#this guy has a smile that is able to cure cancer

[the-labyrinth-of-me]

something something champion of light something

[eisforeidolon]

Question: I just wanted to ask you, out of all the years you've been doing this, which has been your favorite fan interaction?

Jensen: Favorite fan interaction? Whew!

Jared: Wow, that's a - I mean, we've been so blessed, man. We've had a lot of - You know what? I think as opposed to a specific instance, which I can't think of offhand? I'll think more of - this has happened a couple of times - and I've been able to kind of talk with fans and they'll say, you know they're with their friend or whatever, and it just seems like they've known each other their whole lives and then they'll go, like, 'Yeah, we met on a chat line like five years ago and then met up at a convention two years later and we're best friends.' Like, seeing connections? 'Cause obviously, my personal experience as Jared, I made a few connections doing Supernatural. [Jensen is making calm down gestures at someone in the audience] And I've got a couple friends to prove it, and I got [points at Jensen] a dude to stand up at my wedding and vice versa. So I think it's seeing that, because we can all watch just ... whatever. It's the same thing with watching sports. You know you see somebody in a Spurs jersey and I'm like, 'Hey, we're getting Wemby!' and you kinda feel like you have a connection. So I think that type of fandom - or you know, you're with your old man, he's got a cowboy hat and he's a Captain America cowboy. Cowboy Ten America! But just seeing how the show has helped not just people enjoy it by themselves, but strengthen their relationships with either their friends or family or that kind of situation.

Jensen: We used to, maybe once or twice a year we'd get Make A Wish would come to our set. And there was one in particular - it's always a real treat and we try to make it as special as possible - but it was one that will always stand out to me. And I don't even know if I can get through it without getting emotional, but it was a young lady, she was what, [to Jared] maybe 13-14 years old? And she had, I think it was maybe leukemia, or - it was something terminal -

Jared: End stage something.

Jensen: Yeah, and she came with her family and her dad was a firefighter. He had this really beautiful, ornate tattoo on his arm that was a rose that went down to where he was holding it, representing her, essentially. But what really stood out about that visit was he pulled us aside and said - through tears, big, like muscle-bound firefighter guy, through tears - was like, there's only so much that I can do as a father for my daughter, but the smiles that we bring her - he's like, the smiles that you bring her on a daily basis when she watches your show? That's something I can't bring. And so he hugged us and said thank you for making his daughter smile, even though she was dying, essentially. And that was - you know, that meant a lot to me and to Jared, and it just - It's one of those things, it's like, oh, what we do here, it does truly affect people. There's a saying in the industry, it's, 'Hey, we're not curing cancer here.' When people get crazy on set and there's egos or stress and people - it's like, hey, calm down, we're making tv, or we're making a movie here, we're not curing cancer. Like, take it easy, calm down. And we're not? But what we might be doing is giving somebody a little bit of hope, giving somebody an escape from dealing with that. And that just, uh, yeah, it just really hit home and meant a lot to us. So whoever that guy was, I don't remember his name, this was many many years ago, that left a huge impression on me.

[ladydeadpoolismyspiritanimal]

Realized I never posted this little essay here which feels criminal and since the new movie is out seems like a good time… originally post on r/OnlyFangsBG3

Astarion or Deadpool? Trick question, it's both!

Yesterday I found a cute little crossover comic of Deadpool and Astarion which I then shared because it made me smile and felt like everyone would appreciate it, but it totally got me thinking. I said in the comments of that post (and it was later confirmed by another user) that I saw or heard in an interview that Stephen Rooney had based some aspects of Astarion on Deadpool and now I can’t help but compare the two, so here is my little comparative analysis. 

I want to first establish that I will be using the comics as the basis for Deadpool’s “canon” (a term I use loosely which I will address later). I do enjoy the Deadpool movies and view them as their own unique take on his story, but being who I am as a person and my personal exposure to Deadpool, I’m going with comics. 

Rogue, Mercenary/Hitman. What’s the difference, really?

One of the most obvious similarities that comes to mind, is their proclivities for murder. Now we all know that Astarion is a rogue and a vampire, both of which are pretty good at killing. Those of you who are not as well versed in comics should know that Deadpool is a mercenary and hitman by trade. He is frequently paid to kill people for money and is typically pretty good at it. (I’d also like to point that assassin is an archetype of rogue in 5e)

Our Boys do be Fuckin’

The next similarity I’d like to address is that both these boys are canonically pansexual in their respective multiverses. Our bloody boys love everyone, no matter what parts you may or may not have, they do not discriminate. 

With Great Power comes Great Torture (I guess…)

A less fun but equally interesting similarity is that both of our (anti)heroes have suffered greatly for their power. We all know that Astarion suffered at the hands of Cazador for centuries as a slave in exchange for his vampirism/immortality and if you do choose to go through with the ascension, that’s still some 7000 souls, which isn’t exactly a small price to pay for power.

Deadpool also went through gruesome experimentation to gain his powers. In an attempt to cure his cancer, he joined the Weapon X program and was given Wolverine’s healing factor. This did save this life but instead of stopping the cancer, it just made it so that all his cells regenerated over and over including the cancer (which is why he looks the way he does). He failed out of the Weapons X program and was sent to a facility that experimented on Weapon X wash outs. It was there that he was tortured continuously and although he longed for death (even fell in love with the personification of her in the form of Lady Death) he never could, eventually taking the name Deadpool, as the people there had a “dead pool” taking bets on which of the test subjects would be the next to die. 

Driven by Revenge!

Both Astarion and Deadpool were eventually able to escape their torturers but become hellbent on revenge. Astarion is initially just elated to be free of Cazador’s control but soon realizes he can destroy him and possibly usurp his power with the profane ritual.

Deadpool also frees himself from the clutches of Dr. Killbrew, only to hunt him down intent of torturing and killing him but was actually convinced to spare him.      

Smart mouths, smooth brains

Both of these beloved chaos gremlins have notoriously smart mouths but smooth brains. We know Astarion has a particularly silver tongue and is proficient in both deception and persuasion while Deadpool is famously known as the “Merc’ with the Mouth”. We also know that when we, the player, go full ilithid, Astarion’s tasty brain is a little less wrinkly than the others and he’s always been more of a “doer than a planner” kind of a guy. The same can definitely be said for our boy, Deadpool. He’s been known to shoot first and ask questions never.  

Does killing thousands of people really make you Evil?

There exist both “good” and “evil” versions of these characters. Obviously, there is a lot of back and forth about AA vs UA and good vs evil interpretations of the character and routes and play throughs, so I’m going to use my own personal interpretation of my own personal AA and UA’s from my games. My AA was very heavily influenced and manipulated by my Durge. They sought to bring the world to its knees and bathe in its blood until they were the only two living things left.

Something similar happened to Deadpool as well in the “Deadpool kills…” series. Things get a little complicated here, but a Deadpool gets brainwashed to kill all the Marvel heroes which he does, he eventually goes on to realize, that isn’t enough, he must kill the very stories the Marvel characters are based on. Then he must kill the writers. And then every version of himself in every universe etc...

Who needs a past when the future looks so bright?

Another very interesting similarity, is that both Astarion and Deadpool have pretty murky pasts. We know that Astarion was a magistrate in Baldur’s Gate and was beat near to death by some Gur, but other than that, he doesn’t seem to remember much.

This is also true for Deadpool. He *believes* his name is Wade Wilson and that he is from Canada, was in the army and eventually became part of the Weapons X program, but it’s later revealed that he can’t really trust his own memories and his actual backstory isn’t as cut and dry as he thought. This is one of the reasons I said I was using the term “canon” loosely.

With a lot of comics, when a new writer comes in, they may retcon and change a lot and this is especially true for Deadpool but one of the best things about this character is that he exists in infinite realities so, really, anything you imagine could, theoretically, be considered “canon”. 

 Conclusion

This leads me to my final thoughts. Not only could there be a universe where they are in love but there could also be a universe where they are *the same person*.

You’re welcome for the fanart I had to create for this.

Anyway. I'm sure there are more that I've missed but if you made it this far, thank you for coming to my TED talk.

[440mxs-wife]

Mystery Date

Pairing: Bucky x F!Reader. Other Characters: Steve Rogers, Sam Wilson, Natasha Romanoff, Wanda Maximoff, Tony Stark, Peggy Carter. Mentioned: Peter Parker, Clint Barton, Thor Odinson, Loki Laufeyson, Sharon Carter, Bruce Banner, Vision.

Word Count: 7982

Warnings: Friends to lovers, mutual pining, a bit of angst, minor physical assault (not Bucky), self-doubt. Fluffy. So, so fluffy.

Summary: Tony Stark is holding one of his famous fund-raising galas, and has the brilliant idea to hold a “Date Auction”. He has chosen you, his personal assistant, to participate. A certain super soldier sees it as his opportunity to finally ask you out, something he’s been wanting to do since a certain incident with a water balloon. Will Bucky’s plan to woo you be successful, or will you both let your self-doubt get in the way?

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

"What's this?" you asked as you looked up to see your boss and friend of more than ten years, Tony Stark, with an expectant expression on his face. Tony had dropped a cream-colored envelope on your desk. You raised an eyebrow at him before carefully opening it.

The larger, outer envelope opened to reveal a smaller one with your name written in scrolling, sweeping gold lettering. Inside the smaller envelope was a card announcing the date and time for Tony's latest charity gala.

"I don't understand, Tony," you remarked. "I don't think I've ever gotten a formal invitation like this before to one of your galas. Usually, I get a memo from you saying whether 'attendance is mandatory', then I pass it along to the team. What makes this one so different than the others?" you inquired.

"Read the fine print at the bottom, darling," Tony replied.

You scrunched up your eyes trying to read the footnote. Once you were able to decipher the words, you felt all the blood drain from your face. "'Date Auction'?? Ohhhh, Tony, please tell me you didn't--" you started but stopped when you saw him nodding, a smug smile on his face.

"If I told you I didn't submit your name for the auction, then I'd be lying," he smirked. At the crestfallen look on your face, he tried to lighten the mood. "Oh, come on, it'll be fun! It's not for a couple of months, so you'll have time to get used to the idea," Tony reasoned.

You brought your hands up to cover your face. "This has disaster written all over it, Tony. I don't think two months is long enough for me to get used to the idea," you retorted then softened. "However, it is for charity, so I'll do it. I'm not happy about it, but I'll do it. Not like I'll get anyone to bid on a date with me anyway," you muttered the last part.

Unbeknownst to you, Tony heard your last comment, causing him to roll his eyes. "Well, add it to your calendar so you won't forget about it. You never know, you could end up being some guy's dream date come true," he winked.

"I highly doubt that, but I'll keep it in mind, Tony. Thank you," you answered as you watched him saunter out of your office. Once he was out of sight, you leaned forward and knocked your forehead on your desk a couple of times. "Why, Tony? Why would you nominate me?" you asked, even though no one was there to answer.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Someone had entered your office, because before you knew it, you heard a throat being cleared. "Is everything all right, doll?" James.

You quickly lifted your head off your desk and focused on the visitor in your office. "Good morning, Sergeant Barnes," you replied with a smile.

God, she's gorgeous, Bucky thought. That smile alone could probably cure cancer or something, he mused. "Is everything all right?" he wondered again.

"With me? Oh yeah, everything's fine, just peachy, don't you worry, Sergeant Barnes," you chuckled nervously. You picked up the gala invitation, then quickly set it aside with a shaking hand and returned your attention to Bucky.

"Oh hey, you got an invite too? That's great! I-I mean it'll be great to see you there," he added anxiously. "And we've talked about this. You don't have to be so formal, doll. 'James' or 'Bucky' works just fine," he winked.

Damn that wink, you silently groaned. He's a warrior for sure, but he's also kind, considerate, funny and extremely sexy, you thought. "Yes, I'll be there. Not only is attendance mandatory, but Tony signed me up for the 'Date Auction'," you muttered. "I mean, can you imagine anyone wanting to spend money for a date with me? Whatever possessed Tony to do something like that?" you retorted, arms outstretched and then dropping to your sides.

I can definitely imagine it, Bucky mused to himself. He thought for another minute before responding to you. "Hmm. Don't tell him I said this, but I'm sure Tony's intentions were good. I mean, think about it. Raising money for charity, and as a bonus, someone has a chance to get to know you. Even if it's just for one evening, that person gets to find out how special you are. Not as if they shouldn't already know, though," he remarked softly.

His words nearly made you melt into a puddle on the floor. "What a lovely thing to say. Thank you, James. Now that you mention it, I suppose in some way it's a win-win," you replied. "If I happen to have any more doubts about doing this 'Date Auction', I'll try to keep in mind what you said," you promised. "By the way, not that I mind, but what brings you up here to my office?"

Bucky nervously shifted his weight from one foot to the other. "Well, I was....um, I was wondering if you've had a chance to have lunch yet today," he answered.

Before you could respond, Bucky's best friend, Steve Rogers, entered your office. "Hey, there you are, Buck. Fury's here, and he has something he needs to go over with us," Steve explained.

Bucky looked helplessly torn between you and Steve. He wanted to take you to lunch, but he had to go with Steve to what would likely become a briefing for an upcoming mission. "I'm so sorry, doll, I--"

You chuckled and laid a hand on his forearm, unable to ignore the jolt of electricity shooting up your arm at the contact. "It's all right, James. No apologies necessary. Let me know when your next free time slot is, and we'll go from there," you suggested with a wink and a smile.

Bucky returned your smile tenfold, which made him look that much more handsome, if that was even possible. "Thanks, angel. I promise I'll let you know the next time I'm free for lunch. Or for anything else," he waggled his eyebrows. Bucky lifted your hand from his arm and gently pressed his lips to your knuckles. Steve playfully rolled his eyes and waved goodbye to you as he guided Bucky towards the conference room.

You shook your head in amusement at the two super soldiers as they walked out of your office. Going to Tony's gala and participating in the auction didn't seem to fill you with as much dread anymore, not after what Bucky said. You were a little concerned about who the highest bidder might be, but decided that was another problem for another day.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

FLASHBACK

Sergeant James Buchanan Barnes. Your first meaningful encounter with him was when you were on your lunch break in the green space Tony had built as part of the compound. There was a path for walking, with benches every 100 yards or so for resting and relaxing. Large trees dotted the landscape and provided areas for picnics or lounging under for shade.

On one side, there were extensive flower gardens, which reminded Thor and Loki of their mother's garden at the palace on Asgard. Vegetable gardens were on the other, carefully tended by Wanda and Vision, along with a strawberry patch. Strawberries were a weakness of yours, and usually the couple looked the other way if you snagged the occasional berry for a snack.

That day you were taking advantage of the beautiful spring weather by having lunch outside, then relaxing with a book afterwards. Wanda and Vision were in their garden again, and there was a water balloon fight going on. Peter, Sam, Steve, Bucky, Clint, and even Tony and Bruce were all up to their elbows in the shenanigans going on.

Because the water balloon battle was some distance away from you, you didn't consider them a direct threat. Turns out that maybe you should've been a bit more aware of your surroundings.

"Heads up!" you heard then felt a water balloon break over your head, drenching you and your book.

"Oh, doll, I am so sorry! I swear we weren't aiming anywhere near you!" Bucky tried to assure you. He turned to the others as if to say, "Really guys?". Unfortunately, they didn't notice his glare, though, because they were all too busy rolling on the ground and laughing.

He turned back to face you, a look of complete remorse on his face and the saddest puppy-dog eyes you'd ever seen. There was no way you could be, much less stay, angry with him, or at anyone else involved. They were your friends, and you knew they meant no harm. With the pressures they were constantly under, they were entitled to blow off a little steam now and then. Even if it meant going about it by acting like complete and utter children.

"Sergeant Barnes, do you have any more water balloons on you?" you asked, a hand on one hip.

"Yes, ma'am," he replied meekly, reaching into the bag hanging from his belt. He placed one in your outstretched hand, cowering while he waited for it to be broken over top of his head in retribution.

You got into a pitching stance and surveyed the field. Your eyes narrowed and an evil smirk grew across your face. You turned to Bucky, winked and whispered, "Watch this." He did so out of curiosity, not having a clue of your next move. "HEY CAP!" you yelled.

Before your words could register in Steve's mind, he looked up just in time to get hit by a water balloon square in the chest. Everyone except Tony was standing in amazement, because he knew of your sports skills. Steve was a good 25 feet away from you, yet you hit him with perfect aim. The others had all collapsed on the grass again, rolling from laughter at a drenched Captain America.

"How did you do that? Doll, that was amazing!" Bucky remarked in awe.

You shrugged and gave him a smug grin. "Muscle memory from three years of softball in high school. Guess I've still got it," you added and gave him a wave.

Bucky remained rooted to the spot as he watched you walk back into the Tower, your lunch break over. He didn't care that as he stood there, his friends kept pelting him with water balloons, because he was too focused on your retreating form. "See you around, beautiful," he remarked to himself.

Back at your desk, you blotted the ends of your hair with some paper towels. As you rid your hair of the excess water, you thought back on your encounter with the attractive Sergeant Barnes. His soulful, ocean blue eyes made you want to dive in and never come up for air. The strands of his hair too short for the hair-tie were the ones your fingers were aching to tenderly tuck behind an ear. "See you soon, handsome," you whispered to yourself before resuming your work day with a smile.

END OF FLASHBACK

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Over in the conference room, Bucky was having a difficult time concentrating on the briefing being conducted by Fury. His mind kept drifting back to the conversation he had with you in your office. More than once during the meeting, Steve had to jolt Bucky's chair from behind to make sure his friend was paying attention.

Fifteen minutes later, Fury had concluded his presentation. "That's all I have for now, but if anything changes, I'll be in touch. Gentlemen," Fury nodded briskly at Bucky and Steve before leaving the conference room.

When everyone had left, Steve nudged Bucky's shoulder to get his attention. "What was that, Buck? I hope you were paying attention, because if this goes like Fury says, we'll need your full concentration," he warned.

"I'm fine, Steve. Nothin' to worry about, I'll be ready if Fury gives the 'go' order," Bucky replied.

"So what--or should I say who--were you really thinking about, because I know your mind wasn't on the mission," Steve smirked.

A shy smile crept across Bucky's face as he told his friend he was thinking about you. "Ah, Stevie, she's amazing. Sweet, intelligent, funny and gorgeous as hell. A bit sassy sometimes, but I like a little fire in a woman," he grinned. "It's gonna happen, punk, I know it will. Just need a little more time to develop a plan."

"Don't forget, we've got Stark's gala coming up, and I heard she's on the list for the 'Date Auction'," Steve pointed out.

Bucky snapped his fingers. "Hey, that's right! It's the perfect opportunity to ask her out on a date. I don't think I'd have the stones to do it otherwise," he muttered.

"I'll say this much, Buck, you've got good taste. She seems like the perfect woman for you," Steve remarked.

"Yeah, well, I'm still going to need your help on this one, punk. Here's what I've got so far," he replied. Bucky slung his arm around his best friend's shoulder as they walked down the hall, formulating a plan.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

In the weeks leading up to the gala, you were busier than ever, making sure last-minute details were in place. More often than not, it left very little time for you to take any breaks for meals or even a refill on your coffee. Many were the nights you stayed late at the office making sure certain tasks were completed before you felt comfortable enough to leave.

Wanda had visited you on one of your late nights to chat with you and bring you a bowl of strawberries from her garden. She was talking to the others about how many extra hours you were putting in when Bucky walked into the kitchen for a snack. He became concerned that you were trying to do too much and not taking care of yourself, so he slipped out to go talk to you.

Bucky took the elevator up to your floor, and he wasn't surprised to see that yours was the only office light on. "Oh, doll," he sighed. From where he stood, he could see you staring at your computer screen, your chin resting in your hand, elbow propped up on your desk. Bucky quietly wandered over to your office and leaned against the door frame, waiting for you to look up.

Your eyes drifted over to your doorway and was a little startled to see Bucky standing there, but still managed to flash him a tired smile. "Good evening, Sergeant Bar--James," you corrected yourself. "What brings you up here?" you wondered.

Bucky shook his head. "I think the real question is, what are you still doing here, hmm?" he asked. "It's way past quittin' time," he pointed out. Bucky pushed off of the door frame and took a stand behind one of the chairs in front of your desk.

You leaned back in your chair and let out a deep sigh. "I know, I know. There's just one more thing I need to finish, and then I can leave the rest for tomorrow," you explained.

Bucky walked from his seat and came around to your side of the desk. He put his hand over the one you were using to run the mouse. He leaned forward until his lips were right above your ear. "Now, I know you're used to taking care of everything and everyone, but you have to slow down, darlin'. You've got to take care of yourself in there somewhere," he reminded you.

The rich baritone of his voice so near your ear caused a tingle to run up and down your spine and your heart to race. If you visibly shuddered at his words, he didn't seem to notice. You sucked in a deep breath to steady your hammering heart. "Okay," you whispered. "You're right, I can be done for now. I suppose the rest of this can wait till morning," you agreed as you logged out of your machine.

Bucky stepped back some to let you gather your purse and other belongings before standing up from your desk. You shook out your arms and legs a bit to regain circulation and heard Bucky's laugh. "That's a cute little dance you've got there, sweetheart," he chuckled. "How about I walk you down to your car, just to be on the safe side, okay?" he offered. He held out his arm, waiting for you to take it.

And they say chivalry is dead, you thought. It's alive and well as far as I can tell. "That's very kind of you, James. Thank you," you replied as you looped your arm through his.

All too soon, Bucky had finished escorting you to your car in the Tower's parking garage. He let out a low whistle of appreciation when he saw your car, a royal blue 1968 Chevy Nova. "Whoa, doll, is this your car?" he asked in awe.

"Yep, this is my baby. She belonged to my dad, but he left her to me in his will a long time ago," you responded.

Bucky expressed his condolences, which you acknowledged. He took one step closer to you and reached under your chin with his index finger, tilting your head up to meet his gaze. "Remember, take care of yourself and get some rest. We need ya around here," he added softly.

"I promise. In fact, I think I hear a long, luxurious bubble bath calling my name when I get home. I'll see you in the morning, Sarge," you winked and gave him a salute.

Bucky clutched his chest, rolled his eyes upward and pretended to faint, which triggered your laughter. It was definitely one of his favorite sounds, and he knew he'd do almost anything to get you to do it again. He waited until you had backed out of your parking space and waved goodbye before returning to the Tower. What a woman, he thought as he rode the elevator back to his room.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Shortly after Bucky returned to his room, Steve knocked on his door and asked where he'd been. Bucky explained how Wanda told everyone about all the extra time you'd been putting in, and how he was concerned about you.

"Stevie, I went up there, and she was the only one still working," Bucky told his friend with a frown. He mentioned how he convinced you to quit for the night. That he told you about taking care of yourself, then he talked about walking you to your car.

"So, it's obvious you like her, how much longer are you going to wait before you ask her out?" Steve asked.

"Not much longer. She said she'd be at Stark's gala, and is one of the 'dates' up for auction. I'll just have to make sure I'm the highest bidder," Bucky remarked. "But I still need to figure out how to do this."

Steve was happy that Bucky had found himself someone special, even better that it was you. When he found Bucky in your office before the last mission briefing, Steve could tell that something was brewing between the two of you. Steve grinned and rubbed his hands together in anticipation. "Okay, let's come up with a plan, man."

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

A couple of weeks before the gala, Tony let you have the day off to go shopping for the main event. You decided to turn it into a 'Girls Day Out', and invited Wanda, Natasha, Sharon and Peggy to go with you. The other ladies didn't seem to have much trouble picking out what looked good on them. You, however, sometimes wanted second and even third opinions before finally settling on a dress.

It was at the third store that you found it. When the saleslady brought one out from the back, you knew it was your dress. It was a floor-length, strapless A-line gown made from navy blue satin with tulle overlay. The best part was the star-shaped sequins that sparkled as you moved. As each tiny sequin caught the light, it made it look like you were wearing a piece of the night sky itself.

You stepped out of the dressing room to show your shopping companions. Their reactions were all the confirmation you needed that you had chosen the perfect dress. Nat kept joking that she was going to find the Big Dipper among all of the sequins. Peggy and Sharon were going on about what shoes you should wear with the dress.

Wanda had yet to voice her opinion, but when she did, it made you a little nervous. "Wanda? What do you think?" you asked.

"Oh, I love it," she replied with a smug grin. "In fact, I know of a certain super soldier who will likely not be able to keep his eyes off of you," she smirked.

"Wha--I mean who?" you stammered.

"Bucky is a huge science enthusiast, and space exploration is one of his favorite subjects," Peggy supplied. "If you go in there, with that dress on, and he even catches a glimpse of you? He won't be able to resist you, darling."

"Not that he can keep his eyes off of you as it is," Natasha snorted.

I'm sure I don't know what you're talking about, Natasha," you retorted. You felt your cheeks grow warm at her remark that Bucky might have even a smidgen of interest in you.

You looked around some more for shoes to match, and found a pair of silver T-strap heels that matched perfectly. After paying for your purchases, the five of you found a sidewalk café to get a quick bite to eat and something cool to drink. Wanda suggested that everyone should get ready in the Tower, so she offered to let you store your dress in her room.

After your afternoon snack, you all went back to the Tower, where you ran into Bucky and Steve returning from their latest mission. Peggy handed off her shopping bags so she could run to Steve, nearly tackling him. Bucky chuckled and shook his head at his best friends' antics, then his eyes fell to yours.

"Hiya doll, looks like you did some shopping today too, what'd you get?" he asked as he tried to peek inside the bags.

Much to his dismay, you pulled them out of his reach before he could see anything. "Nope, no peeking, Sarge. You'll just have to wait for a couple of weeks like all the other guys," you remarked airily. You almost lost your resolve at seeing his lower lip stuck out in a playful pout. Just the thought of how much you'd like to kiss his protruding lip had you feeling the heat blooming on your cheeks.

You caught Wanda's arm as she walked by and asked to be let into her room so you could hang up your dress and stow your other packages. She let F.R.I.D.A.Y. know that you were authorized, and you started down the hall towards her room.

What you didn't see was Wanda catching Bucky's eye and motioning for him to follow you. She didn't have to read his thoughts to know he was as enamored with you as you were with him. The two of you deserved to be happy, and if it was with each other, so much the better.

Bucky shot her a puzzled look to confirm what Wanda was suggesting and got a smile and nod from her in return. He grinned back and took off down the hall. The closer he got to Wanda's door, the quieter his steps became until he was right in the doorway. He watched as you hummed to yourself while finding a place to hide your treasures.

Closing the closet door, you turned to walk out, only to shriek in surprise when you see Bucky's towering form silently observing you. "Holy macaroni, Sarge! Warn a gal next time, will ya? Clear your throat, stomp your feet, something!" you managed to get out while trying to catch your breath.

Bucky flashes you one of his lazy smiles. "Well now, what fun would that be? Besides, I was a trained assassin, doll. Wouldn't have been in my best interest to make a lot of noise, now would it?" he teased.

You wandered over to where he was standing and laid a hand on his chest, palm down. "You sure have this 'lurking in doorways' part down pretty well," you replied with a wry smile. "Every time I see you, it seems you've been watching me for some time before I notice. However, you must have something better to do than watch me. 'M not that interesting, James," you muttered, dropping your hands.

Bucky leaned in close, almost to where your noses were touching. "Angel, you'd be surprised at the intel I've gathered about you just by silent observation," he remarked softly. He could hear your heart rate increase the closer he got to you. "And what I've picked up is quite interesting, at least to me."

"Is that so?" you whispered. Bucky nodded then took your hands in his before moving forward that fraction of an inch closer to you. However, before his lips could meet yours, you heard Tony calling for you from the Common Room. Bucky stepped back and held out his arm for you to take as you both returned to the others. Your arm tucked in close to Bucky's side felt comfortable and completely natural, like you'd been doing it for years. It wasn't a feeling you wanted to end anytime soon, either.

You somehow missed the knowing looks passed between your friends while you and Bucky chatted on the way down the hall. When someone mentioned ordering take-out, you quickly checked your watch. "Oh my goodness! I wish I could stay, but I promised my niece I'd take her out to dinner. She made straight A's this semester!" Everyone bid you their goodbyes and their congratulations for your niece.

Slipping your hand from Bucky's hold, you immediately miss his warmth as you start to walk to the elevators. "Hey sweetheart, wait up, I'll walk you to your car," Bucky calls and hurries to catch up. He takes your hand in his and intertwines your fingers, then grins down at you. To his surprise, you didn't pull your hand away. When you reach the elevators and push the button, you return his smile and thank him for being so charming.

"Well, well, well," Tony murmured. "Seems like the Tin Man has met his Dorothy, wouldn't you say?" he remarked. At first he wasn't sure he liked the idea of you and Bucky as a couple. However, he was starting to change his mind when he saw the sparks flying from the obvious attraction you had for each other.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

The night of the gala was a flurry of activity, with all of the women gathering in Wanda's suite. All of you were in various stages of getting ready. Some were helping with hair and makeup, while others were helping to secure fancy ball gowns to bodies.

