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dangerousstrawberryshark · 3 years

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Just Accept it! (READ THE DAMN DISCLAIMER!)

A/N: Hello, my 🍓Little Strawberries🍓! I'm back with another fic for you! Couldn't find a better pic

Pairing: Yandere Henry Cavill x Trans male reader; Tyler Hoechlin x trans male reader. (mentioned)

Rating: MATURE

Warnings: Male Pregnancy, use of drugs, kidnapping, no consent. (what you expect? This yandere)

Word count: 3560

Summary: It started out with acting, then it went to stalking, and it went to him kidnapping you. And it ended with you spending the rest of your life with him.

I hope you enjoy this! Sorry if it's bad! And sorry for any errors that are found!

If you like what I write, how about check out my masterlist?

Keys:

E/c: Eye color

H/c: Hair Color

H/l: Hair length

S/c: Skin color

Y/a: Your age. (Pick an appropriate age)

DISCLAIMER!: THIS IS MY FIRST TIME WRITING TRANS MALE READER. I'M SORRY IF ANYTHING OFFENDS ANYONE.

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DISCLAIMER: I MEAN NO OFFENSE, DISRESPECT, OR HARM TO ANY OF THESE CELEBRITIES! THIS IS JUST FICTION.

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MINORS DNI. FEMALE READERS… I’LL ALLOW YOU TO READ MY FICS BUT DO NOT FETISHIZE ANY OF MY STORIES

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Henry was currently waiting for this someone to come. 'I wonder who it could be.' he thought to myself. We were going to start acting in the new TV show, Superman & Lois.

(Okay, I know that Tyler stars in this, but I'm just going to switch him out with Henry and play as Lois. You can change the name)

He then sees some guy, who looks small and innocent. You had h/l and beautiful, most dazzling e/c. His s/c looked smooth and soft like a freshly made bed. (?)

He looked to be Y/a. You looked so ethereal, a walking sex god. The source of men's sexual desire. He was so sexy and hot- 'Wait- what am I thinking? I'm not gay- I have a beautiful girlfriend, I need to stop thinking like this.'

Henry sees you approach me. "Hi! I'm assuming your Henry right?" you questioned, tilting your head. "Y-yeah- I'm Henry! N-nice to m-meet you!" Henry sturred over my words.

'Shit, why am I nervous around him? What is he doing to me?' Henry then heard a little chuckle. 'His laugh- AAGGHH!'

"Well, nice to meet you, Henry, I'm M/N!" you gave your hand out, Henry hesitantly shook it. 'His hands are rough and large!' you thought.

(Sorry, but I'll be using M/N.)

'His hands are so soft, like a baby's skin! I just wanna hold it forever-' Henry said to himself before pulling back. He didn't realize he had a rough grip on your hand.

"Ah- sorry about that," Henry said scratching his head out of embarrassment. "It's okay!" you gave your famous smile. Henry blushed.

'Why is this happening?! What is he doing to me!' Henry's mind was going all over the place, he was having a gay panic. 'What's wrong with this guy? I thought he was supposed to be calm and collected?'

You had no idea what was going on with him. "Well- I gotta go..." you said, backing away slowly before going to someone and starting a conversation with them. Hoping it won't be as awkward or weird

Henry just stared as you walked. He didn't notice that his hands were twitching. You could feel his stare piercing through your head. Such a dark and dominant stare.

'Maybe, he's just staring at something that so happens to be in my direction!' you said to yourself.

(No you dumb shit!)

"OKAY! Everyone, we're gonna be starting soon. Everyone to your stations and gets ready!" The director yelled. "Take M/N and Henry to their dressing rooms."

"Okay, sir. Come on!" They grabbed you and Henry to get dressed and ready.

They put on Henry's iconic Superman suit and they dressed you as Lois or the male equivalent of her. You looked at Henry and blushed a little. 'If I wasn't married to my husband, I would've gone for him. But he's straight.'

You looked away so Henry wouldn't notice but he did. 'He was blushing... AT ME- STOP IT!' Henry then glared at you. You noticed his glare and looked away. He didn't mean to glare.

"Okay, everyone get to your positions! Do you two know your lines?" The director asks looking back and forth. You both nodded your heads. "Okay, go on the scene and be ready!"

Once you both got there and got in position, the director yells, "ACTION!"

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TIMESKIP (END OF THE SCENE)

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(I don't know what they be doing at the studio.)

"Hey- Uh... M/n!" Henry called out. You turned to face Henry, "Mh?" Henry looked at you trying to get the words out. "Uh... You have something to say?"

"Uh- well." Henry scratching his head. "I'm sorry... for glaring at you earlier today." He was now blushing hard while grinning.

You looked at him confused about what he was talking about. Then you remembered earlier. "Oh-, Its okay Henry! I know you didn't mean it." you smiled at him, reassuring him that it was okay.

You were about to continue, but you got a call. You looked at the caller ID. "Hubby😘" is calling, your husband was calling. "I got to take this call." you then walked away to a private location.

Henry was curious so he followed you. He knows this is eavesdropping, but he wants to know, "what was so important about a phone call?"

Apparently, he took too long but he heard this. "I love you too." Henry left before you could spot him. 'He loves someone? Why do I care if he is in love with someone?'

"I'm gonna have to go! Bye Henry!" You then left leaving Henry behind to think about what was happening.

'What are you doing to me M/n? I never felt this way before.'

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TIMESKIP (6 months)

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You and Henry have been acquaintances for 6 months. Henry's feelings for you grew and grew but there wasn't that ultimate trigger that would finally set the bomb off.

Until now and later on today. (so two ultimate triggers.)

You wrapped your arms around Clark's neck. You were shorter than, so all you saw was his muscular chest. Clark then wrapped his arms around your waist, looking into your beautiful e/c.

Alarms were going off in Henry's mind as he pulls you closer to him. 'This is actually happening.' M/n smells so nice like fresh lavenders.

Your lips then met Clarks. You tilted your head a little to the side to have better access. Though his nose was kind of in the way. You closed your eyes as you fully gave in.

'He tastes so sweet like chocolate and strawberries.' (You eating my children?) Henry was getting real intimate with the kiss.

(Was that a good kissing scene? I have never seen the TV show)

"CUT!" you pulled back before walking away to get a drink. Henry was still in a daze. Your lips were so soft and delicious, he wants more. Henry never felt like this when kissed his girlfriend.

In fact, he was getting disgusted by her touch and only wants you to touch him. Hell, sometimes you made him hard and he would imagine having sex with you while having sex with her...

He was about to approach you before he heard that... voice. "BABE!" his girlfriend... Henry then felt two arms wrapped around him and a small kiss on his lips.

Henry felt like he wanna puke. It wasn't like the kiss he had with you- even though it was just acting but it was real to him- but he had to act like he enjoyed it. "HI! You must be Henry's wife, right?"

You intervene in their conversation. "Yes, I'm Henry's wife- well girlfriend! My name is Natalie Viscuso! You must be M/n? I'm a big fan of you!"

You and Natalie kept talking and getting along. Henry was just watching, he was getting angry and jealous. After about 30 minutes, Natalie went back to Henry.

"Sorry about that, I got carried away. How about me and you have some fun when we get home?" Henry just nodded his head without giving an expression.

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TIMESKIP (5 hours later. At Henry's home)

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(I know that Henry's real-life GF/Wife is a good lady. Remember, this is fiction)

"A-ahh! H-henry... you f-feel so good! Y-your... dick is... s-so BIG!" Natalie moaned as she rode Henry's cock.

Henry didn't seem to enjoy it, not one bit. He pushed- not too hard - Natalie off of him. "Why did you stop?" she said confused, Henry was getting dressed.

Henry didn't pay attention to her and just walked out.

The next morning, the news of Henry's and Natalie's break up spread like wildfire. Nobody understood why he broke up with her, they were doing just fine.

Henry didn't feel upset. While walking around last night, he began to think how you made him feel feelings he has never felt before.

He likes how you touch him- even though you didn't mean to. He likes your soft lips- even though you two were acting. He feels disgusted whenever he was with Natalie. Angry and jealousy surge through his veins whenever you talked with someone that wasn't him.

Henry now accepted that he likes you.

When you got the news of them breaking up, you were shocked. "Henry are you okay? I heard you and Natalie broke up," you asked worriedly.

"Yeah, I'm fine," Henry replied, nonchalantly. "You don't seem upset about it..." Henry just stared at you with his deep, dark eyes. 'What's wrong with him?'

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TIMESKIP (3 MONTHS)

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You've been waiting months to tell Henry something very important. You were nervous, scared, and... paranoid.

During the 3 months of waiting, you feel like you were being watched. Wherever you gom even in your own room.

You told Henry about it -since he was a close friend- and he told you not to worry about it saying, "You're just paranoid, it something you shouldn't worry about."

But you still kept your guard up. You made to look around and if you see someone looking suspicious. But tomorrow, you were going to come out to him.

You arrived at a... Dunkin Donuts (?) and ordered some donuts and coffee and took a seat by the window. You looked out to see some people walking by. There was a car that had black tinted windows, you couldn't see who was inside.

You pulled your phone to text Henry to come and talk with him. But that wasn't necessary, Henry walked and turned in your direction. "Hey, M/n!"

'How did he know I was here? Or was it a coincidence?' you thought. Then you felt a rough hand on your shoulder. "Mind if I sit here?" you shake your head.

Henry took his seat and ordered some food and coffee. 'It's too crowded here.' While seating there, you could feel stares and glances. You just ignored them.

Henry stared at you with love in his eyes, taking in all your features. Then he notices something on your finger, 'Is that a ring? IS HE ENGAGED? Or..... is he MARRIED!'

Rage was running through his veins but he had to calm himself down or you'll notice.

You had enough of his staring and break the silence. "I need to tell you something but it can't be here." that snapped Henry out of his daze. "What do you need to about?"

"It's something personal and it can't be here." You said getting up, and stressing your muscles, and heading out the door. Henry nodded his head before getting up and following you out.

As you two were walking, just taking in the fresh air and sounds of cars driving by. "So, what did you want to talk about?" Henry turned to you.

"Well... I hope you don't look at me differently..." you said looking down at the ground. "I'll never look at you differently bab- M/n."

You took a deep breath. "I'm trans..." you said quietly but Henry still heard you. "Oh... just because you're trans doesn't change what I see in you. You're still a man," Henry said putting his hand on your shoulder.

You smiled at him before jumping onto him. Henry wrapped his arms around you. He wanted to stay like this forever, you just in his arms feeling your warm, heat against him.

But sadly, you pulled away. "Thank you! Thank you!" you're glad Henry accepted you.

But Henry knew you were trans. Remember how you feel like you were being watched? Well, that was all Henry, he would watch you play with yourself. He would masturbate to this, he was quite turned on about this discovery.

'I'll accept whoever you are baby.'

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TIMESKIP (1 week)

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It's been one week since the whole coming out thing and Henry was gathering the confidence to ask you out. But today is the day.

Henry got a text saying, "Meet me at the park." so naturally he did. He didn't spot you at first until he recognizes your h/c. Then it's at that time he notices someone else there.

This bastard had his arms wrapped around you, and he gave small kisses on your lips. Henry's right eye twitched as he watched the display right in front of him.

'Who the hell is he?!? Is HE the one that M/n married?' he snapped out of it when you called his name to come over.

"I'm glad you came Henry! This is my husband, Tyler Hoechlin. Tyler, this is Henry, one of my friends!" you said with a smile. 'So, that means his name is M/n Hoechlin.'

Tyler gave his hand out and Henry shook it. Henry had a rough grip on his hand, squeezing it. And he just glared at him. "Well, let's go!"

Henry just glared at Tyler the whole time. 'M/N should ONLY have my last name! I should be the one with him!' Tyler notices how Henry was glaring at him the whole time. But he wasn't fazed by it.

'I'm gonna find a way to get rid of you! Or I could just take M/n?'

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TIMESKIP (3 DAYS)

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It had been 3 days since Henry met your husband, and he wasn't happy at all. Today he wants to hang out with you, and talk about something. Henry called your phone and waited for you to pick it up.

Meanwhile... (This is my first shot at writing smut with TMR.)

"A-ahh! d-daddy... your c-cock... is so... b-big!" you moaned as rode Tyler like your life depended on it. "Fuck, you're so wet and warm for me, M/n. Your tight little pussy feels amazing!" Tyler groaned as he thrust further into you.

Tyler sees that your phone is vibrating, 'Henry?' Tyler smirked, he knew that Henry was glaring at him with hate and stared at you with love. 'This will teach him who my baby boy belongs to.'

"Be a good boy for daddy and answer the phone." Tyler handed you the phone, you took a look at the caller and noticed it was Henry calling. "D-daddy... I-i can't do... it with y-you- thrusting... i-into me!"

Tyler stopped his thrusts but as you answered his call, he thrust right back into you. "A-ah!"

"Hey, M/n! Are you okay?" Henry questioned. "Y-yeah... I'm okay..." Tyler stopped thrusting, you could his cock pulsing and twitching inside you.

"You're little pussy is wet for me. You like it when I rub you here?" Tyler then began to rub your small dick. You tried to not moan out loud.

But Henry could tell, that you were moaning. And he was angry and just hanged up. "H-hello?... I think he... h-hung up." "Now, I can fuck you!" And he went back to banging you.

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TIMESKIP (5 DAYS)

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5 days after the little event, Henry hasn't called you. You tried calling him and seeing what's wrong, but he never answered.

Tyler kept telling you to not worry about him. Meanwhile, Henry was just in his room masturbating to a picture of yours and mutters, "You belong to me... Tyler and your's relationship is fake! We kissed, we held each other, and so many other things."

The acting seems to make Henry delusional, cause he believed it was all real and that you meant it. He has to find a way to make you his and he just how to do it.

There was a party coming up. You and Tyler would both be attending.

You and Tyler both arrived at the party. People were drinking, dancing, and doing other weird things. "I'm gonna go get a drink." Tyler nodded his head.

He went over to a table and sat down. Tyler wasn't the type to get a drink. Meanwhile, Henry kept his eyes on you. 'This is going to be a fun night!' You thought.

But this will turn out to be the worst night you'll ever have.

Had a few drinks, you were trying to find Tyler in the crowd but couldn't find him. You didn't feel the vibration in your phone, "I'll be waiting for you in the car."

As you were walking around, you felt yourself being pushed up against a wall. "Oh... *HIc* T-Tyler... I didn't *Hic* know you could be *Hic* this rough."

Henry pinned you against the wall and crash his lips against yours. Sweet but tasted like alcohol. 'Since when did Tyler become all muscular' Then you felt a needle pierce through your neck and injecting you with some kind of drug.

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TIMESKIP (After the party.)

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You woke up with a massive headache. Your mind is still blurry but after a few moments later you could see properly. You noticed a cup of water and headache pills by it. You took it.

Then, you realized, this isn't your room and that you were wearing a bunny outfit! 'What the fuck? Where am I?!' Then you began to feel hot and needy.

Your pussy was leaking and clenching around nothing. Your small dick was aching to be touched. "Is my little bunny awake?" A deep husky voice said.

You turned in its direction to notice that it was Henry?! But your mind was getting clouded with lust and want. "H-Henry...?"

"Shh, baby. Daddies here." Henry said getting closer to you and pulling you to his lap. Your hands were now on his shirtless chest, feeling his hairy pecs.

"Where's... T-Tyler?" you questioned, bad mistake. Henry smacked one of your cheeks. "DON'T EVER MENTION HIS NAME! YOU BELONG TO ME! FORGET ABOUT HIM!"

You were getting turned on. It must be the drug he gave you, cause you don't like it someone yells at you. "You're leaking so much slick? You want daddy to help you?"

Before you could respond, Henry pushed you down onto the couch and you could feel his meaty cock at your front entrance. "Your little pussy is leaking so much, you don't know how much you turn me on."

Henry lubes his cock with your slick before pushing in. "F-fuck! You're so tight! I guess Tyler didn't fuck you that good." Henry groaned as he pushed all the way in you.

He let you adjust a little before thrusting back into you. "You're so wet, tight, and warm. Better than my ex!" Henry groaned as he feels you tightening around him.

His hand then went down to stroke your cock. "A-ah!" you moaned as you tried to turn your face away. "You're close? Me too!" you could feel Henry thrust into your womb.

He was hitting your pleasure spot tip-on. "M-mmhh!" Your body clenched before convulsing beneath him. Your muscles twitched around his cock.

"Fuck, you came! I'm close! You'll look so beautiful swollen with my kids. The thought of spending the rest of my life with you just makes me wanna cum!"

You could feel his cock burst inside you. Feeling you up with his cum. "Get pregnant from this!" He stayed inside you before collapsing onto your smaller body.

He was leaving love marks. "You belong to me now, M/n..."

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TIMESKIP (DECADE LATER)

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It has been a decade since you were taken away. A decade being with a monster- who you looked up to before. He had taken you away from others.

You were in the kitchen cooking some waiting for him to come home. "PAPA! When is daddy coming home?" your oldest child said playing with his lego spaceship.

"He'll be home soon. How about go play with your siblings?" they nodded their head before heading to their room. You gave birth to Henry's children, when you had O/C/N, you promised that you'll take them far away from this monster.

You looked at the ring. It was no longer Tyler's ring but Henry's. Just as you said Henry, two strong muscular arms wrapped around your waist.

"How is my beautiful husband doing?" you tried pushing him away but it didn't work.

"Just accept it, M/n. You'll never escape me, and you don't want anything bad to happen to your- no- OUR kids? Right?" tears began to pour out your eyes.

"No. Please don't hurt them... they're just kids, they did nothing wrong." you cried trying to not alarm them.

"Then just accept your fate. You've been resisting for 10 years, it's no use. No one will ever find you." Henry whispered into your ear.

"Just accept it."

THE END

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A/N: I hope this was good! I'm sorry if anything is incorrect. Do you like my new format? Anyways, bye my 🍓Little Strawberries🍓!

#x trans male reader #trans male reader #x male reader #male reader #henry cavill x male reader #yandere henry cavill x trans male reader #henry cavill x trans male reader #henry cavill imagine #yandere henry cavill x male reader #yandere henry cavill imagine #yandere henry cavill #male pregnancy #I'm sorry of this offends anyone

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capricorn-stark · 3 years

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Unexpected Encounters

pairing: dick grayson x reader, first encounter

warning: n/a

a/n: yeah I got nothing, pretty casual fic

part 2

Bludhaven was a city so miserable, it could give Gotham a run for its money any day of the week.

You would know - after having lived in Gotham for most your life, only to end up relocating to Bludhaven for your job, you could whole-heartedly say that Bludhaven made you long for your dark, perpetually rain-drenched city. The place was practically like Gotham’s Crime Alley - if Crime Alley had been expanded to a house an entire city of people.

One of the biggest differences between the two, however, was that there was no silent guardian preventing the crime rate from steadily crawling upwards with each passing hour, no Dark Knight in the form of some stranger dressed up in a bat costume to save his citizens from killer clowns and watered-down furries in penguin costumes. In Bludhaven, you would simply manage to survive on your own, or you would get mugged and end up at the bottom of its polluted harbor for some poor soul to find weeks later.

And that was simply how life was.

Granted, those kind of thoughts definitely were not offering you comfort as you walked down the streets of Bludhaven yourself, keys between your fingers and the feel of your gun concealed in your other hand as you kept carefully drifting beneath the lights of the dying streetlamps, cautious of directing any sort of attention to yourself. You had missed your bus home after working a bit too late, and you couldn’t exactly wait around for the next one to arrive in another two hours.

Luckily for you, you saw no real dangers tonight.

Maybe, for once, it would be a quiet trip home.

Naturally, you were immediately proven wrong.

You were a generally cautious person, as anyone who grew up in a city like Gotham had to be in order to survive there at all. You were careful of your surroundings, who you talked to, who you ran into, and where you walked. You were in no way stupid enough to go into a random alleyway because it just so happened to be a conveniently located “short-cut”. Ever.

You were smarter than that.

But you hadn’t noticed the presence of a man in a dark and worn hood trailing behind you for what, as far as you knew, could’ve been quite some time now, formerly concealed in the crowds you had walked through. He was only a few feet away from you now, his steps quickening ever so slightly when he noticed you catching sight of him in the window of a passing store. You remembered that you had seen that same man nearly five minutes prior a few blocks before.

That, as anyone could’ve guessed, was definitely not a good sign.

The crowds were thinning as you edged closer to your part of the city, fewer and fewer people lining the stores and alleys, with even fewer who looked like they would help you if you happened to need it. You couldn’t exactly dart into the nearest corner store and expect him to leave you alone, there was a much higher chance of him simply leaving your line of sight altogether and reappearing when you finally stepped outside. If you tried to book it, you were more than certain that a man that size could easily catch up.

The last option you had was a confrontation, but living in places like this for as long as you had, you were sure it could escalate immediately and leave you in a much, much worse situation. You had a gun, but you couldn’t gauge how effective it would be if he happened to have one himself, and this was Bludhaven.

Everyone had a gun.

So, all your options were bad. You felt your grip around your gun tighten anyways as you walked faster, cursing under your breath as you noticed him doing the same behind you. Your heart was racing now, breath quickening as you tried to tell yourself that you were almost home, that you just had one more block to go before-

“Excuse me, ma’am. Are you alright?”

You looked up at the source of the new voice that had gotten you to stop in your tracks and meet a pair of bright blue eyes. The man in front of you offered you a reassuring smile as he tapped the badge on his uniform.

Bludhaven Police Department.

“Someone bothering you?”

You turned your head to look back at where the man following you had been, only to feel a chill run down your spine as you realized he had disappeared into the shadows of the city, as if he hadn’t been there at all.

“I thought-” You cut yourself off, still staring at the people milling around left and right. “I thought there was someone-” He seemed to notice how shaken you were immediately, tearing his gaze away from the crowd and finally settling back to you, lips curving into another soft smile. Despite everything, it was strangely comforting to see.

“If it makes you feel better, I can walk you to your destination.” You couldn’t bring yourself to decline when your heart was still racing in your chest, so you managed a nod. The man pulled his jacket around him as he moved to fall into step alongside you after one last look into the crowds. “You’re sure you’re alright?”

“Yeah, I am now,” you brushed off, wrapping your own jacket a little closer around your body as you made yourself fixate your gaze on the path ahead. Your fingers were hurting from the previous clutch of your keys. The gun had finally been fully tucked away. “Thanks, Detective-” You cut yourself off to get a closer look at his ID. “Grayson?”

“Richard,” he offered with another smile, glancing at you in turn. “Well, I go by Dick, but-” he caught sight of your expression and laughed, shaking his head. “Richard’s fine, too.” You felt your face burn red and you tried to clear your throat.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to-”

“It’s all good, I get it a lot. Can I ask for yours?” You chuckled a little before introducing yourself to him, shaking your head dismissively when he commented that it suited you.

“Am I making you leave your post or something?” Dick waved that off immediately, sliding his hands into the pockets of his jacket.

“Nah, I’m just patrolling this area tonight. I was about to head into the café down the street for some coffee when I saw you, and I thought you seemed a little alarmed.” His tone was even but kind, and it was easy for you to tell that he had been in this type of situation a million times before. “If you need anything, medical assistance, filing a report, I can take care of that.”

You nodded slightly again, taking another deep breath as you felt your panic finally subside. His presence was comforting, and you were glad he was with you for the rest of the walk home. You still couldn’t bring yourself to think about what might’ve happened if he hadn’t shown up.

You wouldn’t be missing the bus again any time soon, that was certain.

“I was just surprised,” you finally started, feeling a twinge of embarrassment creep up your face for no apparent reason. As if you were the one who should’ve been more careful. “I didn’t see him - I guess I wasn’t as careful as I thought I was.”

“Don’t think that’s on you, because it wasn’t your fault,” he started at once, apparently having been able to read your mind. “Creeps like that are running around all over this place, you can’t expect to see all of them coming. I’m just glad you’re alright.” You nodded again, pulling the jacket a little tighter before you sneaked another glance up at him.

