#blue staircase runner

[iamjamieswife]

Traditional Entry - Foyer Inspiration for a huge timeless medium tone wood floor entryway remodel with white walls and a dark wood front door

[toyastales]

I adore the bohemian flair in this hallway.

Great use of color and pattern.

[daenylothbrok]

Oxfordshire Mudroom Hall Large trendy ceramic tile and white floor entryway photo with white walls and a black front door

[ja3hwa]

♡ 𝐊𝐞𝐞𝐩 𝐑𝐮𝐧𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐀𝐧𝐝 𝐃𝐨𝐧'𝐭 𝐋𝐨𝐨𝐤 𝐁𝐚𝐜𝐤 | 𝐂.𝐒 ♡

【Synopsis】 : All you've ever known is to run. And now you have someone worth standing still for.

『Word count』 : 920

-> Genre: Dystopian. Ateez Lore-ish. Hint of Romance. SFW

Pairing: Freedomfighter!San x Runner!Reader

[Warnings] : Swearing. Government bullshit. Dystopian and apocalyptic themes. Hint of past love. Being in trouble by cops and what nots, hehe.

Note: I was cleaning out my drafts and found this old thing. I had written it when Guerrilla first dropped. So I decided to finish it off (kinda). idk if I'd ever make more. But who knows, maybe i will, hehe. Also love to mention no clue what past me was trying to write. So enjoy ♡♡

Networks: @blossomnet @atzhouse @wonderlandnet

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Running was something you were born to do. It was like the moment you could get your feet on the ground you ran. Skip the crawling or wobble walking towards the open arms of your parents, being so proud to see their baby take their first steps. No, you decided running the was an option you would choose the minute you were able. And this is how you ended up in this exact predicament. Running…

Running from one of the most feared governmental dick heads. You had one job, stealing some documents about the tall walls that surrounded the large city. Simple right? The person who hired you wanted to expose the truth about the government. The truth, that the apocalypse only happened because someone in a top-secret lab wasn’t careful enough. And now society needed to live in large walled cities and towns to protect themselves from the wastelands. No one knew much about the outer border, let alone what indeed was outside the safety of the walls. And that’s where your employer comes in. A man that went by left eye. Personally, you thought it was a strange name, but you aren't getting paid for judging names. You hopped over another building roof, just barely managing to shake two of the big guards that chased you. But one was still hot on your tail and no matter how hard you tried, you couldn’t seem to lose him.

You leapt over another roof before sliding down a fire escape staircase. You were in a dark alley with the only lights coming from the street at the end of it. You needed a place to hide cause even though you were born to run, you really needed a rest.

“Hey In Here.” A mellow voice called from behind a metal door that happened to be hidden among the wall decore, seeming to camouflage itself. You thought for a moment. Either you keep running and potentially get caught or you risk going with the strange voice behind an even stranger door.

“I think they went this way.” You hear the two guards you lost minutes ago call out from above.

Stranger it is.

You ran to the door, quickly slipping inside before anyone could see you. The tall person who was behind the voice closed the large metal entrance, locking it with a bunch of padlocks and chains. He had a hood on to keep his face covered, but a sense of ease washed over you being around him. His presence somewhat familiar.

“Quick, this way.” He guided to down the small hall, his hand gripping your wrist so you wouldn’t lose one another in the maze of twists and turns. His palm was tough like he worked with them every day. Tattoos travelled up his arm, disappearing under the large pastel blue cloak he was wearing. He was tall, dark and mysterious, you’ll give him that.

“Okay, we should be safe here. The others are out right now, so I… I gotta lot of explaining when they get back.” His light harded chuckle made a wave of relief pour over you. His cloak slipped off his face, showing his beautiful features to you. Your breath finally escaped from your lungs, you hadn't even realised you were holding it until this very moment. His was indeed familiar, and it was only until he smiled in your direction that you figured out who he was.

“San? As in Choi San?” You gasped. His expression told you he was just as surprised as you were, rubbing the back of his neck with his hand. He avoided eye contact for a moment, trying to think of something to say.

“You remember me?”

“Remember you! You were—” Your heart screamed for you to say the love of my life, best friend, the only person who stuck by me when we were in the orphanage. But your brain decided it was best to avoid awkwardness since it had been over seven years since you’d last seen him. “You were my friend. Of course, I remember you."

“Well, I’m glad I kept an impression on you.” He smiled, showing a calm and cool nature. Even though his heart was about to jump out of his chest and he swears the world just became fuzzy, making it harder for him to stand. He missed you ever since those masked guards took you away to start your higher-up training. He didn’t think he’d ever see you again after that. But here you were, still the same young troublemaker. But only this time, you were even more beautiful than before, how that was possible he couldn’t describe it.

You looked around the large room seeing a poster board with photos of the government agents that were on your list to avoid. Papers riddled with notes and scribbles about information. All of this information was similar to what you had just stolen. The info you had was just a puzzle piece. It finally clicked what San had been up to all these years, making you smile with glee.

"So I didn't think the Choi San would become a freedom fighter..." You turned to look at him again.

"And I didn't think you'd become a runner." His expression matched your own, except his hid concern. Out of anything you could have become, you became a runner. Someone who gathers intel or bounty for a price. He could say he was surprised, but it still raised one question.

who did you work for?

[hometoursandotherstuff]

I kind of love this unexpectedly moody 2013 mansion in Bethesda, MD. It has pops of white and gray rooms interspersed with the black, but it's very well done. 6bds, 11ba, only $23.5M. I wonder if millionaires will like it- it's coming to the market June 23rd and they haven't painted it light gray or white. Yet.

I don't mind that it's black, b/c it's beautiful and it's new, so they haven't ruined anything.

Check out the grand staircase. Love the black runner against the white stairs.

I love how the colors of the art match and give off a golden glow.

Gotta have that black baby grand piano. This room has gray wallpaper and wainscoting, but it features a creamy leather Chesterfield sofa and pops of white.

Gorgeous den. They provided a closeup of the heavily veined marble fireplace. Nice.

The books even coordinate and I wish they would've made the gold ceiling more coppery. (Not that it matters what I think.) Did you know that designers actually buy old books to match clients decor?

The kitchen's white with a big black island and white hanging lamps. It's nice, b/c the black & white theme can be carried thru, or it can be given pops of color.

Lovely every day dining area is bright and has a view.

An intimate little sun room with a great view.

Love the little library and it has a terrace for going outside to read.

Stairs to the lower level. Note the griege walls- an HGTV new standard in decor. Interesting light fixture- it looks like a starfish.

These stairs look like they come out of nowhere.

The large entertaining space consists of an extensive bar, seating, plus tables & chairs.

And, of course, there's the wine cellar/tasting room. This is one mansion that I actually like.

Outside, there's a wonderful infinity pool with a bridge.

Blue lights in the pool coordinate with the chaises.

Look at the waterfall.

She's beautiful inside and out.

That's the historic Potomac River going by.

1.93 Acre lot, so it's almost 2 acres.

https://www.zillow.com/homedetails/6699-Macarthur-Blvd-Bethesda-MD-20816/37166434_zpid/

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Rolling in the Deep

Prequel to Make You Feel My Love 

Warnings: mentions of abuse, violence, blood, miscarriage. Warnings may not be exhaustive, enter at your own risk.

Summary: You try to get out.

Character: Bucky Barnes

Note: Please leave any thoughts or comments or reblogs or anything you like!

You take the suitcase out of the closet. Already packed, waiting, ready to go at just the right time. That moment has come. Bucky’s gone. A mission out of the country.

It’s not just the bag. You have a plan. You’ll leave your phone there. When you get downtown, you’ll find a public bathroom to do a sweep of your clothing for any other trackers. You have cross-country tickets. You don’t need a passport for those, it will be harder for him to find you.

You’ll disembark at a midway point and do something about your hair. A change that obscures your trail. From there, you’ll take a bus and buy a train ticket at the first major city. You just need to lose yourself in the shuffle of life outside your tiny world.

You check the pouch strapped around your stomach. Cash. Enough to get you far away. You’ll figure it out from there. You lift the bag and near the door. You hold your breath. The house is ominously silent. The only witness to your flight.

You look out into the hall. You take a breath and carry the compact luggage cautiously along, steps softened by the long runner rug. Your hand goes to your stomach. It’ll be okay. You’re almost there. You just need to get outside.

As you near the top of the staircase, a shadow appears in the doorway closest to you. You take a step back, stunned by the unexpected figure. No. No. It can’t be. You know you can’t lie, he can hear your heartbeat.

“Steve,” you gasp and drop the bag.

You stand in a deadlock, you caught and him knowing. You swallow and repeat his name again. He tuts and puts his hand on the door frame.

“Why?” He utters. You should ask the same. Bucky’s little lap dog, his left hand, another enabler.

“You know why…” you say crisply.

He rolls his eyes and steps into the hall. You flinch as he grabs your arm. You wriggle and try to rip yourself away. You know it’s futile but your pride makes you fight.

“You’re going to let him hurt me. Again,” you sneer as he marches you backward.

He doesn’t respond as he nearly bowls you over. He gives a small shove so you stumble back into the bedroom. You catch your balance and stare at him. You knew before you tried it wouldn’t work. You don’t even know why you put so much effort in.

“You ask for it,” Steve grabs the door and snaps it shut.

You rush forward and hit the wood. You holler through it as you bring your fist against it, over and over, “Steve. You’re not like him. You can let me go. You can save me. Aren’t you supposed to save people… Captain?”

His footfalls pause not far from the other side. A sigh puffs loudly and he clears his throat. He continues on, the stairs groaning beneath his descent. You back up and cradle your stomach, the bump hidden by the loose fabric. I’m sorry, you look down at your shirt, I wanted better for you.

💔

Dread. That emotion has coloured much of your relationship with Bucky. 

At first, that dread that this man with the dreamy blue eyes and chiseled jaw wouldn’t like you.

Dread again when you sat on the cusp of your wedding day, stressing about everything that could go wrong.

And when it all went wrong and it was the fear of his temper, of his fist. Of how you might unwittingly bring out the worst of him. That part of himself you didn’t see until the last day of your honeymoon.

Now you wallow in it. You sit against the door, waiting. This is it. You know this doesn’t end well for you. You knew that when you packed the suitcase.

The dread twists in your chest, threatening to choke you as you hear movement below. The front door and the exchange of low voices. Silence, and then the unmistakable, discernible trad of his step. You know it anywhere, you’ve learned to listen for it, to recognise it.

You will not face this on your knees. You stand and face the door. You try to shake out your fear but that you cannot escape as much as you could not get away from this man. You take a deep breath as his slow progress creaks down the hallway, his weight shifting down the floorboards.

You stare at the handle as it turns, the lock sliding back. No one would ever know it but if they did, they would indeed think it rather odd that the lock is on the outside. They might even guess why.

You’re speechless and Bucky looks much the same. You see the anger pulsing in his forehead as his glare scalds you. As it all boils under the surface ready to bubble over. He is just deciding how he’ll let it come out. His lip twitches and his hand balls to a fist. Words or force, it doesn’t matter.

“Why can’t you just let me go?” You whisper.

His blue eyes flare and he takes a step forward. You retreat on your heels and he stops short. He sways as a shadow of hurt washes over his features.

“Why don’t you love me?” He grits.

You shake your head and cross your arms, “that’s the problems, Bucky, I do love you.”

He sighs, a deep exhale akin to a growl. His gaze falls and wanders over to the dresser. You wince as he stomps towards it and rips open the top drawer. It’s empty. He slams it and you cower as he faces you again.

“It’s true,” he sneers, “you were going to leave.”

You hang your head. Does he not see that you have no other option? That he has left you with no other choice. It is your life or no life at all. Whether you stayed or not, it would end like that.

“You–” he snarls and you cry out as he seizes the back of your neck.

He moves fast, faster than you can. You untangle your arms and reach back to claw at his forearm. He marches you down the hall as your feet bounce off the floor clumsily. You whine as his fingers curl into the tendons of your neck.

“Bucky, please, you’re hurting me–”

“You hurt me!” He hollers as he urges you to the top of the stairs.

“I… I never wanted to–”

“That’s all you’ve ever done,” he barks into your hair, sending hot breaths across your scalp. “You want to leave me? After all I did for you? After I loved you?”

“Bucky, I was scared–”

“Of what? I’ve protected you!”

“You!” Your squeeze his wrist as his metal fingers threaten to crush down to your spine, “I am terrified of you–”

“So you want to leave? You don’t want to talk?” He hisses as he pushes his head next to yours.

You look down the stairs as he hovers you on the top step. Your toes hang over the edge. You keep one hand on his forearm, the other clinging to the post beside you.

“I tried–”

“You want to go,” he snaps, swallowing loudly, “then… go.”

The last words are a gravelly whisper. He shoves you, throwing you off the step as you fall without obstacle. Your arms flail as he lets you go, as you try to catch yourself on anything. There is only air and then the harsh devastating crack of the first stair.

Your knees hit first and you shield your head against your uncontrollable plummet. Your chest hits next and you go ass over head, twisting around to bounce on your side, rolling and bumping over each step. Your foot flies out, hitting the banister as you hit the bottom and catches between the columns, the wood wrench your leg in the socket.

You stop, one leg bent unnaturally up as your foot stays hooked in the railing. Your breaths rattle as you lay strewn and broken. Agony coils around every part of you, burning most hotly at the base of your spine.

Bucky descends, a step at a time, each echoing ominously over you as you gulp and gasp for air. He looms over you and clicks his tongue as he bends to look you in the face.

“You fell, baby,” he shakes his head, “it’s a goddamn tragedy.”

You feel a churning in your pelvis, a hot pain in your stomach that makes you want to puke. You groan, vision speckling as you struggle just to lift a single finger. You close your eyes and shudder.

“Bucky…” you rest your hand over your stomach, “...the baby.”

[noisyquokka]

Lifetimes Before

PAIRING - Chan x GN!Reader

SYNOPSIS - Sometimes all your soul needs is a quiet night with your Lover, something that always feels familiar to you that you can't quite put a finger on.

WORDCOUNT - 2k

WARNINGS - Domestic Fluff, Established Relationship, dancing with this man under the stars? sign me up!!

A/N - I've had this idea stuck in my head for a while now, so I thought I'd finally get it out. Giggled, kicked my feet, twirled my hair whilst writing this and now I wish I could dance with my girlfriend... Anyway Happy Chan day, everybody!!🥰🎉

The wood creaks beneath your weight as you descend the staircase, halting at the second-last step and leaning over the railing. You scan the open space in search of your Lover, ears perking at the melody floating about the first floor. Something far older than the two of you, with elements of blues, swing, big band. A man with the vocals of silk and lace, a warm embrace. Nat King Cole. It's a record you're familiar with, one you can imagine your grandparents listening to in their late 20s. It's something that fits a quiet Sunday evening, the spices from a homecooked meal wafting through the house as the family sits down to eat. Something that fits this quiet Sunday evening.

The chosen vinyl spins on the turntable, soundwaves moving you like nothing else can. You skip down the last few steps, turning towards the back patio with a furrowed brow. There's a faint glow shining through the door's glass, fighting its way through the sheer curtains hanging from them; a pathetic excuse for privacy. But you find the golden glow of a sunset too good to pass up most days, the rays bleeding through the hallway, running up the walls like untamed flames in a campfire.

Ah, that glow… one of crackling wood and all-encompassing heat.

A smile pulls at the corners of your lips, your slippers padding across the runner in the hall as you pull the door open. Chan's back is to you, tending to the fire in the freestanding pit. Daylight is fading, the tree tops along your property rimmed in the amber glow of late Summer. The northern breeze assaults the fabric on your person, greeting the bare skin beneath with a sweet kiss of chills. You step out anyway, patio bricks smooth underfoot, and clear your throat. The man's shoulders tense only for a moment, straightening up as he turns to you. That familiar look of affection adorns his face.

"So what's this, then?" You gesture to the fire, the buzzing stereo inside. It's romantic beyond measure, and even as you know the events that are about to unfold, you play coy. "You call me down here for what, exactly?"

"Leave the door open," He says, waving you over with a wag of his fingers. You oblige, unable to hold back your smile as you close in on the sight before you. The mess of curls atop his head move with him, his focus on nothing else but you as you cross the space from the entrance to the patio. The closer you get, the wider Chan's smile gets until you're greeted by those dimples, the fire light washing over the elusive divots as he turns back to the horizon awash in a blaze of vibrant hues. Orange, violet, yellowish-pink.

