#Clark how dare you be so strong

[devsblurbs]

Sex Pollen — B . Blake

Summary – Reader and Bellamy have always hated each other, from the moment the ship landed they were constantly at each others throats. Clarke having had enough of it for the evening, sends them away to go cover some more ground outside of the camp. They come across a clearing of some flowers, but they aren’t normal flowers, and the pollen does something to them.

Warnings - 18+ MDNI , smut , unprotected sex , oral ( f received ) , degrading , use of praise , strong language , some angst , choking , biting

Word count - 5.6k

The chilled air of the evening hummed with tension, it hung in the air heavily, like a weight crushing everyone around down into the soil. Y/n and Bellamy stood in the center of their little camp, the campfire’s embers crackling in the background, a soft contrast to their raised voices

Everyone around knew not to get involved or get into the middle of it when they were fighting, it was futile. From the moment they had landed, those two had been at eachothers throats. They couldn’t be around one another for more than a few seconds without some kind of argument following.

She hated the way Bellamy thought he was better than everyone else, and even more so she hated that he was rash and always thought he was right. No one ever really questioned him, except for her. He hated how stubborn she was, how she could never just listen to what he had to say. She always had some sort of snarky remake to fire back, she simply could never leave anything he said alone.

Most of the time Y/n had a fair point, she was more strategic with her plans. She took the little details into consideration, while Bellamy didn’t, but god forbid she try to tell him he’s wrong.

“You think your way is always the right one, don’t you?” Y/n said to him, her fists clenched tightly to her sides.

They had been going for the past half an hour, back and forth about some plan Bellamy had thrown together, and when Y/n caught wind of it, and its recklessness she couldn’t stop herself from saying something to him.

“And you think your plans are any better?” He practically spat out her, his tone laced with annoyance.

She simply laughed, causing a confused expression to quickly flash across his features. probably wondering in his head what the hell she found so funny, as if reading his mind she was quick to answer that question.

“Not that you’d ever admit it, but do you realize how many times me interjecting has saved your ass, or saved the whole camp the trouble of your half assed plan going backwards. You never take the whole picture into consideration!”

God she sure knew how to push his buttons, how dare she stand her and yell at him like that. Right before he could fire back, Clarke, who had been watching silently with crossed arms, finally stepped forward clearly having enough of the two’s screaming match.

“Enough!” Clarke snapped, the two of them turned towards her slightly startled but both still blistering with rage.

“I’m sick and tired of listening to you two screaming at eachother,” She huffed out, “Go out there.” She gestured toward the dense forest beyond the camp, leaving the two to look at her like she was insane.

Y/n scoffed, glaring at Bellamy before returning her gaze to Clarke. “You’ve got to be out of your mind-” Before Y/n could continue, Clarke shut it down, interjecting, “Frankly, I don’t give a shit right now. Just go survey the area, or kill each other, I don’t care which. I’m done listening to your guys bickering for tonight.”

They both weren’t amused by this, but they also knew it wasn’t worth arguing. The faster they left, the faster they could come back and go their separate ways.

Both still simmering with frustration and anger, they grabbed guns and headed for the gates of their little camp, heading out. The silence was tense and eerie as the trees swallowed them whole, not bothering to spare each other a glance, let alone waste air talking.

Bellamy and Y/n trudged through the dense forest, their footsteps crunching against the fallen leaves and snapping twigs, guns slung over both of their shoulders, scowls resting on their faces clearly not amused with the task at hand.The tension between them lingered in the air like a storm cloud though neither had spoken since leaving the camp.

Branches reached out like skeletal fingers, brushing against their arms as the canopy above darkened, and the temperature steadily dropped. They swayed in the light breeze, moving back and forth as to come out and grab onto them. The forest grew quieter, save for the occasional rustle of unseen creatures.

Looking around cautiously, her foot tripped over a tree stump, she was quick to catch herself, mumbling under her breath about how this whole thing was stupid. As if she wasn’t already annoyed enough, he just had to speak up.

“Watch your step.” He muttered, much to her dismay breaking the silence that settled over them.

She scoffed but didn’t respond, she wasn’t in the mood for his bullshit, and now too focused on the uneven terrain, now determined not to trip again, she refused to give him another reason to criticize her.

After more trudging through the thick woods, they emerged from the dense eerie trees into a clearing, the sight causing both of them to freeze right in their tracks.

Under the pale glow of the moonlight, the clearing unfolded like something out of a dream– or a nightmare. Hundreds of flowers blanketed the ground, the petals shimmering faintly, glowing almost as the moonlight hit them. They ranged from light blues, to violets, and pinks, their colors shifting with each movement of air hitting them.

The silence was heavier, almost sacred. Even the crickets and birds seemed to have fallen silent, leaving only the soft whisper of the breeze.

“Y/n..” He finally spoke, his voice uncharacteristically soft, “What the hell is this place?”

It was clear he was feeling uneasy, nervous almost. A feeling settled into his gut, something telling him that they shouldn’t be there.

She stepped forward more towards the flowers, her boots brushing against the edge of them, “I don’t know.. I’ve never seen anything like this.”

He followed closely behind her, as they moved deeper into the clearing the hairs on the back of his neck stood up, a gut wrenching feeling creeping up his spine. Something wasn’t right, this wasn’t natural.

“This doesn’t feel right,” he muttered, the heavy air weighing down his chest.

She crouched down to touch one of the flowers, the petals silky and cold against her slender fingers, but there was something strange about them.

“They look like they’re glowing.” She whispered, staring deeply at them, she was almost mesmerized. She knew they weren't normal, but she wasn’t as skeptical of them as Bellamy was.

His Gaze darted around the clearing, his hand instinctively resting on the hilt of his knife, “We shouldn’t be here, this place.. It’s not natural.”

She straightened up, her eyes narrowing at him, of course he’d find a way to try to ruin something beautiful.

“You’re paranoid, they’re just flowers. Not everything is out to kill us, Bellamy.”

He simply scoffed, “Really? Because from the moment we’ve landed, a lot of strange shit has happened.”

She went to argue back, but shut her mouth, she couldn’t really argue with that. They’ve run into so many issues, and dangerous things from the moment their feet planted onto the soil. Silence overtook them again, her eyes scanning over the flowers, all shining in the faint glow of the moon casting down from the opening in the trees above them. Her skin raised with goosebumps as the cold air nipped at her.

“I don’t know, they’re strangely beautiful..” She spoke softly, a side of her Bellamy never got to hear, it was foreign to his ears.

The breeze picked up causing her to shiver a bit, the flowers swaying more and more. She watched them move, they almost danced to a silent melody as they moved, it was almost hypnotic. Her usual rough piercing gaze was replaced by one of awe, as she stared at them.

“Yeah, that doesn’t mean they aren’t dangerous though.” He said, his eyes still cautiously looking around. Before he could speak again, a gust of wind swept through the clearing, the flowers swayed violently, a stark contrast to the melodic moving they once did, as they moved a shimmering cloud of pollen filled the air around them. The golden particles sparkled in the moonlight, almost like tiny floating stars as it invaded their lungs.

“What the hell..” He was quick to cover his mouth and nose with his arm, in an attempt to not breathe in any more of the pollen.

She staggered backwards a bit, coughing as the pollen swirled around them, it seemed to cling to the air, invasive and inescapable, its presence unerringly warm in the cold of the night.

“Don’t.. breathe it in,” He said between coughs, though it was already far too late for that. The shimmering pollen seemed to settle over everything–the flowers, their clothes, their skin. It lingered in the air for a moment longer before finally disappearing.

She finally straightened up, running her fingers through her hair, and taking deep, but cautious breaths. “What the fuck was that..” She murmured trying to wrap her head around what the hell just transpired.

He doubled over, his hands on his knees, panting slightly, as he attempted to catch his breath, “I have no idea, but that wasn’t normal.”

His heart beat quickly, irregularly the world swaying a bit as he stayed there. When he finally caught his breath and stood up, his skin was covered with a dull sense of pins and needles, a slight bit of sweat dripping down his forehead despite the cold air, glistening in the dull light cast over by the moon.

She didn’t realize that she had been staring, until she looked away, her own body feeling uneasy. Her legs are almost weak, and her heart erratic.

“I feel weird..” She spoke, her voice slightly hoarse, a lump almost lodged in her throat. Bellamy only nodded, his gaze burning into her as she spoke.

Her voice sounded melodic to him, which was a contrast from the usual annoyance he got from it. But right in this moment, it was alluring and it was pulling him in.

His nerves in his body felt like they were igniting, a match catching them on fire, his breaths staggered, his body warm. Her eyes made their way back to his figure, focusing on the way his chest heaved, the way his skin glowed under the light. As much as she wanted to look away, something was stopping her.

“Bell..” She murmured, her lips parted slightly, wiping some of the sweat away from her forehead.

He almost growled at the sound of his name leaving her lips, it sounded so pretty to him, it made his heart race even more if that was possible. The world around him felt so distant, the glow of the flowers blurring into a soft, otherworldly light. The only thing either of them could focus on was the pull–an invisible force drawing them together, insistent, and undeniable.

He didn’t answer, his dark eyes locked onto hers as his chest moved with each ragged breath he took. The usual frustration and anger he held was replaced with something deeper, something almost primal. His body felt like it was no longer his own, every instinct screaming at him to get closer to her.

He took a step forward, and Y/n didn’t move away. Her body mirrored his, leaning closer even as her mind struggled to catch up. As he stood in front of her, and her eyes stared up into his, he snapped.

The tension between them too strong, his hands gripped her arms, his touch firm and desperate as he pulled her to him, chest to chest, his touch on her arms setting her mind into overdrive, her skin on fire with just the slightest touch. Before she could react any further, his lips crashed onto hers, capturing her into a rough and demanding kiss.

She gasped against his lips, her hands instinctively gripping his shirt as her body betrayed her. The heat in both of their veins intensified with every second, and she found herself desperately pressing into him, her own desperation matching his.

The kiss was fierce and unrelenting, a collision of all the bottled up emotions between them. All the anger, all the frustration being taken out with it. The world faded away, leaving only the two of them.

She finally pulled away, almost regretting it, her lips swollen and aching for his as soon as they left.

“Bellamy..” She whispered, her voice shaking slightly.

His forehead was pressed against hers, his breaths heavy and uneven. “I don’t know what's happening,” he admitted, his voice raw, “But I can’t–”

She silenced him by pulling him back down, her lips finding his again with just as much urgency. It was like the pollen from the flowers was messing with them, igniting all the nerves in their bodies and igniting something animalistic. As their lips battled against one another, his hands roamed up her back, until one settled onto the back of her neck pushing her more into him, deepening the kiss, while her hands roamed up his chest, one landing in his hair tugging at it.

He was the one that pulled away this time panting harshly, something dark behind his brown eyes. His eyes bore into hers, his hair disheveled, he was staring at her like she was his prey.

“Y/n..” He groaned out, his voice breaking almost.

His hand moved slowly from the back of her neck to her neck to her face, his eyes never leaving hers.

“Gotta stop.. I keep going, I won't be able to.” He said breathlessly, though he said that, his mind was silently pleading her to tell him to keep going.

Her own body felt the pull between them, it was a relentless force, everything in her yearned for more, screamed at her to pull him back in. She looked up at him with half lidded eyes, “Please don’t..” It came out meekly, like some sort of plea, differently from her usual firecracker persona.

Those words, the way she said them drove him up the wall. The way her lips were swollen, face flushed, how her voice trembled, her thighs pressed together needily. She made it clear that she didn’t want him to stop, so he wasn’t going too.

Bellamy moved his hand from her face to her neck, squeezing roughly, pulling a whine from her lips. He almost groaned at that, the way it sounded leaving her lips was like heaven. He pulled her back in, kissing her just as fiercely as before, this time with no intent of holding back and stopping. The kiss was needy, hungry, fed by the relentless desire that they both had settled into them.

When he finally pulled away, it was to pull her down onto the soft soil, the earth cool against her overheated skin. Before she could complain, his lips were all over her neck, sloppily kissing, and nipping all over. She panted softly, back arching off the ground, her hips brushing against his, bringing a groan past his lips and sending a vibration through her skin. He used one of his hands to push her hips down into the ground, firmly holding her in place. Everything in him screamed to just take her right then and there, but not yet, he wanted to have his fun with her first.

“Patience, love..” His voice was rough and low as he spoke into her ear, her thighs squeezing together in an attempt to feel something, anything. His touch was driving her up the wall, she was filled with need for him, and him alone.

His lips went back to her neck, brushing against all her sensitive spots, but when they hit a particular spot that caused her to squirm under him, he bit down. It sent a jolt of stinging pleasure through her body, causing her to gasp.

“Bell..” She whispered out, need lacing her voice.

He hummed against her skin as he worked his way down to her collar bone, leaving sloppy kisses and purple bruises as he continued down his path, his hands now messing with the hem of her shirt. It wasn’t long before he was sliding it off her body, tossing it somewhere next to them on the ground. He stared at her bare chest under the light of the moon in awe, taking her in.

“So fuckin’ pretty..” His voice barely above a whisper, his eyes scanning over her, her chest rising and falling harshly.

