cat stuck in a tree, which turns out to be Aria's.

The sky is a stretched canvas of endless blue, wisps of white clouds scattered like strokes of a painter’s brush sailing on a gentle breeze, casting fleeting shadows on the ground below. The air is filled with a warmth that wraps around everything, holding the promise of long, lazy days of adventures. It was a warm July Saturday in Pikesville, Indiana. Which only meant one thing… Farmer’s Markets.

The bustling energy made the air feel alive as the aroma of freshly picked fruits, fragrant herbs, and other seasonal produce mingled together—stalls overflowed with various colorful fruits and vegetables, showcasing the best summer harvest. Juicy, sweet watermelons, succulent peaches, and plump berries beckoned with their sweet smells and vibrant colors. Heirloom tomatoes, vibrant yellow, red, and green peppers, sweet candy onions, just-picked green beans, zucchini, and crisp cucumbers this morning. The local farmers proudly offered the fruits of their labor in their wide-brimmed hats and sun-kissed smiles. Baskets of sunflowers and bouquets of herbs add a rustic charm to the scene, and tables are filled with jars of freshly made jams and jellies. The air was filled with the enticing aroma of freshly baked bread, flaky pastries, and aromatic coffee contributions from the local artisans and bakers—stalls filled with handcrafted jewelry and pottery, offering unique treasures to discover. With booths from local organizations, the library is offering a free book per child, along with the local Police, Fire Department, and other various organizations. Conversation buzzed in the air as customers engaged with farmers and vendors alike.

Children scampered between aisles, clutching dripping ice cream cones, while families gathered around shaded picnic tables, enjoying farm-to-table meals prepared right there with nothing but the freshest ingredients by local food trucks. There was a wide variety of cuisine, such as a taco truck that specialized in authentic Mexican food, serving up mouth-watering tacos from traditional carne asada to vegetarian options—a burger truck offered everything from the classic cheeseburger to gourmet with a range of toppings. A BBQ truck known for its smokey and tender means, slow-cooked ribs, pulled pork sandwiches, brisket, and more. A pizza truck offers wood-fired oven pizzas on wheels, passing out freshly made slices or whole pies with a wide range of toppings. An Asian fusion truck is blending flavors and techniques from various Asian cuisines, serving up Korean tacos, Vietnamese banh mi sandwiches, and Thai-inspired noodle bowls. A seafood truck offers a taste of the ocean in the form of fish tacos, lobster rolls, shrimp po’boys, and other seafood delicacies. Several dessert trucks specializing in tasty ice creams, decadent pastries, cupcakes, cookies, and doughnuts of every flavor were waiting to offer up sweet treats to round off the savory meals consumed. Local musicians strummed guitars and played lively tunes, infusing the market with a cheerful melody. Under the warm sun, the farmer’s market buzzed as a hub of the community, where neighbors greeted each other with smiles and shared stories. It was a place where the spirit of summer thrived—a place to savor the flavors of summer.

"Thank you for your support," Sam said with a smile as a group of giggling teenagers hurried away with copies of the Pikesville Fire Department yearly calendar.

The local Fire Department had chosen the Pikesville Animal Welfare as the non-profit organization to support through their calendar fundraisers this year.

"That's another one for me," Sam declared, walking over and placing a crumpled twenty-dollar bill into the cash box. "How many have you sold, Barnes?" he asked Bucky.

Bucky rolled his eyes but checked the unofficial tally sheet. "Uh, thirty-two," he replied.

"Thirty-four," Sam countered, a smug smirk on his face.

"Come on, guys," Steve interjected, stepping between them.

"He's just jealous," Sam said, slipping his thumbs between his navy PFD t-shirt and the red suspenders from his turnout pants.

Bucky scoffed, "As if," he retorted, crossing his muscular arms over his chest. "I think the heat is getting to your brain; you do remember the signs of heat stroke, right, Wilson?"

"Guys," Steve warned, trying to diffuse the tension.

Just then, Natasha reappeared like a redheaded angel, holding a bright pink pastry box. She gracefully made her way around the two tables covered in red tablecloths adorned with a Pikesville Fire Department banner. The tables were stacked with calendars, each featuring a member of the PFD for every month alongside an adorable shelter animal. In addition to the calendars, a poster board was prominently displayed, showcasing pictures of the shelter animals and their names and information. The board served as a visual representation, capturing the attention and hearts of passersby. Each photograph conveyed the unique personality and charm of the animals, inviting potential adopters to learn more about them. The information provided on the board offered insights into their age, breed, and endearing traits, further encouraging visitors to consider opening their homes and hearts to these furry companions.

"Alright, boys, I have doughnuts," Tasha sang happily, her voice brimming with delight. With a cheerful demeanor, she carefully placed the box of doughnuts on the table, elegantly flipping back the lid, and stepped away, creating an alluring display of sweet treats for everyone to enjoy. "Thor, Scott, Clint, come on over. I've got doughnuts!" Tasha called out to the other members of their squad, who were gathered by the fire engine.

"Oooh, yes!" Scott exclaimed, jogging over and energetically shaking his shoulders as he rubbed his hands together in anticipation.

Clint followed suit while Thor was preoccupied with allowing a young boy to try on his helmet, drawing the attention of the boy's mother, who couldn't help but check out the tall blonde firefighter.

The aroma of freshly baked doughnuts wafted through the air. The sight of the various flavors and toppings tantalized their taste buds, drawing the guys closer to the table to choose their favorite doughnuts.

