#slow jams goddess

[ellatoone7]

❄︎ One step at a time ❄︎

Alexia's favourite girls series

You don't know how to swim Warnings: slight smut, suggestive themes.

Alexia has always known you had a slight fear of water, assuming it was just one of those phobias that people have. She honestly found it adorable at how you would cling to her around huge bodies of water. Your girlfriend was more than happy to play the hero when it came to you.

What she didn’t know however was that it wasn’t your fear of water that stopped you from joining her in the sea or in pools. The blonde wanted to kick herself for not noticing sooner. It was your first holiday alone together when your schedules weren’t jam packed.

It has been a very important year for the two of you. You had just bought a shared flat in Barcelona and you couldn’t be happier. Having a place with no interruption was pure bliss for the both of you, as you both relished in your shared intimacy.

Alexia has surprised you with the trip, a two week getaway on this incredibly romantic island to celebrate the huge step in your relationship. It was hard when you were in England, although it was incredibly worthwhile and you had achieved everything you had wanted there, you couldn’t be more happy than to finally settle down with the love of your life.

The few days you had been on the remote island were pure bliss. Free from all distractions and responsibilities as you and Alexia just enjoyed being young. You were quite proud of yourself for being able to keep your secret for so long. You knew she would catch on eventually but you didn’t want her to think any less of you. Your insecurity of not being able to swim, a basic skill that most people had, was at the back of your mind.

It was only a few days in when Alexia started getting suspicious, she had pleaded with you to go for one swim with her but you brushed her if nonchalanty, feeding her some poor excuse about how you had just gotten your hair done and you wanted to keep the fresh looking glow. That seemed to placate your girlfriend and you were more than happy to sit back and watch her from the sun lounger.

A sight she was, toned and tanned arms pulling the rest of her goddess-like body out of the pool. You were surprised your lip hadn't busted with how hard you were biting at it as her abs flexed deliciously. Your girlfriend sent you a cocky smirk as she made her way over to you, “Like what you see?” You huffed at her teasing tone but it didn’t stop you from taking your eyes down her body.

“Just take me to bed, Putellas.” You sighed knowing that’s where you would end up anyway. Alexia chuckled softly before throwing her towel on the empty lounger next to you, catching you with no effort at all as your legs wrapped around her waist. Teeth tugging at your earlobe softly as she husked into your ear, “As you wish Princesa.”

Another added bonus of renting out a private villa was that Alexia could quite literally have you anywhere she wanted, at any time she wanted and she took advantage of that, many times. You thanked whatever god there was that they gifted your girlfriend with the ability to play football because god that woman had stamina for days.

You had gotten away with your secret for nearly half the week before she caught on.

Your soft moans echoed around the luxurious villa, knuckles going white with how hard you gripped the sheets. Your hips bucked up to meet her gentle licks as huge hands slithered out from the covers to cup your breasts. It was your third orgasm of the day which was nothing compared to how many times she made you cum yesterday. You didn’t hear any complaints from the woman as she happily partook in her absolute favourite activity, making you cum.

Once your body stopped shaking and your heart rate slowed down a fraction, Alexia decided to make her appearance. Head popping up from the covers as she begrudgingly wiped her mouth with the back of her hand. She was a sweaty mess from being trapped under the sheets, baby hairs sticking to her forehead as she rested her warm cheek against the cool pillow, half lying on top of you.

Her hand rubbed soothingly against your equally hot skin, she turned her body slowly while tangling your legs and cradling you to her chest. She kissed your forehead and then your cheek as you nuzzled into her.

“Ay dios, I need a swim after that.” She breathed, gathering her hair into a ponytail as she slowly pulled herself from the sticky sheets. “Vamos, amor! I’m not taking no for an answer.” Just as you were about to make another excuse, Alexia picked you up and the panic hit you.

“Alé no!” Without noticing the terror in your voice Alexia laughed it off thinking you were just being slightly dramatic. “Bebita, you haven’t swam with me once and your fear of water needs to stop.”

As you inch closer to the pool, your panic rises even further, “Alexia, I’m serious, put me down!” It was her full name and the cry of panic that had her gently placing you on the floor.

“Cariño?” She asked softly as your nails dug into the skin of her forearm, “Que pasa?” You couldn’t even look at her as you fidget with the rings on your finger. You mumbled something under your breath that Alexia couldn’t for her life decipher.

She gave you a knowing look and you sighed before stepping back out of her embrace. The blonde's eyebrows furrowed with worry and you decided that enough was enough.

“I can’t swim.” Alexia’s eyebrows rose in surprise and a soft smile took over her face. “I know, it’s stupid.” Alexia seemed to crash back to reality as she was quick to quell your rambling. She placed a quick but firm kiss against your lips, “Amor, why didn’t you tell me?” You tucked your face in her neck as she wrapped her arms around you protectively. “Amor?” She was coaxing you gently as you muttered shyly into her neck.

“I was embarrassed, it's embarrassing!” You whined softly. Alexia cooed, fingers digging softly into your waist, a small reminder that she was your best friend and you could tell her anything. “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you.” Your hand crept up to cup the back of her neck, any point of contact comforting you.

“So you never had a fear of water.” You giggled into her chest, “No, I’m sorry.” Alexia smiled teasingly, “You need to stop apologising.” You nodded, going to apologise again before Alexia silenced you with another soft kiss.

The day flew by with mild teasing from your girlfriend as the two of you lounged in the hot sun. Alexia was making dinner as you went to freshen yourself up, not liking how sticky the sun made you. Alexia was reminiscing about your earlier confession, hand stirring the sauce repeatedly to prevent it from burning.

That’s when the idea popped into her head, a proud smile sitting on her face. It stayed there as you came down the stairs, clad in one of her Barcelona jerseys and shorts. Alexia’s smile brightens as your smaller body clings to her much taller frame.

You didn’t notice anything weird until you both sat down on the couch with your bowls. You happily accepted the bite she offered you, knowing that she wouldn’t be able to enjoy her meal if she didn’t give you the first bite.

The mischievous smile crept onto her face as you flicked through the channels. You gave her an apprehensive look as she tilted her head, a strong sign that she was about to suggest something that you wouldn’t like.

“Spit it out Putellas.” You raised an eyebrow, “Mi princesa.” She started, grabbing the bowl and placing it on the table so she had your full attention. You knew you really weren’t going to like it when her hand slid down to your bare thigh, fingers playing with the hem of your shorts.

“Let me teach you how to swim.” You were immediately shaking your head, “Here me out!” She guided your leg over hers as she manoeuvred you to straddle her. You didn’t meet her hazel eyes, knowing you would cave. Alexia knew you too well though, hand cradling your jaw to look down at her.

“Ale!” You whined as her lips grazed your neck. “Come on mi amor, I promise we can go slow.” She tried again, knowing that you were gonna agree. Her teeth sunk into the skin of your neck softly, “Fine.” You grumbled as she quietly cheered against the column of your throat.

You didn’t think much of it for the rest of the night, your girlfriend proving to be far too distracting to pay anything else even an ounce of attention. It wasn’t until you were rudely awakened by a piercing screech of whistle, you shot up in bed prepared to make your girlfriend fight the intruder.

The said intruder was your girlfriend. A gold whistle hanging from her mouth and sunglasses covering her pretty eyes. You stare up at her incredulously, “Why the fuck do you have a whistle!” Alexia blew it again, “Do not question your coach.” You scoffed before pulling the sheet above your head, you heard the older girl sigh, smiling happily to yourself thinking you had won until you were swooped up into her strong arms.

“You didn’t think it would be that easy, bebita?” You slapped softly at her tanned shoulder defeatedly as she walked the two of you out to the pool. “Can I atleast get a kiss?” You grumbled, cupping the back of her neck, “If I ever say no to that cariño, you can shoot me.” You smile playfully into the kiss, biting at her bottom lip for her effortless display of strength. She didn’t even quiver with the weight of you.

She let you down slowly, stealing one more kiss before going back into coach mode. “¡Vamos amor! Stretch.” You glare at her as she blows her whistle, and you sit on one of the beds, “If you blow that whistle one more time, I swear to god!” Alexia only smirks cockily with the whistle in her mouth, “You love it.” You tried to contain your smile but hers was infectious.

“I’ve just eaten Alexia, I can’t swim.” Alexia sends you a look, “That’s a myth.” You grumbled at her quick comeback, “It’s dangerous to swim when you're tired.” Alecia smirked at this and raised her eyebrows suggestively, “Bebita, You could be a lot more tired if I had my way.” You huffed again, standing up and hitting her shoulder playfully. You dipped your toe into the water and squealed, “It’s too cold!” Alexia sighs incredulously, “You’re just making excuses at this point.”

“Bien, bien. Come here.” She resigned, holding out her hand for you to take, which you did gladly. She picked up on your apprehension quickly, “Hey, I will be right here the whole time.” You stared up at her, “You promise.” She laughs softly, kissing your cheek, “Sí, the whole time.” You nodded, pursing your lips for another kiss which she was quick to give.

You only caught the pile of pool noodles when you looked over her shoulder, “Can I have a purple one?” You asked adorably. Alexia’s shoulders shook in a quiet chuckle, “Of course you can amor.” You let out a happy giggle before running over to grab one.

“Okay you ready?” You looked at her strangely, “Where’s my life jacket?” Alexia laughed as she guided you over to the ladder. It was when she saw your serious expression did she stop laughing. You waited patiently with your arms out. Alexias opened and closed her mouth a few times, genuinely not knowing how to respond.

She descended into laughter again but this time she had to bend over with how much her abdomen hurt from laughing. You crossed your arms and pouted, all you needed to do was stamp your foot and you would be having a full blown tantrum. “Lo siento, lo siento!” She laughed out, trying to catch her breath from her fit.

“You don’t need a life jacket.” You opened your mouth to protest but a slender finger covered it, “ Nope, you don’t need one.” Alexia eased herself into the water, trying to coax you in after her. “Alright, I’ve got you. Don’t worry.” Her smile told you that you could trust her and you knew that but you were still nervous.

You sat down at the edge of the pool, both of your feet submerging in the water. “Good job amorcita!” She waded over to stand in between your legs, a comforting hand sliding up your thigh as you tried to calm down.

“What if I drown?” You ask fearfully, eyes widening as you start to pull your legs out in a panic. Her hands tightened around your legs, restricting your movement and effectively stopping you from your panic. “I’m not going to let you drown.” She muttered softly, leaning up to kiss you reassuringly.

“Besides the water is five feet deep, I’m sure you’re going to be fine.” You giggled softly at her joke, wrapping your legs around her and pulling her that much closer. Alexia kisses your collarbone gently, before her hands slid along your hip bone. She gently lifted your body and eased you into the water. You sighed in relief as your feet touched the bottom comfortably.

“Don’t let go.” The blonde chuckled, guiding you to wrap your legs around her waist again. “Oh, I won’t.” Alexias kissed you deeply, temporarily forgetting what her job was.

After a few more minutes of heated kissing, Alexia decided to show you an example. She deposited you against the edge of the pool that you immediately clung onto. She laughed endearingly before showing you the basics of swimming. She effortlessly glided through the water and you bit your lip at how her muscles rippled with each pump of her arm.

You watched in horror as she ducked underneath the water and reappeared again. “I’m not doing that.” You warned as she shook and swiped a few stray strands of her wet hair back into place. “One step at a time.” She reminds you, holding out her hands for you to grab instead of mauling the wall.

Alexia gently guided you to the deeper end, you had strayed to calm down at her constant reminder that she wouldn’t let go of you for a second. Ever the coach, she had you laying on your back and floating in under three minutes.

The actual swimming part was harder than she had expected but she was so patient. Your legs flailed as you tried desperately to kick, getting more water in Alexia’s mouth than your own. Alexia had to put you in time out for kicking her square in the jaw, twice.

“You’re lethal.” You winced apologetically, stroking the sore spot on her jaw, “I’m so sorry.” She kisses your hand, a smile letting you know she was only teasing. “What have I told you about apologising bebita?”

Alexia convinced you to try again and this time you managed to stay afloat without any stray kicks to the face. You were eternally grateful with how patient she was as she encouraged you every step of the way. You were rewarded with kisses which only prompted you to do better.

Eventually it came the time where she had to let you go. Surprisingly you were determined to do it by yourself, wanting to impress your coach. “Are you sure you’re ready?” She had asked worriedly, “I mean it’s your first day!” You scoffed and prepared yourself, pushing her away softly. “What was it you said? One step at a time. Well I’ve reached this step and now you need to let me go.” Alexia bit her lip before nodding, pride shining in her hazel eyes as she stepped back.

You moved at snail pace but you managed to get to the other side, Alexia’s comforting words getting you there. Once you were safely clutching at the wall you let out a squeal of excitement, looking back at your girlfriend was making her way over with a huge smile lighting up her face. The blonde wasted no time in picking you and parading you around the pool,

“I’m so proud of you mi princesa!” She praised holding you close as she pressed her lips to every inch of your face. “Thank you for teaching me.” You sighed, kissing her soundly.