He leaned back down, kissing down her chest, his hands moving to cup her breasts, kneading them between his fingers softly, in almost a teasing manner.

“Bell, please..” She whined out, her hands running through his hair.

This brought a smirk to his lips, hearing her all desperate for him. His lips moved over, his tongue trailing against her nipple, as his fingers played with the other. He took it in his mouth, swirling his tongue around it, teeth grazing against the sensitive bud as she whimpered beneath him. He then pulled away rather abruptly, leaving her breathless and almost trembling beneath him. The sudden loss of his touch sent a wave of frustration through her, a soft needy whine escaping her lips, her body arching towards him instinctively.

Her cheeks burned, but the heat pooling in her stomach only grew as he took his time with her. His hands slowly moved down her sides, his calloused fingers grazing over her sensitive skin, sending shivers racing through her body. He looked at her, his eyes darkened with lust, as he hooked his fingers into the waistband of her pants, tugging them down, before throwing them off to the side. He once again stared in awe, looking at her fully exposed beneath him, his jeans tightening around him. Her hands lifted up, sliding under his shirt wanting to touch him too. He took the hint, sliding his shirt off, letting it join the growing pile of clothes. She bit her lip as her fingers traced over her his skin, his toned body glistening with sweat.

“Like what you see?” He grinned softly as she stared up at him like he was some sort of god.

She hummed, lost in a daze as her eyes trailed over him, too lost in taking him in to realize that he was now kneeling in between her thighs. Her breath hitched slightly as he leaned his face in, his lips brushing against the inner part of her thighs, his broad shoulders keeping her legs apart. His gaze swept over her, and the intensity in his eyes made her squirm beneath him. He kissed her thighs softly at first, peppering them all over, but as he went the kisses got sloppy, needy almost.

“Bellamy–” She started, her voice trembling, but whatever she was about to say was lost in a loud gasp as his teeth sunk into the soft flesh.

The bite wasn’t gentle, it was rough, leaving a sharp sting in its wake. Her hips jerked a sharp whimper escaping her lips as her hands moved to his hair tugging at his messy curls.

He chuckled darkly against her skin, his breath hot as he trailed kisses and bites along the inner part of her thighs, alternating between soft and harsh. Each scrape of his teeth sent a jolt of heat straight to her core, leaving her writhing and breathless. She couldn’t stop herself from squirming, her body reacting to every touch, everybite. Her legs trembled, but his hands kept her firmly in place, his grip strong and unyielding as he pushed her hips into the ground beneath them.

��Stay still.” He growled out, his voice thick with warning, and the sound sent another shiver racing through her.

Her head fell back against the ground, her breaths coming in shallow gasps as she tried to obey, but it was an impossible feat. The ache inside her was unbearable, her body desperate for him, wanting nothing but his touch.

“Please..” She whispered, the word slipping out before she could stop it.

He paused, his lips hovering just barely above her skin, his hot breath fanning over her. His eyes trailed up, and his gaze met hers through his messy curls. The smirk that spread across his lips was both infuriating and intoxicating to her.

“So desperate,” He teased, his tone laced with satisfaction, he did this to her, he was making her fall apart with his touch.

She bit her lip again, her cheeks flushing even deeper, sweat coating her forehead. She didn’t have the energy to argue, or to put up a fight, not with the way his touch was driving her up the wall with pleasure.

His lips hovered over her thighs, close enough to where she could feel the heat of his breath, but far enough to drive her crazy. Her body was trembling, every nerve ending screaming for more, her body on fire, craving him more and more with every touch, but he just smirked at her dragging out the moment.

“Bellamy, please,” She whimpered, her voice practically breaking with desperation. Her hips jerked up toward him, but his strong hands held her firmly in place.

“Not good enough,” He murmured, his voice dark and teasing, “Want me to make you feel good hm, Princess? Beg for me then.”

Her eyes were locked onto his, a mixture of frustration and yearning behind them, she clenched her fists, her nails digging into the soil beneath her, her body in overdrive, desperate for any kind of friction. He leaned into her, his lips brushing over the spot where she needed him most, but not quite giving her what she needed. That’s what broke her, her eyes pleading with him.

“Please, Bell,” She begged, her voice breaking with every word she spoke. “I need you, I–” She let out a shuddering breath, her head falling back onto the ground. “Please, just do something, I need you.” Her voice was filled with desperation, as her body ached for more.

His smirk widened, satisfaction glinting in his dark eyes. “That’s more like it,” He muttered,and without another word he gave in.

He lowered his head between her thighs, burying his face in between them, his mouth working against her with skill and intensity that had her crying out. The first touch of his tongue dragging up against her clit sent a jolt of electricity through her body, her back arching off the ground, as her hands tugged at his messy hair. He had barely started, but her body was on fire, her mind clouded over as he finally was giving her what she craved.

“Bell!” She gasped, her voice breaking into a cry as he pressed into her more, his tongue and lips moving in a perfectly deveasting rhythm.

Her nails dug into his scalp, but it only seemed to spur him on further. His grip on her thighs tightened, sure enough that there would be fresh bruises there the next day to accompany the purple marks his lips left everywhere earlier. As he gripped her his tongue swirled and flicked around in ways that made her see stars. The sounds she made were desperate, unrestrained, they only fueled him to push her closer to the edge.

“Taste so fuckin’ good.” He mumbled, as his mouth worked at her, sending the vibrations straight to her core.

Her world narrowed to the feeling of his mouth on her, the heat, the pressure, the overwhelming sensation that was pulling her apart piece by piece. Her cries grew louder, her breaths even more erratic than before as her body tightened and trembled against his every touch.

“Bellamy, I–I can’t–” She stammered, but he was relentless, it only drove him to go faster.

His tongue kept working against her, her cries like a melody to his ears. It wasn't until he slipped two fingers in, that she practically yelled out his name. His fingers working with his mouth in harmony, has her eyes rolling back, a wave of pleasure rolling over her. Her body shook, her fingers tugging at his hair roughly as she fell apart beneath him. The way she gasped his name, raw and unfiltered, sent a jolly of satisfaction through him. He didn’t stop, he didn’t let up, his mouth working relentlessly as he let her ride out her high.

Her vision was hazy as the pleasure overwhelmed her, she couldn’t think, couldn't breathe properly, she could only feel.

Finally, as her body calmed down, and her trembling slowed a bit, he slowed his movements. Pulling out his fingers slowly, pressing one last gentle kiss to her thigh. His face covered in her slick, he licked his fingers, cleaning them off, savoring every last bit of her taste.

He had wasted enough time, he was done holding back now. Satisfied with the way he had her falling apart from just his tongue and his fingers, he stood up for a second, making quick work of pulling his jeans off, throwing them to the side. She couldn’t help the way her eyes roamed over him, even as her body trembled from the aftermath of his mouth. His body glistening with sweat, his large cock out for her to see.

He was back on her in an instant, caging her beneath him, as his weight pressed her into the soft earth. His lips found her neck again, nipping and sucking as his hands roamed her body possessively, making sure to leave no inch untouched. The heat radiating between them was unbearable, the pull was impossible to resist.

“You want this?” He growled against her ear, his voice rough and laced with need. His teeth grazed her earlobe, sending another shivering rushing through her, “Hmm, say it.. Tell me how bad you want me to fuck you.”

She could barely form any words, her breath hitching as his body arched into his, “I do yes..” She managed to stammer out, her voice barely audible.

He clicked his tongue to the roof of his mouth, “I don’t think I’m very convinced.”

She groaned out, her hips desperately trying to rub against his, “Please, god, Bell.. I want you to fuck me, please I need you.”

The desperation and need in voice was enough for him, he didn’t bother demanding her try to convince him anymore, truth be told he couldn’t wait any longer. The flowers had them both too far gone, their minds clouded, their bodies screaming for more. He positioned himself, his hands gripping her hips tightly, and without warning, his hips snapped into hers with a force that knocked the air from her lungs.

A sharp cry escaped her lips, her nails digging into his shoulder as his hips slammed against hers in a rough, relentless rhythm. He set a punishing pace, every movement filled with raw, and unrestrained need.

“Fuck, princess.. Taking me so well, this pussy was made for me.” He groaned out, his pace never faltering as he rocked his hips into hers.

He cursed under his breath as he kept up his pace, his breath hot against her ear as his hands tightened on her hips pulling her closer with each harsh thrust. The sound of her moans and cries along with the sound of their bodies colliding echoed around them, mixing with the faint rustle of the flowers swaying in the breeze. The pollen still hung thick in the air, amplifying every sensation, every touch, they were both mad with lust.

She felt like she was on fire, her body hypersensitive to every thrust of his hips, every sound that drew from his lips, every glance.

His head fell into the crook of her neck, his lips brushing against her skin as he muttered things under his breath, his voice was raw and broken. His rhythm didn't falter, each thrust hitting deeper, harder than the last, as if he couldn’t get enough for her. His body claiming every inch of hers, trapping her beneath him as to say that she was his and his alone.

Her cries only grew louder, her hands grasping and scratching at him as she tried to ground herself. But she couldn’t, it felt too good, he had her screaming out his name in pleasure.

“What is it, pretty girl? Can’t handle me?” He chuckled darkly against her neck,but he didn’t slow his pace, he kept pounding into her like his life depended on it.

The flowers had stripped them of every barrier, every ounce of control, leaving nothing but a primal need. They were lost in eachother, consumed by the heat, the desperation, the overwhelming desire that neither of them could fight.

His soft growls filled her ears, rough and low, as she trembled beneath him, her moans spilling from her lips with no hesitation. Her nails raked along his sweat-slicked back as he drove into her roughly.

“So fuckin’ pretty like this,” He spoke into her ear softly, his voice thick with desire. His eyes flickered down to meet hers, and the way she looked at him– flushed, dazed, completely drunk off his cock alone only fueled the fire raging inside of him more.

“Such a mess for me.” His words dripping with satisfaction as one of his hands slipped up to her neck giving it a squeeze pulling a soft gasp from her lips.

His other hand snaked down, to rub circles on her clit as he kept his pace drilling into her, the added pleasure causing tears to stream down her cheeks, her hands gripping his shoulder even harder in an attempt to anchor herself.

“Bellamy!” She moaned out his name, her voice cracking as her body writhed under him, the mixture of his cock and fingers driving her insane.

He groaned against her neck, the sound vibrating through her, and his hips snapped against her even harder, his rhythm growing rougher, needier. “You like this huh?” He growled, his breath hot against her neck, “You like when I use you like this? Being a cock drunk slut for me?”

Her head fell back, her lips parted as she let out a strangled cry, the tension inside her building to a breaking point. Her body was on fire, every nerve alight, every sensation heightened. His grip on her neck tightened, his fingers still rubbing circles against her clit. His lips worked against her neck, biting and kissing sloppily, claiming every inch of her.

“You drive me crazy,” He muttered, his voice almost a snarl as he buried himself deeper, his movements becoming more erratic, more sloppy with each thrust, “You always have.”

She could barely process his words, her find too clouded by the overwhelming sensations coursing through her. Her body tightened around him, and she felt herself teetering on the edge, her cries growing louder, more desperate.

“Bell, fuck.. I’m–” She stammered, her hands clutching onto him as the wave built higher, threatening to crash over her at any moment.

“Hm, you wanna cum for me?” He murmured, his lips brushing against her ear, his voice softer now but still filled with just as much urgency, “Go on then, cum on my cock.”

That’s all it took for her to go over the edge, her body convulsing under him as her release ripped through her, leaving her gasping and trembling. He kept going, his fingers still drawing lazy circles, his thrusts getting more and more sloppy as she rode out her high. A few more thrusts and he was burying himself deep inside of her, spilling his seed, and painting her walls, claiming her insides as his. His growls turned into a deep groan as he buried his face in her neck, his body shaking just a bit before collapsing next to her on the ground.

They laid there for a moment, minds still clouded over, chests heaving as they tried to catch their breaths. Their bodies began to cool down, the heat that had consumed them moments ago ebbed away, leaving behind a strange clarity. Slowly, the effects of the pollen wore off, and with it came the crashing weight of reality.

Her eyes darted around, her chest still heaving as she tried to process what had just happened. Her skin felt cooler now, but it didn’t erase the marks of what just happened– the warmth of his hands, the scrape of his teeth, the way he had her coming undone on his cock.

“What the fuck just happend?” She yelped, her voice cracking as she sat up abruptly, clutching all her discarded clothes. She was quick to scramble to put them on, her hands shaking slightly as she tugged her shirt over her head. Her hair was a wild mess, her body covered in purple bruises, her lips swollen, and her face burned with disbelief and embarrassment of what just happened.

Bellamy, still lying beside her, blinked as if coming out of a fog. He propped himself up on his elbows, a mix of shock and confusion fainted his freckled face. His fair was a tangled mess, his chest and shoulders mocked with red scratches left in the wake of her nails. His lips bore the same swollen look, evident of their fevered kisses.

“I–” He started, his voice hoarse. He paused his brow furrowing as he glanced at Y/n who was furiously tying her boots up.

He was quick to follow, grabbing all his clothes and throwing them on, still just as confused.After they were just dressed, they came face to face.