Before all of you walked out the door to meet the guys, you suggested a picture to mark the occasion. The five of you stood in a line, arms linked behind each other, all with wide smiles on your faces. I'm going to remember this night forever, you thought as you examined the picture on your phone. You didn't even recognize yourself, but there you were in the middle of it all.

Wanda peered over your shoulder at the photo and squeezed your arm. "You look gorgeous, honey. You're gonna knock Bucky's socks off," she remarked.

"Really? Oh Wanda, I really like him, he's so charming and considerate and he makes my heart race every time I'm around him. Only...." you trailed off.

"'Only' what?" she asked.

"Only I have no idea if I do the same for him. I'm not an Avenger, I don't have special abilities like you all do, I'm just....me," you muttered.

"You don't need to have 'special abilities', and that's not why Bucky's interested in you. He's drawn to you because he thinks you are wonderful just being yourself. Trust me, Bucky wants to ask you out, but he's got the same doubts about himself as you do about yourself. If he bids on you for the auction, that should tell you that he's serious about going on a date with you," Wanda reasoned.

You thought about it a little longer and concluded that Wanda was right. You would keep an eye on the crowd, and if Bucky bid on you, then it was his way of telling you he wanted to be with you. When Tony first approached you about taking part in the date auction, you weren't sure it was a good idea. Now, it looked like it might not have been such a bad idea after all. It seemed to be helping you get closer to Bucky, which was something you were quite in favor of.

"Let's go, my friend, our men are waiting!" Wanda exclaimed as she took your hand and practically dragged you down the hall.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Bucky paced nervously in the Common Room, waiting for you to appear. Everyone else had already paired up, Tony with Pepper, Steve and Peggy, Wanda and Vision, even Sam had Sharon. Even if he couldn't quite yet call you 'his', he considered himself lucky to have you on his arm.

When he saw you striding gracefully to where everyone had gathered, all conversation abruptly ceased. Which was good, because Bucky's mouth had gone as dry as the Sahara and all coherent thought had flown out the window. He was so mesmerized by the sight before him, that he wouldn't have been able to say anything intelligible if he'd tried.

You stopped a few paces before him, waiting for Bucky to greet you. He surprised you by bowing to you as if you were royalty, while you returned the gesture with a curtsy. Bucky held out his hand, and you placed yours in it without hesitation. He brought your hand to his lips and placed a lingering kiss to the back of it. You could feel his smile against your skin as he made eye contact with you.

"Good evening, my lady. I don't know what to say, except....wow, you look like an angel on Earth," Bucky finally managed to say.

You giggled softly at his being flustered. "Good evening, kind sir. You look devilishly handsome, I would say," you replied demurely.

The two of you stood admiring each other until Sam broke the silence. "Uh, are y'all gonna stand there and stare at each other all night, or can we please get to our table? Dinner's being served, and I'm hungry!" he declared.

True to his gentlemanly ways, Bucky held out his arm for you to take. "Shall we, my angel?" he asked softly. You nodded as you looped your arm around his and felt an overwhelming sense of security as he tucked you close to his side.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Since Tony never passed up an opportunity to pull out all the stops, especially when it came to food, dinner was a four-course event. Bucky sat in the chair to your left, but before settling in himself, he held out your chair for you and helped you get seated. As he moved behind you to get to his seat, you felt a ghosting of fingertips dance across your neck, causing you to shudder. When you caught Bucky's eye, he had a satisfied grin on his face but neither of you said a word.

After dinner, some of the tables were cleared to reveal the dance floor. The first ones on their feet were Steve and Peggy, of course, followed by Tony and Pepper. Right before you thought you might not get the chance, Bucky stood up from his chair and held out his hand. "May I have this dance?" he asked.

You placed your hand in his and allowed him to lead you to the dance floor. He guided your left hand to rest at his shoulder, while he put his right hand at your waist. He clasped your right hand and before he took his first step, he winked. You giggled and he looked at you with one eyebrow raised as if to ask if you were ready. You nodded and the next thing you knew, Bucky had you gliding around the dance floor with him.

During your second dance, you were feeling a little more comfortable in Bucky's arms. You tilted your head up to meet his intense blue-eyed gaze and nearly melted.  "Hav--having a good time, James?" you asked.

"Of course I am," Bucky replied with a grin. "And why wouldn't I be? I have the best-looking dame in the place, right here, in my arms," he answered. His eyes never left yours as the two of you continued to wind your way around the dance floor.

At the close of your third dance with Bucky, you heard Tony clear his throat into the microphone. "Good evening, good evening, good evening everyone! Hope you all enjoyed the food, the drinks and of course, the dancing," he remarked with a waggle of his eyebrows. "We've reached the point in our evening where you can really let your wallets do the talking. That's right, it's time for our 'Date Auction!" he exclaimed.

You only barely resisted the urge to roll your eyes at Tony onstage. "Guess I'd better head backstage and wait my turn," you remarked. The last thing you wanted to do was to leave the comfort of Bucky's arms, but you had made a promise to Tony.

When you turned back around to face Bucky to say goodbye, you noticed that he seemed to be getting closer to you. His hand left your waist and reached up so his knuckles could graze your cheek. "You've got this, angel. Don't pay any attention to what the numbers say. As far as I'm concerned, you're priceless," he whispered, then pressed a lingering kiss to your forehead.

The touch of his soft, warm lips against your skin was nothing short of amazing. Your eyes fluttered closed and you savored the feeling, however brief it was. A tiny blissful sigh escaped, and you could swear you heard Bucky's laughter rumble through his chest.

"I should go," you whispered, your eyes slowly opening again. Before you left, you stood on tiptoes to give Bucky a peck on the cheek. "Thanks for the dances, Sarge," you remarked softly, then headed behind the curtain to wait your turn onstage.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Bucky listened while Tony was listing the rules for the auction. Bids would be done in at least $5,000.00 increments, and payment was required at the end of the night. The "dates" would be informed of their winning companion within one week of the auction. Also, bids were accepted by phone, which worked to Bucky's advantage. This way, he would win the auction, giving him the perfect opportunity to tell you how he felt about you.

Steve and Sam did their best to keep Bucky occupied until it was your turn on the stage. They made sure he had a drink in his hand at all times, even though the alcohol didn't affect him. It was more like a "grounding object", something to keep his focus until you came back out.

When it was finally your turn, you walked out from behind the curtain when Tony introduced you by name. Your cheeks grew warm when your friends whistled and cheered for you. Tony explained that you were personal assistant to him and the other Avengers. He mentioned that in your spare time, you like to read, watch movies and hang out with friends. Tony also pointed out that you are somewhat of a genius in the kitchen. He also called you one of his best friends that he was lucky to have in his life.

"We'll start the bidding at....oh, let's say $10,000.00. Anyone? Ten grand?" Tony called.

"I'm sure I could find something for her to 'assist' me with," John Walker remarked. He had arrived after dinner, but with a head start on his drinking by the time he reached the event.

Bucky turned to glare at Walker, having heard his remark about you. No one talks to you like that while I'm around, he seethed. The expression on Steve's face told Bucky not to engage with Walker, and instead to focus on how beautiful you looked on stage.

After the opening bid of $10,000.00 was accepted, the total kept going up and up until it reached $50,000.00. Most of the bids were from Walker, with your friends chiming in every so often to try and outbid him. For his part, Bucky was submitting bids through Bruce, who kept track while watching from backstage.

Walker's snide remarks didn't stop either, and it was getting more and more difficult for Bucky to ignore them. One that really got under Bucky's skin was Walker's comment about your dress. His friend's wife said she admired it, saying that it looked like stars in the sky. Walker laughed and blurted out that he'd like to hold your 'heavenly body' next to his. He said one night with him is all you'd need to be counting stars.

By this time, it was down to Walker and the anonymous bidder on the phone. As it reached $75,000.00, Walker started to hold off on submitting a new bid. "All right, $85,000.00," Walker sounded and looked defeated.

Bruce stepped out from behind the curtain and handed Tony a folded slip of paper. Tony opened it and as he read, a smile grew across his face. "Ladies and gentlemen, we have our highest bid of the night. $100,000.00 for a date with this lovely lady right here," he motioned in your direction. "Going once! Going twice! Sold for $100,000.00 to your mystery date," Tony smirked. "Congratulations, sweet pea. Knew you'd be good for this," he murmured in your ear.

"Thank you, Tony. I did have fun tonight, but don't let that go to your head," you giggled. A commotion in the ballroom drew your attention over to where you had been sitting with Bucky. Tony also heard it and started walking over with you following to where Bucky and Walker were standing toe-to-toe, glaring at each other.

"Walker, why don't you just go home and sleep it off. No need for things to get physical, you know," Tony remarked.

But Walker was in no mood to back down. "Tell that to him, he's the one who started it!" Walker pointed towards Bucky.

Bucky was not backing off either. "All you've said tonight is a bunch of crude comments about the women up there on stage tonight, especially her!" he motioned to you. "And I'm done listening to it."

Walker leaned back a bit and crossed his arms over his chest. "What's it matter to you anyway, Barnes? If you're so hung up on the girl and wanting a date with her, why didn't you bid against me even one time?" Walker accused.

An audible gasp left your mouth and you took a couple of steps back. Bucky reached out his hand to try and stop you from leaving, but you were just out of his reach. "Sweetheart, please. I promise I can explain," he tried.

You didn't want Bucky or anyone else to see how upset you were, so you took a deep breath to regain your composure. "You know, James, it's okay. You don't owe me an explanation. Goodnight everyone," you replied with a watery smile. Then you turned on your heel, picked up your skirts and headed for the elevator.

Bucky wanted so badly to run after you and explain that it was his name was on the piece of paper that Bruce handed to Tony with the winning bid. He also knew that you might not be in the right frame of mind to hear what he had to say. With a heavy heart, he stood in silence with the others and watched you rush out of the ballroom.

"Jeez, sure glad I didn't win a date with her. Too emotional and not even that pretty up close," Walker muttered, breaking the silence. In a flash, Bucky's fist shot out and connected with Walker's jaw, knocking him to the ground.

Bucky reached down and grabbed Walker by his coat lapels. "Don't let me ever again hear you talk about her or any other woman like you were earlier. You don't want to know what'll happen if I find out," Bucky growled in Walker's face then dropped him so he landed on the floor.

Walker grabbed Tony's arm as he strode past him. "Ain't you gonna do anything about him?" he retorted, referring to Bucky.

Tony yanked his arm away from Walker then pressed his index finger to his chin, pretending to think. "Hmm. Nope. Don't think so," he answered and left the ballroom, turning off the lights as he exited.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

During the week after the auction, you threw yourself into work to distract you from the events after the auction. You finished up the paperwork and made sure it was ready to submit it to Tony for him to sign. There was still no word on who your "mystery date" was, which frustrated you. It made you think that whoever won the auction probably changed his mind about going on the date.

You thought back on your conversation with Wanda before the gala. She told you that Bucky had wanted to ask you out, but that he had doubts about himself. In her logic, if Bucky bid on you at the auction, that was how he was going to ask you out on a date. "I guess there goes that theory," you mumbled to yourself.

A little while later, you checked your watch and saw that it was almost time for your lunch break. However, you decided to push it back to get one more thing done. Working on the gala meant that your other duties had gotten a little out of control, so it looked like a string of late nights again.

Some time later, you heard someone just outside your office, clearing his throat to get your attention. You looked up to see Bucky leaning against your door frame, a wary smile gracing his face.

You briefly returned his smile then returned your focus to the paperwork on your desk. "James, is there something I can help you with?" you inquired.

"Maybe. Do you have a few minutes?" he asked. You nodded and gestured towards the open chair in front of your desk. After Bucky sat down, you clasped your hands in front of you and waited for him to speak.

"Soooo, what can I 'maybe' help you with?" you wondered.

"I need some advice," he replied, nervously rubbing his hand on the back of his neck. "It's about a woman," he added.

You froze in place, not sure if you wanted to continue the conversation. But you agreed to help, and so you asked, "What advice do you need about a woman? I thought you had everything pretty well covered in that area."

"Not with this woman," Bucky answered.

"All right, what's so special about her that you need my advice?" you were growing a little impatient with his cryptic answers.

"There are so many things special about her. She's smart, funny and kind to everyone around her. Not to mention, she's gorgeous," he mentioned.

You swallowed thickly at his description of his mystery dream woman. "Sounds perfect," you replied hoarsely.

"Mmm, not perfect, but perfect for me. When I see her smile, it brightens my day, and her laughter is definitely the best medicine. She has no idea what she does to me just by being herself," Bucky admitted softly.

"Maybe you should tell her how you feel, ask her out. I mean, any woman would be lucky to know you feel this way about her," you remarked.

Your eyes followed Bucky as he got up from his chair and walked over to your side of the desk. He reached out and tucked a piece of hair behind your ear, then tilted your head up to meet his gaze. "That's some good advice, sweetheart," he whispered right before he leaned down and brushed his soft pillowy lips to yours. He pulled back to see the surprised look in your eyes and grinned.

"James? I'm not sure I understand," you replied, puzzled.

"I have a confession to make, doll. I was the anonymous bidder on the phone at the gala," he admitted.

Your eyes widened in astonishment at his revelation. "The slip of paper that Bruce handed to Tony, that was you?" you asked. When he nodded, a wave of embarrassment washed over you for jumping to conclusions based on something John Walker said. "Oh, James, I'm so sorry," you murmured. "I should've let you explain that night, instead of running off like that," you remarked, dropping your gaze.

Bucky took your hands and pulled you up from your chair. "No, honey, it's my fault. I didn't exactly go about this in the right way. You see, I've been wanting to ask you out ever since you pelted Stevie with that water balloon," he chuckled.

You giggled in return. "Really?" you asked in surprise.

"Really and truly, I promise. You know, later on when I came here to ask you to lunch, I thought that could maybe lead to dinner. But then Steve interrupted about that meeting with Fury. When the gala came up, I thought it would be the perfect opportunity to finally have a date with you," Bucky explained.

"But James, if you had asked, I definitely would've said yes to your dinner date. You didn't have to go to all that trouble and all that money just for me," you replied in a small voice.

"Baby, I don't care about the money. To me, you're worth every effort, every penny and so much more," he declared. "So let me ask you now. Would you do me the honor of accompanying me to dinner?" he asked.

You put one hand on his face, caressing the apple of his cheek with your thumb. Bucky seemed to melt into your tender touch. "I would be honored to join you for dinner, James. One question though? Does this dinner entitle me to a kiss afterwards?" you inquired with a shy smile.

Bucky grinned and brushed the back of his hand on your cheeks. "You can have all the kisses you want, whenever you want, pretty girl," he replied. "In fact," he began, then dipped his head towards you to capture your lips with his own. You let out a small, surprised yelp, which was quickly muffled when your mouths connected. The way his mouth moved against yours was incredible and nearly transported you to an alternate dimension. He seemed to know the exact right amount of pressure and how to make you chase his lips because you wanted more.

"I've wanted to kiss you since that day on the field, doll," Bucky whispered. He curled his hand around your neck and pulled you closer to dive in for another kiss. He was surprised to notice your tongue as it traced along the seam of his lips wanting access, which he readily granted. You felt him smile against your lips right before his tongue joined with yours in the exploration of your mouth.

The kiss broke apart, leaving you and Bucky panting, trying to catch your breaths. You raised your hand to cradle his face, gently stroking his cheek with your thumb. He leaned into your touch until his forehead was resting on yours, reveling in the closeness. "I think that's about as long as I've been waiting for you to kiss me, James," you revealed with a grin. "You definitely don't have to wait that long before doing it again, though," you added.

Bucky chuckled and nuzzled his nose with yours, working his way down to peck your lips. But he was interrupted by Tony wandering into your office without so much as a knock first. "Hey there, I was wondering you have the final numbers yet for the--" Tony's rambling was cut short when he noticed you and Bucky together. "Oh. I see. Never mind then. Carry on--but....um not here. Take the rest of the day off," he granted as he backed out of your office.

"Thank you, Tony," you called after him, earning a wave without a backwards glance. "Well, it seems that I have an opening in my schedule. Shall we get to dinner a little early, Sarge?" you suggested.

"Sounds perfect to me, doll. Doesn't matter what we do, as long as I'm with you," Bucky replied. He tightened his embrace and grinned before he pecking a kiss to your nose, causing you to giggle.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Tags:

@katelyn--renee, @downanddirtydean, @lassie-bird, @colereads, @phoenixisred, @rslizj​

[archived-kin]

late with lucifer

note from kin: i just realised that the title sounds like a talk show ffs

anyway get ready to get SAPPY (and also get ready for a low-key out of character lucifer)

fandom: obey me!

character(s): gn! reader, lucifer, satan, beelzebub, belphie

pairing(s): lucifer/reader

warning(s): brief existential dread right at the end but i think it’s relatively light

genre: fluff all the way (with maybe a teensy bit of angst???? i accidentally got kinda deep towards the end)

Deciding to commit yourself to a bona fide workaholic music nerd who would sooner chop his own hand off than skip a single working day for potentially the rest of eternity has been... a choice and a half, to say the least. Yes, he’s a sweetheart most of the time, and you love him more than possibly any being in the known universe (though jury’s still out on cats and the dragon you met a couple of months ago who brings you giant mouthfuls of leaves every weekend), but you’d be lying if he didn’t have qualities that make you want to drop kick some sense into him sometimes. And one of those qualities happens to be his absolute refusal to just take a damn break.

“Just one more hour,” He keeps telling you whenever you ask him if he’s finally finished with his mountain load of paperwork. “One more hour, and then we can spend some time together.”

It has been five hours since Lucifer went to his study to ‘get a bit of work done’. Five hours of attempting to finish the mountain of books Satan has recommended you in the corner of the library, probably irritating the poor guy to no end with your constant restless shifting. You're surprised that he hasn’t up and left to go read in his room in peace - then again, it’d be hypocritical of him to tell you off for moving about. You’d think a bookworm like him would be so absorbed by his beloved books that he wouldn’t be able to move at all, but he fidgets about so much when he’s reading that you’re surprised he hasn’t somehow worn a hole through his favourite armchair yet. At any rate, you’re pretty sure you can see him getting ready to flip himself upside down for the seventh time this evening in the corner of your eye.

You try once again to focus on the lucrative business deal happening in Chapter 52 for the fourth time in the last ten minutes, but your brain just doesn’t seem to be listening to you right now; no matter how hard you try to register what’s going on, the words just don’t want to be processed. Finally, checking the clock on the wall for what feels like the hundredth time this evening, you decide that you might as well go bother your busy bee upstairs. It’s been at least a fortnight since you’ve been able to spend a full evening or night with him, and, if you’re honest, it’s beginning to get a little on your nerves.

Satan barely looks up from his book as you hop to your feet and begin making your way out, though he does lift a hand to wave a brief goodbye. Contrary to your prediction, he has not flipped himself upside down, but is now sitting the wrong way around on his armchair instead, facing the seat’s back, with his book carefully balanced on its head. Unconventional, but you’ll give him credit for the creativity.

The House of Lamentation is oddly quiet for a Friday night, but you’d guess that’s because Asmo and Mammon, the two loudest members of the house, have taken it upon themselves to celebrate the arrival of the weekend by going out for the night and probably blowing their savings in the process. Well, Asmo will be blowing his savings - Mammon will most likely find a way to put his spendings on one of his other brother’s tabs, or worse, yours. Then again, you don’t buy things often, so you suppose you can spare a bit of cash. (Knowing Mammon, though, he’ll probably buy enough to put you in debt for the rest of your life.)

On your way through the corridor, you’re struck by a sudden idea. Lucifer’s been shut in his study ever since he got home from the R.A.D., which means he most likely won't have eaten anything. At any rate, you know for a fact he wasn’t there for dinner with everyone else, which means you now have a much better excuse for going to see him other than just wanting to. Lucifer may be a stubborn demon, but he's never been able to resist a mug of tea and some biscuits on long nights when it's you offering them.

Beel is rustling about in the snack cupboard when you slip into the kitchen - no surprises there, but it is a little odd that he’s going for the lighter foods rather than something more filling. You'd comment on why he's down here so late into the night - he should really be in bed - but then again, it's Beel. He'd listen to his stomach over his brain any day of the week.

“Oh, hey,” He greets as he retreats from the cupboard with an armful of what look like several cookie boxes stacked on top of each other. “Did you get hungry as well?”

You shake your head and pull two mugs out of the crockery cabinet. “Nope. Just thought I’d bring Lucifer some tea and biscuits, you know?”

“He’s been in his office for ages,” Beel agrees with an earnest nod. He glances down at the heap of cookies in his arms, then pauses. “Ah… here.”

You look up as you fill the kettle with water to see him holding one of the boxes in his arms out to you.  “...what’s this for?”

“There aren’t any biscuits left in the cupboard,” He says by way of explanation, shaking the box he’s offering to indicate that you should take it. “So you can have these.”

“Aw, you don’t have to do that, Beel!” You gently push the box back towards him and give his arm a fond pat. “I’ll just bring him something else. Go ahead and eat the cookies, okay?”

On any other occasion, Beel would most likely have accepted your offer without hesitation (the day that Beel rejects food will probably never come, but you have a sneaking suspicion that a black hole would rip this reality apart if it does), but it must have been a really good day for him in terms of being fed, because he actually continues to try to give you the box. You’re tempted to coo at the big softie’s uncharacteristic generosity, but you’re not particularly sure how that would go over with him. If being in a relationship with Mr Pridey McPrideface upstairs has taught you anything, it’s that you can never take a reaction for granted.

“No, you have it,” Beel insists, shifting so that he doesn’t drop the rest of his biscuits and stubbornly attempting to shove the box into your hands. “I’ve got plenty right here.”

Your surprise must show on your face, because a moment later he smiles a little sheepishly and adds, “I promise I’m not sick or anything. I’ve still got lots right here. One box won’t make that much of a difference.”

You think it over for a moment as the kettle begins to bubble aggressively behind you. You’re a staunch believer in the fact that one should never deprive Beel of his food, partially because he’s an absolute sweetheart who deserves the food he eats, and partially because something bad could and probably would happen if said food is taken from him. Then again, you’re not taking the food from him, strictly speaking - he’s the one offering it to you. That exempts you, right? At the very least, you have a counter-argument if Belphie tries to persecute you for taking his beloved twin brother’s biscuits. (He probably wouldn’t - the kid adores you - but it’s good to be prepared for possible trials.)

“Ah, fine...” You eventually relent and allow Beel to press the box into your hands. Your compliance is well worth it - the beam on his face and the little pat he gives the box in your hands in satisfaction could probably cure multiple strains of cancer. “You’re the sweetest, you know that?”

He flushes slightly. “I-it’s not that big of a deal…”

“Oh, that’s nonsense,” You tell him firmly over your shoulder, beginning to busy yourself with the teabags and sugar as the kettle hisses to a halt. “Personally, I think I’m going to remember it for the rest of my life.”

You smile to yourself as Beel laughs a little bashfully behind you. “Thanks…”

“No problem, bub,” You reply, pausing in your work to turn around and shoot him a wink. “Hey, chuck me a spoon, would you?”

He nods and does just that - literally. He throws the spoon across the kitchen with such precision that it lands perfectly in your outstretched hand.

You thank him and begin to pour the hot water into Lucifer’s mug. He says that he likes his tea as is, without any bells or whistles or fancy additions, but you’ve been doing this thing for long enough that you know that he actually prefers his tea with a teaspoon of honey and just a splash of lemon. He just refuses to actually say it out loud.

(To be honest, you’re not sure why he does that - does he think tea with honey and lemon is a wimpy drink or something just because you told him it’s often drunk as a remedy for a sore throat in the human world? Knowing the way his mind works, it’s probably something along those lines, but still, it’s a weird conclusion to make.)

You finish preparing Lucifer’s tea quickly - you’ve done this so many times that the movements have become second nature to you at this point - and start making your own. The drinks are finished a minute or so later, and with that you begin setting up your little snack tray.

After a moment’s debate, you decide that today is worth going the extra mile, and start to carefully arrange the biscuits on a pretty plate.  It’s a bit of a hassle to get them into the right formation, but it’ll be well worth it once you get them to their intended receiver - Lucifer always gets the fondest little smile on his face when you bring him his biscuits in patterns, and that man doesn’t smile nearly enough for your taste. Personally, you’d quite like it if he smiled like that all the time, but then again, their rarity is what makes them so precious to you.

Ah - you’re starting to get sappy again. That’s a surefire sign that you haven’t spent enough time with your beloved demon lately. Well, it’s a good thing you’re going to see him now, isn’t it?

The door to Lucifer’s study is still as tightly shut as it was five hours ago when you approach it, but you doubt he’s actually locked it. He’s stopped doing that ever since your visits while he works became a regular thing - he hasn’t said it out loud yet, but you know that it’s his way of showing you that you’re always welcome to come in.

Unlocked as it is, though, you can’t exactly turn the doorknob to let yourself in. You’re a human of many talents, but being able to balance a heavy tray in one hand is not one of them. Lucifer’s tea wouldn’t make into his study - it’d just end up all over the floor.

“Lucifer!” You call softly through the door, mindful that he might be having another one of his work-induced headaches, “I’ve brought you some tea! Open up!”

For a while, the only reply is silence. You know there shouldn’t be any reason for him to be, but you can’t help but worry briefly if Lucifer’s somehow angry at you. Then again, Lucifer’s always liked to play the fashionably late card against you - whether to tease you or to disguise something, you’ll never know.

It turns out that your little worry was unfounded - a few moments later, the door swings open to reveal your favourite demon in all his exhausted-looking glory. Lucifer, who looks like the physical manifestation of work burnout, offers you a tired smile, and stands back to let you enter.

(Here’s a little secret - Lucifer would never tell you this, but he’d perked up like a kid when candy is offered the moment he heard your voice. Still, gotta put up the cool front, right? Even if that means waiting restlessly right next to the door for a minute so that you don’t think he’s over-eager…)

“Thank you.” He murmurs as you bring the tray over to his desk and set it down on one of the few patches of wood that aren’t covered by papers.

You dramatically pretend to swipe sweat from your forehead as if you’ve just finished a ten-mile run and shoot a smile up at him. “All in a day’s work, love.”

He smiles softly and leans in to gently press a kiss to the crown of your head. His pale cheeks have darkened slightly - Lucifer’s always been a softie when it comes to the host of sappy nicknames you’ve given him. One gentle ‘sweetheart’ and he’s melting like an ice cube on a hot day. It’s the sort of thing that people like Mammon and Levi would probably call gross or something, but you honestly couldn’t really care less about that. It’s not harming anyone else and it makes both of you happy, so why shouldn’t you give your lover as many endearing pet names as you can come up with?

“What even is all this?” You ask, peering at the papers scattered across the desk as Lucifer moves over to have a look at the plate of biscuits. You look up just in time to spot the way his eyes light up slightly when he sees the flower you've arranged them into.

“This and that,” He replies vaguely, hovering a single gloved hand uncertainly over the plate, as if trying to decide which biscuit he can take without spoiling the pattern.

“That’s hardly an answer at all,” You complain, plucking three broken quills from among the documents and waving them at him. “Why do you keep using these? A pen would be way more efficient.”

“Official documents should be written in the traditional way,” Lucifer tells you. He takes his time chewing the biscuit he’s finally chosen before continuing. “And Diavolo prefers quill and ink calligraphy to look at.”

“Honestly…” You round the edge of the desk and reach up to brush some powdered sugar from the corner of his mouth. “You don’t have to do absolutely everything according to him.”

Lucifer blinks down at you, lips parting slightly in half awe and half surprise as you smile at him. “Ah…”

His smile widens slightly, and he gazes at you with so much fondness in his eyes that you almost feel a little weak at the knees at the very sight. Lucifer really is a dangerous demon - in more ways than one.

“Well, c-come on, then,” You prompt him abruptly, not wanting him to realise how much his gaze has affected you, because you just know it’s going to give him an ego boost. He pauses in surprise as you start tugging him over to the big armchair beside the fire - the one that the both of you can fit snugly into together. “Let’s have a drink together.”

“I still have papers to fill out—” He attempts to say, but cuts himself off as you shake your head and stubbornly attempt to push him down into the seat. It doesn’t work - Lucifer’s much stronger than you, after all - but he does at least seem to appreciate the effort.

“You’re taking a break whether you like it or not,” You insist, starting to smack lightly at his arms in an bid to get him to listen to you. “Papers can wait. I’m more important.”

That does get a little chuckle out of him, and he finally relents, sitting down with a subtle sigh. “That goes without saying.”