You hadn’t exactly seen much of what he looked like beneath the dingy light of the streetlamps, but as you edged towards your apartment complex, you could finally see his face beneath the brighter lighting.

You noticed the striking blue eyes first, of course, accompanied by strong, defined features, jet black hair, and a surprising look of youthfulness despite the fact that he had sounded like he’d be a bit older. The light crinkles by his eyes told you he was the kind of person who tended to smile a lot.

Clearly, he was very, very handsome.

“I’m actually pretty new to this whole gig,” he commented as he scanned around the street you were on, snapping you out of your not-so subtle staring. “Moved from Gotham a few months ago, found a job with the BDP. They definitely appreciated having new hires around, with the state this city’s in.”

“So did I,” you blurted out in surprise, causing him to raise a brow at you. “Not working with the BDP - but I moved here a few months ago, too, from Gotham. I lived there my whole life.”

“Well, look at that,” he laughed, seeming rather incredulous but certainly pleased at the finding. “I guess we have that in common. Some move, huh, thinking Gotham’s about as bad it gets before getting smacked with Bludhaven?” You actually laughed at that in turn, nodding in agreement.

“No super-people flying around to save the place, either. Tragic.”

“I’m sure one’s gonna show up around here eventually,” he dismissed, following you when you motioned towards your building in the distance. “If there’s any place that needs some of them around, it’s here.”

“As what, Bludhaven’s version of Batman?” you deadpanned, imagining what things would be like if another man in a bat costume started running around and beating up street-thugs. At least the crime rates might dip. “As long as he doesn’t come with more psychotic clowns, I guess we could use one. Even if that means changing my insurance plan to fit him in.”

“Better safe than sorry,” Dick agreed, corners of his lips twitching into another almost mischievous grin that caused your face to redden in the dark. “Doesn’t have to be another Batman, maybe it’ll be someone new.”

“As long as they take care of the city, I think I won’t care who it is,” you decided with another light chuckle, stopping in front of your building and looking up at him. “I just hope they’ll be cut out for the job.” He stopped in front of you with another smile, shrugging his shoulders nonchalantly.

“I guess we’ll have to wait and see, huh?” You found yourself mirroring the action, feeling rather amused by the statement.

“I guess we will.”

The brief moment of silence between you was interrupted by him clearing his throat, moving to grab the handle of the door for you at the same time you tried to do it yourself, ending with the both of you promptly colliding apologizing profusely while backing away from the door altogether.

“Sorry, I didn’t - sorry-” he cut himself off by reaching out to pull the door open for you again with an awkward laugh, not unlike your own. “I hope I’ll see you around here on a better note,” Dick finalized with one last apologetic grin, letting you slip past him and into the building.

“You mean when I’m not speed-walking away from creeps running around Bludhaven?” you chuckled in response, shouldering your bag off-handedly. “Definitely, I agree. Thank you, Dick.”

He made a show of dramatically tipping his hat towards you before turning on his heel, still smiling to himself.

“Pleasure’s mine.”

#pandemonium scrawl #dick grayson #dick grayson x reader #dick grayson x you #dc #dc comics #dc multiverse #dick grayson imagine #dick grayson x y/n #nightwing #nightwing x you #dc imagine #batfam imagine #fanfic #reader insert #reader imagine #gender neutral reader

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heywardsarchive · 3 years

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Home [Harry Potter]

Requests closed! Based on this request by nonnie : id like to request a harry x gryffindor reader. its the yule ball and harry wants to ask y/n. but the other boys are all over her and he barely gets a chance. so basically y/n is cho but she says yes XD

Summary: Harry recalls a time when he wanted to ask y/n to the ball but couldn't gather the courage to ask her out.

Pairing: dad!Harry Potter x female reader

A/n: I think this is my favourite Harry fic I've written! Im a sucker for dad!Harry, basically any Harry. I just love that man.

Warnings: none, just pure fluff

Word count: 1.9k words

Memories are in italics

******

It was bedtime on a snowy January night in the Potter household as Harry Potter tucked his oldest into bed. James, only eight years old, was an energetic young boy. He wasn't ready to sleep yet and he was determined to stay up. The only way he could do so was if his father told him a bedtime story.

"Daddy," he started pulling his dad's sleeve, "tell me a bedtime story."

Harry looked down at his son who was trying to look as innocent as possible. "James, it's time for bed."

"Please daddy!" He gave his best puppy dog expression, his eyes the same as the woman harry loved most, and Harry melted. Both mother and son knew how to use their eyes to their advantage.

"Alright fine, call Albus and Lily and I will tell you a bedtime story."

James excitedly jumped out of bed and brought his siblings into his bedroom.

"Alright kids, what bedtime story do you want to hear?" Harry sat down on the bed beside the three children. "Tell us about the first time you had a date with mummy!" Albus said and lily and James nodded in enthusiasm.

"Alright then. So the first time we went on a date was when we were in our fourth year in Hogwarts. Remember the time I told you about the wizard tournament I was in?..."

The triwizard tournament, a disaster for Harry. He had unwillingly got thrown into a game he wanted no part of. He managed to complete the first task but the hardest part was yet to start. He needed to find a date for the Yule ball. In his opinion fighting a dragon was easier than asking a girl out.

He knew who he wanted to take but he was yet to gather the guts to ask her. He saw her multiple times over the week but everytime there was a distraction. Whether it was her friends pulling her away or a teacher snapping at him to pay attention. Harry was unable to get to her.

Ron too was struggling, unable to find a date. "Mate, you fought a dragon if you can't get a date nobody can." He told him as they walked through the courtyard of Hogwarts. "Right now, I think I'd take the dragon." Harry sighed. Ron patted his back. Harry's eyes drifted toward the crowd of students, his gaze stopping on her. Y/n l/n, she was the nicest girl in Hogwarts and everyone was her friend. She and Harry were acquaintances, they weren't close per se. Harry had been crushing on her since the end of third year when she helped him in potions.

Harry, Ron and Hermione were sitting on a table doing potions work while everyone around them were talking about their dates to the ball. A boy sitting to Harry's right was whispering to his friend. Harry tried not to listen but potions was boring and he heard y/n's name and his ears perked up.

"Have you heard? David Arden asked y/n to the ball. She turned him down , do you think I have a chance?" He asked hopefully. The boy beside him, the friend he was talking to, scoffed. "She turned down David Arden, he's literally every girl's crush. What makes you think you have a chance? Besides she's turned down all the 5 guys who asked her out this week."

Harry returned to his work. 5 guys asked her out and she turned all of them down? What chance do I have now. He thought to himself. "Ron, do you think y/n will go with me to the ball?" He shook his best friend's shoulder. "You're the boy who lived mate, she'd definitely agree."

"She's turned down 5 boys this week ron! What if she turns me down too." Harry sighed. "You will never know if you don't try." Ron shrugged.

Harry made up his mind he was going to ask her out that evening.

"Did you do it daddy? Did you ask her to the ball?" Little Lily asked excitedly. Albus shushed his sister. "Let daddy finish!" Harry chuckled and continued. "As I was saying..."

Harry kept avoiding the fact that he had to ask y/n to the ball. He made excuses to do it later but the more he delayed it the higher the chance of him not getting to go with her higher.

As he returned from the great hall after dinner, he ran into y/n. The person he wanted to speak to. "Im so sorry, I wasn't looking where I was going." She apologized. "Don't worry about it, I wasn't looking either." Harry chuckled awkwardly.

"I'll be going then." She smiled, but hesitated a bit. "Hey Harry-" "y/n-" they started at the same time. They laughed. "You go first." She said.

"Uh sure, I uh wanted to ask you if you uh wanted to um gototheballwithme." He stuttered.

"Im sorry, what did you say?"

"Do you want to go to the ball with me?" He said, slowly this time.

"What did she say?? Did she say yes daddy? Did she??" Albus asked this time. "Ofcourse she said yes dummy, they're married!" James said to his brother.

Y/n bit back a smile. "Yes, I'd love to."

Harry felt a blush creep up his neck. "Uh great, that's amazing. Uh what did you want to ask me?"

"I wanted to ask you if you wanted to go with me but I guess you beat me to it." She smiled shyly. "I'll be going then, see you soon Harry." She kissed his cheek and walked to her common room.

Harry stood glued to the spot with his hand on his cheek a smile on his face. "You good mate?" Rons voice startled him, snapping him out of his trance. "Im brilliant, never better. I asked y/n to the ball and she said yes! Ron she said yes!" "Good job man, I knew you could do it!" Ron pat his best friend's back.

That night Harry fell asleep with a smile on his face.

"How was the ball dad? Did you have fun?" James asked curiously.

"Oh yes, we had the time of our life."

The day of the ball couldn't come faster. Harry's excitement was uncontrollable. He kept practicing his dance steps and talked to himself in the mirror causing Ron to shake his head and pass comments about Harry being 'whipped'. He didn't mind though, he was whipped.

Finally the day was here. Harry stood at the bottom of the staircase and waited for his date to arrive. He looked around the hall, it was decorated with Christmas decor, snow was charmed to fall, there were icicles on the ceiling and everyone was dressed up in beautiful attire.

As Harry was looking around, he felt a tap on his shoulder. "Hello Harry." It was y/n. She looked absolutely stunning in her dress. Harry forgot how to speak.

"Did you actually forgot how to speak daddy?" Giggled Lily. "It's a saying lils." James explained to his sister.

"You look beautiful." He finally got out. "Thankyou haz, you look dashing yourself." She poked his chest playfully. Harry blushed at the nickname.

"Potter! There you are. We are waiting for the champions. You dance first." Professor McGonagall said. "Wh-what?" Harry stuttered.

"Yes! Now go on we don't have all night." She hurried both the teens.

"I really can't dance, I'm going to make a fool of myself." Harry whispered to y/n. "It's alright, just follow my lead." Harry nodded in relief.

As the champions entered the hall, Harry's grip on y/n:s hand tightened. She squeezed back to comfort him. Everyone's eyes were on them and Harry was feeling self conscious. They stood on stage and Harry placed his hands on y/n's waist and she on his shoulders. "It'll be fine." She mouthed. Harry nodded. His hands were getting clammy and his mouth dried.

The music started playing and all the champions started to waltz to the sweet melody. Both if them swayed to the music and Harry spun her around. He was starting to enjoy it. At last the dance floor was open to all. The attention was off Harry and he felt much better.

Y/n pulled Harry's hands to a more open space on the dance floor and started dancing to the upbeat song. "Dance with me!" She laughed. Harry looked at her and smiled. They both danced badly at the songs, having the time of their life.

Soon they left the dance floor to go and have some refreshments. "You know, I thought you'd turn me down." Harry said sheepishly. "Why would you think that?" Y/n asked curiously. "Because I heard you turned down 5 boys in the same week and I thought you'd turn me down too." "I turned down the other boys because I wanted to go with you." She placed a hand on his cheek.

"I really like you y/n. Im glad we came together." Harry whispered, his face moving closer to hers, staring into her eyes. "I really like you too haz. Alot." She closed the gap between them.

It was blissful. Harry didn't feel the butterflies that others say happen on your first kiss, it felt like coming home, it felt right. It was perfect. When they pulled away Harry realised that he had found the one he wanted to be with forever.

"Would you like to be my girlfriend?" Harry asked her. "Definitely." Y/n said kissing him once again.

"Ewww." Gagged all the children when Harry mentioned that they kissed. "Daddy has the cooties." Albus said in disgust. "I think it's cute." James said proudly. Harry laughed and ruffled his hair.

"What's going on here?" Y/n entered the room. "Daddy was telling us about the Yule ball!" Lily exclaimed. "Was he now?" Y/n said smiling at her family. "It truly was a great experience. Maybe when you go to Hogwarts you'll have one too!"

"Alright it's time for bed now. Let's get you tucked in." Harry clapped his hands. James settled himself on the bed and Harry kissed his forehead and shit the door. He tucked Albus while y/n tucked lily.

Shutting the door, Harry pulled his wife toward him. "I love you. You've given me three lovely children and the best life I could ever imagine. You stood by md through everything. I don't deserve you." He kissed her forehead.

"Oh haz, you have gone through so much you deserve everything and more and you make me the happiest woman alive. I love you so much." She kissed his lips.

Just like the day of the yule ball, this kiss felt right. Harry was home and he never wanted to leave.

*****

#harry potter x reader #Harry Potter #harry potter self insert #harry potter x y/n #harry potter x you #dad!harry #fluff

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thelukesalvez · 4 years

Text

Luke Alvez x Reader: Premature

Request: ‘can i request an imagine where the reader is pregnant and luke’s away on a case when she goes into labor? and garcia has to call luke to get him home?’

Tagged: @ssaic-jareau , @alvezstan , @saintd0lce , @ogmilkis , @reidswords, @ssa-morgan, @garcias-batcave , @akimagies, @zhangyixingxing1 , @pinkdiamond1016

Word count: 4.5k

Warnings: none

A/N: idk why i always picture luke with a daughter??? but anyway another DAD luke fic like yes pls, enjoy!

The worst part about being pregnant had to be the lower back aches. Or maybe the way your swollen ankles prevented you from fitting into any of your cute shoes. It could also be the tender breasts, the mood swings, or how food didn’t taste as good, yet somehow you were still always hungry. Come to think of it, being pregnant, in general, was the worst.

Currently, you were seven and a half months along. You had 6 weeks until your daughter would be born. 6 weeks somehow felt both impossibly long and just around the corner. On one hand, you really couldn’t wait to get your body back. You missed wearing pants that didn’t have an elastic waistband, and the freedom of being able to get out of bed without Luke’s help.

On the other hand, you and Luke were going to be first time parents. This brought about a lot of anxiety and uncertainty. There was still so much to get done before the baby arrived, that at times you couldn’t help but feel a little overwhelmed.

“You worry too much,” Luke had told you one afternoon.

But you disagreed. “Luke, she’s gonna be here in less than two months and her room isn’t even close to being finished. We still have to paint, and put together the crib-”

“We have six weeks, baby. I’ll get it done, I promise.”

His reassuring words did little to calm your mind or your nerves. One thing that did keep the anxious thoughts at bay, was work. Focusing your attention on BAU cases was the perfect distraction… until that was taken away from you too.

“I don’t want you in the field,” Luke had stated that night.

“You’re joking, right?”

Luke’s pressed lips and slightly flared nostril told you that no, he was not joking.

“Luke,” you’d groaned, throwing your head back against the pillow. “I’m fine.”

“You can barely walk, let alone chase after anyone,” he stated, his arms folding across his chest. He always did that when he wanted you to take him seriously. “And I know for a fact that you can’t fit into a bulletproof vest.”

You threw him your best glare. “Okay, first off, that was mean. Second, you can’t expect me to just sit here all day doing nothing. I’ll go insane, you know I will.”

“Baby, you’re seven months pregnant. You need to relax.”

“Relax? Seriously, Luke?” you felt a wave of frustration wash over you. Lately you've been finding it so hard to control your emotions, so you’re not entirely surprised when you feel the burning of tears in your eyes. “I can’t relax! I’m uncomfortable all the time. I’m fat and I’m hot and I’m sweaty. My boobs feel like they’re going to explode any second. I’m nauseous and I’m tired and I’m hungry. And if I stay home all day that’s all I’m going to think about. I’m going to just sit and dwell on the fact that I am miserable.”

Luke’s face softens when he sees that you’re crying. That wasn’t an uncommon occurrence lately, but he felt guilty for being the one to cause it this time around.

“C’mere,” he says, taking a seat on the edge of the bed.

And even though you’re angry with him, you don’t hesitate before scooting up the mattress and sliding into his arms. You lay your head on his shoulder, Luke’s hand finding its way down to your lower back, where he rubs gentle circles into the sore muscles. Being in his arms had a way of making you feel better.

“I’m sorry you’re so uncomfortable, baby. I just- I worry about you. All I want is for you and the baby to be okay.”

You sniffle into his chest, his sweet words making your voice soften. “I can’t sit here all day, Luke. I really can’t.”

“I know.” He rests his cheek on top of your head and sighs. “How about we meet in the middle?”

Looking up at him, you skeptically ask, “How?”

“You could work the cases from the BAU,” he suggests.

You scrunch your nose, secretly hoping that his compromise meant just giving in to what you wanted entirely. But, as you think about it for a moment, you had to admit you didn’t completely hate the idea. Things were getting challenging in the field. And as much as you hated him for saying it, Luke was right- the bulletproof vests no longer fit you, and you couldn’t chase down any perps. You were relatively useless, at least physically, at this point.

“I’m sure Garcia would love an extra hand,” he adds.

“Fine,” you mutter quietly.

“Thank you,” he whispers, pressing a light peck against the top of your head.

But, as Luke would soon find, just because you agreed to be stationed at the BAU did not mean you weren’t going to complain about it.

The two of you walked, hand-in-hand, into the building the next morning. Emily had called, about fifteen minutes prior, to let you both know that you had a case in Boston.

“What if I just stay at the police precinct?”

Luke rolled his eyes. “No.”

“Why not? I could help Reid with the geological profile- or interview the families. There’s a lot I can do-”

“We already agreed that you’d stay here.”

You scoffed in frustration before trying another tactic.

“You know,” you drawled, using the hand he wasn’t already holding to reach around and grip his arm. “I’m worried about you, too.”

“Is that so?”

“Yes,” you state, matter-of-factly. “Just because I’m carrying the baby doesn’t mean I’m the only one that needs to stay safe. It would be equally devastating if something happened to you. You let your hand trail down the length of his arm and over to your belly. “I don’t know what we’d do without you.”

Luke swiped his ID badge to get inside the building before holding the door open for you, you hesitate, waiting for his response. Luke’s lips were parted into a soft grin. “I know you’re just trying to make me feel guilty, but that was really sweet.” He leans forward and pecks your lips lightly.

You roll your eyes and storm into the building.

…

“So I hear we’re going to be lab partners!” Garcia drums her fingers against the round table.

You shrug, “Looks like it.”

“I know you’re bummed to not be in the field, but I’m so excited that you’ll be here.”

Luke’s hand reaches for yours underneath the table. You let your fingers lace together with his before you smile back at Garcia. Maybe being sidelined wouldn’t be all bad. “I’m excited too, Pen,” you tell her.

“Alright guys listen up,” Emily enters the briefing room. “Police need our help in Boston. Two college students have gone missing the past month, and one of the bodies was just found dumped off of I-95. Y/N will be working the case from here, so we’ll be down a body in the field.”

Garcia hits a few buttons on the remote, making a gruesome image project onto the screen in front of the team. She presents a few more details about the case before Emily declares, “Wheels up in 20.”

Luke’s shifting through his go bag at his desk when you approach him from behind. You rest your hand on his back and rub up and down his soft, maroon shirt.

“Be safe, okay?” you tell him. You felt guilty knowing he was going into the field without you.

Luke sighs, turning his body so that he was facing you. His big hands rest on your hips as he holds you out in front of him. “You know I will.”

You nod, and you believed his words, but that didn’t mean you’d be any less worried about him while he was away.

Luke could sense the uneasiness on your face, so he leaned in and kissed your cheek lightly before whispering, “There is nothing that could ever keep me from coming back home to you and our baby, do you hear me?”

Leaning into his touch, you sigh. “Good. Because I meant what I said; I don’t know what we’d do without you.”

“We’re going to miss you out there, kid.” Rossi states as he passes your desk.

“Keep me updated,” you respond sadly. He pats you on the shoulder before nodding with a smile.

With a final kiss and promises to call, Luke and the rest of the team load onto the jet to head for Boston.

At first, you stay in the bullpen seated at your desk, running through the casefile. You were the only one in the entire room. By habit, you kept looking up at Luke’s desk. Instead of his warm smile, you’re met by his empty chair. Your eyes linger for a moment before you feel a sharp pain shoot across your stomach, making you wince.

“Woah,” you whisper, your hand falling on your bump. “Was that a kick?” you ask her out loud.

It didn’t take long before the silence became deafening, so after a few minutes, you stand up and waddle down the hallway to Garcia’s leir. You knock at her door before entering.

“Hey,” you say, your hand supporting your sore back. “It’s like, creepy quiet out there, do you mind if I work with you, in here?”

Her face lights up. “Of course!” Immediately, she begins clearing off a space on her desk for you to set up.

“Thanks,” you smile, taking a seat in her spare office chair. You try your best to sit up straight as your insides begin to cramp. Garica turns to see your eyes squeezed shut.

“What’s wrong?” her voice is filled with concern.

“Nothing,” you sigh in relief when the cramp passes. “She’s kicking a lot today.”

Garcia’s face breaks out into a large grin. “Oh! My Goddaughter’s gonna be a spunky one, isn’t she?”

…

As it turned out, there wasn’t much for you to do from the BAU. Garcia worked tirelessly, delving into files and uncovering helpful information for the team. But you weren’t even close to being as tech savvy as her, and besides the casefile you’d already read through four times, you didn’t have many resources to work off of.

Whenever the team would call with questions, you’d listen intently, and try to figure out some way that you could help them. But, by that evening, you were starting to feel pretty useless.

“Why don’t you just head home?” Garcia suggested kindly. “You look tired.”

You were tired. You were tired and hungry and sore from all your baby’s kicking. But you shook your head. “I don’t want to be in the house alone,” you admit to her. “It’s too quiet there without Luke.”

Garcia, of course, understands. “Do you want to take a walk? Just around the building?”

At first, you want to say no. But as you consider her offer, you can’t help but admit that stretching your legs sounded pretty nice, so you agree.

“I think I’m most excited for coffee,” you tell Garcia. The two of you had walked the entire floor of the BAU a couple of times now and were about to head back to her office.

“God, I can’t even imagine going nine months without coffee. I think that would break me,” she admits.

You start to laugh, but you’re quickly interrupted by a sudden, sharp pain in your abdomen.

“Woah,” you gasp, grabbing your stomach. You hunch over, desperate to alleviate some of the pain, but it only grows with intensity. It takes your breath away for a moment, and all you can do is focus on the tiled floor beneath you as you attempt to muscle through it.

But then you feel something burst inside of you, followed by a warm liquid rushing down your leg.

With wide, terrified eyes, you look up to Garcia.

“Pen,” you whisper, barely recognizing your own voice. “I th-think my water just broke...”

“Oh my god,” she says, her voice higher than usual. “Oh my god, okay, okay. You’re okay.”

She hurries to your side and wraps an arm around your waist. You and your shaky legs are grateful for her support. She guides you to a chair stationed in the hallway, where she helps you sit.

The panic really starts to set in once your eyes land on your dampened pants.

“No,” you start to shake your head rapidly. “Pen, no I can’t- it’s too early-”

You’re amazed by how calm Garcia remains. “It’s okay,” she tells you. “We’re gonna get you to the hospital and everything’s gonna be fine.”

But you keep shaking your head. “No, she’s early. She’s too early- I need Luke, please- I can’t do this.”

“I’m gonna call Luke right now, everything’s going to be okay.”

Garcia pulls out her phone and dials your husband. She frowns when it goes to voicemail after a few rings.

By now, there’s a steady influx of tears spilling down your cheeks. You ask softly, “Why isn’t he answering?”

“Let me try Emily.”

You sigh a breath of relief when you hear Emily’s voice on the other end of the line.

“Emily-” Garcia gasps. “Where’s Luke?”

You overhear her, “He’s interrogating the Unsub- why? What’s the matter?”

“Y/N’s in labor, we need him.”

“Oh my god,” Emily says. There’s a brief pause before she tells Garcia, “I’ll be right back.”

“Pen-” you groan, another contraction washing over you. You hunch over in the chair and grab at the air, desperate for something to clamp down on.

She quickly extends her hand, letting you squeeze it tightly.

“Garcia?” you hear Luke’s sweet voice over the line. You want to call out for him, but you can’t form the words.

“Luke!” she exclaims, her concerned eyes never leaving you. “Luke, Y/N’s in labor- her water just broke. You have to come home.”