“I don’t know what the fuck just happened, but we’re going to pretend it didn’t.” She spat out, glaring daggers into him. The lust was long gone, replaced by the familiar bitterness she felt for him.

Though he felt the same way, and hated her, he couldn’t shake the fact that he had her stubborn ass falling apart for him.

“I doubt you’ll forget the way I made you feel.” He smirked, slinging his gun over his shoulder.

She flipped him off, “I hate you, Blake.”

He rolled his eyes, “Feelings mutual firecracker.”

[fuckyeahimafangirl]

I come here late to give my opinion on what Nicole Maines said in her book about the Supercorp fandom (go to Twitter for more info, but she basically gave her point of view of things as a queer actor on the show having expected things from the queer fans, confirmed we were being queerbaited while also blaming us for some actors getting fired). I appreciate her side of things and feel for her. But reading that I felt that A LOT was overlooked, especially the context of it all. So sit back if you care enough to read this and come with me as I go on a rant and we go down memory lane to give some context into what it was like to watch Supergirl live as a Supercorp fan.

The first season of Supergirl had its fair share of ships. People liked Kara/Cat, Kara/James, Kara/Win maybe anyone? I don't remember that one but I'm sure there were people out there who liked them. Some people even liked Alex/Kara (a conversation for another time). Kara/Cat shippers could also like Kara/James, because both ships had some strong foundations in the narrative, they were undeniably good ships, regardless of how you feel about age-difference relationships or straight relationships lol. There wasn't mostly an issue, except with the ones that liked Kara/Alex.

In between the first and second season of Supergirl it was announced that a main character would be gay. They didn't say who, though. Speculation began, of course. They did say that Maggie Sawyer was coming to the show but it was not confirmed that she was going to be a lesbian and even less whose love interest. 

Then the second season premiered. And in the very first episode Kara Danvers meets Lena Luthor. Their scenes together were filled with sexual tension from the very beginning, look at their meeting scene without context and a bit of an open mind and most people will see their chemistry and think that maybe Kara was meeting her soulmate. And the first scene of Supergirl meeting Lena Luthor? It was already drawing a parallel between them and Lois/Clark, one of most iconic, recognizable and undeniable canon ships of all time. Drawing parallels between these two ships was the creators of the show's favorite pastime and it started from day one, before the ship had any fans because we hadn't met Lena just yet.

But in that episode we did meet her. And we fell in love fast. Because their interactions and the interest concept of Lena's character were good. Could it really be that Kara was the main gay character? Could it really be that they were going to give us an epic love story with Supergirl and a family member of her family's historically known enemy? Could they dare to make the famous superhero anything other than straight?

It wasn't just a delusion on our part at that time. It was a real possibility based on real facts. Kara had suddenly dropped the guy she spent the entire previous season chasing after. She got him and dumped him for no good reason (the writers didn't bother to give it a good excuse) and in the same episode she meets this woman, at the start of the season we were going to discover a main gay character.

These are all facts.

A few episodes later Maggie Sawyer makes her debut and it's clear that she's Alex's love interest from the first moment. Cool. It's not Kara but at least it's Alex (because, at the time, we know, WE KNOW, that they don't have two lesbian/queer women characters in the same show unless they're dating each other. How could we think that gay people will surround themselves with other gay people? silly us), that was the reaction: We still LOVED that it was Alex, because it still made sense. And it was difficult to find Sanvers fanfic without it having Supercorp in it because we were all the same people, of course most of us liked both ships. 

Now, I obviously don't know her, but I seriously don't think that Chyler can say she felt overlooked by the fans that season. Alex's coming out scenes were some of the best we had seen in our entire lives up until that point, and we made that known. Not all of us might have been on board with Sanvers (some storyline choices could've been questionable) but with Alex? No one loved her more than the queer Supergirl fans. And in the meantime Supercorp kept getting screen time, their friendship progressing in a Clois kind of way that was beautiful to witness. While Maggie and Alex's relationship advanced pretty quickly from an "I'm not gay" to a rejection to a proper first kiss, Supercorp was building a bit more organically as Supergirl kept saving Lena's life, as Lena opened up only to Kara, trusting her all the while Kara was keeping this huge secret from her. We ate that shit up, of course we did.

After season two was over we got the news that Floriana Lima (Maggie) was going to leave the show. I remember Chyler saying that she wanted to do right by us and whoever came next was gonna stay. And I'm not faulting Chyler for what came next, at all. Chyler was and always will be one of the best things on Supergirl and she has always treated the fandom with the utmost respect and love. And I hope she only received the same treatment back (and I hate to know she got those letters from people threatening to kill themselves, but let's have a little compassion for those people and their mental health, I hope they're doing well).

So Maggie left. And while some fans were not coping well with that, most fans understood it was the actress' decision. That was fine. What wasn't fine was the decision the writers made by making the breakup about not wanting babies when they were about to get married. How on Earth (any Earth) a couple don't talk about that particular issue BEFORE deciding to get married? It was an easy way out. But okay, it's just a TV show, I don't write it, we can move on from that... In the same season, at the same time this whole discussion and breakup occurs, the very same person who wanted to have kids has a meet-cute with a SINGLE MOTHER, Sam. The story was full of promise, she had a kid already with whom Alex got along amazingly, there was great chemistry between all three of them, Sam also had a dark secret being basically her sister's most powerful enemy, their relationship was mostly well built throughout the entire season. But guess what? She wasn't her new love interest, and left at the end of it. 

A lot of Supercorp fans LOVED AgentReign (Sam/Alex), by the way. A lot of Supercorp fans also loved ReignCorp (Sam/Lena) and a few even loved AgentCorp (Lena/Alex) and SuperReign (lol what was the name of this ship? I don't remember but Kara/Sam). And guess what? There wasn't a war between us. We were mostly the same people multishipping because it's fun and because these were interesting characters with interesting relationships created by the writers. We were inventing and wishing for stuff, but the foundations were laid for us, some (most) things were there and most of us were just screaming that we liked what we were being given and wanted more of that.

And that's why come season 4, some people were having a hard time accepting Dansen. Because we were mourning the loss of Sam and her relationship with Alex, the what ifs are always the worst, no matter the situation.  But most Supercorp fans embraced Kelly (and Azie, we love Azie and what we got to see of her relationship with Chyler, and Katie and Nicole), the vast majority of us ended up loving Dansen despite the writers not always doing a great job at writing their arcs. And it's awful that some fans treated her and other members of the cast horribly, but that was by far a small portion of the Supergirl fandom in general, and especially the Supercorp fandom. And, by the way, as a side note because racism was part of the problem for a minority of the fandom, A LOT of us in the Supercorp side of it are not white people from the US, A LOT of us are from other countries/races/cultures (that can be racist too of course, but the point is we don't know the races and motives of everyone behind a keyboard).

And that season most of us also embraced Nia because she was the first trans superhero, because of her queerness, because she was an awesome fun character, because she was relatable and geeky like most of us. We embraced her, her relationship with Kara and her relationship with Brainy. And we showed that by trending Nia related things, by adding Nia to our fanfics and fanarts. Nia was a Supercorp ally for most of us and we didn't exclude her from the art because we loved her as much as we love some of the other characters in the show.

Now, if Kara would have had, after the first season, one male love interest that was decent enough, we would have still love and wanted Supercorp, that's true (especially when it had been years of build-up) but most of us probably would have liked the pairing anyway, because we loved Kara Danvers and wanted her to be happy and to have the love she wanted at the beginning of the show (which she didn't get, by the way).

But the writers decided to give her, instead, another man who didn't treat her well. And I couldn't honestly tell you half of William's storyline because I couldn't care less. The creators of the show didn't make me care. Hell, I didn't even see Kara cared enough about that character. The writers should know their audience and should know that the audience needs moments to make them care about the characters, the writers have the power to make that happen. Many times I've seen a fandom hate a character one episode and love them by the next one, because sometimes all it takes is one good scene, or one good arc. William never had that. And now we have confirmation of what we knew all along, that maybe they were writing half-assed storylines for their love interests because they were too busy trying to figure out new ways to queerbait us. If they would have put a quarter of that effort into creating good love interests for Kara and/or Lena (but especially Kara), most of this conversation wouldn't still be happening 3 years later.

We embraced Andrea Rojas, we embraced her so much that we shipped her with Lena. Most of us weren't the blind Supercorp-or-nothing crazy fans a lot of people to this day make us out to be. When things were good, we mostly liked them. But please, please, let's be honest here, a lot of the time Supergirl was not a great-written show. And I get that those are Nicole's friends but a little objectivity, especially after all these years, would have come a long way.

These past few days I've read a couple of people saying Supercorp was the only good thing about the show. Those kinds of people were and still are a very very minority. A lot of us started the show before Supercorp existed and LOVED (still love) the Danvers sisters with all of our hearts. And the writers, at times, didn't know how to keep up with that relationship, the one that at first was the very center of the show, all that well either.

Most Supercorp fans didn't actually like that the 100th episode revolved all around Supercorp. 1) Because it was queerbaiting at its finest. 2) because it should've been about the Danvers sisters. Or at least about all Supergirl's most important relationships in equal measure. Yes, Lena was a big part of her, but ALEX EVEN MORE SO. The fandom didn't make that happen, we didn't fire any actor either. These were decisions made by the people who had the power to make anything in the show happen. If we would have had our way we all know what we would have done, and no, it definitely was not p**n (the most used AO3 tags for our ship speak for themselves).

I didn't see Nicole's last paragraph on the subject shared much. A lot of people didn't see that she acknowledged a small portion of the good the Supercorp fandom did.

But by the time you get to it, you already have a bad taste in your mouth. Because it still reads as if she's talking about us all without a care that "the toxic fans" were just a loud minority. Not to say that the good guys weren't louder, because Supercorp is still what it is to this day because we're still loud. So why is there very little mention of that? The way we supported Nia's episode? The way we supported Kelly's?

And because we were having fun and we were loud about our love for two fictional characters, WE WERE ALSO RECEIVING THREATS from some toxic fans, hell, the day before yesterday some fans were receiving death threats like it's 2017. Everything she says the cast and crew were dealing with, the Supercorp fans were dealing with it as well, and more so because the toxic people felt validated by the choices the creators made. Validated by some writers on Twitter making it worse. Validated by some of the actors who were also mocking us. We were all called delusional, and that was the most chill thing you could be called.

I understand her point of view, and I imagine that was not a great first experience in that kind of set, and I would love to have the opportunity to talk to actors about this topic that fascinates me (relationship between fandoms and cast/crew). But context is important, to see other people's point of views is important when having these conversations. She felt her own community wasn't supporting her when most of us were and that didn't come across at all. Not even with her final words. 

The fact is, they were hurt by a small part of their own fandom (which, by the way, they have no idea how old those toxic fans were. Not to say that adults are not toxic. But we, as the non-toxic adults, should also think of the demographic and react accordingly). And most of us, the queer Supercorp shippers, were also hurt by the toxic part of the fandom and by some of the people she's trying to defend. Let's be clear, there's not "mayyyybe," they were 100% wrong in queerbaiting the hell out of us from day one and mocking us for believing the bait. Make no mistake, most of this is a consequence of THAT. 

[whoopsyeahokay]

October Sun

summary: after you'd sent Xavier a text that told him not to meet you, you'd ventured to the school at dawn, alone, bouquet in hand as promised.

pairing: Wally Clark x fem!reader

warnings: eventual smutty smut smut. and mad spoilers. and obvious Canon divergence. very involved, very dense plot.

bon reading, frens

___________________________💀

OCTOBER SUN pt.24

It was barely 6AM. You'd hardly slept after Dave had returned you to the house. He'd watched you climb the stairs to the second floor, ever the persistent warden, before you'd heard him slink down to the basement he and Aurora had converted into their private apartment. Besides the numerous big reveals that had unfolded last night—Ajay's odd friendship with your sister, Simon's warped inverse of your ability, Maddie's soul penetrating the field of your cosmic artery, the soul-tie you and Wally somehow shared—besides all of that, something, a feeling of profound unrest, had kept you up. Had you staring at the green stars on Aiden's ceiling until your alarm began to chime.

Sharing a soul-tie with Wally should've been the thing that terrified you most amongst all that'd transpired. It was unheard of, curious, downright impossible in nature. Soul-ties were as fragile as they were strong and required both souls to be alive, together in the same lifetime in the world of the living, to exist. That Wally was extremely not alive should've made you question the validity of the connection you and he had. Especially given there was evidence of magical tampering on school grounds, a spiteful, bitter essence sickened into the ether that surrounded the campus.

And yet, that nor the symbol etched into the tree, that bastardized amalgamation of runic lines, hadn't been what you'd kept ruminating about from the moment you'd laid down until dawn. No, it'd been Dave. Something about how he'd come out of the trees, so steady and sure-footed; how his eyes had held your gaze as he'd marched toward you.

You pressed your fingers into your eyes and groaned. There was no use thinking about it further. Not now. You had a bouquet to put together and two friends to save. Dave's feline equilibrium had to wait. With a grunt you rolled out of Aiden's little-kid bed and shuffled into your room, not daring to check your appearance in the mirror. You could feel the bags under your eyes. Heavy and dark like someone had injected squid ink beneath the delicate skin.