You laugh, suddenly a little more hot around the collar than you’d have liked. “You said it!”

Pausing to retrieve the tray with the tea and biscuits and set it on the table beside the armchair, you quickly join Lucifer in front of the fire, snuggling in at his side and letting out a blissful sigh as you feel him start to draw circles on your arm with his fingers. It’s a sort of habit that he’s developed over the last few months - you’re not sure if he even realises that he’s doing it.

The two of you stay like that in comfortable silence for several minutes. Lucifer’s tense shoulders relax more and more with each passing moment, and soon enough, he’s sprawled out against you, pressing his cheek lovingly into the crown of your head. 

It’s only at moments like this that you get to see this softer version of him, so you always cherish it when it happens. Lucifer may be a slightly passive-aggressive panther who could kill most beings with a swipe of his hand if he sees fit, but, every now and then, he’s a sleepy panther who’ll roll over and let you scratch behind his ears.

Conversation is usually sparse at times like this - the two of you are content enough in each other’s presence that you don’t really need to make small talk. Today, however, Lucifer seems to have something he wants to vent about.

“Belphie has been missing a lot of his homework again lately,” He murmurs. You make a noise of affirmation to indicate that you’re listening, staring at the mugs of tea sitting on the table and pondering whether the two of you will actually manage to part for long enough to drink them.

“Is it anything important?” You ask after a moment, playing absent-mindedly with his left hand. He doesn’t make any move to stop you as you mess about with his slender fingers, so you assume that he doesn’t mind.

“Mostly essays,” He replies, shifting slightly and letting out a quiet sigh. “He’s never liked writing them, but he hasn’t had so many missing before.”

You make a thoughtful sound. Now that you think about it, wasn’t Belphie confiding in you about this the other day?

“It’s just hard to sit down and concentrate sometimes, especially when I’m always so tired,” You remember him saying resignedly over hot chocolate and marshmallows. “It’s not like I don’t want to turn all my homework in on time. Sometimes I just can’t.”

“Well, you shouldn’t force yourself to do them, either,” You’d replied, giving his shoulders a sympathetic pat. “Needs over school of course. If you need to sleep more, then sleep more - if you feel like you can’t write the essay, then don’t write the essay. I’ll talk to Lucifer if he gets mad at you.”

He’d given you a grateful smile then, and turned back to his hot chocolate with a marginally brighter look on his face.

“Belphie’s been having a lot of nightmares lately, so he isn’t getting as much sleep,” You say slowly. “I told him to go ahead and take as many naps as he has to. His needs are more important than schoolwork, after all.”

Lucifer takes a long while to answer, but you don’t mind. It’s only fairly recently that he’s really come to terms with the idea that he doesn’t need to be so hard on his brothers - that it’s okay to put their comfort before whatever image of respectability he’s trying to keep up for Diavolo. The change has been somewhat jarring, according to Satan, but it’s not an unwelcome one, and you’ll gladly take responsibility for it with your constant reminders and careful explanations that Lucifer’s younger brothers have their own problems that he needs to give more leeway for.

“...did he come to talk to you about this?” He asks finally.

“Yeah.” You can’t see his face, but you can practically hear the frown beginning to pinch at his brows. “I know it might not seem like it sometimes, but he does want to make you proud. He’s never wanted to disappoint you.”

He takes a deep breath and releases it with a low hum. “...Belphie has never disappointed me.”

“Seems that he doesn’t realise that sometimes, though,” You sigh, tracing the seams of his glove with your index finger. “He’s a good kid, really.”

Lucifer doesn’t give a verbal reply, but he does hum again. You shift slightly and turn to look up at him; he looks back at you with sleepy, half-lidded crimson eyes. “Take it easy on him, okay?”

He gazes at you in contemplative silence for a long while, blinking slowly like an affectionate cat. Finally, he nods, and you beam proudly, dipping your head to rest on his chest, carefully positioning yourself so that his buttons don’t dig into your cheek.

“I’ll speak to his teachers,” He says quietly. “We should be able to arrange something.”

You smile against the fabric of his waistcoat, taking his hand in yours and giving it a squeeze. “That’s progress. I’m proud of you.”

He doesn’t respond, but you know full well that he loves it when you say that to him. He didn’t in the early days of your relationship, mostly because he’d thought you were patronising him, but now that the two of you are so much more familiar with each other, he’s learnt to recognise that you don’t mince words; you say what you mean, and you mean what you say. Which is exactly why, as the Avatar of Pride, he absolutely loves it when you tell him that you’re proud of him.

Lucifer himself is deep in thought. Struck by a sudden warmth spreading through him, quite independent of the crackling fire before him, he wraps his arms around you, resting his cheek against your head. It’s at moments like these, when you’re so close to him, that he realises just how fragile humans like you are.

It terrifies him sometimes, knowing that the unforgiving march of time means that you cannot be with him forever. One day you will leave, and you will grow old and fade away without him, because, no matter how much he wishes otherwise, you belong to a different realm. You are not a demon, and he is not a human; your worlds can collide briefly, for a single, beautiful moment, but then they will continue to move in their own orbit - and perhaps they will never meet again.

Some would say that, for this reason, he never should have fallen in love in the first place. Relationships like yours have always had a sort of taboo, even in the Devildom, because all beings are not created equal; humans have such short, meaningless lifespans compared to demons and angels, such little power, always depending on leaders and faith in a deity that they cannot prove the existence of. That is what demons tend to think of humanity, and until he’d met you, Lucifer had felt similarly.

But your life has been anything but meaningless, and the power you hold over him and his brothers is far stronger than any amount of potent magic that any being holds. The seven lords of the Devildom would lay waste to all three realms should anything happen to you. 

Lucifer had never thought that he had the ability to love so deeply and so purely, but then again, he’d also never thought that a human like you could exist. It seems that he’s been wrong about a lot of things, and he can only pray that he will be wrong in his prediction of how this will end.

But you’re with him now, curled up against him with a content smile on your face. For now, you’re here, and while you are, Lucifer doesn’t want to waste time on worries.

Your story is yet to reach its ending, and if Lucifer knows anything, it’s that he will stay by your side until then. As long as your worlds are still connected, he will continue to love you, and he will love you long after your worlds separate again.

He’s sure of it.

[zambie-trashart]

Caught in My Chest 2/2

Marinette looked around her classroom taking her seat in the back and no one even gave her a second glance except Adrien.

"Marinette, since you missed so much class I can help you after school today if you feel up for it," Lila said sweetly before fake wincing. "Or maybe not my port has been acting up lately," Lila said crocodile tears coming to her eyes.

"Port?" Marinette asked and Alya glared at her from the front of the classroom. "Wouldn't that mean you have..." Marinette started holding her right arm where her piccline was.

"Go on Marinette ask her!" Alya yelled holding Lila close.

"But that's, I just..." Marinette started. "I was just discharged from the hospital with Hodgkin's Lymphoma," Marinette finally said and all faces turned toward her.

Never before had Marinette seen the class so mad at her all because of a lie. How Lila had gotten a hold of this information was unexplainable but the fact that she would turn it around was unspeakable. "I can't believe you would say you have cancer just to try and show up Lila Marinette! You know she was recently diagnosed!" Marinette's breath was caught in her chest and she felt like she could never breathe again. Adrien stood up red faced and shaking.

"You're all idiots! Lila has been playing you since day one and the only reason why I haven't said anything is because I didn't have any proof," Adrien said and Marinette looked at her former crush in shock. "If any of you even bothered to do some research you'd know what a monster she is." Lila looked at Adrien angrily.

"What do you mean proof?" Lila asked trying to keep up her hurt persona.

"Medical records," Adrien said slapping them down on the table. "Also the fact that Marinette here has been in a healthy relationship with Damian Wayne for almost a year now and the fact that he is paying for her treatment and housing her after you turned her parents against her is another factor." Lila's face started to turn red.

"You have no right to go through my documents," Lila said picking up the files.

"I mean if there were any there, your bill of health has been clean for years Lila, Marinette's on the other hand not so much," Adrien said. "That's all I needed to say, we can wait and do more have later when Damian gets here but I can't say he'll be as nice about it. Marinette is the only family I have left and I'm not going to let you drag her through the grass anymore," Adrien added going to sit in the back of the classroom next to his friend.

"You didn't have to do that," Marinette said leaning on his shoulder. "But I appreciate it kitten," Marinette said winking and Adrien knew he was busted.

"I'll always be here for you M'lady," Adrien said and class started without delay.

Lunch rolled around and everyone was conflicted, Lila had lied to them about a deadly illness about so much, and Marinette, who they treated like garbage, was the one who was really sick. A large sigh could be heard from the door and two boys with black hair stood in the doorway one pushed sunglasses to the top of his head smiling and the other's face was stone cold.

"Alright, students of Francois Dupont, my name is Dick Grayson and today we're going to be talking about some certain behaviors of slander toward our name," Dick started and the whole lunchroom froze. "Recently we have heard from a patient of our program to help cancer patients around the world that there has been some issues, we are here to clear that up." Students suddenly noticed that he was reading from a screen on his wrist. "I sound like a robot," Dick whispered to Damian who rolled his eyes.

"Furthermore, patient 13078, Marinette Dupain-Cheng of the Wayne Foundation clinic was taken under our care at time 4:37 on March 30, 2021, she was diagnosed with Hodgkin's Lymphoma and moved to urgent care on April 2, 2021, after a biopsy on the first of April, 180 days of treatment are being provided and paid for in full. Lila Rossi who is not a patient of the Wayne foundation clinic has been seen harassing the patient which can cause stress levels to increase and therefore panic attacks which lead to trouble breathing and a shutting down of her lungs or windpipe in general if Miss. Rossi does not comply with our orders or removal from the school and distance from Miss. Dupain-Cheng, then we will be forced to take more forceful action..." Dick continued.

"Is this really necessary? Just stop messing with my girlfriend and apologize you assholes," Damian said and Dick sighed putting his arm down.

"Marinette, we know that things will never be the same but we're here to fight this with you," Alya said and Marinette felt tears well up in her eyes. Even if these people had been nothing but cruel to her she still wanted their support.

"We'll help you in any way we can dudette," Nino said wrapping an arm around her shoulder.

"That really means a lot guys but I need time to get over this with people who are truly going to be at my side, I'll appreciate everything you do though," Marinette said getting up and walking over to Damian with Adrien following close behind.

"You did what you thought was right beloved," Damian said and Marinette just smiled sadly. Damian looked over her head at Adrien who stared right back. "I think I know someone who might be able to make us all feel a little happier during this time, I'll see what I can do," Damian said leaving the superhero duo together to call a friend who could certainly bring the sunshine into Marinette's life again.

"A lot is about to change kitty," Marinette said holding the blond's hand watching Damian talk on the phone.

"180 days of fun M'lady," Adrien responded and suddenly a boy landed next to Damian and ran over to Marinette.

"Ready to kick some ass future Mrs. Wayne?" the boy asked and Marinette just chuckled blushing. She could already feel the weight being lifted off her shoulders.

The first few weeks were hard, she had to work to stay awake and study, keeping up with others was becoming a challenge.

The second month was painful but then again there was poison in her body constantly being flushed in and out.

The third month, radiation started, she was scared but she knew it had to be done.

Month four, she was almost done they said maybe even healed soon.

Once they had the caner isolated, she just had to have that laser there and then, hopefully, it would all be over.

Marinette had 180 days of meeting Damian's self-proclaimed best friend Jon by her side being whatever he needed her to be, she had the best partner she could ask for who was there to talk to her whenever she was scared, and she had Damian, her rock in the ocean.

When Marinette went into the doctors office and read off her paperwork, tears flooded her eyes as she bit her lip trying to contain her smile.

She was cured. Sixteen years old and she fought cancer and won.

She walked into school looking at the anxious faces of her peers.

"I've wanted to tell you something that I've known since the beginning of treatment, I'm moving to America after this was over, there's something about being here that makes me feel tied down. I did it, I fought and won a war far bigger than myself but somehow there's still something that I feel like I need to do or say, like there's something caught in my chest," Marinette said smiling sadly. "Lila never said anything, and that's what stings the most but I know I leave you guys as better people and you'll never make the same mistakes again, I want you to know I forgive you, every one of you." Marinette looked over her classmates one last time eyeing their expressions of tear-filled faces. "I have a flight to catch, bug out," Marinette said taking Damian's hand and walking past Jon and Adrien at the door and out of the school.

For the first time in a long time, Marinette felt her heart flutter as she took a deep breath and got on the plane.

a/n: This was such a hard story to write for me and I'm so happy to anyone who is reading and hope you enjoyed this experience. It has actual factual information in it and maybe you might have even learned something which would be cool huh? I hope to end up like Marinette in the next 163 days. thank you for reading

-Zambie

Taglist is closed due to story being complete: @hateswifi  @crystalangelluna @liquid-luck-00 @thatonecroc @ive-tumbled-down-a-rabbit-hole @professionalfangirl1738 @mochegato @wannajointhecrabcult @ranger-gothamite @moonspiritwolf1 @mochinek0 @toodaloo-kangaroo @ash-amg @enchanted-nerd @mewwitch @zorua-adorable @jumpingjoy82 @coolspidermanmusicflower @yazz-frost  @bugsy05 @rhetoric-question-mark  @myazael @rosep16 @elmokingkong @kking13 @heaven428 @vixen-uchiha @arcticfox487 @toodaloo-kangaroo @battybatbat 

[slippinmickeys]

Head Canon AU Mulder and Scully as Archeologist and Scientist at a dig in ruins in the Amazon.

Anon! Thank you so much. I saw this this morning and got that rare inspiration wherein I launched myself at this, and kind of love what I came up with. I hope you enjoy it! (It is unbeta-ed)

1. The University was being cheap. That was the first thing. Piggybacking off the hard work he’d put in: years worth of toil to arrange this meticulously set-up dig. If they wanted to send a team to study advanced medical uses of the vast biome of the Amazon rainforest, they’d do far better sending this approaching medical team into the interior. His team -- his dig -- was practically on the outskirts. The forest around them had already been explored and researched, catalogued and referenced. The real biological finds -- the cures for Alzheimer’s, cancer -- would be found in the unknown, in those places even the aboriginal people hadn’t stepped. The University was being cheap, plunking in a science team on a completely separate mission with his own, just to save some cash. That was the bottom line.

If it hadn’t been so oppressively hot so early in the morning, he might not have been quite so irritated. As it was, he stood on the bank of the river and ran an already sweat-soaked handkerchief over the back of his neck, willing the putting little outboard Evinrude to chug a little more quickly upstream. It was hot and stiflingly humid, and he’d wanted to be at the dig two hours ago, before the heat of the day set in. Too late, that.

The incoming medical team -- if you could call it a team -- seemed to consist of only one person. A short-statured wisp of a woman (if the high, top-knotted messy red bun was any indication of sex) who sat low in the backseat of the approaching riverboat, surrounded by expensive-looking boxes filled with technology that probably wouldn’t operate well in the humidity. He blew an irritated raspberry and shuffled his feet in the muddy squelch of the riverbank.

The stout block of the driver hefted a rope at Mulder as they approached, which Mulder caught easily and wrapped around a nearby tree.

“Tudo vai bem?” Mulder inquired as the man cut the engine and grunted an affirmative.

The passenger stood, keeping a hand on the side of the little tin vessel, its stern fishtailing out into the current. Mulder stepped up and held out a hand, which she grasped gratefully. He pulled and she took a confident leap, landing lightly on the ground next to him.

“Dr. Mulder, I presume?” she said on a light breath, looking up at him with a small smile, having to crane her neck to do so. She had astonishingly blue eyes, a color he’d only seen once, in an ice-cave in the far north. He shook his head after a moment and realized that he was still holding her hand. He dropped it, nodding.

“I thank God, doctor, I have been permitted to see you,” she finished, quoting the journals of Henry Morton Stanley.

Mulder outright laughed. He was smitten immediately.

2. “Be careful with that!” she’d barked, as Langly handed out her equipment to a couple of waiting locals that had been working on the project for three years.

Mulder held up a calming hand.

“You’re working with archeologists, Dr. Scully,” he said softly, “my team has the gentlest hands in the Southern Hemisphere.”

She quirked one side of a grin at him even as she threw a worried look over her shoulder at her equipment.

“Come on,” he said, giving her sleeve a gentle tug, “let me show you around.”

He showed her the latrine first, watching her face carefully for a reaction, but she just nodded nonchalantly and kept walking. Then the mess, and the tent where she’d be working when she wasn’t in the field.

“And this,” he said, taking her to an empty patch of jungle, “is where your bunk will be. My apologies that it’s not set up. There’s no female barracks and we were told you wouldn’t be here until next week. The radio communique we got this morning informing us of your arrival came as something of a surprise.”

“I’m eager to get started,” was all she said in response.

Mulder walked on and she followed him.

“I’m afraid the only empty cot is in my tent,” he said sheepishly. “Dr. Byers headed home for a funeral last month and we’re not expecting him back until March. I’ll be sure yours is set up right away, but takes some time as we have to build a platform first. Have you done jungle field work before?”

“I flew here from Borneo,” she said. “It’s not a problem.” With that, she flipped back the tent’s outer curtain and ducked inside like she owned the place.

She never did move out.

3. Scully’s father had been diagnosed with stage four pancreatic cancer and hadn’t lived long enough to see her graduate from medical school. She would not let it happen to anyone else if she could help it, she’d said. She worked like a woman possessed.

Against all advice, she would march into the jungle alone and be gone for days at a time. When her grad students finally arrived, they couldn’t keep up with her, and she’d frequently leave them at base camp to work on the equipment (which, Mulder was not really that pleased to report, did have a tendency to malfunction in the miasmic humidity and heat of the Amazon basin. It wasn’t, he admitted, that easy always being right). Occasionally she could be talked into taking one of the local hires with her, but she felt bad taking workers that Mulder’s project funding paid for, and anyway, they weren’t trained in her science, she would tell him.

“I wish you wouldn’t go out on your own,” he murmured into the cup of her ear one night, a trickle of sweat running from her hairline and onto the tip of his nose.

She turned on the cot, a feat, considering its fairly narrow dimensions, and pressed her forehead against his, the flimsy pillow damp beneath them both.

“I’m careful,” she whispered, and threw a leg over him, her dewy mons pressing into the naked flesh of his thigh.

“It’s not safe-” he began to protest, but she’d captured his lips with her own and he fell headlong into the lush heat of her -- whatever concern that had been on the tip of his tongue lost to her rapacious mouth as it trailed a slick path down his torso and latched, vitae and greedy, around the rigid length of him. It was bliss. She was bliss. If he had ever thought he knew love, he was wrong.

4. The whole camp knew they were together. Her tent had become a kind of catchall storage area, and it’s not like nylon canvas could contain the breathy moans of their pleasure. That and she’d just plunk down and sit on his lap whenever the only camp chair available around the mess tent was the one with the tricky leg.

Anyway, what happened in the field stayed in the field, unless it was up for peer review.

“Are you guys going to get married or something?” Mulder’s newest grad student asked one night when the air had actually cooled enough to take the edge off of everybody’s temper. Beer had arrived with their latest resupply and Frohike had syphoned off some LN2 to cool it and it was frosty and rich and maybe the best thing Mulder had ever tasted aside from Scully’s skin.

Scully, from atop his lap, merely shrugged and took a leisurely sip of brew. Mulder pictured it sliding down her throat, the cold blooming into her belly and he dry swallowed, then leaned forward and kissed her shoulder.

“God, don’t be such a newb,” drawled Langly, pressing his glasses into his face compulsively.

Mulder knew what Langly meant. They’d all seen their share of field romances that fizzled the second your boots stepped back onto University soil, though something about Scully felt different; the way their minds worked together, the way she felt in his arms.

“I’m married to the job, bro,” Scully said, but reached back and squeezed the skin just above Mulder’s hip. He kissed her shoulder again.

“D’you tell her about the helo data?” Frohike asked, looking at Mulder from his own camp chair. The little man sat low and back in it with his shoulders hunched up, and Mulder thought he looked a bit like a toad, or an ogre guarding a burial mound.

They’d gotten the funding from a billionaire alumni to fly a helicopter over the whole of the basin in this sector of the Amazon, using light detection radar. Basically, it shot out billions of lasers as it flew overhead that were able to penetrate the rainforest’s canopy and map the landscape below.

“You had a chance to analyze it?” Scully asked, craning her head to look at him squarely.

He nodded, smiling. He’d been saving this to tell her especially.

“And you were able to combine it with the satellite data?” she asked, excited.

He nodded again. “Sóis,” he said, smiling. The settlements they’d found took their name from the Portuguese word for ‘suns.’ They were round villages, all with remarkably similar layouts, with elongated mounds circling a central plaza. When seen from above, they looked like the rays of the sun. “Pre-Columbian.”

She jumped off his lap, spilling half her beer in the process. It dripped down the bare skin of her knee, unnoticed.

“Are you kidding?!” her excitement made him giddy.

“It gets better,” he said, and she cocked her head, waiting for him to elaborate. “They’re laid out like the cosmos,” he said, giving her a full-watt smile as he rose out of the chair to stand in front of her. “We’re already plotted three different villages, all laid out in the exact design of southern constellations.” Her mouth dropped open. “Canis Major, Hydra, and Crux Australis.”

She launched herself into his arms, practically squealing -- something he’d never heard her do -- and he held her, looking around at the smiling faces of the other scientists in the mess. The find would make his career, and her excitement for him touched him profoundly.

5. Martim, one of their local hires, came careening into camp, breathing so hard he had to put his hands on his knees to catch his breath. His face was a mask of anxiety and fear. Mulder felt dread bloom in his gut, and he dropped what he was doing -- actually dropped the computer tablet he was holding to the wet forest floor -- and ran over to the man, grasping him firmly by the shoulder.

“Martim?” he said, “O que aconteceu?”

“Dr. Scully,” the man heaved, his accent thick. He could still scarcely breathe.

“Where is she?” Mulder didn’t have the emotional wherewithal to translate from English. “What happened?”

“Hurt,” the man wheezed, “she’s hurt.”

It took nearly thirty minutes to assemble a rescue party, and they had to let Martim rest for a bit and give him food and water before he could take them back out into the jungle where he’d left Scully. Mulder was beside himself by the time they finally started off, impatient as a recalcitrant child, sick to his stomach with worry.

It took three hours to hack into the area where she’d been doing her search, and a further twenty minutes of calling her name before they heard her weak call back.

Mulder raced ahead without thought to obstacle or danger, and skidded to a halt when he was practically on top of her. She was leaning back against the base of a large tree, holding onto her right ankle, which she had elevated on her left knee. There was a length of rope beside her and a climbing harness around her butt and waist.

“Scully,” he panted, falling to his knees beside her.

She smiled at him weakly, her face pale and sweaty.

“I think it’s broken,” she hissed, pointing at her ankle.

“What happened?” Mulder asked, as the rest of the rescue party trundled in behind him, pulling off backpacks and other equipment. Someone handed Scully a bottle of water.

“I saw a fungus I’d never seen before growing on the bark midway up this tree,” she said after guzzling half a bottle of Arrowhead. “The carabiner failed on my descent.”

“Oh, Scully,” Mulder said, reaching out to tuck a damp lock of titian hair behind her ear.

“I got the sample, though,” she said with a tired, but victorious glint in her eye.

They weren’t back into camp until well after nightfall.

Mulder picked her up from the field stretcher and carried her into their tent, depositing her gently onto her cot. Langly came in behind him and handed him two fresh cold packs before ducking back out without a word. Mulder popped them to activate the chemicals and pressed them gingerly on either side of Scully’s ankle.

“I’m going to call for a medical evac,” he said quietly.

“Don’t you dare,” she said, grabbing at his hand and squeezing it. “Mulder, don’t you fucking dare.”

“Scully, we’ve got to follow protocol here,” he said, trying not to sound put out.

“Do not take me out of the field, Mulder. Promise me.”

“Scully-”

“Promise me!”

“How will you even work?” he said a little desperately.

“It doesn’t need setting or surgery,” she said, gesturing to her injured limb.

“How do you know that without an X-ray?”

“I’m a medical doctor,” she said, by way of explanation, “I can secure it with supplies we have on hand. I can work from my cot for a few days and make crutches out of tree limbs. Please, Mulder,” she said, and he could feel himself relenting, even if it would get him in trouble. “Please.”

He sighed, and she smiled up at him weakly, though he didn’t say a thing.

“Thank you,” and closed her eyes, relaxing into her pillow, “thank you.”

Six weeks later the canvas of their tent ripped back and the greenish glow of leaf-filtered sunlight shone into the murky, damp depths. Mulder rose from where he was resting on his cot and looked to the entrance. Scully stood there, armpit resting on her improvised crutch, her hair a rich autumn frizz around her head. Her eyes were wide and shining, and there was something incandescent about her in that moment -- an energy pulsing from her that lit his soul from within.

“Scully-” he started, but she held up a hand to silence him. Her hands were shaking.

“I found it,” she said, her voice breathy with the triumph of discovery, “Mulder, I found it.”

[bourbonbees]

Suptober Day 4- Secrets

Saccharine and Secret

Dean is keeping a secret, a big one, and he hopes that this is the one and only time he’s keeping a secret from Castiel. Because the guy is making it nearly impossible, he was far to attune to Dean’s routine. He noticed when Dean started to slip away every evening for a few moments to the room at the far corner of the bunker, the furthest away from their bedroom. Dean had made sure to choose that room to keep his secret in, knowing Cas was unlikely to go into the room full of old files.

“Where have you been?” Cas asks softly, setting the book he’d been reading on the bed side table and patting the spot on the bed next to him.

“You’ll find out soon enough, don’t you worry.” Dean smiles, sitting next to his angel and giving him a gentle kiss on the cheek. He sighs when Cas furrows his brows in reply and studies him carefully as if he will be able to extract the secret from Dean’s mind. Matter of fact, he might be able to. Dean hopes he can’t.

“All I do is worry about you.” Cas sighs heavily, gently cupping Dean’s cheek with his hand and leaning in to kiss his forehead.

“You don’t have to this time. I promise it’s a not anything dangerous or at least not most of the time.” Dean chuckles, thinking about the secret tucked away in the room. He needs to show Cas soon, maybe in the morning.  

“Alright, well, you be careful, I love you, you’re precious cargo.” Cas resigns, tucking Dean in securely under the covers.

“Aww you think I’m precious?” Dean grins, batting his lashes at Cas exaggeratedly.

“Don’t push it.” Cas warns, turning off the light before settling in with Dean laying his head on his chest.

“You don’t have to stay here all night, you know? I know angels don’t sleep.” Dean yawns.

“I want to. Now go to sleep you pest.” Cas says lovingly, pressing his fingers to Dean’s temple and using his grace to lull him into a deep sleep.

The next morning, Dean awakes to an empty bed, he follows clanging sounds down the hall to the kitchen. Cas is busy attempting to make pancakes while Sam watches, his eyebrows raised in amusement.

“Good morning! I’m making breakfast!” Cas says proudly. Dean really needs to show him his secret after breakfast, because if a wave of celestial intent making food he does eat isn’t love, he doesn’t know what is. He deserves to see his secret.

Dean eats the pancakes without restrain, shoveling them into his mouth and ignoring Sam’s disgusted expression which deepens when Cas kisses Dean in full view, syrup on his chin and all. Dean just grins proudly pulls Cas into his lap.

“Get a room!” Sam groans, sipping the last bit of his green smoothie, and he thinks he has the right to look at Dean like he’s the disgusting one. What a bitch.

“Actually, matter of fact. I have a room I’d like to show you.” Dean says to Cas who gives him an adorably confused head tilt.

“Gross.” Sam says with a roll of his eyes.

“Shuddup Sammy. You’re just jealous because you miss Eileen!” Dean preens, patting Cas’ hip so he would stand up and then joining him, hand in hand.

“Run.” Dean smirks, all mirth and mischief as he pulls Cas out of the kitchen, Sam half-heartedly chasing them half way down the hall before giving up.

“You’re the worst!” Sam calls after them, Dean all but giggling as he leads Cas to the room that holds his secret.

“Okay, so I have something to show you. I was trying to wait, to make this an anniversary gift but I can’t wait!” Dean says excitedly, hand on the door knob, his secret moments away from being revealed.

“Oh, it’s a gift.” Cas sighs in relief, visibly relaxing.

“Yeah what did you think, I was brining you to my secret opium den or something?” Dean teases, rubbing Cas’ back.

“I wasn’t sure what to think. Can never tell with you. You keep life, interesting.” Cas shrugs, pecking Dean’s lips as he opens the door, revealing a small black kitten waiting on the other side.

“Surprise!” Dean beams, feeling a swell of pride when Cas immediately bursts into happy tears, picking up the kitten and cooing over it as he cuddles it to his chest.