Bucky swiftly snatched a doughnut with a thick brown glaze, chopped pecans, and a drizzle of chocolate. He settled back in his chair, taking a large bite.

"Holy shit," he mumbled around his mouthful, the doughnut tasting like a decadent caramel turtle.

Sounds of approval and satisfied hums echoed throughout their tent.

“Hey Tash, where’d you get these?” Scott asked, stuffing half a doughnut into his mouth.

Steve hummed, “These are the best doughnuts I’ve ever had,” he commented, taking a much smaller bite than the man next to him.

“Chubby Dough Doughnuts,” Tasha answered, ripping a piece of the sticky fried dough. “These two girls run the truck; Yelena kept going on and on about them,” she adds before plopping the piece in her mouth.

The tent was silent as everyone chowed down, but that didn’t last long. Barton just had to open his trap.

"So, who's winning so far?" Clint asked, jelly smudges adorning his mouth.

Steve groaned, "God damn it, Clint."

"I'm glad you asked, Barton," Sam said with a smile, taking another bite of his doughnut. "It's me," he proclaimed, his voice slightly muffled by the fullness of his mouth.

"Oh man, that's gonna suck cleaning all the engines alone, Buck," Scott remarked, licking some whipped filling off the side of his hand.

Bucky grunted, unamused. "There's still plenty of time for me to wipe the floor with Sam," he retorted.

Tasha produced a napkin for Clint, who sheepishly accepted it. "No manners, the lot of you," she shook her head, playfully scolding them.

"Ha!" Sam laughed sarcastically, his tone laced with playful annoyance.

"Alright, guys, come on, do we have to do this every year?" Steve asked, looking between Bucky and Sam.

"Yes," they both answered in unison, a mischievous glint in their eyes.

Steve sighed, his exasperation evident as he dragged a hand down his face.

Fortunately, another wave of people approached the booth. Several women and a few men purchased calendars, dropping a few dollars into the jar in front of the poster board. Some of the customers requested the squad to sign their pictures, a request that the firefighters gladly obliged. With smiles on their faces, they interacted with members of the community.

A beautiful woman with raven hair approached the table, her gaze fixed on the post board displaying various animals. She reached out and picked up a calendar, flipping through its pages.

“Those animals are all just a few tents down if you’re interested in adopting any of them,” Bucky said, sauntering over to the woman with a flirtatious smirk.

She raised an eyebrow, a hint of mischief in her eyes. “Are any of the firefighters available?” Her gaze traveled up and down Bucky’s form, and she teasingly licked her lips.

"They might be. Which month caught your eye?" he asked.

The woman pondered, twisting her lips in thought. "Well, Mister July has that All-American apple pie vibe," she remarked, stealing a glance at Steve. He was engaged in conversation with an older woman, her curly white hair framing her face. It was evident that she had taken a liking to him, her hand gently resting on his forearm and a blush coloring his cheeks.

"Is that so?" Bucky asked, his voice still carrying a flirty and playful tone.

The woman stepped closer, a mischievous glint in her eyes. "But you know, Mister October has this tall, dark, and dangerous feel to him. He's the kind of guy I'd love to bring home to meet my parents, just to see their disapproval," she admitted, biting her bottom lip playfully.

Bucky winced, realizing his reaction had been more noticeable than intended. He quickly cleared his throat. "Well, we genuinely appreciate your contributions. All proceeds will go to the Animal Shelter to provide them with new equipment, enabling them to help the animals better," he explained.

The woman's eyes widened, then narrowed as she abruptly pulled a twenty-dollar bill from her wallet and slapped it onto Bucky's chest before walking away.

A low whistle caught Bucky's attention, and he turned to see Sam approaching him.

"You alright, Buck?" Sam asked, concern evident in his gaze.

Bucky frowned, turning on his heels and starting to walk around the table. "Yeah, I'm fine," he replied, his tone slightly curt.

"You don't look it, man," Sam pointed out, walking alongside Bucky.

Bucky let out a sigh. "It's always the same with every woman," he muttered, crossing his arms. His navy PFD t-shirt stretched across his chest, highlighting his muscular physique. "They look at me and automatically assume... well, they think I'm some sort of—"

"Fuckboy?" Sam interjected, raising an eyebrow.

Bucky's frown deepened. "Sure, let's go with that," he said, rolling his eyes in mild exasperation.

"Listen, man," Sam sighed, his voice filled with genuine concern. "You're a good guy, Barnes. You've got a good heart, you're smart and funny, and hell, you're easy on the eyes," he chuckled softly. "You'll find the one, somebody who sees beyond the surface." Sam reached out, giving Bucky's shoulder a reassuring squeeze.

"Thanks, Sam," Bucky replied, mustering a grateful but slightly weary smile.

Sam nodded. "No problem, man. You good?" he asked, looking for confirmation.

"Yeah, I'm good," Bucky confirmed, appreciating the support.

Sam began to walk away.

"Hey, Wilson, let's try not to go through this again, alright?" Bucky called out, slumping down into a chair. "Kinda made me feel dirty."

"Oh, fuck you, man," Sam chuckled teasingly before leaving the tent. "I'm still gonna kick your ass," Sam tossed over his shoulder with a playful grin.

Bucky chuckled and shouted, "Only in your dreams, Wilson!"

Eventually, the competition between Sam and Bucky faded into the background, but it resurfaced when Thor finally made his way over to the group.

"How goes the competition, Barnes?" Thor inquired, grabbing a doughnut from the box. "Are you kicking Wilson's ass?"