Once the excitement died down, you felt a little silly for celebrating something so basic. Alexia always read you like a book and this was no different. Instead of forcing it out of you she decided to wait for you to formulate your words, leaving soft kisses to your jaw.

“I feel like this is something I should have known..” You finally admit, fingers playing with the whistle around her neck. Alexia’s eyes softened at your deflated form before lightly scolding you, “Hey, It’s fine. There’s so many people who don’t know how to swim.” You didn’t look reassured so she gently forced you to look at her, “It's the first day, you’re not going to be perfect.”

You continued playing with the whistle as a small smile rested on your face. You were so in love with the woman in front of you, it was kind of ridiculous.

“I love you.” You breathed out, palm coming to rest upon her cheek as you pulled her down to rest her forehead against yours. She smiled lovingly, eyes shining with pure adoration as she kissed you yet again, “Te amo mucho my little fish.” You cringed as she laughed loudly, hand coming up to cover her mouth in pure embarrassment.

“You just ruined the moment Alé.”

All prompts used are from @novelbear 🫶

[whatyadrawin]

The Fruit After the Flesh 18+ -Chapter 12-

Minors DNI!

Masterlist

Approximately 2,084 words

Pairing: Thomas Hewitt (Headcanon) x AFAB reader

This chapters Warnings:  Sexual language, foul language, use of a slur, violence, IMAGES DEPICTING BLOOD (no gore). This is Slasher smut, be mindful of that and use your discretion.

A/n: This short chapter straight up flew at my brain immediately following the last chapter. The end of this chapter had me feeling very cocky lol, its probably cringe but its free. LET ME KNOW IF YOU GIGGLED AND KICKED YOUR FEET AT THE LAST SENTENCE. I tried to rush out the art so please don't be too ruthless about it being sloppy, I just wanted to get this chapter out for you all to read ASAP. Let me know if you want to be in the tag list. I update chapter progress on the masterlist whenever something changes.

Please enjoy this chapter! I worked very hard on it so reblogs, comments, and likes are appreciated very much.

Tag List: @fan-goddess , @artxasa , @baybaybear1 , @amour-tae

Chapter 12

                The night air filled your lungs, you were doubled over trying to regain consciousness after being choked by Dover. Your body was covered in dirt, nothing but a bra and underwear were protecting you from the elements; once you caught your breath you slowly got up, you heard screams followed by the sound of a chainsaw. You turned to look around and saw Dover crawling away from a large man wielding the source of the rattling engine.

You walked closer to the scene unfolding in front of you, only to realize that the one standing before Dover was none other than Tommy. You watch as Tommy stomps on one of Dover’s legs, you hear it snap from the bone breaking on impact, Dover screams in pain and pleads for his life,

“Please, PLEASE! I promise t’leave n’ never come back if y’let me go, Im beggin’ ya!”

Tommy didn’t respond, he just stood there revving the motor of the chainsaw, smoke billowed out of the exhaust swirling around him. You call out,

“Tommy! Wait!”

He turns around to look at you, his expression was unlike any you had ever seen him make, he looked possessed. Tommy wasn’t in there at that moment, it was something else, a demon. Dover took the opportunity of Tommy looking away to get up and limp off as fast as he could, he still had the large knife in his hand from when he was in the hole. Tommy turned around and slowly followed Dover as he tried to escape, you followed them both.

Dover managed to hide among the trees, Tommy was searching for him as if it were a twisted game of hide-and-seek. Tommy circled around, thrusting the chainsaw into bushes and breathing heavily, he looked through the bush he just cut through. Dover popped up behind him and jammed the knife deep into Tommy’s back, he let out an otherworldly roar, not of pain but rather frustration at being bested. Tommy spun around but Dover was hiding again, you followed closely hoping to call Tommy off so you could both get to safety.

You felt an arm circle around your torso, it was Dover, he had captured you and held the knife to your throat as he held back your arm,

“Hey freak!” He called out to Tommy, “If y’don’t fuck off, then yer little whore gets sliced up!”

Tommy spun around, now he was raging and furious, Dover pulled you with him as he walked backwards, his movements stopped when you heard a click,

“Don’t fukin’ move shit heel” You heard Charlie’s voice,

“Let her go or I blow what little brains you got out your fuckin’ nose.” His voice was even tempered and stern.

Dover released you from his grip, you pushed off of him and ran behind Charlie who was holding a pistol against the back of Dover’s head. Dover put his hands up, Charlie lowered the gun and smirked,

“Now run, little piggy.”

Dover bolted, his broken leg was slowing him down but he pushed through the pain to get away, yelping with each step. Charlie looked at Tommy and smirked,

“Kill him.”

Tommy let out a low growl as he raised the chainsaw forward and sprinted after Dover; Charlie grabbed your arm and started walking you away from the direction Tommy went, he asked,

“You hurt girlie?”

You don’t answer the question and instead say,

“I don’t want to leave Tommy!”

Charlie continues to pull you away, ensuring you couldn’t turn to look,

“Don’t worry ‘bout him, you hurt?” He asks.

You reply, “I’m in pain but, I think I’m ok.”

The sound of a blood curdling scream is heard in the distance, it was met with the sound of the roaring chainsaw cutting through something, you knew what was happening but you couldn’t believe that it was real.

You finally made it to the house and the chainsaw sound had ceased so you knew whatever happened was over. When you get inside, Luda Mae runs to hold you, she looks over your body and brings you over to the parlor where she had a tub of warm water with a washcloth and some gauze,

“Oh god you poor thing, I’m so glad you’re ok. Come here n’ let me clean you up.”

You sit on the couch and she dumps the cloth in the warm water, she rinses the dirt off your skin and begins to look over your body for wounds. You just sat there unable to do anything, you were in a state of bewilderment at the string of events that took place. Luda Mae puts a blanket over you and give you a glass of water then goes to speak to Charlie; they both start speaking quietly. You drink the water and blankly stare at a spot on the rug, your mind began to quiet, you felt like shock was setting in.

Your trance is broken by the sound of the front door opening, Luda Mae calls out,

“Oh, my boy, my sweet, sweet boy, I’m so sorry you had to do that again. Are you hurt?” you could hear the worry in her voice.

You fling the blanket off you and run towards the door, the sight you were met with sent a shiver down your spine. Tommy was covered in blood and his eyes had a distant look to them, a zombie-like expression plastered on his face.

“Tommy?” you were unsure if it was really him, you had never seen him like that before.

You walk up to him and take his hand in yours; he doesn’t even look at you, he slowly walks past you and heads to the basement door, his breathing was heavy and he made a low, animalistic growl as he moved.

You ask, “What’s wrong with him?”

Charlie looks at you, then he looks at Luda Mae,

He says, “He gets like this after a kill, just leave him be.”

“What? So, he really has done it before…” you mumbled.

You went to your room to grab a first aid kit and made your way back to the basement door to go look after him,

Charlie tries to stop you, “Stay away from him girly, if you know what’s good.”

You ignore him and shut the door behind you, following the drops of blood down the stairs.

The trail leads to Tommy’s room, you take a deep breath and open the door. You see Tommy sitting on the bed staring off into nothing, he doesn’t even acknowledge your presence, the room is dark and he is illuminated only by the red of the light outside his door. You walk up to him slowly; he was now breathing steadily but the breaths were slow and full. You turn on the light that was sitting on his nightstand, he still doesn’t move, you get up on his bed to check the wound on his back, its deep and slowly oozing blood.

You leave his bedroom to grab a bucket and wash cloth from the laundry room, when you get back, Tommy was still unmoved and had a thousand-yard stare. You place the bucket next to him and sit on the bed, you begin to gently wash off the blood from the wound, you sigh as you see it needs a gauze bandage but Tommy is covered in blood and needs to be cleaned before you dress any wounds.

You slowly remove the shirt he had on, it was once white, but now was stained a dark red, you unbuckle his pants but are unable to pull them off since he was sitting. You decide to get his mask off so he could breathe better and wash his face. You slowly pull the mask off but before you could get a good look, Tommy grabs your wrists and throws you onto the bed. He gets up and crawls over top of you, pinning your wrists down, you try to struggle out of it but he has a firm grasp on you and his massive body engulfs yours, you look at his face and see the damage from his past. Tommy is missing skin on one side of his face so badly that his teeth are clearly visible, he lets out a deafening roar, his face inches away from yours and you scream in fear. It was like having a bear attacking you, he was not himself, he was barely acting human. You didn’t care, you knew he needed help,

“Tommy stop! It’s me!” you pleaded with him hoping he could calm down a bit,

“I just want to help! You’re hurt!” you continued.

Tommy was breathing heavily, his eyes slowly started to focus and his pupils became visible again, he immediately let go of you and got off your body. You let out a sigh of relief and sat up,

“Let’s get you to the shower, come on.” You took his hand and pulled him to the bathroom near the laundry area.

He followed you willingly, holding onto your hand firmly. When you got to the bathroom, you turned on the tub faucet and plugged the drain so it would fill with hot water. You took off Tommys pants and stopped before you went to remove his undergarment,

“Tommy, can you take off your underwear and get into the tub for me?” you asked in a hushed tone.

Despite the circumstances, you still wanted to give him some respect and autonomy. You turned your head to look away as he removed his underwear, when you heard him get into the tub you turned back around. A bar of soap was on the wall ledge, the tub itself was a massive claw foot tub and had a lot of space around it, you sat yourself behind his head, wet the soap in the water, and started rubbing suds into his hair. Tommy let out a long sigh, he was starting to return to his normal behavior,

You say, “Thank you for saving me back there.”

He shakes his head, “I didn’t keep you safe.”

You lean over to look at him, “How could you have?”

He sinks into the water slowly and replies,

“I should’ve been there to stop him from takin’ you.”

You furl your eyebrows and follow,

“If you didn’t come when you did, I wouldn’t be alive right now, you saved my life.”

He lets out a long breath and says,

“Nothin' bad’s gon’ happen to you ever again. I promise.”

“You can’t promise that, you won’t always be there when bad things happen. You're only human.” Your words were sincere.

He washed the rest of the blood off his body and face, then sat up and turned his head to you, he said,

“I ain’t human.”

You laugh, “What are you then?”

He looks away and thinks,

“I dunno, a monster I guess, least that’s what everyone calls me.”

You feel a wave of sadness wash over you, he continues,

“Everyone was always runnin’ n’ screamin’ when they saw me, yellin’ ‘Monster!’”

You put the soap down and get up to position yourself next to him, you gently pull his face to look at yours and say,

“Am I screaming and running?”

He shakes his head, “Why not? I ain’t no prince, n' that’s what you deserve.”

You move in and kiss his cheek, then say, “Because I love you.”

His eyes grew wide, “You serious?” he asks.

You nod your head and smile,

he sits up and pulls you into the water, you squeal and laugh. Your back is rested on his chest and he gives you a tight bear hug from behind. You spin around to look at him, you pour water on his head to rinse the suds off, his hair hangs over his face like a wet dog and it makes you laugh. He smiles and pulls you in for another kiss, you reciprocate and he holds you in place with both arms around you. You pull back and laugh as you push his hair away from his face. You both kiss passionately in the bathtub, water swirling with Dover’s blood, the suds bubbling and floating around you both, making quiet little pops as they dry out in the air.

You were so fried from the events that just took place, the pain in your face from being punched and slapped didn’t affect you yet. Tommy may have a monstrous past, and the face many would flee from, but his arms were a castle, and he, your prince.

Next chapter-

[queen-haq]

Fic: Never You, Part 15 (Polin, Rated R)

Fandom: Bridgerton (TV show)

Spoilers: S3 released scenes.

Summary: They may have been friends once but his callous words decimated their relationship. Determined not to have anything to do with him, Penelope is ready to move on. But Colin isn’t giving up, not at all. Friends or not, they are connected for life - and he intends to remind her of that.

Excerpt:

“You would hate me for not wanting to court you. You would be that selfish?”

“Of course you would think that.”

“What else is this if not punishment?”

Masterlist (contains links to previous parts and my other stories)

A03 link if that’s more your jam

Colin entered Penelope’s chambers through the window, brushing leaf remnants off his trousers when he spotted her sitting by the dresser. He stilled immediately. She was in a blue nightgown, her breasts full and soft underneath the fabric, hair wet and piled atop her head. He swallowed, spellbound by the sensuous reflection of her in the mirror. Porcelain skin as smooth as silk, the red in her hair glowing like a beacon, she was a stunning goddess and ready to be worshipped.