You stop behind him, feeling the warmth of the fire spill over the broadness of his shoulders. He chuckles when your arms slink around his waist, tightening as you rest your cheek at the space between his shoulder blades. You take a deep breath, closing your eyes. The patio door sways open further with the breeze, the sound of the stereo mingling with the crackles and pops of dry wood. It's almost like the sands in the hourglass stop out here, every single time. If only…

Chan's fingers slip under one of your hands, linking your fingers together to pull you around to his side. The song that's playing ends, and you recognize the next instantly. Those fingers squeeze around yours in a nonverbal question, and Chan follows up with a verbal one.

"May I?"

"Do you even have to ask?"

"I'm just being a gentleman." He insists, pulling you closer with a gentle hand. His other hand settles at your waist, taking the lead in this three-step on this chilly evening. And you follow with no complaints, bringing your opposite hand up to rest on his shoulder. Nat King Cole begins his silken performance from inside.

Three little words,

Oh what I'd give for that wonderful phrase,

To hear those three little words,

That's all I'd live for the rest of my days,

His grip on you is firm but comfortable, there to keep you close even as he knows you're not going anywhere. The two of you ease into that familiar swing and sway, so used to being soul partners in this backyard oasis where the only wandering eyes are the wildlife that slinks through the shadows and the stars that have yet to make their appearance tonight. Moving together as one, sharing the same space as Chan pulls you in so your back is to his chest.

And what I feel in my heart,

They tell sincerely,

No other words can tell it half so clearly,

His voice rumbles in his chest, swaying you back and forth as he softly serenades you in his arms. You're smiling, lashes fluttering at such a serene and calming voice, the lyrics carrying you on wings of sound as you step in time with the music. And oh, does that voice hold nothing but the strongest affection for the one he's singing to. It erupts butterflies within your chest.

Chan unfurls you from his embrace, your fingers interlocking again as you step backward, shifting your weight to your left foot and coming back to center. It's hard not to smile, something so natural to the both of you - a waltz between two Lovers in firelight as your bodies flow like a river - when you've been here a number of times. The instrumentals fill the air between you both, floating out of the warmly lit home and into the night. 

Three little words,

Eight little letters,

Which simply mean I love you.

Chan's voice fills your ears again as he spins you around the patio, the chill creeping under your shirt. Even so, you feel nothing but warmth radiating from the man that's swinging you around like this is the most fun he's had in all his lifetimes. He pushes you away, shifting his left foot back before strong arms are pulling you back into him. Your laughter echoes through the trees, and you let your head fall back in bliss. You bite your lip as he presses a kiss to your chin.

"Am I doin' this right?" His breath is soft on your neck, arms slipping to the small of your back while yours find their resting place at his shoulders. You're much too close to properly dance, so Chan guides you into a slow and simple sway, shifting your weight from your left foot to your right.

"You're the dancer, Christopher," You reply, tilting your head to lock eyes with the man, "shouldn't you know?" A soft smile takes over your lips as you let your eyes linger on his in the warmth of the fire.

"I was referring to my execution," He gestures to the romantic setting he'd created with a smirk. "but from the look on your face, I'm guessing I've done alright."

You chuckle, blinking as your fingers find the hair at the nape of his neck. Your gaze flits around the backyard, seemingly judging the choices he'd made. The wind kicks up now, rustling the changing leaves that sway along their branches with you two below. The flames crackle with the intrusive whispers of air, embers glowing as they travel on the wind's current like fireflies. Your focus come back to those warm amber eyes, licking your lips.

"I'd say so." You murmur, leaning in to press a kiss to the corner of his mouth. Chan grins at that, lifting you with ease and twirling you around, the two of you moving in a smooth circle. You squeal at his movements, eyes wide for the slightest second as the pads of your fingers dig into his shoulders. But then you hear him giggle and you're being brought back down just enough that his lips can find yours. You hum contentedly into the kiss, lashes fluttering against your ever heating cheeks.

And what I feel in my heart,

They tell sincerely,

No other words can tell it half so clearly,

He sets you back to your feet and without missing a beat, you're back in step with little effort. Your body moves in time with Chan's and his with yours, each step blending into the next. The intuitive tells and the way you understand each other's bodies is an artform, with a level of cohesion that defies all logic. Like two halves of a whole, your souls intertwined in a way that's otherworldly. Attuned to the natural rhythm of one another, every step, every touch. It's something learned over lifetimes. It's an enchanting feeling; an experience you could live in for eternity if only you get to experience it with his soul in every single life beyond this one.

Three little words,

Eight little letters,

Which simply mean I love you,

He spins you away again, lyrics dancing on the tip of his tongue. The man's voice is like a soft, melodic lullaby, it's smooth and soothing tones washing over you. The breeze and the fire craft a tranquil and romantic atmosphere as you sway your hips with the music. The flames cast a glow across Chan's face, dancing over bare skin as he draws you back into him, foreheads bumping softly. He brings a hand up to cup your cheek, thumb brushing fervently at the warm skin. Time moves slowly in this moment, lasting an eternity as you breathe each other in. You could've sworn this song is only about two minutes long.

"Simply mean I love you."

He sings the last line softly, a wide grin taking over his face. You mirror that grin, unable to hold back as your heart beats heavy in your chest. Two pairs of eyes stare for a long moment, taking in every feature, every imperfection, everything. Nothing but a heart palpitating love in those gazes, melting into one another. There's love.

"I love you."

It's said at the same time, soft chuckles vibrating through warm chests. His breath lightly fans over your cheeks, the hand at your back coming to rest at your hip. He tilts your head up just enough, the softness of his lips meeting yours in another gentle kiss. You're still slightly swaying as the next song plays in the background, your senses tuned into him as you feel the chill on your skin, the scent of burning wood, the taste of Chan's lips on yours.

You dance until the fire begins to die, your bodies intertwined and foreheads resting against each other. Until the vinyl is finished playing, giving way to the chorus of night insects that still sing this close to the start of Autumn. The embers burn away, cooling into white ash as starlight takes over, the moon's soft luminescence illuminating the two of you. And even after all is quiet, you stay in Chan's arms, the warmth of his skin and his voice a gentle comfort.

You know you have work in the morning, but enveloped in your Lover's arms, you don't see yourself finding the willpower to rush back inside to go to bed. Not when everything feels as it should. Heartbeats in sync, two souls sharing such a profound connection that poets of old could only weave into the fabric of humanity's web with their weathered scribes.

You see their gazes now, in the twinkling of the stars above, beautiful and serene. A creation all their own. The scene brings a smile to their shimmering faces, that you know every inch of the man beside you. Every inch of his body, every movement, every sound. There is nothing that Chan does that you don't already know. Your love runs deeper than flesh and bone, deeper than the vastness of galaxies. It's a love that runs to the very essence of your two souls. A love that has lasted lifetimes before this one and will last for lifetimes after.

The hours pass, but you don't rush back inside to sleep. There is no hurry, no need. 

You are where you're supposed to be, in the arms of the man you love.

Psst!! If you made it this far, thank you for taking the time to read my work 💕 I appreciate you!

[albatris]

find the word tag!

thank you @illarian-rambling for tagging me in my favourite tag :3

my words are animal, ocean, pick and wall

ANIMAL

"Hey, Nat, where do you get your blood from?" She carried on without waiting for a reply. "I get mine from a slaughterhouse out in the country. Whole place run by vampires. Pretty neat business, super friendly. Do you want me to hook you up?"

Nat’s face scrunched up before he thought to stop it, and he was glad Riley was focused on the TV. "I couldn’t do that. I’m a vegetarian."

"Oh, dude, are you?" Riley said. "That’s fucking unfortunate. Vegetarian vampire. Oof. You squeamish about blood, then?"

Nat hadn’t considered this. "I’m… squeamish about animal blood. As long as I don’t drink animal blood I’m still a vegetarian."

"People don’t count?"

"Nah, I don’t think people count."

"Right on, dude." Riley skewered several aliens on her sword. "You’re so weird."

Nat filled the kettle and put it on.

"Animal blood isn’t as nice as human blood, anyway, hey?" Riley said. "But you’re not, like, killing someone every time you need a meal, right? Right? Nat?"

"No! Of course not!” Nat said. “I have a friend helping me out." A friend whose texts you’re ignoring.

OCEAN

Cypress Heights was one of those suburbs. Filled to bursting point with sprawling botanic gardens and multi-storey houses and boutique stores where everything cost more than Nat’s entire payslip. The streets were gorgeous and the schools were posh, but in the nice way. The way that spat out prim, proper kids born of opportunity, who always made a good impression on everyone and had articles written about them in newspapers. Darwelaide teen’s unconventional new method of cleaning oceans proves most effective world has ever seen!

Not to say all Cypress Heights kids were insanely successful, and not to say all Nats and Lyras were not. But if you scooped up a bucket of Cypress Heights kids and a bucket of Nats and Lyras and compared them as a whole, you could sure see the difference.

PICK

A pulse picked up pace somewhere ahead of him, hammering frantically out of time with his own, as his prey realised the position it was in. Nat started down the hall, footsteps light and springing and utterly soundless. He could hear it all, feel it all, in the vibrations through the building, in the air—the shuffling of a moving body, the swish of clothing in motion, the fearful, rapid press of shoes across tile. His throat ached. His mouth watered. The Garble pushed through his veins, tripped all the right wires in his head, sent pulsating, twitching, radiating warmth through every inch of his body. Rewarding him for the good job he was doing. Urging him to continue.

This was what he was built for. This was the most natural thing in the universe.

Nat broke into a run.

WALL

“Make yourself comfortable!” they said, and headed for the staircase at the far room. “I’ll be back in just a tick—I’m going to put your clothes in the wash.”

“Okay,” Nat said, distracted.

He supposed this was a living room. It looked more like a museum than a house, with its curling arched ceilings and marble floors. A twisting abstract sculpture stood by a set of double swing doors leading out of the room: shimmering blue and green glass, folded over itself like a ribbon, reaching up towards the roof. Abstract paintings loomed on every wall, confusing splashes of colour and shape, including one Nat thought looked rather like a dog chewing on the leg of a chair. Up a short step and to the right of the living room lay a lush dining room, with a marble table to match the floors. The table runner was strewn with candles and flower petals. Soft. Delicate. Nat already felt out of place here, like a scab that had started to itch.

I'm gonna tag @chauceryfairytales @tracle0 and anyone who can see a CAT right now :3

for the words storm, bite, bring and settle!

[nuwisha-laughs-last]

FIC TIME

Gale x Female Tav

Set in Waterdeep after the events of Act 3. Gale and Tiefling rogue Tav (Hecate) are moving back to his tower just before the wedding and Hecate is Not Comfortable™

Fluff, comfort, and kisses. Oh and Tara’s here too.

Content warning for mild racism toward Tieflings

*****

Moving In

Hecate stood frozen at the front entrance of Gale’s townhome. Her nose scrunched as she considered it. No — townhome was much too modest a word. This was a townhome in the same way the High Hall Palace was a three-bedroom house. The blasted thing had to be at least five stories, perhaps even six. Gale had described it as a tower once and he wasn’t wrong. Elegant, rounded detailing cradled each of the windows, the edges of which were tastefully filigreed in a rosy gold. The double doors loomed, swirls of some pearlescent stone inlaid into the fine, dark wood.

“Of course,” she muttered to herself, “A regular wooden door just wouldn’t do. No sir. Have you even seen the gilding? Perish the thought.”

Hecate didn’t even want to touch the door handle, which gleamed as though recently polished. It had to be a spell, she was sure of it. She shifted her rucksack and it dug into her side as though prodding her forward. The carriage was still parked behind her but most of its contents were Gale’s, who had already rushed inside. She couldn’t blame him. After everything they’d been through, the first sight of home must have been sorely welcome, or so she assumed.

Distractedly she thumbed the ring on her left hand — a simple thing, just a thin band of silver. She’d expected something more gaudy from Gale but it seems he knew her better than she thought. Occasionally she’d notice a dim blue glow out of the corner of her eye. He’d enchanted it of course but, infuriatingly, refused to tell her how. ‘Not until the wedding’ he’d said with that sly glitter in his eyes that she adored.

The porter banging down the steps jolted her from her thoughts. ‘Dey’, he’d said his name was, a young half orc with an easy smile. He eyed her quizzically as he passed by and she jerked a thumb at the lurid edifice with a wry twist of her lips,

“Might need a hose-down before I walk in there, or bare minimum a palanquin.” Dey laughed and nodded, diving back into the carriage for the rest of Gale’s luggage.

Hecate chewed on her bottom lip, tail twitching in agitation. Her pride couldn’t let Dey lap her again so with a decisive shake of her head she strode for the steps, taking them two at a time as though speed would keep her courage from failing her. The door was still partially open from the porter’s egress and she slid inside without so much as a single hair touching the beautiful oiled wood.

Standing in the foyer, she was even more keenly aware of her drab clothing, the plain, soft cotton seeming more and more dull by the moment when compared against the gilded crown moulding and the plush purple runner that led from the door, down the hall and cascaded up the splendid spiraling staircase.

Hecate licked her lips, feeling rooted once again. What was this? Nervousness? She couldn’t remember a time she’d ever felt this way. What a hideous sensation. It sauntered about, regaling her with a rather haunting chorus:

You don’t belong here.

Her tail lashed the floor behind her and she very nearly fled back to the safety of the veranda when —

“Hecate? Darling, where in Faerǔn have you gone off to? Come upstairs, quickly now!”

With some difficulty she swallowed those words while curiosity unfroze her legs. With only a moment more of hesitation, she bounded up the steps, the top of the stairs revealing one, large open chamber. Dimly lit, she could just make out the walls lined from floor to ceiling with books upon books of varying color and size.

Her heart fluttered as she spotted him, Gale, standing at the center of this room as though he were a fixture in it. His back was to her, facing two heavy curtains on the far wall. His brown hair was pulled back into a half knot, the rest brushing the shoulders of a fine jewel-blue vest, emblazoned with spiraling golden runes. Hearing her footfalls he looked over his shoulder with a delighted grin and beckoned her to him, leading her by the hand to the thick hanging curtains.

“The time is nearly upon us,” he said cryptically, almost in a whisper.

“What are we doing?” Hecate breathed conspiratorially.

Holding the curtains so Hecate couldn’t glance past him, he peeked quickly between then closed them again, anticipation and delight dancing about him.

“You’ll see. Are you ready? It should be just about….there!”

With a flourish he threw open the curtains, revealing the setting sun framed squarely by the rail and roof of the balcony. With a soft touch on her arm, he turned Hecate back to face the room and she gasped, stunned by the sight of the evening glow limning the spines of thousands of books in brilliant gold. A gorgeous grand piano, now revealed by the sun, began to play softly, and Hecate felt as though she had stumbled into some holy chapel, reverence and awe settling into her as she surveyed the scene.

Hecate gaped openly for a moment until Gale snorted softly and Hecate realized with a blush he wasn’t even looking at the room, his brown eyes meeting hers when she glanced his way. He stepped closer, touching his forehead to her temple and wrapping a hand around her waist. She leaned into him, still awestruck by the size and beauty of the library; of this room that was nothing if not the embodiment of Gale’s soul. Shyly her tail hugged around his calf and she turned her face towards his, her fingers tracing the faint lines of gray in the hair above his ears. He breathed a smile and then…

“Mister Dekarios!”

Hecate’s bones nearly ejected from her skin as Tara flapped through the open balcony doors. Hecate’s tail spiraled off of Gale’s leg so quickly that it almost pulled his foot out from under him. With a yelp he staggered to attention facing the tressym who had perched on the balcony railing.

“Tara!” Gale exclaimed, much like a schoolboy caught with his hand in the cookie tin.

Tara sniffed, eyeing them both haughtily.

“Good heavens Mister Dekarios, I very much would have appreciated forewarning of your arrival. As great a wizard as you are, I do not believe this feat to be beyond you.” Gale opened his mouth to respond but Tara wasn’t finished,

“And would you look at the state you are in! Traveling for weeks in a cramped carriage, why you must be exhausted. Pleased to make your acquaintance again Hecate, my dear, a pleasure indeed. Now, would you not agree to a certain level of lassitude as would befit a journey such as yours?”

Hecate blinked, startled at being so suddenly addressed. Her gaze flicked toward Gale in a mild panic who mimed bags under his eyes and sleeping, jerking back to inspecting his own fingernails when Tara glared his way.

“I…ah…yeah?” Hecate stammered, still not entirely positive what ‘latitude’ meant. She’d look it up later.