Thor's words caused Steve to almost whine in exasperation, feeling like he wanted to repeatedly bash his head against a hard surface.

"Ha! I'm at... forty-eight," Sam declared confidently.

Bucky grinned. "Fifty-two," he countered, a playful spark in his eyes.

"Ain't no way," Sam crossed his arms, showcasing his bulging biceps.

Scott leaned forward, inspecting the tally sheet. "Yeah, Barnes is right," he confirmed, his tone revealing the truth of Bucky's higher count.

The friendly rivalry between Sam and Bucky was reignited.

"Alright, knock it off, guys," Tasha interjected, her voice carrying a note of authority from her perch on the table. "You're both hot, we get it, but you're going to give our Captain an aneurysm," she playfully scolded, gesturing toward Steve.

The squad chuckled, understanding that the good-natured teasing had its limits. With a collective nod, the firefighters refocused their attention on interacting with the customers, signing calendars, and polishing off the last of the doughnuts Natasha had brought.

Taking a much-needed break from running their booth, Bucky felt a sense of relief mingled with excitement at the prospect of indulging in some delicious treats and moseying about the other stalls and booths with Steve. While he enjoyed managing their booth, he knew that a short break would do him some good. The delightful aromas from the food trucks wafted through the air, luring them closer with each step.

Steve turned to Bucky, inquiring about his lunch preference, "What are you in the mood for?"

With a smile, the brunette replied, "That BBQ smells amazing."

Steve enthusiastically agreed, "Sounds good to me, as long as we make a stop at that doughnut truck before we head back Thor said they have blueberry streusel doughnuts."

Bucky chuckled, appreciating their love for food, “I knew you were my best friend for a reason.”

“I hope that’s not the only reason,” Steve chuckled, elbowing Bucky playfully.

Fifteen short minutes later, Bucky and Steve were happily munching on a little dish of crispy golden brown tater tots topped with sweet, smokey, and tangy pulled pork drenched in BBQ sauce, a drizzle of nacho cheese, thin slices of red onion, chopped green onions, and jalapeno slices from the BBQ food truck. As they strolled through the bustling stalls, they enjoyed their lunch and chatted with old high school friends and other folks from the community. They leisurely made their way around the market, pausing at tables filled with tempting goods.

"Oh man," Steve sighed contentedly as he tossed his little paper dish into the trash. "That was delicious," he said, stretching his arms above his head.

Bucky nodded in agreement, quickly finishing his last bite before following Steve's lead and disposing of his paper dish in the trash.

"Man, I'm so full," Bucky groaned, patting his belly as he walked alongside Steve, the band playing a cover of some Charlie Daniels song.

"Too stuffed for doughnuts?" Steve quipped, raising an eyebrow.

Bucky gave him an exaggerated hurt expression, shaking his head, “And here I thought we were friends—"

“—Best friends," Steve corrected with a grin.

" Right, right, best friends,” Bucky amended, “I'm utterly appalled you'd ever think I'm a quitter," he retorted, pretending to be outraged.

Steve couldn’t help but laugh at his friend’s expression as they joined the line at Cubby Dough Doughnuts.

"Oh, my bad, I forgot Mama Barnes didn't raise a quitter,” Steve teased, playfully nudging Bucky’s arm with his elbow.

“Damn straight; now, let’s if the beautiful doughnut goddesses can entice me into taking just on—”

Bucky’s words faded away as he got entranced by the captivating woman with a dark, messy bun, a neon green sticking out the side, her smokey eye makeup, and mesmerizing hazel blue eyes—a mix of brown, green, and blue that looked like a cosmic swirl framed in with dark thick-rimmed glasses, cute little button nose, her lip was a sight to behold with the most alluring shade of pink he had ever seen, a natural cupid’s bow—a perfectly formed curve that gave her smile this irresistible charm. She had on a black t-shirt, hot pink frosting, and bright pink letters with sprinkles, proudly stating Donut Squad, and when she turned around, he noticed the back of her shirt was the name Chubb Dough. Her smile was dazzling; he watched as she tucked a whisp of hair behind her ear, the many colorful bracelets around her wrist catching the light. Bucky was intrigued.

“Buck?” Steve said, trying to contain his laughter as he lightly chuckled, attempting to get his friend’s attention.

Still entranced by the doughnut goddess, Bucky turned to Steve with a dreamy look in his eyes. “I think I might be in doughnut heaven,” Bucky mumbled to Steve.

"Holy smokes, dude," Darcy groaned, leaning her head against the compact refrigerator. "They just keep coming and coming," she mumbled, opening the door to grab a water bottle.

Aria chuckled, "Isn’t that the point?" she asked, taking another tray of doughnuts from the warmer.

"I mean, I guess; I don't know why I let you talk me into this hair-brain scheme of yours," Darcy said, taking a long drink from the bottle.

"Ha! Because really, I had to twist your arm," Aria replied dryly, carrying the tray to the work table. "You know you secretly love this doughnut-making adventure!" she teased, rolling her eyes playfully.

Darcy couldn't resist teasing her friend further. She reached over and pinched Aria's cheek, playfully saying in a baby voice, "It's so hard to say no to this cute little face," while patting Aria's cheek.

Aria playfully batted Darcy's hand away, giving her a mock glare. "Yeah, yeah, very funny," she said, trying to suppress a smile.

The dinging of a bell echoed throughout the small food truck.

"Ah, they summon me," Darcy sighed, finishing off her bottle of water. "The public awaits," she announced with a playful flourish, crushing the bottle and making her way back to the front window, ready to serve the hungry customers.