Showering was a groggy, clumsy affair, appendages weak and a step behind your brain's transmissions. You did what you could to make yourself presentable, hoped to conceal the fatigue behind a cute outfit: A thin, loose, autumn-orange destination sweater tucked partially into a slim, black denim skirt with opaque black tights underneath. You applied makeup where you needed it to hide the sleep deprivation and called it at that, unable to muster the strength for much else. It was going to be a long, long, l o n g day.

But worth it, you reminded yourself firmly in a voice not unlike Wally's, because you were going to find a way to help Simon and once Simon was helped, you'd both find a way to get Maddie back on the right side of the veil.

A sweep of berry-tinted lipgloss and you dragged yourself outside into your Nanna's garden, brandishing a pair of pruning shears from the mud room you'd passed through on your way out. You clipped a variety of flowers and piled them on the bouquet paper you'd liberated from the stash Nanna (and now Aurora) kept at the house. Once accomplished, it was time to head out and you sighed in regret that you'd texted Xavier to sleep in, telling him you wanted to be alone that morning to center yourself before having to face your classmates after yesterday's ordeal.

It wasn't entirely false. It couldn't have been. You didn't lie to Xavier as a personal commandment. But it wasn't entirely the truth either and you felt queasy from it. Still, you sucked in a deep breath and forced yourself to move forward. Nanna was in the kitchen when you walked in with the bouquet, sitting at the table as she waited for the kettle to boil. You could smell the floral tea blend Nanna, Aurora, and Dave drank. Even dry the scent was potent, overwhelming the herb and warm spice aroma the kitchen usually held. You nearly gagged as you passed the open teapot, the concoction inside like a punch to the nose when you got too close.

"Good morning, Maypie." Nanna smiled warmly, patting the table in front of the seat beside her. The nickname irritated you, too close to the one you'd scolded Xavier for using yesterday, but it was Nanna and you couldn't find it in yourself to say something.

Instead, "Morning, Nanna," you greeted with a yawn, setting the bouquet on the counter as you traipsed toward the sink to fill a glass of water. "Can't sit. Gotta get to school."

Nanna hummed in acknowledgment and you could tell she was checking the time on the stove before she turned to face you in her chair. "Awfully early, isn't it?"

"So early," You agreed with a sob of disdain as you brought the glass to your lips for a sip of cold water. Your skin began to feel warm and wherever you rested your gaze seemed irrationally farther than where it should be. Shaking your head to dispel what you assumed was a lack of sleep, you took a deep drink from your glass.

Nanna tilted her head and raised a snowy brow at something near your elbow, "And who are those for?"

For a brief moment, you didn't grasp the question, casting about to understand. When your eyes landed on the bouquet beside the sink, you blinked slowly at it, lids like lead. The floral aroma itched your nostrils, traveled into your skull, a thick fog dampening your mental processing.

Sedate, you panned your head and stared properly at the bouquet, told Nanna, "It's for Maddie," confused as to why you'd believed you shouldn't. That desperate, nagging feeling you'd had earlier when thinking of last night—last night?—growled in warning in the back of your mind, but it was so far away you easily ignored it.

"Oh, how lovely," Nanna replied, standing to put her hands on your shoulders and rub your arms kindly, "I'm sure she'll appreciate the gesture when she comes home."

"Who will appreciate what gesture?" Ginny croaked from the doorway, slugging into the kitchen in a silk robe and thick, knitted socks up to her knees. You knew she wore them to keep in place the gauze she slathered in anti-aging creams and wore overnight. Grumpy and rumpled, she questioned, "Who're the flowers for?"

You huffed a laugh as you watched her pull out a chair and drop into the seat, seeming as ill-suited to the morning as you.

"They're for Maddie," Nanna explained and, immediately, Ginny straightened, her glazed eyes turning sharp as they landed on you.

"She's back?" She asked.

You shook your head, "No," and you were tired, so tired, and couldn't quite seem to formulate the words to explain why you were taking flowers to school for Maddie who hadn't actually returned from wherever she'd run off to in order to accept them.

"Are they building a shrine already?" Ginny asked.

A feeling of awareness clawed through the mist that had filled your head. You felt an insidious tickle in the back of your nose, gasped a breath, and then released a cathartic blast of a sneeze, expelling that horrible, heady floral scent.

You blinked several times as you recovered your wits, glancing at the bouquet and then between Nanna and Ginny, at last able to think clearly, "Something like that. We're just trying to stay positive. Principal Hartman said he'd pass along whatever we bring in to Maddie's mom." And there you were, feeling like yourself again, able to map out a plausible lie to keep Wally (and, by extension, Maddie-as-a-ghost) safe from whatever Ginny or your mother could do if they discovered you were conspiring with the school's dead.

Ginny returned to a slouch, propping her head on her fist, "That's nice of you." She looked halfway back to sleep when you gave her a kiss goodbye, patting your thigh limply and muttering a slurred farewell. As you shrugged into your leather jacket, you heard Ginny scoff at Nanna, barking, "Don't you bring that nasty stuff near me, I don't know how you drink it," and couldn't help but snort because, truly, not even a man dying of thirst would accept a cup of that tea.

"I'm taking mom's car." You announced, peeking back into the kitchen. Your mother was on what constituted for her as a work trip; taking money to perform a ceremony that had no bearing on the ghosts—if they hadn't already crossed over as many of them had—at all. The concept was as stupid as it was a scam and you were revolted that someone in your family, who you'd once respected, was capable of performing such a farce.

Fucking. Ghost weddings.

You pressed your lips in a line in an effort to control the disgusted expression you knew you'd make upon thinking about it. Without looking at you, Nanna and Ginny gave their assent and carried on bickering after wishing you a pleasant day.

‗‗‗‗•‗‗‗‗

"So," Maddie said in a neutral tone which set Wally's teeth on edge, "How long have you guys really known each other?"

It was just him and her outside, lingering by the door waiting for you and Xavier to arrive. Wally leaned while Maddie sat on an empty bike rack adjacent to the entrance, looking out over the parking lot like watchmen on duty. The others were inside; Ajay had vowed to coax Mina down from the rafters while Charlie and Rhonda had simply wanted to observe how that interaction went after learning Ajay and Mina were entangled in their own version of a relationship. Strange and unconventional and, apparently, wholesome though Wally had no idea what that meant coming from Ajay.

"I was wondering when you were gonna ask me." Wally said, ducking his head sheepishly and rubbing the back of his neck. He lifted his gaze to Maddie, "Not long. Since Field Day."

Maddie's brows raised, but she remained composed. After a few moments of silence, Maddie spoke again, a smile in her voice, "She talked about you a lot."

Wally swallowed, his heart fluttering at the information, unable to repress the feeling of giddiness that fizzled through him. Regardless, he tried to play it cool, "Yeah?"

"Yeah. She always said her 'ghost was so hot' and that she was 'saving herself for her ghost'." She paused, chewed her lip, and stared down at her lap as she thought about what to say next. "Looking back, I guess she thought she could hide in plain sight." And then, with a snort, "And it worked. None of us believed her for a second. It never even crossed my mind that it could be true until I got here."

Wally nudged her side in a friendly motion. "Was she right?" He snickered, teasing, "Am I hot?"

Maddie shoved his head down playfully with a laugh, "You're an idiot." Another comfortable beat. She hummed quietly before she revealed in a gentle tone, "You two are cute together. If it means anything."

"It does," Wally said and it was true. It was more reassuring than it should've been to have someone on the outside see what he saw. Cemented it somehow.

Another few minutes passed before a car pulled into the parking lot. Maddie jumped down from her perch, face screwed up in confusion, "Wasn't she bringing Xavier?"

Wally could see the tension she'd been holding in her shoulders slowly diminish as you parked and climbed out. Alone. He and Maddie made their way over to greet you, twin smiles of relief on their faces. Wally hadn't been keen to see that dickbag anytime soon. It was better for everyone that you'd decided to leave him behind.

"Hey guys," You said, eyes automatically finding Wally's, his heart beating that much harder in his chest. You seemed to read the unspoken question and informed, "I thought we'd get more accomplished if Xavier wasn't here."

Maddie nodded, "Smart," visibly grateful for your forethought.

Wally treaded around the front of the car you'd driven and scooped you up into a solid hold, one arm under your thighs while the other clamped at a diagonal on your back, his hand tangling in your hair. Looking at you closely, he could see the exhaustion beneath the surface and felt a pang of guilt for agreeing with everyone (including you) that you should come as early as permissible by school standards.

"Hey, baby," He uttered, pressed his forehead to yours with a lopsided, affectionate grin, and hinted greedily for a kiss that you supplied without complaint. He almost groaned as your lips yielded under his, the simple touch striking a match low in his belly. Fuck, he wanted you. Like, always. Was hardwired at this point to get aroused whenever you were within arm's length. It was driving him half insane that he couldn't climb into the back of the car with you, have you straddle his lap, and show you how affected he was by you.

"Rhonda's right," Maddie commented from the sidelines, referencing something Rhonda had said the previous night after you'd left with your brother-in-law. "You guys are gross."

You pulled away from Wally with a cackle, prompting him to place you back on your feet, and said, "Oh, like you and Zav aren't just as bad."

Twirling around and bending (very nicely) into the backseat of the car to collect your things, you didn't see the look that flashed across Maddie's face, one of hurt and betrayal and anger, but Wally did and it made him want to grab you by the shoulders, and shake you until you stopped thinking the world of Xavier Baxter. He wouldn't dare do that, of course, you were too precious, and he couldn't imagine doing anything to frighten you like that. On the contrary, he'd proudly do things to Xavier that would earn Wally a spot on a Most Wanted list if he'd still been alive.

He pushed those thoughts down when you straightened, lifting a lush, full bouquet into your arms which you handed over to Maddie in a way that signaled to Wally you and she were used to each other's motions and mannerisms. Again, you reached into the car, grabbed your backpack, and hoisted it out of the backseat. Wally noticed that it seemed to weigh more to you than normal and took it from you, slinging it over his shoulder with a broad grin.

"Such a gentleman," You teased, though Wally could see how much you enjoyed the gesture by the way you pinked up so sweetly. He slung his arm around your waist and pulled you into his side as you and he walked, stamping a kiss to your hair and openly breathing in the scent of musky vanilla and coconut.

"Wait." Maddie said, just as you and Wally were about to reach the door. You and he paused, turning to look at Maddie as she regarded the bouquet in her hands and then the backpack on Wally's shoulder, an intense cast to her features. "How..." She squinted at you, "Where are the originals?" Scanned back to the car, then you, then the bouquet.

"Originals?" You asked, completely lost, though Wally recognized what Maddie meant. It hadn't occurred to him how unfeasible it was that he still had the notes you'd given him stashed away in his private, just-for-him corner of the school; none of the resets between now and then had vanished them as resets were wont to do.

"Yeah, the originals." Maddie repeated.

Wally stepped in, taking over the explanation since Maddie appeared to struggle with how to phrase that every object they, as ghosts, picked up was just a clone of one that stayed anchored in the living world. He did his best to describe it, beckoning both you and Maddie to follow him so he could show you an example with a piece of chalk in an unlocked classroom. He lifted it, of course wielding the copy while the original remained in place, untouched, not even a sign that it'd been tampered with.

You cocked your head, lifting the original and handing it to Maddie who took it without issue. Experimenting, Maddie placed it back on the chalk ledge, left it there for multiple seconds, and then instructed Wally to, "Pick it up now."

Wally did.

As in he actually did. Picked up the original, no immense, herculean emphasis of energy required (and that very, very rarely worked, normally resulting in a brief flicker of an already on-its-way-out lightbulb). How had Wally not noticed before?

"Gnarly," Wally laughed, tossing the chalk in the air and catching it. "Do you think the living see it floating if I'm holding it?" He began to zoom it around like a toy airplane. "I wonder if it works the other way."

"What do you mean?" You asked.

"Like, things that we brought with us into the afterlife," Maddie clarified, "Do you think you could make them real on your side?"

You shrugged and admitted, "I didn't even know I could do this until you guys pointed it out." And then you sighed and rubbed your temples, "Another thing to add to the laundry list of stuff I have to look in to." You looked at Maddie, "I'd probably need someone who can't see you guys to confirm whether or not it works both ways."

Wally strode over to you, putting the chalk back down on the ledge as he went. He adjusted the weight of your backpack on his shoulder so he could cradle your face in both of his big palms. "One thing at a time, baby," He said, brushing a strand of your hair behind your ear, "Let's check off giving Mina the flowers and then go from there, okay?"

You slumped, thankful, and slanted into him so that your forehead was pressed to the center of his chest, "That sounds like a good plan."

Together, you, Wally, and Maddie strolled to the theater, passing Mr. South who welcomed you with a friendly wave and a short hello. His eyes seemed to flicker this way and that, as if sensitive to the school lighting, as he watched you walk by, Maddie close to your side, Wally a half-step behind and falling farther back as he studied Mr. South. Vaguely, he heard the man mutter, "Mm, dahlias," but that was about as much fuss as he expressed. Nothing to indicate Mr. South saw a puppeted bouquet or levitating backpack drifting down the hall of their own volition.