“Dean! This is wonderful, I love them. You got me a cat! But you said you were sort of allergic, didn’t you?” Cas rambles, sitting on the floor and letting the kitten curl up in his lap.

“Well after Jack and Claire taught you about Tik Tok,” Dean pauses rolling his eyes at the memory of the two teens helping Castiel, eldritch terror turned certified dorky dad, download the app. “I noticed you were watching lots of cat videos and that they make you light up. I love seeing you that happy. So, I figured, if your grace can cure cancer and things like that, why not my allergies.” Dean shrugs, sitting on the floor next to Cas.

“This is the nicest thing anyone has ever done for me.” Cas wells up again, holding the kitten to his chest and giving Dean a long slow kiss.

“You deserve it and more.” Dean says honestly, petting the kitten’s soft ears and then kissing Castiel back lovingly. He chuckles as the kitten paws at his jaw, trying to push him back from Cas.

“Looks like I have competition. Good thing he’s cute.” Dean hums, sitting back and watching fondly as Cas kisses the kitten on the head.

“He, it’s a boy?” Cas asks curiously, nuzzling his nose against the kitten’s soft black fur.

“Yup, what are you going to name him?” Dean ventures to ask, resting a hand on Cas’ thigh, ignoring the fact that his eyes were itching like crazy, his allergies could wait.

“I think maybe Shiloh. It means peace. Because being with you and with him brings me peace.” Cas says decisively, making Dean’s heart swell with joy.

“Being with you brings me peace too, babe. Happy anniversary.” Dean says softly, resting their foreheads together.

They spend the rest of the day with Shiloh, setting up all the kitten supplies Dean had been hiding in the file room. It’s all painfully domestic which is what Dean wants, which is why he still has an even bigger secret right under Cas’ nose.

Cas has yet to find it, the gold ring Dean had tucked into the pocket of his trench coat with a little note attached in simple script reading “marry me?”

[cutie1365]

A Kid from Queens Part 21

Pairing: Peter Parker x Stark!Reader

Info: CA: Civil War Era. Tony Stark enlists his daughter to find the web slinging spider in Queens.

Word count: 5.4k

Warnings: 18+ content, smut, language. (I had aged up Peter so he’s 18.)

A/N: Flashbacks in italics as usual :) I know it’s been forever, motivation is hard to come by these days. This is the longest thing I’ve ever written, it’s long enough to break into two chapters but I know I haven’t uploaded in a while so Merry Christmas lol.

Any and all feedback is much appreciated! Please please if you could just leave a little message of things you like or what you want to see in the future it really helps.

Masterlist linked in my bio. Taglist in the reblog.

- - - - - 🕷 - - - - -

“Y/N! Y/N! Over here!” You heard your name called as Happy opens the limo door. He extends his hand to help you to your feet.

“Stark, look over here!” The paparazzi screams were almost deafening as Peter exited the car after you. His mask hid more of his features while yours left little to the imagination, they knew who you were already, so no point in trying to hide it.

“Behave.” Happy pointed a stern finger at you.

“Don’t I always.” You feigned offense as your hand clapped over your heart, he raised a brow as your mouth turned up into a smirk.

“Goodnight Happy.” You chuckled, turning and stepping onto the red carpet leading to the venue.

“Who are you wearing?” You heard different questions screamed in your direction. This was a charity gala after all, not the fucking Oscars. Who cares who made your dress?

You slipped your hand into Peters, trying to calm him. This had to be overwhelming, all the cameras in your face, screaming anything they can to get you to look their way.

“Dr. Stark!” One voice called, gaining your attention. Few people addressed you with your appropriate title. You turned to see a young woman, who didn’t look like she’s been on the job for very long. She was holding her own though, against all these ruthless reporters. You thought you saw The Bugle among them.

“Dr. Stark, Glory Grant from the Times.” She smiled once you looked her way. You took a step closer to her, nodding at her to let her know you were listening and she could continue, “Can you tell us why this cause is important to you?”

“Of course, every child’s life we can save is like an investment into our and their future. They’re going to be the ones to take over the world someday. Who knows who will be the next Einstein, or Madam Curie...” You began with a smile.

“Or Y/N Stark,” She smiled. You laughed, shaking your head humbly.

“If we can do our part in donating and relieving some of the financial burdens off of their parents then it’s worth it. This organization not only helps families and children currently fighting cancer, but it helps look for a cure. A permanent solution to help end this disease.” You spoke from your heart.

“Thank you so much Dr. Stark.” She smiled as she scribbled the last of your words onto her notepad.

“Are you new at the Times Ms. Grant?” You asked, taking another step closer to her and the barrier between the two of you.

“Yeah, I just started.” She smiled nervously.

“Can I borrow your pen?” You asked, and she handed you her pen and pad.

“That’s my work number. If you’d like to be added to the Stark Industries press board, give me a call. They’re the first ones we call about press releases and announcements.” You spoke as you scribbled it down, handing it back to her with a smile.

“Thank you so much Dr. Stark, but why are you helping me?” She furrowed her brows.

“Because it's a man's world, and we can help change that, one woman at a time,” You said, causing her to laugh, “You’re the only one here to actually address me by my title and not ask me about my outfit. I see a bright career ahead of you.” You nodded to her as you took a step back towards the middle of the carpet.

“Enjoy tonight,” she smiled, beaming at the new opportunity. You winked at her as you took Peter’s hand and led him along the carpet and up the stairs towards the venue.

“That was nice of you,” He squeezed your hand.

“I mean it’s effortless for me, but it will help kick start her career. I got this kinda third eye about people.” You smirked.

“That’s not a real thing.” He shook his head with a laugh.

“Sure it is. It’s not always perfect, but sometimes I can just tell when people are destined for something great. Like you, from the moment I met you I knew.” You turned towards him, taking his other hand in yours.

“You knew what?” He titled his head in confusion.

You leaned in to press a chaste kiss to his lips, forgetting you were at the top of the stairs and still in full sight of all the photographers. You saw the flashes but you didn’t care. Peter’s identity was safe with his mask, and you wanted the whole work to know how happy he made you.

“That you’re a good person, and you’re gonna do big things.” You beamed up at him as you pulled away from the kiss, turning to lead him inside.

“So what else can this third eye tell you?” He asked curiously.

“It’s kinda like a gut feeling, to trust someone or not trust them. Like fight or flight, something’s not right kinda feeling. I just trust my gut, ya know.” You shrugged.

“I think I know exactly what you mean.” He said, and you turned to him with a raised brow before remembering your conversation from a week ago.

“Oh that’s right, like your spidey senses.” You chuckled, making sure to keep your voice low.

“My what?” His eyes went wide.

“You said you can sense when something bad's gonna happen. Although mine isn’t as specific and can’t be attributed to a radioactive spider.” You chuckled, walking to a secluded corner of the ballroom.

“Shh someone could hear you.” He whispered, you smiled, shaking your head, knowing everyone’s always drunk at these sorts of things.

Turning to face Peter, you raised your hands to straighten his bow tie. Your mind wandered to how great he looked in his suit. The feeling of butterflies swirling in your belly from the moment you saw him step through your door a few hours ago had barely worn off.

- - - - - 🕷 - - - - -

“Wow,” you both muttered as your eyes landed on each other. You’d never seen him all dressed up like this. He looked good, really good. You gulped, trying to push the dirty thoughts from your mind.

His hair was slicked back, not the mess of curls you were used to. He looked so grown up. You could almost picture him commanding a Stark Industries board meeting or standing at the end of an isle. Wait- slow down Y/N, jesus.

He looked so natural, so dapper, and then he turns and gives you that signature goofy smile- there he is. It brought a smile to your face. How did you get so lucky? How could you have landed a guy as great and handsome as Peter Parker. Were the girls at his school brain dead? You would think everyone would want him. Kind, sweet, intelligent, respectful, and Christ he cleans up well. He was everything you’d ever dreamed of.

Have you just been staring this whole time? Jesus, Y/N say something, he’ll think you’re crazy, you thought.

“Are you ready to go?” You asked, trying to compose yourself. He only nodded, still not able to formulate words.

You were wearing red. His red. No- not his red obviously, but the same color of his suit. And god he loved it. He felt like you were wearing a piece of him. Like he had marked you, you were his.

“You look...” He trailed off, his eyes still wide. He cleared his throat and smiled, trying to compose himself. You could almost hear his internal monologue urging him on - Come on Peter, keep it together..., “You look... God Y/N. You look beautiful.”

“Thank you,” You blushed. Of course that wasn’t the first time someone had told you that, but coming from Peter it felt different, “You look so handsome. Not your usual kind of suit, huh?” You smirked, causing him to chuckle as he pulled on his sleeves.

“I have your mask.” You smiled, still admiring him, holding the mask out to him.

- - - - - 🕷 - - - - -

“Why doesn’t your mask hide your identity?” Peter asked, as the two of you watched more and more people file into the ballroom.

“Because people will know who I am anyway, and I’m not hiding.” You explained.

“How will they know?” He furrowed his brows, you shook your wrist in response.

“I don’t know anyone else with a custom blaster built into a bracelet. I’m also on the younger side, and pulled up in a ride with Stark Industries plates, so it wouldn’t take a genius.” You smiled, starting to recognize a few faces of regulars as you people watched.

“Do you always wear that thing?” He asked, holding up your wrist and examining it.

“No, I’ve got a watch for day to day wear that does the same thing. Dad may not give me a suit, but he won’t leave me completely defenseless. And it has come in handy.” You trailed off, remembering the not so fond memories of the last time you used it. Your ribs still ached if you thought about it long enough.

“Let’s hope you don’t have to use it tonight.” Peter said, craving one normal night without having to be a hero.

“Someone would have to be very ambitious to attack this place, they’ve got security out the wazoo.” You brushed off, praying tonight would go well.

A hush fell over the crowd as the charity president walked onto the stage and welcomed everyone. You felt Peter’s hand slip around your waist protectively as everyone pushed a little closer to the stage to hear. This part was pretty standard, basically a little speech to kick off the  night, a thank you for coming, and who to make all checks out to. Music filled the ballroom as the band began playing after the applause for the speaker died down.

“I’ll get us something to drink.” Peter nodded off towards the open bar.

You nod as he walks off and turn to admire the ballroom. Your eyes soon land on a familiar face.

“Dr. Strange,” You smile, greeting him.

“Dr. Stark,” He nods. You’d met a few times at these sorts of events. You hadn’t seen him for a while though, and there were rumors of an accident.

“How are you Stephen? I haven’t seen you since...” You paused to trying and remember, “Was it that benefit for the hospital a year ago?”

“Had to be, I’ve been... traveling.” He stated ominously. You glanced down to see the long thin scars along his fingers.

“Well it’s nice to have you back.” You smiled.

Peter now rejoined you at your side, slipping a drink into your hands- non-alcoholic of course, per May’s request. His other hand found its way to the small of your back.

“Peter, this is Dr. Stephen Strange.” You introduced him.

“Peter Parker,” He smiled, shaking the doctor’s hand. Something you couldn’t describe flashed over Peter’s eyes as they shook hands. Like a gut feeling he couldn’t quite place. For some reason his spidey senses were going off.

“Enjoy your evening, I need to check in at work.” Strange gave a curt nod and smile as he said his goodbyes. As he walked past you he dropped his voice to a whisper and spoke into your ear, “I like this one much better than the last.”

“Me too,” You whispered back with a smirk.

“So... how do you know him?” Peter asked curiously as the doctor excused himself to call the hospital.

“We run in the same circles, it’s a lot of the same people that come to these sorts of things. His hospital donates a lot of money to these causes and when he pisses off the board they send him to represent them as punishment.” You explained.

“This is a punishment?” Peter asked, dumbfounded.

“For a neurosurgeon it might just be,” You laughed, shaking your head, “I’m surprised he’s here.”

“Why?” He furrowed his brows.

“I heard he was in an accident not too far back. A bad one. I didn’t know he had gone back to work. Hmm...” You looked off to where the man had disappeared to.

“Care to dance, Parker?” You changed the subject, taking his hand into yours and placing your drinks onto the nearest table.

As the song changed to I Only Have Eyes For You by The Flamingos, he held you in his arms, swaying slowly. You were lost in him, hours could have passed, or seconds. As your bodies were pressed together you felt a sensation you could only describe as home.

“So has it been everything you dreamed it would be? These stuffy formalities for rich people to get drunk and spend money.” You chuckled as you looked up at him.

“It’s beautiful, but I guess, I mean it seems so glamorous from the outside.” He shook his head.

“Sorry to burst the bubble for you. It’s a little less Gatsby, and a little more, middle aged businessman doing coke in the bathroom.” You quipped.

Peter’s head immediately whipped towards the bathroom door where two men were emerging, one rubbing his nose.

“No way...” He looked back to you with wide eyes.

“You’d be surprised.” You chuckled.

- - - - - 🕷 - - - - -

After a little more dancing and mingling you and Peter made your way out onto the deserted balcony.

“Are you cold?” He asked, as he leaned onto the railing next to you. You were hiding it well but he still sensed it.

“A little.” You chuckled, cursing those spidey senses for giving you away.

Peter slipped off his coat and placed it over your shoulders. You thanked him as you turned to admire the moonlit lake below you. It was so quiet and peaceful, untouched by the party going on just on the other side of the glass doors.

“Did you have a good day?” Peter asked.

“Perfect.” You looked up to him and smiled, and you meant it.

“Um, so, Happy told me that you don’t like to celebrate your birthday but,” Peter began to speak, nervously. Your eyes grew wide, how in the world did he know it was your birthday? That was the one day you liked to keep private and out of the press. Only the Avengers, Pepper and Happy knew when it was. “I wanted to give you this. Everyone deserves at least one present on their birthday.”

“Peter you didn’t-” You shook your head, before he cut you off.

“I know I didn’t have to, but I wanted to. And don’t worry, Mr. Stark swore me to secrecy so I won’t go announcing it to the world.” He reassured you as he reached into his pocket to pull out a little box.

“I know it’s not much, and I’m sure you have a million other fancy things, but I wanted you to have this.” Peter opened the box nervously, revealing a necklace. It was a single pearl and diamond dangling from a silver chain. Simple, but beautiful. “It was my mothers. Aunt May said that my dad gave it to her on their wedding day.”

Your jaw dropped slightly and your hand went over your heart.

“Peter, I-” How could you accept this? It was probably one of the last bits he had of his mother and he was just giving it away? You knew how much they meant to him, and he’d been through so much. With losing both parents so young and then his Uncle Ben not that long ago. Tears began to pool up in your eyes. Did he really care about you that much to part with something this important?

“Are you sure?” You asked softly.

“Of course I am. She would have loved you. She would have wanted you to have it.” Peter spoke, slipping the necklace on you as a single tear slipped down your cheek.

You turned back to him with a smile, he gently rubbed his thumb across your cheek to wipe the tear away. He didn’t know what to say- actually that’s a lie. He knew exactly what three words he wanted to say, but he thought it might be too soon and he might scare you. He absolutely didn’t want that. So he just smiled at you as you leaned in to kiss him.

You pulled away and wiped your tears, trying your best not to mess up your makeup.

“Thank you Peter.” You sniffled, chuckling at how silly you were being.

“Happy birthday.” He beamed as you heard the band strike up a slow song inside. He extended his hand to you, “Y/N Stark, can I have this dance?”

There was that goofy smile again, causing you to giggle as you placed your hand in his. He pulled you close, you rest your head on his shoulder as you both sway to the music. And for once in your life, everything was perfect.

- - - - - 🕷 - - - - -

After everyone had said their goodbyes and they ushered you out of the venue, you and Peter began your short walk through the park to the Plaza Hotel across the street.

“Tonight was like a dream,” You said, as you swung your intertwined hands slightly.

“Haven’t you been to a million of these things.” Peter chuckled and shook his head.

“Yes, but I’ve never been to one with someone I love and it’s a very different experience I’ve learned.” You spoke, causing Peter to stop.

You turned to face him as you noticed his wide eyes, not believing the words that just came out of your mouth. It took him a minute to process. One, that meant you loved him. And two, that meant you were never in love with Thomas, since you’d been to these events with him before.

“Ok, you’re kinda scaring me now Peter,” You laughed nervously at his awestruck state.

“You love me?” He asked, and you answered with a nod and a smile.

He placed his hands on either side of your face and pulled you into a sweeping kiss.

“Am I dreaming?” Peter asks, pulling away, looking for any sign on your face that this was all some sort of joke.

“I sure hope not,” You chuckle.

“I love you too,” Peter beams at you, pulling you into another kiss.

- - - - - 🕷 - - - - -

“Woah...” You and Peter both mutter as you push open the door to your hotel room. Now this was fancy. You felt like you were in a room in Buckingham Palace.

You both walked around, inspecting the room as you dropped your coats. You saw your bags in the corner that had already been brought up. You ran your hand over one of the pillows on the huge California King sized bed as your lips morphed into a smirk and an idea popped into your head. You clutched onto the pillow with one of your perfectly manicured hands as you spun around, whacking Peter with it.

“Hey!” He yelped, eyes growing wide at what you’d just done.

“Come on Parker, let’s see what you’ve got.” You tossed him another pillow from the bed with a smirk.

“O you’re gonna regret this,” He stalked towards you. You kicked off your heels and jumped onto the bed, standing up on your knees.

He swung his pillow as you ducked, it just missed you. You took the opportunity to whack him again. He looked at you with wide eyes, thinking, How had he missed?

“What? Couldn’t see that coming, bug boy?” You laughed. Taking those few seconds to gloat had proved fatal as you felt his pillow attack your side.

“Oof,” You feigned pain as you dropped backwards until your back hit the bed.

“Are you ok?” Peter asked, worried, thinking he’d really hurt you. With his super strength he was never sure.

You waited until he was kneeling next to you to jump into action, according to your plan. You jumped up, pushing him back onto the bed as you straddle him, grabbing your pillow and smacking him a few times.

“Ok, ok, you win!” Peter cried out, forfeiting.

“Yes!” You threw your pillow up in the air in victory. Peter looked up at you, still on top of him with your hair now a mess, hanging all around your face. He cherished the genuine smile on your face. All he wanted to do was kiss you, you looked so happy.

You crawled off of him and back onto the floor where you extended your hand to help him up. As he placed his hand into yours and rose to his feet, you didn’t notice his left hand reach for the pillow. Before you knew it, there was a pillow lightly thrown in your face.

“Peter!” You squealed through laughter. He knew you were about to retaliate when you reached for your own pillow on the bed. But he was faster, wrapping his arms around your waist and lifting you away.

“Come on, truce?” He asked as you struggled against his arms.

“Fine, truce.” You said, shaking his extended hand as he let you go.

“Hungry?” You asked, reaching for the room service menu on the desk and flipping through it.

“Starving.” He said, reading it over your shoulder.

After you had called in the food, you walked over to explore the rest of the room.

“They said it will be about an hour.” You told Peter, as you pushed open the door to the bathroom.

“So what do we do til then?” He asked, but you didn’t hear him.

“Jesus, look at the size of that tub.” You exclaimed, and Peter came over to your side to get a look at it too.

“Wow,” He said when his eyes landed on the giant clawfoot tub, “Um we definitely have to use that.”

You turned to face him with a smile.

“Really? You’d wanna do that?” You asked, who knew Peter Parker was a sucker for bubble baths.

“Absolutely. And do they have those big fluffy robes like in the movies?” He asked, excitedly, like a kid on Christmas.

You walked over to the closet and pulled the doors open, revealing two robes as described. You pulled them out and presented them to him.

“Cool...” His eyes lit up as he felt the material between his fingers.

You started to run the water, adding bath salts and bubbles, knowing it would take a while to fill the whole thing. Your things had already been brought to the room before you got there, so you got to work taking off your makeup and letting your now messy hair down.

You tried to reach for your zipper, as your body cried to be released from this skin tight dress.

“Hey Pete,” You called, and he strolled in the bathroom, now only wearing his dress pants and no shirt... and the butterflies were back. God how could he look that good, you stared shamelessly.

“You called?” He smirked, breaking your train of thought.

“Oh um, can you help me with my zipper?” You blushed, knowing you’d been caught.

“Mhm, turn around.” He instructed, before his fingers found the metal pull tab and he slowly worked it down, revealing more and more skin.

“There you go.” He smiled, placing a kiss on your shoulder, his gentle action nearly making you swoon. “I think the water’s ready if you want me to turn off the tap.”

“Yeah, yeah go ahead.” You nodded. You watched him turn off the spout and slip off his dress pants until he was just in his boxers. He folded them and set them aside before looking up to you. You were still holding your dress against your chest to keep it up, as the back gaped open and the thin straps slipped down your arms.

“Do you need help with that?” Peter asked, pointing to your dress, thinking you might need help taking it off. You thought you could manage, but on second thought you might need help. It was a tight dress and your stylist had helped you into it. You only nodded in response as Peter moved behind you. He gently helped you slip your arms through the straps and pulled the fabric down your body. He gave the fabric a quick tug as it struggled to get past your hips. You were now exposed in front of him. The dress was too tight for you to wear any sort of undergarments. He took you in for a moment before shifting his attention respectfully to the red indentations down your side from where the seams of the dress dug into you.

“Does this hurt?” He asked, gently rubbing his fingers down them.

“Not really,” You shook your head. He reached out his hand to help you into the tub without slipping.

You sank into the warm water as Peter dropped his boxers and joined you. Your eyes went wide at the size of him, and you looked away, a blush slowly crept onto your cheeks.

He must have noticed because the next thing you knew, a splash of water was hitting your face. You looked back to him in shock, he was sitting back laughing. You flicked your hand through the water, splashing him back.

You moved to do it again, but he grabbed your wrist, stopping you. You knew it was a good idea, if the two of you started going at it again like in the pillow fight, it would lead to a mess and an expensive clean up bill.

“Do they always book rooms this fancy for the galas?” Peter asked, taking in the room once more.

“I don’t know, this was the first time I’ve accepted it.” You shrugged, following his gaze up to the gold crown molding and chandelier.

“Really? I thought you did this all the time.” Peter assumed.

“No, I don’t make it a habit of jumping into tubs with strange men.” You joked.

“That’s not what I meant, and I’m not a strange man, I’m your boyfriend.” He teased as he pulled you towards him. You chuckled and placed your lips onto his quickly before pulling away.

“Say it again.” You smiled. He furrowed his brows for a moment before smiling.

“I’m... your... boyfriend.” He said slowly, placing a kiss on either cheek between words, his lips landing on yours after his last word.

He now had his arms around your waist, pulling you close as your lips collided. When you broke apart for air, he looked down at the necklace around your neck and smiled.

“This is a dream right? I’m dreaming.” Peter shook his head with a goofy grin, not being able to believe his eyes.

“Does this feel like a dream?” You asked, taking both of his hands and placing them onto your breasts. He responded by crashing his lips onto yours, he groaned against your mouth as he pulled you closer.

“It’s nice to know you dream about me Parker.” You quipped with a smirk as you broke apart for air. He chuckled at your cockiness.

“All the time, baby.” He replied, and the pet name rolled off his tongue before he even realized what he said. God you almost melted at the sound. It was your turn to crash your lips against his and let out a moan as his hand traveled down to squeeze your ass.

A knock at the door pulled you both apart as you stared at each other with wide eyes.

“Room service!” A voice called, causing you both to let out the breath you didn’t know you were holding in.

- - - - - 🕷 - - - - -

The two of you sat at the dining table, both in your white fluffy robes with nearly dripping wet hair.

“God this is so good.” Peter said, stuffing his mouth.

“Mm, I know, I didn’t realize I was this hungry.” You said, doing the same. Who knew fancy hotels made burgers and fries this good.

You picked up a fry from your plate, waving it at Peter.

“Ready? Catch.” You said as you threw it across the table as Peter caught it in his mouth.

“Ok your turn,” Peter said, tossing one of his. You leaned to the side, nearly missing it, but catching it in your mouth. You thrust your fists in the air in celebration, causing Peter to chuckle.

The two of you ate and talked, before cleaning up.

“Ugh, I’m so full.” You groaned, falling back onto the bed, rubbing your full stomach, causing Peter to laugh.

“Do you want to watch a movie?” Peter asked.

“Oo yeah, we should probably get out of these robes though.” You said, moving from the bed, not wanting to get it all wet.

“Here,” Peter said, moving to his duffle bag and tossing you one of his t-shirts. You slipped it on as he slipped on some boxers and hung up your robes. You glanced down at the Midtown Tech logo and smiled. The fabric fell down to the middle of your thigh.

“I like seeing you in my clothes.” Peter smiled as he approached you sitting on the edge of the bed and pulled you into a chaste kiss.

“Cafeul, soon all your sweatshirts are gonna go missing.” You said, making him laugh.

Peter sat with his back against the headboard, and motioned you over to him. You crawled across the bed and laid into his side as he wrapped an arm around your waist, keeping you close. He held the remote in his other hand, scrolling through options on the large screen.

“Have you seen this?” Peter motioned towards the screen.

“That’s my favorite movie.” You chuckled, smiling up at him as he immediately pressed start.

Peter absentmindedly played with your hair as the movie went on. As the credits rolled a few hours later you leaned up to face Peter.

“Thank you for today. As birthdays go, I gotta say this may be my best yet.” You spoke genuinely.

“Well it’s not over yet.” He stated after glancing at the clock on the bedside table.

“It’s not?” You smirk, as he pulls you closer.

“I think we were interrupted earlier.” He said slowly, a blush returning to your cheeks as you remembered the events that took place, or almost took place in the bathtub a few hours earlier.

“I think you’re right.” You whispered back, as you climbed onto his lap as his lips intertwined with yours.

You’ve kissed him before, that wasn’t new, but this time something was different. There was a hunger you couldn’t quite describe. His hands began to roam your body, trying to take in every inch of you. A strong arm wrapped around your waist, lifted you, and laid you down onto the bed as Peter now hovered over you.

You gasped at the sudden movement before smiling as Peter lowered his lips to yours once more.

“Y/N,” He said, making you stop and open your eyes, worriedly. Was he ok? Was this too much?

“I’ve never...” He began, nervously.

“That’s ok Peter, we don’t have to-” You tried to reassure him, but he shook his head.

“I want to, God I want to. I want to make you feel good.” He said, his hand traveling up your shirt and resting on your waist.

“Are you sure?” You asked, not wanting to push him into something he wasn’t ready for.

He nodded, muttering a yes as he brought his lips down to you once more, before pulling away.

“Are you?” He asked, making sure this wasn’t one sided.

“Absolutely.” You smiled, taking in the sight of him above you, reaching up to gently move a curl that was falling onto his face, brushing his hair back with your fingers.

And for the first time in your life, you realized why it was called ‘making love’. As much as the phrase made you cringe. As much as you hated when people said that, that was the only way you could think to describe what you and Peter just did. It was sweet but passionate. Peter was gentle yet ruthless in all the right ways. You figured it out together, through the giggles and moans. And as first times go, it was perfect.

For one night you got to be kids. Of course you were adults, just barely. But the two of you had more weight on your shoulders than most adults would ever have. You had responsibilities, that the safety of the city and the world depended on. But for one night, you got to be normal, you got to be kids. For one night you were free, and you cherished it, because neither of you knew how long it would last.

- - - - - 🕷 - - - - -

Any and all feedback is greatly appreciated! 

TAGLIST in Reblog

[petersasteria]

Past is Past - Peter Parker AU

Pairing: Peter x Reader, Harry Osborn x Reader Requested? Nah. It based on one of @writing-prompt-s’ prompts. 2.5k words Warning/s: character death, confusion, a satisfied ending

PP Masterlist

Big thanks to my friend @croissantwriting for the help! She’s doing a little gift-giving this Christmas, so if you want a gift from a stranger who’s super nice and friendly, check it out! 

* * * *

“She’s not getting any better, Mr. Parker. I’m afraid she’ll be going soon.” The doctor told Peter with no expression on their face. The doctor kept their face neutral, so that it wouldn’t be an issue for anyone. It was also protocol at the hospital.

The doctor excused themselves and left Peter standing alone in the cold hallway outside of his wife’s room. Peter couldn’t believe that he would lose the person he truly loved; he would lose her to cancer. ‘Fuck cancer.’ He thought. He wanted his wife to live long; to see their children grow up to be the people they’re meant to be. Alas, it was just wishful thinking.

You see, Peter was immortal. In a world where 2% of the population are born immortal, he was one of them. It could be anyone, really. One’s parents don’t have to be immortal for one to be immortal. They were just cursed that way. Being born immortal was God’s cruel way of letting people stay on Earth to be His stewards of creation for eternity. Whether they like it or not, if they were born immortal, they are immediately tied up and forced into the duty of being God’s steward.

The duty of being God’s steward felt wrong. It feels wrong  to watch mortals move on with their lives while some get stuck, getting caught by the sorrow of this immortality that has been given upon them.