Aria playfully rolled her eyes at Darcy's dramatic announcement. She then grabbed an icing bag filled with delicious cheesecake icing, adjusting her hold on the small bag. Starting at one end of the tray, she skillfully gave each golden brown, perfectly cooked doughnut a delightful drizzle of creamy and tangy icing, followed by their rich caramel sauce and decadent chocolate ganache to the doughnuts, making sure each one was beautifully coated. She artfully sprinkled chopped pecans across the top as a finishing touch, completing the mouthwatering treat—the enticing aroma of freshly made doughnuts filled the air, enticing the eagerly waiting customers.

Cubby Dough had humble beginnings as a tiny pop-up camper that Aria and Darcy purchased from a questionable gentleman on Craigslist. They embarked on the ambitious project of gutting and remodeling the entire camper themselves, and it was no easy task. They spent countless late nights watching YouTube videos, trying to figure out how to connect the plumbing and make everything work. Thankfully, Aria's Dad came to the rescue, offering his years of experience and a helping hand with his tools. With their determination and his guidance, within six months, Chubby Dough was finally transformed into a mobile doughnut haven. That was four years ago, and since then, the little food truck has been delighting customers with its delectable treats all over the southern part of the state.

Today the food truck is built on a 22ft trailer with black sheet metal sides and roof, giving it a modern and sleek appearance. The silver servicing window is not only functional but also adds a contrasting element to the black and wooden features; it can be easily closed and locked for security when the food truck is not in operation; outside the window is a practical butcher block counter bar on the outside, where customers are greeted. The wooden trim around the windows adds a touch of warmth and rustic charm to the overall look. Inside is a compacted modern kitchen, a double fryer, a large proofer, a warmer, and all the necessities one needs to operate a food truck; a large butcher block workspace and prep tables provide ample space for food preparation and serving. The crowning glory is the light-up sign that proudly displays the truck's name, "Chubby Dough," drawing attention and helping customers easily recognize and locate the food truck.

As the morning rush settled down, Aria and Darcy decided to switch spots; Darcy had reached her limit dealing with customers at the front.

"I'm just not built to deal with people," Darcy grumbled, washing her hands in the sink.

Aria couldn't help but laugh. "You're in the wrong business, my dude," she teased, finding humor in her friend's confession.

Darcy chuckled at Aria's playful response and played along, giving Aria an exaggeratedly sad expression. "Oh, I know, right?” she said dramatically. “It's a never-ending doughnut-filled nightmare," she joked, pretending to be overwhelmed.

Aria gave her a mock sympathetic look. "Oh, poor Darcy," she said, trying to hold back a laugh. "It must be so tough," she added before bursting into laughter.

As the pace picked up once more, doughnuts were flying out of the window as fast as Aria and Darcy could make them. They were in sync, their teamwork seamless as they worked together to keep up with the demand. It was a flurry of dough, icing, and toppings, all coming together in perfect harmony. The little food truck was once again buzzing with excitement, and the smiles on their customers' faces made all the hard work worthwhile.

Aria quickly excused herself, saying, "Give me just a second," as she grabbed a fresh notepad and reached for the green pen that was stuck in her messy bun. She spoke as she turned back around; she looked up to take the next-in-line orders. “Chub…Chubby Do—” she said, stumbling over her words.

One of the men was tall, sporting short blonde hair and baby blue eyes with a subtle hint of green around the iris. He had a solid and muscular build, dressed in a navy PFD shirt that emphasized his strength.

The other man was just an inch shorter than the blonde, with curly brown hair on top and tapered sides. His mesmerizing blue eyes resembled a stormy summer evening, bringing back memories of the scent of rain-soaked earth. His handsome face was adorned with a cleft chin and a set of the prettiest pink lips. Like his companion, he also wore a navy PFD shirt that barely contained his well-defined and impressive muscles.

Aria was taken aback, almost losing her balance in the process. She managed to offer a slightly awkward smile. "Welcome to Chubby Dough... Uh, what can I get you, gentlemen?" She quickly corrected herself as she almost knotted her pen in her hair.

The tall blonde man smiled warmly, his baby blue eyes twinkling with amusement. "You were close," he said with a gentle chuckle. "I'll have two of your blueberry streusel doughnuts, please."

The man with the captivating stormy blue eyes flashed a playful grin, making Aria’s heart flutter. As he glanced at the menu, he asked in a smooth and inviting voice, “What’s your favorite?”

Aria’s nerves got the best of her, and she pointed to herself, feeling like more of an awkward mess than she already was. “M-mine?” she stammered, blushing under his gaze. The man nodded, his smile still warm and encouraging. “Oh, uh, Jesus,” she muttered, nervously licking her lips as she pushed up her glasses.

He raised a curious eyebrow, intrigued by her reaction, then looked at the menu again. “I’ll take one of those,” he said, pointing to her favorite doughnut, “and a maple bacon, please.”

Aria nodded, trying her best not to make a fool out of herself further. "Sure thing! Two blueberry streusel, one Jesus, and one maple bacon coming right up," she replied, writing down their order on the notepad, trying to hide her flustered state while secretly thrilled that he had chosen her recommendation.

As she turned to start preparing their doughnuts, Darcy peeked over her shoulder, curious about the sudden change in her friend's demeanor. Aria couldn't help but blush slightly, secretly hoping she looked presentable despite the messy bun and lime green pin.