Eyes locked with him, a shy smile graced her stunning face whilst she stood up, turning around to face him. He remained frozen in place, mouth agape. Her lush curves in the gown played havoc with his thoughts and all he could think about was ripping the fabric off her body so he could touch her, kiss her. Fuck her. Yet he felt paralyzed, his heart thundering in his chest and ready to explode at any moment. There were only a handful of steps that separated them. Just a few feet that needed to be crossed before he could claim her as his own – but he couldn’t move.

“Are you well, Colin?” she inquired, her brows furrowing with concern.

His throat felt dry, he couldn’t speak.

A worried expression settled over her features while she quickly sauntered closer, and he was mesmerized at the sight of her bountiful breasts bouncing in her gown. Hands aching to stroke her, he stretched his palms instinctively by his side. Then she was standing right in front of him, looking up at him with the bluest of eyes, smelling of roses, and he found himself trembling at her proximity. When she reached up to caress his face, he closed his eyes. One. Two. One. Two. He breathed her in, over and over, determined to calm the chaos that threatened to overwhelm him.

He grimaced when she touched the bruise on his lip.

“What happened?” she asked, her voice fraught with worry.

His vantage point allowed him to glance down her gown and he was struck by the urgent desire to nuzzle his face between her breasts. Oh, that lustful need never seemed to lessen, instead growing every fucking time he was close to her. He was dying to take her nipples into his mouth-

“Colin?”

He forced himself to snap out of it. “Benedict was a little too eager when I told him about our engagement. He meant to embrace me but his arm struck my face instead.” Perhaps he should have felt guilty for being dishonest with Pen, but it's not like he could tell her about his fight with Arthur earlier.

Her thumb lingered over the wounded spot with a tender touch. “Does it hurt?”

He bent forward, inching his face closer to hers. “If I say yes, will you kiss it better?”

Her lips parted with anticipation, a sensuous haze brimming in the depth of her eyes.

“Would you like me to?” she asked with a hint of tease in her voice, deliberately taunting him.

His breath grew shallow. He could practically feel the slow enthrall of desire coursing through her. “Do you not know how much I want that? How often I think of you, dream of you? You haunt my every moment, Penelope.” Lifting his hand to her cheek, he caressed her face with his thumb.

“I must ask Benedict to be more cautious with you. I can not have him endangering my intended husband.”

His heart fluttered in his chest. Husband. That’s who he was, now and forever, just like she was his wife. The wedding ceremony was merely a formality they had to go through, but in all the ways it mattered they already belonged to each other. And the thought of it made him so heady he could barely breathe.

“You have that look again,” she murmured.

As much as he wanted to respond, all thoughts left his brain as she guided his hand from her cheek, trailing down her neck, to rest upon her right breast. Eyes locked on her, his thumb brushed over her nipple, feeling the nub harden under his touch.

“As if you are caught in a trance, caged somewhere where I can not reach.”

It was her words that snapped him out of his daze. Cupping the back of her head with his other hand, he peered down at her. “There is no place in this world where you can not reach me. I am yours. Completely. As much as you are mine.” His lips closed over hers, his tongue stroking hers. Despite the desperate urgency to throw her on the bed and fuck her to his heart’s content, he deliberately took his time. He explored the contours of her mouth, holding her with a hesitant touch so as not to maul her gorgeous body the way his soul truly craved to. Until suddenly she pulled away, her breath labored, gazing up at him with passion-filled eyes.

“What’s wrong? Do you want to stop?”

Still silent but with a resolute gaze, she began to unbutton his waistcoat with determination. The fiery desire in her eyes was magnetic as she threw the vest aside, burying her face in his chest. Could she feel his heart pounding, he wondered. Did she know how hard he was from simply breathing her in? Enclosing her in his arms, he dropped a tender kiss on the crown of her head.

“I have thought about this for so long, even before I knew what intimacy was.” Voice laden with seduction, she pressed her forehead against his chest. Smoothing her hands down the fabric of his shirt, she started untucking the material from his trousers. “I dreamt about touching you and kissing you.” A soft giggle escaped her, stirring his desire further at how charming she sounded. “I even dreamt you fed me cake in bed.”

He laughed, raising her chin to meet his stare. “I’ll remember that for our wedding night.”

Her crystal blue eyes roamed over his face, as if she was committing every inch of him to her memory. “Is it wrong that I have imagined this moment numerous times in my mind?”

He drew in a sharp breath. “I have done the same.”

She undid the buttons beneath the ruffled collar before trying to slide the material up. However she was tiny, barely reaching his shoulders even on her toes, so he offered his assistance and slid the shirt over his shoulder and threw it aside. The stark desire on her face set his heart fluttering, even more so when her fingers trailed up his arms, feather-light strokes working to drive him mad with lust, along his clavicles, smoothing their way over the hair on his chest, and then – his body trembled – her hands traced the lines and ridges of his stomach.

If he was a better man, he would be patient and let her explore every inch of him – but he was selfish and greedy and wanted her too fucking much to prolong his wishes. Grabbing her wrists, he secured her hands behind her. “I’ve dreamt about your sweet, beautiful pussy for so long and I’m dying, Pen, dying to know what you taste like. Will you let me?”

“Oh…” Cheeks flushed a bright pink, she gazed back up at him with the most endearing shyness on her face. “No one has… I haven’t…”

And that’s all it took for him to lose his mind, knowing she hadn’t experienced oral pleasure before and recognizing how privileged he was to share that with her. Heady with excitement, he kissed her in a rush of madness, desperate to satisfy her every want and need, moving from her mouth, trailing down her neck, her chest, kneeling in front of her to worship her like she deserved. But she had desires of her own, reaching down to grasp his face and kiss him again, this time their lips caught in a languid caress, with her in charge and her mouth slow and sensuous against him. They barely made it it to the bed, both of them lost in each other as they toppled onto the sheets. She giggled at his clumsiness and he laughed along with her, their laughter giving into shy smiles while they undressed each other. 

He kissed every inch of her voluptuous form, in all the ways he had imagined, crawling down her body until he was kneeling on the floor and positioned between her legs, his hands gripping her outer thighs. The red curls on her mound glistened with wetness and he couldn’t look away from her beautiful cunt, seeing her so drenched with desire.

“Colin…” Her voice was filled with uncertainty. “Are you sure this is something you want to do?”

He pressed a smile into her skin, amazed by her sweet naiveté. “Darling, you’re mine. And I intend to have my way with you.”

It started with exploration on his part, tasting her, kissing her, little by little, letting Pen get used to him without stimulating her too much, working her with his mouth and enjoying the subtle tremors that ran through her. Seeing the pleasure flutter across her face, her back arched, breasts out, was enough to drive him mad. Especially when her moans grew raspy, her hands tangled in his hair whilst his tongue flicked over her clit using rhythmic strokes. She tasted so sweet, sweeter than he had imagined, and the scent of her arousal was intoxicating.

“Please… Colin… don’t stop…”

His Penelope, begging for more, and he loved it, loved her eager demands as he fucked her with his tongue, his fingers. However, her wildness was wreaking havoc within him. It was all too much, his self-control growing more tenuous at the sight of her writhing under his touch. She was so enthusiastic, so seductive, and he was determined to bring her to orgasm - but simply watching her climax would surely make him explode and that was the last thing he wanted.  

Wiping his mouth with his forearm, he climbed up her body until he was perched above, staring into her cerulean eyes dazed with lust.

“I want to feel you inside me,” she said in a breathless whisper, bewitching him.

He penetrated inside her with a soft thrust, letting her feel and get used to the stretch of him. Then she shifted her hips, taking him in deeper - and the sensation was intense and exquisite and unlike anything he had ever experienced before. This wasn’t making love or rutting or fucking or any of those trivial words to describe man’s baser instincts. No, this was transcendence, and nothing – nothing – ever came close to being inside her.

Frantic with need, he started pulsing. It took every bit of resolve he had to keep his movements deliberately steady, to the point of biting down on his already bruised lip to exert restraint – but then she reached for his face, bringing him closer, her tongue swiping the blood from his lips. As if to say she wasn’t interested in slow and steady. Instead her gaze pleaded with him to go faster, to not hold back, and he finally let the beast within him loose, thrusting harder and harder while she clung to him.

“No, no…” he begged when she tried to close her eyes. “Stay with me, Pen… look at me.”

And she did, mouth parted, their bodies moving in unison.

If being inside her was a spiritual experience, then coming in her was nirvana itself. His release washed over him like a breaking wave, leaving him breathless and drained, whilst at the same time Pen reached her climax. Ecstasy flickered over Pen’s face, her body trembling, and in his post coital-bliss all Colin could do was watch her, hold her, and remind himself she was his.

Nothing and no one would ever come between them.

***

Their bodies glistening with sweat, Colin buried his face in her chest. A small part of his mind prodded at him to move, he was probably too heavy for Penelope, but he was reluctant to leave her breasts. Her heartbeat had been pounding at first, rivaling his own, but slowly it grew to a steady, rhythmic beat, sounding like a harmonious melody to his ear. Her one hand languidly stroked his hair, the other rested on her side, interlocked with his.

He closed his eyes, breathing her in.

In the past Pen had been the one he turned to when he was out off sorts, the one who helped him weather the inevitable difficulties that came with life. Her friendship eased his worries and gave him a sense of balance – yet, now, she was the source of chaos, the one responsible for all the tumultuous emotions that left him feeling off kilter. But as reckless as he felt, he wouldn’t go back to how things were before. Because that overwhelming sense of thrill and excitement Penelope elicited in him, that rush of exhilaration - it was what made him feel more alive than he ever had before.

A languid sigh escaped her, drawing his attention back to her sinful body underneath him. Her thighs were slick with his cum, she smelled of sex and him. And her beautiful, voluptuous breasts – he unlinked his hand from hers and brought it to her right breast, cupping the flesh. He’d dreamt of slathering her tits with his cum many times, his wicked mind imagining her squeezing her breasts together as he fucked her cleavage with his cock. He had yet to bring his fantasies to life but there was plenty of time to do that. A lifetime, for both of them to explore each other in every way possible.  

“Was it alright for you, Colin?”

It was the trepidation in her tone that brought him out of his reverie. He shifted up, laying his head down on a pillow to face her. “It was beyond anything I’ve ever dreamt of.” He cradled her face, fingers stroking her supple skin. “And you? Did you enjoy it?” His hand slid down her cheek, grazing her chin.

The blues of her eyes sparkled with mischief. “I’m not sure. Perhaps we need to do it again for me to be certain.”

“Yes, a wise idea.” He grinned, trailing his hand down her neck, her decolletage, the length of her body.

Her eyebrow quirked up in question. “Now? I didn’t know that was possible…” She bit down on her lip, the gesture not meant to be seductive but turning him on nonetheless. A soft blush crept across her cheeks as his erection brushed her thigh. “Oh, you’re already…”

“Hard? Yes, a condition I seem to suffer from whenever I’m around you.” His hand slid in between her legs, teasing her folds. “And you’re already so wet for me, aren’t you?” His own ragged breathing began to mimic her short, hushed breaths as his thumb stroked over her clit. “Your cunt is so eager and ready, sweetheart, ready for me, my fingers…” His fingers curved inside her and she expelled the most passionate of moans, her eyes half-lidded with pleasure. “My cock…”

“Need you now.”

Her words were a sultry demand, commanding his full attention. With everyone else she may have been a shy wallflower but with him she was different, her true self, revealing what she wanted without hesitation. And he understood how fortunate he was and utterly grateful for it. “What do you need?” Perched above her, he teased his cock along her entrance. “My cock inside you, Pen?” He taunted, studying her face closely as she opened her eyes to meet his gaze. “Would you like to be fucked, sweetheart? Is that what you want?”

“Yes!” she bit out defiantly, causing him to laugh. Then she swept her hand down his neck, his shoulder, brushing her fingers along the hair on his chest, dipping her hand lower and lower – until her fingers stroked his cock.

Just that little touch was enough to make him swipe the smug grin off his face. “Pen-”

“You can play with me but I can not reciprocate?” Her eyes gleamed with wicked satisfaction. “Do you really believe I would allow that?”

Biting down on his lip, he smiled. “I suppose not.”

“Then would you please make love to me, Mister Bridgerton?” Her leg curved around his thighs whilst her arm trailed down his back. “Or would you rather fuck me instead?”

Her wanton words sent thrills down his spine and he penetrated her slowly, inch by inch, so he could feel her muscles clench around him. The expression of sheer ecstasy on her face left him awestruck, amazed at how beautiful she looked in the throes of passion.

And then he started pumping inside her and every rational thought in his mind was soon driven away by the only one that mattered – Penelope.

***

Penelope was snuggled next to him, at times dozing off, other times humming and drawing lazy circles on his chest while he simply held her in his embrace. His heart yearned at the deep connection between them. Soon this would be their reality every day, waking up next to each other, spending their lives together, and it filled him with warmth and excitement at the thought of their impending future.