You gasp and bite down on your lip as the pain suddenly intensifies.

“Breathe,” she instructs you calmly. “Just breathe with me-”

“What?” you can hear the disbelief in his voice. “But- she’s only seven months pregnant- that's too early-”

The contraction passes, leaving you breathless, but you hold your hand out. Garcia picks up on your gesture and hands you the phone.

“Luke-” you’re on the verge of bursting into terrified tears. “I’m so scared.”

“Baby, it’s okay, you’re gonna be okay.” You can hear the worry in his voice as he soothes you. “I’m on my way, okay? I’m gonna take the jet, I’ll be there soon.”

“I don’t know if I can do this-”

“No, baby- of course you can, you’re so strong. You’re gonna be okay.”

“Please hurry,” you whimper.

“I will, I love you.”

You pass the phone to Garcia reluctantly. You wished you could stay on the line with him. Something about hearing his voice made you feel calmer.

You’re shaky and weak, but Garcia helps you all the way into the elevator and down into the parking garage. You hesitate before climbing into the front seat of her car.

“What’s wrong?” she asks, her hand gently placed on your elbow.

“I don’t want to get your seat all gross-”

You’re referring to the amniotic sac fluid currently soaking your pants.

“Are you serious?” she asks in disbelief. “If we don’t hurry you’re going to be giving birth in my car, so I think I’ll take my chances with the water.”

You nod quickly and climb into the front seat. While Garcia hurries around to the front, you clutch onto your baby bump tightly, wondering why the hell she was coming so early.

Garcia winds through traffic hurriedly, every so often she glances in your direction, trying to make sure you’re okay. “I guess they weren’t kicks,” you groan, as another contraction washes over you. You grip the door handle until your knuckles turn white and squeeze your eyes shut.

“Keep breathing,” Garcia soothes. She lets you take her hand across the console and doesn’t even wince when you squish it tightly in yours.

“I’m really scared, Penelope,” you whimper quietly, falling back against the seat when the contraction passes.

“I know,” Garcia clicks her tongue empathetically.

“Nothing’s ready. Not her room- we haven’t even set up her crib yet I’m not ready. I was supposed to have another 6 weeks to get ready-”

But Penelope is shaking her head. “You, right now, as you are, are going to be a great mother, okay? You’re ready.”

She sounded so sure, so confident in you- maybe she was right.

…

“Where is he?”

You’re sweating, exposed in a delivery room, and in more pain than you ever have been in your entire life.

Garcia’s stayed by your side the entire time, holding your hand and talking you through the pain. You’d been at the hospital about two hours now.

Currently, Garcia was dabbing your forehead with a wet washcloth. Your contractions were about 6 minutes apart. According to the doctor, you’d have to start pushing soon.

“I can’t do this without him. He should be here..”

“He’ll be here.”

You look up at her, exhausted and with fear in your eyes.

Garcia squeezes your shoulder. “And if he’s not here, then we’ll do this together, okay? You and me.”

“Promise you won’t leave?”

She nods. “I promise.”

…

Luke’s sprinting through the maze of a hospital trying desperately to find the delivery room number that Garcia texted him. He’s already been redirected by a couple of nurses, but every floor looked the same.

The door number came into sight when he turned the corner. He doesn’t hesitate before running the final distance between the two of you.

Luke swings the door open, only able to exhale when his eyes finally land on you.

You’re sitting up in your bed, hair tied up messily and cheeks flushed.

As soon as you see him, he sees your shoulder slump, like you’ve exhaled a breath of relief.

“Luke-”

His name is barely audible, but it’s enough.

“I’m here, baby,” he assures you, crossing the room in just two, large strides.

Garcia’s on the opposite side of your bed, clutching your hand tightly. After pressing his lips against your sweaty forehead, he looks at her and mouths, ‘thank you’.

She nods, “Of course, it was nothing.” She says it casually, like she didn’t just spend the last three hours comforting you through labor, doing his job for him, making sure you were safe.

It was everything.

Minutes after Luke arrives, the doctor tells you it’s time to push.

You flash Luke a scared glance, but he wraps an arm around your shoulder and kissed your temple, his lips feel comforting. “You can do this.”

You sigh, because like you said, being in his arms had a way of making you feel better.

...

When her soft cries fill the air, you’re finally able to breathe again. You collapse back against your pillow, exhausted and sweaty.

Luke’s still cupping your hand in his, his much larger fingers wrapping themselves around your skin. He’s looking towards the doctor, who’s holding in his arms, your baby girl.

“Is she okay?” you ask weakly.

Luke nods. “She’s small, but she’s so beautiful.”

Because she’s premature, you’re not able to hold her right away. Instead, she’s bundled up and taken to the NICU.

“No-” you protest pathetically. “I want her with me-”

“I know,” Luke whispers. “But they gotta keep her warm. They’re gonna put her in an isolette. They said we can visit as soon as you’re ready.”

Without hesitating, you attempt to sit up in bed. “I’m ready,” you declare weakly.

Luke’s hand pushes against your shoulder lightly in protest. “No, baby. You need rest-”

You found yourself growing angrier and angrier. You wanted to see your baby- wanted to hold her. But your body betrays you. You’re just so exhausted that you can’t even fight against him. Instead, you fall back against the pillow and huff out a choppy, frustrated sob.

“I know,” he says. He sits on the edge of your bed and reaches his hand out to brush some of the loose strands of hair away from your face. He leans forward and presses his lips to your sweaty forehead. “You did so good.” He whispers against your skin. “So, so good.”

You close your eyes against his touch, letting it wash over you.

“How small is she?” you ask when he finally breaks away.

Luke’s lips pressed together in a thin line and he didn't answer immediately. After a moment he sighs. “She’s small.”

“She’s gonna be okay though, right?” You look to Luke for all the answers. And he wants to give them to you. He wants to give everything to you.

He nods. “She’s gonna be okay. She’s a fighter, like her mom.”

…

Your daughter has to stay in the NICU for two, agonizingly long weeks. After a couple of days, you start to get some energy back. But seeing her in that box, and not being able to hold your baby when you wanted was taking its toll emotionally.

You and Luke stayed at the hospital for the entirety of the two weeks, never wanting to leave her alone.

It was painful and hard and exhausting, but together, it almost seemed bearable.

The team visited in shifts. Garcia arrived first with a giant bundle of pink balloons. Spencer and JJ brought magazines and books to keep you busy. Tara has a beautiful bouquet of flowers. Matt and Kristy brought you clothes to change into. Rossi and Emily brought various dishes for the two of you to eat. By the end of your two weeks, you felt incredibly grateful for your BAU family.

On the day that you and Luke were finally given the okay to take your daughter home, you found your nerves inching their way back into the forefront of your mind. It was an absolute relief that your premature daughter turned out to be healthy and safe and as beautiful as ever. But you thought about the unfinished room at home and your stomach twisted into knots.

“Where are we gonna put her?” you asked, imagining the crib you’d bought and never put together.

“I’ll put it together when we get home,” Luke assures you. “Can’t be that hard.”

You nodded, pushing the thought away. It didn’t matter. Not when you had this miracle of a baby in your arms.

When Luke pulled the car into the driveway of your house, you both stared at your home, hesitating before getting out of the car, as if it was just now hitting you how much everything was about to change.

Luke gives your hand a reassuring squeeze.

“Ready?” he asked.

You nod, everything was changing for the better. “Ready.”

You keep her cradled to your chest as you make your way through your home. The first order of business for Luke was to put together the crib, so your daughter would at least have a place to sleep.

You’d worry about the rest later.

But when you climb the stairs, you’re startled to see Garcia standing in your hallway, a cheeky grin on her face.

“Pen, hi,” you smile. You’d given her a key to take care of Roxy and water your plants while you were away at the hospital, you assume that was what she was here for.

“Hi,” she smiles wide. “Oh my goodness, is that my little bundle of joy! Let me see!”

You pass Penelope your daughter, watching adoringly as the two interact.

“Is someone else here?” Luke asks, peering down the hall when he hears voices.

Garcia nods, her signature, ear to ear smile spreading across her face. “Yeah, actually we have a surprise for you guys.” She passes your daughter back to you before turning.

“Who’s ‘we’?” Luke asks skeptically.

“Oh, just shut up and follow me,” she says. Her heels click as she walks down the hall towards the bedrooms.

When you turn the corner into your daughter's room, you can’t help but let out a loud gasp. Your jaw practically falls to the floor, surprised to see the entire team piled inside.

Two walls of the room were painted a beautiful shade of pink, while the other two were a soft gray. There were various decoratives hanging on the walls, tying everything together perfectly. There were also numerous shelves filled with an assortment of stuffed animals, toys, and books. And in the corner stood the hardwood crib that Luke and you had bought, completely put together and accented with a beautiful mobile hanging above it.

“Oh my god,” Luke gawks, clearly just as surprised as you.

“You guys-” you start, but you before you can finish your sentence you start to cry. “You guys did all this?”

The smiling faces of the rest of your team answer your question.

“How?” Is all you can manage to say.

“Well, I picked out the colors and the decor,” Garcia says, like it’s obvious. “Emily and Tara both helped paint.”

“And I've put my fair share of cribs together,” Matt chuckles, patting the edge of the darkwood. “It took no time at all.”

“JJ and Spencer got together the books and the stuffed animals,” Garcia motions towards the corner of toys.

“And I supervised,” Rossi smirked, making everyone laugh.

“Guys, this is too much.” Luke shakes his head in disbelief before exhaling and saying sincerely, “thank you.”

You nod in agreement. “This is… amazing. This is more than I could have ever dreamed of. I love it. She’s gonna love it,” you motion towards your now sleeping baby, mouth open and drooling on your chest.

The team knows how exhausted you and Luke are from being at the hospital for the past two weeks, so they don’t stay long. Slowly, they begin filing out of your house, offering both you and the new BAU baby with hugs and kisses goodbye.

Garcia’s the last to leave as she gathers her coat from your entryway chair.

“Pen, I know this was your idea,” you mumble. “You didn’t have to do all this. Thank you.”

She shakes her head, her eyes rolling as she hugs you gently. When she pulls away, she smirks, “If you thought I was going to let my Goddaughter come home to an unfinished room, you are underestimating how much I am going to spoil her.”

With that, she's out the door, leaving you and Luke and your newborn baby alone in the house for the first time as a family of three. Luke wraps an arm around your waist and pulls you into his side securely. You sigh, all of your anxiety and fears melting away. Being in his arms had a way of making you feel better.

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dabisburntsack · 4 years

Text

False Alarm

Fandom: My Hero Academia

Pairing(s): Shigaraki Tomura x GN!Reader

Genre: Fluff !

Synopsis: When your long time gaming partner brings up the topic of May Day you can’t help but romanticise the olden holiday with your ever growing crush on him.

Wordcount: 1784

This is apart of a sfw flower collab done with the bnharem discord server! I loved the prompt for this collab and can’t wait to see how everyones fics turned out!! Special thanks to @pluviophile-imagines for helping my ass through this as I had a mental breakdown٩( ᐛ )و

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* 　　 *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

⇾ signifies texting

May Day was a traditional holiday, one you wouldn’t have really heard of had your long time online gaming partner not brought it up in discussion as you fought against him to bring down the zombies on your screen.

“Yeah you pretty much leave a basket full of flowers with different meanings to them hanging on a loved ones door”

“I would have never pegged you for the romantic type” You replied amused.

“I’m- well, I’m... I would never do it-”

“You wouldn’t?”

“Pffft no, of course not”

“Shame, I think it's really romantic!”

The line went quiet, the only audible sound being the cock of guns and explosions going off in the game. You readjusted your mic wondering if he’d cut off when his voice came again; though quieter than the usual responses you would get.

“You think?”

“Yeah! Come onnn, tell me that isn’t the cutest thing ever”

The line paused again for the briefest moment, but when he finally continued speaking the conversation switched back to gameplay as if the short discussion about May Day had never occured. You shrugged and went back to chatting aimlessly about zombies yourself, though a small part of you may have wanted to carry on with the romance talk.

You had known the player ‘Decay_God’ for going on 3 years now and were as close as online friends could be. From what you’d gathered over the years, Tenko worked at a bar and had a shit ton of roommates. Though he constantly went on about how annoying they were, you could tell he cared deeply for them. He was passionate about what he did, whether it be his job (you didn’t know what exactly it was, just that his mood in your games would be whether or not he had received good news from his end) or his game play.

In the beginning, you didn’t really like him or his attitude; both being highly ranked in the gaming community you would constantly butt heads and his childish behaviour of when you would steal a victory off him annoyed you to no end. But as it went on, his temper tantrums died down and once you got to know him, you found his quips and wit to be quite entertaining. Now two years later, you would look forward to getting home from a stressful day at work to endlessly chatter about whatever topic was of the day.

You couldn’t lie, you had garnered a bit of a crush on him.

You didn’t even know what this man looked like. He could be a catfish! An old perverted dude! Hell he could even be a criminal and you’d be none the wiser! Although, if you were being honest with yourself… you couldn’t help but make the obvious connection to a certain infamous villain. One that happened to have pale blue hair and a decaying quirk. Even in personality they seemed interchangeable, from what you had seen on the news he was also akin to throwing childish temper tantrums and scratching at his neck when frustrated (a habit you regularly scolded Tenko for when you heard the telltale sound nails scraping along side the column of his neck.)

Whenever you did think about it though you stopped yourself, come on as if you would be gaming with Shig- no, you weren’t even going to say his name. So they had a few similarities, this was a whole villain compared to your sweet gaming partner. Dumb conspiracy theories aside, you couldn’t help the small flutter of your heart when he would say your name in a teasing manner or when he praised you for a particularly hard kill.

As you logged off for the night you laid your head against the wall your bed was propped next to and stared at the blank ceiling, your mind drifting back to the May Day conversation. A blushing Tenko came to your mind, his face obscured by a large hood, nervously rubbing at the back of his head before handing you a large bouquet of flowers. Your cheeks flushed and you slapped at them to stop yourself from heating up, vanishing the mental image mid thought.

Okay, so maybe it wasn’t as much of a small crush as you wanted it to be.

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* 　　 *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

After having a three day break, getting ready for work so early in the morning proved more effort than it should have been. Still trying to blink the sleep out of your eyes, you dragged your dazed body to your front door. You checked yourself for your belongings as you unlocked it, but as you took your first step out your foot landed in...ash?

You lifted your shoe to inspect the little decaying bits stuck to it, looking down you realised there was a pile of decayed dust on your doorstep.

You paled.

Instantly you were on high alert, tearing your foot from the contaminated shoe and snapping a picture of the evidence. You placed the shoe in a bag for further examination and bolted your door before texting your boss, the number four hero: Edgeshot.

Having the job of a personal assistant to such a high ranked hero meant you were used to lives being threatened. So far it had never happened to you and although this was small you could never be too sure. With the inside information you had, Edgeshot had always told you to be aware that someone may pull something sooner or later. It wasn’t completely out of the blue.

After seeing your message to your boss had been delivered, you reached out for the metal baseball bat you kept in the storage cupboard under the stairs, your quirk not really suited for defence purposes as it was made for technological aspects.

Checking every nook and cranny of your small apartment you didn’t see anything out of the ordinary and flopped back onto the sofa. Sighing, you ran a hand through your hair before going through your phone, checking the news, any odd sightings, anything you should possibly be alert for.

However crime rates seemed to be low and the only recent stories were from three days ago. Still not having received a text back from Edgeshot, you automatically switched to your messages with Tenko to type out the events of your morning.

I think I just got threatened lol

Instant response.

WHAT?!

If you don’t hear from me in 24 hours call the police :DD

Y/N

Ok okaY, damn you’re such a buzzkill

There was a pile of ash on my doorstep this morning, with my work you know I can never be too careful

I’m fine though, I already told my boss

You waited as three dots appeared signifying he was typing but after a while they stopped. You furrowed your brows as they started up and stopped multiple times. After a full five minutes (during which time you grew bored and changed apps) a ping popped up.

With how long he had taken to type you were expecting a lengthy paragraph, what you weren’t expecting was a simple:

Oh? That’s all?

Yeah

You placed down your phone before another ping sounded out.

Are you sure they weren’t flowers

How the hell did you come to that conclusion

The typing ceased once more and you were left to your thoughts. What the hell did he mean by that? How did he come up with flowers out of all things like-

May Day?

You leapt from your seat, stumbling to look at the calendar attached to your kitchen wall, scanning the dates crossed off before turning the page and realising it was indeed the first of May. It surely couldn’t be a coincidence Tenko had brought up the holiday just yesterday. So he’d brought you flowers, because you said it was romantic… and he’d… dusted them. Dusted them, with his quirk, because he was…

Tenko could not be Shigaraki Tomura.

You did not have a crush on Shigaraki fucking Tomura.

Luckily at that moment the chime of your phone's ringtone going off distracted you. Looking at the caller ID you breathed a sigh of relief to see that it was Edgeshot. You could finally get to the bottom of this instead of drawing up ridiculous conclusions.

Edgeshot’s calm voice came through the other end of the line, stern but familiar. It seemed you’d been right to take the situation seriously, or so he assured you. But even as he talked to you, asking if you’d seen anything or if there was any other evidence of someone watching you, you couldn’t shake the feeling that it hadn’t meant anything at all.

Of course, if your gut instinct was right and you’d been gaming (and falling for) Shigaraki Tomura for three whole years and he’d been trying to romance you then that was. Definitely something. You just weren’t entirely sure what that something was.

You’d been talking to Edgeshot for nearly two hours when a knock sounded on your front door. Had he come by? What was the point of ringing, then? And wouldn’t he have told you?

You made your way over to the door and opened it expecting the sight of your boss, but instead you were met with a large bouquet of flowers perched on your doorstep. You looked up just in time to see a mess of unruly blue hair tucked into a black hoodie turning rapidly round the corner.

“False alarm,” you said quickly, ending the call on pure impulse and making a dash after the stranger.

You weren’t entirely sure what the plan was. It seemed more and more likely that you were right with each new development. What were you going to do if your gamer buddy really was an S-rank villain? Would you still be interested? Would he? He’d gone through the trouble of getting you flowers not just once but twice, and honestly… the idea that he’d been so nervous the first time was kind of endearing.

That was a cute image, him standing at your door, so worried that he didn’t even notice he’d dusted the flowers in his hand as he set them down, probably running away quickly so you wouldn’t see him.

You reached out to grab the sleeve of your fleeing visitor and as they whirled round your suspicion after all this time was proven correct. You were speaking the moment his eyes met yours, all hesitation suddenly gone.

“You can’t just leave me flowers and run off like that, what if I thought it was another threat?”

Shigaraki’s scarlet eyes widened as they met your own.

“Hey Tenko” you grinned.

#sanaa writes #bnha x reader #shigaraki tomura #shigaraki x reader #shigaraki fluff #boku no hero academia #bnha #bnha imagines #league of villains #league of villians x reader #my hero academia #mha #mha imagines #mha x reader #shigaraki x y/n #bnharem #bnharem collab

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irondadfics · 4 years

Note

Do you have any good fics with mainly Peter and happy? I feel like I don’t see enough of that relationship

Here you go lovelies! For more fics check out our Happy Hogan tag!

Peter & Happy-centric

A Certain Kind of Stubbornness by friendlyneighborhoodsecretary @friendlyneighborhoodsecretary

"There was something different about being a superhero's right-hand man. Happy knew it in his gut. It bred a certain kind of protective loyalty that didn't spring from anything less than looking after someone the rest of the world was out to get on a regular basis. A fierce doubtfulness about the motives of anyone who so much as looked sideways at them. A withering dislike of anyone who stood in the way of protecting them. A lack of trust in anyone but yourself." Regardless of whether you're Forehead of Security or The Guy in the Chair, it isn't easy when your best friend's a superhero.

“Told You He’s A Good Kid” (series) by friendlyneighborhoodsecretary @friendlyneighborhoodsecretary

Happy Hogan may not exactly be the cool uncle, but he tries his best. A collection of moments in which Happy looks after the kid his boss/best friend accidentally acquired and who Happy himself would definitely not/maybe/absolutely would fight a Titan for.

Good Company by friendlyneighborhoodsecretary @friendlyneighborhoodsecretary

There are certain things even Peter Parker doesn't talk about on those endless commutes upstate; Ben Parker is one of them.

Weekend at Happy’s by Marvelous_Writer @marvelous-writer

With May away, Peter stays at Happy’s for the weekend but things don’t go as planned when Peter suddenly gets sick.

we're going on a trip (in our favourite rocket ship) by jaybaybay @jaybaybay-01

“Mm.. S’ark?” Peter mumbled and rolled onto his side, cuffs clinking against the metal headboard as he shifted.

“Hey, Pete, you with me now?” Happy's heart was filled with relief at the sound of Peter's voice. It was heavily slurred from all the drugs, but the kid was coherent enough at last to form syllables. It was music to Happys ears. “Tony’s not here yet, but he’s on his way.”

Peters glassy eyes found Happy's face and he smiled; chunks of vomit still evident in his teeth. “ ‘e iss?”

“Yeah, cause you hit your panic button.” Peter frowned suddenly and his glazed eyes lazily trailed to his now bare wrist. Happy startled, “You… you hit your panic button, right Peter?” Peter swallowed slowly and let his eyes droop shut. Happy wished that he imagined the slight shake of his moppy brown head. “Why didn’t you hit your panic button?!” Happy hissed through his teeth.

Peter exhaled, “Wasn’ panicked.” Happy's brain short circuited.

“You weren’t- you… Peter we’ve been kidnapped.” Happy couldn’t comprehend it. This was very, very bad. This whole time Happy had been trusting that Peter had hit that stupid button on his watch and now…

Well, now they were screwed.

you'll be, kid, a man, kid, if nothing goes wrong by butmomilovemyboys

“Promise you’re real?” He choked out, his voice small. Happy nodded. “I promise. Really.” Peter nodded back, clearing his throat. He pulled away himself, wiping his eyes on his eyes on the bright orange shirt he wore. Happy put a hand on Peter’s shoulder. “God, what happened? Why are we in the Netherlands?” (And he almost asks where Tony is. Sometimes his brain doesn’t catch up.) ~ SMFFH SPOILERS!!

This Can’t Be Real by Howlingdawn

FAR FROM HOME SPOILERS AHEAD. After Mysterio's final act, Happy finds and reassures Peter that they'll protect him. Truth is, though, he's just as scared as the kid.

Sacred Spaces by FerretShark @ferretshark

May doesn’t think it’s a good idea, but Happy persists. He’ll make it a great idea. Him and the kid, five days in the great outdoors. It will be fine.

“We’ll do all the camping things. What’s not to love about camping?” Happy asks.

May pauses mid-fold on a pair of her jeans, “I don’t know. He’s just not an outdoorsy kind of kid.”

regret by peter_parkerson @peter-parkerson

The kid’s annoying.

It’s a fact. The kid talks too much, too fast, and it’s annoying. That’s just how it is.

He wishes that was a good excuse for ignoring the calls. And the texts. And the incessant, unnecessarily long voicemails. He wishes he'd kept a closer eye on the kid because then maybe he wouldn't have missed his own Homecoming to fight his date's dad. He wishes his negligence hadn't indirectly caused a world of trauma for a high school sophomore.

He can't fix it now, but he can at least try to make amends.

Peter seems like a pretty forgiving kid.

Tough Love by samos7

Peter calls Happy in distress after May doesn't come back to the apartment one night. Happy doesn't know how to deal with emotions.

driving lessons by sapphirestark @sapphirestark

Happy cleared his throat. “Right then. Next, gears.” He gestured towards the console and Peter’s eyes widened.

“I’m learning stick shift?” All Peter knew about manual transmission was that it was way more difficult and much harder to get right. “Happy, I don’t know –“

“If you can’t drive stick shift, you can’t drive.”