Peter had the saddest eyes for a long time, but it all changed when he met the love of his life. Peter has seen things; someone’s last breath, some more heart breaking scenarios, etc. But everything changed when she came into his life. She appeared as someone new... and well, unexpected. She was a great surprise, though. She gave Peter a brand new purpose, she gave him happiness. Every time Peter was with her, he would forget about his curse.

Peter’s eyes held sadness again and it broke his heart to know that he couldn’t do anything to save her; his one true love. His heart broke at the harsh reality that no matter what happens, he’ll eternally stay on Earth while he watches his loved ones pass on.

Gathering up his courage, Peter took a deep breath before entering her hospital room. He quietly entered her room and slowly shut the door behind him. He observed the sight in front of him: his wife slept peacefully with their youngest son next to her on the bed while their two older children were asleep on the couch.

He silently approached the bed and held his wife’s hand as he sat on the chair that was next to her bed. He brought her hand to his lips and kissed it. This caused her to stir awake and look at him with a small smile adoring her face.

“Peter.” She breathed.

“Hey there.” Peter said softly as tears clouded his vision. It pained him to see her like that; weak and fragile and ill. If only there was a cure for her cancer, he would’ve given it to her in a heartbeat.

“I love you, Peter. So much.” She whispered.

“I love you more than everything else.” Peter said as tears freely streamed down his rosy cheeks.

“Please remember that my love for you is eternal. I’ll look for you in the next life just so I can love you the way I love you now. I promise you that, Peter.” She smiled softly. Peter could only nod, not trusting his voice to speak.

That was their last moment together. She died in her sleep, her youngest cuddling up to her as Peter held her hand.

The moment life left her body, God took it and gave it to the baby girl of the woman giving birth at the same hospital on a different floor.

“Baby, wake up or you’ll be late on your first day.” The man’s voice whispered in her ear. “Y/N, seriously. It’s time to get up. I’ll have the car ready for you.”

Y/N groaned and rubbed the sleep off her eyes before stretching and sitting up. She slowly opened her eyes and the sight of her boyfriend of three years greeted her. She smiled at him and said, “Good morning.”

“Good morning!” He smiled and leaned down to press a kiss on her forehead. “Breakfast is ready.” She hummed in response and got out of bed. Her boyfriend, Harry, led the way to the dining area and as soon as they arrived there, they sat down and ate their breakfast in peace.

Today was their first day in college and they decided it would be best to live together in an apartment near their university. Harry Osborn, Y/N’s boyfriend, was privileged and he was able to buy an apartment unit that suited his standards. After all, his girl deserved the best. Harry is kind and generous which surprised a lot of people considering his lifestyle. Y/N was truly lucky, but Harry claims that he’s the lucky one.

The couple parted their ways when they arrived at the university; both of them studying different courses. The rest of the day was alright. Nothing really significant happened and Y/N kept to herself most of the time. Only mingling when she’s supposed to. It wasn’t until her last subject when things started taking a turn.

Y/N sat at the back of the class and texted Harry as student after student came in the classroom. About ten minutes later, Y/N’s professor walked in.

Her professor was undeniably handsome. He had brown, curly hair and brown eyes. He wasn’t tall, but he wasn’t short either. His height was just right. He looked like he was in his thirties and he had the brightest smile. Naturally, the girls in her class swooned over him which made her chuckle. While she would admit that her professor is handsome, her loyalty remained with Harry. He was her endgame and she was sure. They wouldn’t last long if he wasn’t.

“Hello, everyone! My name is Noah Parker and I’d let you guys call me by my nickname, but that would be unprofessional. So, Mr. Parker or sir would be really nice.” Noah smiled at everyone. He wasted no time in teaching.

“Welcome to history 101 and I’ll be your professor for the whole semester.” Noah smiled and grabbed a chalk to write something on the board. Seeing as the class is for three hours, Noah started with the first lesson.

It was obvious that Noah was passionate about history. Everyone listened and he made history fun. They did some ice breakers and a short group activity and a quick game before the class ended. Noah gave them their first assignment which was really easy and it would be passed two days from now.

The class was dismissed and everyone gathered their things and left. Y/N took her time and Noah was erasing the things he wrote on the board. Y/N approached him and cleared her throat, “Excuse me, Mr. Parker?”

Noah turned around with a smile, but it quickly faded when he saw her. He dropped the eraser as his jaw dropped, his gaze remaining on her. Y/N was confused, so she just picked up the eraser and put it on his desk to avoid Noah’s gaze.

Noah shook his head and said, “I’m sorry, it’s just- mom? Is that you?”

Now, it was definitely weird

“Excuse me?” Y/N chuckled awkwardly.

“I can’t believe it.” Noah said in amusement. “I thought dad was crazy, but he’s right! You’d be in the next life after all. Well, your next life. You and dad can be together again! This is so cool. Oh my god.” Noah rambled in excitement.

“I’m so confused right now.” Y/N confessed. “I’m no one else’s mom and I don’t know who your dad is and I’m definitely not getting back together with anyone because I have a boyfriend. You must be mistaken, sir.”

Noah cleared his throat and said, “Um, was there anything you needed before?”

“Oh, yes!” Y/N’s eyes lit up at the change of topic. It was her saving grace. “I have a question about the homework, actually.”

Y/N asked about the homework and Noah happily explained it to her once more. After that, she left Noah all alone in the classroom.

Since then, everything has been awkward between them. Noah informed his father, Peter Parker, about what happened and Peter wanted to see her; to see if it was true. Now, it was Noah’s mission to get you to meet Peter.

One day after class, Noah asked Y/N to stay behind. She awkwardly sat on the seat in front of his desk and Noah sat on his chair behind his desk.

“I would just like to apologize for my behavior last time.” Noah started. “Second of all, I must tell you that I have this weird connection to you. No matter how far I stay away from you, there’s a force pulling me closer to you. Lastly, if you won’t believe me before, you might believe me now.”

Noah took out his phone out of his pocket and unlocked it. He opened his gallery and clicked on the album full of photos from his childhood, most of them had his mom in it. He handed the phone to Y/N and she gasped at the sight of the photos.

It was like she was looking at a window to the past. The woman in the pictures looked similar to her; not completely alike. She returned the phone to her professor, Noah, and gave him a tight-lipped smile.

“Um, I don’t know what to say.” Y/N said.

“Could you maybe meet my dad? It would mean a lot to him. I told you about him and he wants to see you.” Noah pleaded.

“I find this really weird, to be honest.” Y/N said. “I don’t know anything you’re talking about and frankly, I’m not curious about my past life...sir.”

“I understand, but could you maybe reconsider? My dad would love it if you’d visit.” Noah pleaded. “If you meet my dad, I’ll give you extra credit. You kinda suck at this subject, no offense.”

“None taken.” She said as she thought about it. “What if someone becomes suspicious about my grades going up?”

“I’ll just say that it’s because of your extra work and just say that you’ve been studying a lot recently. So, does this mean that you’ll meet him?” Noah asked hopefully.

“Fine. Mainly because I need extra credit.” Y/N agreed. She wordlessly grabbed her things and left the room. Later that night, she received an email from Noah.

Noah Parker To Y/N Y/L/N

Good evening, Ms. Y/L/N! 

My father would like to meet with you at my childhood home at 123 Hamilton Street, this Saturday at lunch time, 12 noon. Please confirm if you’re available at this time and if not, we can reschedule.

My personal phone number is: xxx-xxx-xxxxx. Please contact me there for more details.

All information will be kept between the two of us .

Thank you and stay safe!

Lo and behold, Y/N stood outside the Parker Residence. She took a deep breath and rang the doorbell. It didn’t take long for a young man to open the door. He looked similar to Noah, but he looked younger.

“Please come in.” The man said as he looked at her. She entered the home and the man led the way to the living room. Y/N made herself comfortable on the couch and the man who opened the door sat across from her.

“Um, I’m Y/N.” She smiled.

“I know.” The man said. “I’m Peter Parker and oh my god. It’s really you.”

“If you don’t mind me asking, what’s your relation to my professor, Noah Parker?” Y/N asked innocently.

“He’s my son.” Peter answered. “And you’re my wife.”

Y/N stared at him as Peter had happy tears streaming down his face, “We can finally be together again and we’ll be happier than ever! We could be a family.”

“I’m so confused. How can you be Mr. Parker father when you look like you’re twenty-three?!” Y/N shrieked.

“I’m immortal, honey. I stopped aging at twenty, but I’m still me! I love you and you love me. We can be together.”

“I’m so sorry, but I don’t know who you are and I can’t just start a life with someone I don’t know. If you think I can do that, then you’re sorely mistaken, sir.” Y/N said.

Peter shook his head, “But you said , on your deathbed, that you’d find me in another life. I’m here! We found each other. I don’t understand why you don’t want to stay. You said that your love for me is eternal and you’d love me the same way you did then. What happened? Why can’t we pick up where we left off?”

“With all due respect, if what you claim is right; if I’m your wife in the past, then I’m sorry I can’t be your wife in this life. I have my own things going on and I’m in a committed and happy relationship. I can’t leave him for you. Besides, you’re way older than I am despite your looks. I’m really sorry.” Y/N said softly.

“This is more heartbreaking than when we found out you had cancer.” Peter chuckled bitterly and nodded in understanding. “You may go now, Y/N. I’m sure your boyfriend would wonder where you are.”

Y/N stood up and walked to him to put a hand on his shoulder, “I’m really sorry, but I’d like to get to know you… as friends.”

Peter nodded, “Alright. That’s better than nothing.”

After that encounter with Peter, Y/N saw him a few times after that even after she graduated from college. She got a decent job and her friendship with Peter and the rest of the Parker family remained. Though they never saw each other after she got a job, they all remained in contact.

Y/N and Harry Osborn finally got married after being together for so long. The Parkers were invited to the wedding, but Peter never showed up. He was crestfallen upon finding out that the woman he loved was getting married to someone else.

A year later, Y/N and Harry welcomed their first born in the world. They have been graced with a son and the couple agreed that if they were going to have a son, Y/N would name him.

As she laid there with the newborn baby boy in her arms, she racked her brains for the perfect name. After thinking about it for a long time, a smile formed her mouth as she looked down at her son. They were alone in the room, her husband was buying some food outside. This moment was very soft and peaceful.

“I know what name to give you now.” Y/N whispered and kissed her son’s forehead. The door opened and revealed her husband with a paper bag with take-out in it.

“Have you thought of a name?” Harry asked quietly as he set the food down on the table.

“Yeah.” She nodded, sure of her decision.

“What’ll you name him?” Harry asked.

“Peter.” She smiled fondly at her son. “His name is Peter.”

* * * *

𝐏𝐄𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐏𝐀𝐑𝐊𝐄𝐑 𝐓𝐀𝐆𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓: @blueleatherbag @harryismysunflower @buckys-little-hoe @sandystoriess @heeeyitskay @slytherin-chaser @quaksonhehe @yaya4302 @lil-mellow-bunbun @starlight-starks @swiftmind @alexx-stancati @sovereignparker @nerdyandproudofitsstuff @pearce14 @cherthegoddess @chewymoustachio @cocoamoonmalfoy @parkerlovebot @supred12 @peterspidey @givebuckyhisplumsnow @beverlythrillz @slutforsr

𝐆𝐄𝐍𝐄𝐑𝐀𝐋 𝐓𝐀𝐆𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓:  @marvelousell @justasmisunderstoodasloki @rubberducky-jrr @allyz @osterfieldnholland @miraclesoflove @god-knows-what-am-i-doing @drie-the-derp @hollands-weasley @itstaskeen  @call-me-baby-gir1 @the-panwitch @iamaunicorn4704 @geminiparkers @holland-styles @calltothewild @fancyxparker​ @herbatkazmiloscia @whatthefuckimbisexual @justanothermarvelmaniac @unsaidholland @musicalkeys @lost-in-the-stars03 @hufflepuffprincess24 @hollanddolanfangirl @parkerpeter24 @bellelittleoff @agentnataliahofferson @aqiise @lexirv @blairscott @pearly-pisces @theonly1outof-a-billion @u-rrose @speedymaximoff @theliterarymess

[keepmeinthedark]

To The Top || A Marauders Band AU

Chapter Two: You Gotta Not

Read here on A03

So Lily Evans brought a big asset to the band?

Only if you consider Remus Lupin to be a big asset, which I do.

Did Lily introduce them?

In time.

What happened in the meantime?

Before Remus joined the band there was just James, Sirius, and Frank. They lived together in this house called Maxwells house. It belonged to these twins Fabian and Gideon and they opened it up to anyone who needed a home. 

And what was Remus doing? What were you doing?

I was in Germany at the time, Remus was at university. But he had been friends with Lily since they were young and even though he was staying in a student accommodation he wasn't too far away for their friendship to change in any way.

//

Lily and Remus had spent New Year's Eve together. One of Remus' classmates held a party which they attended and stayed until the clock struck midnight. By the time they had made it back to his accommodation, it was three in the morning. They had both slept in Remus' bed without bothering to change their clothes or even take their make-up off, which then lead to one of the worst mornings in both of their lives.

It was eight in the morning when Remus's phone went off. He groaned when he saw his twin brother's name appear on the screen and held the phone to his ear.

"Hello?"

"Re, where are you?"

"What do you mean?" he paused. "Am I supposed to be somewhere?"

He could practically feel Rom rolling his eyes. "You and Lily both promised Mum that you'd help with the fate. Remember? The fate? The one that Mum has been stressing over for weeks?"

Shit.

"Ohhh yeah, yeah I completely remember god who do you take me for? Yeah me and Lils are on our way now, well be like five minutes tops I promise." and with that, he quickly hung up.

Shit Shit Shit Shit.

"Lily come on, we have to go," Remus said quickly as he shook his best friend awake.

Lily only groaned as she lifted her head off the pillow, she watched Remus rush around the room to grab the makeup wipes and cleaned off the smudged eyeliner he still had on. 

Lily didn't wait for an explanation, she just got out of the bed and found her way towards the nearest hairbrush.  It wasn't until they were waiting for the bus that Lily had asked where they were going.

"My mum's thing, remember? We said we would help."

Lily didn't look like she remembered but she nodded anyway. 

 "How long do you think we'll be?" 

Remus shrugged, "No idea. Why? Got somewhere to be?"

Lily rolled her eyes, "Got a hangover to cure is more like it."

 They had gotten to the fate twenty minutes later and immediately regretted not faking a sickness to get out of it.

Hope Lupin was a powerhouse and an amazing mum, she was loving and caring, and gentle. But she was a single mum who had raised three boys and was in the middle of raising another, which made her incredibly scary when she was stressed.

"There you two are!" she exclaimed when she saw Remus and Lily making their way down the field where the fate was being held. "I was about to send Petunia off after you guys, honestly why are you so late?"

Remus panicked, "Headache," he said.

Hope placed her hands to her hips and raised an eyebrow, "Is headache code for a hangover?" 

They both nodded.

Hope sighed, "There's coke, bananas, and water in that tent over there. Go and tip half of the water out of a bottle, fill the rest with coke, drink that, and eat a banana. I don't have time for this." she told them, quickly adding, "Its a hangover remedy," after seeing their confused faces.

"Where was this remedy all the other times we've been hungover?" Lily asked, acting offended.

Hope shrugged, "You never asked." 

"Still could've been useful." 

"How am I supposed to know that you're hungover if you never tell me!?" Hope exclaimed, throwing her hands in the air and turning her back on them in order to do other things.

"You're Mum!" Remus yelled back. "You know everything!"

"Two minutes! Get a move on!" was all that Hope yelled back.

 As Hope had promised the flat coke and bananas had helped their hangovers but unfortunately didn't make them any more prepared for the long day ahead of them. Remus' parents had divorced three years ago when Lyall had admitted that he had fallen for someone else. Remus doubts that his parents have ever been in love. They had his older brother, Lycus when they were in their twenties and before they were married. They did get married not long after he was born and three years after that they had Romulus and Remus, the twins also weren't planned. Neither was Macca, Remus' younger brother who was only 2 years old at the time of the divorce. 

His father's new girlfriend didn't last very long and got intimidated by the fact that he had four sons. Romulus has always said that he was certain that there was no girl, to begin with, they had never met her and their dad wasn't exactly someone who had luck when it came to romance. Romulus swears that he made her up to use as an excuse to get a divorce. Lycus believes him. Remus doesn't. 

Hope and Lyall still remained close friends and the boys are allowed to stay with either one of them as much as they like, but they spend the majority of their time with Hope, or at least Lycus, Romulus, and Remus do. Macca, who is now five, spends Monday to Thursday with Hope and Friday to Sunday with Lyall in hopes that he will grow up to have a close relationship with both parents.

Remus had nothing against his father, he was a good dad and never failed to make Remus feel loved. But he wasn't yet out to his dad yet and wasn't sure if it would go well if he did come out to him. He likes to think that his dad would try to be supportive but still doesn't want anything to change between them. Not only that but he preferred his mum's cooking.

Lyall worked as a teacher for a primary school near where he lived and Hope owned her own florist in town but would always pop into the other shops there to see if they needed any help when she had the time, which is what led to her helping out with the local coffee shops fate in order to help raise money for cancer research. This wasn't the first time Hope had dragged her children out of their usual routines to stand in a field in the middle of winter and most certainly won't be the last. But they always came, Remus would never admit it but he quite enjoyed these things. Hope had always wanted to help with certain school and church events and Remus was proud to have a mum who was so loved in the community, even if she was scary when she got into her boss mode.

By the time Remus had finished their drinks and properly woke up, there was already a crowd of people going around each stall, Remus had seen Romulus surrounded by little kids. He called them over when he saw them.

"Remus! Lily! You two are captains get over here!"

"Oh bloody hell," Remus said under his breath, noticing the football that he had in his hands.

  Sirius felt like his figures were going to fall off. It was January 1st, who set up an outdoor event on January 1st.

They had only just got there and he already wanted to desperately go home, he didn't dream his parents irrelevant and leave his whole family behind at the age of 22 just to play in the freezing cold, but James had insisted that this would be worth it and he seemed so excited for every gig Sirius could never say no.

It was during their first set that Sirius had seen her.

She had been all that James had talked about since their gig at the pub on Christmas eve, he could recite her description by memory.

Dark red hair that reached her chest.

Emerald green eyes.

Plus size

A smile that glows.

Exactly a head smaller than James.

Two piercings in her ear lobe and one in her cartilage.

A tattoo of a small tattoo of a wolf behind her ear.

And she was wearing white Doc Martens.

Yep, that was her. It had to be, she ticked every box (apart from the tattoo as she was too far away for Sirius to get a proper look. But she looked like a girl that would have one.)

Sirius' heart leaped. James was going to be so excited, all he could talk about throughout Christmas was how much he regretted not asking for her Instagram. He had to tell him.

He was going to tell him.

He had it all planned. He was going to give James that smile that only James got, the one that said "I know something you don't know," James always got so excited at good news. 

Then he was going to ask James once more how Lily Evans looked, and James would go on a ramble, giving out as much information about this girl that he could remember. Then he would spin James around and point her out and knowing James he would probably scream. Sirius couldn't wait, he was a hopeless romantic after all.

As they went through each song he couldn't take his eyes off her, he had to make sure that he knew where she was when he told James. And he was going to tell him, he was certain of it.

That is, he was certain of it until he saw him.

Now that's a sight that he will never be able to get out of his head.

Short blond curly hair.

Tall.

Thin, yet still had a bit of muscle.

Crooked nose. 

Amber eyes.

And a large scar going across his face, from his right eye down through his nose and ending just before his lips.

God his lips!

As they played on Sirius began to notice more and more about this mystery boy. He seemed to be friendly with Lily, they were playing football with a group of kids and it was obvious that he was pretending to not be good for their sake. There was another boy with them who had similar features. Must be a brother, Sirius thought.

The boy was dressed in a Queen t-shirt, a white one with a long-sleeved black shirt underneath, and his jeans were ripped. He wore eyeliner, his nails were painted black and he had multiple rings on his figures.

Sirius had never been more turned on until he saw him take a five-minute break to smoke a cigarette.

Sirius could never date a smoker. James was enough trouble, Sirius had lost count on how many times he had told him that he ought to quit but he never listens. Smoking kills everyone knows this so why did some people think that by some miracle they could be the exception.

Sirius was about to give it all up then and there, make his eyes go back to following Lily around, or maybe even have his brain focus on what he was actually supposed to be going. But once the boy had put out his cigarette and rejoined the group of kids one of them had fallen over and hurt their knee. The boy crouched down to their level and talked to the boy until he laughed while Lily got a wet paper towel and a plaster.

Damit, Sirius thought. Why do guys with kids always have to be so damn attractive?

 For the rest of their set, the only thing Sirius could see was him.

He had forgotten all about Lily Evans until they had finished. When they had gotten off the stage James had been bouncing up and down. His smile was the widest he had ever seen it. 

"It's her," he said quickly.

"Whos her?" Frank asked, looking at the crowd confused.

"Her, her. That girl I met a the pub last week. She's here."

"Go talk to her then." And while you're at it get me her mate's number?

James began to pale, "I can't just go up and talk to her," he told them shaking his head. "What if she hates me?"

Frank raised an eyebrow, "Why would she hate you, I thought you hit it off?"

"We did!"

"So go talk to her!"

James looked at Lily and then back at Sirius and Frank. He had now started picking at his figure nails, slowly picking one off and throwing it onto the ground.

"What do I say?" He asked, desperately. 

Frank seemed very confident. "Mate, you've just played for the entire day she surly noticed that it was you at one point. She's probably begging for you to go and talk to her."

James looked confused, "Then why hasn't she come up to me?" His eyes suddenly widened. "What if she really isn't interested? I mean I know I didn't ask for her Snapchat or anything but she didn't ask for mine either!" he said in one breath. Sirius was sure he may faint if he thought anymore.

Both James and Sirius looked at Frank who rolled his eyes. "She's the girl. You're supposed to be the one to ask her out and make the first move. Most girls are scared to ask out guys cause guys suck." He said it as if it was the most obvious thing ever. "Just take a deep breath, channel your confidence, and swipe her off her feet. You've got this."

James took a breath and nodded before making his way towards Lily who was having a conversation with a much taller boy. He looked a bit like Sirius' mystery boy but older, taller, and with darker hair and no scar. Maybe another brother.

Sirius and Frank both watched James approached Lily in silence. They watched him ask to talk to her, Sirius didn't miss the smile that appeared across her face. Unfortunately said smile began to slowly disappear once James began talking and before anyone could realize that this was indeed a bad idea, Lily had slapped James across the face and had begun to walk in the other direction. 

James all but stomped back towards Sirius and Frank, his glasses had fallen to the tip of his nose and his face had gone nearly bright red, though Sirius couldn't tell if it was from anger or embarrassment. 

He mumbled a "Let's go" and grabbed all of his belongings before making his way towards the van. All Sirius and Frank could do was stare at each other in disbelief.

"This is why we don't leave him alone unsupervised," Sirius mumbled. 

[dandelionflower]

Felinette where after 10 years the school reunion happens but Mari and Felix are at the hospital since Mari is giving birth. At the reunion Lila tries her lies about Mari but the birth of Mari and Felix's kid is going live since Mari is a famous designer and Felix is her model.

[send me Felinette prompts/requests]

“Hey, girl!” Alya hugged Lila, grinning bright. “Guess who got herself an interview with Jagged Stone’s son last week?”

“You mean Shatter?” Lila smiled at her, voice softening like when a mother consoles a child. “He’s such a sweetie, isn’t he?”

“It’s Shawn, but yeah.” Alya grinned at the memory.

The wedding between Penny Rolling and Jagged Stone has happened when they were all just fourteen, and Shawn was born that next year.

The year Lila told them about her lies.

She admitted that she had lied about her trips, her connections, and being Ladybug’s friend. The only truth was knowing Jagged Stone, but that was because he was her godfather, not because she saved his kitten.

She was bawling on the floor, begging for forgiveness that the class surely gave.

Alya was twenty-nine now, and her journalistic pursuits were thriving, just like everyone else.

Rose had become a highly esteemed business woman, and Juleka was modeling so much, you couldn’t look at a magazine kiosk without seeing her face.

Ivan was a well-paid bodyguard for Mylene, who had gained fame by protesting all sorts of environmental atrocities. They had broken up after they had turned seventeen, but rumor had it that those old bonds were slowly repairing themselves.

Alix had become a famous rollerblader, breaking a record for fastest cross country time and took up ice skating; she was going to the next Olympic Games.

Kim was now the most wanted stuntmen in the world, for his lack of fear and uncanny ability to not die from heights.

Nathaniel and Marc parted ways as they went to different colleges, but were still in contact. Nathaniel often called Marc when the storyline for his comic book seemed a bit off and Marc would gladly tell him that the author was just being an idiot.

Max and Sabrina, amazingly enough, got married; they completed their medical doctorates together and, once they made enough money, went back to college to get degrees in technology and math for Max and philosophy and psychology for Sabrina.

Together, they found the cure for cancer and Sabrina ended up writing a bestselling self-help novel, Henchman: just one good friend isn’t always enough. Max had patented his AI technology and Markov got his own talk show.

Adrien was working with Child Protective Services and other organizations to help children in bad situations. His father’s company took a massive tank after Hawkmoth’s reveal and Adrien did nothing to keep it afloat.

Chloe took up acting. She was well known for her amazing performances of evil queens, heinous witches, terrifying stepmothers. She, of course, took it all in stride.

No one really knew what Lila or Marinette were up to, finding out was probably the reason most of them were here.

And Nino...

Nino was living life happily as a popular song composer with his daughter Harley, the daughter Alya missed with every passing day.

She shook her head. Now wasn’t time to dwell on recent events, now was a time to look back at the past and reminisce.

“Have you seen Marinette? I’ve been wondering what she’s been up to these past ten years.” Alya commented, barely noticing Lila stiffen up. “You too. I gave you my number for a reason, you know.”

“Yeah, but I lost my phone in the trenches and you know how bad my memory is.” She laughed, batting her hand in the air.

“Yeah, I do. So tell me now; what about trenches?”

“I’ve been doing some peace talks, you know, nothing big.”

“Like Mylene was?”

“...yeah, like that. Just on a slightly larger scale.”

“Larger than stopping the Third World War? Dang girl.”

“I’ve also been doing some acting in foreign films and donating my extra time to children in need.”

“Like Chloe, Kim, and Adrien!”

Her eye twitched. “So, is Marinette coming, or is she...”

“She’s definitely coming. She wouldn’t miss a class reunion for the world.”

“Are you sure, because I saw her not too long ago today and she didn’t seem to prepared.”

“She’s coming.” Alya spoke firmly.

“Hi Alya! Hi Lila!” Rose jumped in and hugged them both tightly. “Have either of you seen Mari? I need to give her congratulations.”

“Congratulations? For what?”

“She got married a while back! I was really busy though, so I wasn’t able to go to the wedding. Her number changed too so I couldn’t call her either.”

Alya frowned. She hadn’t gotten any invitation.

“She got married?” Lila gasped. “But who was that man she was kissing in the coffee shop?”

“That was probably him; I don’t know him well, but I remember him being blond.” Rose grinned.

“Are you sure? He seemed pretty red headed when I saw them.” She pressed her hands to her face. “You don’t think...”

“Lila, come on. Mari wouldn’t cheat on her husband.”

“Yeah... we’ll just talk to her when she gets here.” Lila agreed. “If she gets here in time.”

“She will.” Alya nodded, reassuring Lila with a smile.

For some reason, she didn’t seem too certain.

—

Hours passed and everyone had given a speech on the stage, all but one.

“Where could she be?” Alya hissed to herself, texting Marinette again and again only to get a message declaring her number inactive.

“Maybe she’s just not-“ Lila was cut off when Alya held up her hand.

“Don’t. Just don’t.”

The sound of feedback filled the room and every head turned towards the stage, where Miss Bustier was standing.

She looked almost the same, with her red hair in a bun and her crisp pale blue pantsuit. The signs of time were still there, though, in the wrinkles around her eyes and the sparkling grey at her roots.

“Hello class!” She paused and listened to them cheer. “We’ve heard all of your accounts of your school years, and now it’s time for your class president to have a word.”

Chatter filled the air, each person turning to look for the blurnette.

“Oh, I can’t wait to see her!” Rose squealed to Juleka. “I need to get her new number.”

Juleka glanced sideways at her. “She’s been texting me for months.”

“What?” Rose scrolled through her phone and stopped. “Oh! Here it is! My phone is set to block unknown numbers.” She clicked a button and grinned as she made a new contact for her, with lots of emojis.

“Where’s Marinette?” Someone yelled. “Shouldn’t she be here?”

“I’m afraid Marinette had some prior engagements.” Miss Bustier clicked a pointer to a projector. “But, luckily, we are able to see exactly what it is.”