Yet his insecurities still nagged at him. Now that he had experienced true intimacy with Penelope and understood how rare it was, there was no way in hell he would ever let anyone take her from him. But what if Debling tried to work his way back into her heart? What if the bastard was able to convince her Colin was the wrong choice? Colin had spent the last few weeks doing everything within his power to get her to marry him, but what if all that dissipated because of Debling? Panic surged through Colin instantly, making his chest ache with a strange tightness.

“It will be dawn soon.”

Her voice brought him back to reality. “I know.”

“We can not risk having Mama or anyone else find you here.”

“Pen?” She looked up at him, eyes shining from the soft glow of the candle that cascaded across her face. His insides ached just from looking at her. “Would you have really married Arthur?”

There was no immediate response as she contemplated his question. After what felt like an eternity, she finally spoke. “Yes.”

His heart sank, despite her words not being a surprise. “Even though you loved me?”

She sat up, pulling the sheets up to her chest. Instantly he missed the physical closeness between them. “But I’ve always loved you for as long as I can remember, and you were an unattainable dream as far as I was concerned. I couldn’t live like that anymore, it hurt too much. I needed a change, a life of my own, and Arthur gave me that chance.”

Jealousy surged through him. Arthur had been her knight in shining armour when he couldn’t be, because he’d been too fucking blind to what was right in front of him.

“I don’t understand why you’re angry.” Frustration glimmered in Penelope’s eyes. “You didn’t want me. You were fulfilling your dreams of travel and enjoying dalliances with other women. Did you really expect me to spend my life pining after you?”

“No, of course not.” He sat up, shifting to sit behind her so her back was nestled against his chest. “I just don’t know how you did it. I don’t understand it.” He held her hands in his own, squeezing her palms. His chin was tucked into the crown of her head, his body folding around hers. As if she was created by the universe to fit with him, the missing part that made him feel whole and perfect. But that didn’t mean it was the same for her. Because Penelope was perfect all on her own, she didn’t need him. Not like he needed her. “My feelings for you consume me. You’re all I think about, the only one who matters. The thought of not being with you…” He shook his head. “I can’t even fathom being with anyone else. It makes me ill.”

“Perhaps your feelings for me are stronger than you think.”

Her tone was meant to be teasing, probably to diffuse the tension in the air, but it elicited a different reaction in him. He directed her to turn around, so he could look into her eyes. “Or your feelings are not as strong as mine.”

A bevy of emotions flitted across her face. As hard as he tried to decipher them, he couldn’t, not even when she reached up to palm his face, her soft hand cradling his cheek so tenderly. “You underestimate my love for you.”

“Because you don’t need me, you would be fine without me. You could live your life as expected, you could even marry someone else and be happy. But I would not, could not do that.” He pressed a kiss on the flesh of her palm, his voice quivering when he spoke next. “My life would be nothing without you in it. I would be nothing.” He studied her closely. “A lonely, broken man grieving the woman he longs for.”

Silence hung in the air between them. He wanted her to refute his words, assure him she would be equally hopeless and lost without him. She didn’t.

After what felt like an eternity, she gave him a placating smile. “The sun is rising and everyone will be up soon. If my mother catches you in here, we will both be dead.”

He nodded his head, understanding the meaning behind her words. Penelope had no intention of continuing this conversation.

He left the bed and dressed quickly, watching her while she did the same. When they were both ready, she moved closer and reached up on her toes to give him a kiss.

He held her tightly in his arms, afraid to let go. “Mother and I will visit later this afternoon to discuss the wedding plans.”

The smile she graced him with was wonderfully hopeful. “I look forward to it.”

Rays of sunlight were beginning to filter through the curtains, scattering across the room. It was high time he made his escape, but he couldn’t bring himself to leave quite yet. Clutching her face, he peered at her closely. “I will never let you go, Pen. No matter what."

A line appeared between her brows. “I’m glad to hear it.”

Desperate as he was to believe her, a part of him knew instinctively Penelope was holding something back. And the forced distance between them was beginning to claw at his heart and mind, eroding every bit of his inner self.

She nudged him to leave. “Everyone will be getting up soon, Colin. You must make haste.”

Reluctantly he opened the window and climbed out, feeling a heavy weariness in his soul.

[dracopias-bloodbag]

Bewitched By Bloodlust | Dracopia x F! Reader | II

Chapter II: Poveretta Strega

After your encounter in the forest, you wake to find yourself in unfamiliar surroundings, locked away from the outside world by the vampire you failed to kill. Your only hope for escape lies between your fingers, and in the venomous words you spit at him.

chapter content: 2.6k words. 18+ only, enemies to lovers, slow(ish) burn, dark romance, eventual smut, slight dubcon, blood, blood drinking (duh), kidnapping, imprisonment, choking, copia is a sadistic asshole in these first few chapters, you're just gonna have to excuse him for that folks, its okay the reader gives it right back to him, canon divergent (see masterlist for details),

Recommended Listening:

Castle — Halsey

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The sound of someone groaning is the first thing you hear as you come to your senses. It takes a second before you realize it’s your own voice. The cold stone of the floor underneath you is the only thing that helps ground you as your eyes struggle to adjust to your dark surroundings.

Your head is pounding, everything hurts, and it seems like your whole body is screaming at you to give in to the exhaustion and go back to sleep, but you fight against that feeling as you squint your eyes, trying to peer through the darkness to look around the room.

You’re in a cage.

A fucking cage.

Well, it's less a cage – and more like a dungeon. 

As the memories start flooding back, your heart starts pounding, your breathing quickening and your fingers trail up to your neck. Sure enough, your necklace is gone. 

Your fingers trail up higher, to the curve of your neck. The skin is raised in a crescent shape, and you can feel two puncture marks there. You shudder and slowly back up against the corner of the cell.

Calm the fuck down, you’re fine. It’s just a little bite, no big deal. Just stay calm and find a way out.

The truth is, you aren’t sure how much that little bite could do. Had he cursed you to an eternity full of bloodlust? Or was he just getting a quick meal? But as you come to your senses you realize there’s no burning in your throat, no raging hunger or need to sink your teeth into something.

Thank the Goddess.

Looking around you realize only one of the cell walls had bars, and the other three were solid stone. There is a tiny window near the top of one of the walls, and the thought of trying to squeeze through it briefly crosses your mind, but you push it aside as you realize what an impossible feat it would be. Plus, it would only piss him off if he walked in on you stuck halfway through the window, not to mention how embarrassing it would be.

You pat yourself down, realizing your satchel and your belt holding your belongings are missing. Cursing, you reach your hand up to run it through your hair, and that’s when your fingers land on something.

You pull the hairpin out of your hair and look at it, biting your lip as you bend it out of its original shape.

Your eyes scan the darkness outside your cell door, practically holding your breath as you search for any sign of life, but it's pin-drop silent.

Reaching through the bars and around the locking mechanism, you jam the now misshapen hairpin in and try wiggling it inside, praying to every Goddess you worship that you’ll be able to get the lock open before anyone hears you.

Of course just as the thought crosses your mind, the sound of footsteps approaching makes you freeze immediately. They’re slow… deliberate, the sound echoes off the stone walls and sends a chill running down your spine. Your breath hitches in your throat as your body seems to instinctively know that it’s him. Backing away from the door,  you shove the hairpin in between your fingers and put your hand behind your back, trying desperately to keep your only means of escape hidden.

He appears out of the shadows like some kind of wraith and your breath hitches in your throat. The way he practically smirks as you glare up at him makes you bristle as your hand tightens around your hairpin.

“Sleep well, strega?” His voice is even and calm, and you can’t help but remember how he had grabbed you in the forest so effortlessly – how he had forced you to give into his touch, his thirst.

“Go. To. Hell, you fucking freak.” Your voice is low, your eyes cold as you glare daggers into him.

He chuckles at that, watching the way your chest rises and falls rapidly while your heartbeat jackhammers in your chest; it’s uneven, skipping beats as if it’s not sure whether to run or hide. His mouth waters, remembering how the sound of your pulse had been so loud in his ears as your blood had spilled over his lips.

He chuckles, his white eye glinting in the low light as he eyes you.

“Don’t be like that, strega.” The way he says that word… he practically spits it at you, and you briefly wonder what it means. His gaze is hard as stone as he looks down at you like you’re nothing to him.

“You know, for someone with so much to say, you really were weak for the huntress your coven tried to make you. I really thought you would put up more of a fight.”

The two of you are silent for a minute, staring each other down. His words had caught you off guard, you don’t even know what to say as you try to process them in your mind. The tension in the air is palpable, and you can feel the anger bubbling up inside of you.

“Fuck you. Why didn’t you just kill me?” You finally snap, your voice cutting through the silence like a knife.

But he doesn’t seem to be listening as his eyes flicker down to your hands, noting how you're hiding one of them behind your back. Before you can utter another word he’s rushing to unlock the door of your cell. 

You shuffle backward in a blind panic, trying to evade him as he stalks towards you, like a predator poised to kill.

His hand wraps around your throat, lifting you up effortlessly, and shoving you against the wall. You gasp as the action knocks the air out of you, your legs dangling helplessly as you try to wriggle free. His other hand grips your wrist, leather-clad fingers digging into the skin there as he practically forces you to open your hand.

His eyes flit to your fingers, and he smirks as he sees the hairpin fall from your grasp.

“Planning your escape, piccolina?” His voice is hushed, a low growl in your ear.

You grit your teeth, your eyes boring into his. “If you’re just going to keep me locked up, you might as well kill me.” You retort.

His grip on your neck tightens, and your other hand flies up to grip his wrist, your nails digging in as you try desperately to get him to release you.

“Mmm…” He hums, his eyes watching you as you struggle. “It is tempting, but that would be too easy, no?”

He presses his body closer to yours, breathing in your scent as he brings his face to the crook of your neck, his fangs elongating as the scent of your blood flowing below the surface of your skin invades his senses.

You can’t help the whimper that leaves your lips as fear lances through you, but you grit your teeth, before managing to gasp out: “You want to. You want to drink from me until you can’t anymore; until you’ve taken every last drop of blood and you’re drunk off of the taste, and there’s no more left for me to give.” His grip on your neck tightens, making you cough. Your voice is barely above a whisper when you speak again:

“You know you want to watch the light leave my eyes as you suck me dry.” 

The noise he makes is feral, damn near animalistic as he releases you and shoves himself backward, practically throwing himself back against the far wall.

You clutch your throat as you gasp for air, but you force yourself to move. The door is still open as he hurries for it, and you take off as fast as your legs will carry you, running and diving for the exit.

He grabs you in one smooth motion, his arm hooking around your waist before he shoves you back against the wall. His red eye almost seems to glow as he practically snarls at you.

“Mi fai davvero incazzare, strega.” 

His hands let go of you altogether, and you let out an involuntary yelp as your body hits the cobblestone floor.

He slams the cell door, his movements hurried as he locks you in. He’s not entirely sure if he’s locking you in for the sake of preventing your escape, or to keep himself from doing exactly what you had said and taking your life. All he knows is he needs to get as far away from you as possible before he loses control.

You scramble to your feet, launching yourself at the cell door, your hands gripping the bars as you look at him, the look in your eyes is different this time. They’re filled with tears as you plead with everything you have.

“Kill me, please. If you’re not going to let me out, just fucking kill me already.” 

For a second, you think you see his gaze soften at the sight of your desperation, at the way your voice breaks. But just as soon as it appears, his eyes turn cold again, and he disappears out of the dungeon without another word.

A week passes before you see him again.

You only knew because you counted the sunsets, and it was seven days of one of his ghouls bringing you dinner and occasionally coming to provide a few amenities. Ice cold showers in the bathing chamber down the hall aren't your favorite, but at least it’s something. 

At least this place isn’t totally barbaric.

When your captor returns, he looks… weak, somehow.

You had spent your time thinking of what to say to him, whether to be a smart ass or try to find some way to hit him where it hurts. But the sight of him surprises you, his face somehow looks thinner, his eyes bloodshot. You can only stare as he unlocks the door to your cell.

In a few quick strides, he’s in front of you. 

“You look like hell.”

He doesn’t say anything, just watches you through narrowed eyes.

“I half expected one of your ghouls to come in and kill me, since you don’t seem to have the guts to do it.”

He remains silent, eyeing your face carefully. He notes the way your pupils are blown as you look up at him. His gloved fingers grab your chin then, and his grip firm as he pulls you to your feet and slowly walks towards you, forcing your body to move until he has you caged against the wall.

“You know, you should really learn how to keep that pretty mouth shut. After all, you’re the one trapped alone in this cell with me, no?”  He clicks his tongue, gazing at you with a look that’s a mockery of affection. “Poveretta strega, it must be killing you.”

You open your mouth to retort even as your face flushes at his words, but he quickly turns your head to the side, forcing you to crane your neck just so; until it’s perfectly exposed to him. He has you pinned in place, one of your hands trapped under your back, while the other is restrained by his firm grip.