"Hey, who are these fine-looking specimens?" Darcy whispered teasingly, earning a playful nudge from Aria.

"Just focus on your doughnut-making, will you?" Aria whispered back, glancing over her shoulder at the two men chatting outside the truck.

“You’re no fun,” Darcy grumbled, heading back toward the fryer.

Darcy's pouty face made Aria chuckle as she continued working on the doughnuts. Every morning hours before an event, Aria and Darcy would head out early, starting on their batter for the day; they would start frying until the first customer arrived. By then, the warmers were filled with tray after tray of freshly fried doughnuts, each doughnut that left through Chubby Dough's window was freshly made to order, it was a bit time-consuming, but it was worth the short wait.

Aria started with two plain golden-brown doughnuts, dipping each in a thin white glaze. She added their homemade blueberry compote and topped them with a delightful streusel. Moving on, she took two more doughnuts and dipped one in a thick maple glaze, generously adding chunks of maple bacon. The other doughnut was lightly coated in a thin glaze before being tossed in cinnamon sugar, its top dipped into a vanilla frosting and topped with a drizzle of thick gooey caramel.

As Darcy assembled a box for the four heavenly treats, she playfully pointed out, "You know that guy keeps looking in here at you."

Curious, Aria glanced over her shoulder to see the brunette with stormy blue eyes giving her a wide, flirtatious smile. A hint of a blush crept up her cheeks, but she tried to maintain her composure while finishing the doughnut orders.

Aria carefully transferred the beautifully crafted doughnuts into the bright pink box that Darcy had left on her table. She looked down at the delectable treats, feeling a sense of pride in her creations. Closing the box, she made her way to the window and set it down on the countertop outside. Turning to the tablet used for processing payments, she greeted the two men with a friendly smile.

“Alright, gentlemen, your total is $16.20 after the first responder discount,” Aria said, glancing over at the two men.

Before the blonde man could even react, the brunette quickly pulled out his wallet and handed over a twenty-dollar bill. “Keep the change,” he said with a playful wink, taking charge of the payment.

Aria felt her heart race a little faster, but she managed to nod in response, inwardly cursing her nervousness. “Th—thank you,” she stammered, trying her best to keep her cool.

“Have a good one, ma’am,” the blonde said with a warm smile as he took the box of doughnuts. He nudged the brunette, who seemed entranced by Aria, prompting him to stumble back a few steps before they both walked away.

As Aria bit her lip, trying to hide her smile, she celebrated her small victory before she noticed that the brunette was still looking back at her with a wild grin. Her face flushed with embarrassment, and she quickly ducked back inside the truck, trying to hide from his gaze. The whole encounter left her heart racing, and she couldn’t help but wonder if she’d see him again.

Steve's excitement was evident as he eagerly opened the lid to the bright pink box, revealing the array of sticky sweet, and fresh doughnuts inside. The delightful aroma wafted into his face, making his mouth water.

"I think I'm in love," Bucky sighed dreamily, unable to resist the temptation of the delectable treats as he snatched one of his doughnuts out of the box. He took a large bite, “Jesus,” he mumbled with his mouthful looking down at the doughnut in his hand.

Steve paused with his doughnut almost at his mouth, giving Bucky a playful look. "With the doughnut or the girl?” he asked, laughing.

“Do they have to be mutually exclusive?” Bucky asked before taking another bite.

Steve chuckled at Bucky's response, thoroughly enjoying the banter between them. "Fair enough," he said, taking a bite of his doughnut. "Guess you can have your doughnut and eat it too," he teased before devouring the rest of his treat.

Bucky grinned, his eyes twinkling mischievously. "Who says I can't have the best of both worlds?" he replied, savoring another mouthful of the delectable doughnut. They continued to enjoy their sweet indulgence on their way back to the Fire Department’s booth.

As Aria and Darcy finished packing up the food truck, they couldn't help but feel exhaustion and satisfaction from another successful day at Cubby Dough. It wasn't their first time running out of doughnuts, but they knew it meant they had served plenty of happy customers. The two friends decided to take advantage of their free afternoon and treat themselves. They locked up the truck and made their way to the farmers market, excited to explore and indulge in some of the delicious offerings from other vendors.

The farmers market was still bustling with activity, and Aria and Darcy relished in the sights and sounds around them. It was a well-deserved break for the duo, a chance to relax and enjoy the vibrant atmosphere of the local community.

“Oh hey, look who it is,” Darcy pointed toward the Pikesville Fire Department’s booth. “It’s the smokin’ hot fireman,” she says as the pair look through a display of hand-painted vases.

Darcy's playful comment about the "smokin' hot fireman" caught Aria's attention, and she followed Darcy's finger to spot the brunette at the Pikesville Fire Department's booth.

"Oh, cool, come on," Aria said, attempting to steer in the opposite direction.

Darcy was quick to intervene, snatching her friend's hand. "Ah ah ah," she chuckled, "Where do you think you're going?"

Aria blinked at her friend, puzzled by the question. "Isn't it obvious? Anywhere but near him, duh," she replied with a sheepish grin, trying to hide her mild embarrassment.

“Oh no, you don’t,” Darcy shook her head, laughing; she tugged Aria toward the booth.

When she got into this playful and determined mood, Aria knew better than to argue or stop Darcy. With a resigned sigh, she reluctantly followed her friend toward the Pikesville Fire Department's booth. Aria braced herself for whatever fun or mischief Darcy had in mind as they approached the booth.

A short blonde man greeted them warmly as they approached the table, offering them a Firemen's calendar to support the Pikesville Animal Welfare.