Wally caught up to you and Maddie quickly, his hand finding the small of your back on instinct. Rhonda and Charlie were already outside the theater when you, Maddie, and Wally arrived, Charlie rising from where he'd been seated on the floor as Rhonda pushed herself off the wall, today's lollipop stuffed into her cheek.

"Well, Ajay got her down," She announced, rolling her eyes, "But she refuses to talk to us. She won't even answer Ajay if he asks because she knows the questions aren't his." Belligerent, Rhonda shook her head, "And I thought Janet was a diva."

Charley shook his head, "I'm sorry, but that," He hooked his thumb over his shoulder to stipulate Mina's behavior, "isn't anywhere near as bad as Janet was. At least Mina was polite when she told us where to go."

Rhonda conceded with a bob of her head, pursed lips, and raised brows. Upon noticing the flowers, she remarked, "Huh, you came through, strawberry pie," her tone impressed, "Next time you should bring lover boy a new wardrobe," a smirk at Wally and a coy look at you, "He looks pretty good in jeans."

Wally cleared his throat and squeezed you to him tightly, his gaze soft and imploring as he said, "Ignore her, you don't have to bring me anything," then to Rhonda, "She's not our personal gofer."

Rhonda raised her hands in surrender, glimpsing at Charley in amusement, "No need to blow your jets, superstar, it was just a suggestion."

Charley added, "And a joke," as he gave Rhonda a sardonic side-eye. "So, should we get this over with? See if our Split River Phantom has anything useful to share?"

You patted Wally's chest to signal for your backpack which he handed over with a pout, disliking the idea of you hauling it around when you were so tired.

"You guys go do that. I'm going to steal Ajay and see if we can figure out what these symbols mean." You looked at Maddie, "If you guys find anything, let me know."

"How?" Maddie wondered. It wasn't as if she still had a means of communication in the afterlife; the decoy phone had been with Xavier when she'd been thrown from her body, and, as far as Wally knew, her real phone was in pieces. Even if she did have a phone...would it have worked? Wally had heard Dawn brag about her 'socials', but she wasn't actually capturing or uploading selfies...was she?

Before he could fall too far down that rabbit hole, he felt your hand grasp his, fingers twined, skin smooth under his thumb. You grinned at Maddie, "That's the best part," you brought your and Wally's joined hands up, "If Ajay and I don't get back before you're done, just manipulate the connection. Wally and I—"

"Don't know if it'll work!" He interrupted, worried that you might've forgotten that all those times he'd felt your emotions like his own or found you in crowded spaces had happened before last night.

It seemed you had because you blinked those darling Bambi eyes up at him, visibly uncertain. Wally saw the instant you realized your mistake, could see the gears turning as you backtracked and reassembled your speech. It didn't take long, maybe a second or two, and then you picked up where you'd left off, saying, "—but it should make it so he can find me."

Rhonda twirled her lollipop, whistled in surprise, "Magic is in.sane."

"It's not magic," You stated mildly, "It's connectedness. I promise there is a difference." You listed into Wally's side, turned your head to hide a yawn, and then seemed to try to shake yourself awake.

In response, Wally, cupped the back of your head and kissed your hair, rubbing his hand up and down your arm while holding you closer. "You gonna be okay?" He asked, concerned that you might not be able to stay upright much longer.

"I'll be fine," You said, however, the assurance you'd meant to offer was dimmed by another yawn you couldn't suppress.

It was then that Ajay appeared. He held the door to the theater open for Charley, Rhonda, and Maddie who waved their see-you-laters to you. Wally released you in measured degrees, careful and considerate, so you wouldn't fall into the space he left behind.

"I'm coming to find you as soon as we get something, okay, baby?"

You nodded, a forced smile on your face that made Wally want to carry you home and tuck you into your bed. Innocently. Innocently. But he couldn't help himself, dipping in to capture your lips in a gentle kiss that still somehow made his breath catch and his heart pound and his belly coil tight with desire.

"Okay, we get it, you're hot for each other, can we go now?" Ajay's voice cut through the muggy atmosphere that now permeated between you and Wally, exasperation pitched shrill as a school bell.

Wally untangled himself from you, hated having to do it, but understood that it needed to be done in order for both you and him to focus on what was important. That was finding clues or proof that Mr. Anderson was involved in Maddie's circumstances and pointing the police away from Simon. Right. Wally was an independent, capable guy who could do what it took to help. He just didn't want to do it without you plastered to him in some way.

"That face is exactly why you two can't be around each other right now." Ajay stated flatly, all but shoving Wally aside and ushering you back down the hall.

With a chuckle, Wally called after you, "I'll see you later, baby!"

"If either of you say 'I'll miss you', I'm boycotting this relationship until I can cross over." Ajay declared, not allowing you to stop and respond.

‗‗‗‗•‗‗‗‗

Xavier sat behind the wheel of his truck, nervous, jittery; inching toward full-blown paranoia after having stopped at your house to pick you up. He'd received your message earlier, the one that had gently told him to stay home and sleep in since you weren't going to crusade after evidence against Mr. Anderson until a more appropriate hour.

But he hadn't been able to get back to sleep, had instead sat in bed contemplating how fucked up everything would inevitably get. And he was scared. Your newfound friendship with Simon made Xavier's veins clog with cold, slimy fear. He had no idea if Maddie had read the message he'd accidentally sent her ("i'm alone. lmk if ur still in the mood, babe🔥"). Had no idea if she'd told Simon about Xavier and Claire. Simon hadn't outright accused Xavier of cheating on Maddie—not to Xavier's face, anyway—but, if Simon did know, it was only a matter of time before it came up and Xavier lost you forever.

Fueled by anxiety and desperation, Xavier had dressed and left the house in a flurry, drove over and at the speed limit in frenzied intervals as he'd forgotten and remembered it by turns. He'd arrived at your place faster than ever before only to discover that, according to Abigail, you'd left about forty-five minutes earlier. Granted, you hadn't explicitly said you'd want to spend the morning by yourself at home, but Xavier couldn't shake the feeling that something was utterly and profoundly wrong.

Why go to the school alone? Why leave him out of it? An agitated growl ruptured from his throat as he smacked the steering wheel, tears springing to his eyes unbidden. He pulled in huge gulps of air to stop himself from tipping into a panicked breakdown, begged the universe or God or whatever was out there that he was overthinking it, that you weren't slipping away from him and everything was okay, it was all going to be okay.

Except it wasn't okay. He'd fucked up and fucked around and made you participate by sending texts about band practices that'd never been scheduled, lies about how you'd needed help around the house and Xavier was family so he'd been obligated to assist. Jesus Christ, what had he done? He couldn't breathe, a balloon in his chest that expanded the closer he got to the school. When he pulled in and saw your mother's car, he was already one foot into a mental crisis.

He parked beside your mother's car and sat for a moment, filtering through a litany of excuses and reasons and apologies to retch at your feet in libation. Xavier couldn't. lose. you. Not you. The only person left in his life who fucking mattered. Hurt and anger and grief and hopelessness funneled into him, a tornado of self-deprecation howling insults that ricocheted inside his skull, the torment building and building and—

"FUCK." He belted, smashing the steering wheel over and over again until his body collapsed forward and he heaved a thick, wet sob.

‗‗‗‗•‗‗‗‗

The other vertices in the barrier projected outward from symbols that varied slightly from the first you'd found. Two were etched in stone, one in a tree planted on the same alignment as the other, and the last had been burned so thoroughly into the dirt that you couldn't dig under it or dig it up.

"Can we call it magic now?" Ajay folded his arms and thinned his lips in a dour line as he watched you dog-dig at the dirt from a new angle. "Because this feels like magic."

You huffed and let yourself fall back on your bum, mopping the sweat from your brow with the sleeve of your sweater. "I mean, it's harnessed energy," you countered, still reluctant to call it something so fantastical when you had dirt caked under your fingernails and math class in twenty minutes. Those mundane, ultra-ordinary truths made it difficult to reconcile the existence of something Harry Potter fought a war with.

Ajay wasn't having it, "Girl, just say it. It's magic."

A squawky noise of denial later and you snapped a picture of the symbol on your phone, finally standing and returning to your backpack which you'd left at Ajay's feet. You dug out the notebook you'd used to scribble down the Futhark alphabet last night before tiptoeing back into Aiden's room and compared the symbol in the dirt to the runes on the page.

"It's like the others," You observed, "It has all the binding elements, except this one also has an extra line here..." You indicated, chewed your lip in thought, frustrated when nothing jumped out at you. Whoever had created these symbols and performed the ritual that accompanied them had either not known anything about the Futhark runes or they'd known too much. Which meant that you had no way of decoding the bastardized symbols by yourself. At least, not without major effort.

"An extra line?" Ajay echoed, "To make us extra trapped?"

You slanted him an unimpressed look, "No, Sassy McQueen...but also kind of yes."

Ajay flashed a victorious grin then crouched to look over your shoulder at your notebook. "Why would someone want to trap ghosts here?"

"Maybe they didn't." You considered as you brainstormed aloud, "Maybe they wanted to trap something and didn't realize the effect their spell—"

"Which is magic."

"—Nghyah," You declined and then continued, "The effect their spell would have on the different realms within the parcel they created."

"I know English isn't my first language, but I can tell that wouldn't make sense to anyone."

You rolled your eyes, clapping your notebook closed and filing it away in your backpack. "Think of the spell like a box. Whoever cast it brought that box down on this specific location, trapping everything in this location in it. But it only affects things outside of the physical world because it's not a physical box."

"...Have you ever seen the Witches of Eastwick?"

"Have you?"

You straightened, bowing your back to loosen the stiffness that had collected in your spine. Ajay took responsibility of your backpack and together you and he walked back toward the school.

After a short silence, Ajay spoke, "You know, Wally mentioned a cult that used to practice around here. He's really into that spooky-ooky, creepy shit." He emphasized with spirit fingers.

You stopped and stared after Ajay, eyes round and mouth ajar, "Wally? Golden retriever, football bro, Wally?"

Ajay turned to walk backward, smiling, "Oh yeah. He was into it before he died, too. A real savant of the deranged history of Split River." He pondered you for a moment and then muttered, "You know you two are allowed to talk when you're alone, right?"

Kissing your teeth, you resumed your stride, waving Ajay off, "In our defense, we haven't actually had a lot of time to be alone since we started talking."

Ajay snorted, but merrily settled his pace to match yours, his gait slower and longer, "He was alive during the rise of the Satanic Panic. If I'm remembering right, he told me about a cult called the Something-Something of Dagda."

"Very helpful."

"They were established before Milwaukee was founded and then faded out of history for awhile."

You sighed drearily, having heard similar tales through the family grapevine as well as your own special-interest research, "Let me guess, the Something-Something of Dagda made a comeback in the '20s when it was fashionable to be associated with the occult?"

Ajay nodded, "I think that's what Wally said. Apparently, they crawled back into the shadows, never to be heard from again, just after the Second World War."

"Typical," You chuckled, shaking your head, "You join a resurrectionist cult and then leave when—"

"How do you know it was resurrectionist?"

"I'm assuming." You confessed, "Dagda is a Celtic god whose staff can resurrect or kill whoever he clubs with it." When Ajay acknowledged your answer with a low oh, you expanded on your previous point, "I guess the members didn't like that their sons didn't all come home in one piece." To put it crudely. Unfortunately, that was the reality of many cults borne from the spiritualism boom in the 1920s. People either got bored or got bitter when their prophet couldn't stand and deliver in the face of a catastrophic global event.

You and Ajay entered the theater from the side door to avoid the students who began to flood the halls as the morning trundled toward the first bell. You found Maddie appearing like the second coming out of the center of the stage, followed closely by Wally, then Rhonda, Charley, and lastly, Mina who turned and closed the trapdoor behind her.

"You find anything?" You inquired as Wally neared you, eagerness writ all over his features.

"Yeah!" Wally grinned, planting himself in front of you to band his arms around your waist, "You?"

"The symbols are definitely based on the Futhark alphabet and they're all designed to keep energies in." You said, snuggling into his front, happy to let him take your weight. He shifted you around so you and he could walk toward the stage, everyone gathered around a spot at the end of the center aisle. Rhonda and Charley sat on the edge of the stage, Ajay joined Mina who leaned beside Charley's legs, and Maddie stood with her back to the door, facing everyone.

As soon as you were within reach, she held out a piece of paper, informing you that, "It's a receipt for new band uniforms signed by Mr. Anderson." You scanned the paper, trying to absorb where it fit in the puzzle, but your brain was rapidly losing steam. Seeming to read your fatigue, Maddie interpreted it on your behalf, "I think he's been stealing money from Booster Club. He's got a whole operation under the stage to sew new patches onto old band uniforms."

All you could think to respond with was, "Holy shit."

"It doesn't prove he had anything to do with what happened to me," Maddie went on, "But I think it'll help Simon."

"Maddie this is awesome." You smiled encouragingly and shambled forward to hug her. With your arm still around her shoulders, you and she looked over the receipt again, particularly the cash amount at the bottom, "Is that how much you figure was in the closet?"