Light funneled out of the projector and the class was treated to what looked like a home movie.

It was in a hospital, but one boys face overtook the screen. He had on a blue striped shirt and a cheeky smile.

“Hey ma peeps! For those of you just joining us, I’m Claude...”

Another boy popped up in a green beret. “And I’m Mercury.”

“...and this is the livestream of the birth of a demigod!”

Sabrina and Max rose their fists and started chanting, “Elise! Elise! Elise!”

Ivan and Mylene glared at them playfully and started their own chant. “Dean! Dean! Dean!”

“What are they talking about?” Alya whispered to Rose.

“Didn’t you know? I just found out, it’s-“ she was cut off by a familiar voice coming from the speakers.

“Claude, I swear, if you don’t turn off that camera right now...”

The camera panned to a blue haired woman lying in a bed, a platinum blond man by her side.

“Sorry, Madame Culpa-Dupain-Cheng,” he laughed as Alya gasped inside the gymnasium, “you’re bedridden, so I’m not afraid of you.”

“Felix is still here.” She pointed out, leveling a finger at the camera. “Felix, get ‘im.”

The blond looked somewhere behind the camera’s field of view and made to move, but stopped as Marinette shouted out in pain.

“Felix,” she panted, after the screaming ceased, “I just want you to know that I love you, but I am never doing this again.” She looked up at him and received an amused grin.

“Fine by me.” He kissed her temple and Claude spoke again.

“You heard it here first folks! The legendary child, the only of its kind!”

She glared at him again. “Felix, if you don’t mind.”

“It would be my pleasure.” He began rolling up his sleeves and began walking towards Claude with a brisk pace.

“Uh, Claude?” Mercury, spoke with a nervous lilt to his voice.

“Well, that’s our live secret look into the birth of the legendary child of famous designer Marinette Culpa-Dupain-Chang and her photographer Felix Culpa-Dupain-Cheng!” Claude opened the door and hurried out. “Comment below on what you think the gender of the legend child will be and what the parents should name them; Claude Junior...”

“Or Mercury Junior!”

“Or the great Allegra the second?”

“Guys?” Adrien stood up from where he was sitting next to a blonde woman in a braid and a darker haired woman. “Is everything okay in there?”

“In there, fine, but out here?”

“There is a man on a mission behind us and that mission includes the removal of our tongues.”

“Better keep running, then.” The dark haired girl shouted, not even glancing up from her phone.

“Indeed.” Felix’s voice came from close behind the camera.

Both Claude and Mercury shrieked and began running down the hall once more, the other girl beside Adrien laughing while shouting, “Get ‘em good Felix!”

Alya stood stock-still, staring at the black screen.

Marinette is having a baby.

Adrien and four strangers are there for it.

She got married.

I didn’t know about it.

Lila said she saw Marinette today when she’s clearly been in the hospital all day, and is obviously in love with that Felix guy.

Suddenly, the fact that no one else but Rose, the sweetest person in class, had been talking to Lila was making a whole lot more sense.

@virgil-is-a-cutie

[nosferatvpussy]

distorted lullabies [chapter X]

Word count: 9,034  (big chapter again... I’m sorry?)

Warnings: vulgar language

Pairing: Dracula x female reader

AO3 link

___________________________________________________________

Friday. The day before the big day. 

Evelyn would finally tie the knot and I would, hopefully, be still alive by the end of the night and be free of Count Dracula. If everything went according to plan, in a few years I would only remember him as that mysterious guy I once had a fling with and reminisce about him over wine on nights where I found myself lonely.

I should not remember Count Dracula as the guy I had a fling with nor should I ever think about him as I was lonely. It would be better if I didn’t think about him at all, for the rest of my life. The fact that my brain hadn’t immediately presented that as an option was worrisome enough to make me press the button for St Thomas Hospital’s ground floor again, like that would make the lift descend faster. 

The faster I met with Zoe, the faster I would be reminded of the dangers of thinking about Dracula as any sort of romantic interest. That wasn’t an alternative – not when I was cornered into choosing eternal life or dying. 

“This can’t go on, Zoe,” said a male voice. 

I’d been in the process of entering the hospital’s lobby when I heard it and stopped dead in my tracks, dodging behind a flower bouquet display for sale. I grabbed one of the ‘get well’ cards and pretended to read it, pricking my ears up. The attendant circled the counter, offering to help me with the appropriate bouquet and telling me how I could buy one and send it up to my loved one’s room, but I quickly waved her away. 

I wasn’t entirely sure why I decided to hide but my gut told me this wasn’t a conversation I was supposed to hear. Like the world’s worst spy, I peered up between leaves and colourful flowers to see Zoe, sitting down on one of the hospital’s ugly couches as a young man paced in front of her, hands on his waist like he was scolding her. Zoe was facing sideways but I wasn’t in her line of vision, leading me to shift closer so I could hear the man. 

“... strong enough. You’re near death, for God’s sake! And you want to take him down with you?”

“Keep your voice down, Jack,” Zoe said. 

She tried to grab his wrist but he stepped out of her reach, shaking his head to the sides. Jack, her student if memory served, was one of those people that could be anywhere between 16 and 30. His pale face didn’t bear a shadow of a beard, which made me wonder if he could grow one at all, but his huge eyes looked so frightened and troubled that he couldn’t be a teenager.

“Zoe, this is a stupid plan...” he said something else in a hushed voice, and I moved closer, straining my hearing. “...happened in Surrey wasn’t enough for you? The Foundation has to stop. Everything has to stop! This is wrong, and you know it.” Shock kept me from gasping but I couldn’t help when my mouth fell open. “Why do you care about this woman? I ask you for help with Lucy, my- my best friend, and you push me away but you run to help this woman you barely know! You’ve known me for years, Zoe. I trusted you every step of the way with the Foundation but you can’t do this for me?”

“You don’t understand. There is no way I can help you with Lucy because she does not want to be helped. Y/N does! She wants out and after reviewing her reputation in London’s courtrooms, she doesn’t mind if things get ugly, either. She’ll do anything to be free of Count Dracula, I’m sure of it, but I’m not sure you’re willing to go that far, Jack.”

“I am!” He protested, slamming his foot on the floor. “I… I love Lucy, Zoe. I’ll do anything for her!”

“Would you let other people risk their lives for her? I’ll have over fifty people risking their lives at this wedding, not to say about the other two hundred guests that will be in danger if we don’t manage to get Dracula. Y/N can handle it but do you want something like that on your conscience?”

“No! But it’s stupid, Zoe. Nobody needs to–” he whispered the word but ‘die’ was clear on his mouth. “Help me get Lucy out of London and let Dracula have Y/N! Lucy will be safe with me, I’ll take her to Ireland, yeah,” –he nodded, face brightening– “she’ll stay with me and my grandparents until she gets better and the Count will be too wrapped up with Y/N to take any notice. It’s a great plan.”

“It’s a naïve one, Jack. Lucy won’t go willingly, that’s called kidnapping by the way, and I need Count Dracula. Is that included in your plan?” Zoe paused and Jack simply stared at her in silence. “I know it’s not. Unlike yours, my plan has a high chance of working–”

“At what cost?”

“–and Lucy will be free by the end of it, same as yours,” Zoe continued like he hadn’t spoken. “It’s not up for discussion, Jack, I told you about this as a courtesy, now go wait for me in the car. I know you’re angry but do me a favour and don’t storm off, I’m really in no condition to drive.” She looked at the watch on her wrist. “Y/N will be here any minute, she usually finishes up with visiting Mr. Renfield about this hour. Go, Jack.”

Jack stood there in a staring contest with Zoe. Not a moment later, Jack lowered his eyes, granting her the win before making his way towards the exit. I raised the get well card, concealing my face behind it as he passed me. I had never seen him before but now that I knew he was driving Zoe around, I couldn't be sure that he didn’t know me.

If I could, I would find somewhere to sit and ruminate about their conversation but then Zoe would have enough time to grow suspicious about my delay. 

As soon as Jack disappeared from my sight, I threw the card on the counter and strode over to where Zoe was sitting. 

I hadn’t made up my mind about how I was going to deal with what I had just heard until I took one look at her face. She was paler than when I last saw her and now her skin had a greenish tint that solidified death’s hold over her body. Her eyes appeared sunken like she’d lost a lot of weight in the span of the past week, but that could be the dark circles around them playing a trick on my brain. Zoe gave me a shaky smile that made me sit down next to her as if I was made of stone.

“I know I look like shit,” she said, patting my knee. “Save the pity.”

“I don’t pity you but I am worried about you. Is the cancer getting worse?”

“A bit but you caught me on a bad day, that’s all. Are you ready?”

“Zoe–” I began but she threw me a cold look with a slight shake of her head. “Okay, you don’t want sympathy, fine, but is there anything I can do for you?”

“Yes, now that we have these” –she pulled an orange pill bottle from her pocket and shook it– “you can trap Count Dracula. That’s what you can do for me.”

I plucked the tiny bottle from her fingers, analysing the two pills inside of it – one of them red and the other one blue – and then started to laugh. Zoe furrowed her brows but her lips tugged up, waiting for a cue to start laughing, too.

“Matrix pills,” I explained between laughs but Zoe didn’t join in, apparently clueless. “Keanu Reeves is offered two pills in the film, the blue one keeps him living in willful ignorance from the evil in the world and the red one is, well, freedom, if we put it simply.”

“Nevermind their colour, both of these are your red pill.” Her mouth quirked up. “Follow the white rabbit.”

“Hey, you know it!” I grinned. 

“Yeah, I’m a cool kid.” Zoe chuckled but was interrupted by a cough that soon left her out of breath. She waved me off before I offered help, so I stood there, waiting for her to cough up a lung anytime. “I made two–” another series of coughs “–two pills–” she cleared her throat and took a deep breath “–just in case... but I can replicate them if this fails and we need more in the future. I ran out of blue cases which is why they’re different colours.”

Remembering the day I first met Zoe and how she mentioned that studying Count Dracula might help with finding a cure for her cancer, I was filled with a determination I didn’t feel often in my everyday life. This plan wasn’t all about me. I needed to do this for Zoe so she could have a chance, too, no matter what.

“I’ll take the red pill for good luck,” I told her. “Does it actually work?”

“Yes, it works. Before they ingested the medication, the subjects were asked to memorise sequences from a card deck and play a memory game with them while we monitored brain waves. We continued mapping their brain all throughout the test, including the moment of the pill’s ingestion–” Zoe stopped, taking several breaths and sounding like she’d just ran a marathon.

“Okay, no need to explain the science behind it. If it works, I’m fine with it. What about the side effects?”

“Still the same ones, unfortunately. Short term memory loss is still a possibility which is why the plan needs to move fast after you take the pill. Here, you’ll need this, too.” From another pocket, she pulled a mobile phone and gave it to me. There wasn’t a scratch on the screen so I assumed it was brand new. “There are a few numbers saved in the contact list, one of them is mine. In my condition, it’s best that I stay in London, and if I go anywhere near Berkeley I bet Dracula will be able to scent me. Anything feels weird to you, anything at all, you text me and we abort the plan. Remember, text this time. We’ll destroy the phone later anyway. If you call me from inside the Berkeley Castle, the Count might be able to overhear it. Raoul’s and Sylvia’s numbers are saved there, too. Who are them, again?”

“Zoe, we’ve been through this–”

“I know we have but I need to be sure you remember. Parrot it back to me.”

I took a deep breath.

“Raoul is the burly french guy you showed me a picture of last time we met. He’ll pose as a waiter at the reception; when I’m ready, I ask him for a Manhattan. Terrible drink, by the way, I’m absolutely not drinking that.” I made a face of disgust and Zoe snorted. “Raoul will leave to ‘get the drink’”–I made air quotes–“ but he’ll take too long, so I tell Dracula that I’ll go look for the waiter because I’m really thirsting for a Manhattan. Then I slip out to the ladies’ room and take one of the pills. I’ll return to Dracula, annoyed because I couldn’t find the waiter, and ask him to join me in the garden.” Now, for the scary part. “Away from everyone, I’ll let him bite me and pray that this bloody pill works and he doesn’t kill me.”

“It’ll work.” Zoe clasped my hand and squeezed it.

“Sylvia is the tiny girl with short red hair disguised as one of the wedding planners,” I continued. “She’ll be outside all night, controlling who can go in and come out of the castle and she’ll have a panoramic view of the gardens. When Dracula is, huh, distracted drinking my blood, Sylvia will turn on the UV lights in the garden. If I’m still alive, I’ll run as your team moves in on him.”

“Now, for the final blow,” announced Zoe as she rummaged through her purse. She showed me a pen, black and slim. It looked like one those fancy, expensive ones posh people usually had. “It’s not an actual pen,” she explained as if reading my thoughts. “Looks like one, yeah but it’s a modified insulin pen.” She opened it and my nose was attacked by a wave of lavender, rosemary, and cinnamon. Not a nice combination. I was still grimacing when I noticed the tiny needle at the tip. “Inside of it, there are essential oils to disguise the scent of our true weapon, my blood.”

My mouth dropped open. It was sick, and genius at the same time. 

“You didn’t tell me about this part of the plan.”

“I didn’t think of it until three days ago.” Zoe closed the pen and handed it to me. I took it like it was made of crystal. “When Dracula bit me, my blood crippled him enough for the Foundation to take him into custody without any casualties. It was surprisingly easy once he was poisoned by it, I expect it’ll work perfectly this time, too. The pen is pressure activated. Jab him with it when you think he’s sufficiently distracted drinking you and he’ll go down like a ton of bricks.”

“Brilliant,” I said, turning the pen between my fingers. “Can we still keep the UV lights, though? Safety and all.”

“We’ll keep them. You’re all set now. Are you leaving tonight?”

“Yeah. I’ll take a train to Gloucester at 9pm. It’s twenty minutes away from Berkeley by car, so it should be fine.”

“Are you staying in Gloucester or Berkeley?”

“Gloucester. There weren’t vacancies in Berkeley anymore. It’ll be a full wedding, I guess. Will you need samples today? It’s all healed up now.” I pointed at the side of my neck where Dracula had bit me.

Apprehension made me hold my breath. What if Zoe collected my blood and somehow found out it was different because I drank the Count’s blood? I hadn’t told her about that, and I frankly had no plans to, whether it impacted her research or not. As much as I would like to deny it, that moment at the park was terrifying and sensuous at the same time, and entirely mine to remember. Zoe would only ruin it with her scolding and I wanted to keep at least a few good memories. 

“No,” said Zoe, assuaging my worry. “Now that it’s healed there aren’t any antibodies and white blood cells being produced specifically to combat the wound. There’s no point in collecting samples.”

Zoe and I stared at each other as silence fell, our resolve making our gazes nearly clang in the air. 

I trusted Zoe to make this work; trusted her because I knew she not only wanted this but needed this to survive. How far that trust reached was an entirely different matter. She was hiding something from me, and now, after overhearing Jack spouting at her, I knew it involved the Foundation and what happened to those poor students in Surrey. The fact that she had lied to me that day meant that I wouldn’t like the truth if I heard it, which is why I needed to know.

“Do I have to worry about what happened in Surrey?”

Zoe shut her eyes and threw her head back as she blew out a breath.

“You heard all of that?” Her voice was calm. Not such a bad liar, after all.

“Most of it. So. Anything you want to tell me?”

“Not really. Two of Jack’s friends from the Foundation got conscience heavy about some things and committed suicide.”

“The news are saying it was murder,” I countered.

“The news are making a spectacle,” Zoe said with a touch of finality. “It was suicide.”

I watched her carefully, shooting her one of my most piercing stares but she simply stared back without crumbling. 

I wouldn’t be quick to trust Zoe’s word on that matter; she’d lied before about it. It confirmed my suspicion that the Jonathan Harker Foundation was shady but as long as it didn’t affect me under these extraneous circumstances, I didn’t care what had weighed enough on those boys’ minds to commit suicide, or murder each other if the news were right. I knew damn well I should care like any person would and I found myself wondering if my ability to be stone-cold was something that appealed to Count Dracula.

What did it matter what appealed to him? In the next 48 hours I would be free of him. I’d never hear his voice again or look upon his face. I’d never live in fear of him again. 

But why wasn’t I dancing with joy at the prospect of going back to my normal life?

“Who’s Lucy?” I blurted. 

From what Jack said, I had a pretty good idea of who she was to Count Dracula but I needed to hear Zoe say it. I needed to be reminded that I wasn’t special, and it was more than my life on the line.

“A friend of Jack’s,” Zoe breathed. “Dracula has been feeding from her ever since he got here. She’s a willing donor, it seems. Jack thinks she’s very fond of Count Dracula.” Zoe stared at me with raised eyebrows to let me know just what type of fondness she was talking about. “Protective of him, too. Jack said she threw a massive fit when he questioned her about the bites on her neck.”

Something tore inside me. I tried to push it aside but my nose started to burn like I was about to cry.

This was what I’d wanted when I asked Zoe about Lucy, wasn’t it? Another reason why my entire ‘relationship’, if one could call it that, with Count Dracula wasn’t real. He had been manipulating me from the very beginning, and I should’ve been smarter than to fall for it, yet here I was: feeling betrayed and rejected, wishing to be swallowed by the ground for ever having thought that I mattered to him when I was just a conquest to keep him entertained while he drained Lucy. I should feel glad that he wasn’t that infatuated by me because it would make things easier but I felt the furthest thing from victorious in that moment.

I blinked to clear the tears that had threatened to spill. 

“I’m being ridiculous,” I murmured, looking down at my hands because I was too ashamed to look at Zoe. “Anyway. Why don’t we review plans B, C, D and all the rest of the alphabet in case things go south and I can’t stab Dracula with this?” I shook the pen.

“Y/N–” Zoe’s voice was gentle, and I gritted my teeth.

“Oh, please don’t be nice. You don’t want sympathy and neither do I. Come on, plan B. I think I’m still a little off on the details, so help me out.”

“It’s the bond, Y/N. Whatever you’re feeling, it’s not real.” 

I nodded, meeting her eyes briefly before looking down at my hands again.

“Right. So, plan B…”

When we were done reviewing the other scenarios, I barely remembered what I’d been so sad about but my chest still felt constricted as I headed home.

_______________________________________________________________

I thought I had it all figured out as I closed my suitcase. The jealousy and rejection I’d felt earlier must have derived from the bond I shared with the Count; much like Renfield had gone into a fit upon finding out his ‘master’ had bitten me, I had felt a figment of that when Zoe told me about Lucy. 

Simple as that. 

But when my phone rang and I saw the name Count Dracula, I almost didn’t answer him out of spite. 

“Stupid fucking bond,” I cursed, staring at the screen. “It’s not real, Y/N. Just answer him. He probably just wants to ask how to get to Berkeley.” I noticed my reflection on my window and frowned. “Talking to myself, excellent. I’ll be like Renfield in no time.” I grabbed the phone. “Hi.”

“What are you wearing?” Dracula asked, making my eyebrows shoot up.

“Usually there’s more foreplay before phone sex,” I blurted, and smacked my forehead as soon as I said it. 

Silence. And then a hearty laugh.

“I meant the wedding. But, I’m delighted to know that’s been on your mind. Would you care to elaborate, darling?”

Stupid, stupid, stupid.

“It was a joke,” I managed to say, throwing myself on my bed and placing a pillow over my face as if that could keep my cheeks from blushing.

“Of course it was,” he said, still laughing. “So, what colour is your dress? People tend to match for occasions like this, right?”

“Purple,” I replied, hoping my smile didn’t come through in the word. Was he worried about us looking good together? And why was this so endearing to me?

“Ah, perfect.”

“Is your tie purple, too?”

“No, but it’ll match. You can come down, now.”

“Come down to where?”

“I’m outside of your house,” he said. My doorbell rang as evidence, making me fling the pillow I had on my face across the room. “I’d only thought of the tie when I got here and I feared we would be late in case I needed to return home to–”

“No, I will be late.” I sat up. “I’ve got a train to catch for Gloucester in an hour. I can’t go on a date with you tonight.”

“It’s not a date and you’re not taking the train. I bought this car and I mean to use it, so I’m driving us there tonight.”

I didn’t know where to start; the fact that he had probably planned this and not warned me in advance – better yet, asked me! – or that he expected me to simply comply and come down because he said so. 

Instead, what came out of my mouth was, “It’s a three hour drive!”

“We can make it in less than that. Are you all packed?”

“Yes but I’m not going with you. I already bought train tickets. I’m not wasting my money and I’d much rather go by train and arrive there earlier than travel with you.”

“I’ll pay you back, and I promise I’ll be fun company.”

I stood up from the bed and started stomping around my room.

“You can’t make demands and expect me to obey. I don’t know how women were during your time but I certainly won’t–”

“Yes, yes, you bow to no one. We’re very clear on that,” he said with plain impatience and mockery, which made me huff in affront. “Take this road trip” –he chuckled– “as part of your deal. Like I said before, you didn’t specify how I was to convince you to accept immortality, and this is one of my many ways. You’re bound by your contract conditions, Y/N. Unless you want to rescind your deal,” he drawled “in which case I’ll go up there and make you mine. Right now.”

I stopped walking in front of my bedroom’s door, staring down the flight of stairs to the front door like I could burn a hole through it with my gaze and strike Count Dracula. 

I’d once won an entire case in court because I gave an expert at the stand a death stare so powerful that they suddenly changed their opinion on the crime scene’s blood splatter pattern. Sadly, I’d tried that death stare with Dracula already and it hadn’t worked. Knowing him, he had probably taken it as flirting. He couldn’t see me right now but I still hoped he felt the burn of my stare.

“In short, you’re giving me no choice,” I muttered, marching around my room again because I was too wired to stay put.

“Quite the contrary, my darling. Denying our deal is still a fair choice if you have a sudden change of heart. As much as I would be disappointed if you gave up so easily–” he sighed dramatically “–I wouldn’t pass the opportunity to savour you as you so deserve.” The silent threat of desire in his tone made my pace falter and my hair to rise in its ends. “I’m not a total beast.”

My belly coiled in unwarranted need and I bit the insides of my cheeks in an attempt to ground myself. All it did was make my mind run wild with ideas of Dracula kissing me and piercing my lips with his fangs, tasting me, and slowly willing my blood into his mouth in excruciating passion as he–

“Mmm,” he made and another stab of desire attacked my body as I wondered if that’s how he would sound if I knelt before him. “I can smell your lust from here.” A chuckle. “Say the word and I’ll go up there.”

It would be easy to say yes, and easy shouldn’t be a word concerning the Count. Besides, I wasn’t a quitter.

“I’ll be down in a minute,” I bit out. 

Blowing out a breath, and with it some of my sanity, I ended the call. Next I grabbed my suitcase, backpack and threw the black garment bag containing my dress over my arm. Before I started descending the staircase, I took a moment to squash my sex drive. After much needed concentration, no intrusive thoughts remained but my body still felt like someone had set me ablaze. 

Count Dracula was waiting by his car when I opened my door. I took in his appearance before I started mouthing off at him. 

So far I’d only seen him in blazers and slacks but tonight he was sporting dark jeans and a leather jacket, and for a second I was so in shock that I forgot why I was mad at him. The jacket was one I was most used to seeing bikers wear – straight cut around his neck in a way that framed his chiseled jaw and simple details on the shoulders that faded before reaching his arms. And it fit him perfectly. 

The man was sophistication incarnate in his manners and way of dressing but somehow the leather didn’t look out of place on him. In fact, he looked… cool, which wasn’t a word I would ever thought of attributing to him. Chic with a touch of menace? Yes, but cool while slightly less threatening? Not at all.

“I’ll take your blank expression as admiration,” he said, rolling his shoulders and making the jacket accentuate muscles on his arms that I hadn’t had the opportunity of noticing before. 

“It is. Look at you… All modern-like.” I swept my gaze through him again, nodding. 

“I’m modern,” he protested as he walked towards me.

“Modern-er, if that exists. I’m not complaining but why the sudden change in style?” I gave him my suitcase when he extended a hand for it.

“A road trip calls for comfortable clothing. At least that hasn’t changed in the last century.”

Since I was exchanging an hour and a half train trip for the double of that in a car with him, I was more than thankful for choosing to wear a large sweater over leggings and trainers. As for Count Dracula, there was no denying he looked good in a leather jacket but I wasn’t sure if it could be considered comfortable. What would he have worn to his travels centuries ago? Fur and armour? That’s a sight I would be curious to see.

I followed Dracula to the BMW’s trunk when he opened it and frowned at the earthy scents that drifted to my nose. 

“Are you planning on gardening in Berkeley?”

He laughed as he pushed the wood box where the smell came from to the side and fit my suitcase next to his. 

“No. Just a little something I need to travel with, in order to rest properly when I’m away from my own home. My former home, that is.”

Former home; another way to say Wallachia, I supposed. I sniffed the air and prayed that by the end of the trip my clothes wouldn’t smell like Diana’s garden after she decided to plant new seeds.

“What’s inside the box, dirt?” I joked with a smirk. When Dracula nodded, my smirk vanished. “Are you serious?” Another nod as he shut the boot. “What? Why? Is it a vampire thing?”

“It’s very much a vampire thing. One you’ll have to learn to live with when I make you my bride.” 

Too stunned as I tried to mull that piece of information, the Count opened the door to the backseat and took my dress from me, carefully placing it on top of another garment bag. Next, he held the passenger’s door for me, gesturing for me to enter. Last time he opened a door for me, things got a little sidetracked, which reminded me of why I was mad at him. 

His mouth opened in a large grin as I strode over and anger flared up again.

“Keep in mind that I’m only accepting to travel with you because the other option, well, isn’t an option,” I told him.

“Oh, yes, of course. How preposterous,” he leaned closer, smile growing sardonic “you consenting to relentless nights of pleasure for the next hundreds of years at my side. We can’t have that, can we?”

How in the hell he managed to make his voice feel like a caress and a whip at the same time was beyond me, and I had no intention to find out. 

“No, we can’t have that,” I declared. “For the next hours, I expect you to keep your full attention on the road. Unlike you, I don’t have the luxury of surviving a car crash. So hands and legs to yourself at all times.” He chuckled at the emphasis, switching his weight on his feet so that his knee touched my thigh; I gritted my teeth and forced myself not to move. I’d rather die than let him know how much he got to me, then again, not dying was the entire point. “No funny business.”

“I don’t see it as business. It is incredibly fun watching you squirm, though.”

“Yeah, must be a riot.” I rolled my eyes. “Are we agreed? Oh, fangs, too.”

It was his turn to roll his eyes. 

“Sadly, yes.” He stepped aside, unblocking the way so I could enter.

Once inside, I looked up at him.

“You owe me 30 quid for the train ride.”

“Consider your dinner paid,” he said and shut the door.

I was still smiling, wondering what 30 pounds could buy in rural England – a feast, presumably – when Dracula entered the car, turned it on and started accelerating down the street, all in 5 seconds. Understanding dawned on me when he said we could make the trip in less than 3 hours. Vampire speed combined with a BMW obviously resulted in him developing a leadfoot.

“Oh, are you staying in Gloucester, too?” I asked as I hurriedly pulled on my seatbelt.

He glanced at the navigation system on the car’s dashboard that indicated our trajectory towards Gloucester and then at me. 

“Yes, in a hotel. I couldn’t find anything available in Berkeley.” He clicked the screen in the dashboard a few times and music started playing softly. Hungry Like The Wolf, of all things. “Whose wedding are we attending? I seem to recall from our last date that you don’t consider this person a friend.”

I blew out a breath.

“Evelyn Seymour. I work with her. She’s done some awful things to me when we were starting at the firm and I’ve said some pretty terrible things back at her. She would’ve found a way to get me fired if it wasn’t for Renfield intervening.”

“What did she do?”

“I thought you knew everything there was to know.”

“The important things, yes, they’re easy to make out from your blood. Her name rings a bell and I know that you hate her but that’s it.”

Even my blood didn’t consider Evelyn important? Sweet.

“Remember those girls you met the other day when you picked me up from my office?” I asked, and he nodded. “All of us interned together plus Evelyn. Oftentimes the interns were paired together to run errands for our bosses, such as running to the courts to file motions and request subpoenas, things like that. Renfield and Talbot, the partner who Evelyn responded to, felt that she and I had different enough profiles yet skilled in our own ways to learn from each other, so we did most of those things together. Quite the learning experience,” I scoffed. “Everything is a competition to Evelyn, so instead of helping each other, she saw this as an opportunity to get ahead and fuck me over in the process, especially because I was being regarded as one of the most promising attorneys in the firm’s future.”

“It didn’t work,” said Dracula. He looked at me. “Renfield told me that you’re in line for becoming a partner if he doesn’t get better, so whatever Evelyn did was worthless.”