Tara simply sniffed and regarded Gale again with a flick of her wings,

“I thought as much. Well, be that as it may, your repose must wait. You have a visitor Mister Dekarios, I’ve seen him to the first floor lounge. He has been plied with tea but I would not keep him waiting long. I bid you both a good evening.” With a twitch of her tail, Tara leapt from the railing and beat her wings, carrying her aloft to the windows of the upper levels.

Gale and Hecate looked at each other for exactly one second before dissolving into laughter.

“I swear she’d still cut the crust off of your sandwiches if she thought she could bully you into it,” Hecate gasped between giggles.

“More the fool, you,” Gale wheezed, “Didn’t bet on having two mother-in-laws, did you?”

Hecate groaned, “Oh Hells. Will you dance with her at the reception?”

Gale let out a loud “Ha”, wiping a tear from his eye, “As though she would give me a choice?” Still chuckling he leaned forward and pecked a kiss onto Hecate’s forehead, right between her spiraled horns, before drawing the curtains and plunging the library into darkness. It only lasted for a moment, however, as several magelight lanterns flicked on as soon as the sunlight vanished, much to Hecate’s delight.

“Well. Shall we see who has come to call? You can leave your belongings here, the porter will bring everything up to our apartment in due course.”

He held his hand out as though seeking to escort her. Hecate chewed her lip again, hesitant to leave the entirety of her worldly possessions unattended; but with a sigh she acquiesced, setting it to the side before taking Gale’s arm, the gesture causing her to grin despite her misgivings.

“Alright. Lead the way Mister Dekarios.”

Nose stuck high in the air, Gale ponced over to the staircase, stopping only when Hecate jabbed a finger into his belly, right where she knew it tickled the most, and he deflated into laughter like a parade balloon.

He lead the way down the stairs, cutting to the right at the bottom and making his way through one of the many doors into a powder blue room, bedecked with ostentatious and, Hecate thought, rather uncomfortable-looking furniture. The upholstery was pristine, complimenting the room with a rich blue brocade. Exquisite baroque detailing adorned the inner walls and ceiling and if Hecate felt out of place in the foyer, this room easily doubled that sensation.

Tripling the sensation was the visitor, a high elf, sat primly on the edge of a chair, sipping at his china cup as though he might choke on anything but exactly three drops of tea. His long, red-blond hair cascaded over his shoulders in a perfect, shimmering sheet. It blended beautifully with his red silk tang suit, the high collar emphasizing his delicate neck. Golden toggles flashed in the magelight as he turned to regard them.

“Gale Dekarios, as I live and breathe,” he said, his voice unfairly melodic.

Gale smiled deferentially, leaning forward to greet the newcomer, pressing his cheek to his, first on the right and then on the left in a friendly gesture before stepping to the side, holding his arm out toward Hecate,

“Ashmead! How lovely to see you again. It has been too long. Please, allow me to introduce my lovely fiancé. This is Hecate. Hecate, this is Ashmead, one of my oldest school friends.”

“Oh, shit! A trouble maker-in-arms, then?” Hecate grinned.

“Ah—well…no actually. I managed to do that all on my own,” Gale ducked his head with chagrin. “No, Ashmead here was the picture of perfection at Blackstaff.”

“Mm,” Hecate hummed, leaning in and lowering her voice conspiratorially, “Don’t worry, I won’t hold that against you. Pleased to meet you.”

Hecate stepped forward with a smile, hand outstretched. Ashmead raised his in response and Hecate grasped it firmly. The elf’s hand remained limp however, as though he had been expecting a mere brush of the fingers or, perhaps even a kiss on the knuckles? Whatever the case, Hecate immediately loosened her grip with a blush, holding his hand awkwardly for a moment before letting go and stepping back slightly behind Gale as though he might shield her from making any more blunders.

Ashmead regarded her with a stiff smile,

“A pleasure, of course.” He returned to his teacup, his arm moving slow and graceful as though through water; it made Hecate feel bulky by comparison.

Gale pulled out a chair and nodded toward it with a welcoming smile. Hecate obliged him, sitting as daintily as she could muster, forming the mental image of sitting on an egg. Once she was settled he drew up a chair for himself and set to pouring himself a cup of tea, only after Hecate declined. Ashmead observed them both for a spell before setting his cup down with a sigh.

“You’ve been quite a hard man to see, Gale. First holing up here, taking no visitors, then vanishing at the drop of a hat. I must admit, I wondered if you would ever return from your…camping trip.” His nose wrinkled slightly on ‘camping trip’ as though he could smell the distasteful idea of it. Hecate scowled slightly but Gale merely chuckled,

“Believe it or not I find myself missing it sometimes, if I don’t think about it very hard,” he said with a laugh. “Now don’t miss my meaning, I don’t know that I would ever rough it just for the fun, but there’s a certain…camaraderie to it that you just can’t find anywhere else…” He trailed off, eyes catching on Hecate’s and his smile warmed her despite her unease.

Ashmead sniffed, dispelling the moment.

“Quite. Well I do hope you’ve been keeping up with your reading at least. There have been several utterly fascinating new editions this year. I just finished ‘A Study of Spores and their Supraterranean Effects’. I have it here. Sven is a brilliant mind even if his methods are…questionable.”

He passed the book to Gale who skimmed through key sections, eyes flickering side to side rapidly, brows furrowed in concentration.

“Questionable? He’s conducting experiments without consent! That’s downright reprehensible—“

“Yes but look at what his efforts uncovered,” Ashmead interrupted. “Distillation methods, potential therapeutic applications—“ Gale snapped the book shut and handed it back to Ashmead, shaking his head,

“I don’t think it’s wise to support this kind of experimentation. I dearly hope it is not being added to the curriculum at Blackstaff, I must have a word with the Dean…”

“Don’t act so rashly, Gale. None of his test subjects came to any real harm. Besides, he has an entire line of studies that you would be a fool to ignore. In fact, there’s one you might like,” he said, nodding toward Hecate who snapped back to attention from the glazed-over daydream she had been lost in. “It’s called ‘Of Cambions and Cornugons: a Study of the Hells’. Have you read it? Truly riveting.”

Hecate stared, frozen between baffled and livid. She was used to thinly veiled comments on her Tiefling heritage but she had not been prepared for it here.

“Why would she…”Gale started, bemused, but cut off when he saw the look on Hecate’s face and she could almost hear the gears whirring in his head as he tried to piece together what had just happened.

Slowly Hecate stood, gaze leaden on Ashmead,

“Actually I would like to hear the answer to that question. Why would I like this book?”

She’d give him the benefit of the doubt, but only the once.

Ashmead blinked, staring at her as though she had asked him the most foolish question in the world.

“Why, because of your devil blood of course—“

Gale stood up so quickly his chair nearly tipped over, the legs making a horrible screech that Hecate pettily hoped had scratched the floor…just a little. She held up a hand, stalling whatever Gale was going to say, her eyes never leaving Ashmead’s. She smiled but it was chilly and too perfect to be genuine.

“I apologize. Gale and I have just arrived from quite a long trip. We appreciate your visit but I must insist we take some time to unpack and rest. May I see you to the door?”

Ashmead’s eyes widened, and he looked at Gale as though to see if he was going to allow this to happen. Gale merely nodded his head toward Hecate, deferring to her with one, small gesture that braced her as surely as his arms around her.

With a wounded sniff, Ashmead rose and plied them each with the smallest of bows before bidding them farewell and sweeping out, brushing past Hecate as he went. Hecate didn’t realize she had been holding her breath until she heard the front door slam shut. Gale was at her side in an instant, fingers tucking her hair behind her ear, cupping her cheeks in his palms.

“I am so, deeply sorry my love. I didn’t think…had I known…” Hecate quieted his stuttering, placing her hand over his and resting her head more fully in his palms.

“It’s alright. Well…no it’s not, but it’s nothing I’m not used to. I’m just…tired…” Hecate stopped, acutely aware of the prickling at the corners of her eyes. Mortified she ducked her head. Crying over one idiot? Gods she must be more exhausted than she thought…

A finger at her chin, a gentle pressure that lifted her glassy eyes up from the floor. He gazed at her, into her, eyes so soft it was almost painful. Hecate could feel those words again, burning like bile in her throat,

“I don’t belong here…do I?” she choked out.

Gale didn’t answer immediately. Instead he drew her to him, one hand around the small of her back, the other pressing her head to his shoulder and stroking her hair.

Hecate grit her teeth,

“Finery and riches…shit, Gale, that’s not where I live, that’s what I take. I’m not supposed to be here. I belong in some dungeon somewhere, cussing at a door and breaking my lockpicks…”

Gale snorted.

“I know,” he finally said. “That’s the Hecate I fell in love with, after all. You wear dirt and grime so beautifully…but you also wear fine things well too.” He pulled back so his gaze could find hers again.

“You belong here because you belong with me, and I with you. If this place doesn’t suit right now, it’s because it was a home and a life built around a lonely, privileged bachelor who couldn’t have ever dreamed of finding someone like you.” He placed his forehead to hers familiarly.

“I don’t want to return to my old life, I want it to be better. And it will be because you’re here.” He smiled and placed a soft kiss on the tip of her nose.

“In addition, consider this: I am not married to this place. I’m marrying you. If we need to make our home somewhere else, it can be done. Though I do not envy whoever has to move that library because I’m going to be insufferable about it…” Hecate laughed, and it felt good. Gale chuckled as well. Then he leaned forward but stopped short so his mouth hovered just barely over hers, breathing a small laugh when Hecate shifted forward for the kiss that wasn’t there and scowled at him.

“You’re everything. Don’t ever forget that,” he whispered. Then his lips brushed against hers, so soft they could have merely been a breath. A low, growled noise rose in his chest and suddenly his kiss pressed into her, deeper and more insistent as though he could restrain himself no longer. One hand snaked around her lower back, pulling her to him with more force than he seemed capable of, pressing her to him. Her stomach clenched with a needful burn as his tongue licked boldly past her teeth and her fingers curled into his hair, completely ruining the half-knot. Neither of them cared.

He kissed her again and again between wide grins, eliciting a giggle when he spun her around. Finally they broke apart, falling into a comfortable embrace, Gale rocking them back and forth soothingly. After a silent moment he huffed,

“What an absolute bastard.”

“Mm,” Hecate mumbled into his chest. “To quote Lae’zel—Chk, Istik.”

“Oh I see you have been diligently studying your Githyanki.”

“I’m so glad you noticed. I know a noise of irritation and one whole insulting word.”

Gale chuckled, “I am fairly certain that means you’re fluent. Regardless, I still have half a mind to call Ashmead back here. Make him apologize…”

Hecate laughed, then reached into her pocket, dancing something small and shining between her fingers.

“That’s okay. I took his house key. Assmeat will have to come back for it. He can apologize then.”

Gale stared for the briefest of moments before dissolving into laughter, nearly collapsing into Hecate’s arms.

“I can not believe you called him Assmeat. How did no one think of that at school?”

“Because while you were pretending at being a twelve-year-old boy I actually am one.” Hecate grinned.

“I can’t argue with that,” Gale chuckled, his thumb stroking softly against her cheek. He bent down, his nose brushing against the side of her neck and slowly he trailed a column of kisses along its length.

“Alright ‘Future Missus Dekarios’,” she could hear the grin in his voice, “Shall we adjourn? There are things I want to do to you right now that are hardly appropriate for this room.”

“What the hell is appropriate for this room?” Hecate waggled her eyebrows.

“An excellent point. I can think of only one thing—“

And with a quick twist he hooked his arms under her legs, hoisting her up into the air and against his chest. Hecate giggled with delight and tucked her tail safely over his shoulder before pointing toward the staircase,

“Onward porter! Or be thee limp in leg as well as in spirit?”

Gale head-butted her playfully which turned into an affectionate nuzzling match between them which further devolved into Gale covering her face in as many kisses as he possibly could without dropping her. Then, with a tip of his head, a glowing dimension door opened beside them and one step took them through, the faint echo of ‘That’s cheating!’ ringing across the opulent foyer as the door closed behind them and vanished.

****

Bonus scene:

*Gale is letting Tara edit his wedding vows*

Tara: Mister Dekarios perhaps consider a comma in this section, you do like to go on.

Tara: Hecate, dear, would you not agree that Mister Dekarios is rather severely afflicted with verbosity?

Hecate: ….does that mean a lot of words?

Tara: Yes my dear.

Hecate: Ah…yeah, he’s pretty verb-city.

*Tara dies a little inside. Gale sincerely tries to explain the meaning of verbosity complete with word root and origin. Hecate is done with her speech already, it’s three sentences, Gale loves it.*

[thesugarclubs-blog]

Midnight - AU Bucky Barnes x OC

warnings: enemies to lovers, frat boy Bucky, arguing, smut - 18+

word count: 11.2k

WP: https://www.wattpad.com/1301263156-midnight-lola

Masterlist

“You’re going to have to loosen up a bit,” Kate grinned behind her glass, “no one likes a stuffy boss.” 

Lola rolled her eyes, busing herself with the charcuterie board she spent way too much time trying to perfect. 

“Lucky for us, I’m nobody’s boss.”

Her friend huffed, “quit being dramatic. You’re still in charge, just not…” 

“Please,” Lola interrupted, “do not say it. out. loud.” 

The last eight hours had been the most humiliating hours of her life. 

She paced her office. Wearing a track into the dark gray carpet. You’ve got this. You’re going to be great. You’ve earned this. Lola kept repeating over and over in her head. CEO was a big title and right now, her name was the front-runner for the spot. 

Lola jumped at the sound of a knock on her office door, followed by Kate’s head poking through the crack, “You ready? Everyone is gathering in the pit.” 

She sucked in a breath, smoothing down the maroon sweater dress she picked out for this moment, “It’s normal to wanna puke right?” 

Kate laughed, bringing a smile to her own face, “You’ll be fine,” she paused, her eyes tracking Lola’s body, “but don’t puke on that dress, I want to borrow it next week.” Tossing her a wink, she linked her arm with Lola's, pulling her from the office. 

They made their way to the pit. A collection of cubicles at the bottom of a grand staircase led to the most prestigious offices. That were big enough to live in. It was her time for one of them. 

“Alright, everyone! Thank you so much for joining us this morning.” Stephen Strange smiled at the sea of employees in front of him as he stood front and center on the staircase, “As you all may have heard, it’s time for me to relinquish control of this ship.” 

Lola’s eyes fell onto the one man who with one look dug under her skin. His smug smile was firm under the sharp cheekbones and stubble. The navy blue suit he wore was pressed and strained against the hidden muscles of his biceps and forearms. The shiny metal of his left hand complimented the blue.

“Why is he up there?” Kate’s hushed voice pulled her from her thoughts. 

She shrugged. Maybe he was getting fired in front of the entire company. That would be a sight. 

“This person has truly proved and earned their way in taking care of this company, so without further adieu, I would like to introduce you to your new CEO,” 

“Holy shit,” Kate muttered, Lola’s eyes dragging to her friend and colleague. Her brows knitted together in confusion. 

“Wh–” 

“James Barnes!” 

The applause erupted around her as her heart thumped in her chest. Her brain took a moment to catch up and as it did, she spun back toward the two men. Crystal blue eyes bore into her, the same smug grin she wanted to smack off of his stubbled face plastered like horrible graffiti against his toned skin. 

“You’ve gotta be fu–” 

“Uhh.. hello?” Kate’s hand waved in front of her face, “Earth to Lola, you’re doing that thing again.” She said sipping her drink once more, “your eyes are all glossy and you’re staring off into space.” 

“Well can you blame me?” Lola snapped, instantly regretting the outburst as she saw the hurt flash across her friend’s face.  “Sorry,” she winced.

“Look, I know it hurts but you gotta put your game face on,” Kate reassured with a gentle hand on her arm. “Everyone’s been looking forward to your party for weeks and there’s no way you’re gonna give that asshole Barnes the satisfaction of knowing he’s got to you.”

Kate walked around the island with another glass of wine in her hand.

“Get this down, lighten up, and enjoy the night!”

Lola smiled tightly and nodded, but when Kate wasn’t looking she switched out her drink for sparkling water, putting it in a glass with a few ice cubes and a lime wedge. There was no way she was letting her guard down tonight, especially not in front of that snake.

As they joined the rest of their coworkers who were enjoying their time, surrounded by music, eating finger foods, and drinking their troubles away. In her peripheral vision, she saw the bane of her existence at the bar smugly boasting about his new position. 

"Kate, I don't think I can do this." She breathed in her best friend's ear while clutching her hand for dear life.