"I'd say it for sure is." She answered, her gaze turning a trepidatious sort of hopeful, "It's Friday, so there's a staff meeting tonight. If we give this to Simon, he can prove that Mr. Anderson is guilty of something and then we can try to figure out where my body is. Together."

"Together." You repeated with a grin because, God dammit, finally, you felt like progress was being made. While not the kind of progress you'd hoped for, it was something, and now that you knew Simon could see Maddie, you didn't have to swerve around landmines in conversation to hide your abilities; you could let him in instead.

It was one step closer to bringing Maddie home.

‗‗‗‗•‗‗‗‗

Xavier hated himself more than he had before his breakdown, having succumbed to the siren call of his vape in the dissociative aftermath. He skulked into the school, shoulders up and hands stuffed in his pockets in an effort to make himself invisible. He wasn't going to his first class, wasn't entirely aware of where he was going, but he followed his feet nonetheless. Since the blissful first hit, his mind had quieted some, though his nerves were still ragged, eyes puffy and bloodshot, hair rumpled, a scab on his lip where he'd bitten it too hard to redirect the emotional pain he'd inflicted on himself.

He was distantly surprised to find himself standing in front of the theater when he eventually lifted his gaze from the ground. Without giving it too much thought, he reached out and opened the door, stepping into the shadowy space beyond. For a moment, a cotton-candy static fuzzed across his brain and made it hard to process whether or not what his eyes saw was real.

It couldn't be, could it?

At the end of the center aisle, you stood, body wilted from exhaustion. Around you were incoherent silhouettes that phased in and out of focus, nothing substantial to them, just distorted shadows that seemed out of place against the direction of what muted light filtered into the theater. What made his breath catch and the balloon in his chest swell bigger wasn't you, standing in the dark, or the uncanny shadows, it was—

"Maddie," He croaked, voice reedy and tight, "You came back."

The fuzziness in his head was instantly replaced by fear when his gaze slid to you, an expression on your face—wide eyes, parted lips, furrowed brows—that Xavier readily interpreted as betrayal. The darkness crowded against him, the rampage of wailing curses picked up within him again, screaming at him for how worthless and stupid and vile he was to do what he'd done.

"I-I'm so sorry," He choked out, pushing the words past the balloon that had expanded from his chest into his throat. Maddie's expression didn't change, something akin to alarm or hate or defeat or all three, he didn't know because his vision was beginning to cloud. "I'm so, so sorry." And then he stumbled sideways, falling into one of the empty seats, curling himself into a ball as if he could make himself disappear. Everything would be better, so much better, if he could just...stop being.

Xavier didn't realize he was crying until he felt your hands on him, pushing his arms away from his head, forcing him to kneel on the ground with you.

"Zav? What's happening? Are you okay? Zav!"

Your words sounded spoken through water and he couldn't get his head above the surface, couldn't breathe, couldn't answer, his body wracked violently with stinging sobs as he kept trying to apologize. He grappled at your back, pinned you against him, a buoy to keep him afloat as the waves crashed over him and threatened to pull him down into the cavernous abyss below.

"I'm sorry, please, don't leave me, I'm so sorry," He begged you, but couldn't hear himself, so he repeated it louder and louder until his throat scraped.

This is the moment, a facsimile of Maddie's voice told him, this is the moment you lose everyone.

And then another voice, unfamiliar, louder than Xavier's, louder than Maddie's, began to roar:

💀___________________________

PART TWENTY-THREE - PART TWENTY-FIVE

also available on AO3!

MASTERLIST

[sunnie-angel]

Sunnie I've been inundated with thoughts of wuh luh wuh!!!! How do you think childhood bff femjay would react to reader inviting her over for a sleepover (aka, the thing they haven't done together since they were young, before Jay's death). I'm thinking about the fact that Jay's got a crazy suppressed crush on her best friend and she doesn't know if she can handle r braiding Jay's hair or painting her nails, close and gentle and so much softer than Jay is 🩷

as you should!!!! the jay todd wlw brainrot is here to stay and sanne you are cooking up something sooo delicious with this idea

you invite jay over and before you've even got the sentence out she's nodding her head and agreeing, asking what time to come over and if she should bring her own pillow. because it means everything's back to normal if you want to resume all your old traditions together right? that you're ready to trust her with your vulnerable sleeping form, the soft huffs of your slumbering breaths, the rise and fall of your--. oh. oh this is not gonna be the same at all.

you order takeout and its jay's favourite, her order exactly. you didn't even have to ask because you already know.....wait does this mean the two of you have a regular order? a regular order to a regular restaurant that you know by heart? jay's trying really, really hard not to choke on her lo mein but its hard when she's coming to the catastrophic realization that not only do you know her well, you've incorporated her little quirks into your life so effortlessly.

you put on a movie -- one the two of you have seen so many times before but it makes you laugh so jay really doesn't mind -- settle yourself on the couch beside her and start to braid her hair. and it should be fine right? you've done it so many times for her, before and after resurrecting. you even braid her hair semi-regularly if she's hanging out with you before patrol, so this should be no big deal. wrong. usually, you're not wearing your pyjamas with the stretched out neckline slipping off your shoulders and giving jay an eyeful of more.....intimate sights. you're not usually adding in hair oils and leave in conditioner that smells oh so good and just like you. you're not finishing the ends of her braids with soft satin scrunchies in a shade of red jay's sure you didn't own before tonight. you don't usually spend long minutes after you're done running your nails lightly over her scalp until she's a melted puddle on the couch. then its her turn and her large scarred hands feel so clumsy running a brush through your hair but you don't run away screaming when she encounters the first knot so she'll call it a win. jay's so giddy at the chance to bury her hands in your hair and just play.

she hardly dares breathe when you nestle in beside her, pulling the throw blanket over you both. your arms are circling her waist gently keeping her close and jay doesn't think that even clark could peel her away because your head is resting on her shoulder and your bare thighs in their tiny shorts are pressed up against hers. every time you laugh, jay can feel your breath on her collarbones, the way shake against her ribs. jay couldn't tell you a single thing that happened during the entire movie if you asked her. no, she was too wrapped up in you using her as a pillow, trusting her to keep you close.

the credits roll and you blink up at her blearily, face too close for her to concentrate on anything you're actually saying. she comes to her sense when you start talking about which side of the bed she wants to take, if its still the same as it used to be. like yes you two used to share a bed as kids but she'd just kinda assumed she'd be taking the couch??? and you're laughing at her telling her not to be so silly, you've shared sooo many times before this time won't be any different. she's laying stiff as a board in bed trying desperately not to touch or encroach too far but you're snuggling up to her again, adjusting her strong arms to fold around you just so, so that you have one to pillow your head. this is a sleepover though right? you can't just go straight t obed you have to gossip first. and you're sorry you didn't pick up any magazines for topics but jay remembers how to do girl talk right? so who's jay crushing on, hmmm? somebody you both know?

[butcherlarry]

Weekly Fic Recs 88

This week's fic recs!

love comes quickly by TheResurrectionist @frownyalfred - Superbat, Unrated, 10648 words, wip.

Summary: Clark struggles with something his Ma might call jealousy after walking in on Bruce and Hal together after a mission. Instead of letting Clark's feelings ruin the Justice League's hard-won team cohesion, Bruce suggests an alternative arrangement: sleep together once, work the tension between them out of their systems, and then go back to normal afterward. The problem with that plan? It's not just casual, and neither of them can ever go back to normal once it's all said and done.

I love me a good jealous Clark fic, so I was very excited to read this. And Bruce??? Denying his feelings towards Clark?? And thinking a one night stand will get Clark's feelings toward Bruce out of his system?? So much emotional shenanigans are going to happen, I'm so excited :D

Caring for Cattle by Rgfellows - Superbat, General, 8783 words, complete.

Summary: “Do you have much experience caring for cows?” Batman asked. Clark stared. He tried to process the question. He kept staring. Batman offered nothing further to elaborate. “Cows?” He finally asked. Batman gave a small sigh from his nose. He was as close to fidgeting as Clark had ever seen him. “Yes. Cows." Clark learns more about his very secretive friend thanks to a very unexpected set of circumstances

I read the title and knew I had to read this fic. Super cute!!! So happy to read about Clark going back to his farm roots to bond with Bruce.

skythrush by pomeloquat @pomeloquat - Clark Kent & Bruce Wayne, Teen, 5292 words, complete.

Summary: While protecting his city from the animals that seek to destroy it, Bruce makes the acquaintance of a little bird.

Ok, if you know me, you KNOW that I love birds, I love birding, and I love taking pictures of birds. When I read this I was SO HAPPY to read about Clark being associated with Eastern bluebirds. I have always thought this and as SO HAPPY to read about it this fic too! Do yourself a favor and go Google them RIGHT NOW and you'll see why Bruce thought of Clark as a bluebird. Actually, don't bother, here is a link. DO YOU SEE NOW???

I have also been reading Absolute Batman and Superman as those comics have been released on the DC app and have been enjoying the heck out of them. So happy to be reading fics about those characters too!

precious things by TheResurrectionist - Pennywaynes, Unrated, 1556 words, complete.

Summary: Alfred was aware that Thomas would, inevitably, enjoy such a thing. Forcing him to dig half-moons into the Carpathian Elm, as if the hardwood tables and desks in the other rooms weren’t suitable. No, Thomas had insisted upon the antique, old-world desk with a softer, delicate finish. The one Alfred barely dared to look at in between cleanings.

PENNYWAYNES!!!!!! Love me some Pennywaynes. Also love me some Thomas (or Martha) trying to make Alfred lose his composure while being fucked within an inch of his life.

Jason and His Boys series by elluv_asun - Batfam, Teen, 17155 words, series not complete but the fics are :D

Series Summary: All stories about Jason interacting with his crew. They're not all boys, but they are all His Boys, thank you for understanding How to be a Leader: For Dummies Summary: Jason's been trying to recruit a good crew for awhile. Visiting the library finally helps him figure it out - he needs to inspire loyalty through loyalty. Gain trust through vulnerability. If he follows the rules of strong leadership he's been researching, he'll get a solid crew for sure. The only thing is… it works too well? Now it seems like they … like him?

Breaking News! Brucie Wayne Getting Cozy With Crime? Summary: Prompt: Bruce Wayne publicly adopts the crime lord Red Hood. The city is confused, but now that they're looking closer, the guy actually doesn't seem that bad...Or maybe he is. Bonus: A shot of him without his helmet or a personal conversation between the two leaks Story told through a multitude of perspectives. Bruce Wayne accidentally publicly adopts the Red Hood while the other kids are out of town.

Both these fics were so much fun to read! I loved Jason building positive relationships with his goons and caring for their well being. And the second fic where Brucie interacts with Red Hood was excellent! It was fun to read about Bruce rebuilding his relationship with Jason through his Brucie persona and Jason being thrown for a loop about it!

oh, lover (i'll cover you) series by handfulofteeth (s0norus) @etiolatedmutant - Poolverine, Explicit, 48947 words, series not complete but the fics are :D

guess Summary: Three months have crept by right under his nose. The air outside crisped and then froze over, the leaves bled orange and yellow before finally snapping off their branches and allowing thick snow to pile up in their stead, and Logan is so fucking fond of Wade it makes him wanna throw up. Logan stops talking. He’s mid-scold, tossing his soiled paper towel onto the counter and about to reach for another one when his eyes land on Wade. He’s got his pajamas halfway down his thighs, clearly trying to avoid sticking his fingers all over the gooey fabric, and whatever, that on its own isn’t a big deal. What is a big deal, a huge, massive fucking deal, is what Wade’s wearing underneath his pajamas. Panties.

happiness (like a bullet in the back) summary: What do you get when you cross a supercentenarian mutant alcoholic with anger issues and a chronic case of emotional constipation, with the world's single most irritating Canadian mercenary with a face like a rotten potato? Answer: domestic fucking bliss. OR Five times Logan Howlett is stupidly soft for Wade Wilson, and one time he isn't.

black irises in the the sunshine Summary: Really, when did Logan get so whipped for this loudmouthed little shit? Sometime between being yoinked out of his original universe by the scruff of his neck and realizing he was ill-advisedly in love again, he reckons, but even he’s willing to admit those events are separated by an infinitesimal gap. He falls hard, and he falls fast, and Wade Wilson was (is) no exception. OR Wade catches Logan engaging in some good ol' fashioned depravity and Logan has a lot of Big Feelings about bottoming.

This was a fabulous series to read! I enjoyed the first and third fics, mainly because I enjoy reading about Logan discovering new kinks about himself, trying to hide them from Wade, Wade discovering them, and then fun times (and feelings) are had by all. The second fic was a lovely fic looking at the domestic side of their relationship. I love reading about them caring for each other when they are both dealing with Bad Days.

Humble My Heart by CaptainDoofus - Poolverine, Mature, 3570 words, wip.

Summary: Wade Wilson, an overnight janitor at a military research facility, develops a mutual fascination with the captured wolf-man being held there. Or: Poolverine "The Shape of Water" AU.

I read "The Shape of Water" AU and came running. I fucking loved that movie and I can't wait to read where this fic goes!