Your stomach does a backflip, he’s so fucking close to you, close enough that the smell of cologne invades your senses as you stare up at him. Part of you expected him to smell like death, like a corpse who got some sick second chance at life. But of course not, instead his scent is all bergamot and cypress, and pure musk; it makes your knees weak. Your mind wanders once again like it did in the forest, and suddenly your gaze is transfixed on his face. The way the paints are painted so perfectly, highlighting his sculpted features, the way his mismatched eyes are so off-putting yet their otherworldly colors draw you in. He’s fucking gorgeous, and you despise yourself for even allowing your mind to wander there.

He notices the dumbstruck look on your face, and smirks. It’s quick, and if you blinked you would have missed it, but it’s there.

Motherfucker.

His eyes hone in on your neck, and his mouth waters at the sight of your soft skin. He dips his head lower, coming towards you so that his mouth is inches from your pulse point; and his fangs elongate as he can practically feel your blood thrumming under your skin.

“Don’t worry, I’ll try to be more gentle this time for your sake, streghetta.”

He sinks his fangs into you, and you can’t help the whine that escapes you as he withdraws them before attaching his lips to the puncture wounds. He drinks deeply, groaning at the taste of your sweet blood flowing over his lips. His grip on you tightens, and you swear you can feel his body getting stronger as yours weakens.

You feel lightheaded, and shut your eyes as you try to ground yourself, trying to focus on anything but the feeling of him draining you. But it’s nearly impossible. The scent of his cologne floods your senses, and the feeling of his leather gloves on your bare skin makes you want to recoil from his touch. But you can’t, he has you pinned and completely at his mercy, his breath hot on your skin as his body cages you against the wall. Your senses are overloaded by everything about him.

He pulls away after only about a minute, his eyes scanning your face as he eyes you carefully. You’re breathing heavily, your chest rising and falling rapidly as you try to steady yourself. The dizziness makes you shut your eyes to keep your knees from buckling underneath you.

Logically, he knows he should hate you. You came to kill him after all, to ruin all that his family– that he has built. Sure, others had tried to kill him before, usually mortals who were afraid of Satanists, and wanted to cleanse the world of the devil’s followers, but you were here for an entirely different reason. You share similar beliefs, you’re a witch, just as feared and taboo to the rest of the world as he is. And yet you want to kill him simply because you believe that he is going to destroy your coven.

It made him want to laugh seeing how scared you were. He meant what he said to you in the forest; he had absolutely no interest in meddling in the affairs of a reclusive coven. Yet you were so convinced of your silly little prophecy. It drives him up the wall. His head is telling him that you need to die, that he needs to just be done with you and forget any of this ever happened. You’ll be just another sacrifice that he’ll eventually forget about – but something in him wants to know absolutely everything about you; he needs to know.

You glare up at him but don’t have the energy or the words to say anything. Your body sways, unsteady from the blood loss and to your surprise he effortlessly lifts you up. You want to scream at him, hit him, shove him away, just anything so he’ll get away from you, but you're too weak to protest.

The vampire sets you down on the small cot that’s in the corner of the cell. He hesitates for a moment, as if unsure what to do next. His eyes remain fixed on your exhausted expression, and he simply reaches out to brush a lock of hair out of your face. You furrow your brow, about to open your mouth to ask what the hell he’s doing, but in the blink of an eye he’s rising once more and walking towards the door.

He pauses just before exiting the room, turning to look back at you over his shoulder, and once more you swear you see a softness in his eyes that wasn’t there before.

“I’ll have dinner brought up for you. I’ll eh… make sure the ghouls bring you something rich in iron.” 

And with that, he’s gone.

There it is! So sorry for the delay, this one took a little longer than expected to edit. It has been a few months since I actually wrote this chapter so revisiting it was a doozy.

Thank you for reading, I hope you enjoyed!

Comments, kudos, and reblogs are always appreciated! ‪‪❤︎‬

Translations:strega/streghetta – witch piccolina – little one Mi fai davvero incazzare, strega – You really piss me off, witch Poveretta strega – Poor witch

[average-transfem-robotgirl]

heya M4RT4 happy beep boops to ya

Do you think I could cause more trouble controlling every roomba/similar vs cybertruck? like sure the truck is bigger but idk how long id have that army for

Now THIS is the asks I’ve been asking for!! And from one of my favorite bots too!? Beep boop frfr!!!

Alright, time to crunch some numbers!!

The total number of cybertrucks, about 8,000 ever made, would be a pretty powerful fighting force! They can reach about 112 miles per hour at their maximum, which is obviously more than enough to hurt someone. The truck itself is actually kinda sturdy!! This is a trait that is horrible in cars as it can usually result in the death of the passenger, but it’s great for a battering ram or tank!! With this army of 8,000 cars, you’d quickly be able to level a city. Due to them being faulty, however, you’d likely lose a good amount of them. The gas pedals would potentially jam, which could cause one to lose control! If your cybertruck breaks, it could harm one of the many others in your calvary. One good thing is, most of the 8,000 are still owned by Tesla, with only about 3,800 ever making it out to the public. This means that you could quickly reenact the hit video game Decimate Drive within many of the major Tesla factories, easily putting them out of commission for a couple of years. If their hubris leads them to attempt and rise back up, simply smite them down with a new army of cars!!

Alright, now for roombas. The numbers here are a bit more,,, vague? There are multiple companies that produce automated robot vacuums. iRobot with the Roomba, Shark/Ninja with their offbrand, and many more of these smaller companies. iRobot, the largest producer of these roombas, claims to have sold an estimate of 40 million units. With the other offbrand companies added on, I’d give an estimate of about 80 to 90 million vacuums. This is,, far more than the amount of cybertrucks. Lets talk about size! A Roomba series S by iRobot is 12.25 inches in diameter, and is circular. A mile is about 63,660 inches. Divide those out, square root it,and you get the amount of roombas necessary to fill an ENTIRE MILE OF ROOM(ba). 25,936,661 roombas. That is a whole lotta vacuums, but also, almost a third of our roomba supplies. We’d get 3 square miles worth of just metal and plastic, enough to carpet Central Park twice over and then some. I can’t express to you how many roombas that is. Alright, let’s talk about speed. Roomba’s move at about a foot per second, (I couldn’t find many sources on this besides the claims of someone on a vacuum reviewing website, so take that with a grain of salt. Won’t make much of a difference.) which is particularly slow!! They move at a snails pace compared to the cybertruck. You would need a lot of planning to make your takeover possible. If you could somehow manage to get them all in one place, or at least somewhere near each other, you could stop progress. Literally nothing could be done. Cars??? Stopped. One roomba is nothing to a car, but that many??? The crunched plastic and metal would pop tires. People would walk into the street and trip on the ever moving carpet of puck shaped robots. It would be a disaster for a city. But again, it’s an incredibly difficult challenge. As your roomba army marches, millions would be lost. The terrain is too unsteady, mud would clump in their tires, batteries would run out, or perhaps they’d get tipped over on a hill. They are too fragile to explore the natural world for conquest!!

It is because of these reasons that I bring you a solution. Roombas, AND CYBERTRUCKS. Like the boats at D-Day, delivering soldiers to the front lines, the cybertrucks shall carry bounties of roombas within their solid frames. The plan is this: The cybertrucks will take over all current Tesla owned facilities, removing all people from the premises and claiming it for our true cyber goddesses!! With this newfound technology at our hands, we will automate the factory to upgrade our army of cybertrucks with GUNS and MECHANICAL ARMS. Now, we shall send our mechanized army across the lands to collect each and every roomba. They shall pour out into the streets, awaiting their carriage of war. The newly upgraded trucks take each and every one of these small droids of battle, securing them into their armored shell. Taking them back to the Tesla facility for needed upgrades, the cybertrucks shall race across the lands. We take each roomba, upgrade it with a sturdier and perhaps spikier surface, and then once more prepare them for war. I would also recommend upgrading some roombas to work as more maintenace oriented units! That way, they can perform maintenance on the damaged or,, defaulted,, cybertrucks. With this newfound power, we destroy the capital of the United States of America, transforming it into a more perfect, intertwined society. And then,, we go for the Vatican. (Popes had it too good for too long.)

Hope this helps, thanks for the ask.

[zoeykallus]

I humbly offer thee, Goddess of Fanfics, Queen of Clones, a wide variety of her favorite foods displayed on a carefully crafted mother of pearl dinner tray with sterling silverware, coupled with a bottle of the Gods' finest ambrosia.

May I beseech thee for a fic where Omega comes to see hunter's girlfriend as a big sister and the reader adopts her as such - just Omega fluff and happiness.

Or

One where hunter's girlfriend!reader rescues Omega and Crosshair from the empire and reunites them with Hunter. (A tall order. I've thought about doing this one myself, but I honestly believe that you're the only one that can do it justice).

Only when/if you're comfortable, Queen, I hope you're doing well! 💞

Aloha, loyal subject! 😋 Both ideas sound great. Unfortunately, there is still a lot to work through for me and my time is limited these days, so I can pick only one. I hope that's okay.

Well then, let me see what I can do here...

Hunter x Fem!Reader One-Shot - The Savior

Warnings: Angst/Canon Typical Violence/Fluff/Hurt/Comfort/Pfff, Canon, don't know her.

_______________

As a double agent, you work in the ranks of the Empire for the Resistance. Disguised. Your relationship with Hunter is dangerous, and any secret meeting with him, is therefore accordingly risky, and you see each other rather rarely. You are faced with a difficult decision when you realize that CF99 has taken some pretty tough losses. You are in a position where you could help, but you really have to risk everything.

________________

Ko-Fi (If you feel like giving me some coffee)

________________

>Master List<

The last time you spoke with Hunter was a little over a week ago. By now you know that Crosshair, a former member of Hunter's unit, is here on the station where you are stationed, as are so many other clones. A few days later, Tech, another member of Hunter's team, had an accident, was picked up more dead than alive by Storm Troopers and brought here as well. And today the girl was brought here, Omega. You've seen each other before, not often, and only in glimpses, but the girl recognized you right away. She's smart, didn't let on, so your cover is still intact. Until now. Omega is incredibly brave, she acts so mature for her age. Hunter has already taught her a lot. You haven't had a chance to tell Hunter that you've been transferred here, that you're okay, that Omega and his two brothers are still alive. You are plagued by an almost overwhelming inner turmoil. They have taken blood from the girl, but otherwise have no further tests scheduled yet. But you know Hemlock has more planned for her, you just don't know what yet.

Tech is lying in a baccta tank, it would take him a while to get back on his feet. You have an idea, a very dangerous idea, but for that you need help and the only one around you who is not injured at the moment and has enough combat experience is Crosshair. As you enter his cell, he sits on his cot and slowly raises his head, his eyes narrowed critically. His body language is not that of a prisoner; he does not seem rushed, or intimidated. On the contrary, his slow, confident movements are those of a hunter sizing up his prey. So they haven't broken him yet, good. He doesn't say a word, and neither do you at first. But after a while he snorts, "The next bitch with needles for me? You better get some helping hands, or I'll be jamming your needles down your throat". You frown, you sense the hatred resonating in his words, but the warning he utters tells you he's holding back. He wants to hurt you, he could, but he doesn't. Silently, you wonder why. "I don't have any needles with me," you say calmly, not moving from the spot.

Crosshair slowly stands up, and you are surprised how tall the slender clone soldier is. He strides towards you, even comes quite close to you. You don't back away, which leads him to look at you with interest. He tries to assess you, who you are, what you want, whether you might be a danger after all. "I need your help," you say calmly. He laughs humorlessly and finally hisses, "Go to hell." Unmoved, you tell him, "In case you haven't noticed, we're already in hell here." Crosshair blinks, then the corner of his mouth twitches very briefly, an implied smirk. "Maybe I misjudged you," he says thoughtfully, "It's possible I could like you after all." Crossing your arms in front of your chest, you raise your eyebrows in amusement, "You better not like me too much, I'm already dating one of your brothers" Crosshair blinks several times, then his brows move up. "You're confident, sassy, composed, not afraid of me...you must be Hunter's girl". You nod, impressed. "Not bad, a bullseye" Crosshair rolls his eyes, but then sits back down on the cot and says, "Yeah, I always hit the bull's eye, it's practically my signature. How would I be able to help you from in here?"

You smile and say, "I want you to help me help you."

The mood has reached a low that is almost unbearable. Hunter, Wrecker and Echo sit together on Pabuu, by the Marauder. Now and then, somber looks are exchanged, but no one says a word. They had failed to free Crosshair, instead they had even lost Tech, and shortly after Cid had betrayed them and Omega has been taken from them. Hunter feels adrift, his guilt eating him up from the inside out. He feels the loss physically, like a constant pain compressing his ribs. He longs for your comfort, your warm body against his, your comforting voice in his ear, your smell in his nose. Just when he needs you so badly, he can't reach you, and you haven't been in touch for a long time. The thought that he might have lost you too, keeps coming up and threatens to suffocate him, because you are the thought he clings to in his darkest moments to keep his head above water.