Darcy couldn't resist flipping through the calendar and teasingly muttered to Aria, "I'm gonna have to set my house on fire. Take a look at these guys." She tilted the calendar towards her friend, showcasing the tall blonde fireman who had come with the brunette. He was photographed wearing nothing but patriotic swim trunks and aviators, his chest glistening, and a flirty smile on his lips as he sprayed a hose; the golden retriever next to him was living her best life chomping at the water.

"Darcy," Aria said, trying to hide her amusement.

 Aria couldn't help but be drawn to the poster board displaying animals available for adoption. Among them was a black cat named Smokey, with shiny black fur and beautiful yellow eyes. She found herself contemplating the idea of adopting him.

Darcy's amused voice interrupted her thoughts, still ogling the firefighters' calendar. "I wouldn't even think about it," she advised. "Doom wouldn't even look at you for a week after you brought your goldfish home; I can't imagine how she'll react if you bring another cat home."

Aria frowned, acknowledging that Darcy had a valid point. Doom Kitty, her temperamental feline companion, was not the easiest to get along with. Despite her delicate appearance and sweet meow, she had a feisty side and often showed her claws to anyone other than Aria. Even with Aria, she sometimes seemed more tolerated than genuinely liked.

"Well, hello there, Mr. October," Darcy playfully sang out, cocking her head to the side. "Aria, you gotta see this," she said, turning the calendar toward her friend.

Aria blinked as the calendar was thrust into her face, and her eyes fell upon the stormy blue-eyed man, shirtless with red suspenders against his tanned, toned physique; his chest had a fine dusting of hair across it, dark pink nipples, the hair seem to disappear over his well defined six pack the dusting of dark hair narrowing just under his navel disappearing into the slung low waistband of his turnout pants, showing off his Adonis belt. He stood on a ladder propped against a beautiful tree with vibrant autumn leaves in reds, browns, orange, and yellow hues. Surrounding the tree were jack-o-lanterns and hay bales, adding to the seasonal charm. He firmly gripped the ladder in one hand while the other held a black cat against his naked torso. He smiled, half-smirking for the camera, his disheveled brown hair adding a hint of charm to his rugged appearance. The picture defiantly captured the essence of October and the spirit of the season.

"I can get him to sign that for you," the short blonde said with a friendly smile. He leaned over the table, propping his head on his elbows as he looked up at them.

Aria and Darcy exchanged glances, Darcy excited and mischievous, while Aria silently begged her friend not to go through with it. "Oh, that would be amazing!" Darcy exclaimed, her eyes lighting up with mischief, clearly ignoring her friend's silent plea.

Aria couldn't help but glare at Darcy, trying to convey her reluctance. "Oh, you really don't have to," she said to the friendly fireman, mustering a smile.

The short blonde nodded, his warm smile never fading. "Nonsense!" he assured them with a wave of his hand. "It's for a good cause, after all."

"Oh, I'm Darcy, by the way," she introduced herself with a smile, holding out her hand to the man.

"Clint," he replied, shaking her hand.

Darcy couldn't resist adding a playful twist to the introduction. "Oh, and this is Aria; she totally has a thing for Mr. October," Darcy grinned wickedly, teasing her friend.

Aria's face flushed with embarrassment, and she playfully nudged Darcy, trying to downplay the comment. "Ignore her, please," she said, chuckling softly. Clint chuckled, too, finding their banter amusing.

Clint playfully drummed his hand on the table. "Don't move, ladies. I'll be right back," he winked before quickly turning on his heels and jogging towards the fire engine.

Aria couldn't help but hiss at Darcy, feeling embarrassed. "I hate you," she whispered through clenched teeth.

Darcy laughed at her friend's reaction, teasingly insisting, "No, you don't. You love me," she said with a mischievous grin, knowing that Aria's frustration was all in good fun.

Clint couldn’t resist teasing his friend as he approached Bucky and Steve. “Hey Buck, got a pretty lady over here that has a thing for Mr. October,” he said with a sly grin.

Bucky’s interest was piqued, and he looked up eagerly. “Oh yeah?” he asked, licking his lips with curiosity.

Clint playfully pointed to the two women standing in front of their table, drawing Bucky’s attention to Aria and Darcy.

One of them had her hair braided in playful pigtails; she was dressed in denim capris and the same black t-shirt he had seen earlier. As Bucky’s eyes landed on the woman standing next to her friend, he couldn’t help but be captivated by her appearance all over again. Her hair was down from its messy bun, and the sunlight caught the purple hues mixed into her dark locks, adding a touch of uniqueness to her look. Now that he had the opportunity, Bucky let his eyes roam down her full body; he’d missed the purple crystal necklace hanging around her neck, resting on her full breast that stretched out the shirt. He licked his lips, admiring her soft-looking tummy, wondering how her curves would feel under his hands. God bless whoever made those denim shorts hugging her plump ass and thick thighs showing off her beautifully tattooed legs; Bucky wanted to get more aquatinted with legs.

“Oh ho ho,” Steve chuckled, playfully slapping Bucky’s shoulder. “Looks like the doughnut goddess has heard your prayers,” he teased, referring to Aria, who seemed to have captured Bucky’s attention.

Bucky laughed along, giving Steve a mock-annoyed look. “Yeah, yeah,” he replied, rolling his eyes in good humor.

As Bucky and Steve followed Clint over to where the women stood, they were introduced to the charming duo.