Stay, Stay, Stay by Curupia @curupia - Poolverine, Teen, 3985 words, complete.

Summary: Wade took a deep breath and squared his shoulders, reaching for the doorknob. Fuck. Okay. Time to face the music. He opened the door to their bedroom, expecting to find a passed-out Logan sprawled on the couch, maybe a bottle (or seven) of booze scattered around the floor. He figured he’d sneak past quietly and get breakfast started, wake Logan up with the promise of bacon and a truce. They’d mumble some apologies, have earth-shattering make up sex, and everything would be back to normal. What he did not expect was an empty apartment. Well shit. ________ Logan and Wade have a fight and Logan storms out. Wade starts to panic that maybe this time, he isn't coming back. (Happy ending, I promise)

While I do love sappy and fluffy Poolverine fics, not everything about their relationship is sunshine and roses. This fic takes a look at the bumps that happen along the way.

sex pollen and scrambled eggs by LukeQatwalker @hondafuckingodyssey - Poolverine, Explicit, 4992 words, complete.

Summary: Logan gets back into the car and tosses the bag with the lube in it into Wade's lap, thanking god for self checkout machines, because he's pretty sure that's going to go down as the worst retail experience of his god damned life. He adjusts his dick, which is still rock hard and bordering painful, from where he had it tucked up in his waist band. Jesus, he hopes nobody recognized him, buying lube with a hard on, with just a ball cap and a jacket thrown over the wolverine costume. "Ok, so the plan is, we get back to the hotel, whatever happens happens, this stuff works its way out of our system in a few hours, and we can just pretend it never happened, right?" Logan asks. *** The boys get hit with the sex pollen on a mission!

I am a sucker for a good sex pollen fic, no I will not apologize (Very excited about the potential of a follow up chapter).

Happy reading!

[axstoria]

Somebody said this, and I can't stop thinking about it... (From this post: The Crush of The Justice League)

Cw: Everybody gets a lil silly with their thoughts, nothing is really descriptive

Btw, in this, only Oliver knows that Bruce is Batman! (And Clark and Barry are unmarried, Lois is just FWB.)

Omega!Bruce thinking his team just looks up to him for the normal reasons: as a mentor, the voice of reason, and the one who seemingly knows everything about everything.

What he didn't expect was for all the attention one meeting to be caused by the entire League placing bets on his secondary gender.

Clark and J'onn are aliens, so their secondary genders don't fit into human standards. If anything, J'onn's switched at will and Clark was whatever the hell the highest tier was, because there was no way in hell that the man who could knock down entire buildings with his bare hands was anywhere NEAR being an omega.

Alpha!Barry and Alpha!Hal has bets on him being a regular old alpha, especially because of how broody and authoritative all the time.

Beta!Diana and Beta!Dinah are torn between Bruce being beta or omega. Sure, he's all big and strong, but they once had a night out with Lois where she said that Clark, of all people, enjoyed the other end of things every now and then.

The only omega on the team, Oliver, is the only one who knows the truth. He's been in that man's bed one too many times to keep up Bruce's playboy persona. This was before he mated Dinah, of course. He'd never betray his beloved wife like that.

It's when Bruce hears the chatter get a little too loud does he realize what they're talking about, and his stoic face dips into a disapproving frown. "We have an interstellar threat, yet you are all placing bets on what I am?"

He raises a brow under the cowl, and while no one can see it, they all know they're in deep shit if they continue to talk.

The Justice League decide then and there that if Batman can get Superman to back down, he must be whatever an Alpha God is.

They just don't see the way he comes home to dote on his pups, grabbing Damian and Duke and dragging them away to the Manor Nest so he can scent them. He would like his others, but they have their own lives to live, so he won't bring them back home just because his instincts urge him to.

When identity reveals come along, everyone is dumbfounded. There's no way that Bruce Wayne, billionaire omega playboy, is the Dark Knight.

An image hits Clark in the head, the memory of him and Bruce in a back room together after an interview surfacing yet again. He'd only dared to remember that on lonely nights where patrol had been too much and he had adrenaline to blow off.

Diana, Dinah, Flash, and Hal are all collectively blinking slowly, staring at the uncowled man.

Bruce is now considered a free-for-all. Every unmated member of the League is actively trying to mate the Bat, offering stupid little trinkets and complimenting his work. The alphas get a little carried away, often peeling off scent blockers in the Watchtower to try and get a rouse out of Bruce.

Clark and Diana will randomly pick him up, as if to show off their strength, Hal will construct whatever Bruce needs at the moment, and Barry has become his personal errand boy.

While Bruce would say this is a little over-the-top, he's never seen his team so cooperative before.

Sure, though, now he can't pick a mate from the League (they'd probably kill one another in jealousy), but he can at least reap the benefits.

[itsonlybaby]

𐙚ᣟ݂﹒𝐟𝐚𝐢𝐥𝐞𝐝 𝐦𝐢𝐬𝐬𝐢𝐨𝐧 - 𝐛. 𝐛𝐥𝐚𝐤𝐞﹒

◜♡﹒﹒𝐫𝐞𝐪𝐮𝐞𝐬𝐭﹒𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭﹒𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭

playlist !

Bellamy Blake - Drop ship

꒰ ୨୧ ꒱ ⸝⸝ You're an Azgeda assassin sent to kill Bellamy after the mass genocides to Trikru. Azgeda assassins are supposed to be stone-cold, and feel nothing, but what happens when a certain boy tries to gain your trust ﹒ 　 ⊹ 　⤷ cw: smut, nsfw, oral, a little violence

Day two

Sitting atop my horse, Swan, I was studying the boy beyond the trees. He knew I was here, he was also studying me as well. He goes by the name 'Bellamy Blake', an oddly long name, but a name you don't see every day.

I was here to kill him.

To deliver his head to my buyers, Titus, the fleimkepa, and King Roan.

I had been following this Bellamy for two days, he's known I was following him for a few hours, and my horse had given it away.

I like to study my targets, see what they are like, study their mannerisms, and how they survive. It isn't standard, most assassins would've had it done within the hour. I've had the chance to kill him plenty of times. He is always so vulnerable to attacks, or maybe he knows that and is testing me.

Bellamy carries himself well for the most part, he's a good shot but very loud, as most Skaikru are. It was fairly easy to track him. The first day I was sent he was at their initial landing spot, what they call a 'dropship'. I wasn't sure why he wasn't behind the walls of Arkadia, could they have banished him?

My thoughts were cut short when I realized I had lost sight of him, I couldn't believe I got so caught up in my own thoughts to realize he was gone.

I hitched Swan and treaded lightly to his last position by the river.

Under a rock was a note and a piece of fish, the note would've been nice if I could read it.

The ignorance of Skaikru.

It wasn't that I couldn't speak English, in fact, I was fluent, as all warriors and assassins are. Only the warriors are taught English along with Trigdasleng, it was so we could understand the Mountain Men, well when they were a threat.

Thank you, Clarke.

I had tossed the piece of fish back into the river as I didn't trust Bellamy, I mean I was here to kill him after all.

Looking into the dirt I saw a heavy set of footprints, foolish boy. They were leading back to the dropship, were he was spending most of his days. His schedule was very plain, wake up, walk to the river, eat, walk back. Very boring for a sky person.

I walked back to Swan to hitch her somewhere safe and headed towards the dropship carefully.

Clearly not careful enough as I ended up in a trap, a bear trap of some sorts. It didn't have jagged edges like a normal trap, it was flat and only applied enough pressure to injure my foot and land me on the ground.

"Who are you?"

I heard a voice call from the bushes, it was very easy to spot him as he was a fairly tall man. How stupid could I have been? I wasn't even watching where I was looking? The trap wasn't even hidden that well and I walked right into it. I got weak. Clumsy. I let my guard down. I could never call myself an Azgeda assassin after this.

Moments passed without an answer from me and he was growing impatient.

"I said who are you? I am not afraid to kill you, grounder." Bellamy yelled, now emerging from the bushes with a pistol in hand. I may have let my guard down but I wouldn't let this man intimidate me.

"Azgeda," I say flatly, not revealing anything else.

Bellamy pondered for a moment, his gaze on me remained strong, not daring to look away, it was clear I intimidated him.

"Ice Nation? I said who are you."

No response.

"Tell me or I swear I will pull this trigger!" He shouted, stepping closer until the barrel of the gun was against my forehead.

I had already accepted death.

"Ai gonplei ste odon." My fight is over.

Bellamy had pistol-whipped me, and before I knew it I was knocked out.

Day three

I had awoken tied to the ladder in the dropship. Looking around I saw that most things were covered in tar from the fire, the only clean things being Bellamy's makeshift bed and his other belongings, as well as all my armor and layers, leaving me in a simple t-shirt; which I could only assume was his, and my jeans.

I was tied down with leftover seatbelts, very sturdy, I had struggled before finally giving in after a headache caught up with me.

I groaned in pain, death would've been kinder than a pistolwhip. Where even was he? Had he just left me here to rot?

A few moments after Bellamy had appeared from behind the red tarp acting as a door, he was wearing what he always wears. A gray shirt paired with his usual black jacket, with certain patches gone missing. His hair and face had been littered with dirt and blood, though I was sure the blood wasn't his.

"Good, you're awake. Makes this a lot easier." Bellamy spoke, swiftly walking to his pack next to his bed. My worry grew when he pulled something out, was he going to kill me now?

He pulled out a water flask and walked over to me, I'd never drink from an enemy's flask.

Bellamy put the flask to my mouth, when I pulled my face away he sighed and took a sip himself to show me it was safe. I still didn't trust it.

I took a big sip, and once he pulled it away I spit the water back into his face. He pursed his lips, seemingly trying to keep his anger down. I'd never be this man's peace.

"A bath would do you good, ripa." Murderer. Even without a bath, his scent was.. likable.

He scoffed amusingly, "That's funny coming from you, grounder."

Bellamy stood up, wiping away the water with his hand and turning his back towards me.

"What do you want from me?" He continued, grabbing a chair and sitting it close in front of me.

I refused to answer, I only stared at him with anger.

"I have all day, princess." He spoke, leaning back in the chair and pulling out a wrapped ration from his pocket. He was going to eat in front of me, what kind of torture method was this? And princess? Who does Bellamy think he is?

A few hours had passed since then and I really had to go. I'd been holding it in for hours but I was at my limit. Bellamy was still staring at me through it all, he could tell I was starting to get uneasy.

"I need to go..." I let out in a barely audible whisper, quickly regaining his attention.

"What was that?"

"I need to go."

The dots seemed to connect in his mind and he nodded, getting up ready to let my wrists free.

"Tell me your name first," Bellamy demanded.

Are you serious? Of course, he would stoop this low.

"y/n," I spoke with a sigh, I had no other choice but to give in. And with a nod, he freed me- well, for the most part, one of my hands was still attached to a seatbelt, which he was holding.

Bellamy led me out of the dropship and to the side, god, this was so embarrassing.

"Can you at least turn around?" I questioned, my voice wavering for the first time since I met him. So much for not being intimidated.

With a silent nod he turned to the side and I did my business, a real gentleman, pistol-whipping me, and tying me up.

Though I had no room to speak.

Day four

I was back on the ladder, and Bellamy was in his now usual spot. Right in front of me. I hadn't eaten in two days, he knew this. And he used it against me.

"Now, princess, why were you following me?" Bellamy questioned, waving a piece of fish in his hand, like I was some dog he was rewarding for good behavior.

Was he trying to train me?

I had come to the conclusion I either answer the question or die of starvation. I already failed the mission, I could never return to Azgeda or Polis. I couldn't face what was waiting for me.

"I was hired to kill you." I flatly state, eyeing the fish and practically drooling over it.

Bellamy seemed satisfied with this answer and handed me the piece with a small nod, which I quickly scarfed down. I watched him pull another from the little silver bag.

He really was training me.

"Why didn't you? You've been following me for a few days, and had plenty of chances."

I thought about my answer for a few seconds, "You were intriguing. You didn't act like how they described."

He only smiled at this, for reasons I couldn't comprehend. But I got another piece of fish so I didn't really care.

"Well, until you pistolwhipped me," I added in between bites. His smile slowly faded.

"Sorry about that, I didn't wanna kill you."

"Cause you needed answers?"

He hesitated.

"Yeah."

Day five - smut

The isolation had started to get to me, Bellamy being the only person I could see, and I started to notice more things about him. The way his back muscles would flex when he changed clothes. How defined his arms were and how defined his entire body was.

I cursed myself for having these thoughts about Bellamy, I was his prisoner, and I should be scared for my life.

It was particularly hot this morning, so Bellamy decided the best option was to be shirtless. All. Day.

His chest was well shaven surprisingly, and his pants sagged low, low enough to see his V line. That only brought worse thoughts. Thoughts I couldn't suppress.

He hadn't asked me any questions since I've awoken, I assume he's given up and doesn't need me anymore.

"Like the view?" He asks, snapping me out of my trance, how long had he known I was staring?

His gaze on me was intense. He knew I wouldn't answer his question so he only stepped closer and closer, leaning down when he got close enough to me.

"Keep looking pretty for me, yeah princess?" He spoke, his voice becoming husky.