Irondad w/a lot of Peter & Happy

I'm Not Your Babysitter by Mrs_N_Uzumaki

“I can’t take this anymore, Tony.” The end of the rope that was Happy’s already little patience has been reached. “I am an asset manager, not a babysitter.”

(A "missing scene" in Homecoming.)

I Really Need Somebody To Call My Own by losingmymindtonight @losingmymindtonight

Tony didn’t even know when he started getting jealous of Happy. It had been nice, at first, watching him and Peter get so close. Tony couldn’t be around all the time, and Happy still lived in the city, mostly to be close to May, so it was reassuring to have someone watching the kid’s back while he was watching Morgan’s. It had also helped, in a cynical sort of way, that Peter struggled with the transition. After all, he’d come back from the Snap to his aunt in an entirely new relationship. Not only that, she was in a relationship with someone the kid knew. There were bound to be growing pains, and Tony was the one Peter always went to with them, ranting through video chats at 2:00 am. It had made him feel important, like he was becoming part of the kid’s structural foundation. And then Happy had moved in with the Parkers, which had thrown everyone for a loop, and the months had blended together, and suddenly Happy was an integral part of Peter’s structural foundation, too. -- Or, Tony questions his role in Peter's life. Naturally, he spirals.

Not-Uncle Tony by Jen27ny @jen27ny

“I just… got some news.” “Bad news?” For a second, he thinks Happy is about to say yes. Instead, he turns around to him, eyes full of a nervousness Tony didn’t know the man is capable of. “I’m going to be a father.”

~~~~~

This is the story of Peter Hogan. Yes, that's right. Happy is Peter's biological father, and Tony is there for the entire ride.

Damage Control by PechoraFlow

This was bad. His phone rang, echoing around the small bathroom and causing him to flinch. He answered the phone and put it on speaker without looking at the Caller ID. He grabbed an extra roll of toilet paper, thinking that, if he had a prayer of making it home, he had to at least staunch the blood flow. “Hello?” “Hey, kid, are you still here?” This was worse.

Or, after landing the plane on Coney Island in "Spider-Man: Homecoming", Peter isn't as unscathed as he likes to think he is.

#fic rec list #happy hogan

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greekowl87 · 3 years

Text

Fic: Embracing Parenthood 5/?

Get caught up: (1) | (2) | (3) (4) or AO3

A/N: I’ve been writing while trying to figure out my depression but it’s not as much as I would like. I finally got this done and have two other things I am working on. Looking at episodes 4-D and Lord of the Flies, I decided to consolidate this chapter and do a focus on “Lord of the Flies”. I’m still not 100% on the direction this will be taking. I borrowed lines from the episode so, just an fyi. I used the transcript from Inside the X. Bit of light smut at the end.

Tagging @baronessblixen @suitablyaggrieved @today-in-fic @improlificinsarcasm

After a few more months, they seemed to finally be hitting their stride. This new...whatever it was...took some getting used to for Mulder and Scully. Aside from the one time they caught William’s mobile spinning under its own accord, they had not caught anything else. Scully was fine with this and shut down any attempt Mulder made to bring it up. She kept telling herself that their son was just fine and normal like any other baby. After a couple of weeks, Mulder gave up. It became an unspoken agreement between them. Aside from this, things at the academy and x-files remained quiet.

Agent Reyes settled in an apartment in Foggy Bottom. A few x-files have been solved. Despite Agent Reyes’s claim of an interdimensional serial killer nearly ending his life, Doggett was still alive. Mulder and Scully settled into their teaching roles at the academy, William was growing in size, and they both were beginning to believe that they were getting that happy ending that they both deserved.

On a regular Wednesday afternoon, as Mulder graded quizzes in his office, he heard a light knocking at the door. “Come in,” he called looking up from his desks.

Scully smiled at him. “How’s the grading, Agent Mulder?”

“I want to know your secret,” he confessed. He held out his hand, offering a chair across from him. She surprised him instead by taking his hand, squeezing it, and kissed him deeply. “Well, hello to you too.”

“I like this, Scully.”

“I’m glad. I have to go to New Jersey though. Agents Doggett and Reyes need my medical opinion about a matter.”

“Do you need me to tag along?”

She didn’t answer his question. She sat in the chair across from him. “Teaching suits you, Mulder. Are you happy?”

“I can do without the grading,” he confided. “So, back to the case? Is this what...for an afternoon?”

“Maybe.”

“Maybe?”

“Maybe. I’m sure it’s fairly straightforward. A teenager was found with half of the head collapsed in, and many flies came swarming out.”

“Flies? Is this a case of Lord of the Flies? Or Jeff Goldum’s The Fly?”

“Thankfully not. I just suspect something weird. However, I need to travel to New Jersey to lend a helping hand.”

“You never answered my question. Do you need me to tag along?”

“No. I’ve already called my mother to let her know. I’m taking a car from the pool and I’ll be stopping by the apartment before making my way to New Jersey.”

Mulder shifted uncomfortably in his chair. The suddenness of this news made him feel very uncomfortable. He did not have much time to sort through these new feelings as Scully continued. “It’s a three-hour drive from Washington. I’ll be spending the night up there. I should be back in a day or two.”

Mulder cleared his throat. “Just like that?”

She titled her head. “Why? Is there something wrong with it?”

“No,” he lied. He fiddled with the pen in front of him, rolling it back and forth on his desk. “I’ll pick up William from your mother.”

“It’s only for 48 hours,” she said.

“It’s not a big deal, Scully. Do you not have faith in me taking care of William?”

“I didn’t say that but you are pouting.”

“I’m not pouting. Look, I probably need a guy’s night anyway.”

“The Gunmen?” She asked.

“I was just thinking about me, Will, and Plan 9 From Outer Space. You know a guy’s night.”

“Maybe pick a less depressing film?”

“We’ll be fine, mom. Promise.” Scully arched her eyebrow, clearly unconvinced. “Promise, Scully. Nothing will go wrong.”

Her cellphone started to ring and she sighed, looking at the caller ID. “It’s Agent Doggett,” she sighed. She got up from her chair and hastily kissed his cheek as she left. “I’ll call you when I get there. Love you.”

“Love you too.” He replied, watching her retreating form.

As the emotions welled in his chest. Mulder pushed the rest of the ungraded quizzes to the side and began to search for movies. As a psychologist, he knew pushing his emotions aside and burying them was unhealthy. He and Scully spent seven years doing that. Unfortunately, he was no longer a bachelor and had a baby to worry about as well.

* * * * * *

Traffic was a beast in driving the length of I-95 to Quantico to drive the hour to Annapolis to Marget Scully’s house. Two accidents just added to Mulder’s sour mood. As he sat in traffic, he tried to distract himself by switching it to NPR and ultimately switched it off. As traffic inched towards Maryland, he finally identified and named just a few of the emotions that were swirling in his chest. Jealousy. Feelings of inadequacy. Sadness.

He sighed, finally sighting the exit to Mrs. Scully’s and signaled the right turn signal. As he pulled off, he was bitterly reminded of the initial shock and awe he felt coming back from the dead. He struggled to find this place in a Twilight Zone-like universe where he no longer had the x-files and had Scully seven months pregnant. They struggled to find their footing. Mulder remembered feeling left out and bitter that Scully had a new partner in Doggett. He didn’t necessarily dislike this man. He was a good agent, just like Scully had said, but he was the one investigating x-files with Scully. Mulder wasn’t. He didn’t mind Agent Reyes either. He liked her and thought her addition to the x-files office in place of Scully would help balance the skeptical Doggett. But that didn’t stop him from feeling jealous and left out.

As he slowed, pulling into a residential neighborhood, he saw Mrs. Scully’s white sedan in the driveway and the lights throughout the house. He jogged up the front steps and raised his hand to knock. Mrs. Scully opened the door before his knuckles could rap against the wood. “Fox, I’m glad to see you weren’t caught up in traffic too badly!”

“I still hit a couple of accidents, Mrs. Scully.” He forced a smile. “Were you expecting someone?”

“What? Oh, no! I saw your headlights in the driveway. Come in! I was just about to pull out dinner.”

“I couldn’t…” he stammered out of instinct.

“Nonsense. Besides, William will be very happy to see you.”

Oh yeah, he thought, I’m a father. “You need to get past the formalities, Fox. Don’t you think Maggie will do? You are the father to my grandson after all.” Mrs. Scully was already pulling on his hand, tugging him inside before he could put up a fight. “Besides, as much as I love my daughter, Dana does not know how to cook.”

“Actually, she’s quite good,” Mulder defended.

Mrs. Scully chuckled to herself. “What I meant is she doesn’t know how to cook for a family. I raised four children by myself for the most part when the Captain was at sea. Now that William is here, I’m not going to dismiss the possibility. Take off your shoes, Fox.”

Mulder slid off his polished Oxford shoes and loosened his tie. “The possibility of what?”

Maggie stopped and smiled. “Of what could be. Come on. I bet William will be excited to see you.”

Mulder followed Mrs. Scully into the kitchen and saw his son light up. William began to babble happily and stretch his arms for his father. He smiled and bent down to kiss his forehead. “I think he is going to have Scully’s eyes.”

“They might still turn brown. I don’t know, Fox. I think William is beginning to look like you. Have a seat. Do you want a beer with dinner?”

“Water would be fine.”

Mulder sat closest to William as Mrs. Scully served them. “William was fine today,” she said. “Dana called and let me know. If it is more convenient, I can come to Georgetown and watch William tomorrow if you want.”

Mulder nodded and replied, “I would appreciate that. I wish I could simply take the time off.”

Mrs. Scully played with her shepherd’s pie. And how are you feeling, Fox with Dana in New Jersey and you here?”

He was caught off guard with the question. “What do you mean?”

“Seven years you two were practically glued together. She would always answer your calls. Now you’re here and she's out in the field.” She paused. “I know you two had some difficulties when you came back.”

He chuckled hollowly. “Not every day you come back from the dead.”

“Exactly. She was alone for six months.”

“I didn’t leave her intentionally,” he defended quietly.

“I’m not saying that you did. I’m not my oldest son, Fox.”

“I’m that bad?”

“Worse than Dana,” she chuckled. “I know what it’s like to feel left behind and on the sidelines. I imagine you felt some sort of jealousy with Agent Doggett when you first met him?”

“I, uh, punched him in the jaw.”

Mrs. Scully nodded. “Dana mentioned something about that. The point is, Fox, I know what is like feeling out of the loop when your partner is out doing something. I felt the same way when Bill was out to sea and I was left to raise four kids of my own. He would joke that I was the admiral in the family.” She gave a small smile. “And you find yourself in a similar situation.”

“I guess so,” he whispered. He pushed his food around. “Even though we’re both teaching at the academy, it doesn’t feel the same.”

“You could always propose.”

William squealed eagerly and threw something across the table making Mulder jump. “Excuse me?”

Mrs. Scully shrugged. “I just figured after 8 years, a child, and sharing an apartment...it’s time you make it permanent, Fox.”

“I…”

She held up her hand. “You don’t have to say anything. Just think about it. In the meantime, are you sure I can’t get you anything else right now?”

“Yeah,” he stammered. “Yeah, I’m fine.”

As it neared 8 o’clock, Mulder gathered his son and Mrs. Scully piled leftovers into a brown grocery bag to walk him out. “I’ll be up by 10 tomorrow. What time will you be home?”

“About six,” he replied, shifting William in his arms. “Scully said she might be home by tomorrow.”

“Well, I’ll set one extra place at the table.”

Mulder, still feeling insecure, interrupted. “You don’t have to, Mrs. Scully. I can take care of William. I don’t want to trouble you.”

“Nonsense,” she dismissed. “I love seeing my grandson.” She kissed Mulder’s cheek goodbye. “And I don’t do these things because I pity you or think you unworthy of Dana, Fox. I do it out of love for you and William. Now, I’ll see you tomorrow!”

As the door closed behind him and Mulder tucked William into his car seat, his thoughts became distracted yet again. Scully did need him, right? He hadn’t brushed aside. And what did Mrs. Scully insinuate with their dinner conversation?

* * * * * *

A few states away in Manahawkin, New Jersey, Scully retired from examining the half-collapsed head of “Captain Dare” and the persistent flirting of Dr. Rocky Bronzino earlier than she anticipated. She politely declined the dinner invitation from Agents Doggett and Reyes as well. She found her attention drifting towards various journal articles about the Spanish fly and their mating rituals. After a few hours, Scully abandoned her research.

She tried to take a bath and felt distracted. Her mind couldn’t wrap itself around the facts of the case. As she dressed for bed, she sleepily looked at the motel clock and saw it was nine o’clock. How could she have let time get away from her? Without a second thought, she found her cell and called the apartment’s landline. When there was no answer, she quickly called Mulder’s cell phone. He answered the third thing.

“Mulder,” he greeted automatically.

She could hear him hiding a yawn in his voice. “Mulder, it’s me,” she spoke softly. “Did I catch you at a bad moment?”

“No,” he sighed. “I just put William to bed. A late bath, a lot of crying, and a partially read bedtime story and he is down for the count. He misses you terribly.”

“I bet,” she said. Scully shifted the files around. “And what about you?”

“What about me?” He yawned again.

“How are you?”

“Tired,” he admitted simply. “And very much missing you. Your bed is too big without you. But never mind me. Tell me about the case?”

“I am dealing with a human head half-collapsed in with flies exploding it before I arrived. Agents Doggett and Reyes are chasing down a teenager suspect.”

“Oh,” he hummed. “Bugs. Is this like those teenagers from Pittsfield, Virginia, Scully?”

“Not at all,” she said. “I’m not entirely sure if this is an x-file yet. I mean it has bugs. It’s all about the bugs, Mulder.”

“Washington state. One of our first cases.”

“Well, no one has been found cocooned in the web.”

“Yet.”

“Yet,” she repeated. Scully sighed and looked at the empty side of the motel bed. “I should be done by tomorrow evening. Hey, we have the weekend at least. One perk of teaching at the academy: normal 9-5 jobs.”

“Unless you get called away on another case.” Scully could hear a hint of bitterness in his voice. “But yeah, I’ll look forward to it.”

“Mulder, are you okay?”

She could hear the phone shifting on his end. “Hm? Yeah. I was just getting the blankets pulled down. I thought about putting William in the bassinet but I guess he needs to learn about sleeping in his room.”

Scully groaned inwardly. “You’re not helping,” she told him.

“What did I do?”

There was a weariness in his voice she could not place. “Mulder, what’s wrong? What aren’t you telling me?”

“Nothing, nothing. Everything is okay. I’m handling it just fine.”

She heard his voice rise defensively and the baby crying in the background. “Look, Scully. I’m going to check on William. I’ll talk to you later okay?”

“Okay but…” Mulder hung up the phone before Scully had a chance to reply. “Great.”

Scully looked back at the clock, wondering if she should call her partner back. She felt hurt about the shortness in her voice. What had happened? Did her mother say something to Mulder? Did she do something? Did something else happen to William that he wasn’t telling her? In the end, she decided not to call him back lest she wake the baby again and cause Mulder to lose any sleep. As she settled in the motel bed, she turned onto her side and swept her arm up and down the empty side. She missed being away from him and their son.

Three hours away in Georgetown, Mulder, unable to sleep found himself on the couch in front of the television. William held contently against his chest. William sleepily watched his father as Mulder settled on TCM for a black and white horror film. A small gurgling brought Mulder’s attention back to his son. “We’ll just keep daddy sleeping on the couch a secret from mom,” he said.

William yawned and twisted his head towards Mulder’s chest. “Well, the important thing is that you’re comfortable,” Mulder continued. “You’re just like your mother; she can sleep anywhere too. I think her favorite place is to fall asleep on me.”

He shifted his attention back to the television and then back at his son. “I can’t help but feel forgotten,” he confessed to William. “I mean, your mom was all by herself when she found out she was pregnant with you and I was abducted. She got a new partner.” Mulder thought of Doggett’s straight-laced demeanor. “He is just the opposite of what I expected. And of course, I am jealous of him. He was the one watching Scully’s back because I ran off to chase down a damn UFO. Look at what that got me, Will. Six feet under.” He looked down at his son. “Does that make me a bad person?”

William met him with silence.

“Well, I value your opinion so don’t hold back,” he told the baby. More silence except for a sleepy blink. “I think that is why I was so distant tonight. I’m jealous. I’m upset. I feel left behind.” Mulder watched his son grow sleepier. He had Scully’s blue eyes. “I feel like she’s moved on without me. I have since I came back. Even with you and all your glory, bud, I still feel inadequate.” William grabbed a fistful of Mulder’s t-shirt as his eyes grew heavier. “Are you trying to reassure me?” Mulder chuckled slightly. “I wish I could tell Scully how I felt.”

One day, he promised himself. As William drifted off to sleep, Mulder found himself wide awake still, his thoughts going to Scully and the bitterness he felt over the fact she was out in the field and he felt left behind.

* * * * *

Back in New Jersey, Scully left the motel to head straight to the medical examiner’s office. Agents Doggett and Reyes had texted her that they were going to follow up with some matters at the high school before meeting her at the medical examiner. On her way there, Scully tried to call Mulder again first at his office and then his cell. This was the second time since last night that he hadn’t answered his phone. Trying to dismiss the growing insecurities into the back of her mind, she tried to focus on the case instead. As Scully strolled into the main medical lab, it was much to her dismay that Dr. Bronzino was waiting for her.

“Dr. Scully,” the overly tanned scientist greeted. “How are you this fine morning?”

“Well,” she greeted with some reserve. “Have Agents Doggett and Reyes arrived yet?”

“Not at all! But I’ve been examining the flies that exploded from that young man’s skull. It’s quite fascinating really. Being a forensic pathologist, you might find this particularly interesting. Have you ever heard of the coffins fly?”

Scully took a step back and forced a smile. “I can’t say I have.”

“Well, they’re amazing creatures. A female coffin fly has been known to bury its way through over two meters of dirt just to lay its eggs on the cadaver. That is the equivalent of a human digging two miles into the ground.” He flashed her a dazzling smile of whitened teeth. “Isn’t it amazing of the lengths one will go to procreate?”

“Fascinating,” she replied quickly, “but what does this have to do with the victim?”

“Oh,” the entomologist exclaimed, “all the flies that came for the young victim’s head were female. There is probably nothing to it but isn't it fascinating?”

Scully’s mind was already firing and meaning connections. “It is. And it could be nothing or it could mean everything. Did you set any aside for the examination?”

Dr. Bronzino waved to the other end of the room where the microscope was. “I was going to prepare some samples to examine.”

She moved towards the microscope. “Why don’t I start on that and you do whatever it is that you are doing, Dr. Bronzino”

“Excellent suggestion, Dr. Scully! Divide and conquer! I like the sound of that!”

“I’m sure,” she answered.

“Which reminds me. I’m going to run back to my lab real quickly to gather another instrument of my invention. I’ll be back.”

“I’ll be here,” she said.

Scully was secretly glad to see him retreat as she set to work. She laid out her research of flies that she had started the night before and her morning coffee. She paused, trying to collect her thoughts before she delved into the day’s work, however, she couldn’t. Her thoughts kept going back to the abrupt conversation that she had with Mulder the night before. He sounded distant and aloof. She was reminded of his jealousy when he came back from the dead. She found her phone and dialed his office at Quantico. At nine a.m., he should have been strolling right then. However, it went straight to messages. She hung up before she could leave one. Growing disgruntled, Scully called the Georgetown apartment. To her surprise, it was her mother that answered.

“Hello?” Her mother answered.

“Hi, mom,” she greeted quickly. “What are you doing at the apartment?”

“Oh, I thought I would save Fox driving to drop off William with me this morning,” she said. “One less hassle to do. I also picked you and Fox up some groceries that you desperately needed.”

“We were fine,” she said. “Where is Mulder? Is everything okay?”

“Yeah,” her mom replied vaguely. “I found him sleeping on the couch last night with the tv on. William must have kept him up all night.”

She felt a twinge of regret twist her heart. “Is he okay?”

“I guess so. He seemed fine and left for the office with no issue. Why? Is there something that I should be aware of?”

“No, no,” Scully said. She pushed the thoughts of insecurity deep down. Now was not the time. “He seemed distracted last night. We only chatted briefly. Is William okay?”

“He’s a fat, happy baby who can sleep through anything. Just like you were. I’m here until Fox comes home if you need anything. Do you want me to tell Fox that you called?”

“No, no. Everything’s fine.”

Her mother was silent on the other end. “Well, if you do need anything, Dana, I’m here with William. Love you.”

“Love you too, mom.”

She hung up her phone and tried to ignore the new signs that taunted her. Nothing was fine except she was not going to say anything. Scully sat at the microscope and began to work.

A couple of hours later, Dr. Rocky Bronzino rejoined her with a crude-looking invention to he promised to give a giant break in the case. She half-listened to ramble on about the various mating rituals of insects until she noticed a pattern emerging with the insects. It took Bronzino to confirm her suspicions and identify the peculiar fact about the case. As she continued to examine the flys, at a quarter till noon, Agents Reyes and Doggett walked in. Scully looked at both of them and announced, “I’m glad you’re here. I think we just got our first real break in the case.”

“What did you find?” Reyes asked.

“Well, it's what the entomologist Rocky Bronzino found. The flies that ate at the brain and skull of the victim are all female. Every last one of them.” Scully motioned to a fly under the microscope as she spoke.

Doggett looked towards Monica Reyes and asked, “Exactly how is that a break”

Scully thought for a moment and answered, “Well, what are the chances of that?”

Agent Reyes clarified, “You mean that the absence of males suggests there's a reason for the attack. Behaviourally.”

“Well, something biological is going on. Whether it's hormonal or chemical something has caused these bugs to attack,” Scully theorized.

Doggett added, “Or a need to express themselves.”

Scully asked, “To what?”

Agent Doggett continued, “This is a kid that calls himself "Sky Commander Winky." Agent Reyes and I were interviewing him as a suspect when this happened.” He showed photos of the victim’s back were the words ‘DUMB ASS’ shined a bright, red welt. “The paramedics arrived and treated him for an aggressive attack of bodily lice.”

She took the photos to examine them closer. “Hmm. Lice are not altogether uncommon in a school environment.”

Doggett snorted. “Except that these are better spellers than most of the kids.”

“Maybe they stayed late for after-school lessons,” she snorted. “So what are you saying? That this is just another dumb ass stunt?”

Reyes interjected, “Well, that was my first thought. But the victim here was just too freaked out by this incident to make me believe he'd staged this. Which leads me to think that while you may be right about this being a matter of biology, someone is directing the biology.” She paused. “Maybe you might want to consult Mulder?”

“Why?” Doggett asked. “These are bugs we are talking about.”

“And how does one direct bugs?” She added.

Reyes shrugged and replied, “I don't know how but we've been running down a long list of witnesses.” She passed Scully the rest of the photographs. “A loner who was present at every dumb ass stunt and who had a run-in with this kid Winky at school just prior to the lice attacking. His name is Dylan Lokensgard. We're going to want to talk to him.”

“He seems like a promising start,” Scully replied. “Dr. Bronzino should be back soon. He promised to bring a piece of equipment that will help break the case.”

“We’ll be back then. Call us if you have anything. Let’s head back, Monica.”

“I’ll call you when I have something,” Scully replied.

She watched the two agents retreating. She glanced at the clock on the wall and did the math in her head. She probably wasn’t going to be home that evening that she had promised.

* * * * * *

Having Mrs. Scully watch William in Georgetown instead of Maryland was a bigger relief than Mulder had realized. Although he hit traffic on the way to Quantico, the extra hour of not driving had put him in a somewhat fairer mood. However, as the morning dragged on and he did not hear anything from Scully began to sour his fair mood. By lunch, he was mad. Well not mad, but pouting and being gloomy. If Scully were here, she would have chewed him out and told him to pull his head out of his ass. But that was just it. Scully wasn’t here to do that.

As noon droned on, Mulder heard a light knocking at his door and looked up with some surprise to see A.D. Skinner standing in the doorway. “Wow, Mulder. Even having an office out of the basement and looking depressed as hell.”

“And it’s good to see you too, sir.” Mulder rose to greet the man and offered his hand. “I suspect you did not come down to comment on my office.”

“No.” Skinner paused. “I had a meeting I needed to attend. I wanted to check in on you and see how things were. You know, just to see if you threaten to burn down the establishment yet.”

“Haha,” Mulder said lamely. “No. Things are normal. Just perfectly normal.”

“And you are a terrible liar. Why don’t you come to lunch, Mulder? Get your head out of your ass and get some fresh air.”

“I’m fine where I am,” he said.

“And I know you well enough to know when you’re lying. You’re jealous aren’t you?”

“About what?”

“I know Scully’s out in the field,” Skinner stated, “and you’re not.”