Clint pointed to Steve and said, “Ladies, this here is our Captain Steve Rogers, aka Mr. July.” Steve gave a friendly nod to Darcy and Aria, acknowledging the introduction.

Next, Clint gestured toward Bucky and said with a playful grin, “And this here is our Lieutenant Bucky Barnes, aka Mr. October.” He wagged his brows in Aria’s direction, adding a touch of flirtatiousness to the introduction.

Aria’s cheeks turned even redder, and she felt a wave of embarrassment wash over her. The playful teasing and unexpected attention made her feel flustered, and she wished she could disappear.

“Aria here has a thing for Mr. October and wants him to sign her calendar,” Clint announced with a playful smile.

Bucky raised a curious eyebrow, “Is that so?” he asked, a smirk playing on his pretty pink lips as he held his hand out for the calendar. Which Darcy quickly handed over.

Aria was beginning to wonder if one could die from embarrassment. “I like black cats,” she blurted out awkwardly. Desperately wishing for a giant hole could appear and swallow her up.

Bucky chuckled warmly and teased, “I hope that’s not all you liked,” he winked, signing his name to the corner.

Aria’s cheeks reddened further; she was going to murder Darcy.

Before anyone could speak, a series of urgent tones came through the radio attached to Steve and Bucky’s belt, and everyone around the booth stilled to listen.

“Engine two, this is Central Dispatch—code 3. We have a report of a structure fire on 708 North Maple Street. Please respond immediately,” the voice on the other end urgently relayed.

Steve wasted no time and reached up to press the button on his microphone. “Engine two, Roger, over,” he replied promptly, his voice steady and focused.

Aria and Darcy stood in awe as Steve, Bucky, and Clint sprang into action, their years of training evident in their swift movements. The fire engine stood ready, its sirens blaring as the crew readied themselves to respond to the emergency; turnout gear seemingly appeared out of thin air as they efficiently dressed.

As the engine roared to life, Bucky gave Aria a reassuring wink before climbing aboard. Steve and Clint exchanged quick glances before they joined Bucky on the engine. In a matter of seconds, they were off, racing towards the structure fire. The engine’s sirens faded into the distance.

Inside the fire engine, Bucky glanced over at Steve, a hint of regret evident on his face. “I should have gotten her number,” he admitted, speaking into the coms.

Steve chuckled, a playful tone in his voice, “You didn’t write yours down when you signed the calendar?”

Bucky’s expression turned sheepish, and he shrugged, “Guess I was too focused on not tripping over my words.”

Clint, who was listening in on the conversation, chimed in with a teasing remark, “Smooth move, Barnes.”

Bucky rolled his eyes good-naturedly, “Thanks for the support, guys.”

Just then, Sam’s voice joined the coms, adding to the banter, “Hey, Bucky, don’t worry. You’ve got the charm of a superhero. I’m sure she won’t forget you that easily.”

Thor’s booming voice followed suit, “Indeed! Fear not, my friend. Many a warrior has stumbled in the presence of a fair maiden. It happens to the best of us!”

Natasha, who had been quiet until now, couldn’t resist joining in, “Oh, come on, boys. Give him a break. We’ve all been there. It’s not easy to flirt when your heart is racing faster than Quicksilver.” She winked at him.

Bucky couldn’t help but laugh at his friends’ comments. “Thanks, appreciate the pep talk.”

As the engine continued toward the scene of the fire, their camaraderie and playful banter lifted their spirits amidst the intensity of the situation.

Two weeks later….

“Doom, please come down,” Aria begged, her voice filled with concern as she looked up into the giant oak tree in her front yard. “Come on, Doom Kitty, please.”

The feline, perched high on a large branch, meowed softly, seemingly indifferent to Aria’s pleas. It stretched out leisurely, basking in the comfort of its elevated spot.

Aria’s heart sank with worry as she tried to coax the stubborn cat down. She sighed, reaching up as if she could physically coax the cat down. “I don’t know how you managed to get up there,” she said, half-amused and half-exasperated.

Doom let out another tiny meow as if acknowledging Aria but showed no intention of budging from its lofty perch.

Suddenly, Darcy appeared by Aria’s side, eating a bowl of Cinnamon Toast Crunch. “Still not budging?” she asked, looking up at the tree.

“It’s Doom Kitty; she doesn’t do anything she doesn’t want to do,” Aria replied, gesturing upward with one hand while the other rested on her hip.

Darcy chuckled, observing the defiant feline. “Looks like she’s quite content up there.”

“Yeah, I think she’s just enjoying the view,” Aria said with a small smile, but her concern was still evident.

The two friends exchanged glances before Darcy suggested, “Why don’t we try shaking the treat bag? Maybe that’ll tempt her down.”

Aria nodded, liking the idea. “Good thinking. Let’s give it a shot.”

As Darcy came back with the treat bag, Aria held her breath, praying Doom would actually be tempted by the treats. The sound of the treats rattling inside seemed to pique Doom’s curiosity. The cat perked up, its ears twitching.

“Come on, Doom Kitty,” Aria called gently, shaking the bag a bit more.

The feline looked around and then down at her owner, almost glaring as she turned around.

As minutes passed, and Doom showed no signs of budging, Aria's worry escalated. "I don't know what to do," she said, her voice tinged with concern.

Darcy pulled out her phone. "I think we should call for help," she suggested. "Let's dial the fire department. They'll have the right tools to get her down safely."

“Uh, no, I don’t think were—

“Too late,” Darcy interrupted happily as she walked back towards the house to explain the situation to the operator.