"Yes, you can. Be the badass I know you are." Kate squeezed her friend's hand, before wandering into the crowd to mingle with their coworkers. 

Lola took a deep breath, and cleared her throat, as she plastered a smile onto her face and followed suit. Greeting her guests, and enjoying the company around her. Bucky Barnes was only one person, and he was not ruining this for her. Her company's New Years' party was the staple of the year and it was her favorite night. Despite that man taking attention to himself, Lola knew it would die down once the actual stress of the job got to him, something she also knew he couldn't handle. That fact alone made a smirk cross her lips as she sauntered to the living room and over to the group of men. 

"Hello, gentlemen! Enjoying yourselves?" She asked, taking a sip from her glass. 

"Came over to congratulate me, did ya, Anderson?" Bucky smirked. 

Sucking in a deep breath, Lola turned her gaze to meet his, "I believe I greeted gentlemen Barnes, and last time I checked you don't fall under that category." 

A muffle of snickers came from the other men as Sam clapped Bucky on the shoulder, "she's got you there," he laughed.

Bucky grunted and drained his glass of champagne. Lola brought in the good stuff, even if she wasn’t drinking tonight, she wanted everyone else to enjoy it, maybe rave about her party for a good few weeks into January, preferably around Barnes — just to really get on his nerves with the constant mention of it. 

“Careful, or that’ll go straight to your head.”

“What’s it to you, Lo-la?” Bucky replied, tongue clicking against his teeth as he sounds out her name, a little patronizingly but she wouldn’t expect anything less from him. “I’m celebrating.”

Lola’s eyes narrowed, arms crossed in front of her. “Mmm yes, we’re all celebrating, that’s why we’re here.”

Bucky fake gasped and brought his hand to his chest. “You mean you did all this for me?! Aw shucks, you shouldn’t have.”

She couldn't keep the snarl off of her face. He infuriated her. Less experience, and less time at the company... he only got promoted because he was a fucking man. 

"I'm surprised you're here. I'm actually shocked that your ego fit through the doorway."

Bucky leaned forward, still wearing that shit-eating grin of his. 

"I didn't know you could be funny. You're usually such a stuck-up bitch at work."

"Only to you, Barnes." 

"That's sir to you, darlin'," he purred as his eyes lit up.

She glared at him, her heart pounding. Lola could almost see red. She wanted to grab his champagne glass and toss the drink in his face. Instead, she looked down at her claw-like fingernails, painted dark red, and clicked her tongue.

"If it's your New Year's wish to be castrated tonight, all you had to do was ask. Because if you call me that again, you'll be using your balls as ice cubes." She reached up and smacked him on the arm as hard as she could. He flinched a little and she grinned. "Have a great, night, James."

A chorus of oh’s and gasps came from the men and women who had just witnessed the interaction. Lola stormed into the kitchen, Kate and Yelena following right behind. 

“Do you WANT to lose your job, Lola??” Kate screamed at her as soon as the door shut. 

“It’s not like he didn’t deserve it.” Yelena pointed out as she popped an olive from her martini in her mouth. “I’m glad you stood up for yourself Lola”

Lola took a deep breath and looked at the spread of food that she had gotten ready for the big event. She let out a big sigh. 

“I just don’t understand how this happened. I’ve worked here longer and have had bigger accounts. Why did Mr. Strange choose frat boy Barnes over me” Lola said cutting some cheese.

Kate could only shrug in response; she had asked Mr. Strange the same thing, and the only thing he had to offer was a sort of explanation that was more sugar coated than the sugar cookie she had in her hand. 

“It just sucks you know? Because we all know nothing is going to get done now. Barnes cares more about who he’s going to bring home next than the company.” Lola ranted, waving a rolled up slice of turkey around before she brought it to her painted lips. 

“Well you aren’t wrong there,”  Kate pointed out, scoffing as she sipped her champagne.

“He’s not gonna have much fun tonight then,” Yelena observed. “Every woman here has either had him or hates him unless Francine from HR fancies a second round. I saw her eyeing his ass on the way in.”

“Ewww,” Kate shuddered.

“What?!” Protested Yelena, holding up her hands in defense. “He might be a dipshit but he’s still got a cute butt.”

The three friends eyed each other and then burst out laughing.

"Cute butt or not," she started but the static sound of a mic interrupted her. They'd gotten the karaoke machine out already and the crowd hollered in happy cheers as Lola and her two friends peeked through the door at the people gathering around. Barnes caught her eyes, a wicked gleam in his own icy ones.

"Fucking Barnes better keep it in his pants if he wants to keep that position," she angrily muttered the rest of her thought, eyeing him with disgust.

The three girls emerged from the kitchen as Lola narrowed her eyes at him and crossed her arms over her chest. The chaos from the boys didn't usually start until much later on in the night, and the way he was looking at her made Lola's stomach turn. This wasn't going to be good. 

"Everyone! Attention please" Bucky tapped the mic and kept his eyes fixed on her. "I would like to take a moment to dedicate this song to our lovely hostess - give her a round of applause everyone!" 

The room clapped and Lola pressed her lips into a thin line, nodding once at the people in the room as a thank you. The anxiety grew heavier in her chest. 

As if on queue, Copacabana rang through the speakers of the karaoke machine. Lola's head snapped back to stare at the new CEO as rage flared within her. 

"Her name was Lola, she was a showgirl..." He sang off-key, as Sam and Steve joined him, throwing their arms over his shoulders and swaying to the tune. Keys of laughter and hollers bounced around the room but the noise seemed to fade out as Lola almost bit through her cheek. "With yellow feathers in her hair.."

Yelena's hand on her arm pulled her from her trance, and she shook her head. "It's not worth it..." She whispered.

Lola couldn’t move even if she wanted to. Frozen to the spot with a fiery gaze set hard on Bucky she may as well have had plumes of angry, red smoke billowing from her ears. 

It should baffle her, how anyone would think this was the way to behave as a newly appointed CEO, openly mocking another employee. And at her own party?

Fuck this, she thought. 

And before either Kate or Yelena could stop her, her feet carried her across the room.

Lola yanked the mic out of Bucky’s hands, glaring daggers at him. He smirked at her and she whipped around, bringing the mic up to her lips. 

“At the Copa, Copacabana…” she sang to roars of approval from the audience. She kept going, literally stealing the spotlight from Bucky, turning to smirk at him when he looked at her.

Sam howled with laughter while she continued to sing the rest of the song to thunderous applause. As the music faded out and she bowed, Bucky grasped her wrist gently. She yanked it out of his grip and he grinned.

“Didn’t know you could sing either.”

“Well, you were butchering it, and it has my name on it. Just like that promotion.” She shoved the microphone against his chest.

“You know I could fire you, right?” He growled.

She grinned. 

“Then who would you get to do all your work for you?”

With that, she hopped off the stage, leaving Bucky in the dust as her co-workers chuckled and patted her on the back.

Barnes skulked back to his corner with Sam and Steve as Scott and Wanda began their duet of Islands in the Stream. His eyes never left Lola’s direction as she made her victory lap around the room. 

Lola made small talk with her team, all while nursing her glass of water. She was finally starting to relax when a choir of frat boy whoops and hollers came from the other side of her apartment. 

“WHO’S READY FOR A SHOT?!” Barnes yelled as he stood on top of a barstool, losing his balance and almost tumbling to the floor.

Lola groaned and almost facepalmed as she watched the newly appointed CEO make an absolute fool of himself. Did he have no dignity?

Whoops and hollers filled the room as most of the men all but trampled each other to the bar. 

“There is no way this is happening! Kate, have you seen Mr. Strange? He has got to be seeing this!” She yelled over the music, frustrated with the whole evening. The lack of professionalism was astonishing.

“Lola! Where’s your shot glasses?” Sam yelled, bounding up to her from across the room.

“I don’t think that’s the best…” she began but was interrupted.

“Top left cabinet in the kitchen,” Yelena grinned, grabbing Sam’s hand to help him retrieve them.

“‘Lena!” Lola said betrayal painted across her face.

“What?! I like shots OK?!” Her friend held her hands up innocently, pulling Sam off to the kitchen with a giggle.

"Well, I hope you're ready to drink your weight in alcohol then because I'm not drinking." Lola hissed at her friend, pouting as she and Sam got the shot glasses neatly stacked over each other and walked back to the bar.

Yelena cackled as she followed Sam, almost dropping the glass in her hands in her enthusiasm to turn to Lola.

"Don't worry! I'll drink for both of us!" Yelena shouted before downing her first shot of the night and Lola bit her lip to smother a laugh while shaking her head at the blonde's antics. 

Lola let out a breathy chuckle and shook her head as she topped off her water, and added a lime wedge for decoration. At least if Yelena could keep the boys occupied and enjoy herself, maybe this night wouldn't be so bad after all. 

She turned her attention back to the counter, started cleaning up a few food packages that were scattered from set up, and took a moment to take a deep breath. While this party was her favorite time of year, having a second of peace was exactly what her nerves needed after the karaoke fiasco. The shutting of her kitchen door brought her back to the present and she jumped as her gaze snapped up. 

"Jesus..." She muttered, breathing out and turning back to the counter. 

A deep chuckle left his lips as grabbed a lime from the counter and tossed it in the air, catching it with ease. "Nope, just me" Bucky smirked. 

"What do you want?" Lola spoke through gritted teeth. 

"Salt..." He grinned. 

Lola bit the inside of her cheek, and opened the cupboard next to her head, grabbing the salt and shoving it out to him. "Please don't destroy my house like you're about to destroy the company. Some of us actually have things we care about," she smirked. 

Bucky swiped his tongue along his bottom lip as he eyed her, taking the salt from her fingers. "You know, you'd be much prettier if you smiled more" He snipped before backing out of the kitchen.

“Maybe I’d be smiling more if you weren’t such a jackass,” Lola mumbled to herself, cleaning the last of the trash and rejoining the party. 

She stood observing the room for a moment, sipping at her water. Thor and Bruce were murdering Don’t Stop Me Now, being cheered on by a couple of colleagues waiting for their go at karaoke, Kate was huddled with Scott and Clint amid an in-depth conversation and at the center of it all, was Bucky Barnes, licking salt off Yelena’s cheek. 

If Lola noticed his tongue and the sheer size of it against her friend’s cheek, she pushed the thought from her mind with a shudder and instead watched on as Bucky tipped back the shot, shoved a wedge of lime between his teeth and passed it from his mouth to Sharon’s. And then, as if he knew Lola was watching, he dared to wink at her.

She fumed, hands clenched into fists at her side, mentally telling herself that punching a wall in her own apartment was not a good idea. Lola turned her back on Bucky, determined to do anything but look at that face for another second. She could still hear him though, cheering on Yelena. 

“Hey Lola, you did great with the song,” Sam said as he came up to her, and the sounds from behind her abruptly stopped as she replied. 

“Thanks, Sam, couldn’t let you boys have everything,” she said, half joking, and he winced.

"Hey, I'm... I'm really sorry that Barnes got that promotion over you."

"Yeah, well, not as sorry as he's gonna be if he keeps pushing my-" she stopped herself. She couldn't say too much. Sam, Bucky, and Steve were tight. It was how Bucky got the job in the first place. "Sorry. Thank you, Sam. I appreciate the kind words."

"You know, for what it's worth, I think you were more qualified than Buck anyway. By miles."

The comment made her smile for the first time in what felt like hours. She swallowed the lump in her throat, but her eyes remained dry by sheer force of will and spite. She was powered by it tonight. She nodded and whispered a soft thank you as Sam patted her on the back and headed toward the bar.

"Hey, Lola!" Bucky called. "C'mere!" 

Venom filled her veins at the sound of his voice. A snarl erupted from the depths of her throat like lava and her head slowly turned, flashing Bucky the most murderous stare she could muster, a stare that was only reserved for him. But all he did was smile right back at her. Smug bastard, she thought.

"Can I help you, James?" She ground out the words as though her back teeth were chiseling her rage into a verbal blade. 

Bucky raised a shot glass.

"A peace offering! Come on!"

As rage burned in her chest, she mustered the most sickeningly sweet smile she could manage, all while keeping her gaze poisonous and laser focused on him. Homicide was okay sometimes, right?

"Unlike you, I left my college days behind me. But thank you so very much for the offer."

“Were you a stone-cold bitch in college too or is that part of your career development plan? Because if it’s the latter it’s not really working out for you, is it?” Barnes threw back, flashing another sparkling grin as he passed off the shot glass to Simon from finance.

“I’m going to fucking-“

“Nope. Nuh-uh. You’re gonna stay right here and cool off a little,” said Sam, stopping her with a gentle hand around her bicep and a shake of his head.

“He’s my friend and even I know he’s not worth losing your job over.”

“I’m not convinced,” Lola snarled through gritted teeth.

She saw Sam trying to hold his laughter in as he pulled her gently to the side and stood directly in her eye line of sight to block the view of his infuriating friend from her as she tried to rein in her rage. 

She felt her eyes get hot and her face flushed as she thought about how unfair it was how things turned out; she was there first, she worked more and she worked ten times harder than he ever did and all she got was the proverbial pat on the back while the frat boy got promoted.

"Just get him to back the hell off, okay?! Or I'm kicking him out!" Lola seethed while Sam nodded to try to appease her. Meanwhile, there were more hollers and she saw him flip two bottles in the air before pouring a line of ten shot glasses at once.

fucking show off!

"It's my party. My house." Lola said with finality before turning away from Sam and towards the balcony. 

"Lola..." She heard him call after her, as she stepped out to get some fresh air. 

This was exactly what she didn't want. Bucky Barnes ruining the best night of the year. It was typical of him though. Making everything about himself, and getting by on charm and good looks. God, she hated him and everything he stood for. How could someone like that even begin to run a whole company? How could Strange ever think this was a good idea? Maybe she should start sprucing up her resume. The company would be toast within the month. 

"Where'd you scamper off to, Lola-Bunny?" His deep voice came from behind her. 

Lola groaned, and spun around, placing her hands on her hips. "What do you want now? Am I not allowed to have one second of peace away from you and your cohort of supporters?" 

"Look, I don't know what you think I did..." 

"Nothing Barnes! You did nothing! You do nothing. And that's just the problem." Lola snipped, rage bubbling in her chest. "Just go back to your mindless followers, and leave me the hell alone" She pushed past him and headed back inside, plastering another soft smile onto her face as she joined a group of her coworkers.

“You okay?” Kate asked, catching Lola’s arm and pulling her close, seeing right through her perfected fake smile. “Yep. I am not gonna let that stupid, air-headed bastard ruin my own party. Calling me fucking cutesy nicknames and—“ “And you’re doing a great job of it!” Kate beamed with all the conviction she could and was not the least bit subtle with it. “Hey, wanna dance with me? Loosen up a bit?” 

Lola sighed, she might as well try to enjoy herself. Midnight was nearing closer and with every brooding glance she caught from Bucky, she couldn’t wish the year over quickly enough.

“Yeah alright,” she muttered, and let Kate drag her into the small crowd dancing in the open space. Kate held Lola’s hands, moving her arms back and forth until she cracked a smile. 

“There we go!” Kate yelled, releasing Lola as she began dancing on her own. She let herself get lost in the music, the beats thumping through her and amping her up. 

A hand on her wrist spun her around, pulling her into a broad chest. “Ugh! Leave me alone Barnes!” she said, pushing at him. "Lola, please--"

"Let me go," she commanded. 

He stepped back as her eyes met his. Kate grasped her wrist and tugged at it. But it was the look in Bucky's eyes that made her feel a storm of anger and guilt that began to swirl quickly. He bit his lip and then turned on his heel.

"Was that your apology, Barnes?" She called over the music, "because you suck at it."

"Lola," Kate warned. "Chill out. You're treading on thin ice."

He stopped in his tracks and slowly turned his head, the icy glare that she shot at him earlier was coming back to haunt her, and for the first time, she was afraid. Her heart pounded against her ribs so hard that she could almost feel them cracking.

"Why don't you take Kate's advice, Lola?" His tone was cold and measured. "There's a reason people talk shit about you behind your back." 

That was the needle that broke the camel's back. 

“Fuck you, Barnes. At least I didn’t get where I am by schmoozing the boss and sleeping with any person with a vagina.” Lola spat, Kate stared wide-eyed as Bucky stood with an unreadable expression on his face. 

“You know what, since everyone likes you so much more than me, you finish out my party at my house. Happy New Year “Boss”.” Lola let the sarcasm flow through her words as she threw her hands up and began to storm out of the living room, pushing through the crowd to get to the hallway that lead to her bedroom. 