Becoming a partner at a big firm was something that I’d dreamed of since I got my degree. Until not long ago it was something I thought about often and I expected to be happy if I ever received those news, however, to my surprise, I felt absolutely nothing when hearing those words come out of Count Dracula’s lips.

Maybe it wasn’t as important as I’d imagined. 

“Yes, she tried her damndest to hurt my career, though, and me. She even went so far once to accuse me of having an affair with a judge from a case I was working with Renfield. Claimed to have ‘photographic’ evidence and everything. The partners insisted I be investigated and Renfield managed to prove that it was all pure slander before the other partners took any decisive action towards me. I think the only reason Evelyn didn’t get fired for this was because the firm practically belongs to her family, but she still got suspended for a week. She’s stopped trying to get in my way since then but she never loses an opportunity to take a jab at me, be it an outfit she deems unfashionable or a case I lost.”

“Which is where I come in,” Dracula remarked.

“Yes, as much as I try to be the bigger person when she’s involved, I’m not above a tiny bit of retribution,” I chuckled and he smiled at me before turning his eyes back to the road. “What’s with the box of dirt? I’m curious.”

“Because I’m not in Wallachia anymore, I need to rest in soil from my own land,” he explained like it was perfectly logical.

“What happens if you don’t?”

He shrugged.

“I’d rather not find out.”

I frowned.

“Fairly inconvenient, isn’t it? Sleeping on the earth?”

“I don’t sleep in it. Not anymore. I just need it near me when I sleep.”

“But why?”

“It’s one of the rules of the beast,” he said, chuckling. 

I didn’t see how that was funny but he obviously knew something I didn’t. 

When he wasn’t looking at me, it was easy to watch him without feeling like I was doing something improper, so I decided to keep up the conversation.

“Did you travel a lot? Back in Wallachia?” 

I imitated how he said the word and he immediately opened a smile. I tried not to smile back at how delighted he seemed but he must’ve caught me trying to hide it because his smile grew into a full-fledged grin.

“Except when I was traveling to battle, I didn’t really travel as a ruler. It was dangerous to travel and leave my land unguarded. Afterwards, though, I traveled to most of Europe.”

“As a vampire?”

“Yes. But the world’s changed so much, now, I doubt I would recognise all the places I’ve been to.”

“Did you have a favourite?”

“Oh, yes. I spent an entire month in Moscow when I first went there in 1785, I think was the year. Unlike anything I’d ever seen... There was this cathedral there, just stunning. I had to force myself to go in there but I couldn’t leave without seeing what it looked like on the inside.”

“I think it’s pretty famous now. You’re talking about the one that’s all colourful and has crazy shapes, right?”

“That’s the one. We can go there once you're a vampire.”

“Stop saying it like that, it’s disconcerting.” I said, making him glance at me. “You still have to convince me and so far you’re not doing very well.”

He laughed and gooseflesh trailed my skin as if he had touched me.

“Somehow I doubt that but I’ll stop since you asked so nicely.”

I raised my eyebrows, unable to conceal my surprise.

“Well, if I had known it was that easy I would have asked you to leave me alone. But we both know that’s not happening.”

“Depends how nicely you ask me. I might be open to hear you pleading if you fall to your knees.” He gave me a grin that could only be described as naughty. 

I prayed that he couldn’t see me blush under the high-tech lights coming from the BMW’s dashboard but I was deluding myself by entertaining the idea. Not less than 20 minutes ago, I had thought about doing exactly what he had just proposed. I wasn’t telling him that, though.

“Ha-ha. You got jokes.” I said without any humour, fussing with my backpack as if it suddenly felt uncomfortable on my lap. Something popped into my head that made me put my questions about Moscow aside. “How did you come to be a vampire?”

“Ah, that’s not a story for travels.”

“Why not?”

“Because it’s not a good one.”

“Not everything is made up of good stories.” I shrugged. “I think you’re avoiding the question and I’ll let you slip this time but I’ll ask again some other time. You never know, maybe it’s something that can convince me, Count.”

“Maybe.”

For a moment there I’d forgotten that tomorrow I would have to carry out my plan with Zoe. I’d spoken to him as if we would have all the time in the world. And I almost wished that we would have more time, at least time for him to tell me about Moscow or Romania. Share with me all his experiences that I was curious about. We would spend hours talking freely about what he’d seen and how people changed, how history passed before his eyes; and how could he learn things from a person’s blood, and didn’t he miss discovering secrets by himself? How was his life when he ruled as a prince? And how did it differ from now after centuries had passed? 

With a jolt, I realised I felt a great need to know him down to the bone. Even the worst things about him, and the best, too. Perhaps that would cast a light into what made him so compelling to me or perhaps I just craved listening to him talk. Either way, exploring that was as dangerous as staring down the barrel of a loaded gun. 

As silence fell, music hailing from the 70s, 80s and 90s filled the car with melodies I knew well enough to hum along. Dracula surprised me by tapping his fingers on the wheel to the rhythm of INXS’s Need You Tonight; he even had a little Queen thrown in there which made me nod in approval. If he was trying to catch up with all the classics he had missed, then he was doing a good job of it. For over an hour stuck in London traffic, we talked about music and he let me connect my phone to his car to show him songs that perhaps weren’t iconic but just as good.

We’d gone from Queen to Billy Idol to Heart to Garbage and finally Nirvana. When I started yawning, Count Dracula changed Heart-Shaped Box for a piano version of Smells Like Teen Spirit. Reminding myself to congratulate him later, I allowed myself to close my eyes for a nap. 

I knew I was dreaming when the piano chords were replaced by the repetitive tone of a music box. 

The miniature ballerina spun slowly inside the box, forever trapped in dancing to the same old song. A song I knew but couldn’t decipher it on account of sounding distant and off-tune. As I watched, I wondered if she was happy but then laughed at what a silly thought that was. Why would the ballerina be happy? She was just a pretty toy, made precisely for the purpose of dancing in circles whenever someone opened the box. 

I closed the box but the song kept playing, now mixed with the cries of anguish of the ballerina, imprisoned in the haunting darkness of such a small space. My fingers struggled to open the box again, now afraid that I’d suffocated the ballerina but it wouldn’t open. In my battle, it fell to the ground and shattered as if it was made of glass instead of wood. The ballerina was nowhere to be found among the debris but blood pooled around the shards. More blood rose up from the floor as if I’d been standing in it the entire time and coated my bare feet, making me slip as I retreated from it. In my panic, I fell on my back and was quickly engulfed by a sea of blood. 

I started gulping large quantities of blood, smiling at the pleasant taste as I tried to keep myself from drowning. Suddenly, the sea was gone but I wasn’t breathing anymore.

There was something hard in my mouth and I gnawed at it, trying to find out what it was. Movement beneath made me draw back and I realised, horrified, that I’d been biting Count Dracula’s neck. Mocking laughter drowned all my other senses and I spit his blood from my mouth, noticing that it tasted the same as the sea of blood. I tried to scramble away but he held onto me, his fingers digging hard into my flesh during the struggle. 

“Shhh, shhh. Take me. Do it,” he urged. 

“Take what?!” I swatted at his hands, still trying to get away.

“All of me,” he responded, snatching my wrists in his grip to stop by blows.

“That’s impossible.”

“Don’t you want me to be yours as you are mine?”

His taste was still in my tongue and I frowned, knowing that was the only part of him I would ever possess.

My lips moved in the dream but I didn’t hear my answer. 

Whether it was yes or no, Dracula’s face transformed into a distorted version of his features. I watched in complacency, too fascinated by staring death in the face to get away. He buried his head in my neck and, as he started to drain me, I looked up at the reddened sky above us with the same ingenuous revere cherubs held in their gazes. 

I’m not sure what woke me up; the lack of movement from the car, Tori Amos singing about being crucified or Count Dracula’s voice sounding distant as he talked to someone that wasn’t me. Whatever it was, it wasn’t the dream. If I hadn’t been disturbed, I was certain I would have remained in that dream forever. Nothing significant could have pulled me from the peace I felt when Dracula bit me in the dream, yet there I was, awake and trying to understand why I was sitting alone inside the car parked outside a gas station. 

I quit fiddling with the car’s GPS to find out where we were when the Count’s words reached my ears.

“Because you’re not invited.” He laughed. “No, darling, I’m not neglecting you...” A pause. “Do that and I’ll bite you in a way you won’t enjoy. Stop being childish, Lucy, you know I don’t like it when you act this way.”

Trying to be as quiet as possible so he wouldn’t know I was awake, I slowly turned in the direction of his voice. Dracula had his back to me, a few metres away from the car, standing in the glow of blue neon lights coming from a convenience store. I hoped it was my fertile imagination playing tricks on me but I could swear I heard affection in his tone for a moment there. 

“Who I’m with doesn’t concern you,” he said into the phone, and this time there was only irritation in his voice. “Lucy, Lucy,” he laughed grimly. “This isn’t a relationship, and it never will be.” Another pause. “Yes, I still want you. I’ve got to go now. Goodbye.”

As he turned around, I got out of the car and stretched as if I had just woken up. 

“Oh, good, you’re awake,” he said upon laying eyes on me. “I bought you dinner, as promised.” He showed me a brown paper bag in his hand that I hadn’t noticed. 

“How did you know I was hungry?” As if on cue, my stomach growled. “Oh.” I blushed as I took the bag from him, peeking inside. “Oh! Pizza! Thanks.”

“I wanted to stop on the way so you could eat properly inside a restaurant but you slept more than I expected. If I’d waited for you to wake up, there wouldn’t be anything open so I stopped for fuel and went to get you food. I recognise it’s not the best–”

“No, I love pizza,” I cut him off. “Can I sit on top of your car to eat or are you becoming one of those guys who has a crush on his car?”

He answered me by sitting on the hood and patting the spot next to him.  The car must have been off for a while because the metal was cold on my butt when I took a seat.

“Where are we?” 

“Oxford,” he said. “An hour away from Gloucester, I think.”

I looked at the block we were in, searching for traces of the medieval architecture Oxford was so famous for but there was nothing special about it; we could just as well have been in London.

“What time is it?” I asked after finishing the first slice of pizza.

“Almost ten.”

“We made it all the way to Oxford in 40 minutes?” I raised my eyebrows and Dracula grinned, looking proud about that. “You can expect speeding fines in your mail during the next few weeks.”

He shrugged, apparently unbothered.

“Aren’t you going to ask me about her?”

I stopped reaching into the bag for another slice of pizza upon fully registering the implications of his question. He knew I’d been listening. Like he’d told Lucy, this wasn’t a relationship and he didn’t owe me an explanation any more than he owed her, but him bringing it up made it seem like I deserved one.

My dream from earlier flashed in mind. Freud only knew what the ballerina in the music box meant but I didn’t need a psychoanalyst to explain what it meant to bite Dracula in my subconscious.

My throat tightened as I thought about what I’d told Dracula in the dream, that it was impossible to have him. But I wanted to, I knew I did. I wanted this part of him, the part that knew I was bothered by him paying attention to someone else and cared enough to check on me, even if he wasn’t subtle about it. I wanted to believe it was the same part of him that had thought about taking me to V&A and broke into the Painted Hall because he’d seen how enthusiastic I was about it. The part of him that carried me to bed and laughed at me when I mumbled nonsensical phrases. 

I wanted something that wasn’t real. Something that I would never have because at this time tomorrow I would be injecting him with Zoe’s blood. And because it wasn’t real, I could play along for a little while.

“What’s to ask? It’s pretty obvious that you’re feeding from her.”

“Don’t play coy, Y/N, just ask me.”

“Fine. Are you fucking her?”

“No.”

I’d braced for a confirmation but his reply made my courtroom face fall apart. I scrutinised his face but nothing came to the surface.

“Really? It sounded a hell lot like you are.”

“I have fucked her but I haven’t made a habit out of it. Lucy is awfully… needy.”

It occurred to me that this was the first time I’d heard him swear and I had to purse my lips not to laugh like a nervous teen. Maybe it was the f-bomb that made me want to burst into laughter, or the sudden joy I’d felt when he called Lucy needy with obvious exasperation.

“Will you make her a vampire?” I continued since he was granting me the freedom to ask.

“Yes.”

“Does she want to be one?”

“Yes.”

“Did you have to convince her like you’re trying to do with me?”

“No.”

“Then why–” I exhaled “–do you still want me if you can have her?”

“Lucy is fun and wild and she wants to die but she doesn’t understand. You do.”

I frowned.

“Understand what?”

“What it takes to live forever.” He grinned but there was no humour in his eyes; I found a sliver of heat in his gaze, though. “Your pizza is getting cold.”

Dracula slid off the hood, like that was the end of the subject and I stalked after him, ignoring my pizza. He started rounding the car towards the driver’s side and I grabbed the back of his jacket to make him stop.

“What does that mean?” I questioned as he turned to look at me. This time his smile was slow, deepening the wrinkles around his eyes.

“The fact that you don’t know what I’m talking about only solidifies my beliefs about you.”

“Being cryptic isn’t helpful,” I snapped. 

“I’m not trying to be helpful.”

“Well, try!”

He took a step towards me and held my face in his hands. The shape of his lips distracted me and it took me a second to register his next words.

“From the start you’ve asked me for a reason to live forever. Don’t you think that means you value more than simply existing as you do now?”

“No. It’s just logical,” I countered, although I was suddenly frowning. “People don’t usually make big choices like this on impulse, you know? Of course I needed a reason.”

“Of course,” he repeated sarcastically.

“I don’t know what it takes to live forever!” I protested, flailing my arms.

I waited to see if he would contradict me but he just stared at me, eyes filled with mockery and confidence that served to further aggravate my mood.

“I barely know what it takes to live this life I’m living, how could I possibly fathom eternal life?” I continued, speaking so fast I could barely understand myself. I carried on when he didn’t reply, “Have I considered it since my deal with you? Of course I have, kinda hard not to but, but– I don’t know! I don’t know what I want! Or or or– how! How can I just give up everything and live forever? I’ve built things, things that I’m proud of, things that matter! And you want me to give them up! For you!”

Rambling wasn’t something I was used to and I forced myself to stop. Every word that came out of my mouth was usually carefully calculated to persuade a jury but this was my life and there was nobody to persuade, so why did it sound like I was trying to do just that?

“What matters in this life that could make me want to live forever?” My voice was so tiny that I scarcely heard my words. 

Suddenly I was literally swept off my feet and before I knew it, Dracula’s lips were on mine and I forgot all the things I was so confused about. 

My eyes shut into the kiss and my breath left me like my lungs had stopped working. Heart beating so fast I could feel it fluttering inside my chest, I wrapped my arms around him in senseless thought as our tongues met, sending sizzles all throughout my nerve endings. As soon as it had started, it was over, and I was standing with my feet on the ground again, body screaming in abandonment because Dracula’s hands weren’t touching me.

“What was that for?” I asked, trembling like I was cold.

“You were being emotional and looked like you were about to cry,” he said, stepping back from me and looking indifferent to what he’d just done as he ran his hands through his hair. “A kiss seemed like a good idea to stop that from happening.”

“That was a terrible idea.” 

“But it cleared your head,” he assured.

It did but it didn’t solve anything.

Looking at him suddenly became a challenge because I knew that at any second I could throw myself headfirst at this, despite the danger, despite feeling like I shouldn’t… All I wanted in that second was to not think and to drown in his kiss again. 

Instead, I turned my back on him and grabbed the brown bag from the car’s hood on my way to the passenger’s side.

“Let’s just go,” I told him, stealing one last glance at him. He was watching me with the same fascination he had when gazing at the Painted Hall but when I blinked, his face went back to that sarcastic mask he always wore. “We’re halfway to Gloucester.”

.

.

.

Taglist: @festering-queen​ @feralstare​ @apocalypsenowish​ @rheabalaur​ @thorin-smokin-shield​ @girlonfireice​ @deborahlazaroff​ @dreamer2381​ @a-dorky-book-keeper @mr-kisskiss-bangbang​ @saint-hardy​

[jalapeno-princess]

Case Closed

Lawyer Mark X Reader

Word Count: 9K (I got carried away with this one but I always get carried away when it comes to Mark)

Genre: Angst/Fluff with a hint of sexual themes

Summary: You’re a receptionist at a law firm and you’re currently attending law school in the hopes of becoming a criminal defense lawyer. Unfortunately, one of the lawyers at the law firm already seems to take a disliking to you during the hiring process and you have a hard time understanding why. Little do you know, the reason why Mark seems to hate you so much, is because he’s actually in love with you.

A/N: The idea of lawyer Mark is so hot wtf hahahaha thanks for the request @tuanhood​ I hope you enjoy!

“Thank you for calling James and Dean Law firm, this is y/n how may I be of assistance?” 

Being a receptionist at a law firm was not the ideal job you would’ve wanted after graduating from your university with your bachelor’s degree in criminal justice. However, you had just been accepted in to one of the top law schools in the country and you felt as if the best way you could learn a thing or two about how the law works, was by working alongside other lawyers. 

There were three lawyers that you were currently working for; Park Jinyoung who dealt with family law, Choi Youngjae who dabbled in both bankruptcy and personal injury law and Mark Tuan, a criminal lawyer. When you were first interviewed for the position, all three lawyers had prepared multiple questions for you to make sure you were the right candidate for the job. 

Both Jinyoung and Youngjae made it well aware that they liked you. They would not stop complimenting your bright and bubbly personality, how you’ve accomplished so much in the few years of your college career and how they felt like you had a great head on your shoulders. 

Unfortunately, Mark wasn’t as kind as his two other colleagues. He looked at you like you were the dirt under his expensive dress shoes. He also asked you questions that made you sit and think for a few minutes before actually answering them in fear of saying the wrong thing. 

Throughout the interview, you tried your best to put on a poker face and to make it seem like you were unbothered by the hostile way Mark was acting towards you. Even Youngjae and Jinyoung began to look at him in confusion with how rude and uptight he was being. Mark was an extremely kind and soft spoken kind of guy. That’s why a lot of people had a hard time understanding why he chose criminal law out of the many different types of law there were. However, when it came down to it, Mark was very passionate about his craft. He put in so much time, dedication and hard work in to every single case that he worked on and he wanted to make sure you’d be able to handle the work that you’d have to deal with if you ended up getting the job. 

He’s spent so many hours staying up, studying, reading and doing his research as both an undergrad and a grad student and worked extremely hard to get to where he was today. Law school wasn’t easy. In fact, out of his graduating class, only 8 of the 300 students actually became lawyers. Mark Tuan wanted nothing but the best, so he had to make sure Jinyoung and Youngjae were hiring you for all the right reasons and not just because you were personable and had a college degree. 

When you got the call a few days later that you were hired, as excited as you were, you couldn’t help but feel a little discouraged. You had yet to learn about your future employers, but you couldn’t help but feel as if Mark had already taken a disliking to you. Did you really want to work in a place where you were unwanted by one of the owners of the law firm? At the time, you could only hope that he was coming off as such an asshole in order to get you to take your job seriously. However, after working with the company for almost four months now, you came to learn that Mark Tuan was a selfish, narcissistic asshole who didn’t care about anyone but himself. 

Youngjae and Jinyoung were extremely down to earth people and very patient with you. They took the time to help you get settled in to your position and always offered to help you if and when you had any questions. Mark made it aware that he wanted nothing to do with you unless he really had to and you had a hard time understanding why he was so cold towards you. You saw the way he interacted with the two other lawyers. You didn’t think someone as cold and standoffish as him was capable of such an adorable, contagious and high pitched laugh. Even when his clients came in to see him, he was nothing short of a gentlemen. But when it came to you, he barely even acknowledged your presence. 

You were upset when you found out that he was in the field that you were planning to go in to. Out of all the types of law there were, why did he choose to go in to the one you wanted? You wanted to be able to work one on one with someone in your same field and be able to observe them as they did their job so you could get a taste of what being a criminal justice lawyer was like. But you know there was no way Mark would ever let you sit in on one of his meetings or even show you the ropes of criminal law.

Youngjae and Jinyoung were aware of the fact that you were going in to law and they offered to help you in any way that they could. They were also very kind and apologized to you for the way Mark would treat you, but you accepted it for what it was and got used to Mark’s harsh behavior. What bothered you the most, was that you couldn’t find it in yourself to hate him no matter how badly you wanted to. 

Something about his closed off and cold exterior attracted you. You wanted to know why he seemed to loathe you so much. Was it something you said? Did? You also despised the fact that you were physically attracted to him. Sure, Jinyoung and Youngjae were both extremely good looking and their kind and generous personalities made them look even more attractive than they already were. However, Mark was devastatingly good looking. He was a sight for sore eyes. 

You’d find yourself looking at him whenever he’d leave his office door open and if he came outside to greet one of his clients. He was also very muscular and built. His dress shirts practically clung to his biceps like a second skin and you’ve found yourself daydreaming about him taking out all his anger and hatred for you on you up against his desk on multiple occasions but you couldn’t think like that. This man despised you and treated you inhumanely. There was no way you’d allow yourself to develop feelings for him. He didn’t deserve respect, kindness or love from you since he could barely give that himself. 

As the days went by, you went back and forth between school and work and you were so overwhelmed by the amount of workload that you had. Jinyoung offered to cut down your hours but before you could accept his offer, Mark scoffed and rolled his eyes at you in disgust. 

“If she can’t handle such a small amount of work, what makes her think she’ll last a day being a lawyer? Might as well drop out now.” 

You attempted to hold back the tears from falling but you knew it was impossible. You were doing the best that you could in both your education and your work ethic. How dare he try and make you feel like you weren’t worthy of becoming a lawyer? You apologized to Jinyoung before storming out of the firm and making your way to your apartment. Since you left so abruptly, you failed to witness Jinyoung storm in to Mark’s office nor did you get to hear Jinyoung yelling at his colleague for the way he’s been treating you. 

“Y/n is the best receptionist we’ve had so far. She practically dedicates her life to her studies and to this job. She does everything we ask her to and then some. I’ve never heard her complain once about the stress that she’s under nor has she made any comments about how much of an asshole you’ve been to her. Every time you treat her so cruelly, she never fails to keep a smile on her face and respects you even if your bitch ass doesn’t deserve it. I know it bothers her and I’ve seen the smile fall from her face every time you belittle her and make her feel incompetent. You’ve never been this hostile to any of our other receptionists before, so what could y/n have possibly done for you to hate her so much?” 

She’s gotten me to fall in love with her. 

Since the day that you walked in to their law firm, with your silky, long hair, beautiful brown eyes, porcelain skin, the prettiest heart shape lips and a smile Mark was sure could cure cancer, he knew he was fucked. When he decided to become a lawyer, he felt as his he was sacrificing his entire social life by choosing such an elite career. He didn’t care about anyone or anything other than his profession and he wasn’t going to let anyone, especially someone like you for that matter get in the way of everything he’s worked so hard for. Your bright and extremely positive personality lit up the entire room and it took every bone in his body not to show you how much of an affect you were having on him. 

He knew it was wrong of him to be so mean to you and he hated being so rude to you when you were nothing but polite and gentle with him. Mark thought by being so cold to you, that his feelings for you would disappear and maybe you would hate how hostile he was being towards you and end up paying him no mind; making it easier for him to focus on his job. However, whenever he would lash out on you, you never failed to smile at him and continue to do your tasks like nothing was wrong. Mark didn’t think a perfect person existed, that was until he met you. 

You were everything Mark could want in a significant other and more. So much more. You were hardworking, headstrong, charismatic, fun-loving and a breath of fresh air. He’s witnessed how close you seemed to be with the two other lawyers and he wanted nothing more than to share the same bond with you that you did with them, but his pride and his ego wouldn’t allow him to. But if what Jinyoung said was true and that the way Mark had been treating you for the last few months actually bothered you, he knew something had to change or else their law firm would lose one of their best employees all because of him. 

After receiving an earful from Jinyoung for almost 20 minutes, he began to come up with ways to apologize to you. However, he didn’t want you finding out that he felt bad for the way he’s been acting towards you because he had feelings for you. No matter how much Mark wanted to admit his feelings for you, he couldn’t jeopardize his position and job title for something as unreasonable as a relationship. He also felt that you would consider his feelings to be a joke. How could he be in love with you if he was treating you so rudely?

There was no way you’d believe him if he told you, so he stuck with a simple apology. You didn’t come in to the office for two days and Mark knew he was the reason why. A part of him wanted to reach out to you and to call you, maybe even invite you out for some coffee but he didn’t want to make it known that he cared. 

When you finally returned back to work on Friday, you ignored Mark entirely. You didn’t greet him like you normally did, you avoided eye contact with him and whenever he tried to speak up, you would always try to divert the conversation. Now he understood how you must’ve felt and he hated himself for being the reason you were obviously unhappy. After contemplating his next moves, he decided to call you in to his office when he saw that both Youngjae and Jinyoung had left for the day. He thought you were gone too, but then he saw the light from the little lamp on your desk and took that as the sign to make things right between the two of you. 

When you heard the phone ringing and saw his caller id, you released a frustrated sigh and actually thought about letting the phone ring; but you knew it would make him even more upset with you so you found yourself answering it. 

“Is there something you need sir? I was just about to head home for the day.”

His stern yet raspy voice sent shivers down your spine and although you had negative feelings for him, you knew you’d do anything he’d ask you to. “Come to my office. We need to talk.” 

You could feel the nerves building up inside of you as you furrowed your brows. What exactly did he need to talk to you about? After releasing a few deep breaths, you slowly made your way in to his office. You have never been in to his office before. He never gave you the chance to. If he ever needed something, he’d come outside to you and although it was an unspoken rule, you knew not to go anywhere near his office. For some reason, it was the type of office you expected him to have. It suited him. He was obviously a neat freak unlike Jinyoung and Youngjae. All his books seemed to be in alphabetical order, there was nothing colorful in there but the birds of paradise plant sitting next to the window and he had a nice view of the cityscape.

You weren’t going to lie, he looked alluring. His tie was loose and a few of the buttons on his dress shirt were undone. His hair was also quite messy and it was obvious that he must’ve ran his fingers through it a few times during the day. You bit down on your bottom lip to prevent you from drooling. Why did someone who looked like an actual Greek god have the personality of a jerk?

“Have a seat.” His voice, for the first time since you’ve met him was gentle and soft. Where was the Mark Tuan you knew who hated your guts and who was this imposter? “I’d like to apologize for the way I’ve been acting towards you for the last few months. I’m not a bad guy y/n. I don’t know why I’ve been such an ass—well, I do. But it doesn’t matter. I just want to say I’m sorry, and that I’ll try to work on my attitude. That is all. You’re free to go.” 

You scoffed in disbelief. Out of the three lawyers, Mark had you do the most work. For someone who treated you like shit and like you were incapable of multitasking and completing all the work that they would give you, he expected quite a lot from you. This was the apology that you were receiving? How pathetic. It was extremely half assed and you had a feeling he wasn’t being genuine. When Mark noticed your now frustrated expression, he looked at you in confusion. 

“What? Why are you looking at me like that?”

“Really? You think that your pathetic excuse of an apology is going to be enough to replace the mental and verbal abuse you’ve put me through in the last few months? If so, you have another thing coming for you. I’ve done every single thing you’ve asked me to. No matter how hard the task was and no matter how unreasonable the request was. I don’t know what I did for you to hate me so much, especially since I’ve been nothing but nice to you but I’m sorry. For whatever it was that I did. But I won’t apologize for working my ass off to impress you and to be the best employee that I can be. I actually looked up to you. You’re one of the best criminal lawyers in this industry. I work my ass off at school and when I’m working here just so I could be even half of an amazing lawyer as you. I see how determined you are when you plan out your cases and how much time and effort you put in to looking for evidence to support your client and I find it very admirable.” You released a quick breath before continuing. 

“But you’re one of the biggest assholes I’ve ever met. How can you belittle and discourage someone who has the same dream as you? Where is the logic in that huh? I used to question my worth because of you. I used to stay up some nights and cry over the thought of not being adequate enough to become a lawyer because of what you said. You want to know something Mark? I’m not incompetent or any less of a hard worker than you are. I’m one of the most hardworking and determined people in this damn field and you know what else? You can take your apology and shove it up your ass because I don’t need it. I quit.” 

He didn’t know that someone as kind, friendly and full of life was capable of such disgust and anger. But he couldn’t blame you. Anyone in their right minds would’ve quit the minute he treated them the way he treated you. Although it was obvious you were fuming from his lack of words and emotion, he found your attitude to be very hot and extremely sexy. He didn’t care anymore, he was willing to give up his pride if it meant being the lucky man who gets to love you.

Before you could walk out the door, he beat you to it and slammed the door shut. “I’m sorry, what did you say? Take my apology and shove it where?”

He had you trapped in between his hands on either side of your face. He lowered his lips to your ear and chuckled softly against it causing the hairs on the back of your neck to rise at the sensation. “If I’m going to shove anything anywhere, it’s my cock down your tight little throat. You understand me?” 