“Way to rub it in.” Mulder glanced at his computer clock and relented. “Fine, fine. It isn’t like I have anything else to do today.”

“Good. You could use the distraction.”

. . . . . .

Back in New Jersey, Doggett and Reyes were still canvassing the school looking for more witnesses, Scully found herself out in the streets with the brazen etymologist, Dr. Rocky Bronzino. His continued efforts of flirting with her wearing down on her last nerves. She surveyed the empty street and how idyllic it reminded her. Dr. Bronzino focused on the tool he had brought from his lap that was designed to help them. He took a step back from the tracker to examine the surroundings.

“So many flowers ... so little time,” he murmured

Scully looked up from the trunk of the Land Rover. “Excuse me?”

The etymologist stated excitedly. “Pheromones, Dr. Scully. Heavy in the air. Nature's natural attractions. Driving the insect world to go forth and pollinate.”

As Dr. Bronzino began to advance on her, she took a few steps back. She shifted her gaze to the device he had brought with him. “I'm aware of how pheromones work. But according to this device, there isn't a single pheromone to be found out here.”

He began to tweak his machine and Scully rolled her eyes, looking back up to the sky. She smirked, remembering the time she was with Mulder when frogs rained from the sky. Dr. Bronzino was growing frustrated. “Well, that can't be right. The biosensor uses an actual fly antenna over which the pheromones pass. But I modified the EAG to measure in picograms which makes it sensitive to traces a mile in any direction.”

Scully watched an overly casual Rocky lean against the car, a confident hand on his hip, as he tried to charm her. Scully tried to remain professional and keep them on track. “But I'm still not sure why you think that pheromones might cause an otherwise harmless fly to attack a human so violently, Doctor…”

“Rocky,” he corrected. His whitened teeth shined as brightly as he flirted with her.

“Rocky,” she repeated

He smiled, thinking his charm was working. “Bugs are small-minded creatures, and therefore very predictable. They don't have moods. They react to circumstance and stimuli as they have been doing for millennia.”

“How wonderful.” She tried to keep it professional. “So what do you suppose they're reacting to out here?”

Dr. Bronzino puffed out his chest like a mating dove and took a few steps forward. “It may be the bugs are being somehow driven crazy with desire. You know, they say we humans respond to pheromones, too.”

Scully put her hands on her hips, clearly uncomfortable. “Yeah, I tend to agree with that, yeah.”

Rocky pressed on. “‘Women's dormitory syndrome.’ It's believed that pheromones are the reason that women who live together share the same menstrual cycle.”

“Fascinating,” she deadpanned.

Dr. Bronzino felt emboldened. “You know, when a male and female calliphorid fly mate they stay joined for up to one and a half hours. One and a half, doctor.” He punctuated the last few words for emphasis. “What do you think of that?”

Scully stood unfazed. This was not the first time she had to deal with this, however, this time was different. “You know, Rocky ... I'm a mother.”

He arched an eyebrow, not dissuaded. He looked at her left hand. “Mothers are women, too.” He took a moment to look at Scully surveying her. “I noticed a lack of a ring. And what does it matters? Women have biological needs, just like men do.”

“You are drawing dangerous conclusions without lack of evidence, doctor.”

“Well, as a trained scientist, I observe you are a woman. There is no ring on your finger to denote a marriage or a serious relationship in what we consider legally.”

“I can assure you that I am very serious. I am in a committed, nine-year relationship with the baby’s father.”

“Well, he is not here. You are.”

“Doesn’t matter, Rocky. Let’s keep focused here, please.”

“Well, relationships aren’t known to be monogamous,” he countered.

“Seahorses, macaroni penguins, gray wolves, barn owls, and bald eagles,” she said.

“What do those animals have to do with relationships?”

“If you were a real scientist,” she pressed, “you would be aware of some of the animal species that are known to mate for life. There are some cracks in your argument. ”

“Well, there are numerous insects that perform a variety of mating rituals. Give it time, Dr. Scully and I’ll win you over.” She was about to reply but was interrupted by the beeping of the pheromone bio-sensor. Dr. Bronzino turned excitedly to the machine. “Big hit!”

“What is it?”

“A high concentration of c-13 calliphorone...incoming.” He looked up at the sky. Scully did the same and heard the beeping increase and then suddenly dissipate. “What? What happened?” He quickly went to check his machine.

“Nothing, apparently,” Scully commented drily. “We should get back to the lab. Agents Doggett and Reyes might have something for us there.”

“Are we going to continue our discussion of animal mating and ritual habits?” He asked, his voice heavily laced with innuendo.

“As far as I’m concerned, it’s done.”

“Dr. Scully, are you blushing? As the great Charles Darwin once said, ‘Blushing is the most peculiar and most human of all expressions.’”

“Don’t make me shoot you,” she sighed.

“I consider it a challenge.”

. . . . . .

“How do you like teaching at the academy,” Skinner asked. He watched Mulder use his plastic fork to push the mac and cheese around on his plate. “Mulder?”

“Um, interesting. A lot better than having to deal with the profiling cases in VCU even though I’m sure I will come calling. That’s part of the deal with teaching? We help out and consult as needed.”

“Are you that bitter that Scully is on an x-file and you’re not,” he asked.

“Am I that obvious?” Mulder asked.

“I’ve had hemorrhoids that weren’t as annoying with you,” he replied. “Or is it the fact that you don’t have the x-files anymore?”

The bluntness of Skinner’s observations caught Mulder off guard. He looked up from his food and took a few moments to reflect. “In theory, I shouldn’t. I have Scully and our son, things are about as normal as we can make them. But I can’t help but feel connected to them in some way. Seeing Scully out in the field, me not there…” He shrugged. “It brings up a lot of baggage.”

“Especially with Doggett?”

Mulder was quiet. “I blame myself. I should have stayed with her instead of chasing UFOs.”

“Doggett’s a good agent, Mulder. It was hard watching her, Mulder, during those months she was gone. Having to keep her pregnancy a secret. It was tough.” Skinner took a napkin and wiped his mouth. “You know, Sharon used to get mad at me when we first got married. I was still a field agent but the jealousy she would get. She felt inadequate with everything that was going on between us. Said she felt left behind.”

Well, Mulder thought, certainly hitting everything on the topic. Skinner continued to stare at Mulder. “And?” he asked. “What did Sharon do?”

“Well, we had a real nasty fight that was the start of our quarrels at the very beginning of our quarrels. I was in the field, missed an important date, you know how it goes.” He smiled to himself, remembering her. He thumbed at the wedding band thoughtfully. “But we made time. Communication wise. It didn’t always go well but we tried.”

“So, in addition to being an assistant director, you are secretly a marriage counselor. Wow, sir.”

“Knock it off, Mulder. All I am saying is that something is bothering you about this...arrangement, then make sure you take the time to talk to Scully.”

Mulder nodded. He decided to change the subject. “So, how is our old buddy Kersh?”

Skinner chuckled. “Tap dancing his way on the top floor so that you’re no longer there to bother him.”

“Well, at least some things never change,” he answered. “My advice, Mulder, from one man who tried to balance a career and relationship? Make sure you always leave time to talk and communicate. If not, the whole thing can go to shit.”

“Thanks, sir,” he nodded. His mind drifted to Scully. “I appreciate the advice. You should come down to Quantico more often. Skinner’s Lunch Hour wisdom.”

“Knock it off, Mulder,” he dismissed.

. . . . . . .

After getting John’s call from the school, Scully took her car to investigate and meet them there. According to Monica, Dylan had somehow controlled the bugs during their confrontation. She was surprised by the number of cops, firefighters, and EMTs. She was even surprised to see people in hazmat suits. But to her surprise, Monica had found them a clue. A used tissue. They rode back to the medical examiner. As they rode the elevator to the second floor. Scully was the first to emerge carrying the tissue in a metal container with Doggett and Reyes flanking her. “Where did you get this again?” She asked.

“Dylan Lokensgard provided it to us when we interviewed him,” Doggett answered.

“I have to warn you, there's typically not a lot to be found in a teenage boy's sweaty kleenex.”

“Well, a teenage boy can produce other things,” Reyes replied.

“Don’t remind me of the future,” Scully laughed thinking of William.

“But we were looking for pheromones. Aren't there pheromones produced in adolescent sweat?” Reyes continued.

“Yes, it's what causes B.O., But all too obviously it's not all that attractive--to anything,” Scully countered. “While I was out with Dr. Bronzino this morning, we thought we had a possible hit this morning but it turned out to be nothing.”

“A possible hit?” Doggett asked.

“Well, Dr. Bronzino was more than trying to hit on pheromones.”

“Well, at least Mulder isn’t here to punch him in the face,” Doggett chuckled.

“Yeah,” she said distantly. Scully’s brief thought of Mulder drifted away as she entered into the medical examiner’s office where Dr. Bronzino was bent over a microscope. She still needed to call him. The lack of communication between them was growing. “Let’s see what we uncover.”

As they entered, the biosensor’s beeps became progressively faster, startling the etymologist grew excited. “Finally! I knew it wasn’t broken!” He glanced up seeing Scully, Doggett, and Reyes. “Dr. Scully, I’m so glad you’re back! I've got a reading here that's going right off the scale. Holy Toledo! We've got pheromones coming out of the ying-yang here. C-13 calliphorene and how.”

As they got closer, the beeping became a steady tone, and then suddenly stopped. Doggett raised an eyebrow. “What happened?”

“I think my electroantennogram just... tilted,” Bronzino spoke in disbelief.

“What's c-13 calliphorone?” Reyes asked.

“Insect pheromone,” Scully supplied.

Dr. Bronzino’s attention shifted to the sample the FBI agents had brought. “Where did you find this mother lode?”

Agent Reyes answered, “A boy named Dylan Lokensgard. That specimen came from him.”

Rocky Bronzino sputtered, “A boy ... is secreting bug pheromones? That's impossible. Preposterous.”

Doggett glanced at Scully who met his gaze, trying to hide her smirk. He glanced back at the doctor. “You're the expert, Dr. Bronzino. How else do you explain it, then?”

When he didn’t respond, Scully asked, “Rocky?”

“A boy is a boy, a bug is a bug. You can't have it both ways,” he explained trying to wrap his mind around it, “science doesn’t allow it. Period.”

“I have a few theories,” Scully began, “Okay, so this boy's going through puberty, right? I mean, maybe his body chemistry is somehow just going crazy and it's his raging teenage hormones that are attracting all these insects.”

Reyes nodded in thought. “What if it's more than chemistry and hormones? More than biology? Dylan's not just attracting these bugs he's using them to act out.”

“Yes, but against what?” Scully asked.

“We saw him talking to a girl,” Reyes answered.

“Well, that makes sense. In a way. Teenage love,” Doggett connected. “The girl is the one in the dumb ass video. Captain dare's girlfriend.”

“How on Earth are you all making these connections,” Rocky said.

“We’ve experienced with cases like these,” Scully said. “Agent Doggett, why don’t you and Agent Reyes try to chase down the girl and check on her. Dr. Bronzino and I will check on Dylan.”

“We will?” He asked, confused.

“We are,” Scully confirmed. “Call each other in about two hours and meet back here?”

“Sounds like a plan,” Doggett nodded.

. . . . . .

It was evening by the time they got to the Lokensgards’ home. As Scully and Bronzino pulled up in front of Dylan Lokensgard’s house, her mind was elsewhere. She did not remember to call Mulder. As they walked up the sidewalk to the front door, Scully slowed and saw the front door slightly open. Scully slowed and drew out her flashlight. She knocked lightly on the door. “Mrs. Lokensgard? Dylan?” She called out.

Rocky Bronzino behind her was fiddling with the machine, trying to fix it, and it started emitting a series of steady beats. “Ah, got it! I'm getting a reading here. Trace levels inside the house.”

Scully shifted her gaze and replied, “Well, I guess that's probable cause.” Scully began her trek up the stairs when she was stopped by Rock Bronzino. “What now?”

Bronzino said quickly, “Dr. Scully? I just wanted to say this while I had a chance.” He smiled with bleached teeth. “This is so exciting. I've never had a partner before. And this isn’t a thing. This is a professional collaboration that happens only one time.”

Scully thought of Mulder and felt her heart twist. “I have. Don’t forget what I told you, Dr. Bronzino.”

“Semantics, Dr. Scully. I'd like to think of it as a hymenopteran relationship. Two scientists using their special knowledge reaching higher than either of them could ever reach alone. And if I may say so, Doctor, you complete me.”

“I’ve already completed. I already have a partner. I’ve told you this. Now, I got upstairs, you takedown.” She shook her head and thought of Mulder. She needed to call him once this was done.

“All right,” he exclaimed, “Partner!”

She rolled her eyes and jogged up the stairs. As she slowly examined the upstairs, her thoughts drifted back to Mulder and how she hadn’t communicated with him. Or her mother. As she neared Dylan’s room, Scully spied Natalie’s class picture on the bed. As her phone rang, she jumped, digging it out. “Scully?”

“Where are you?” It was John Doggett. He sounded rushed.

She looked around the room. “I’m with Dr. Branzino at the Lokengard’s house. But there’s nobody here.

“Yeah, well, I'm afraid the kid's on a tear. He's caused a car accident out here on Glenhaven road,” Doggett explained.

“How'd he do that?”

“You'd better see for yourself.”

“I’m on my way.”

Scully turned to make her downstairs while Rocky was just getting his equipment working properly. He looked up. “It’s everywhere, Dr. Scully. C-13 calliphorone. I'm getting a stiff new reading from up here.”

Scully nodded, “Yeah, Dylan's bedroom's up there. That’s probably what you’re reading. Unfortunately, he's not in it.”

“Where are you going?”

“The kid's on a rampage. I’m going to meet Agent Doggett.” The pheromone machine began to beep loudly and Dr. Bronzino cried in surprise. She called, “You got my number.”

Dr. Bronzino smiled and called out. “Does that mean you’ve changed your mind, Dr. Scully?”

“Not in your wildest dreams, Rocky.”

. . . . . .

Mulder came home, hoping to see, Scully but his heart fell when it was only Mrs. Scully smiling with William. He should be happy to have his son but he was missing his partner more. After a simple dinner and promises of coming to dinner Saturday night, Mrs. Scully left Mulder alone with William on a Friday night. William was quick to fall asleep and Mulde put him to bed. He surveyed the empty apartment. It felt foreign without Scully there with him.

He went back to the couch and tried to get comfortable. Flipping on the TV, he found the Sports Center. He glanced at his cell phone. He checked it one last time before turning it off. If she wasn’t busy saving the world without him, she would find a way to let him know what is going on.

. . . . .

As Scully drove to meet Agent Doggett, her phone started to ring again. She sighed and answered, “Scully.”

“Agent Scully,” Doggett’s voice filtered through the voice piece, “I need you to turn around and go back to Dylan’s house. Monica just called. She got knocked out and Natalie is gone. I think Dylan got her.”

“Is Agent Reyes okay?”

“Yes, I think so. I found her covered in some sort of web. Like a spider.”

Scully’s mind flashed to one of the first cases she and Mulder had on what was supposed to be a walk through the forest. “Call the EMTs and make sure they bring hazmat gear. I’m on my way back to Dylan’s house.”

“I’ll meet you there.”

“Take care of Agent Reyes first. And call back up for me as well.”

“You got it. I’ll be there as soon as I can.”

She tried to dial Rocky’s number but it was disconnected. As Scully pulled back up at the Lokensgard home, it was still eerily quiet and something felt amiss. She drew her weapon and flashlight and took a few steps in. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Natalie Gordon, the girl that Doggett and Reyes had been after, sitting in a chair and crying. She asked, “Where are they?” Natalie shook her head, unable to speak. “Natalie!”

Natalie’s crying continued. She pointed upstairs wordlessly. Scully pointed her weapon upstairs and began to make her way to the attic. She widened her eyes in disbelief to see large human-sized sacs of web hanging from various positions. She instantly recalled the mysterious web-slinging, glowing insects from Washington state and how her, Mulder, and the park ranger were almost swallowed alive. As she examined them, a small voice emitted, “Help me. Dr. Scully, help me!”

Scully bent down to tear off the web. “Dr. Bronzino?”

“It’s the boy! And the mother!”

“Where are they?”

“I don’t know.” His voice sounded faint. “I don’t feel so good.”

In the distance, she could hear sirens. That must have been Doggett and Reyes coming with the cavalry. She tried to tear the webbing away as she heard the sirens sound to a stop. Bronzino looked faint suddenly and lolled his head backward and his eyes shut. She dragged him out and checked for a pulse. Feeling one, although faint, she began CPR. She heard footsteps running up the stairs and as the flashlight shined on her.

“Agent Scully!” Doggett greeted. “Is that Branzino?”

“He was in one of the web sacks,” she explained quickly, continuing CPR.

“He’s smiling,” Reyes observed.

“He’s what?”

Scully looked down to see Bronzino with his eyes closed but he was smiling. “That sonofabitch,” she cried.

Caught up in the moment, she slapped him against the cheek and got to her feet. The smack was resounding and caused Dr. Bronzino to sit up suddenly and place his hand against the red cheek. “What kind of care was that?”

“A dose of reality,” she snapped. “Make sure the EMTs check him out.”

“I thought we were partners,” he pouted.

“We worked together on this one case. That’s it.” She turned to Doggett and Reyes. “I found him cocooned up like these unknown victims. I had seen something like this once before when I first started on the x-files. That might be worth checking out.”

“We will,” Doggett said, trying to fight from grinning. “But um, do you find any signs of Dylan?”

“Gone. How is Natalie?” Scully answered.

“Fine. Shaken up but I think she’ll be okay,” Reyes said, trying to fight the urge to laugh.

��What?” Scully asked. She turned as the two agents stared at Bronzino who was now trying to charm a female EMT about his close brush with death. “Oh, come on!”

“I’m just saying,” Doggett said. “If Mulder were here, he would have slugged the guy.”

“Just because you were on the receiving end of the man’s fist once, John doesn’t mean he would slug another guy.”

Scully rolled her eyes and cast one lingering glance at Bronzino. “Speaking of Mulder, I need to call him.”

“Let him know about the human fly trap?” Doggett grinned.

“Both of you knock it off,” she grumbled.

“Agent Scully,” one of the police officers called, “I need to get your statement!”

“Can it wait?”

“I’m afraid not, ma’am unless you want to do it in the morning,” the officer said.

Scully sighed. “Fine, fine, I’ll do it tonight.”

Her plans of going home or evening calling Mulder disappeared as she was left with Agents Doggett, Reyes, and the cops investigating the scenes.

. . . . . .

Saturday morning. The sun was just peeking through the windows of the Georgetown apartment as Mulder sipped his coffee. He was preparing to wake William up to take him to do a morning run to the shop down the street for donuts and a newspaper. Despite the jealousy and sour feelings, he had with Scully being in the field, being home on a Saturday morning with his son was nice.

His attention was drawn to the door when he heard a key sliding into the lock, the deadbolt turning, and the door open. In came Scully, still wearing the suit from the night before. She came in, kicked off her boots, and dropped her keys on the table next to the door. She sighed and Mulder stood quietly. “You look like you’ve had a tough case,” he called softly.

Scully looked surprised. “You’re awake.”

“I’m not much of one for sleep. You should know that by now,” he replied. “You didn’t call.”

“I’m sorry,” she started. Her tired mind tried to piece the past 24 hours. “I got busy and distracted. Everything came to a head last night. I didn’t want to wait to see you so I drove through the night…”

“You drove through the night,” he said.

“Yeah.”

“As a doctor, you should know better.” He made his way to her in a few steps and wrapped his arms tightly around her. Scully was shocked by the greeting but relaxed a few seconds later. Her arms came under his and she hugged him tightly. Mulder squeezed his eyes tightly and buried his face into her hair and breathed deeply. “I missed you.”

Scully buried her face into her chest. His cotton shirt smelled of William, old sweat, and just home. “I missed you too.” She lifted her head and kissed him. Mulder smiled and kissed her deeply, not relinquishing his grasp. She chuckled tiredly. “You missed me.”

“Words fail to describe it.”

She smiled again and looked about the empty apartment. “Where is William?”

“Still sleeping. He’ll wake up in another hour or so. What about you? When was the last time you slept?”

“I napped at the station before I hit the road.”

“You’re a doctor,” he admonished.

“I know, I know.”

“So you know bed rest is the thing you need right now. I’ll call your mother later and cancel dinner plans.”

“Dinner plans?”

Mulder nodded. “We thought you were coming home last night so we were going to have dinner as a family. No worries. We can do it tomorrow.”

“Mom usually goes to church first thing.”

“I’m sure she’ll make an exception.”

Scully was already moving towards their son’s bedroom. The need to see her son was killing her. She opened the door slowly to see William still sleeping soundly. “He sleeps like you but like clockwork, he’ll be up ready for his bottle. We were going to run to the store to get donuts and the Saturday paper. I can pick you up for breakfast if you want?”

“That’d be nice.”

At the sound of his mother’s voice, William sleepily opened his eyes and gurgled happily. “He was up earlier, about three, with a diaper. Go ahead. I’ll get his bottle ready and get you some coffee. Unless you want to change.”

“No, no, this is fine.”

Scully bent down to pick up her son, cradled him, and sat in the rocking chair. Mulder smiled at the image before he went to fetch the bottle and coffee. As he came back and saw Scully, still disheveled from her case, smiling and cooing at their son, the anger and bitterness he had been nursing the past few days momentarily vanished.

. . . . . .

“Is William asleep?”

“Yeah,” Mulder replied, crawling into bed with her. “He’ll probably be up around two or three. He’s been consistent the past few nights with you gone. Don’t worry about it. I’ll take the first shift when he wakes up.”

Scully flipped the covers down for him further. “I missed this.”

“Missed what?”

“You, William, us.”

Skinner’s advice came back to him suddenly and Mulder said, “I have something to ask you. Rather something to tell you?”

“What?”

“I was quite moody and jealous when you were gone. I felt...I felt left behind,” he confessed searching for the right words. “I know I screwed up being abducted and dying and putting you through all that before William was born. With you gone…” He sighed. “I’m sorry.”

“You did nothing wrong. I may have gotten caught up in the work,” she said. Scully reached for his hand. “But this parenthood thing, our relationship, we just need to strike a balance and find out what that is. I enjoyed Saturday with you and William. That’s something we wouldn’t have if we were still on the x-files.”

“True. But I still feel bad.” He pulled her suddenly towards her and she let out a yelp of surprise. He kissed her neck and nuzzled her pajama top open. “William can sleep through anything. And, correct me if I’m wrong, doctor, you’ve healed enough.”

She giggled and slide down so he had better access. “On the case, there was this etymologist that had helped us. Rocky Bronzino. The man kept flirting with me to no end. He ended up in a cocoon…”

“A cocoon you say,” Mulder murmured.

His fingers were already unbuttoning her pajama top, his hand sinking beneath the elastic waistband of her undergarments. She shivered to feel his fingers touch her. “Yes. I got to say I was in a relationship,” she smiled. She sought more kisses from him. “Publicly. Openly. I am in a committed relationship with my partner.”

Mulder smiled and whispered, “You sound so sexy saying that.”

“What? I am in a committed relationship with my partner?”

“Yes.” Scully found herself topless and pulled off Mulder’s shirt. “He made me perform CPR on him.”

Mulder paused. “He did what?”

“Don’t worry. I gave him a good dose of reality.” She snickered. “By slapping him.”

“There’s the Agent Scully I know,” he breathed. “And good. I don’t share.”

Scully let him continue his ministrations, relishing being home and with him again. Her thoughts about the case as she just let herself be present and let herself be free. Mulder moved and loved her, silently thanking whoever was listening he had her and William in his life. After a passionate reunion, Scully cuddled against Mulder, resting her head on his heart. “I missed you.”

He held her and gently played with her hair. “I missed you too.”

On the baby monitor, William began to make noses, crying from one of his parents. “I got it,” Mulder whispered. He kissed her quickly. “And you’re right, we’ll try to find a balance.”

Scully laid back down in bed and watch his naked behind jog to the nursery. She lay back down to watch the shadows on the ceiling and he was back five minutes later. Mulder slid effortlessly back next to her, embracing her again. “Everything okay?”

“Yeah, yeah,” he said. “He was just talking in his sleep. Like you do.”

“You mean you,” she yawned.

“I mean you.” He pulled her closer. “It’s good to have you home, Scully.”

“It’s good to be home.”

#xfiles #xf fic #msr #txf #txf fic #msr fic #embracing parenthood fic #mulder #scully #mulder and scully #season 9 #au

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illfoandillfie · 4 years

Note

Hey i hope you're enjoying your time off work so far! Id like to request a roger blurb please, it's not from a prompt list but I had a thought the other day I couldn't get out of my head! So I was reading something on The Cross and the other lads in the band were like 22, and I just imagined being one of their friends and they offer to bring you into the studio for a day because youre interested to see how they record but you're a bit nervous to meet roger and when are introduced you can't get over how hot he is in the flesh and he thinks youre really cute and takes a liking to you and theres a bit of flirting and loads of chemistry 😍 honestly would love to read a whole fic on this but a blurb would great! 😁 p.s sorry this is so long! 😂

This is such a cute idea! I hope I did it justice!