Anger and hurt brewed in her belly but she was resolved to not spill any tears for the fucker who had ruined her whole year in less than twelve hours.

Closing the door behind her and leaning against it Lola let out a big breath. She had let her anger get the better of her and she knew she was going to have to do a lot of apologizing, but that could wait until tomorrow. Suddenly there was a knock on her door. Kate or Yelena must have followed her. 

She opened the door and came face to face with the one person she really did not want to talk to.

"What are you doing here, Barnes? Haven't you done enough damage ?" Lola asked as she let her eyes wander over Bucky's face. Those blue eyes of his encountered hers with a soft smirk on his lips he opened his mouth to speak.

"Look, Lola," an apologetic sigh left his lips. 

"This can go two ways. We can try and work together and somewhat get along or we can keep up whatever this." Bucky's eyes softened as he waited for her to say something.

“You talk like there’s an actual conversation to be had,” Lola scoffed. “There isn’t.”

She moved to close the door on him but it wouldn’t budge. Glancing down her anger blazed as she saw his foot blocking her from shutting him out.

“I hope that’s a fucking joke Barnes because I will chop it the fuck off if you don’t remove it right now!” She seethed.

"Why won't you hear me out?!" He exclaimed pushing the door further open making her take a step away from him as boiling anger rolled off both of them in stifling waves.

"What is there to hear?!" Lola fired back as he came closer to her, invading her personal space and baring his teeth in anger while her voice pitched higher with every word.

"You did nothing to deserve this! NOTHING! It should have been me but nooo, you men are always afraid of women being in charge." She spat out in his face, the words thrown like venom toward him.

"And you have the balls to come into my house and make fun of me?! How is that fair? Huh?" Lola shook her head before taking a step back from him so she could breathe, her lungs suddenly deprived of oxygen, "am I supposed to just welcome the insults? Is that what you want me to hear?" She questioned mockingly before she turned her back to him hoping he would take the hint and leave her be.

Bucky huffed and took a step back, hurt flashing in his eyes at her words, but Lola didn't care. Maybe it was better to just get this out in the open. He could have fired her three times that night, but for some reason, he still seemed to want to have this conversation. So she was going to have it. 

Lola took his arm and pulled him further into the room as she moved to shut the door completely. It was obvious that everyone knew how angry she was, but she didn't want to embarrass herself any more than she already had in front of everyone she worked with. 

Spinning on her heel, and crossing her arms over her chest, Lola ran her tongue over her bottom lip and stared at the man in front of her. "Fine. You want me to hear you out. Speak." 

Bucky ran his hand through his hair and shrugged his shoulders, "I'm sorry I got the promotion over you. Believe it or not, I was just as shocked as you are" 

"Doubtful" She grumbled. 

"Lola, I was just trying to have fun tonight, I didn't want to hurt you with any of this" He sighed. 

She couldn't stop the eye roll or the sigh as it left her chest. "I'm glad bugging me, and embarrassing me is fun for you"

“Lola, it’s not—“ Bucky cut himself off and the downright sad puppy look in his eyes almost made Lola want to listen. Almost. 

“It’s not what, Barnes? You’re acting like you’re still in fucking college, drinking like you’re graced with the ability to wake up feeling peachy keen unlike the rest of us. Like your God’s gift to the earth.” 

“I’m not drunk, Lola. I haven’t… I’m not drinking. And I really am sorry that you weren’t promoted, what— tell me what you want me to do to make up for it and I’ll do it. I hate seeing you so upset over this.” 

Lola eyed him incredulously, studying him. As her eyes fell to his chest, she realized she’d gone back to clutching his shirt in her anger and she pulled away as if she’d been burned. 

“What do you mean you’re not drinking? I saw you. The champagne, the shots…” 

“It was water,” Bucky admitted sheepishly. “I swapped everything I drank, I do actually like to keep my wits about me.”

Lola eyed him suspiciously. “Uh huh so… you didn’t know about the promotion and you’re not drinking. Anything else would you like to lie about?”

Something shifted in Bucky’s eyes, sending a shiver up Lola’s spine. He moved with purpose and backed her into the room more, her hand went behind her to give her a little space between her back and the wall. 

“The playboy is just an act. I’m actually very selective with my bedroom partners.” Barnes had pulled himself to his full weight, looking down on Lola, the words filling the small gap he had left between them.

“Somehow I find that difficult to believe Mr. Barnes” Lola spoke fixing her gaze with his, trying her best to keep her breathing steady. He smirked at her his eyes flickering down over her body and slowly lifting back up.

Something intense was burning in his eyes and it made her breath catch in her throat. 

"Believe it or not, Lola. I'm not the villain." 

"Well, you aren't Prince Charming either." Lola bit out. 

No matter how angry she was something was pulling her to him and she didn't like that one bit.

"You've made that very clear." His voice dropped to a husky tone that fueled the fire in her belly. Originally from the rage in her chest but now forming into something that sent a chill down her spine. 

Bucky took a step closer to her, forcing the gap between her and the wall to close forcing her to press a hand to his chest. Her fingers curled against what she could only describe as marble under his suit. His cologne swarmed around her, the scent of coffee and cinnamon filled her nostrils making her dizzy. 

"What can I do to make things right between us Lola?" He asked in an almost whisper, pulling her back to reality. 

Shaking her head, she met his eyes, "There's nothing you can do to make things right, Barnes." Lola admitted, exhausted from fighting with him. 

His tongue flicked over his bottom lip, tracking along the plush pink feature as he glanced up at the wall behind her. Bucky narrowed his eyes for a brief moment as if he was contemplating his next move only making her that much more curious. 

"Hmm," he hummed, crystal blue eyes tracking down to her own again, "will you at least let me try?"

She flicked her eyes downwards as she curled her finger around a button on his shirt, working it open just enough for her to press one sharp, manicured finger into the hard expanse of his chest.

“What you’re gonna do…” she purred, shoving her nail into him. “Is back,” she gave him another shove, “the fuck,” shove, “off,” shove. 

“And get the hell away from me. I don’t know what kinda charm you think you have Barnes, but it’s gonna take far more than one flicker of those baby blues and a swipe of that tongue across those oh-so-pink lips of yours for me to forget what a complete ass you really are.” She scoffed.

“Try harder.”

He'd only moved a little bit away from her. She could try with all her might but Lola was smaller in size compared to the broad wall of muscles that was James Barnes. 

Even if she felt like she could breathe again with the distance between them, his expression turning smug was enough to make her stomach drop as his lips lifted in an arrogant smirk.

"So you've thought about my eyes long enough to say they're a baby blue shade?" He questioned, voice dropping an octave lower to mess with her head as he gave her the best puppy dog eyes he could muster.

"Would you forgive me if I were to beg you with these eyes?" 

Lola tried to swallow past the lump forming in her throat, the thought of him begging doing wonders to her ego but she didn't dare utter a response. Wary of how this could be another cruel joke he's playing on her.

He took a step closer, dropping his face lower to catch her eyes.

"Maybe I can earn your forgiveness with my lips?"

Lola's bottom lip found a home between her teeth as she watched him carefully. Of course, this would be his response. Trying to charm her and get her into bed. So what if it was working? He was going to have to work a whole hell of a lot harder than just batting his eyes and licking his perfectly plump lips. Her back found the wall behind her as Bucky continued to move slowly towards her, placing his large metal hand on the wall beside her head. 

Her eyebrow raised in response, and she clicked her tongue, "You really think I'd make it that easy for you?" She scoffed, as the corner of her lips turned upwards. "Try again, sweetheart" 

A deep chuckle escaped Bucky's chest, as he nodded once. He took a deep breath, and sank to his knees in front of Lola, "Tell me what you want..." He smirked up at her through his lashes. "What you need from me, to make you forgive me"

She tried not to think about how good he looked on the floor. This big, brooding, dumb man on his knees for her. Looking up at her like she hung the stars in the sky. 

“Get up, Barnes.” 

A large hand clamped around her ankle, the warm one, all long fingers and rough skin wrapped around her like he’d done it a million times before. She gasped as Bucky lifted her foot, her dress rucking up as his other hand meandered lazily up her calf. 

“Bucky…” 

“Don’t make me beg, sweetheart.” He dipped his head, pressing a kiss to her shin and Lola’s stomach swooped at the feel of his lips. Softer than they should be, more tender than Bucky should be capable of being. 

“Don’t push it, Bucky. You’re on thin ice and I don’t—“

The words died on her lips as Bucky’s tongue runs over her skin. Warm and wet and— fuck, he’s infuriatingly talented at the art of persuasion.

“Please,” he whispered, lips against her skin, fingers smoothing up and down the bottom of her foot, trailing up her leg to rest behind her knee. 

“Please…” he whispered again, pressing his forehead to her shin. “I- just…Please,” he begged, and tilted his head back, eyes wide and shimmering. 

Lola felt some of her strong walls crumble. “Fine. You want forgiveness? You’d better hope your lips are up to the task,” she glowered down at him and he started to rise. “Uh uh, down boy. I’m getting used to you on your knees, it’s a much better look than the asshole-fratboy one.” 

Bucky just barely flushed before looking down but Lola saw and grinned. “Nope, eyes on me Barnes.”

He gazed up at her, his eyes were nearly glossy with tears and black with lust.

"Yes, ma'am."

The comment caught her completely off guard and she teetered in her heels, pressing her palms against the wall until she felt like she might fall through it. Bucky smirked, that cocky asshole returning for just a second. His hands slid up and down her legs and she clenched her teeth, trying to make it seem like she wasn't enjoying it but the swarm of butterflies in her stomach was beginning to betray her. So was the deep crimson flush on her face. He tilted his head.

"You look a little unsteady. Can I help you with that?"

She held back a hiss, swallowing it along with the strange mixture of anger, bitterness, and desire that was blooming in her chest. His eyes had yet to leave hers. He was taking this seriously. Really fucking seriously. He dipped his head and bowed down, only tearing his eyes away for a moment as he kissed the toe of her heel, and then up and down one ankle. And then the other. He glanced back up.

"Can I take these off of you, Lola?" The words melted off of his tongue like warm honey and her throat clenched. She moved her mouth to speak, but nothing came out. Bucky grinned. "I need to hear you say yes."

"Yes." The word lept from her lips before she could stop it. 

She lifted her foot and watched with her breath caught in her chest as he delicately slid one heel off before pressing his lips to the inside arch. Her heart pounded and she felt dizzy as he placed it back down and repeated the same action. Bucky stared up at her, his tongue dragging across his bottom lip.

"I'm yours tonight," he rumbled. "Let me make it right."

Lola let out a heavy breath and looked down at the man kneeling in front of her… the man that was now her boss. She reached down and gripped his chin with her hand and lifted it up just a little so she could better see his face and his eyes. 

“I don’t know Barnes… that’s a pretty tall order are you sure you’re up to the task?” She asked dragging her thumb across his bottom lip.

A low groan slipped out of his lips and she held him by his chin, watching his eyes reel from pleasure.

"I don't know sweetheart," he breathed against her thigh, "tell me how to be good for you." He groaned, dragging his teeth along the soft skin, forcing her eyes closed as her head dropped against the wall. 

This man was going to be the death of her. "Jesus," 

Cool metal slid up her other thigh, slowly pushing the fabric of her dress. "Words, Lola, I need words." 

She glared down at him tangling her fingers into his thick chestnut hair, "and I need you to do less talking and undress me," A wicked grin spread across her lips, "slowly." 

Bucky's eyes lit up, gnawing on his lip to hide his own smile, "as you wish."

Lola watched as Bucky’s gaze tracked up her body, contemplating as if he couldn’t quite decide which part of her to reveal first. 

“I know I said slowly, but we haven’t got all night.” 

“I’m just trying to do right by you, sweetheart. Want to please you, be good for you, Lola. Want you to fall apart… there’s a dance with these things and as far as I’m concerned, time doesn’t exist in here.” The words were soft, as soft as the palm making its way around the back of her thigh and settling on her ass. 

“Dress first,” Lola stated as Bucky eagerly hooked his thumb into the band of her panties, “you can earn the rest.”

He slowly let his thumb fall away, fingers instead going to the hem of her dress and traveling up to the tie at her waist, slowly pulling and unknotting it. It fell open, falling off her shoulder and revealing her lacy black bra and matching panties. Bucky groaned low in the back of his throat, eyes roving over her as she dropped the dress, letting it fall to the floor behind her. 

“Please sweetheart, can I stand?” Bucky asked and Lola nodded once, Bucky clambering to his feet and reaching for her but stopping when she placed a hand on his chest. 

“Now you,” she smirked, fingers already tugging at the buttons of his shirt, undoing them and pushing the material off his broad shoulders, eyeing them appreciatively. 

She left the shirt around his elbows, pulling at his belt and yanking open his pants, letting them fall to the floor by her dress.  “Now you can come here,” she said wiggling a finger at him as she backed up into the wall, leaning against it and grinning as he followed obediently.

"You follow directions well, Barnes," she whispered. "What changed?"

"You."

He kicked his pants to the side, leaving him only in a pair of dark blue briefs. His cock pressed against the fabric, almost painfully. Bucky leaned in to kiss her, but she pressed her finger to his lips and shook her head, clicking her tongue. She could see the disappointment in his eyes, the desire burning in them. His mouth was so painfully close to hers. All she had to do was say yes, but she liked the idea of him begging for it. For her. 

"You have to earn that, sweetheart," she whispered. He groaned, his knees buckling. "I like it when you beg."

"Please, Lola?" He breathed, his voice cracking. "Please, it's all I've been thinking about. You're so fucking beautiful."

She didn't expect this. Lola opened her mouth to speak as Bucky cupped her face in his hands.

"Well, it is almost midnight." His eyes widened and she smiled. "Show me what you've got, Barnes."

His mouth crashed against hers and instantly, the kiss became fiery and desperate. Their lips glided against one another and Bucky's tongue dove into her mouth. She whimpered. Fuck, he was a really good kisser. She was almost disappointed that he was this good at it. It meant she'd have to compliment him later. Maybe. The two of them began to whimper and his body pressed against hers as he pulled back and pressed his forehead against hers.

"I've been such a shithead to you. I'm sorry."

Her stomach dropped, but she kept her resolve.

"Then make it up to me."

“Yes ma’am,” Bucky said as his hands ran all over her body. 

Keeping perfect eye contact he slipped back down to his knees. Slowly, he started kissing up Lola’s calf.

Lola moaned softly, the noise slipping from her lips before she could stop it. His lips felt amazing against her skin, lighting tiny fires as they trailed up and down her legs and as much as she didn't want him to stop, she gently pulled her leg from his grasp. 

Bending over, pushing her breasts up as she cupped his face, "I think a little more groveling is in store for you Mr. Barnes." Gently she pressed her lips to his, taking his bottom lip between her teeth and tugging. 

The whine that fell from his lips hit straight to her core, a smile forming on her face as she stood, turning and walking towards her bed swaying her hips.

Hearing him shuffle behind her, Lola looked over her shoulder, tsking him mid-stand, "Uh-uh. Down boy." 

Bucky smirked and dropped to his knees again as she spun and sat down on the edge of her bed, her legs effortlessly falling apart as she planted her palms behind her and leaned back. Her eyes tracked over his muscles, the deep cut v of his abs, the way his chest heaved with heavy breaths. He was stupidly attractive, she couldn't deny that and here he was, begging for her. 

"Crawl to me," she said breathlessly, unable to contain the lust coursing through her.

She was enjoying this, watching the way he reacted to her requests, expecting any moment for him to say no and either take what he wanted anyway or leave her high and dry. 

But to her surprise, he obliged. Staring up at her with darkened eyes and a glimmer of naive eagerness, Bucky began to crawl. He was teasing with it though, slow and seductive, making her toes curl with the very thought of what was to come.

When he stopped before her, he sat back on his heels, waiting. And Lola smirked, lifting her foot so her sole pressed to his firm chest. 

“Good boy,” she purred, and Bucky beamed at the praise.

Lola slowly let her foot come off his chest, setting it down so that her legs were spread apart, giving Bucky a view that made him gulp and whine. 

“Lola please,” he gasped, eyes flicking between her eyes and between her legs. “Lemme show you how sorry I am, wanna make you feel good, baby.”

She smirked at his desperation, enjoying his begging but deciding to finally give in. 

“Fine, but you’re gonna have to really show me some moves, impress me, Bucky,” she said, and Bucky moaned before leaning forwards and pressing his lips to her knee, slowly going up her legs. 