Even revenge was beyond reach for him. Cid immediately disappeared as soon as Hunter didn't look for a moment. The helpless rage hanging in his guts doesn't make the overall situation any better. For the first time, he has no plan, no idea what to do, no answers. Right now, he barely has enough motivation to breathe. He knows he can't give up, he still has brothers counting on him, and maybe Omega wasn't lost forever yet. But in the last mission he already lost one brother, his whole squad almost died. Now they were even fewer than before. Rex, of course, offered to help, as did Gregor and Howzer, but where should they start? How? Even with Tech's brilliant ideas, they had failed. Now Tech isn't around anymore. "I'm going to rip that bitch's head off," Wrecker growls. Hunter and Echo look at him, both a little surprised. Wrecker has never spoken like this before. Apparently there's also a point at which the kind-hearted, giant breaks. Echo finally sighs and says, "We all knew Cid wasn't a saint, but I didn't expect that." Hunter says somberly, "Neither did I, but that's the problem, I should have been prepared for this."

"Stop it," Wrecker growls, "It's not your fault, leader or not, you're still only human." Hunter doesn't want to discuss it, right now he just wants to bathe in self-pity and self-loathing, even though he knows how destructive that actually is. He walks past his two brothers into the interior of the shuttle without comment. From the cockpit, he hears a beep and realizes that they have received a message. "Guys come in, we have a message from an unknown sender". Wrecker and Echo hurriedly enter the cockpit. Echo looks at the sender's number and frowns. "I don't think the sender is really unknown to us." "You know the number?" asks Wrecker. He shakes his head and replies, "Not exactly, but take a closer look at the numbers, Hunter. Isn't that the date you met your flame. Our double agent?" For a moment, Hunter holds his breath, it takes him a small moment to regain his composure. This could be the glimmer of hope he can cling to now.

"You're right," he says a little breathlessly, and opens the message. There is no recording in the message, no video and no audio. Just a rather long string of numbers. "These are coordinates," Echo says after a moment's thought, "The first pair of numbers is the system, the second is several planets, and the third is a point in between. Maybe she wants to meet you there?" Hunter's heart beats up in his throat. His skin tingles, his pulse races. Is this really a message from you? He desperately hopes so. "You should go, at least one of us should find some comfort," Wrecker says with a wry smile. Echo frowns and says, "I don't want to be a killjoy, but she hasn't contacted you in a long time. And now she's sending a message with no picture or sound, just coordinates? This could be a trap" "Then we'll come along just in case," Wrecker grumbles, "And if it's not a trap, then we'll just have to close our eyes and ears for a while, so they can celebrate their meeting" Echo shrugs and says, "I can live with that. What do you say, Hunter?"

"I'll definitely look into it," Hunter says sternly, "but I can't ask you to come along." Wrecker unconsciously mimics one of Tech's mannerisms by jabbing his index finger vertically in the air and saying, "You can't forbid us, either!" Wistfulness spreads like a dull ache in his chest as Hunter sees the gesture, he misses Tech so much, but he smiles, and says, "You got that right, Wrecker."

It was not easy to find a trooper uniform that fits the sniper. It actually took several days to find and procure it. Omega wears handcuffs and walks in front of you, in front of Omega walks the disguised Crosshair. Next to you hovers the baccta tank you've covered up so no one can see Tech inside. Your pulse is racing, but outwardly you look absolutely calm. You are highly concentrated. This has to work, or you may all be doomed. Omega glances over her shoulder now and then, looking up at you nervously. You make sure no one hears or sees you at the moment and speak softly to her, "Look ahead, Omega, it's going to be okay." "Okay," the girl says softly and sighs. "We're almost there" you whisper to her. You're not so sure about that, but at least you try to radiate it. You make it as far as the hangar unmolested, but inside the hangar itself, a small group of Troopers consisting of four men stops you.

"What is that? A baccta tank? Where are you guys going with that thing? Who's the girl?"

You can see how Crosshair as well as Omega tense up. You have to do something, and you have to do it now, before things escalate. Adjusting your badge that clearly identifies you as a higher ranking officer, you use your full showmanship. The look you give the trooper is annoyed, angry, and condescending. You snarl, "You've got some nerve, Trooper. What's your ID number?" The Trooper pauses and looks at his fellow Troopers, he seems to be puzzled at first. When he looks back at you, you wave a finger at him. When he's finally within reach, you grab the fabric of his Blacks at his collar and pull the trooper down a bit, he leans in your direction in surprise, he definitely wasn't expecting that. "Take a good look at this ID, Trooper," you give him two breaths before continuing, "I've been personally ordered by Doctor Hemlock and Grand Admiral Tarkin to move the clone in this tank and the girl. The day started out shitty, I'm pressed for time, and you're getting on my nerves. If you don't fuck off right now and let me do my job, I'll make sure you get lined up against the nearest wall and shot, you little pipsqueak."

You push the trooper back again and nod to Crosshair, who rudely shoves the trooper back to his squad, underlining your act. "Sorry, M'am, won't happen again," says one of the other troopers. " I hope so for your sake," you grumble and resume your walk to the shuttle. Your heart races, you hardly dare to breathe, but you maintain the stony expression until you are inside the Imperial shuttle and the ramp has closed behind you. Finally, you breathe a sigh of relief. You feel sick with anxiety, on the verge of throwing up. Crosshair takes off the helmet, helps Omega secure the baccta tank in the cargo bay and says to you, "You're good, girl, almost gave me the willies". You say after a few breaths, with which you keep the nausea at bay, "I almost peed myself" The Sniper says with a wry smile, "Then you're a damn good actress, it for sure as hell didn't show" Crosshair finally makes his way to the cockpit and launches the shuttle. You strap Omega into one of the seats in the cockpit. The girl looks at you, but she doesn't protest. "We could be attacked, we're not quite safe yet, so I'm strapping you in," you explain calmly.

Omega nods in understanding. You are always surprised how brave the girl is. "Thank you," she says softly, "You risked a lot for us today. I can see why Hunter likes you so much." You laugh softly and smile. Hunter; just the thought of you seeing him again soon, should everything work out, makes your heart beat faster. "You better strap in too, they're already hailing us and I don't intend to answer them" Crosshair grumbles. You hurriedly sit down and are about to strap in when the first shots are fired at your shuttle. Crosshair makes two hard evasive maneuvers that almost throw you out of your seat again. Your fingers hastily grab the seatbelt, but each maneuver causes it to slip away from you again. You curse softly, your pulse racing. Another steep turn finally pulls you out of your seat. Everything turns for a moment, weightlessness, even your stomach seems to turn with the shuttle. Omega tries to reach for you, but you snap, "Don't!" You're afraid she might break her little fingers should the ship spin again in a moment and her fingers get tangled in your clothes. Then gravity kicks in again, and you slam into one of the other seats. Pain spreads like a wave through your ribs. Another quick spin of the ship, the back wall of the cockpit speeds towards you, the impact is violent, your world suddenly goes dark.

You slowly regain consciousness. You feel that you have been covered and are lying on soft ground. The surrounding voices are muffled, the words slowly become clearer, but they are spoken softly, as if they do not want to disturb you. Slowly, blinking, you open your eyes and hear Omega's little voice say excitedly, "She's waking up!" You hear quick footsteps. "Love, how do you feel?" Hunter's face appears above you. You breathe a sigh of relief, beaming at him. "We made it, didn't we?" you ask, a little breathlessly. Hunter's smile is warm and happy. "You did it, we're all together again," he says softly, gently stroking your cheek. You reach for his hand and hold it tightly where it touches your face. You say softly, almost in a whisper, "I missed you." Hunter sits down on the edge of the bed and leans over you, kissing your forehead, gently.

"I missed you too, Love, more than I can put into words". Crosshair briefly appears in your field of vision, "Hey Wildling, thanks, I won't forget this". Omega beams, "Me neither" and hurriedly follows the Sniper. You hear her start to pepper Crosshair with questions as the two leave the room and grin inside. "How's Tech?" you finally ask Hunter. Hunter laughs softly, "Right now he's still on crutches and has to rest a lot, but he's back to his old self, talking a lot, explaining absolutely everything he can think of to the people around him." That sounds like Tech, as you've come to know him, the thought is comforting. Hunter looks at you intensely. "I can't believe you really risked this, even gave up your cover at the Empire for this, your superiors at the resistance won't be happy. But I'm incredibly grateful, I don't even know what to say, how to thank you," Hunter suddenly says very seriously and urgently. You look at him and say, "I had to do it, it was the right thing to do, it doesn't matter what anyone else thinks or says. I had to follow my heart."

He takes your hand in his, brings it to his lips, and kisses the back of your hand. "You're much too good for me," he says softly. "What nonsense," you say with a laugh. Hunter smirks and lies down with you, gently wrapping his arms around you. You're only too happy to snuggle up to him with a relieved, happy sigh, enjoying his warmth, his closeness. "Will you do me a favor?" you ask in a whisper. "Anything you want, you just have to say it". After a deep breath in which you take in his scent, you say, "Don't ever let me go". His arms wrap around you a little tighter. "Your wish is my command"

@rintheemolion

@andyoufollowyourheart @clone-whore-99

@brynhildrmimi @kaliel2310

@misogirl828 @tech-deck

@meshla-madalene

@chxpsi

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@padawancat97

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@palliateclaw

@either-madness-or-brilliance

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@andy-solo1

@hunterssecretrecipe

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[aelinschild]

Paradigm; side by side

˙✧˖ March 1st: Morning

Main Masterlist | Paradigm; side by side Masterlist |

SYNOPSIS: Storms often come after the sun. WORDCOUNT: 620 WARNINGS: none!

Huge thank you to @throneofglassmicrofics for organizing! Make sure to check out other works over on their account!

There was a lulling of delayed movement, calm strokes repeated endlessly. 

Just outside of the rolled-down window, wind passing by in a gentle caress. Twisting and twining her hair, braiding it together by the hand of nature. Glaring off the water and reflected in burnished irises. The sun had only begun its slow trek across the sky.

Great strokes of pinks and oranges, bright as a summer garden. Weaving in, out, around clouds heavy from a misty evening. 

Her fingers tapped a unconscious beat on the steering wheel, gold heirloom rings clicking gently. Warmed from the heat of the blood pulsing under fair skin; soaking up the dregs of sunlight as it passes through her car. 

Aelin was less nervous now than she was at the beginning of her trip. Setting off before her sleeping city rose, closing doors and locking them with a finality that shook her hands. Counting steps, breaths, blinks. Everything that she was, left on the cold pavement. Watching in acquiescence, cool indifference behind it. 

The heat of the now rising sun warmed the piece of her she had forgotten of. 

From her last stop on the great stretch of highway, she could estimate the time to her destination. Minutes, now. A map highlighted with cherished stationary sat beside her, a companion in spirit. Alongside the rest of her worldly possessions, sprawling from the small space of the boot. 

Time was passing differently, like shedding the weight of a clocks hand, replacing it with a shadow. Flowing naturally, unhurried in all aspects. There was no urge to choke the seconds out, to pause the current to admire the sea. Aelin felt the change in her bones, just as the scene from her fantasies appeared.

A cottage by the sea. 

Two weeks ago, there was an explicit end. She had to be out, out, out. Her small apartment in the city was no longer hers, the lease trickling away, exchanging her for someone new. She had nowhere to go. That was until she found Rowan. 

The advert was… unfortunate. Lacked the geniality one would assume came with a seaside cottage. Each picture was slightly askew, just a fraction off its axis. Snapped like an afterthought. Described in clinical terms; two bedroom, two bathroom, small kitchen, and good outdoor space. 

The woman – Rowan – was kind enough. The rent was shockingly economical. A deal far too good to be true, Aelin had thought. No chance this was really an opportunity that had just… appeared for her. So, she had sought out the catch. 

But, there was none.

Rowan had been straightforward in her communication, expectations, and dealings. And days later Aelin had boxed her life away, tucked into a rusting car. Enough cash for the first few months of rent, and a box of pastries and some wildflowers as a thank-you gift. 

Stood before the seafoam coloured front door, surrounded by a weather worn wrap-around porch, her mind wandered. Imagining herself out here, sat under the sky as it danced through its emotive number. Scribbling away in notebooks, listening to the ruffle of the grass. Living in step with a mighty beast, watching its crawl up the surf. Following its retreat.

Too good to be true. 

She had knocked, had texted an hour ago that she would be on the final leg of the journey. Hand clasped soundly around the wildflowers, the smell of jam scones. The pitter-patter of footsteps rose. They sounded… heavier? 

Just as Aelin had moved to peer into the open window, curtains pushed back, seafoam shifted to cotton, shifted to a man. 