~~~

You’ve known Peter for years. Watched as he’s picked up the bass as a hobby and then got seriously into it. You went with him when he went to audition for a band, waited out the front of the building they held them in and asked him how it went when he was done. The rumour was that a musician who was already quite famous was looking for people to join a new band so your first question was actually…

“Who was it?”

“Roger Taylor!”

“Who?”

“From Queen! Y’know, the drummer,”

Less exciting than you’d imagined. If it had been Freddie himself you would have been more impressed. And the guitarist (whats-his-name, tall fellow with all the hair) might have been worth a exclamation and maybe tempted you to turn back and try and catch a glimpse. But the drummer? Who cares. But the good news was that Peter was in. Rodney or whatever his name was had clearly liked what he saw and you couldn’t blame him, Peter was the best bassist you knew, best musician you knew. You were proud of Peter and happy for him.

There were a few perks to being besties with the bassist in a proper band. He gave you copies of all their albums and you got to meet the rest of the band. Well most of them. The singer, the famous one, had never been able to make it, always busy with Queen or his family. But he seemed like a top bloke from everything you heard about him and you did like his style, his voice. You’d thought you might finally get to meet him when you went and saw them play on the tour but unfortunately you’d had to back out at the last minute after catching a flu-like bug.

It wasn’t until they were working on the next album that it happened. You were hanging out at Peter’s place, his first day off since they’d finished recording, when he got a phone call. As he put it, some fucking moron had fucked up one of the tapes and they had to go in and re-record a whole fucking song. He was apologetic for ruining your day together but you waved him off. You could see him again tomorrow or the next day or whenever.

“Unless you wanted to come with me? Hopefully it won’t take more than a couple of hours and then we can go see a movie or something. And you can see how we make an album.”

“All that shit you’ve told me about it might actually make some sense,” you laughed but agreed to the plan.

Spike was the first to see you, pulling you into a hug but the rest of the band was soon saying hi too and waving as they plugged in instruments and tuned them. Peter left you to find Roger and ask what had been lost so you ambled around the studio, looking at the records that hung on the walls and all the equipment. The numerous buttons and dials and adjustable slides made you feel a little like you were in a space ship in a sci-fi movie. You were just beginning to wonder where Peter had vanished to and when they’d be getting on with it when the door behind you opened and in he walked with Roger. You smiled and waved and he said something to Roger before they came over to your corner of the room.

“So you’re Y/N? I’m sorry I haven’t been able to meet you earlier, Peter’s told me so much about you.” He reached out to shake your hand as he spoke and you were struck by how charming he was.

“He has, has he?”

“All good I promise,”

“Of course it’s all good. He knows how much dirt I have on him.”

Roger laughed as Peter rolled his eyes.

“Sorry, I’m Roger by the way.”

“Nice to finally meet you Roger,”

“I’ll try not to keep your boy too long. But please, make yourself comfortable. There’s a couch over there or you can sit and watch what they do at the desk.”

You thanked him for letting you be there and wished them luck as they turned and went through the second door into the recording space. And then you kicked yourself for saying something so stupid. No one had told you Roger was hot. That was crucial information and no one had thought to inform you. You’d heard he was funny and a great musician and all this other stuff and not once had they said he was hot! You tried to remember if you’d noticed it on any of the record sleeves but you couldn’t say you’d really paid much attention. You’d been much more focused on Peter. But now, after having met Roger, you felt like you were regressing to a giggly teenager again and had to turn around so no one would see you grinning.

After a bit of discussion half the band left the recording space, leaving the drummer to lay down his part first. Peter came over to talk to you, but your eyes were firmly stuck on Roger as he bent over one of the mixing boards.

“Y/N, did you hear me?” Peter said, tapping you on the shoulder.

“Huh?”

“Can you stop drooling over Rog for a second,”

“I’m not drooling,” you wrenched your eyes away from Roger and turned to face Peter instead.

“Might as well be,”

“What’s his deal anyway?”

“Seriously?”

“I’m curious, sue me,”

“Divorced. Kids. Twice your age,”

“Any downsides I should know about?”

“Twice your age isn’t a downside?”

“Course not. Means he’s experienced and mature,”

Peter laughed and you took the opportunity to look over at Roger again, though you quickly brought your gaze back to Peter.

“Seriously though, is there any reason I should be wary?”

“I’ve known Rog for a few years now and he’s a really great guy, if a little busy. Plus, if Spike’s stories about Queen tours are to be believed, you’re right to say he’s experienced,”

You laughed and this time when you looked back at Roger your eyes met. You smiled, the sort of flirty smile the boys in the local pub liked. He smiled back before turning to the desk again.

For the next few hours you watched as each band member took a turn in the booth, playing their part over and over and over until everyone was satisfied with how it sounded. It was a little boring, the novelty soon wearing off, but there were things to keep you entertained. Peter talked to you while he wasn’t preoccupied, sometimes joined by one or two of the others. Occasionally they’d interrupt whatever they were saying to comment on how the person playing sounded, and Roger would make adjustments based on the feedback, or talk into the little speaker and relay the advice. Mostly you amused yourself by fantasising about Roger, watching him over the shoulder of whoever was talking to you. You caught him look at you a few more times too. It happened more frequently once Peter was in the booth and you decided you might as well make a move. Afterall, how likely was it you’d see Roger again any time soon?

He’d said you could sit closer to the desk if you wanted so you sidled up next to him and asked him to explain what you were looking at. He beckoned you closer still, wrapped his arm around your waist as he pointed out different slides and buttons and explained what they did. There was a definite tension between you, something electric, something that made your skin tingle where his hand lay. You nodded along, asked questions. He seemed impressed by that, happily answering everything in great detail. Until he turned back to watch Peter, his hand slipping from your waist and his voice becoming much more serious. When Peter was done, you hugged him and said he sounded great.

“I saw you practically sitting on Roger’s lap just now,” he whispered, double checking Roger himself wasn’t listening in.

“I think he likes me,”

“You’re young and pretty of course he likes you,”

“You’re the worst person to talk to about this,” you laughed, “But would you care if I…”

“What, seduced him?”

“I was going to say asked him out but same diff,”

“Y/N, you’re a grown woman and I’m not your keeper,”

“Okay but you’re in a band with him, I don’t want to like, get in the way.”

“If you want to go for it then go for it.”

“Even with the age gap?”

“It clearly doesn’t bother you and lord knows I hope that when I’m 40 something I can still pull 22 year olds.”

You laughed, your mind made up.

There wasn’t much chance to put your plan in motion inside the studio. Too many people and Roger became distracted as it was his turn to record his vocals. Hearing Roger sing what was obviously a love song made your breath catch and your heart race. If you’d felt unsure about him, those doubts were gone. You found yourself standing by the desk again, not to see how they adjusted the levels but just to be closer to the glass between you and Roger. He smiled at you between verses and you desperately wanted to be the person he was singing about. As he re-sang the final verse, adjusting based on feedback from the others, you felt like you needed some air. Slipping out the door you headed down the corridor and stepped out of the building. Two vending machines were there and you dug out your purse for some change. As you were crouching down to collect the bottle you heard the door open again. It was Roger.

“I’m sorry this is taking longer than we thought,”

“Oh, it’s fine I feel like I understand what Peter does now. But maybe can make it up to me after with a coffee?”

Roger opened his mouth to respond and then paused.

“Doesn’t have to be coffee…”

“I’m flattered but I’m not sure that’s a good idea,”

“Why not? Is it because I’m younger than you?”

“No, no, that’s not it. I’m just not in the habit of taking my bandmates girls’ out on dates,”

Realisation dawned on you and you began to laugh, even more so once you saw Roger’s confused expression, “Me and Peter aren’t together. We’re just mates,”

“Really? But he talks about you a lot and Spike said-”

“Spike doesn’t know what he’s on about. Did you not wonder why I was flirting so much?

“No, I definitely wondered. But that’s, that’s good.”

“Good?”

“Well, what I mean is, you’re cute. I would have asked you out already expect that I thought…But that’s by the by, um,” he scratched the back of his head, “So you still want to get that coffee?”

#my writing #my blurbs #roger taylor x reader #roger taylor imagine #look! somehing non filthy!#scorpiogemini

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rmtndew · 4 years

Text

All I’ve Ever Known ~ Chapter 4

Summary: Fiona’s life is a shattered fraction of what it used to be. She’s trying to navigate her new normal when she meets Detective Marshall, who gives her something more to look forward to.

Pairing: Marshall and OFC.

Rating: PG

Warnings: Mentions of death, cancer.

A/N - This was intended as a short drabble but it got out of hand and became a multi-chapter story instead. It’s my first Marshall fic and the first fan fic that I’ve written in over a decade. The title comes from the song ‘All I’ve Ever Known’ from Hadestown: ‘I was alone so long, I didn’t even know that I was lonely. Out in the cold so long, I didn’t even know that I was cold. Turned my collar to the wind, this is how it’s always been. All I’ve ever known is how to hold my own, but now I want to hold you, too.’

Tag list - @hollydaisy23, @readings-of-a-cavill-lover, @onlyhenrys, @omgkatinka, @speakerforthedead0-blog, @gearhead66, @thethirstyarchive, @oddsnendsfanfics, @littlerinoa, @agniavateira, @aaescritora,

If you’d like to be added to the tag list, let me know!

Chapter 1, Chapter 2, Chapter 3, Chapter 4, Chapter 5

I woke the next morning ten minutes before my alarm went off. At first I couldn’t figure out why and tried burrowing back into my warm bed to get my last few minutes of sleep back, but then my phone alerted me to a new text and I realized that’s what had woken me up. I sighed. I knew it was Darcy. Sometimes she woke up early with big ideas for her store and texted them to me, asking my opinion. She met me when I was working in interior design and any time she entertained the idea of having a dine in section, she’d send me pictures of what she wanted and ask how feasible it would be. Most of the time they were way too grand to fit into her pre-existing building. Other times she’d talk about a small coffee shop to encourage more people to come in and pick up their own orders and cut back on our deliveries. But I couldn’t see how renovating a portion of the store, buying new equipment and hiring extra employees to run a coffee shop would lower costs just by maybe cutting back on some deliveries.

I was planning on ignoring the text until after I’d actually gotten up, but when another came through I knew it was best to just go ahead and nip it in the bud before she sent me an entire magazine’s worth of photos. But when I hit the home button on my phone I saw that the texts hadn’t come from Darcy. I had to squint against the brightness of the screen to make sure I saw the name right. Marshall.

I sat up and turned on my lamp, then looked at my phone again, reading the texts from their previews.

Hey, it’s Marshall. I had a great time yesterday. Sorry I was falling asleep on you. Can I make it up to you this weekend?

Sorry. You’re probably sleeping. It might take more than coffee to make it up to you now. Dinner?

I suddenly felt wide awake and was no longer irritated by my few minutes of missed sleep. I would have gladly given up several hours for those texts. I decided not to reply to them right then, though. I wanted to make sure I’d had enough coffee to formulate a comprehensible reply and not look like I was drunk texting him, which I had a history of. My conversations with Darcy at five in the morning were proof of that.

I got up and went about my morning routine like usual, trying not to wake Mom. When I made my way downstairs, I poured a cup of coffee and sat at the table. I sipped it, thinking about what to say to Marshall. I wrote and rewrote the text half a dozen times before finally having something I felt okay with, then I sent it.

Hey Marshall. I had a great time, too. You don’t have to make up for anything but I’d still like to have dinner with you. What day did you have in mind?

My heart was thudding from nerves and excitement. I was so focused on trying to calm myself down that I almost didn’t hear Mom when she walked in.

“Morning, sweetie,” she said, grabbing a coffee cup.

“Good morning,” I replied, then jumped slightly as my phone vibrated on the table. I tried not to look too enthusiastic as I grabbed it.

Does Saturday work for you?

“Darcy again?” Mom asked, pouring coffee for herself.

“Um...no, actually.” I tried biting back a smile but it didn’t work. “It’s Marshall.”

Her eyes went wide and she smiled back. “He’s writing to you at six in the morning?”

“He actually wrote me earlier. He asked if I wanted to have dinner with him Saturday.”

She sat down at the table beside me. “What did you tell him?”

“I haven’t replied yet. I don’t want him to think I’m just waiting by the phone for him.”

She looked at the phone in my hand. “Isn’t that exactly what you’re doing, though?”

“Yes, but he doesn’t have to know it.”

She laughed then blew on her coffee. “I’m glad this whole texting business wasn’t around when I was dating your father.”

“Even if it was, you’re a lot more forward than I am. You wouldn’t have had a single issue with texting Dad first, or answering him right away,” I said. My phone made another sound, reminding me of my unread text and I finally opened it, then replied.

Saturday is perfect. What time would you like to meet?

“Well, there was only room enough for one coy person in our relationship and Rodger called that role,” Mom said after I put my phone down.

I laughed. “I don’t think ‘coy’ was the right word for Dad. I think socially awkward was more appropriate.”

“He was too smart to be a social butterfly, too. He had to have a couple of flaws.”

“He couldn’t set the timer for the coffee pot, no matter how many times I showed him, and he thought that the Sharknado movies were amazing. He had his flaws,” I joked.

“This coffee pot is confusing.”

“He was an engineer!”

My phone buzzed in my hand and that time I didn’t wait to open the text. I read it right away.

Would you let me pick you up instead? Around six?

“Well, what does he say?” Mom asked.

“He wants to pick me up instead of me meeting him.”

“Are you going to let him?”

I looked at her and she was smiling at me. I shook my head at her, laughing again. “You want him to come here so that you can see him, don’t you?”

She shrugged. “You keep talking about how handsome he is.”

“He is handsome. And it’s an awfully gentlemanly thing to do…” I bit my lip for a moment, pretending to think it over.

“Just tell him yes. We both know you’re going to.”

I gave another laugh. “Fine.”

I would like that, thank you. And I’m curious, what does Detective Marshall eat when he’s not eating a cuban sandwich and plain chips?

I put my phone on the table. “What are your plans for today?” I asked, then took a sip of my coffee.

She gave me a cheeky grin. “Changing the subject.”

I rolled my eyes. “I’m not changing the subject. I’m asking what my mother is going to be doing while I’m out earning the bread for this family,” I joked.

She snorted. “You don’t earn the bread, Fi, you just bake it.” She nodded at my arm. “And burn yourself in the process.”

“That’s the first time I’ve burnt myself in a year and a half. I’d say that’s a pretty good record.”

“That’s true,” she said. “And if you must know, I was thinking of going down to Valley and talking to Georgia about starting music lessons again after the new year. I think by then I’ll have recovered enough to be able to teach at least a few days a week.”

“You’re going to put yourself around snot nosed kids in the dead of flu season?” I asked dryly.

“I’ll be teaching teenagers, not little kids, and I’ll wear a mask,” she said. “I’ll make sure to clean everything between students and have them use hand sanitizer when they come in. I’m not going to be immunocompromised forever, and I’m not going to live in a bubble until then, either.” She gave me a smirk. “Besides, I can’t let you be the only one that earns the bread around here.”

I laughed at her but it was cut short when my phone buzzed again.

Stuff that’s probably not very good for him. Like Italian. How does that sound?

Just when I thought I couldn’t be any more attracted to him, he confessed to liking my favorite type of food. I couldn’t stop my train of thought that went to me one day making an Italian dinner for him as a date. But my mind’s eye set up the imaginary dinner in my old apartment and I knew that would never happen. I let that thought go and took a deep breath, trying to focus my attention on the present moment.

That sounds great. I love Italian food.

I sent it and sat back in my seat. I tried not to let my mind wander too far down the road with Marshall. I’d been on a lot of first dates in my life with guys that I’d thought were great who turned out to be jerks and I knew what that disappointment felt like. And even though I couldn’t imagine Marshall disappointing me in the same way they had - he’d proven at our coffee date that he was far more respectful, even while he was tired - I wanted to remind myself that I needed to take things one step at a time.

Perfect. I’ll see you Saturday at six, then.

I must have looked pretty gooey eyed over the whole thing because Mom reached out and touched my wrist gently. When I looked at her, the teasing tone was gone from her face and she was smiling at me. “I’m happy for you, sweetie. I really am.”

I was a ball of nerves all Saturday morning and afternoon. More than I’d ever been on the day of a first date. But nothing with Marshall fell into my ‘usual’ category. There was something about him that made him different from any other man I’d gone out with. And maybe that was it: He was a man. Not some boy masquerading as one. He was quiet, and fierce, and protective. He thought before he spoke. And even when delivering a threat - like he had to that creep in the bar - he’d done it calmly and with authority. He exuded confidence, not cockiness, and there was honestly nothing more attractive than that.

I was nearly ready, just zipping up my boots, when I heard a crash downstairs. I rushed down and found Mom in the kitchen, trying to pick up the broken pieces of one of her giant coffee mugs.

“I’m - I’m not sure what happened,” she said. “I just lost my grip.”

“It’s okay.” I took a step towards her, trying to avoid the pile of porcelain. “Let me clean it up.”

“I can do it,” she said, sounding flustered.

“I know you can but you’re in socks and I’m wearing boots.”

She stood her ground for a moment, then finally sighed and relented, taking a step back. “Okay. I’ll get you the broom.”

“It’s fine. I’ll get it. Just watch your step.”

I went to grab the broom as she threw away the large chunks of her broken cup that she’d been able to pick up with her hands. I could tell she was frustrated.

“You know, if you didn’t like that mug, you could have just gotten rid of it, you didn’t have to break it,” I joked, taking the broom and dustpan from the broom closet. “Or were you afraid I wouldn’t take the hint and buy you another one if I thought it just went missing?”

She gave a small laugh but I could tell she was still embarrassed. “I actually liked that coffee mug a lot.”

“I’ll get you a new one.”

“You don’t have to do that. I can -”

The doorbell rang and she stopped mid-sentence. We both froze, my eyes flicking to the clock on the stove. It was 5:53. Marshall was early. After a moment, Mom took a step towards me, holding out her hand to take the broom from me. I shook my head.

“You’re wearing socks,” I reminded her. “I don’t want you to cut your foot.”

Her eyes grew wide. “So you’re going to clean up after me while I go meet your date?”

“Yes, ma’am.”

She brushed her hand over her barely there hair, trying to collect herself, then let out a breath. “Okay, I’ll go let him in.”

“Don’t be too charming. He might have a thing for cougars and I don’t want to have to fight my mom for a guy.”

She smiled for real, the embarrassment of having her daughter clean up after her letting go enough that it was no longer plainly visible. “No promises,” she joked, then left the kitchen to answer the door.

It didn’t take long to clean up. Even though the cup had shattered pretty good, its bright white color stood out against the dark wood of the floor, making even the tiniest pieces easy to see. After making sure I’d cleaned it all up, I threw away the pieces and put up the broom and dustpan, then went to find Mom and Marshall.

They were standing in the entryway. Mom was saying something about teaching at Valley and Marshall stood in front of her, his hands clasped behind his back, and a look of sincere focus on his face as she spoke. Mom was a small woman but next to him, she looked comically tiny.

I paused for a moment, taking him in. His hair looked a bit more controlled than any other time I’d seen him, his curls tighter and not quite as messy. His beard looked like it had been trimmed, giving it a purposeful look instead of the ‘I’m too busy to shave’ vibe that I’d gotten from him previously. He wore a thick blue sweater that made the color of his eyes pop when they drifted over to me. It was brief, maybe less than a second, before concentrating on Mom again. But he had a slight smile and it was enough for her to notice. She turned and looked at me.

“There she is. I guess I’ll stop talking your ear off and let you two go,” she said.

Marshall smiled at her, then at me, bigger that time. “I didn’t realize I was early. I apologize.”

“No, don’t. You’re fine,” I said, moving to grab my coat. “I’m ready, I was just cleaning up a broken cup. I’m basically like Cinderella around here.”

Mom snorted. “Hardly. Cinderella was made to do chores. You’re the one who won’t let me lift a finger,” she said. “Besides, I think she sang while she worked.”

I raised my eyebrow at her as I put my coat on. “Do you want me to sing?”

She shook her head. “No. No one wants that, sweetie,” she said, making Marshall laugh. She looked at him. “Fi spent a good portion of her teenage years screaming along to music in her room. I didn’t even know you could make ‘Girls Just Wanna Have Fun’ sound angry until she proved otherwise. Needless to say, her father and I encouraged her other interests a bit more enthusiastically.”

I grabbed my purse. “I should have let you clean up your own mess and answered the door myself,” I joked before kissing the top of her head. “Bye, Mom.”

Marshall smiled again. “It was nice meeting you, Mrs. Sparks.”

“Likewise, Detective Marshall. You two have fun.”

We left the house and after a few steps down the walkway, he jabbed his thumb back at the door. “She’s funny.”

“She can be,” I agreed. “She’s a spitfire, though, that’s for sure.”

“I like it.”

“Yeah, I like it, too.”

We walked to his truck and he opened the door for me. “You look gorgeous, by the way,” he said as I got in.

I felt myself blush instantly, caught off guard by the compliment. “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome,” he said, closing the door for me.

We’d only made it to the driveway and my stomach was already doing somersaults. He made me feel like a teenage girl, all giddy and excited, and I loved it.

He went around the front of the truck, then climbed in the driver’s side. I tried to sneak a look at him while he was putting on his seat belt but he caught me. He smiled as I snapped my head straight ahead.

“Sorry, I just, I was…” I tried to think of an excuse but I couldn’t think of anything that didn’t sound lame. I let out a sigh. “I was checking you out,” I admitted. “I can’t lie. There’s no point. Sorry.”

“That’s the least offensive thing a woman has ever apologized to me for,” he said with a laugh, starting the truck. He leaned forward enough to catch my eye, making me instinctively turn my head towards him. He grinned. “Did you see anything you like?”

My blush deepened and I couldn’t hold back a giggle. “Maybe.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah. I mean, that is a nice sweater.”

“Oh, so you were checking out my jumper?”

I shrugged. “It brings out your eyes.”