Bucky kissed every inch of her thighs, getting closer steadily but taking his time like he was savoring her. He finally reached between her legs, breathing deeply as he pressed a kiss to her panty-covered pussy.

She gasped as he ran his nose along her cunt and she heard him chuckle.

"What's so funny, sugar?" She asked.

He looked up, his eyes glittering. He looked like he was ready to fall apart.

"You're wet."

She smirked. She would give this one to him. Just once.

"It helps to watch my boss on his knees for me, crawling toward me, begging to fuck me... it's kind of a power trip." The words came out hardened and a little cold as he nipped at her thighs and nuzzled at her dripping cunt. Those blue eyes continued to burn into her.

All of that unresolved anger was still inside of her, but Bucky didn't seem to care. She gently grasped his hair and pulled his head back. He let out a little sob and she couldn't deny that there was something about seeing him so pathetic that made her even wetter. 

"I'll be a good boy for you, Lola. I promise."

She swallowed a moan, still not wanting to give him the satisfaction of knowing that he was the thing that was making her skin burn. Instead, she wordlessly pulled him toward her cunt and groaned the second he began to suck her clit through the fabric. His fingers dug into her thighs as he moaned into her pussy. Lola began to roll her hips against his mouth, her hand still wound in his hair. He was teasing, and she loved every second of it. 

Finally, she pulled his head back and he grinned.

"Can I rip your panties off of you?"

“Only if you buy me new ones” Lola smirks as she scraps his scalp a little more. 

“I’ll buy you a hundred pairs sweetheart,” Bucky said as he rips the flimsy lace. 

Lola groaned as the cold sensation hit her wet pussy and Bucky began to suck a bruise on her thigh.

Bucky moved to push her legs farther apart as he placed a teasing kiss on clit. Lola sucked in a deep breath, as the anger bubbled once more. He was being a tease, but she had also told him to impress her. It was a hard line to walk between needing him to just make her cum and wanting to see if he actually had it in him. 

"Mmm Bucky..." She growled, bucking her hips softly to meet his lips. 

A deep chuckle left his chest, the vibration sending a shiver through her spine. 

"Don't worry sweetheart, I've got you" He whispered, licking a strip through her wet folds, circling his tongue around her clit before taking it between his lips and sucking. "Just lay back, and let me do this for you... I need to earn your forgiveness remember?" 

She could feel him smirking into her pussy, and her breath caught in her throat. This cocky motherfucker. But as soon as she felt his tongue on her skin, she didn't care. Pleasure was clouding her mind in the best possible way.

Her arms gave out as he suddenly plunged his tongue into her, pussy clenching hard around it. Lola gasped and her hips lifted, pressing into his mouth as he began fucking his tongue in and out of her. 

“Bucky, fuck,” she murmured and he groaned, sucking at her cunt before going up to her clit, slipping two fingers inside her. A high pitched keen fell from her lips as Bucky crooked his fingers and pressed against her spot. 

She could feel him grin and he started sliding his fingers out, but she reached down and grabbed his wrist. “Don’t you fucking dare stop,” she growled, and Bucky whimpered, thrusting his fingers back into her and rubbing quickly.

He crooked his fingers and pushed them against her G-spot. Lola whined, her legs wrapping around him as she pulled him closer.

"Fuck!" She moaned.

He wrapped his lips around her clit and sucked hard as he fucked her with his fingers. She hated to give him credit, but he was fucking good at this. Bucky flattened his tongue and dragged it along her clit as he kept up the pace. Lola kept her hand fisted in his hair. The more she tugged on it, the louder he groaned. She was so sure that people could hear her. The bathroom was just down the hall. But part of her didn't care. Bucky fucking owed this to her.

"Come for me?" He begged through muffled moans. "Please, Lola."

Those words were all she needed. As Bucky pumped his fingers faster and began to suck her clit again, Lola felt the fire of her orgasm start in her core and move slowly to the very tips of her fingers and toes. “Oh fuck, Bucky” she whimpered.

A disgruntled moan escaped her chest as pleasure overtook her senses, coming hard and fast. She rocked her hips against his hands, slowly as she came down from her orgasm, letting a sigh leave her lips. Okay, so maybe he did know exactly what to do, but she was not giving him her forgiveness that easily. There was much more work to be done, and he still had to prove that he was up for the task. 

Bringing up a hand, she brushed her hair away from her sticky forehead, as she breathed out a shaky breath and sat back up on her elbows. "Alright cowboy, you're good with your mouth, I'll give you that," she smirked, and swiped her tongue along her bottom lip. "Show me what else you can do." 

A sound that was a mix of a growl and a chuckle came from deep in Bucky's chest, as he stood up and placed his hands on either side of her, leaning in close. "Yes ma'am" He whispered once more, causing Lola to scoot herself backward. 

"Boxers off, and get over here," She raised her eyebrow at him. 

She'd never seen someone take off a piece of clothing so fast, his hard cock slapping against his abdomen. Lola swallowed the lump in her throat at the sight, and the corners of her lips turned upwards. "Good to know you have the equipment. Now let's see how well you use it"

Bucky whimpered again as Lola reached forward, grasping his dick and stroking it a few times. 

“Come here,” she murmured, and Bucky stepped forwards, Lola guiding him to her entrance before stopping. “Wait, we need a condom,” she said, pushing him back and rolling over on the bed, pulling one out of her nightstand drawer. 

Lola turned back to Bucky, and he took the condom without complaint, opening it quickly and rolling it down his shaft. 

“Much better,” Lola said and laid back on the bed, spreading her legs again. “Come and get me, sweetheart.”

Bucky groaned as settled between her legs, he pressed his tip against her, pushing in slowly, Lola nearly bit through her lip at the stretch - intense but perfect.

His mouth crashed against hers as she wrapped her legs around his waist, taking him as deep as she could until he bottomed out with a soft grunt. 

"Fuck," he murmured. "You feel so good. I fucking dreamed about this."

"Dreamed about fucking your employee? That's an HR violation."

He pulled away and growled. Lola gripped his chin. They were sharing short, sharp breaths, both of them trying their best to remain stoic. 

"Don't get an attitude with me now, Barnes."

He smirked and pulled his cock almost all the way out of her before slowly pushing it back in, making her eyes roll back. A jolt of pleasure shot down to her toes, making them curl and she whimpered. Bucky chuckled.

"How's that for attitude?"

"God, you're such an asshole," she whispered before claiming his mouth with hers once more.

“If you want to see an asshole, I can get up right now and walk back into the party.” Bucky teased as he pulled out his impressive length until only the tip was left at Lola’s entrance.

Lola bucked her hips into his, her wet pussy pulling him back into her. Bucky let out a low groan and his head fell forward. “I think we both know you won’t, baby”. 

The nickname sent a feral feeling through Bucky. His eyes shot up to meet Lola’s and he whimpered, “Fuck, that sounded so good coming from you.” 

His lips captured Lola’s in a fiery, passionate kiss; his hips snapping hard into her hitting her G-spot over and over again.

The sounds of their moans filled the room around them, the distant thumping of the music egging on his rhythms. Lola didn't care though, he was driving her wild with every thrust. 

She pulled back from his lips, her eyes meeting his and feeling a flicker of emotion she hadn't felt in god knows how long. It sucked her in the longer she stared at him, but the memories of how much of a dick he had been over the last year started to flood back. Something between anger and hate brewed in her chest as a growl left her throat at the sight of him smiling down at her as if something had changed. 

Her hands found his chest, pushing him to the side and rolling them over with all of her strength. She expected Bucky to fight her, take control, and stay planted above her but to her surprise, he easily fell back into the mattress, eyes bright and beaming. 

"Getting a little cocky are we?" He grinned. 

With flushed cheeks and tiny beads of sweat dotting his forehead she began to ride him, digging her nails into his chest and rolling her hips, "You aren't in control tonight," she leaned down, brushing her lips against his and slowing her hips down to barely a roll but taking him fully within her. Lola watched as his own eyes rolled back before pressing her lips to his and swallowing the groan he let out. 

"I never am with you," he whispered against her lips and in between breaths.

Lola breathed a laugh, and sat up, placing her hands firmly back on his thighs, as a grin spread across her lips. "And don't you ever forget that" 

She began to roll her hips, picking the pace back up, her head falling back as deep moans came from both of them. Bucky's hands found a home on her waist, digging his fingers into her skin. The coolness of his metal fingers combated the fire under her skin. 

"Fuck sweetheart, you take me so well" He grunted, bucking his hips up to meet hers. 

The burning fire in her belly reignited at his praise, but there was no fucking way she was granting him that satisfaction. He still had work to do. Voices chattering echoed through the apartment, as people started to gather in her living room for the countdown, but she couldn't care less about what was going on. This was all that mattered. Making James Barnes whine and writhe underneath her. Having him in her command. 

Lola leaned back down and placed her hand gently on his throat as her eyes bore into his, "Just shut up, and fuck me" She growled, pulling a groan from his lips.

Bucky made a noise between a whimper and a gasp, high and airy, as he pressed up into her hand. “Lola, god.”

Lola laughed and lifted her hand pressing it back on his chest. “Goddess,” she grinned, nails digging into and scratching them down, leaving red lines. Bucky hissed and his hands gripped her hips tightly, fucking up into her. 

“Fuck!” Lola gasped, raising up and dropping back down onto him, pushing them both closer to orgasm.

"I'm so fucking close," Bucky gasped.

Her hand slid up his chest and wrapped around his throat, squeezing the sides. She smiled, slowing down on purpose just to make him squirm.

"You don't come without my permission."

His eyes rolled back and he bit his lip.

"Fuuuuck, Lola. Don't do this to me!"

She began to roll her hips slowly, back and forth, moaning louder and louder as her clit found the perfect amount of friction. Her eyes fluttered closed and she whimpered, the cool air and Bucky's metal hand soothing her scorched skin. He cupped her breasts and rolled her nipples between his thumb and forefinger and Lola whimpered, causing him to laugh.

"You like that, don't you, angel?"

She hated the fact that his voice sent a warm tingle up her spine when just twenty minutes ago, it made her want to throw up.

"I think I should have gagged you, Barnes," she groaned.

“Mmm, but then you wouldn’t be able to hear the praise that makes that pussy throb for me. Don’t think I didn’t notice Lola” Bucky pushed his hips up, giving him a new angle to push even deeper.

Lola moaned and gripped his chest until she was afraid she’d draw blood. Her brain couldn’t catch up in time to have a witty comeback, so Bucky spoke again.

“Fuck Lola. You feel so fuckin’ good around my cock. Take what you want. Use me like I know you want to.” His metal hand had drifted to Lola’s throat, gripping lightly. 

“Oh god,” Lola whined as her own hand met Buckys at her neck. “I can’t fuckin’ stand you Barnes, but you feel so fuckin’ good filling me up. Now be a good boy and shut up.” Lola had removed his hand from her neck and guided it to her swollen bud, then brought her hand back to the spot on his chest, picking up speed with her hips as she went.

"Only if you sing for me darlin'," he moaned, tugging her against his lips for a crushing kiss as her orgasm wracked over her body. Stars appeared behind her vision as she moaned against his mouth, her words reduced down to gibberish as her hips rolled and he continued to slide against the one spot that made her legs clench together, and tingles soared to her toes. 

"Oh fuck, oh fuck, oh fuck," Bucky breathed, his grip tightening every so slightly as he thrust up into her chasing his own orgasm and quickly tossing her off the edge into another one of her own. 

Lola wrapped her hand around his wrist, letting him have control for the slightest of seconds over her airway. The smug grin on his face returned for just a moment before his head slammed back into the pillow and came with a groan so sinful that her body began to shake with another orgasm.

The two of them let the pleasure wash over them, as Lola's hips slowed, rocking them through their orgasms. The anger and hatred subsided for only a moment in the heat of passion, causing Lola to close her eyes and look up to the ceiling with a sigh. 

"Fuck Lola..." Bucky whispered from under her, soothing his hands over her frame gently. "You are incredible" 

Turning her gaze back to him, a smirk crossed her lips, "I know" She stated, leaning down to press a soft kiss to his lips. "Don't let this go to your head, but you weren't so bad yourself" 

"Oh really?" He grinned. 

Lola groaned, and rolled off to the side, pulling a blanket over her body, "I regretted it the instant I said it" 

"I'm kidding, sweetheart..." He chuckled, reaching over to brush a piece of hair behind her ear. "That means a lot coming from you" 

She cleared her throat, and looked over to meet his soft blue stare, "This doesn't make us even... I'm still mad" 

"I wouldn't expect anything less... But I did mean it when I said I would do anything to earn forgiveness from you" He answered softly. 

Lola sighed, seeing his sincerity but not being swayed. “Maybe, but I don’t know what’s going to be enough.”

Bucky frowned, but reached for her hand, taking it in his when she didn’t immediately pull away. “I don’t care how long it takes, I’ll do whatever it takes.”

Lola sighed, dropping her hand softly, running her thumb over the dimple in his chin, "no more Lola Bunny jokes," her eyes flickered up to his. 

A boyish smile fell over his lips, "Deal." 

Doubt swirled in her stomach as she studied him. As much as she wanted to hate him and be angry with him, which to be fair she still was, this just... helped. She saw something else in him and it made her curious. 

Bucky tangled their fingers, measuring his hand against her own, "I can feel you doubting this," he whispered softly, his eyes still glued to their hands. 

"Of course I am," she breathed, "this is the most we've gotten along all year and I'm still mad at you." 

"This isn't a Disney movie, Lola," he finally flicked his gaze to match hers, "I don't plan on turning into a pumpkin at midnight or a frog," 

"You were alread--" 

"Don't say it," he groaned, closing his eyes and hiding a grin. 

Lola laughed, as he shook his head at her. 

He paused again, the smile slowly falling from his lips "I'm just sayin' I want us to get along."

Sucking in a deep breath, Lola nodded slowly, "I'd like that.." She answered back quietly. Her gaze drifted to the door, as she bit her bottom lip and looked back to Bucky. 

"Yeah, I know.." He chuckled, giving her hand a small squeeze before reluctantly letting it go. 

The two of them rolled themselves out of Lola's bed, and slowly gathered back up their clothing, getting dressed and making themselves look as if nothing had happened. But something did happen, and Lola was sure her guests had heard. This was going to be an adjustment for both of them. Would they fall back into old habits when they got back out to their coworkers? Or would Bucky actually be a man of his word? Only time would answer that, but for right now, all Lola cared about was the man in her bedroom. This moment and the silent promise they made to each other. 

"5.... 4...." The numbers echoed from her living room as the new year edged closer and closer. 

She took a deep breath, and spun on her heel, walking up to Bucky as he did up the buttons on his dress shirt.

"Bucky..." Lola whispered. 

"2... 1... HAPPY NEW YEAR" 

Lola took Bucky's face in her hands and found his lips with hers. Her arms slid around his neck, and she felt him wrap his around her waist, pulling their bodies close together once more. It was the first new year's kiss she'd had in a long time that actually meant something to her deep down. This one last moment, just the two of them before their lives got complicated with the reality of the two of them. 

"Happy New Year..." Bucky whispered, as he broke the kiss and placed his forehead against hers. He replaced his forehead with his lips before moving back to look at her. 

She nodded once, softly smiling up at him as she breathed out a sigh. "You ready?"

"Yeah..." He mumbled in response, racking his eyes over her features once more. Bucky reached up and cupped her cheek, running his thumb gently over her skin. "You forgot to put yellow feathers in your hair..." 

"Bucky!" Lola smacked his chest and moved away from him. "You are unbelievable" 

"I'm sorry! I'm sorry, sweetheart, last one! I promise!" He laughed, grabbing her waist back and kissing her cheek. 

Lola shook her head, as she opened the bedroom door and the two of them made their way back out to the party. She went and found Kate and Yelena talking to come coworkers, her two friends instantly whispering and asking if she was okay, while Bucky made his way back to the boys huddled around the bar. His usual spot for this party, every year. 

"Damn it! I owe Steve 10 bucks," Sam whined over the crowd. "I was sure she'd killed you" 

Steve's laughter boomed as he clapped Sam on the shoulder. Bucky just shook his head, and glanced over, catching Lola's eyes with a soft smile. She bit the inside of her cheek, and turned her gaze back to her friends, ignoring the swarm of butterflies that had erupted in her stomach at the sight of his smile. 

It was going to be a good year. Lola could feel it.