Your eyes widened at his words and you attempted to push at his chest in order for him to get off of you although you wanted the complete opposite. He didn’t deserve your feelings and you weren’t going to allow him to take advantage of you no matter how badly you wanted him to. 

“Let’s see how good of a criminal lawyer you would be shall we? If a wife murders her husband as an act of self defense but there isn’t enough evidence to prove that this murder was an act of self defense and not preemptive, would the court find her guilty or not guilty? And on what grounds?” You couldn’t believe that he changed the subject so quickly and you couldn’t find it in yourself to respond. Your mind was clouded with what he just said about face fucking you and it seemed to be the only thing you could think about. 

“Hmmmm, too much? Okay, how about this one. A driver is going 40 miles over the speed limit in order to get his pregnant wife to the hospital. Should the judge let him go because he has his obvious reasons for speeding? Or does he go to jail for breaking the law?” As he continued to ask you questions, one of his hands made their way down to your waist as the other one slipped inside the back of your blouse. His fingertips were cold against your skin and it sent a bolt of electricity through your veins. 

“Unlike a court, I would definitely order specific performance of a contract for service. Especially if it were oral. Hmmmm, someone’s being awfully quiet. Should I give you a reason to be loud baby?” Was this all really happening right now? What was going on? You had to be dreaming. “Y/n.” He brought his fingers up to your face and tilted your head so that you were making eye contact with him. 

“You drive me insane you know that? Completely mad. I’m genuinely sorry for how I’ve been treating you and I know it’s no excuse, but it was because I was afraid of falling in love and I’m no longer ashamed to admit that my biggest fear came true. You might have a hard time believing it, especially because my actions and words said otherwise, but I am head over heels in love with you. Ever since you walked in here that day with your head held high and a huge smile on your face, I couldn’t keep my eyes nor my mind off of you. I’ve never felt this way about anyone before. I’m sorry for being such an asshole to you before even getting to know you. I just thought it’d be easier for me to stay away from you if I continued to be a prick and get you to hate me anyways but no. You never let my bad attitude get in the way of being the hardworking and extremely talented person that you are. I’m sorry if I ever discouraged you or made you feel any less special that you actually are. You are an ethereal being y/n. Whenever I look at you, I see myself when I was a fresh out of college undergraduate with dreams of opening my own law firm.” 

He smiled softly to himself when he felt you relax under his touch and lowered both of his hands to your hips. “You’re one of the most positive, energetic and diligent people I’ve ever met. I see how passionate you are about becoming a lawyer and the light in your eyes never fails to make my heart flutter. You never cease to amaze me y/n. If it’s any consolation, I’m sure you’re going to become a wonderful lawyer. I think you’re wonderful. You’re the most beautiful girl I’ve ever met on the inside and out. I think I was so mean to you because I could never get you off of my mind. I lose my sanity whenever I’m around you. I can’t think straight when I see you in these tight pencil skirts and sheer blouses that leave little to the imagination. I’ve been slacking on a lot of these cases because all I can think about is you. I understand if you hate me and think I’m a terrible person. I am. And you have every right to have negative feelings about me. If you don’t feel the same about me, we can forget that this whole conversation happened and I’ll forget about everything that you said. But I’d do anything to repay you for all that you’ve done for me and to earn your forgiveness for all the wrong I’ve done to you. If you want to start over, we can do that too. And you don’t have to make the decision now. I know it will take some time for you to forgive me and to trust me, but I’ll wait for you for as long as you need me to.” 

You looked up at him and you knew by the look in his eyes that he meant every single word that he said. There were so many thoughts going on in your mind about his feelings for you and you weren’t to sure how to respond to all of that. You had a hard time processing the fact that he loved you. How could he treat you so harshly if he loved you? Even if he didn’t want to give up his beliefs of making his job his main priority, why did he have to be so cold towards you? It wasn’t like you’d allow him to give up on everything he’s achieved so far. If anything, you’d be of more help and support to him if he gave you the chance to. 

A part of you wanted to go home and give yourself some time to think before making a decision you’d regret down the line. However, with the way he was looking at you with so much love and admiration in his eyes, you knew he was worth forgiving and risking it all for. Once he saw you nod in agreement, he didn’t give you time to do anything else before connecting your lips together. As much as Mark could irritate you sometimes, you always found yourself wanting to know how it felt like to kiss him and now that you knew, you would never get enough. 

His hands began toying with your blouse as he continued attacking your lips with his. You knew exactly what he had planned for the two of you and you had no plans on stopping him. 

“Mark—“ he grunted against your chest. 

“Yes baby?” You smiled in to the kiss before pulling away to take a good look at him. You brought your fingers up to his hair and playfully ruffled it before taking his bottom lip in between your teeth. 

“Say it again.” 

“Say what?” You gave him the most adorable frown and he snickered at you, knowing exactly what you were referring to. “You haven’t even said it yet.” You crossed your arms in frustration. 

“I think after all these months of putting up with your hostility, I deserve—“ the trace of wet kisses against the juncture of your neck broke you out of your complaint. 

“I—love—you. I’m so fucking in love with you. You’re mine y/n.” You moaned against his chest and the sound went straight to his hardened and extremely painful cock. 

“I love you too—you prick.” He giggled softly before picking you up and bringing you towards his desk. 

“Can I be honest with you? I’ve dreamt about you taking me up against this table on multiple occasions. I’ve always wanted you to take your anger out on me while fucking in to me at a rough pace.” He clenched his jaw at the idea and cupped your cheek with his hand. 

“Trust me baby, there were many naughty scenarios that go on in my head every time I saw you bend over with this beautiful ass of yours on display. Fuck, I can’t process the fact that you’re finally mine. I’ll take good care of you baby, I promise. Now, I believe that it's in our best interest to comply with section 69 of the act. Shall we?”

[mirkwoodshewolf]

My life, The Doctor; 10th Doctor x Nurse!reader

*Author’s note*

Hey guys I know it’s been awhile but I finally decided to work on another story outside the Queen/BoRhap fandom. Now this request came from @originalposter96 idk if this is your user name anymore but I hope you’ll be able to see it.

NOW WARNING HERE I AM NOT A DOCTOR OR A NURSE!!! So I know absolutely NOTHING about surgeries or anything like that, so this may seem as lazy writing (sorry) but I hope you all still enjoy this fic. So since this does involve the reader being a Nurse there is a hospital involved, surgeries, blood, removing bullets, gunshots, and a slight trigger warning for Domestic violence (not between the Doctor and reader just some side characters).

Taglist:

@plethora-of-things​

@waddles03​

@psychosupernatural​

@dancingcoolcat​

@jd-johndeacon-or-jackdaniels​

@ixchel-9275​

__________________________________________________________

There have been many wonderous places I’ve been to, many wonderful people and creatures I’ve met.  They all come and go in my life, whether through my adventures or by time itself all beings enter my life one way or another.  But throughout all my previous lives, every single being in the Universe that I had ever known, one person was above and beyond special.

Her name was (Y/n) (L/n).  And she—is and will always be the love of my life.

For a human she was extremely clever, sharp as a whip, but she was also kind, loyal, and the one thing about her is that she never gives up on anyone.  As a Head nurse—oh did I forget to mention that? Yes my (y/n) is one of the best Nurses in all of England.  

Anyone in her time or even in the future when she finally becomes an M.D. will tell you that she is one of the best.  In fact she finds out future cures for worldwide pandemics (of course sometimes her board would deny her research and billions of people perish. Rotten bastards).  Anyways, my (y/n) truly is one of a kind amongst the humans and I am glad to have met her.

And won’t she be surprised when she sees me.  It had been awhile since I had last seen her (maybe since the day she graduated medical school just a year ago her time) and now with the Cybermen and Daleks taken care of, now’s a good a time to go see her.

I set the coordinates for her time period and flipped the switch allowing the TARDIS to activate and soon going through time and space.

*My POV*

April 14th, 2015, 10:05pm.  It had been a long day.  5 surgeries, 3 MRI scans, a cancer treatment report, and 2 women in labor later, I was just about to drop right there on the floor.  I was thankful that in like 20min. my shift was gonna be over.

“You look like you’re about to drop dead right on the spot.” I snapped out of my sleepy stage to see my good friend Chrissie Lang.  She and I had graduated from the same Med school together, and had most of the same classes together.  She and I are each other’s support system cause in this line or work—it can take a toll on you.

I remember this one time this woman came in at 6 months pregnant bleeding profusely from her legs.  We both knew that she was suffering a miscarriage so we told to do what her Doctor told us to do, but by the end of it Chrissie was completely destroyed. She always wanted to be a mum and seeing something like that happen made her fearful for even trying to go for a baby with her and her boyfriend.

So for the next ten minutes after helping the woman out, Chrissie and I just held onto each other and shed our tears before we had to brush it off and move onto the next case we had.  For those that say being a Doctor or a Nurse is the easiest job to do, they’re liars. The job can hit you not just physically, but mentally as well.

“After 2 days of not sleeping, I just might. Put on my tombstone (Y/n) (l/n). Died with a heart of gold and a stomach of caffeine.”

“That’s true cause I swear girl, you’re probably the most caffeine addicted person I’ve ever met.”

“I can stop whenever I want, these are just choices.” We both chuckled softly.

“Excuse me ladies, but would you mind helping me with something?” a familiar voice said to me.  We both turned to our right and standing there with a bouquet of my favorite color of carnations was the Doctor.

“Of course, what can we do for you sir?” asked Chrissie.

“Hey Chris, why don’t you let me handle this?” I suggested.

“You sure?”

“Yeah, besides you’re about to clock out sooner than me, you go on and head home. I’ll meet you there.”

“Okay, see you later (n/n).” she bid the Doctor good evening and he did the same. Once Chrissie left the lobby, I turned towards the Doctor smiling widely as he did the same.

I immediately embraced him and he picked me up and twirled me around, the two of us laughing together.

“Oh I swear every time I come back, you get more beautiful.” He said as he set me down.

“I’m just happy you got to come back at all.” I said as I cupped his face in my hands. His eyes grew soft as he placed his hands over mine.

“I know what I do is dangerous, but you know why I do what I do.” I nodded in understandment.

“I mean hell it wouldn’t be any different if you were human and worked as a police officer or a fireman. Hell we humans live in a dangerous world, anything could kill us.”

“Which is what makes me the Doctor.”

“It does indeed.” I stroked his cheek with my thumb and that’s when he reached for the bouquet he had set down on the front desk and he presented it to me. “You always know just how to cheer me up.”

“Figured you might’ve had a long, rough day. Thought a little color could be used to brighten up your day.”

“It sure did, thank you my love.”

“Anything for you my life.”

That was a thing between us.  When we first started dating each other, we had a little code/nickname for each other. I call the Doctor ‘my love’ because ever since he literally dropped from the sky onto my doorstep, he’s unlike anyone I’ve ever met.

He’s quirky, bit of a goofball, can sometimes blow his top but that’s only when something really dangerous happens and he’s under stress (yeah I’ve traveled with him a couple of times during my time at Med school), but he’s also loyal, brave, beyond clever, and he always puts everyone else, especially the human race above himself.  For the last of his species, he’s an incredibly selfless person.

He calls me ‘his life’ because whenever things get too hard for him, since he and I have been through some rough stuff due to our day to day life, I always try my best to comfort him.  I know that he’s lost people, just like I have on a job, and it’s not an easy thing to get pass.

So we both try to be each other’s support system.  We know there is always loss in the world, but the thing is to not let that be the driving point that always controls your life.  You can use it to make you stronger, not let it drag you down any further.

“So how has my brave Dr. (L/n) been since I last saw her?”

“You know I’m not a Doctor yet, I still gotta go through the nursing program and then rise up in the ranks before I finally get it.”

“Oh rubbish, you should’ve been a Doctor right as you graduated.”

“Yeah well not according to the chief here.” I muttered annoyedly.

“Honestly though, that old fool wouldn’t know a good doctor if it turned around and bit him in the arse.” I shushed him but couldn’t help myself from giggling softly.

“You can be so cruel sometimes you know that?” he playfully shrugged.

“Only when it comes to people who hurt you.” he wrapped his arms around me and pecked my cheek. “How much longer till your shift ends?” I turned to the clock and responded.

“10 minutes. But…..I could clock out a little early since there hasn’t been a call.”

“Playing hooky ehh? You cheeky little minx.” He grinned like the Cheshire cat. As we leaned closer to each other about to kiss, the doors suddenly burst open and a frantic voice called out.

“HELP! HELP! MY BROTHER NEEDS HELP! HELP!” a blonde woman around her mid 30’s came in holding her brother who looked to be around the same age as her.  Quite possible they might’ve been twins cause I could see some similarities on the both of them.  Her brother was completely covered in blood and his lips were blue from blood loss.

“Okay Miss calm down. I NEED A STRECHER STAT!!” soon enough the nurses who were still here for the nightshift ran off as I walked towards the two siblings. “What happened?”

“My ex-boyfriend jumped us. He thought—he thought my brother was a new boyfriend of mine and he—he—oh god this is my f-fault!”

“No, no, no Miss this is not your fault.” As I tried to calm her down, the stretcher bed soon came in and a group of nurses helped the man on his back and began cutting away his shirt.

“I’m seeing 3 bullet wounds to the chest and one on his abdomen. Let’s move him!” I get onto the top right of him as we wheel him into the OR to save his life while another nurse stayed behind with the sister to calm her down.

I washed my hands and arms frantically and thoroughly before getting my shrubs and mask on.  Already the destine nurses, assistants and now our head Doctor, Dr. Murphy came in and he said.

“What have we got?”

“Four shots in the upper body, two in the lower. He might’ve lost a pint of blood at least.” Answered Nurse Yasmin.

“Maybe 2-3. His BP is dropping fast.” Added one of the male Nurses, Derek.

“Okay, any of those bullets rupture an organ?” asked Dr. Murphy.

“The one in his lower abdomen is just a centimeter before hitting his small intestine. If we don’t get that bullet out first he could bleed out internally.”

“Okay keep an eye on his BP. I need fluids, scalpels, suction tubs, retractors……”

“Lucy….”the man groaned out.

“(L/n), do your thing.” Said Dr. Murphy.  I nodded and came up to the man and said.

“Sir? Sir can you hear me?”

“Yes. Where—where am I?”

“You’re at the hospital. Your sister brought you in. Don’t worry she’s okay and told us what happened.”

“Good….good……She’s safe. I—I’d never forgive myself if—” he started fading out.

“Hey, hey, hey sir, sir stay with me now. What’s your name? Can you tell me your name?”

“Barry.”

“Okay Barry, I’m (Y/n) (l/n). My team and I are gonna help you but you need to stay with me for just a bit. Don’t give up on me.”

“It hurts….it hurts so badly.”

“I know, I know.”

“Give him a shot of morphine to numb the pain.” Dr. Murphy ordered.  Suzie got the morphine bag and needle ready and slowly stuck the needle into his left arm.  Barry hissed and I said to him.

“This’ll help lessen the pain. You won’t feel the pain as we try to get the bullets out of you Barry. But you gotta stay with me, okay?”

“I’ll—try……” he mumbled tiredly.  I placed my hand on his cheek and looked up at his vitals and saw his BP was continuing to drop and his heartbeat was going down.

As I looked around me, frantically Dr. Murphy and all the nurses were working together trying to get all the bullets out of him one by one, less we risk him bleeding out as two teams tried to work out a single bullet.  With the main one near his intestines cleared, Dr. Murphy and Nurse Helen worked on getting the few out of his upper chest.

All the while Barry kept groaning every now and then and his eyes were fading fast.

“Barry. Barry hey look at me boy. If you can’t do this for yourself, do it for your sister. From what she said about who had done this to you, you need to stay alive for her. What you did was heroic, but don’t let her see that that selfish son of a bitch won. She needs you, your family needs you.”

“I got the blood transfusion he now needs. Thankfully, we had our last bag of B+ in the storage bin.” A young male nurse who had only worked here for a year, Cody exclaimed as he came through the doors.

“Alright, start the transfusion now! We just got the last bullet out and his BP is dropping faster and faster!”

“You hear me Barry? We’re getting you your life back. But it’s gonna be up to you now. Don’t let him be the victor, not tonight! You hear me?” he groaned and looked right up at me and he whispered groggily to me.

“Why do you care so much?” I took a deep breath in and said as I stroked the hair from his face.

“Because so many people everywhere are already dying every day. Some because time has run out on them, others for serving their country, but there are the odds of people dying for now reason whatsoever. Or for stupid reasons that shouldn’t be a reason why someone should have to die, especially if it’s protecting their family member from some arsehole who can’t tell the meaning of the word No. Now your sister is out there waiting for you, if she loses you, she’ll have lost her Ace. Her only friend that has stuck by her through whatever it was that her ex-boyfriend did to her.”

“He…..always was a……selfish prick!” he coughed out.

“I’ll bet he was. But she survived him, and now you’ve got to survive too. Don’t give him that satisfaction that he took a life tonight. Can you do that for me?” he nodded softly and whispered out again.

“You’d make a great motivational speaker.”

“I was on the debate team back in secondary school. If you wanna hear more, you’ll just have to stick around Earth for a little while longer.” After his final stitches were in place, the blood transfusion began and it was then Dr. Murphy had Cody, Darren, and Helen wheel him into ICU.  From there, Barry would be monitored 24/7 till he woke up from his post-surgery coma.

Dr. Murphy took off his mask and gloves before turning to me and he said to me.

“Nice job keeping him talking.”

“Just doing my job sir.”

*Doctor’s POV*

Unaware to anyone else, I had snuck into the upper levels to witness the surgery in progress.  I watched as (y/n) stayed right by the young man’s side and kept giving him encouragement to stay alive.  But not for himself, for his sister.

This. Is why she would one day go down in the medical books as the world’s greatest Female doctor’s.  She always put the lives of the people her patient’s love over their own, then psychologically, the patient’s bodies would continue to fight on until finally they would find the strength to recover.

Of course she will have her failures cause that’s life.  You can’t save everyone but you can work harder at saving the ones you can save in the future.  She doesn’t let one failure get her down, that’s sometimes the curse of being a Doctor. When you lose people, it can really affect you. Even when those closest to you are the ones you lose.  Believe me I’ve been there millions of times throughout my 10 life cycles (she’s lucky she’ll only deal with one).

By morning, the lad Barry managed to make a full recovery.  His sister, Lucy repeatedly thanked all the doctors and nurses who helped out with saving her brother before giving her statement to the police.

I waited outside by the TARDIS for my beloved Doctor to clock out, and when she finally came out the poor dear looked exhausted.  I extended my arms out for her and she gave me a tired smile before collapsing into my arms.

“Just when I thought I could get at least one early night in.” her voice muffled against my trench coat but I still managed to hear her.  I softly laughed and rocked her gently as I assured her.

“I know, but hey if you hadn’t been here, that young man would’ve died.”

“Oh you know it was Dr. Murphy as well as a few other nurses that actually did the real operation to save him.”

“True, but you were just as important if not more. You kept him awake and talking.” I shrugged tiredly agree-to-disagreeing. “Now then, I think after a night like that, and from lack of sleep these past couple of days you deserve to be pampered and see the wonders of the galaxy.”

“How did you—”

“Besides the bags under your eyes, I’ve seen the amount of Starbucks cups at your apartment.” She groaned embarrassingly.  God this girl and her coffee addiction, truthfully I never understood why humans choose that as their beverage of choice.  I myself prefer a good Earl grey or even sometimes Jasmine tea but ugh that horrible bland stuff they call coffee?! Never. Again. Will that drink touch my taste buds.

“Care to show me the wonders of time and space?”

“Need a pick me up boost?” she nodded.  I kicked open the doors of the TARDIS and hopped inside before extending my hand out to her saying, “First question is though; do you trust me?”

“Always my love.” She replied with that loving soft smile of hers as she took my hand.

“Then brace yourself my life, because I’m going to show you the sound of the Universe.”

“You mean…..”

“Indeed I do my love, the Music of the Spheres.” Her smile grew wider and I pulled her into the TARDIS before shutting the doors behind her and together the two of us ran towards the consoles of the TARDIS and I punched in the coordinates and soon we took off for the Music of the Spheres.

And who knows where our next adventure would lead after that? So long as I got my love, my life, my Doctor with me by my side.

[the-american-witch]

Strength In Numbers

Originally a prompt from @supernaturalimagine: Imagine being a hunter with TFW and getting diagnosed with cancer, so the boys help you through everything

Word Count: 1802

Warnings: Cancer, awkward hugs, angst, mentions of medical testing including blood, alcohol as a coping mechanism

A/N: This became a truly self indulgent piece, I wrote this while nearing my own five year anniversary of beating cancer and I thought (and still think to this day) “What if it came back?”

The day you hoped would never happen and dreaded has finally come. It was supposed to be so simple. Go in. Draw some blood. Get the results and OK from the doc. Leave and be on your merry way. There weren’t supposed to be any extra tests. No CAT-scans. No ultrasounds. Not this. Please, God, not this. You were supposed to die on a hunt. Maybe by demon or eaten by a werewolf or hexed by a witch. Not something as ordinary and mundane and everyday as this.

You got back to the bunker as quietly as possible and went to the dining room. You got a pie fresh from the bakery downtown, some pizza, and five bottles of the grocery store’s most expensive whiskey. You didn’t know how your boys would react but you planned on drinking at least two bottles yourself.

You figured the two Winchesters were either in their rooms or the library. Cas, you hoped, would  come when you prayed to him. You opened the first pizza box, a meat lovers, and within 20 seconds flat Dean and Sam came and started chomping on the slices like the gigantors they are. Dean let out an indecent moan making you roll your eyes as you picked up your own slice.

The older Winchester eyed the pie. “Pizza and pie? Holy shit, y/n. I could kiss you!”

You wrinkled your nose. “Not with your mouth full of pizza mush you won’t!” You all talked about the current case they were working on. Possibly a ghost in a town a couple states over. You offered to help anyway you could, even if it was playing “sympathetic stranger” to the vics’ loved ones.

After a while you set out four tumblers and filled them while silently praying to Cas.

“Hello, Y/n. You called?” asked Cas.

“Hiya, Cas.” You greeted warmly. “Just wanted to know if you wanted to eat and drink with us. Even got the hamburger pizza you like.” wagging your brows. Cas squinted at you and for a second you worried that he had you figured out. After a moment though he sat down and ate the pizza quietly.

The four of you ate and drank and after about a half hour you felt the tell-tale sign of the warmth spreading through your body. You poured even more in your glass, emptying it and placing it on the ground and replacing it with another. You thought you saw Sam and Dean give each other a look at that, but you were too consumed in trying to figure out how to tell them to care.

You looked up from your glass and smiled a bit too brightly. “Who wants pie? I could go for some pie.” That time you see that all of your boys shared a look. There was no denying it.

Sam was the first one to break the silence. “Um, not that we don’t appreciate all of... this,” he started, gesturing towards the pizza, whiskey, and pie, “but, um, what’s all this about?” At your (faux) confused look he stumbled over his words trying to elaborate. “It just seems a bit...”

“Over the top,” supplied Dean, taking a drink.

 Sam nodded in agreement. “Yeah...over the top. We just want to know everything’s okay.” The other two nodded in assent.

You looked at your boys. Your family. You drank the rest of your whiskey in one go, creating a grounding burning sensation in your throat.

“Uh, there is something I need to tell you.” Immediately they tensed up and you rushed to soothe them. “Don’t worry it’s not anything supernatural or anything. Definitely not any kind of monster or demon or ghost or anything.” You let out a bitter laugh and poured more alcohol. “Definitely not.”

You watched Dean furrow and unfurrow his brows as he thought over those words.

But it was Cas who asked, “then, what is it you need to announce that would require so much alcohol?”

You laughed a bit too loud, making everyone in the room, even Cas, cringe. “Um, remember just after we met, we were swapping hunting stories...you saw the scar on my chest and asked about it, and I told you it was from a surgery and left it at that?” The boys nodded. “Obviously that’s not the whole story so.”

“Then what is?” you weren’t looking but you could feel Sam staring at you as he asked that.

“It’s where they put in the device they needed to inject my chemo. I am--I was a cancer survivor.” Met with silence you charged on with your oh-so-tragic-backstory. “Just before my freshman year of high school, I was diagnosed with Leukemia. Because of the type, all I needed was chemo. Hence the device. I’ve been in remission since I was sixteen, and I even made the five-year mark so yay me! Right? They say once you make it past the five year mark you’re basically cured right?” You drank even more and refilled their glasses before replacing the empty bottle for another. You felt a burning in your eyes and throat and you knew it wasn’t from the whiskey. Well, at least not completely.

“I went to the doctor today. Even after the five year mark they wanna check over you every so often. Make sure everything’s all peachy ya know? They got the blood work back and, uh,” you coughed out a laugh, desperately trying to hold back tears, “they found some numbers in the labs. Of course by then I already knew what it was. But they had to do everything by the book. So they did the tests. In the exact same order too. It was like being a scared little teenager all over again,” you stated, the first tear falling.

You heard a shuffle of movement, and felt a bunch of arms wrapping around you. “Um, it seems that, uh, apparently I r-relapsed.” You choked on the last word and started sobbing. “I was in treatment for over two years. I was, was doing so well. I-I’ve been cl-clean so long. After f-f-five years it’s supposed to be like imposs-impossible to relapse!” you cried out between sobs. “It’s not fair!” After that you laid your arms on the table, your head on your arms. Crying so hard you couldn’t speak anymore.

You felt a hand stroke your hair away from the table. Another rubbed circles on your back and two more grabbed your hands. Stroking the back with the pads of the thumbs. You guessed by the jerky movement hand on your back it was Cas’. The hands holding yours weren’t as calloused as Dean’s, making them Sam’s. Meaning that the oldest Winchester was the one stroking your hair, resting his cheek on your head. Of all the ways you imagined having hands everywhere on you...this was not fucking it.

How long you cried you didn’t know, but you did eventually slow down a bit. They continued to comfort you the whole time.

Once it was mostly sniffles and shaky breaths from you, you heard Dean softly ask Cas, “Can’t you do anything? Can’t you cure her?”

You knew it was a long shot, and weren’t even surprised when he murmured, “No. It’s beyond my powers to cure someone of an illness of the body’s own making.”

Dean raised his voice just a bit, but obviously trying to be soft for your sake. “But what about when Zach gave Sam cancer and then took it back?” You had no idea what Dean’s talking about so you assumed this was before you joined them.

“Like you said, it was Zachariah who gave it to Sam, so he was able to get rid of it. Besides, Zachariah was higher in rank than I was. Had more power. Sam’s was artificial. Y/n’s cancer is from her own body. No outside influences. Only an archangel or God himself could do what you’re asking.”

You raised your head a bit, just enough to state, “I did it the last time without God or the others. I can do it this time without them too.” You looked at your hands, still enclosed in Sam’s. “I don’t need God, I just need my family. Even if from afar.” You added on with a weak and watery smile.

Sam gave you a confused look. “‘Afar’? Why--? You don’t see us sticking with you through this?”

“...I’ll be in a hospital. With cops, Sam. With a shit load of security cameras.” Your voice gained some strength. “Not to mention I’ll have to give my real information. DOB, SSN, I’ll be on the grid again. You might be recognized and you can’t risk it. I can’t let you risk it. Not for this. Not for me.” You stated firmly.

You felt a puff of air against your head, and twisted to look up at Dean who was rolling his eyes. Cas looked remorseful, whether it was because of what was happening or because he couldn’t do anything about it you weren’t sure.

You raised an eyebrow at Dean, silently asking what that was about to which he responds, 

“C’mon Y/n. Do you really think that something small like security cameras is enough to scare us off? Since when do we run from them?”

You shook your head in exasperation. “Dean, this isn’t a laughing matter. I don’t want to be the reason you’re finally caught and sent to jail. I can’t have that on my conscience. I can’t be the reason you guys are locked up with who knows how many monsters and demons are roaming the world. I can’t-”

“Whoa, whoa, whoa.” Dean ceased your rant by turning your chair and placing his hands on your shoulders. “First of all, we’re with you no matter what, so whether you like it or not, you’re stuck with us and we’re not leaving you. Second of all, you know we know how to avoid things like cameras and how to ditch the cops. You’re not doing this on your own, we won’t let you.”

“Won’t let me? What like I won’t let you risk it all for me?”

“Yeah, sweetheart, exactly like that.”

You sighed, looking up and tried to blink back more tears that you already felt coming. “...I don’t get a say in this, do I?”

This time Sam scoffed and you briefly wondered if you should be offended they seem to be rapidly making disparaging you a past time. “Not a chance. Dean’s right, you’re right. You weren’t alone last time and you’re sure as hell not going to be alone this time. We’re with you, y/n.”

You sniffled and looked at each one of your boys. Look each of them in the eye and say, “Thank you.”