“Does it now?”

“It does. And you have very lovely eyes.”

“Thank you,” he said. “But my daughter bought the jumper, so I can’t take credit for it.”

“She did a good job,” I said, forcing my eyes to look up front as we pulled out of the driveway. Even though I’d already admitted to checking him out, there was a difference between looking and leering and I didn’t want to come off as creepy. “I take it that this wasn’t your weekend to have her?”

“It was supposed to be but she was invited to a Halloween party with some of her friends so she asked to do that instead. She’ll be with me tomorrow.”

“What did she dress as? For the party.”

“A cowgirl.”

“Does she ride horses or did she just like the costume?”

“No, she rides. She took lessons when she was a bit younger. And she and I go riding some weekends.”

“So you’re Detective Marshall during the week and cowboy Marshall on the weekends? Does that ever cross over? Do they have mounted police in the homicide unit?”

He shook his head as he laughed. “No, not that I’m aware of.”

“That’s a shame.”

“Is it now?” he asked, and his tone made me blush all over again.

“I’m actually not going to answer that. I’m going to wait until we get a little further from my house to fully embarrass myself so that when you fake an emergency to get rid of me, my ego doesn’t get too crushed.”

“Do you really think I’d do that?”

“I hope not, but I’ve been excited about having dinner with you, so I’m going to try not to mess it up.”

“I think you’d have to try pretty hard to mess it up,” he said as we stopped at the end of my street. He glanced at me. “And I’ve been excited about it, too.”

#Henry Cavill #Walter Marshall #Night Hunter #Nomis #All I've Ever Known #Walter Marshall fan fiction #Henry Cavill fan fiction #Night Hunter fan fiction #Walter Marshall/OFC #HenryCavillFanfic #WalterMarshallFanfic

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presumenothing · 4 years

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FMAB: Daughter of the Dusk – Chapter 8: A Gunshot Through Hope

(A little late, but here’s my non-fic contribution to the fandom in honour of FMA day! The game is quite long overall, so this covers just the first part, which I figured people might be curious about since it ties up the cliffhanger from Prince of the Dawn. Not sure if I’ll do the rest of the game yet, but in the meantime – enjoy this chapter!)

Daughter of the Dusk is the sequel to Prince of the Dawn, which covers Chapters 1-7 of the story, and has a English-subbed playthrough by EnvyPlays (which you should watch first before reading on, obviously). I don’t have either game, so this summary is based on this playthrough by チキンオレ, starting from video 9 in the playlist.

The game is set before the Briggs arc, and picks up directly from where the previous one ended: at the Amestris-Aerugo peace treaty signing ceremony in Central City, with Bradley and Prince Claudio shaking hands onstage. Ed spots Scar in the audience, but he vanishes before Ed can give pursuit.

Meanwhile, up on the radio tower, Hawkeye prepares to snipe Claudio (on Bradley’s orders) with Black Hayate by her side. She takes out her pocketbook to check the ceremony map, and a photo of the team falls out, leading to this moment as she looks at the photo…

HAWKEYE: [silently] I pull this trigger of my own will. [aloud, at Hayate’s worried expression] It’s alright. [aims the rifle at Claudio as he begins his speech] The Hawk’s Eye does not miss. Goodbye, Colonel.

[sound of gunshot, cut to black]

[flashback to before the signing ceremony]

CHAPTER 8: A GUNSHOT THROUGH HOPE

NARRATOR: Central City gladly welcomed “Envoy of Peace” Prince Claudio, whose arrival marked the end of a long war. But the gunshot that rang out at the climax of the festivities – the peace treaty signing ceremony – abruptly turned the celebratory cheers to screams. The beginning can be traced back to several hours before the fated time……

FUHRER’S OFFICE: Envy leaves to bring Hawkeye to the sniper spot. Greed arrives. Bradley assigns him to bring Hawkeye’s rifle from the armoury (G: “How could a sniper forget her rifle?” B: “She couldn’t carry it and get past security.”), and gives him an ID for a weapons dealer so he can get in.

[player character: Greed]

CENTRAL COMMAND - RECEPTION: Greed bluffs his way past (G: Lying is against my creed, but I did promise to do this…), mainly because it turns out Bradley informed them beforehand of his arrival.

CENTRAL COMMAND - ARMOURY 2: Greed notices something odd about a large box, but dismisses it as his imagination, and takes the rifle. Bradley appears, having “coincidentally” passed by. Greed realises this was a test. (B: “This is a tactic that will shake the nation. Who knew if ‘the prince’ would make a racket.”) Bradley then reveals Greed’s next task – blowing up the sniper spot after the deed is done, to erase the evidence and silence Hawkeye.

[PC: Mustang, who is implied to have been hiding in the box Greed noticed]

Mustang thinks about what he overheard – the assassination and silencing of Hawkeye afterwards. (M: “My instinct was spot on, to have picked this as the meeting place! [beat] Time is running out. ……I’ll have to cancel my date. Hang in there.”) He heads out to search for the sniper spot.

CENTRAL COMMAND - LOBBY: A soldier tells Mustang that Hawkeye has gone out, and someone at the entrance might know where she was headed.

At the entrance, best boy™️ Black Hayate barks and proceeds to tug Mustang’s uniform. (M: “What’re you doing! I don’t have time to play with you now…" BH: [growls] M: “Ow ow ow! Let go! [beat] Fine, I’ll follow you! Lead me to where your master is……")

Mustang spots Envy in the city, and deduces that Hawkeye is somewhere nearby. He arrives at the train depot, followed swiftly by Ed looking for Hayate (this scene was seen from Ed’s POV in the previous game, at 13:20 of Part 18). Mustang decides to return Hayate and make Ed leave so they won’t get caught up in this. He reflects on how Hawkeye has been given nothing but tasks opposite to him ever since Claudio arrived, likely because the higher-ups wanted to separate them so he wouldn’t find out about the assassination plan… which didn’t work out, clearly. Hawkeye then arrives (their confrontation was also previously seen from Hawkeye’s POV, at 7:08 of Part 19).

[PC: Fuery]

Fuery wrings his hands over having lost sight of Mustang, Ed, and Hayate. He decides to track down Mustang since something about him had looked off, by asking around if anyone’s seen him.

ENTERTAINMENT DISTRICT: Fuery runs into Vanessa, who is Peak Angry at Mustang for passing by without noticing her at all. She says that he’d headed towards the abandoned factory.

[PC: Mustang]

ABANDONED FACTORY: Fuery finally finds Mustang, who asks what he’s doing here. (F: “Please stop saying such stand-offish things. Something happened, right, Colonel?” M: “You’re no longer under my command. Whatever I do has nothing to do with you.” F: “It does! I’m worried of my own accord!” M: “One after another… I really did get some strong-willed subordinates, huh.”) Scar then appears out of… seemingly nowhere, causing Mustang to dimiss Fuery over his protests, telling him to contact Breda and Falman. Scar and Mustang both declare they don’t have time for this. Scar activates his disintegration alchemy, but Mustang makes a smokescreen with flame alchemy and runs off.

[Time left until the fated moment – 00:59:59]

Having explained the situation to Falman, Breda, and Fuery, Mustang tells them it’s not too late to return to their posts, but of course they reject this offhand. Mustang then says that he’s going to meet Claudio and try to stop the signing ceremony somehow.

[Time left until the fated moment – 00:51:28]

Mustang asks Claudio to not appear at the ceremony, as he is being targeted. Claudio says he was prepared for the danger all along, and a mini-game follows where you have to choose dialogue that will convince him. Mustang says that it’s a plot by rebels within the military (another option says it’s by mysterious aliens, lol) with a sniper known to be a crack shot, though he claims their identity is still under investigation. Claudio then asks the real reason why he’s so determined to stop this, since it might even endanger his standing in the military, and Mustang answers that it’s out of his personal wish of peace. In the end, Claudio declares that he still won’t stop the ceremony just to protect his own life, but he will bear Mustang’s words in mind. Mustang acknowledges this determination, and says that he will do everything he can to foil the plot.

[Time left until the fated moment – 00:32:23]

[PC: Fuery]

Fuery sneaks into the communication room to eavesdrop on transmissions from Bradley’s allies to Hawkeye. After some false alarms (including a report of a woman being detained for carrying a rifle-shaped object and blunt weapon, who turns out to be Winry with automail case and spanner), he catches an exchange between Envy and Hawkeye, and finds out the sniper spot is outside the ceremony area and informs the rest. An emergency report then comes in about an intruder at the back door – it’s Scar.

[PC: Scar]

Scar barges in and destroys things while… monologuing darkly about various things, including his comrades and “that man”. (I’ll be honest, I do not like this Ishvalan terrorist subplot at all so I paid about zero attention to it.) He leaves. Falman and Breda arrive under the pretext of providing backup.

[Time left until the fated moment – 00:24:45]

[PC: Falman]

Falman and Breda head towards the watchtower to look for Hawkeye’s sniper spot. Just to be on the safe side, Falman memorises a guard assignment map of the ceremony area, which turns out useful when a suspicious soldier gives them a literal pop quiz to prove they’re really here as backup. Falman aces it, and Breda sneaks off while he proceeds to distract the soldier… with a long, long, long monologue on the founding of Amestris. Which continues even as the screen fades to black. Who ever said history wasn’t useful?

[Time left until the fated moment – 00:15:22]

[PC: Breda]

Breda sneaks up to the watchtower, and spots Hawkeye through a telescope, at her sniper spot atop the radio tower. He’s then discovered, but manages to send word to Mustang before he’s knocked out.

[Time left until the fated moment – 00:04:48]

[PC: Mustang]

Mustang hears Breda’s message but can’t get any further response from him, and rushes off. Fuery also radios in to warn that Bradley has ordered Mustang’s arrest, saying not to reply before he’s seemingly arrested too. Mustang is then surrounded, but spots a certain gremlin.

[Time left until the fated moment – 00:03:11]

[PC: Ed]

Unsurprisingly, Ed is furious, and proceeds to furiously kick ass via alchemy. Mustang warns him about the plot before leaving. (M: “The Hawk’s Eye is aiming for the stage. She’s being used by them. I don’t want to ask anything of you, but–” E: “Leave it to me.” M: “You’re not surprised? ……so you already noticed.” E: “No. I didn’t know until now.” M: [shrugs with excessive sass])

Other soldiers try to stop Ed, on account of him being Mustang’s ally, leading to an entertaining obstacle course as he dashes towards the stage. (E: “Hah, as if they could keep up with me! [beat] …wait, this isn’t the time for that!”)

We’re now back to the start, at the moment where Claudio begins his speech. From offstage, Ed spots a flash from the radio tower. He rushes forward to tackle Claudio down and gets shot……… on his automail, so it’s all fine!

It gets much less fine a moment later, when the radio tower blows up. Hawkeye pulls Hayate into a hug, trying to shield him as the tower falls onto them, but the entire thing goes up in flames just in time, metal and all. Stunned, Hawkeye turns around amidst the drifting ashes to see none other than…

MUSTANG: Sorry I kept you waiting. You ended up bearing all this alone. HAWKEYE: I chose this myself. MUSTANG: You were trying to protect us, weren’t you? Leave the rest to me. [Hawkeye inhales sharply] Protection is my job. HAWKEYE: Understood.

Meanwhile, back at the ceremony:

AL: Brother! ELENA: Brother! WINRY: Ed! AL: [silently] “Brother”!? Elena definitely said that just now……!

ED: That was close. CLAUDIO: …time to change plans. We’ll retreat for now. [leaves] ED: What was that about……?

There’s a bit more aftermath: Scar talks with another Ishvalan, Envy chews Greed out for letting Hawkeye escape (until Father bitches them out for sibling quarrels), and Bradley says he’ll release Mustang’s team.

We cut to Mustang and Breda right outside the ceremony area:

ED: Is everyone okay!? BREDA: Everyone was let off without censure. Sergeant Fuery, Officer Falman, and Lieutenant Hawkeye are fine too. MUSTANG: “In recognition of heroic actions to save the prince’s life”, apparently. ED: And what about the ceasefire treaty? MUSTANG: It’s taking everything we have just to handle the fallout. About the treaty, or the prince… none of it has been decided. ED: That prince……

AL: [narrating] The prince’s life was saved with Brother’s involvement. It seems that the Fuhrer and his allies had planned from the start to worsen the war by killing the prince. Unaware of all this, Prince Claudio remains in this country, and is said to be hoping to start over on the treaty. But there’s something I’m far more bothered by–

[flashback to Elena shouting “Brother!”]

AL: The word Elena shouted while looking at Prince Claudio… and yet, I wasn’t able to ask her anything. Because it felt like Elena would vanish somewhere, if I did ask……

To be continued.

And last but not least… the trailer for the next chapter!

WINRY: Oh no, it’s terrible! There’s been a case! A locked-room murder! The name of the case is “The Murder of Colonel Roy Mustang”! ED: So you died without achieving your goal… go to your sleep in peace, Colonel. ROY: Hold it right there! I’m still alive! WINRY: I’ll solve this case for sure! I definitely will! Next time, on FMAB: Daughter of the Dusk, Chapter 9 – Automail Mechanic Winry Rockbell’s Splendid Casebook! ROY: Like I said, stop progressing the story however you like! [gets elbowed(??) by Winry] WINRY: Well then, who’s the culprit!?

#fullmetal alchemist #fullmetal alchemist brotherhood #fma #fmab #fma wii #prince of the dawn #daughter of the dusk #fma daughter of dusk #what the heck IS the tag for the game #mine #fma translation #long post #i hope this is a somewhat readable format at least #it was the best i could do within limits of tumblr formatting without making it ridiculously long #ANYWAY YEAH these games do get quite ridiculous at times but i enjoyed watching em more than i expected #especially this part because mustang team shenanigans are always yes #(and also the last part of prince of dawn because riza)#also it's telling that the one line i got seriously stuck on was ed's in the next chap trailer #unsubbed audio will be the actual death of me basically

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lilyrachelcassidy · 4 years

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Summer Nights (1)

A/N: Welcome to the first chapter of my new and long time awaited series - Summer Nights. Please read every necessary information in the INDEX of the story (warnings, summary). Do not forget that the fic is quite mature and might contain some obscene stuff (i.a. alcohol and sexual items). I’ll try to post each chapter regularly (like one per week?) however as it sometimes turns out - I can be unreliable in that matter ( ;

Words: 2.6k

Warnings: coarseness, poverty problems, swearing, alcohol and sexual items (or rather mentions of them?), reference to arranged marriage

Tags: @okaydraco @idkatee @paradigmax @winnsmills @war-sword

You turned your gaze away from a computer screen and looked yearningly out of the window on the chaotic streets of Paris.

At that time of day, the city seemed to teem with life, especially in the summer season when many tourists came over to visit the town. You could notice a variety of cultures among crowds of people. They gathered and filled in restaurants, eating and laughing, and chatting with each other.

So how, for God’s sake, did you deserve to be at work today?

The thought of scrumptious spaghetti and a glass of red wine made you feel frustrated. And cloudless, wonderful weather waiting for you outside did not make it any better. You imagined yourself laying in a bikini on the sandy beach with ‘Vogue’ magazine on your laps and Pina Colada in your hands. Or bathing in warm ocean water with sun rays smoothly tanning your skin.

These visions caused a dreamy smile to appear on your face.

However, as soon as you scooted over in a fantasy world, the poke in your shoulder brought you back to reality. You turned your head to the side to see your co-worker and best friend, Chloe. She was crouching next to your chair with her piercing gaze studying your face attentively.

Chloe was a gorgeous woman, and you could easily say that she could break more than one heart. She had big, blue eyes and long, blonde curls falling on her slim shoulders. She had full, pink lips with a Greek-type nose and prominent cheekbones that highlighted her beauty. Her figure was feminine and slender with ample bosom, flat belly, and long legs.

There had been many situations when groups of passing-by boys stopped her in the middle of the pavement, scanning her body up and down with boisterous whistles and comments of a sexual nature. Although you had always tried to stand up in her defense, she never really cared to bother much, just shrugging it off.

“Are you alright?” She narrowed her eyes doubtfully. “You look like a walking dead.”

“Thanks,” you chuckled amused, bitting your cheek. “No, I’m actually fine. Just a little bit dizzy, but don’t worry about it. ”

“For sure? You know, if you take a nap at work, I might be the first person to know about it.” both of you chortled slightly, and you rested your elbows on the armrest. Chloe’s phone started to buzz in her purse. She took it out, muted it down, and eyed you again.

“Anyways. Why are you leaving so early? It’s just four o’clock, and I thought you were ending your shift at eight.” You peeked at the watch on your hand and arched your eyebrow suspiciously at her. Now it was your turn to interrogate her.

“Well, I took a day off,” she informed you. “I’m having a date with Louis today. We meet at six, and he takes me to some fancy restaurant. Of course, he didn’t want to tell me the exact location, mentioning something about ruining the surprise. You know him..” She rolled her eyeballs playfully with a meaningful sigh and an unambiguous smile plastered on her face.

Louis was Chloe’s boyfriend, but also one of your closest friends. You couldn’t say he was the easy-going type of person, and when you first met him, you had presumed his behavior to be a little bit too ‘self-centered’. However, after many years of acquaintance, you had learned that he was rather desperate to drag attention on himself and impress others, with you and Chloe included.

“Lucky. I’m stuck in here for a night shift,” you complained, leaning on the chair's backrest and letting a small groan out of your mouth. It was the third time this week you had to stay at your job for night time. And that wore you out.

“Again?” She frowned.

“Unfortunately...” You grimaced, glancing at your friend with a corner of your eye. “My father hasn’t paid the bills again. I’ve to earn some extra money…"

"Can I-"

"I know you want to help, but please, let's not think about it," you cut the conversation out. Your face started to get warmer, so you lowered your head as not to show your embarrassment. You trusted your friend with all of your soul but still more than felt awkward when it came up with family topics.

Chloe remained silent and smiled supportively, tightly gripping your palm. You appreciated her ability to understand people’s emotions and her tact of how to respond to them.

“I really have to go, Y/N. Call me if you needed any help.” Chloe stood up and went to the backroom of the reception. She put on her coat, wrapping her green bandana around her neck, and then slightly pecked your cheek. She walked over to the exit and, for the last time, turned towards you, waved in the bye, and left the hotel.

You gaped at the place where Chloe had just disappeared, slowly letting out your breath. After a while, you switched the laptop back on and decided to occupy yourself with reading. Clicking on the ‘iBooks’ application, you selected a book - ‘Bridget Jones’s Diary’. Maybe, at least that could help you take your mind off things and spend some of your time while visitors weren’t around. You opened the first chapter of the novel, but soon after, you heard someone entering the room again.

Lifting your head, you beheld an elegant woman with a younger boy by her side. You assumed them to be a family, considering their striking similarity in appearance. Also, they distinguish themselves from their surroundings with their peculiarly sophisticated garments and unnaturally pale skin.

The woman smiled at you kindly and approached the reception desk. You got up from the chair and reciprocated the gesture.

“Bonjour madame. Comment puis-je vous aider?” you asked and saw a confused expression painting on the woman’s face. She furrowed her eyebrows for a short moment and cleared her throat.

“Mm… Hello. Do you speak English?” she asked hesitantly with a language accent that informed you instantly of her origin. Many guests of the hotel usually arrived from different parts of the world, which had let you acquire the skill of guessing their probable nationalities.

“You’re British I see,” you noted, grinning. “Of course I do. Welcome to Paris! How can I help you?”

“We have a reservation under the name Malfoys.”

Nodding in understanding, your fingers swiftly started to tap the keyboard of the computer. You entered in the search engine of hotel’s guests with surname ‘MALFOYS’ and found a booking for two people.

“Could I check your ID cards first, ma’am?” you asked and saw her rummaging in the bag. Meanwhile, you started to prepare every necessary paper for her to fill out.

“Here it is,” she finally stated, and you reached over for the documents. You noticed the woman’s foot nervously tapping on the floor but decided to ignore it.

“Thank you,” you said while surveying everything. “Okay, so - Narcissa Malfoy, apartment number 354 - Presidential Suite. It’s on the fourth floor.” You laid the keys with ID cards on a counter top. “And Dra- Dra…”

“Draco. It’s Draco Malfoy,” the boy spoke up for the first time, and - by the tone of his voice - you could already judge that he wasn’t the friendliest type of a person, to say at least. You moved your gaze on his figure, and your eyes met with his stern glare, which sent unpleasant shivers down your spine. He was sitting on one of the lounge chairs located in the room, twisting a carved stick in his fingers. Quickly realizing that you stared at the object, he hid it in his pocket.

You giggled nervously and shook your head.

“Yes. Draco Malfoy. I’m sorry for my oversight.” You blushed profusely and tried your best to pretend that your pre-momentary blunder did not affect you anyhow. You took a second key from a shelf and placed it next to the first one. “Room number 355 - Royal Apartment. Although, it on the fifth floor, which means not located nearby your mom's one, sir."

“No problem for me.” Huffing, he got up from the armchair and walked over, grabbing the keys. His expression still evinced the arrogance, but now you had a chance to examine his appearance more closely and perceive his unparalleled attractiveness. His platinum hair suitably contrasted with grey irises, and the sharp jawline with his muscular body made your knees weak.

Just great...

“If there is anything you needed, please let me know,” you proffered and forced a smile, wishing it didn’t look so fake as it felt. “I hope you enjoy your stay.”

“Thank you,” said Narcissa, sauntering away with her son following shortly after. You took a last peek at Draco and saw him sending you an unpleasant look before leaving the lobby.

* * *

Narcissa with Draco entered her spacious hotel room. She began to look around the space, smacking her lips in delight. After that, she sat gingerly on her bed and discretely ran her fingers through the bedding set so as to verify its fabric. Draco knew and was accustomed to his mother’s atypical habit of checking the quality of things before using them.

She patted a place next to her, encouraging him to take a seat. He just pressed his lips into a straight line and only shook his head.

“Draco, let’s talk,” she started, grunting.“I think you should - at least - consider being tolerant of those muggles. I know it is a tough period of our lives, after the war...” Narcissa shuddered at the reference of that event and her eyes filmed over a little. “But it is time to move on. Wizarding World is not going to be this same for many years. That’s why for this vacation, I wanted us to come to the place that could let you dispose of redundant memories and experien-”

“Dispose of memories?” Draco cut her off and huffed, leaning flippantly against the wall. His voice was very tight and harsh.“How do you think I could possibly get rid of them? Maybe Dark Mark on my forearm would help me solve that issue? Or Obliviate spell would be a solution?”

At once, the blood was boiling in his veins. He didn’t blame his mother for decisions of the past, but he could not stop himself from snapping. A recollection of tortures he had had to perform on others, of tortures he had had to bear himself, of incurred deaths he had seen… and committed. That wasn’t a fleeting thing to forget.

Narcissa took a deep breath and ignored her son’s snarky comment. She decided not to give up with the plan of their conversation for this evening. So and so, he had to finally hear the truth, right?

“I and your father with Greengrass family established that by the end of this year, you are going to propose to one of their daughters.” She gazed at him, partly expecting the next outburst of emotions. Although Draco’s ears began dangerously reddening, she assumed the silence was a non-verbal acquiescence for her to continue. “You do not have to worry about arrangements for the nuptials, nor about other wedding cases. Everything is going to be organized. And I deeply believe that marring one of those beautiful girls might bring a state of contentment in your life.”

Draco gulped down his saliva and fixed his eyes on the floor, his face expressing wrath.

“I’m sorry mother, but I’ve no idea how marrying a person who I’ve hardly ever talked to could make me any happier.”

“Dear, me and Lucius did not fall in love at first sight either. Nevertheless, we accepted the unusual plight that we were put in, and then we got accustomed to leading our new, joint lifestyle,” she explained, carefully choosing her words. “And I am aware that it must be hard for you. So and it was for me. But now, I could not imagine it to be any different.”