[imaginedreamwrite]

I’m sorry I’m early.. but could we have were!panther Andy and his wife for wife Wednesday?? They are one of my favorite couples you write. Thank you!!! 💗

It looked like something pulled from the pages of a fairytale, the interior of an elaborate castle foyer that was laden with gold trim and carved metal railings that ensconced the staircase.

It was at the top of the steps where he had found you, barefoot with your toes curling in the runner on the stairs, a leather bound book in your hands and a maternity sundress that fell to your lower thighs. The soft blue and pastel flowers printed on the dress was an indication of how settled you were in your role as his wife and mate.

“You’ve got to be shifting me,” your ex, Jacob, had dropped his bags onto the tile floor and scrunched his nose in distaste, “what the fuck are you doing here?”

“Its my house,” you took the first few steps down, your freehand gripping the railing, “what are you doing here you pathetic waste of air?”

Your voice held no respect nor ambiguity for the boy standing in the foyer with a nasty scowl on his face. You were no more concerned about him than you were frightened, you were secure in your knowledge that he would have no chance to hurt you.

Not since Andy had secured hired guards to keep you safe even from threats you hadn’t seen coming.

“I’m here to see my father, you whore.” Jacob spat his disgust toward you, unrelenting yet unsatisfied by your lack of care.

“Andy’s not here, he’s at work.” Your feet touched bottom and you stepped toward Jacob, feeling your baby kicking in your belly. “You can leave now.”

“The hell I am.” His snort of derision was met with your hardened stare and the pursing of your lips. “This is still my house-”

“-Mrs. Barber-“ movement to your left had caught your eye and the way your personal guard had spoken your name was simply a confirmation of what you wanted to be done.

“Goodbye, Jacob. Have the life you so desperately deserve.” With a nod of your head, your guard had started enforcing your request to get him out by lifting him with one hand and grabbing the straps of his bag. “Don’t come back.”

You watched Jacob being thrown out onto his ass, and simultaneously looked toward Andy as he stepped into the house with takeout bags in his hand.

“That’s my wife, boy.” Andy spat at Jacob, no love for his spoiled child. “Next time you cross her, it might cost your tongue.”

The door was slammed in Jacob’s face, and within a moment Andy’s composure had evened out again. “I brought your favourite, Mrs. Barber. Let me change and we’ll watch a movie and eat.”

[cupidsarows]

Cupid's Arrows: Wind Beneath My Wings

Cast:

Blaze-Black-Love To Hate

Otto-Yellow-Familial Love

Sylvia-Purple-Shallow Love

Ike-Green-Objective Love

Pheobe-Blue--Platonic Love

Rowan-Red-Romantic Love

Mr. C-Cupid

Chapter 1

“Shit fucking damn it, no no. Nonononono”

“Cupid? Are you ok? What’s wrong?”

Sylvia halted as one of her low heels stuck to the viscous liquid on the floor.

“Is… that what I think it is?”

Cupid nodded weakly from he was curled on the floor and Sylvia’s face constricted into some combination of despair or queasiness as she helped Cupid up. A large gash ran down his shoulder, soaking into the white of his coat. That was the source of the puddle. It was so much for one being, almost too much.

“Ok, here’s what we’re going to do, I’m going to go get Ike, he’d be better at this I think. You stay put- “

Cupid let out a shaking sob.

“Right, I guess you can’t really do anything else. Uhm, ok then.”

As Sylvia took off running something like adrenaline filled her and next thing she knew she burst into Ike’s room.

“Ike I need your help, do you have any medical supplies?”

Chapter 2

It was going to be ok, Ike had been able to patch up Cupids arm, it would probably heal soon. Cupid hadn’t had to tell the story for Sylvia to piece together what must have happened. She shuddered as she thought about it.

“I’m worried, what could’ve happened between Rowan and Cupid? Is it my fault? I woke him up, he chased after them…”

The rest of what Sylvia was going to say was muffled by the fabric of her lavender hoodie as she wiped her eyes on the sleeve. She knew the result was, but the question of what had really happened was eating at her.

Ike sniffed solemnly from where he was squatting against a pillar. He didn’t shift his gaze from the point in space ahead of him but his hand found Sylvia’s with a soothing calmness.

“For the record, I don’t think it’s your fault. Rowan’s always been loyal to Cupid, you couldn’t have known what would happen.”

“Ike, thank you, just, thank you.”

“Don’t mention it, it’s what friends are for.”

Chapter 3

“Really? Wow, good for him.”

Blaze smirked at the horrified look Sylvia made in response to his comment.

“Not funny Blaze, please don’t tell Otto or Pheobe, they’d be destroyed, just say Rowan’s in his room ok?”

Blaze held up his hands in a show of good faith.

“I won’t tell them, but c’mon, Cupid had it coming.”

Before Sylvia could tell Blaze off for this remark a shout rang out from the doorway that they were standing outside of.

“Cupids awake! I better go!”

Blaze did a sarcastic salute as Sylvia hurriedly opened the door and tried to calmly walk inside.

She couldn’t remember ever being inside Cupids room now that she though about it. It was enormous, larger than everyone’s rooms combined. It was also made of white marble, at first Sylvia had wondered if this was simply a continuation of Cupids domain that she hadn’t been in before but he had insisted on coming here specifically.

Cupids room consisted of a seemingly endless hallway of pillars supporting a large slab of concrete that looked as though it could fall and squash Sylvia like a bug at any time. The floor underneath the slab was covered in a white fur runner carpet that eventually, after what must have been minutes, led up several staircase steps to a simple white bed with an ornate, gold frame. It was here that Sylvia and Ike had left Cupid laying though the being was now sitting on the edge restlessly.

“Finally, what took you so long?”

“Sorry,”

Sylvia tried to catch her breath but failed as there was nothing on the platform she could lean against.

“Is something wrong?”

“I have a question,”

Sylvia was ready in an instant, Cupid needed her and she wouldn’t fail him.

“Do you trust me?”

The question caught her off guard, of course it did. As long as Sylvia had existed she had devoted herself to Cupid and his cause. It stung slightly, that he thought it was even possible for her to doubt him anymore. Sylvia didn’t say any of this however;

“I promise.”

Chapter 4

The pat of a hand on her shoulder as she understood what was being said,

The pat of her low heels on the rug walking away,

The pat of Rowan’s shoes as he had run after Cupid.

Had he been scared? Or did he have only violence on his mind? Did he even think about his family and friends when he tried to attack?

I have to do something

[waratah-moon]

A Grim Old Place for a Reunion

With war around the corner, the Order of the Phoenix has reassembled and Sirius has asked Harry and his aunt, Violet, to stay with him in London. After 14 long years, Violet Evans is about to be reunited with the only man she ever loved. masterlist / read on ao3

Word count: 2.7k

Pairing: Post-Azkaban Sirius Black x Violet Evans (fem Evans!OC)

Warnings: old fashioned smut (not a lot, but it's there), not beta read

"Sirius!" Harry barrelled past his Aunt to embraced the long haired man in the hallway.

"Hello Harry," Sirius smiled, hugging him close. When he finally released the boy, he looked past him into the hallway to see the blonde woman he'd been waiting for. "Violet."

"Sirius," she nodded, taking a step towards him.

"This must be the first time I've properly seen you in-"

"Fourteen years," she finished the sentence for him. Apart from meeting under extraneous circumstances - the shrieking shack during Harry's third year and Harry's almost death during the Triwizard tournament debacle - they hadn't seen each other since the night James and Lily were killed.

"Uh, you look good. How have you been?" Sirius looked awkward now, his hands were in his pockets and his foot was kicking the fringe on the edge of the carpet runner. If Harry hadn't known better, he would have thought his godfather was attempting to flirt with his Aunt.

But Harry didn't know better. Remus did. He coughed, taking the attention off Sirius and placing it on himself. "Does anyone want tea?"

"Tea! Yes, uh, you do that and I'll show Harry to his room. C'mon Harry, this way," Sirius led Harry up the narrow staircase and disappeared around the corner, levitating his godson's trunk in front of him.

-

"He's been excited for you both to arrive, but I don’t think he thought through what he would say to you," Remus led the way into the basement kitchen.

“Hello would have been fine,” Violet took a seat on the bench tucked under the wooden table in the centre of the kitchen.

"Since when has Sirius ever done things the simple way?" Remus flicked his wand and the kettle began to boil. He pulled four mugs from the shelf above the stove. "He spent twelve years in prison and another two on the run. He's a bit out of practice with his social skills. You need to go easy on him."

"I know, but he can't possibly expect things to just go back to how they were fourteen years ago. I have Harry to think about."

"And have you told Harry what your relationship with his godfather was like?" Remus was busying himself making the tea, adding sugar and milk to Violet's, just like he had done all those years ago.

"Of course not," Violet’s face flushed and she flicked back a piece of hair that had fallen in her eyes.

"I don't think Harry would mind if his godparents got together," he set the mugs of tea on the table and sat down, he pushed the pale blue one towards Violet.

"I think your getting a bit a head of yourself, Remus. I've barely spoken to him, let alone-" she drifted off as she heard two pairs of feet coming down the basement stairs. Seconds later, Harry and Sirius were entering the kitchen.

"Aunty Vi, Sirius says that Ron's coming tomorrow, can I write to Hermione and ask her to come too? Sirius said I had to ask you."

"Uh," her eyes switched from Harry to Sirius, who shrugged in response, back to Harry. "If it's alright with her parents and Sirius-"

"Cool, I'll got write to her now!" He grinned and raced back up the stairs.

"Did Remus tell you the Weasley's were coming to stay?" Sirius sat down opposite Violet and took a sip from his mug.

"He mentioned it, yes. He also said this was going to be order headquarters. It doesn't seem as lively as I would have expected."

Sirius grinned. "First meeting's Friday. This place has been sitting empty since my mother's death so I was hoping you and Harry would help me make it more hospitable."

"Ah, so that's why you asked us to stay. To do chores?"

"It's not like Kreacher's much help."

"Kreacher's still around? I thought he'd be long dead."

"So did I, but no, the cretin is still his same miserable self."

"I bet he loved it when you walked through the door. Y'know, being a blood traitor and all."

“You should have heard what my mother said when I walked through the door. Or her portrait at least.” He took a swig of his tea. He could see Remus smiling out of the corner of his eye and was acutely aware of what his best friend must be thinking. But this was not flirting. He was not flirting with Violet Evans, it was just a conversation between old friends.

He cleared his throat. “I took your bag up to your room, by the way. I'll show you to it after you finish your tea.”

Violet tucked a strand of hair behind her ear, "that would be great, Sirius. Thank you."

-

Harry requested Chinese food for dinner, so Violet and Remus walked around Islington until they found a place that did take-away. Most of the evening was spent in polite conversation, Remus wondering how Violet had been since they last spoke and Harry begging Sirius to tell him about Dumbledore's mission. It was ten past nine when Remus excused himself and Violet was able to head up to what would be her room for the rest of the summer.

Sirius had told her it was once his mother's room, and he seemed delighted knowing that having a muggleborn sleep in her bed would have her rolling in her grave, or at least cursing from behind the thick velvet curtains hiding her portrait.

The bedroom was exactly what was to be expected from a pureblood matriarch. A massive four-poster sat between two oak nightstands. An unlit fireplace was at far end of the room with an armchair and a love seat sitting before it. Lastly, a regal armoire, which was no doubt home to a boggart, sat next to a vanity table and a door leading to the ensuite. Violet had to admit, it was a very nice room. She'd given the bed a once over with her wand, eliminating a thick coating of dust from the covers, before laying down. The mattress and pillows were firm, no doubt speaking to the character of Walburga Black, but Violet could see getting a reasonable nights sleep here.

A gentle knock came at the door and she sat up, "come in."

It was Sirius. He looked around the room, taking note of the absence of dust, "I see you're using your wand again."

"With you-know-who's return I thought it was inevitable."

Sirius stepped further into the room, shutting the door softly behind him, "I thought we should talk. We may not get another chance when order members start showing up."

"That's probably a good idea," she got off the bed and motioned to the chairs by the fire.

They each took an end of the love seat. She flicked her wand and flames crackled to life in the fireplace.

"How much have you told Harry?"

"About what, specifically?"

"About everything. About his parents, about their death, about the war, about… us."

She ignored the last part, "he knows about his parents, what they were like. You could tell him more about James than I can, and he knows about how they died. But I haven’t told him about the Order, he's too young for that."

"He's going to need to know about it now."

"No, Sirius. He's got enough to worry about without adding the Order to it."

"Violet, he's as much apart of the Order as you or me-"

"Absolutely not, Sirius."

They were silent for a moment before Sirius spoke again. "What about me? What have you told him about me?"

"He hasn't really asked me about you. He knows you. He writes to you. What do you expect me to tell him?"

"So he hasn't asked if we were friends at Hogwarts?"

"What are you getting at?"

Sirius sighed, "I guess I'm asking if you told him we were together."

Violet laughed. It was the first time she'd properly laughed in a long time. "You think I talk to my fifteen-year-old nephew about old boyfriends? Oh, yeah, let me tell him how I dated Elliot Marsh during fifth year while I'm at it."

Sirius huffed, "I think we more than dated, Violet. Don't you think it's important that Harry knows it? We were suppose to raise him together."

"But we didn't, Sirius. I raised him. You got yourself thrown in Azkaban."

"Bit of a low blow, don't ya think?"

"You didn't even tell me where you were going that night. Hagrid showed up on your bike with Harry and said you had 'other business', next thing I know, they've thrown you in Azkaban for killing Peter and those muggles, and being in service to you-know-who"

"I should have told you I wasn't the secret keeper."

"Yeah, well, it doesn't matter anymore, does it," she gazed at the fire. "You know, I never believed you were one of them. I knew you didn't have a dark mark, but I was positive you weren't in league with them. I told Remus as much and he called me crazy. That's why we didn't stay in touch when Harry was growing up."

"Because you didn't think I killed Lily and James?"

"Because I know you couldn't have."

"What did you tell Harry when I escaped?"

She smiled, "I didn't correct him when he asked if you were a crazed lunatic, if that's what you're asking."

Sirius laughed.

"I didn't get a chance to tell you earlier, but you look good, Sirius."

"Dumbledore gave me a potion when I saw him last. I didn't ask what was in it but it seems to have done the trick," he raked his fingers through his shoulder length curls. "You look just the same. Beautiful as ever."

"C'mon, Harry's given me worry lines. He's so much like James."

"I've noticed that."

“The worry lines?”

“No,” Sirius shook his head with a laugh, “that he’s a mini James. You’ve done a great job with him,” his tone was genuine.

“I’ve tried my best,” she nodded, fighting back the tears that were stinging the corners of her eyes, remembering the first few months of raising Harry alone. The trouble she had getting him to sleep and eat, the constant nightmares and screams. She blamed Sirius for making her go through it alone, how stupid could he have been to get thrown in Azkaban like that? “It would have been easier with you.”

“C’mon, you didn’t need me. If anything I would have recked the kid. I’d have been a terrible influence and you know it.”

“You’re here now, and from what Harry’s told me you haven’t been doing a bad job,” her hand moved to his thigh as she spoke. “And while I may not of needed you in the end, I never stopped wanting you.”

Suddenly Sirius couldn’t help himself, he had to kiss her. He pulled her close to him and kissed her deeply. She reacted immediately, returning the kiss with the same hunger and intensity. The next few moments happened in a blur, their clothes came off in a tangle of limbs and the only time they pulled away was to toss a shirt over the love seat or to gasp for air. Violet’s hands instinctively went to his belt, undoing the buckle and helping him shed his jeans. Sirius moved his lips down Violets neck to her exposed chest, kissing each freckle across her pale skin. His hand moved further ahead of him, tracing across the elastic band of her underwear and between her thighs, ghosting the part of her that needed him the most.

“We’re not twenty anymore, no need for teasing,” she moaned, lifting her hips up to try and meet his hand.

“It’s been fourteen years since I’ve touched you, let me saviour the feeling.” His fingers dipped below the fabric of her underwear and Violet let out a gasp as she felt his fingers gather the wetness at her entrance before tracing circles against her clit. “You always did get wet so easily.”

“Only when you were the one touching me.”

“And who’s touched you since I’ve been gone?”

“Sirius,” she warned, her breath hitching as he sped up his movements.

“I just want to know if anyone’s made you feel as good as I do.”

“Not even close,” she said truthfully.

She’d been with men in the period Sirius had been in Azkaban, she’d even had a few boyfriends, but none of them had made her feel like Sirius had. In fact the only time she’d ever finished was when she was alone, remembering the way Sirius had touched her. And now that it was his actual hands on her skin, she could feel herself approaching the edge.