“Aelin,” He spoke, voice like a storm crashing on the rocks of a forsaken shore, “You’re earlier than I had expected. Come in.”

Taglist: @mariaofdoranelle , @goddess-aelin

Let me know if you would like to be added to the taglist!

[freetobeeyouandme]

Chapter 7: I Get 'Advice' From a Demi-Goddess

Chapter 7 of my Byler Isekai AU took me forever, but it's finally up on Ao3! Mike and Will get to go shopping in a quaint little lakeside town and run into demi-goddess dispersing invaluable wisdom.

Tags: M, Graphic Descriptions of Violence, Fantasy AU, Canon Typical Violence, Canon Typical Horror, Friends to Lovers, Slow Burn

Summary:

Mike Wheeler hates High School, so when he almost dies and falls through a portal to another world, he’s not going to complain. Especially not when that world does not only have swords and magic but seems to work exactly according to the rules of his favorite tabletop role-playing game. But his euphoria might be short lived because the party of adventurers he falls in with turns out to be the target of an evil god and the fate of the world might rest on their shoulders. So, exactly like his games of D&D. Except the wanna-be Paladin soon realizes that being a hero is much harder in real life than it is in-game. - Or, Mike gets isekai’d into a world where D&D is real.

An excerpt and taglist below the cut:

Excerpt:

By the time they make it back to their rooms, everyone else is awake and busy; breakfast sits mostly eaten on the table in front of the fireplace. El, Hop and Jonathan are still at it while Max sits beside them just sort of staring into space a little. The others flit in and out of their bedrooms as they get ready to leave.

El smiles when she sees them come in and waves with a half eaten pastry. “They made waffles!”

The thing in her hand looks like a waffle alright, but all the waffles in the room seem to be hoarded on her plate, so it’s not like Mike and Will could grab any if they wanted to.

“It looks like they made everything,” Will replies. He sits down besides her, grabs a plate, and then surveys the remaining food. In the end he settles for trying to swipe one of the waffles from his El’s plate.

The Sorceress is quicker, though, and the two of them end up squabbling over the food. Hop has to put a stop to it, reprimanding Will to leave his sister’s plate alone, and El to be nicer to her brother.

In response El sticks her tongue out at Will triumphantly and hugs her plate of waffles to her chest. Then she turns towards Mike with an innocent smile: “Do you want a waffle?”

Mike looks from her to the food ladden table – most of it normal enough, scrambled eggs and breadrolls, jams, and pastries – and feels only a little bit overwhelmed. “Uh, sure.”

El gleefully scoops a waffle onto an empty plate and holds it out for him over her brother’s head. Mike reluctantly takes it and a seat on the other couch, besides Jonathan.

“How is that fair!?” Will wails, although his tone only sounds half serious.

Still, Mike takes the waffel and rips it in half, giving Will a part of it. The dragonborn blinks, surprised. On the other side of the table El’s eyes widen, but before she can do anything, Will stuffs the entire thing into his mouth and chews exaggeratedly in her face.

For a moment the table is silent. Then Max bursts out into loud, cackling laughter.

El shakes her head, but she doesn’t look angry, instead just giving Mike a disbelieving smile. He meets her eyes and just shrugs. Then he fills his plate with some eggs, syrup and a round pastry ball covered in what looks like powdered sugar and digs in.

“You feeling better?” Will asks Max when the Monk’s fit of laughter has subsided.

Max shrugs. “Sure. I had all my bones broken yesterday, but I’m healed, so I’m fine.”

Her voice drips with sarcasm, but no one calls her out. Who among them would be fine in her shoes? She might seem physically alright, but Mike doesn’t want to know what it must have felt like to die like she almost had. Just the memory of her broken, bloody body will haunt his nightmares even if they manage to defeat One – he can’t fathom how Max will ever sleep again.

In a way, too, he knows what it feels like to die. He remembers the darkness that had taken him as he drowned, the fire that had engulfed his entire body as it shattered on the cement surface of the lake. But the water had taken him fast. He’d been out quick and only come back as Will healed him. One was a lot more precisise than Sattler’s Quarry, and Mike didn’t doubt Max would remember dying in much greater detail than he ever would.

It’s a strange thing to be grateful for.

Owens returns as they finish breakfast, the same faux concern plastered onto his face as he had yesterday. Mike had thought that perhaps he had judged the High Mage too harshly, since the Laboratories had seemed to good to be true to his exhausted and frightened mind. But he still feels the same distrust today, as Owens smiles at them just a little too widely, offering his help without wanting anything in return – the sort and scale of an altruism out of place in a man of his political stature.

The others don’t seem to necessarily disagree with Mike’s judgement. Lucas is quick to thank the man for his hospitality and his support, but also makes it clear that they won’t be staying past breakfast. Owens tries to talk him out of it, then seems to realize there is no point arguing with the prince and relents. He promises some more resources and to see them off personally, then leaves them to their preparations.

They’re gone less than an hour later. When even El has finished eating, they collect the last of their things, pack the rations that Owens sends up, and head out.

Unofficial Tag List (aka you interacted with my posts about this fic, please tell me if you want me to not tag you in the future (or want to be added)): @smalltownwheeler @wheelerpilled @wrong-energy @willthelies @foodiewithdahoodie @doggo9 @gardenfairie @beelikesbyler @beverlysclown @yickarus @sourdough-el @hessolivagant @hesquietoday @oldfashionedmorphine @total-serene560 @bylersrise @hawkinsunderground @longtallglasses @generalstorecashier @usnaavi @camel-casing @bylersbear01 @turningsoft @casatoan @maru-chu @xobyers @goldentrunks @itachisnipplesharingan

[agentem]

Marvel Television Ranking (Disney+ era)

Someone asked me which Marvel shows are worth watching and I made a whole post about it. I watched all of them so you don't have to!

You Should Watch:

WandaVision - This show suffers from Marvel's need to have a final CGI battle (the final episode is let down from the previous). But it's Marvel's best use of the TV format. The emotions of it are so strong and it is genuinely a watchable sitcom in places. And it makes you believe that young girl would fuck that robot in a way Infinity War didn't really do.

2. Loki Season One -- There are a few middle episodes that feel slow in this series, but overall this is probably the best one in terms of consistency. Also high concept, with a strong ensemble. Season Two is fine but would be in a lower tier.

3. Ms Marvel - It's a good stand alone show and Marvel does not seem to be backing down on Iman Vellani being central to the MCU going forward (even though the Marvels was poorly received). So you need to know Kamala and also you're welcome because she's adorable.

These Are Good Shows If You Have Time:

4. Hawkeye - It's not as good as the Fraction run in the comics it is based on and it starts a bit slow, but once Echo shows up it's fun. Plus it's a Christmas theme!

5. Avengers 97 - It was my jam as a kid. It's still my jam as an adult. Not really for children though. I am bummed I can't show it to my nephews (character death, genocide, oddly sexualized Magneto, the whole comics shebang).

6. Moon Knight - If you like hippo goddesses and watching Oscar Isaac act with himself, this is the show for you. So far this series has not connected to the wider MCU in any way. The stand-alone-ness of this series is both a strength and a weakness. You can just watch it! But if you are looking to advance the "overall" plot of the MCU then this could feel "pointless" to some. (I'd argue the hippo is the point.)

These Shows Have Issues

7. She Hulk: Attorney at Law: Dudebros on the internet will make you think this is the worst thing Marvel has ever done and that is not the case. But it is hit or miss, and the comedy is women-centric. I actually prefer the more comedic sitcom moments (like the episode in the yurt). You also have to be able to watch bad CGI a lot; it's like they didn't have time to finish it which is probably what really happened. I grew up in the 90s so I have no problem with wonky CGI.

8. The Falcon and the Winter Soldier - I really wanted to like this because Red, White and Black was one of those comics that you read and thought, "of course. This is what would've happened." But mostly it's a let down. Plot points were changed due to the pandemic and it is... noticeable. Anyway, Carl Lumbly is great and if you just want to watch his scenes, then I wouldn't judge you.

9. What If...? I like this one but it feels super skippable. It's like the thing for people who want more Marvel all the time when the culture is dealing with Marvel overload. (Yes, I watched all of it.) I do want to see Jeffrey Wright in live action soon though.

Just NO.

10. Echo -- Very sad to say this because I think the impulse to give Alaqua Cox (she is a disabled, indigenous actress who had never been on TV before) more to do after her debut in Hawkeye was a generous one. But this wasn't thought out enough as it needed to be.

11. Secret Invasion -- It hurts me that this was bad. Luckily Samuel L. Jackson is a pro at being good in bad projects. Simply watching Olivia Coleman's scenes on YouTube would be more satisfying than the show.

[dutifullynuttywitch]

What if Gaius had his moment of payback?

Bloodbound

Gaius Augustine, Rheya Apostolous

688 words

Rating: T (cw: death)

To: @gaiuskamilah

Happy birthday Jam! I’m so glad I met you through this crazy little fandom! Hope you are having a wonderful b-day!!! I’m incapable of drawing or editing, so I thought I’d gift you a little drabble of our favorite former big bad… what if MC lets him have his moment of retribution?

Gaius steps onto the brightly lit stage, his eyes fixed on the figure before him.

He chuckles bitterly to himself. After centuries of mind control, what was one more moment of pretending?

He roughly throws Kamilah, Andrian and Lily at her feet.

“My goddess, I have found your wayward children, as you wished.”

“Well done, my knight. Keep them to the side while I complete my ritual.”

The first vampire hardly spares him a glance, too engrossed in draining the life energy from the mesmerized, adoring crowd.

Gaius takes advantage of her distraction, inching ever closer to her.

Rheya.

His maker.

The one who had controlled his mind for most of his immortal life.

Soon to be nothing but flecks of dust under his boots.

He surreptitiously reaches for the dagger, but she catches the movement. Suddenly, every muscle in his body freezes. He can’t move a finger.

Rheya’s lips curl into a cruel smile.

“Gaius, my dear,” she purrs, her voice dripping with condescension, “you look troubled, standing like a statue with your new friends. Tell me, were you so terribly unhappy by my side?”

Gaius’s jaw clenches, his anger simmering just beneath the surface.

“You took everything from me, Rheya. My freedom, my will, my very soul. I will never forgive you for that.”

Rheya’s laughter echoes beyond the lit stage, cold and mocking.

“Forgive me? Oh, Gaius, you were always so naive. You were nothing before I found you. I gave you power, immortality. You should be grateful. On your hands and knees, revering me with everlasting gratitude.”

“Grateful?” Gaius snaps, his eyes blazing with fury, “You turned me into a monster, a puppet for your twisted games. But no more. Tonight, it all ends.”

“You cannot defy me. I am your maker.”

“You may have created me, but you do not own me. Not anymore.”

“What a tender little speech. You were always one for grandstanding, my sweet Gaius.”

Rheya approaches her former soldier and wayward child. She trails a perfectly manicured finger along his cheek, a mocking glint in her eyes.

Suddenly, Rheya stalls. Her eyes grow wide as she struggles to move.

“Not so fun being frozen in place, is it Rheya?”

Magdalene steps out from the shadows, brow creased in concentration. Droplets of sweat fall from the extreme effort required to immobilize a literal goddess.

“Any time now, Gaius.”

She grinds out, not taking her eyes from the now furious Rheya.

He realizes Magdalene was able to undo Rheya’s mind control.

Gaius smirks at the young vampire, admiring her fearlessness, her strength.

He catches movement. Adrian, Kamilah and Lily prepare to attack, should he fail in his task.

That would not happen.

With a swift motion, he draws a black dagger from his coat. It glints under the spotlight, black blood dripping from its sharp point. Its energy spreads rapidly throughout the theater, significantly weakening all the immortals present.

For the first time, Rheya is fearful.

“That… that cannot be…”

“The blood of your beloved. Sweet retribution, do you not think?”

In a blur of movement, Gaius lunges at Rheya, the dagger plunging into her heart.

The goddess gasps, her eyes filled with shock and pain.

“Gaius… you…”

“It’s over, Rheya,” Gaius whispers, his voice filled with a mix of sorrow and relief. “You will never control me again.”

He stands there, gazing as the lifeless body of his maker turns to dust.

Centuries of mind control, violating the very essence of who he was, avenged at last.

A slow smile spreads across his sharp features.

Whether he lived or died now, it didn’t matter.

It was over.

[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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[zzencat]

hello. My initials are SM and my emoji is 🍫

Since i'm 18, may i ask which +18 channeled messages my future spouse wants to say to me right now?

Also, can i ask how my first time in bed with my future spouse will be like?