Aria sighed, defeated, “This is all you’re fault,” she grumbled, scowling at the cat in the tree.

Within minutes, the sound of sirens filled the air, and the fire engine pulled up in front of Aria's house.

Aria recognized the familiar figure stepping out of the fire engine, and her heart sank. It was Bucky; she couldn’t help but notice how good he looked in his turnout gear. The jacket hung open, revealing a navy PFD shirt underneath, and his hair appeared slightly disheveled and sweaty. When their eyes met, Bucky smirked, seemingly amused by Aria’s flushed cheeks and embarrassed expression. Aria couldn’t help but feel self-consciousness under his gaze.

“Hey there, Aria,” he greeted warmly, his voice carrying a hint of playful teasing. "I hear we have a daring feline in a tree?"

“Hey, Hi, um, Bucky,” Aria managed, pushing up her glasses, feeling a mix of relief and awkwardness at the same time. "Yes, that's Doom," she said, gesturing towards the tree. “I’m sorry, Darcy called; it’s just so cliché. Cat stuck up in a tree,” she rambled.

Bucky chuckled, his blue eyes twinkling. “It’s no problem at all; it’s not every day I get to rescue a pretty girl's kitty from a tree,” he replied, his smirk never leaving his lips.

Aria giggled; she actually giggled. Now she has to move out of town, out of the state, and change her name and hair color.  Bucky winked at her before he addressed the other two firefighters with him.

Aria and Darcy watched with careful coordination as a ladder extended into the tree; Bucky climbed up it. They watched as Bucky expertly made his way up the tree, reaching out toward Doom with gentle gestures.

"Hey there, Doom Kitty," he called softly, trying to calm the agitated feline. "No need to be scared. I won't hurt you."

However, Doom was having none of it. The closer Bucky got, the more she hissed and growled, clearly not pleased with this unexpected visitor in her domain.

Bucky kept his cool, softening his voice, "It's alright, girl. I just want to help you get down safely," he said, trying to soothe her nerves.

Aria and Darcy watched with concern and amusement as Bucky engaged in a subtle "dance" with Doom Kitty, attempting to gain her trust. There were several swipes with her claws extended at Bucky’s hand; he tugged the glove off, offering the feisty feline his hand for her to sniff. Finally, after a few tense moments, Doom's agitation seemed to subside slightly. She stopped hissing and growling, allowing Bucky to move closer.

"There we go, girl," Bucky said gently, inching closer to Doom with caution. "You're doing great."

With a few more patient efforts, Bucky reached Doom and gently cradled her in his arms. He carefully made his way back down the tree, ensuring the safety of both himself and the feisty feline.

Once they were safely on the ground, Aria rushed forward to take Doom into her arms, relieved to have her furry friend back on solid ground.

“Doom Kitty,” she sighed, taking the grumpy cat from Bucky’s arms. “Thank you,” she said, biting her bottom lip and looking up at the fireman through her lashes.

Doom looked around, seemingly unimpressed by the whole situation. Her feline eyes met Aria’s, and for a moment, it almost seemed as if Doom was giving her owner a disapproving glare.

Aria couldn’t help but chuckle at the comical expression on her cat’s face. “Oh, don’t give me that look, Doom,” she teased affectionately. “You’re the one who got yourself into that mess.”

Doom flicked her tail in response as if to say, “I did it my way.”

Bucky joined in the laughter, finding Doom’s attitude amusing. “She’s got quite the personality,” Bucky remarked, reaching out to pet the cat.

Aria chuckled, feeling a bit more at ease in Bucky's presence. "That's an understatement," she said, rubbing Doom's head affectionately. “She’s a little diva.”

Doom purred contently, enjoying the attention despite her earlier defiance.

As the rest of the team finished packing their equipment, Bucky stepped closer to Aria. “You know, despite the chaos, I’m glad we got to see each other again,” he said with a hint of sincerity.

Aria blushed even more, her heart fluttering at the genuine sentiment in his words. “Yeah, me too,” she admitted, trying to gather her thoughts through her nerves.

Bucky leaned in slightly, his voice lower and filled with charm. “My shift ends in two hours; maybe we could grab a coffee or something together?” he suggested a hopeful glimmer in his eyes.

“I’d like that,” she replied, mustering a confident smile.

As the two of them exchanged numbers, Bucky promised to text her later that day to set up a time for their coffee date. Aria felt excitement and anticipation as she watched him climb back into the fire engine. She couldn’t help but smile as she watched him drive away.

Aria felt a sense of possibility in the air. There was something different about this encounter with Bucky, something that made her heart flutter with the start of something new.

As she stood there, the cool breeze gently brushing against her cheeks, Aria realized that Doom’s mischievous adventure had unexpectedly led her to a chance encounter with Bucky.

“You didn’t plan that, did you?” she asked Doom.

“Murph,” Doom Kitty replied.

Aria raised an eyebrow, “I don’t believe you,” she mumbled, walking back inside her house; Aria’s phone buzzed, and she eagerly checked her messages.

It was Bucky, just as he promised, setting up their coffee date for later that day. Her excitement grew as she replied enthusiastically, looking forward to spending more time with him. Aria couldn’t help but feel the sparks of something special in the air as she lay on the couch that afternoon. She knew that this unexpected meeting had the potential to lead to new beginnings, and she embraced the feeling with an open heart.

Little did she know that the adventurous spirit of her mischievous grumpy cat and the bravery of the firefighter who came to her rescue had set the stage for a beautiful connection that would blossom into a meaningful journey together.

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