“Good. Wanna remind you how good I can make you feel,” and he pulled his hand away.

“Sirius,” she whined, fidgeting her hips at the lost of the sensation.

“Aw princess, I’m sorry but I promise this’ll feel so much better,” the pet name rolled off his tongue as easy as it had 14 years ago.

He pulled his underwear off and Violet moved up the couch, propping the cushions against the arm of the love seat to give her a place to rest. She followed Sirius’s lead and took off her underwear, wrapping her legs around his hips as he lowered himself between her legs.

Their lips joined together, but this time the kiss was slow and tender. They melted together like no time at all had passed, a familiar comfort in their embrace.

Violet relaxed as she felt Sirius enter her, giving her a moment to adjust before he began a slow and steady pace.

His forehead was resting against hers now, murmurs of “I missed you,” and “you feel so good,” fell from their lips.

It was like she was being transported back 14 years ago, back to when she and Sirius shared that cramped little flat in Soho, back when she had less responsibilities and her only worry was if the floo network to work would mess up her hair. Being with Sirius felt like the first time she’d been home in a long time.

Sirius’s breathing was heavier now and his pace had quickened, Violet snaked her hand now between her legs to rub circles on the spot that Sirius had been tending to before. Their kisses were getting sloppy now, and Sirius moved from her lips to her neck and chest, leaving marks that she knew she’d have to vanish in the morning. “Sirius, I’m close,” she breathed, her fingers drawing tighter circles as her toes curled.

“Me too, wanna finish together, okay princess?”

She nodded, too overwhelmed to speak.

“Three,” he kept the same steady pace, his hips bucking against hers. “Two,” she could feel sweat trickling down her neck and across her chest. “One.” Her walls clenched around him and he groaned, burying his face into her neck as he released. Her thighs shook as they rode out their highs, movements messy as they tried to maintain the feeling.

After a while they finally pulled apart, hair sticking to their foreheads and breathing heavy.

“C’mere,” he pulled her against him, her back leaning against his chest as he pressed a kiss to her temple. “That was amazing.”

“I know,” she picked up his hand and intertwined their fingers, resting her head on his shoulder and looking up at him.

Sirius’s eyes scanned her naked form, drinking in the sight of her. She looked exactly how he remembered, the very image that got him through many a lonely night both in Azkaban and in hiding. Although there were some things different about her. Sirius noticed a bouquet of flowers tattooed on her ankle. Lilies, he noted, she must have gotten them for her sister. A familiar constellation was also inked on the skin above her hip that made him smile.

“What’s this?” Sirius’s thumb grazed the spot his eyes couldn’t leave.

“A tattoo,” Violet bit her bottom lip, watching him trace the inking on her skin.

“It’s the Canis Major.”

“I was wondering when you’d notice it,” she caught his finger tracing the design and placed it upon the Sirius star, which was marked with asterisk-like lines. “I never stopped thinking about you, Sirius.” She rolled over so her chin was pressed against his chest, her eyes gazing into his. “Never.”

“Even when all those blokes took your attention?”

“There weren’t that many,” she huffed, her hand resting on the flower tattoo above his heart, the violet he’d gotten in seventh year. “It’s always been you.”

-

excerpt from a longer fic I've been writing for a long long time. Comments and messages much appreciated xx

[aphroditestummyrolls]

Keep You Safe (part 2) 😊 😊

Hi there! ❤️

Dear Colm,

As always, I hope you’re well. Until quite recently, I would say that things were good here as well, but if that was still the case, you wouldn’t be receiving this note.

In the early hours of this morning (12 October), Jesper got sick again. It’s worse than we’ve ever seen, nearly as bad as the withdrawal itself.

Kaz and I have written to King Nikolai, and we are taking The Hummingbird to The Little Palace. In the hope that, between our two searches for an antidote, we might finally be able to get rid of the parem, and get Jesper back to himself again. Inej brings this note on our behalf, as well as the invitation to join us in Ravka.

We will all set out on board The Hummjngbird from Ketterdam on 16 October.

Jesper has been asking for you— and he’s not the only one who would feel better having you there.

Love,

Wylan

The house had changed so much since he’d last stayed there. In the front hall, the dark lacquered wood detailing remained, and so did the checkered marble floors. But, the whitewashed walls were now painted a rich, verdant green. The wide, circular area rug had a woven pattern that he recognised from Addy’s favourite old stall in the Weddle Markets. When Jesper had asked for its name in their letters, he must’ve placed an order.

The runner up the grand staircase couldn’t be said to match the rug under his feet, but at least it coordinated. The bright patterns of pink and blue, cream and green set off against the walls paint. The chandelier twinkled down over the space that had once felt so cavernous and cold, and now it felt like them— Jesper’s wild energy and passion for colour, and Wylan’s artistic eye for composition.

In the couple short months since Colm left for home, this place had become a home.

He only hoped his boys would show him around sometime. Give him the tour, show him everything they’d changed. But that would have to wait— they wouldn’t be staying longer than it took to pack this special ship of theirs.

They were going to Ravka. To see if they could save his son.

Thank you so much for playing! ❤️

[waltwhitmansbeard]

go on, claim my heart: chapter twenty-seven

see my masterpost for what came before this.

Scanlan Shorthalt has outdone himself. Making Lord Percival invisible was child's play, but the detail to which he's managed to disguise himself as one of the shambling undead of this godsforsaken town has impressed even his own high esteem. He catches glimpses of himself in various reflective surfaces around the castle—ornate mirrors, polished vases, a giant decorative shield of some kind—and preens, though it is strange to be looking out of eyes that are of a level with his reflection's chest.

He nearly loses track of the invisible Master of Development several times as a result of his self-congratulation, and so he redoubles his focus and shuffles along, listening intently for tiny footfalls as Lord Percival leads the way. There is a short hall from the kitchen to the formal dining room, which Lord Percival skirts around nimbly, and for a moment Scanlan can imagine it, the little noble boy sneaking around his castle, nicking food from the kitchens and avoiding the disapproving eyes of parents and tutors. It has been over a decade since Lord Percival last walked these halls, and yet he moves quickly—too quickly for Scanlan's short legs—and confidently, keeping them out of sight of guards and servants.

Up two flights of a grand staircase, and now they're tracking along a hall with an impossibly long runner down the middle, making following invisible footsteps infinitely harder. It's why Lord Percival has to yank Scanlan out of the way when a slightly stooped older man with short gray hair rounds the far corner to begin walking their way. Scanlan presses himself behind a shiny suit of armor, briefly admiring his arcane handiwork once more before listening to the man bark orders at a cowering servant.

"We must move with haste," the man croaks, walking with an alacrity that belies his apparent age. "After the display out on the lawn, they will be coming soon, that is certain."

"Yes, Professor," the servant squeaks, scrambling to keep up.

"Get the whelp somewhere secure. She is too easily found where she is."

"Yes, Professor. Should the young miss—"

The professor sighs, and Scanlan holds his breath as the pair passes by his hiding place. "Yes, yes, her too. Better she care for the thing than I. Go." With that order, the servant scuttles ahead, practically running up the stairs to a higher floor. This professor goes up as well, and Scanlan nearly yelps when a voice in his ear whispers, "That's Professor Anders. He's the one who let them in."

Scanlan doesn't need to ask for clarification. "So we follow the servant?"

"No, we know where he's going. Let's see where Anders takes us."

He questions the wisdom of this plan, but he's following here, so as Lord Percival takes off, Scanlan jolts to follow. They sneak up the stairs, keeping as far back as they dare from Anders as he leads them in the opposite direction from the one in which the servant disappeared. They walk the maze of grand halls until Anders stops at a set of giant wooden doors. Scanlan presses himself back against the wall, shrouded in shadow as best he can be, as Anders knocks on the door. He must hear some kind of bid for entry, because he opens the door and slips inside. Lord Percival grits out, "My parents' chambers?" before scurrying to the door. Scanlan takes a deep breath and follows.

Luckily, Anders did not close the door behind him, so there is enough of a gap for him to see a well-appointed chamber with a fire crackling in the hearth and, most unusually, a polished ebony casket near the center, closed and ominous. Draped over that casket is a woman, with dark auburn hair in a tight chignon and a voluminous blue-black gown. Her hands are balled into fists atop the wood. "I need answers, Anders."

The professor clears his throat. "Yes, well. My lady, it would seem that the contingent from Zephrah has dispatched with Duke Vedmire, in addition to..."

He trails off, and the woman that Scanlan can only assume is Lady Briarwood drops her forehead to the casket. "My poor love. To be waylaid at a time like this."

Scanlan remembers some of his research from back in Syngorn. He hadn't been paying the closest attention—he had never dedicated himself to his studies well—but there was something in there about a felled vampire returning to a resting place to recover, even after death. He guesses Lord Briarwood must be resting in that very casket.

"I am having the child brought to a more secure location," Anders explains, "to keep her hidden until the time is right—"

"The time is now, Anders." Lady Briarwood's voice is cold, and yet Scanlan can hear the edge of something tremulous underneath it—rage? Desperation? Fear?

Professor Anders begins to sputter. "I—but—the Ascension—it is not—"

"I know it is early. I don't care. We will proceed with our plans tonight."

"This will put significant strain on the ritual—"

In a flash, Lady Briarwood is on her feet, her face inches from the flinching professor's. "They are here, Anders. They are coming. If we do not proceed tonight, we very well might not have tomorrow. I don't care what strain this puts on the ritual. We're doing it tonight."

Anders ducks his head. "Yes, my lady."

"Bring the child down to the altar. Prepare the sacrifice. I will join you shortly."

One more bow, and Anders sweeps around to leave. Scanlan barely manages to leap out of the way past the door so that he is not caught as the professor storms off down the hall. He waits for the man to disappear before peering around the door once more. Lord Percival tugs at his arm, clearly indicating that they should leave, but Scanlan shakes him off and holds up a hand to encourage him to wait.

Lady Briarwood is seated on the floor beside the casket now, her skirts billowing around. She settles a hand atop the wood. "Rest now, Sylas. As much as I wished for you to be there when I conquered death once and for all, I will greet you in our new eternity when it is all over, when we are together forever."

The next bit she says so quietly, Scanlan has to lean into the room itself to hear her. "And when I'm done, we will make those Ashari interlopers pay for what they've done to you, and we will rid the world of the last of the de Rolos once and for all."

.

Cassandra could cry with relief. Finally, finally, the little bird has cried herself to sleep. It's horrible, of course, that this helpless babe has been in such acute distress for so long, but at least Cassandra has some quiet in which to hear herself think.

And all she can think about is the explosion of light and sound she'd witnessed just a short while before. She'd pressed her face to the window in this little nursery, but it faces the wrong side of the castle, so she can only guess as to what happened out there. She stokes a little fire in her chest, the tiniest ember of hope that whatever took place, it has brought her one step closer to the freedom she's been seeking since she was a small child.

She sits in a creaky old rocking chair, head in her hands, and keeps as still as she can so as to not make noise. She's starving, can't remember the last time she ate, but she's afraid to get up, afraid to do anything that would disturb the little bird. Her fears are realized, however, when the door to the nursery slams open, startling the baby into screaming wakefulness.

Cassandra lets out a choked sob as she looks up at the distressed face of a servant. "Lady Cassandra, I—"

"What have you done?" Cassandra groans, standing to tend to the baby. "She was asleep."

"Professor Anders has instructed I take you somewhere safe," he pants. "The castle is under siege."

Her stomach flips. "I'm not going anywhere."

The servant blinks in confusion. "But—Professor Anders—"

"I do not care what Professor Anders said!" Cassandra snaps. She scoops the little bird out of her bassinet. Her tiny face is red and scrunched. "Go fetch some goat's milk," she instructs. "I'll try feeding her again."

The servant dithers, clearly nervous. "I...but..."

"Go!"

He bows and disappears, and Cassandra goes to kick the door closed again. "Come now, little bird," she murmurs, bouncing the baby in her arms. "Please don't cry. I know you're scared. I'm scared, too."

The baby has not settled by the time the door flings open a second time. Cassandra, who had been pacing the room with her, spins to snap at the servant again, but the words die on her tongue when she sees Professor Anders glaring at her imperiously. "Come."

Cassandra stays rooted to the spot. "What?"

"I said come, you insolent child. We are taking the infant to the altar." He steps back to make room for her to exit the room.

She doesn't move. "I don't understand."

Professor Anders rolls his eyes. "It is not for you to understand. Now move."

Her legs tremble as she forces them forward, the baby howling desperately in her arms. She passes the professor, who scowls down at the little girl, and then he strikes off down the hall, leaving her to trip along after. They go all the way down to the ground floor, Professor Anders griping about the baby's incessant wailing as they walk. Her cries do echo around the hard walls of the castle, but there is little Cassandra can do to calm her when she herself feels like bawling.

When they reach the main hall of the the castle, Professor Anders stomps toward the massive front doors, and Cassandra hesitates, just a moment. She has an opportunity, with the professor clomping away from her quickly and decisively. It could cost her her life—will cost her her life, if she is caught—but it is her only chance to do the right thing by this tiny girl in her arms.

She runs.

As she takes off in the opposite direction, legs flying as fast as they can carry her, she can tell it takes a few moments for the professor to notice. His voice is already somewhat distant when she hears him holler, "GUARDS! QUICKLY, SEIZE LADY CASSANDRA!" She only runs faster, charging in toward the kitchen, where she knows there to be an exit out onto the lawns.

.

When Vax and Keyleth emerge from the pantry, red-eyed and exhausted, they are met with the tactfully averted eyes of Vex and Pike and the full-on gaping stare of Grog. Vax guides Keyleth back over to them, knowing full well that their argument had easily been overheard and finding he is too tired to care much about that fact.

His sister, gods bless her, gets straight to the heart of the matter. "So. While you were off being a fucking imbecile, did you manage to learn anything useful?"

Vax sighs and leans against a countertop as Keyleth slides up to sit on it. "I did, actually. Lesson the first: don't get charmed by a vampire." No one laughs, and, yes, well, nothing about this is funny. "Lesson the second: Vilya is not to be the only sacrifice in the Briarwoods' ritual."

Pike's face blooms in surprise. "There are others?"

He nods. "Five of them, beneath our very feet—or, rather, beneath the Sun Tree in the center of town. They're being kept in a cage in a room with an altar that I believe to be made of the residuum material Percy described."

Keyleth's arms are wrapped tightly around her middle. "Six people. What could they need six people for?"

Vax describes the five individuals he'd spoken with in the ritual chamber, and then relays the information that the Raven Queen had given him in their communion the night before. Pike whistles low. "Well, it makes sense."

Vax watches Keyleth's eyes flash. "What makes sense?"

Pike immediately curls in on herself apologetically. "That's not—I only meant to say that to sacrifice six people, at six different stages of life, each with magic in their blood, it sounds like the kind of ritual one would complete to achieve immortality, as the Raven Queen said."

"How do we know they all have magic in their blood?" Vex asks.

"Lady Allura would be able to explain the specifics better than I, but if the Raven Queen is right, if Vilya was chosen because of her magic, then it is a reasonable assumption that the others were chosen for the same reason."

"Vilya was chosen for her magic." The arms around Keyleth's stomach tighten. "For my magic."

Vax hears the silent confession: Keyleth believes it is her fault, that she is responsible for their daughter's abduction. There is silence in the kitchen, as none of them can find the words to explain how wrong she is, how of course she cannot bear the blame for this most horrific of sins. He sets his hand on her knee and squeezes.

Grog is the first to break the silence. "If they got magic, how come they're all locked up down there?"

Vex cocks her head to one side. "It's a fair question."

"We have methods of preventing mages from doing magic," Vax says, remembering his own interrogation of Gabe Finefirn. "It is safe to assume that they can do the same."

"So we free them!" Pike offers, excited. "Some extra spellcasters, ones who have just as much reason to hate the Briarwoods as we do, would surely be a boon to our side."

Vax begins to describe the layout of the operation beneath the castle, explaining how to get to these trapped spellcasters, but before he can get more than a few sentences in, the door to the kitchen bursts open, and with an instinctive speed, he jumps forward, placing himself between the door and others with his daggers in hand just as Grog swings his axe back in preparation and Vex nocks an arrow into her bow.

Everyone freezes. There, standing in the door, backlit by the sconces in the hall outside, is a teenage girl, dark hair streaked with white and eyes round as moons. And in her arms, shrieking and mewling in the most wonderful cacophony Vax can ever remember hearing, is his daughter.

[rugsforeverusa]

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