“Well then, if you felt this same way as I do right now, please tell me why are you expecting this same from me by imposing the marriage? Why can’t I choose someone to fall in love with?”

Good point.

Narcissa seemed to be momentarily speechless by his question because there was an awkward, uncomfortable pause for a long moment. Draco sniggered loudly and turned away to leave, but before doing so, his mom’s voice echoed in the room again.

“Love is only a matte-“ she took her last try to argue, her tone rather desperate.

“I don’t care!” he yawped, turning the knob and slamming the door behind him with a violent bang.

Draco headed over to search for a bar where he could abreact the minute-ago conversation. The tension of his body was unbearably upsetting, and his heart was pounding aggressively in his rib cage. His fists clutched tightly, knuckles becoming white and teeth clenched.

Fuck his parents.

Fuck them with their shitty ideas.

When would be a time for him to be able to determine his own opinions about matters in his life? Or rather, the doubt is - would there ever be that time?

Before he knew it, he found himself in this same lobby where he had been an hour ago. As he walked over to the recently encountered receptionist, he spotted her writing something vigorously on an odd, square box. As to not arise any suspicion, he decided to act casually and hide his enticing interest in this particular... object.

Soon enough, you noticed the blond-haired boy and realized it was the man from earlier. A bump formed in your throat, and you fought a sudden urge to run away. Instead, you just set your phone aside and lifted yourself up, all your muscles refusing to do this same activity for the thousandth time this day (‘Is this some kind of aerobic or what?!’).

“Is there something I could help with, sir?” you asked with a smile, trying to remain calm, which was an exceptionally intractable task in this boy’s presence. Maybe as an effect of tiredness, it was hard for you to compose, but you did not like it a bit.

“Yes, actually.” At least he took his best effort to be polite. Although a horrible exasperation, as if something pained him, still convulsed his features. “I wondered if there was a place where I could have some Firewhisky or so?”

‘Firewhisky?’ you thought. ‘Is it some kind of British dainty?’

“Well, for sure I haven’t heard of heating up Whisky before,” you joked, attempting to lighten things up. However, his glare gave you a hint he was definitely not put in a mood for such things.“But there is a pub where you could have a drink, sir. It’s on the opposite street, so all you need to do is to cross over a road.”

Draco nodded. "Oh, and one more thing." He reached over to the inner pocket of his sable jacket and took out an ornamental envelope with an old-fashioned red seal on the top of it. "If the woman who I was with before starts looking after me, hand her over this letter, could you?"

You didn't know where an uninvited rush of interest hailed from, but the mystery-insatiate part of your brain screamed out at you to play along with his cards to winkle out more information. "What if she asks me questions? Shoul-"

"Bend the truth. I only ask you to do one thing for me. Don't reveal to her where or when I went. I gave you the envelope and disappeared out of your sight. Understood, muggle?"

You didn't grasp the last part of his sentence; the one concerning --mugel? meagul? megull? -- but you could bet it meant to be an insult. Swallowing your suspicious hunch, you put on a sympathetic smile. "Sure can do, sir. Hope you have a good night out."

"Thanks. Later." And without any other word, he strode away.

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heartbreaknow · 4 years

Text

Vampire!Peter Imagine

I’ve been sitting on my vampire!Peter imagine for a couple of months now, thinking about whether there’s any chance I might want to turn it into an actual fic, ever. But this week seems to be vampire!Starker week on tumblr (\o/), so I’m just gonna post the damn thing before I completely miss the boat.

NOTE: This takes a bit to get dirtysexy y’all, but it gets there eventually. This has been my one effort at self-promotion. That is all. 👍

The way it starts is: Peter gets bitten by something while on an Avengers mission in space. (Ever since the whole situation with Thanos, space missions have become a thing they occasionally do, much to Peter’s delight and Tony’s…whatever the absolute furthest thing from delight is.) So there they are, trekking through an oddly echo-less cave on some alien planet, and suddenly some kind of creature—smallish and not overly threatening—bites Peter and then skitters away into the darkness before he can even get a look at it.

By the time they get back to the ship, Peter can’t find any trace of a mark from the bite, and he’s not even sure how something could bite through his suit anyway, and honestly, Peter’s not sure he didn’t just imagine it. Maybe something in his suit just went haywire for a second and jabbed him. That could happen, right?

The Avengers return from the mission and everything is fine for a couple of days.

But then Peter begins feeling mysteriously light-sensitive and feverish, and by the time a week has passed he finds himself developing a…craving. At first, he can’t even put his finger on what it is he’s craving, but over time it begins to distill into a strange, relentless kind of hunger, and a corresponding urge to- well- bite people. (The first time Peter notices it, he’s in the lab with Mr Stark, and it goes away when he leaves the lab. But pretty soon its become a constant nagging hunger.)

Peter tries to ignore it for as long as possible, kind of downplaying it to himself and assuming it’ll pass, because it’s just too weird to really be happening. But the longer it goes on, the sicker he feels, and the hungrier he gets.

Until one night, nearly two weeks after the space mission, Peter finds a lost dog while he’s dragging himself weakly through his nightly patrol. The dog has an ID tag, so he catches it, with the intent of returning it to its owners—but then everything gets kind of weird in his head, and he goes into some kind of trance and drinks the dog’s blood. Which is horrifying, obviously, and also just objectively super gross.

Clearly, ignoring the blood-thirst and denying there’s a problem isn’t working.

(Also, even though the dog’s blood satisfies the obsessive hunger that’s been building in him for days, it tastes foul and gives him a massive stomach ache.)

So Peter, who is now very much freaking out, goes straight to Tony and explains the symptoms he’s experiencing. At first he kind of hedges a little, and doesn’t immediately tell Tony about the dog, because he can’t bear for Mr Stark to look at him with disgust. Unfortunately, that leads to Mr Stark not really getting how serious it is. He just makes a Lucy the vampire bride joke, and suggests it’s some kind of spidey version of Pica; asks how Peter’s nutrition is; tells Peter he’s a growing superhero, and he can’t subsist on ramen and Gatorade alone.

Until finally Peter blurts out, “Idrankadog’sblood!”

It’s kind of a showstopper.

Tony’s like, “Um, excuse me, you—you killed a dog?”

Peter is instantly aghast. “What? No! Oh my god, no, I just…bit it…some. And then I found its owners.” And then, after a second’s pause: “Oh god, what if the dog is a vampire now? And I just left it with that nice family! I’ve gotta go warn them!”

As it turns out, the dog is not a vampire. But Peter…kind of is?

Apart from the dog-biting incident, Peter has also suddenly grown a pair of retractable fangs, his pupils react weirdly to light, and when stimulated, his fangs disgorge a small amount of some kind of venom—the properties of which they are working on isolating.

As soon as they prove there is in fact something happening to Peter, Tony is immediately adamant they will find a cure for whatever it is. But the first couple days of tests yield no real answers, and by then Peter is getting hungry again.

That’s about the time they discover Peter vomits up bagged blood pretty violently. So that’s Plan A off the table.

When Peter starts looking sallow and jittery, and Tony notices him chewing his own lip until it bleeds and then licking up the blood, Tony thinks, Fuck it, and goes out and buys him a nice, robust-looking American Bulldog. PETA can sue him.

Peter tries to refuse Mr Stark’s, uh, provision, but his protests are weak. He’s so hungry. It doesn’t take long before he gives in.

Unfortunately, dog blood doesn’t work so well the second time around. This time, the taste is so foul Peter can barely keep it down, and what’s worse, within minutes of feeding he’s doubled over with the worst stomach pain of his life

They try a couple other types of animals, with the same results: nauseating flavor and crippling stomach pain.

So alright, Plan B is maybe not as viable as they thought it was, either.

Peter puts on a brave face, and insists that it’s fine, he doesn’t need to eat. He can tough it out, at least for a little while longer. But after another couple of days, he looks like death warmed over, and Tony suspects he doesn’t feel much better than he looks.

Also, Peter starts keeping at least a couple of steps between himself and Tony in the lab at all times. And when, out of habit, Tony gets close enough to give his shoulder a squeeze, Peter jerks away lightning fast, and Tony swears he sees a glint of something in Peter’s mouth, right before he clamps it shut.

So yeah, Tony’s worried about him.

The fifth morning without blood, Peter doesn’t show up in the lab.

Worried, Tony goes to check on him.

He barely makes it three steps into Peter’s room before he finds himself pinned to Peter’s bedroom door, with a black-eyed, fangy Peter leaning into him, panting and staring at his neck.

This new Peter, with his needle-sharp cuspids, and his demonic-possession eyes, should be terrifying—and it’s not that he isn’t, per se. It’s just that he’s Peter. And Tony remembers how Peter didn’t kill the dog either time he fed, even though he must’ve been pretty damn desperate the first time. So instead of trying to get free, or snap Peter out of it, Tony looks Peter right in his black, iris-less eyes, and says, “Okay, kid. Mealtime,” and tilts his head to the side, baring his neck. Then he reaches up, and guides Peter down.

Being bitten is incomparable to anything Tony’s ever felt before. It’s weird, and unnerving, and intimate, and probably incredibly dangerous. And Tony really, really wishes it didn’t feel so goddamn good.

He has enough to feel guilty about as it is (his feelings for the kid are something he’s been studiously not looking too closely at for a while now). He really doesn’t need to add “My mentee’s in the middle of a serious health crisis and I can’t stop thinking about what it felt like to have him latched onto my neck like the world’s hottest leech” to his laundry list of mental depravity.

When Peter’s head clears after the feeding, he freaks out and basically flees the tower, horrified at what he’s done.

A couple hours later he’s back again, looking defeated and miserable, and not meeting Tony’s eyes. He realizes he can’t be trusted to be among the general population unmonitored until they know more about his condition. And if whatever is wrong with him gets worse and they need to lock him up, the tower and the compound are the only places with rooms that can reliably contain him.

The second time Peter feeds from Tony, Tony suggests that Peter try feeding from his wrist instead. It’s mainly for his own sanity that he makes the suggestion, but outwardly he reasons that wrist feeding is probably safer and more comfortable for them both. Peter nods quietly and agrees, eyes meeting Tony’s and then quickly skittering away.

Tony does find the sensation somewhat less overwhelming when Peter feeds from his wrist instead of his neck—but only somewhat. It still feels bizarrely, almost maddeningly good, like somehow Peter’s feeding has turned his wrist into an erogenous zone. Or possibly his entire body.

Peter and Tony quickly find themselves falling into a routine: research, data collection, tests, and feedings.

Peter will hold off from feeding until his pupils begin to dilate and his skin gets sallow, and the way he looks at Tony as he moves around the lab begins to take on a sharp, slightly animal quality. Then, when Tony is pretty sure Peter’s desperate enough to actually give in, he says, very clearly, very directly, “Kid, come here,” and gestures Peter over with a jerk of his head that’s a hell of a lot more casual than he feels. And just like that, Peter goes to him.

At first, Tony thinks the feeling of Peter feeding from him might become less intense once he gets used to it, but it doesn’t work out that way. A bit the opposite, truthfully.

After a couple of weeks, Tony finds himself fixating: on Peter’s mouth, on his pliant lips and his defined jaw, on he way it hinges open over Tony’s pounding pulse-point. He finds himself growing to love the way Peter ends up curled around his arm every time he feeds, his side pressed against Tony’s front, tucked in close, shoulder to sternum. Generally Tony has to find something to brace against, or Peter will push him off balance with the force of his hunger.

Tony finds that the site where Peter has bitten him begins to feel hot and over-sensitive constantly, but especially right before a feeding. Like there’s too much blood too close to the surface.

Tony finds himself wanting to give Peter what he needs over and over again. Craving it, even.

But Peter’s made it pretty clear that no matter how much this thing in his head enjoys feeding, he himself hates it, and is intent on doing it as infrequently as possible. (Peter’s never overtly said he hates it, not in so many words, but the way he refuses to feed until he’s famished, and the tense, nervous way he looks at Tony whenever it’s getting close to meal time, is pretty eloquent.) And Tony can’t—won’t—allow himself to undermine Peter’s resolve about this. Not when the kid’s just trying to hang onto as much autonomy as he can while this thing runs roughshod over his hierarchy of needs.

So he watches Peter constantly, looking for signs of hunger—then forces himself not to say anything once he does see the signs. He makes himself wait while Peter works through the craving, hour after hour, his eyes getting slowly darker each time Tony catches one of his furtive glances. Until eventually Tony can’t stand it anymore.

When he unbuttons his shirt cuff and calls Peter to him, it’s all he can do to make it sound like a casual offer.

Tony hates himself for enjoying it—the feedings. For practically getting off on them. For literally getting off on them, later, when he’s by himself—his bruised, throbbing wrist shoved against his own mouth, tonguing lewdly at the place where Peter’s snake-like cuspids slid sharpnumbhot into his skin. Fuck. His other hand shoved down his boxers, jacking himself off to the thought of how Peter always clings to him as he feeds—how he struggles to stay lucid and only ever half succeeds. Tony tries not to think about Peter’s slippery tongue chasing a droplet of blood down his neck, the very first time he ever fed off Tony. He tries not to think about Peter’s mouth while he fucks furiously into his own fist, smothering a groan. Peter’s innocent mouth, smeared red and panting. Fuck, oh, fuck.

Tony hates himself for it, all of it. But he can’t stop.

- - - - END - - - -

It’s killing me to leave it here because I have so many more bullet point ideas written out for this imagine. But on the off chance I ever write some of this as an actual fic, I don’t want to have described the entire thing before hand. So I guess I’ll quit here.

But for context: I kind of like the idea of paired feeding being habit-forming for both parties. So like, not only does it feel really, really good, but over time they both start to get kind of physiologically addicted to it.

I’m thinking maybe whatever weird-ass critter bit Peter, feeding is part of its mating ritual. Like, maybe it’s a symbiotic pair-bonding species that mates for life, and determines the suitability of its mate base on how well the blood-drinking half takes to the blood-providing half’s blood, and how well the blood-providing half responds to the blood-drinking half’s venom. (Yes, this is really putting the pseudo in pseudoscience. Just go with it?)

The problem for Peter and Tony is that, despite being profoundly compatible, they keep repeating the mating behavior over and over without resolution—thus causing things to kind of...escalate.

#starker #starker imagine #peter x tony #vampire!peter #nff #not horror at all #but some light horror elements herein #sexy biological imperatives are my jam

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bits-bobs-and-barnes · 5 years

Text

Corrupted Heart {Quentin Beck x Stark!Reader}

Warnings: kidnapping, mentions of alcohol and swearing, restraints, the slightest hint of non-con (but no nasty yet ;0)

{Author’s Note: Another new character! I hope you like this concept and how I portrayed Beck! Leave me feedback, or ask to be tagged! Like and reblog if you liked the fic, and help my blog! Enjoy!}

Tags: @legendsaresooftenwarnings @jilldsumner @chonisberonica

The booze tasted warm on his lips, and it burned on the way down. His eyes squeezed closed and he tried to channel his nervous energy back into something productive. The paper-bag crinkled noisily in his grasp, the cement was solid beneath him, and he could hear the buzz of traffic behind him.

New York was alive at this time of night, thousands and thousands of lights twinkling down every street, everyone around him carrying out their own conversations-- ignoring the man who’s entire world was shattered at his feet.

Early today, Tony Stark had made a mockery of his life’s work. The shame, the rage that he felt in that moment played back in his mind, and justified the resignation he’d filed an hour later. His ID badge would work for the rest of the night, and he was told to collect his things before they were removed.

Quentin set the bottle on the curb, and drew a deep breath, straightening his posture and allowing himself some dignity. He pushed open the glass door, and presented his badge to the night security guard, feeling his heart pound as the man looked through his bag-- before finally letting him through.

The normally chaotic Stark Tower was quiet at this time of night, and Quentin was thankful that he had a slim chance of running into any coworkers or anyone for that matter as he approached the elevator banks. He could feel the eyes of the security guard at his back, feeling his hair stand on end as he stepped inside, and waited for the doors to close.

The moment he was alone, he set to work. Securing the phone-shaped device to the panel inside the elevator, he closed his eyes and said a prayer, hitting the top floor button. If he was lucky, the device could circumvent the keycard required to reach the residential floors of Stark Tower-- and avoid setting off any alarms in the process.

The telltale whir of the elevator zooming upwards meant that the little trinket had served its purpose. His eyes widened in glee, and he silently breathed a sigh of relief. Thank God. The hardest part was over.

Tony, to his credit, was practically invincible. The network of security, the Iron Man suits, and the other measures to keep him from harm were too advanced for Beck to handle alone. But you, his only daughter, were astoundingly unprotected. Maybe it was ego? Maybe Tony thought that only a madman would break into Stark Tower and risk waking the entire Avengers team?

Now, it was just a matter of convincing you to come with him.

---

You’d never met Quinten Beck before, never taken a second to glance in his direction-- why would you? He was another of hundreds of your father’s employees, and a meek one at that. He’d never made a pass at you, never asserted himself beyond greeting you in passing one morning in the lobby.

Your hair was tied back, a toothbrush poking out from between your lips as you wandered the kitchen-- looking for a misplaced water-bottle. A few of the Avengers had gone out on a rare Friday without a mission, and invited you to a night of drinking and dancing-- which you’d kindly turned down. You wanted to give your dad a night with his friends, allow him a little fun for once, and were happy to retire to a night of watching TV and an early bedtime.

The elevator dinged from the other room, and you frowned. It was barely ten-- they shouldn’t have been back yet. Pulling out the toothbrush, and setting it on the counter, you stepped out into the living room. “Hello?” You approached the elevator, seeing the doors open, and no one inside.

Quinten was very still, waiting until you were nearly inside the elevator before he lunged. One of his arms snapped around your waist, his other lifting to cover your mouth. “Stay quiet,” he hissed in warning, feeling the warmth of your skin through the thin cotton of your pajamas. “I’m not going to hurt you.”

You felt a chill shoot up your spine, and you thought back to the training Natasha had given you a few months ago. She’d held you just like this, and told you where to start kicking. You started to struggle, and threw back a foot, aiming for that sweet-spot between the legs-- and found yourself suddenly free of his grasp, pushed forward into the elevator, stumbling. You spun around, expecting some thug or a darkly dressed villain, and finding... Beck. “Help!” You called, knowing that hardly anyone would be awake to hear your cries for aid.

He was dressed plainly, but there was determination in his eyes as he stepped forward to interpose himself between you and the door. “I told you to be quiet,” he chided, stepping forward and taking a grip of your arm, pulling you closer to him. Suddenly, realization dawned on him. You weren’t screaming as much as you should’ve been, and your shoulders were heavy with defeat? “They’re all gone, aren’t they?” He asked, pushing the button for the Parking garage, and fixing you with those intense eyes. “The Avengers? They left you all alone?”

You didn’t answer, defiant.

A flicker of happiness rippled through him. Perfect. It seemed like fate was on his side tonight. “Here’s what’s going to happen,” he purred, free hand moving to gently caress your hip, thumb toying with the elastic waistband of your shorts. “You’re going to play nice, and tell me which one is your car. Then, we’re going to go for a drive. What happens after that,” he shrugged, “that’s up to you-- if you’re good,” his grip got a little tighter on your arm, “we can some fun.” There was no mistaking his tone... you were prettier in person, frankly. “But if you act up,” he pushed you back sternly until you were pressed up against the steel wall of the elevator. “I have no problems killing you, Y/N.” It was a lie, bold-faced one, but one he needed to keep you in line-- and keep you from screaming again.

You were silent, weighing your options. If you cooperated, you could bide your time-- planning an escape, or waiting for your dad to rescue you. Working your jaw, you sighed under your breath, and spoke. “Fine,” you answered, “I’ll be good.”

---

It was easy from there. True to his word, Beck didn’t hurt you or manhandle you in any way, even allowing you to walk on your own to the car, confident that you’d honor the deal. He was only a few steps behind, he didn’t see the harm. When you got to the car though, he stopped you, poking through the clutter in his bag to find a large zip-tie, and gesturing for you to hold out your wrists.

“Really?” You put your hands on your hips, looking at the rough plastic with distaste. “How cliche can you be?”

He rolled his eyes and stepped forward, easily taking your wrists and holding them together while he tightened the restraints around them. “I can’t have you attacking me while I drive,” he justified, stepping back and admiring his work, while hiding how strange the whole thing felt. He wasn’t a kidnapper, he wasn’t a criminal, and as the booze wore off-- he began to realize the repercussions of what he was doing. Even if he didn’t hurt you, even if he let you go right now, he’d be in prison the second Stark found him. The damage was done-- and by the time he let you go, he’d be drowning in legal fees. “There,” he let go of your wrists, and guided you into the passenger seat, taking the wheel and beginning to drive out of the darkened garage. He was silent, for a little, entering traffic and doing his best to keep from looking at you.

“Who are you?” You asked softly, fully turned in your seat to inspect him, memorizing the details of his face. There was stubble decorating his chin, and his eyes flicked in your direction as you addressed him.

Ah, what the hell. “I’m Quentin Beck,” he introduced himself, his eyes returning to the road a second later. “I used to work for your father.” He added, as though it justified what he was doing.

That tracked. It seemed Tony liked to burn as many bridges as he built, and it wasn’t hard to imagine that a former employee would come after you-- it wasn’t the first time one had attempted. “What department?” You asked, filling the air as you wiggled in the tight bonds, making no headway at releasing yourself.

“R&D,” he answered, surprised you weren’t more... resentful of him. “I helped develop the--”

“--augmented reality drones, right?” You concluded, allowing the slightest ounce of passion to seep into your tone, losing the neutrality you had. Admittedly, you thought the tech was cool, useful even, but had only looked at it a few times in passing. Your father had just presented it at MIT this morning, after months of work from R&D in the background to get it running. “I saw them this morning at the exposition, they worked well.”

He was stunned, and his mind spun as he struggled to maintain control over the situation. “Thank you?” Had you been there? Why hadn’t he seen you backstage? Had you seen him?

“So, what went wrong? Why,” you lifted your wrists as if to demonstrate, “am I involved?”

He flushed, thinking over his answer. It sounded so stupid now, so poorly planned, without a thought for the consequences at the time. “I wanted to hurt him, and he cares about you.” He answered plainly. “I never planned to hurt you, I just wanted him to feel what it’s like to have someone take something from him.” He glanced over as the came to a stop at a red-light. “I wanted to take everything from him.”

A pit formed in your stomach. “Oh,” you breathed, looking out the window as your heart pounded against your ribs. You had almost broken the apparatus, if you could just get a minute more to fiddle with it!

He refocused his attention on the road, feeling some of the tension leave his shoulders the further they got from Stark Tower. Maybe he could convince you that this had all been a big mistake, and let you go before Tony had even realized you were missing, maybe he could take you to dinner instead?

The audible click of the breaking plastic brought a second of pause, as both of you processed that you were no longer tied. Too many things happened at once. Quentin slammed on the brakes, sending you both lurching forward as he swerved to pull over.

You tried to grab for the door-handle, but sooner found yourself thrown against the door as Quentin’s erratic driving took its toll. You groaned and your temples throbbed, barely hearing the click of the locks as he ensured you wouldn’t run out into traffic.

“I thought you were going to be good?” His tone was furious, and very nearly betrayed. Had you been flattering him to lower his guard? “I was going to let you go,” his voice shook as he reached over, taking a handful of your hair and pulling sharply, forcing you to meet his eyes. “But since you can’t behave, it looks like I’m going to have to punish you.” His eyes flashed with darkness and anger, putting the car in park, and opening his door. “Get out.”

Fear welled up in your chest. You didn’t know this neighborhood, and you were far from anything you knew. You could run... but where would you go? You stepped out of the vehicle, shivering against the cold and walking around the car to meet Beck.

He eyed you with a new intent now... a darker one. He could see the slight tremble of your fingers, the harshly bitten lip, the shining eyes that spoke of uncertainty. You had no idea what he was capable of, and that excited him. He could get back at Tony a different way, he decided. Who’s to say revenge couldn’t be sweet?

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