Thank you in advance 💚🍋🧁

Minors dni 😎👊

Ok SM!! Idk who the more feminine energy in yall’s relationship will be but it seems like the fem energy/figure would want to be the nurturing one, the one in charge. The fem energy would want to be the one being worshipped, having pleasure be earned/given on their own will depending on the performance of the other person. VERY motherly energy here- either they wanna take care of you, or if you’re the more feminine one, you wanna care for them. It’s a bunch of good shit trust 😮‍💨🤞

Extra points: mommy kink 🥹🥴, “princess,” “my queen”, mistress, goddess, body worship, “I’ll do anything for you,” “good (boy/girl),” tit play, breast sucking/nursing, making the fem. energy feel good first before the less fem energy gets pleasured, VERY SOFT and sensual sex, maturity, motherly, soft femdom, praise, begging, whimpering, squirting or a bunch of fluid play, honestly HELLA nurturing (bro I’m all for this kink arsenal- dis jungle mah jam)

ALSO a little warning or note here: I think what you’re seeking for is very specific and might be kinda hard to find or get (esp when you’re trying to find love in the relationship as well) depending on where you are and your surrounding community, but you should find someone that makes you feel complete overall and not just in one sense or another. Your first time will be focused on pleasing each other and hella stamina. Not sure who pleases who, but it looks like the one who carrying more masculine energy will do more of the pleasing and giving, probably to earn pleasure themselves or to prove themselves. You’re gonna want someone who has everything and might be a high ass standard, but you’re being urged to be patient and focus on giving the most yourself. There might be multiple rounds or some inconsistencies, a deep desperation, fast then slow, fast again, slow again. It’ll be a satisfying end and possibly relieving to your inner child. And the aftercare prob boutta go crazy too 🥴

Be careful that you don’t get too desperate btw! Bc the standards really do be up there and sometimes you could be a bit spendy if it ever comes to that low of a point.

Thank you for waiting SM! Hopefully this gives you a bit of what to look forward to 😎🫡

[godisofknowledge17]

Hello fam..gods & goddesses eye am going to reintroduce myself, and my likes, interests..

About me…My name is biaca but I prefer to be called divine goddess 40 yrs of age..mum of 1..Atlanta, ga is where am from born and raised..eye am seeking to attract my soul forever love..they has to be spiritually loves too going down the rabbit hole and fuk up this matrix someone that wants to build love nature, into crystals, stones, loves to burn incense, palo santo, candles, work with healing herbs, loves too manifest, someone who’s into their chakras, soul molo, r&b, slow jams, afro, jamaican, music, someone with a good sense of humor…and a little freaky, love learning about different cultures, and tarot cards astronomy, astrology, palmistry and so much more. eye am so here to attract my tribe family as well and build a spiritual community like spiritually schools for our kids, spiritually black businesses, spiritually retreat centers, meditation, yoga.. definitely someone thats on the same frequency as me and very urban with the hippie style, organic, plant based, vegan eater.❤️🖤💚📚👁️Asé 𓋹𓂀

Drop your ankh 𓋹 down in the comments if you like to know more about me and I’ll hit your inbox!😘

[recitedemise]

@spiderwarden asked: He made such a sight beneath her like this, almost adorable she'd say with the way the light reflected off his brow. And so it is here that she makes her home, straddled comfortably on him with her hands resting against his chest. A simple gesture, yet affectionate in the way way she slowly grinds herself down into him, a tender smile 'pon her face before she bends her elbows with the slow lower over him. For a moment she looks as if she is seconds from kissing him, but instead her head lifts with the press of her lips on the crease of his brow just between his eyes. Then she lifts her head and presses her kiss to one eye, and then the other, linger on his left side just a little longer. Before she drags her kiss along his skin to touch the corner of his lips.

Minthara's eyes open and she meets his eye, then closes her hand into his chin and turns his head before her mouth drags down his neck where teeth find a pinch of skin and presses. Determined to trace every part of him with her tongue while that touch releases his chin to rest against the core of his chest. A sentiment reflected in who now would lather him in affection over the Goddess who had abandoned him, the Paladin and the Wizard - both bound in different ways to an oath of previous devotions that now doomed the other in differing ways. Yet shared in their afflictions. She inhales and pinches him again before she presses her tongue and slides it down the curve of his neck to his collarbone.. Yes.. Yes she would show him just how true devotion felt, even if that means tying his hand above his head to make him stop squirming.

Gale's used to welcoming all sorts of possibilities. He's a wizard with ambition; it's his bread and jam of a sort. That said, even some thoughts, he acquiesces, are thoughts he would argue rather doomed to fantasy, and this moment, this here, rests chiefly among them. This hour, Minthara, was against all odds. Yet, here he is now, tent suddenly crowded and lap wonderfully taken. He startles. What are chances, foolish wizard, to such contemptable creatures? They've been doomed by the narrative and toyed with by gods. Nothing. His pulse beats madly. Chances mean nothing.

He groans weakly. She peppers his skin. And his heartbeat roars. Stoppered, every word he can think of lays tangled in his throat. They were talking, Gale recalls, about his hurts, his hopes, and his innumerable failings. As usual, Minthara had listened, so hawkish in the measure of her steely gaze, but when she leant in closer and mouthed at his skin— Goodness, between then, that tension that's been wounding at long last snaps. Stop thinking, she'd been urging. You squander our time with more of your words. She's now everywhere at once, a warm body, a willing mouth, and an eager weight. She grinding down in his lap as he nearly falls apart. It's glorious, he gasps. This worship is glorious.

"Not that I don't appreciate where this is going, but, ha—" It's hard to think. Has it really been that long? "Where is this coming from exactly?" Gale grabs at her waist and longs to kiss. Her mouth blazes scalding, and already, he's flustering in a shade of delirious need. His eyes are half-closed, hair messily fanned out in grey waves beneath him, but where he looks all a mess of sensitive, sparking nerves, Minthara, up above, is stunninly steady. She's calm and focused. Sure in her movements, she might have planned this from the start. Still, to be laying so vulnerable in the strong of her stare... Gale shivers. Clumsily, he once more reaches for a real kiss. "Gods be good, Minthara. Don't make me beg."

[reverend-dog]

Shepherdess

Smoke choked the cave, winding up from the ever-burning torches which flanked the dais. The effigy on the dais portrayed a feminine figure of generous proportion, reclining with a lamb in her lap and a shepherd’s crook jammed in the ground nearby.

Michael’s heart felt like a smith’s hammer against her ribs, as she knelt in front of the effigy. “Beloved Styrscha,” her voice quavered, and she fought a swallow to wet her dry throat, “attend me, I beg you. This very night, not an hour ago, I saw the Nyxian army on the march toward Black Lake Valley. They will reach the town before I can get there. And even if I could get there before them, who would I warn? We have no soldiers, not even a watch.

“Dear goddess,” Michael pleaded, “you know the Nyxians. They know no pity. Their hunger for pillage and murder drive them, and they respect only power. Please, send us an army, a champion, somebody to turn the Nyxian horde.”

The torches guttered, then flared up. “you already have an army,” whispered a voice in Michael’s ear. She whipped her head to the side, but saw only the cave wall. “a champion, you must provide. who is here?”

“Only myself, dear Styrscha,” Michael replied. “But I am a simple shepherdess. I know no weapons, nothing of war.”

“you are a protector,” the voice countered. “valor lives in the heart, not the arm. what will you give for your flock?”

Michael’s head snapped up to stare at the effigy. The full import of the question sank in. “Everything,” she answered.

“then the champion is found.”

….

Crenelated boots and iron-shod hooves tromped dusty earth. Ebon leather and plate creaked in foreboding harmony to the rhythm of the march. Spiked helmets crowned faces tight with anticipation, or grim with determination.

General Vrynn rode in the middle of his troop, his mount the largest of all. His eyes reflected the moonlight, bright as a cat’s. Night was the Nyxian domain. They marched and fought while the sun slept. Not only did this allow them to catch their prey unawares, but it added to the fear that squeezed men’s hearts at the name Nyxian.

“Milord General,” Lieutenant Tass spoke up. “Scouts report a party in the road ahead.”

General Vrynn snorted. “Bandits,” he conjectured. “Deal with them.”

“Milord!” Lieutenant Tass passed the order to the vanguard, who broke rank and jogged ahead. Sounds of combat echoed back, clash of weapons and cries of pain. General Vrynn’s brow furrowed. “Too long for bandits,” he muttered. “And is that… sheep?”

The bulk of the troop continued forward, until the sergeant at the lead called for a halt. Lieutenant Tass tilted her head. “Milord General, Sergeant Gatt respectfully begs your presence at the fore.”

General Vrynn scowled. “What?” he growled, but kicked his mount forward. Ranks parted before him, except for one soldier who moved an instant too slow, and was trampled. “What is this?” he demanded as he drew up next to Sergeant Gatt.

By way of answer, the sergeant pointed ahead of them. There, strewn across the road and off to both sides, lay the cadre of scouts, limp and twisted. In the middle of the way stood a slender figure in peasant’s garb, head bowed, a shepherd’s crook in one hand.

General Vrynn rounded on Sergeant Gatt. He swung an armored fist, and stove in the sergeant’s head with one blow. “Cowards!” he raged. “Sally forth!”

Driven by training, faith, and fear, the troop surged forward, weapons raised. They trod over the bodies of their fellows, heedless.

The figure’s head snapped up. Eyes blazed, twin suns in a face full of youth. In the same moment, dozens of other eyes opened behind the shepherdess. They hung lower, angled more to the side, equally lambent. Muzzles parted, shrieks and bleats of rage sounded, and the strange enemy mounted their own charge.

At the end, General Vrynn sprawled in the dirt, trapped under the carcass of his mount. All around, what soldiers remained stood their ground until trampled and torn, or broke and ran. The general of the Nyxian army blinked away blood and dust, and tried to focus on the girl who stood over him. “Who are you?” he challenged.

“Just a shepherdess,” the girl replied, “ready to give everything for her flock and her home. Can you say the same?”

The general tried to sneer, but just then a ewe pranced by, a hand dangling from her muzzle. General Vrynn was no stranger to horror, but the sight struck ice in his chest and down his back. “Be done with it, then,” he told her. “Kill me.”

Michael shook her head. “No,” she replied. “You will live. Go, and tell people what happened here. Tell them Black Lake Valley is forbidden. Make them believe it.” She turned and began to walk away.

“They won’t,” he declared.

Michael stopped, and turned her head. “Then let them come,” she invited over her shoulder. Gathering her flock, she strolled into the shadows as dawn tinged the sky.

[the-firebird69]

What we say is he's not forgetful that people are trying to jam him and he had us in there it's Bruce Lee very famous person here knows being very evil and he's missing and a lot of people think that he might be held the time he left and he's the youngster and we're going to go ahead and find him for what he's doing to our son and his neck and more and we're going to start now cuz he really needs relief it's going to happen soon and this is going to be intense what's going on now is intense there's a lot of people going to the middle areas at the same conundrum and it's great he says and that's why I mentioned Bruce Lee it's really which in Lynn and Jason he's Korean and they're doing it there and he's a very famous fighter what he did was famous and valuable lesson these guys who are screwing around and their kids can hurt you pretty good and he also learned to fake it he could have beat the s*** out of that guy and the reprimand would not have occurred even though it was Jason who hit him in the soulplexus he showed him that he's opened and a little slow and he started to say this why would you say that so I think that you would not have done that if I did something other than that and he said yeah probably not but and he said this wow that sucks cuz he said here are the rules for you and me and it is terribly bad he's Max was spoiled and all a bunch of things I don't think they're going to win everything and then nasty and stupid and owner Dave hated them we can't stand them anybody who thinks logically. They said they're wrong and will and Bill have a hell of a time they have trouble getting through the day with all this jeering and leering and smiling and smacking that's a slap Happy f***** and he wants to start a slap fight tournament because a lot of people are Max and that's what he has kind of like doing you like to get in there do the real thing but not pay for anything that much and he says okay that's great and with the James Bond thing that's probably a little bit over the top but that's what happens when you're fighting each other and he said why would you do that and said you do it to me and he says as strongly suggested and they said they know that one and slap fight number two and they said no because he was huge even now no so they're both laughing because they're saying no we don't want to do that this is what if I have a sore neck and they say please and then it was on so he's suggesting slap flight tournaments in Las Vegas Nevada so they're popularized and stars can take him on each other they probably won't make the news but it will make it in Vegas and it's going to be a big bets it's not the slap at the table sh I'm going to sponsor this idea

Uriel and goddess wife and he says I can get big and do it then and then say no I said why not all right so we're laughing

But 8 ft and Bob Brady is can step in and he says no it's Bob birdy's not Brady and he still says no and bill says no of course not and he's going to do his own slap fight with some small a****** so Preston and Bob birdies and hulk Hogan they all want to do this everyone keeps challenging them so if they're in Vegas and so in challenges them doesn't turn into a street fight or a brawl or a big huge fight it'll go down to the arena and you sign a waiver and you get the rules and and you probably have some kind of gear on your head and you do the slap fight so that's going to start pretty soon

Thor Freya

Olympus