A bright red tint lined my face at his words. Nobody had ever spoken to me in that way. I couldn't reply, too filled with nerves to form a comprehensible sentence, all I could do was stare at the handsome man before me and hope he didn't notice how vulnerable he made me.

Bellamy seemed to get an idea, with a smirk he stood up and sat back in the chair.

Leaning back he began unbuckling his belt, pushing his pants just below his bulge. I was more turned on than I'd ever been. Was he really going to do what I think he's gonna do? Now this is torture. Not being able to touch him.

Bellamy started palming himself through his boxers, letting little grunts slip past his mouth, meanwhile maintaining full eye contact with me- though my eyes were focused on his hands. I wanted so desperately for that to be my hands touching him, my hands making him feel good.

A few seconds passed before he pulled his boxers down just enough to reveal his entire cock, causing me to clench my thighs together tightly; craving any friction I could get. I now only realized the shirt I was wearing still had his scent on it, it was intoxicating.

He started stroking himself slowly, leaning his head back in pleasure. I needed him.

"Bellamy," I spoke, my voice laced with lust and need, my entire body feeling warm. His name sounded so good coming from my mouth. Bellamy's eyes locked back with mine as his pace quickened.

"Princess," His voice sounded breathy. The nickname did no help in calming me down. I wasn't sure what to say next.

Bellamy stood up and walked closer to me.

"On your knees." He demanded, to which I quickly obliged, finally getting what I wanted. I got to my knees and looked up at him, his cock resting on my rose-tinted cheek while his hand caressed my other cheek, moving down to my mouth and running his thumb along my lower lip; asking for entrance.

Opening my mouth I felt his thumb explore it, pressing softly against my tongue, all the while maintaining eye contact with me.

"So good for me." Bellamy praised before tapping his tip against my tongue, the taste being surprisingly good given the limited resources. He slowly inserted his cock into my mouth, releasing a loud groan of pleasure once he hit the back of my throat, the warmth feeling amazing against his dick.

His hand instinctively grabbed ahold of my hair, holding my head in place as he started throat fucking me. I began breathing through my nose and using my tongue to feel against his shaft. Bellamy's moans only grew louder and his breathing became erratic.

My mouth was doing this to him, I was making him feel so good.

"Just like that." He whispered between moans, noticing the tears that began to coat my cheeks.

His free hand gripped the ladder steps above my head. The hand on my hair gripped tighter than before, I could tell he was close.

His tip hit the back of my throat relentlessly, I was sure I'd have trouble speaking after this, but its be so worth it. I could feel his cock twitch in my mouth, his thrust slowly becoming sloppy.

"Doing so good, princess, so good, so fucking good."

My throat began to hurt from the abuse of his dick, and with one final deep thrust, I felt his warm cum fill my throat, forcing me to swallow every drop of the salty substance. Once he was sure he was done Bellamy pulled out, leaving my mouth feeling empty, missing the feeling of his cock. He was covered in sweat and I was covered in tears, but in this moment he never looked sexier.

I felt my hands drop to my sides, was he letting me free?

"Let's get cleaned up." He spoke, dropping the seat belt completely and helping me up. I stumbled a bit but used him as support. I was free but I didn't want to run.

In this moment nothing else mattered but him.

◜♡﹒﹒𝐫𝐞𝐪𝐮𝐞𝐬𝐭﹒𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭﹒𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭

[ijustthinkhesneat]

I feel compelled to expand upon the previous fae/folklore! Batboys headcanons:

-Bruce is just a straight up normal human. I think this provides a great opportunity for angst because unlike his immortal? children Bruce does age and it terrifies them. And Bruce is young he’s in his early 30s but like his knees will crack a little or his back is slightly stiff after a bad patrol and it just sends them into a spiral because they cannot fathom their dad not being around forever. I can definitely imagine them trying to strong arm Bruce into becoming some flavor of unaging. You could go super dark or just more generally emotional angst but damn the possibilities.

-Cass is giving me shadow person. Very cryptid of her. I’m not sure that I have a clear backstory for her worked out yet. Either magic gone wrong or she’s another flavor of undead like Jason and Tim. I like to imagine she just hovers over people at night to be creepy.

-Originally I wanted to say Duke was a Will-o-the-wisp. But I’m not really sure it fits, especially since he’s primarily active during the day. Then it hit me. Mothman. My lamplight boy is a moth creature. I like the idea of him hiding his little antenna under a beany and wearing sunglasses. The wings would be difficult. But my boy is creative.

- I think Steph and Barbara are also human like Bruce they just are extra bad ass.

-Coming back to life as a magical creature warps peoples memories and emotions from both the trauma and changing into something not human. Tim is significantly less effected than Jason, at least outwardly, because he was only a toddler when he died so he didn’t have many memories or experiences to draw from, but Jason was super volatile. His memories surrounding Willis became even more dark while his memories of his mother sort of glossed over her absentee parenting and drug use. Jason can’t help but struggle with associating the negative learned experience he had with his first paternal figure with Bruce. Jason ends up going to live with Talia for a while because he doesn’t want to feel that way about his dad anymore.

-Basically I think Jason, at least mentally, is the most human of Bruce’s kids besides Damian because he actually lived a life as a human, where as Tim changed so young that he doesn’t really know how to be anything but his extremely disturbing self.

-I think Gotham just has major ‘I do not see it’ energy. Like The Batfamily? Demons from hell. The Wayne’s? Hot neurodivergent people. Did you see Dick Grayson unhinge his jaw like a fucking snake at a gala? No you didn’t he just has a really big smile. Jason Todd??? Has scales??? Nope actually he just developed early onset Eczema and he’s really self conscious about it how dare you! Tim Drake sucking the blood of the himbo blonde boy? Everyone knows Tim and Bernard are total freaks. Cassandra Cain is your sleep paralysis demon? Honestly fair.

-It’s totally a coincidence that strange misfortune befalls anyone who threatens the Wayne’s!

-Clark is Bruce’s favorite man to sleep on so he gets a pass. I don’t know why but a midwestern spin on the story of princess kaguya lives in my head rent free. Like Martha Kent is just shucking corn and then boom baby in the corn. We call that children of the corn. I still love to imagine him being like so perfect that it’s high key alien, but his little sharp nails and fangies! Maybe even slightly pointy ears. And like Clark fully thinks he is human, like his parents don’t tell him humans can’t fly until he’s in kindergarten, and even then they just tell him he is special and learned super fast and shouldn’t embarrass the other kids and Clark is such a Good BoyTM that he just never uses his powers in public cause he doesn’t want to make anyone uncomfortable. Like bro doesn’t learn he is adopted until he is about to go to college, he is just straight up clueless.

-Clark learns Dick is a Fae creature when Batman brings Robin to the Watchtower cause he couldn’t get a baby sitter and Alfred doing some spooky shit like dusting the mausoleum. Like Batman just slinking around but there is this super colorful child with him. And then Dick turns and smiles and it’s just so wrong, like his mouth just stretching his face like some horror movie shit. Clark almost shots himself cause like what the fuck. Bruce told Dick to just ‘be himself’ so like he just thinks he’s being friendly. Despite being creepy as all hell Clark kinda thinks Dick is super adorable. Like was he spider crawling around the floor with all his limbs bent the wrong way while Bruce and Clark were talking? Yeah but then he just tugged on Bruce’s cape to ask for a juice box, like that’s a baby.

-Jason freaked him out in a different way. Since Jason is undead he doesn’t have a heartbeat and doesn’t need to breath so when he isn’t moving he makes literally zero noise. When he first met Clark he was just watching him from around corners and behind stair banisters and Clark was convinced he was losing his mind and hallucinating the kid from the Grudge. Then Bruce is just like “Oh you met Jason! He’s so sweet, just a little shy. He’s my second oldest! I think he likes you though.” And then a little grey blue slightly webbed hand just reaches around the corner to give a little wave and boom Clark would kill for him.

-Tim is similar in that Clark has trouble pinpointing his location because of a lack of normal bodily functions, but Tim has no idea what a boundary is. So like at first he’s a shy little toddler and then that night he’s crawling all over Clark and pranking him nonstop.

-Damian is a baby but like Clark looked in his eyes and just felt like this infant could see his past present and future and was judging him heavily. Clark was relieved cause at least he had a heartbeat.

-Cass lives to fuck with Clark. She’s Jason’s age but not only has no heartbeat and doesn’t breath, when she is in shadow form he can’t see her with X-ray vision. She can literally make herself undetectable to Superman. He learns this one night sleeping in a guest room at the manor. He gets the feeling he is being watched but can’t find anyone. Then right when he relaxes her arm shoots out from the darkness under his bed and grabs his leg. Clark screams so loud it cracks the window. And then just nearly silent muffled laughter as the arm retreats into the darkness. He X-Ray visions but nothing is there. He demands to stay in Bruce’s room after that. Bruce is just like “Oh that was just Cass. She likes playing practical jokes, she is my little princess!”

[ambriel-angstwitch]

Batman Hush Thoughts Part 2

(Batman 611-612)

It’s sort of funny to see little Bruce so in awe of and excited to see Green Lantern when now he doesn’t get along very well with Green Lantern

I feel like not being in Gotham should make them safer actually.

They spent the whole time looking for a hero but soon they would be faced with what turned Bruce into a hero.

It’s still so sad that they drifted apart because they look like such good friends in all the flash backs.

How dare you assume it’s a girl Tommy? What if it was a boy Tommy? (I mean it’s not this time but it could be)

I love how his only complaint about his wife and best friend flirting with eachother is that it’s not appropriate office behavior.

Like guys flirt some other time. PDA is not ok

(Also another incident of Bruce having chemistry with literally everyone)

I love how well they know eachother

(Also refer to what I said about Bruce having chemistry with everyone)

Ahh! I’m going to cry. I love Batman’s self critical thoughts though they make me sad.

But it makes me happy to see the reverence he has for Superman even if his goodness is exploited as a weakness. They have so much respect for eachother

I love how Batman is just a shadow man in this panel.

I love how his entire plan rests on the pure goodness of Superman which he has no doubt in (though Catwoman could catch Lois if things went south)

I love that Superman’s desire not to hurt Batman is strong enough that he can hold back despite Ivy’s orders.

Love the glance between Bruce and Selina and the immediate agreement. It’s so cute

Why the … before friends? Why did you hesitate on friends Bruce?

I love their little nicknames for eachother.

I love the sheer trust that Clark shows for Bruce giving him a weapon to hurt him

< Prev Next >

[sicariodechinchulines]

Damijon headcanon: Dami doesn't flirt, he COURTS.

•We tend to forgot WHERE and HOW Damian was raised. He just doesn't get the concept "Highschool sweetheart". when he first mentioned that, they were at a gala.

"-Im not interested on playdates, that's a waste of time.-" and they nodded because that's SOOO him, but then... "-If someone is interested on my being and dare to ask for my hand, I expect them to be ready for marriage. If not, then is just to be mean a ephemeral game that I won't even bother to remember, they shouldn't either."

Unnecessary to say that reporters we're so fucking excited with that response, so much that they didn't notice Dick Grayson hanging from a chandelier.

• and yes, he had a girlfriend before, even shared some kisses with other ladies and acted like a gentleman for them, but the truth is: he didn't take them seriously.

• Dami was ready for living alone and single, that's not the big deal, but Jon appeared again, and things started to get weird... in an amusing and warming way. Jon was now a mature good looking man, strong and good-natured as always. The little naive and childish boy was gone, and now was a man; a man worthy of his attention, in any areas.

• Without saying ANYTHING about his feels, he started to court Jon in the way he learned was appropriate, the problem is: Jon Kent is not a lady.

AND IS NEITHER SINGLE.

• Flowers, luxurious gifts and expensive jewelry. People started to suspect if Jon became some type of sugar baby for Damian, but when is questioned, Jon unsuspecting, answer "I don't know, rich people are weird"

• yes, people, Damian does HOLD the doors open for Jon, while ignoring the people behind, usually ending on them smashing their faces with the door.

• They rarely travel on cars, but when they do, Dami open the door for him; the bats are BEWILDERED by that.

• Needless to say that Jay DOES want to beat the shit out of him. (I don't blame him, if a sort of Arabic prince- heir of one of the biggest fortune in the world- a fucking Robin is trying to conquer MY boyfriend, I would love to beat the shit out of him too.)

Even if he's mad at him, don't see the point on competing with a child, because after all he's not even 15.

• Everyone knows that this boy is weird in SOOO many ways, but waiting 4 years until the object of your courtship is legally able to touch you, is little to much... even for Superman, who lost his virginity in his late twenties.

• Clark never say anything about that matter, first because he doesn't want to feed rumors, and second..

Because if he ADMIT that he would be okay with Damian marrying his son, Batman will KILL HIM.

•Even if he is worried about the future that Damian and Jon hold as best friends or partners, he can't denied that Damian devotion to Jon is cute.

Sorry but Clark is a hopeless romantic who loves his wife DEEPLY

(and he doesn't like Jay at all, he doesn't knows him as much he would like, neither is happy with the amount of info about his son that is on internet now thanks to jay's activism... but this ray of sunshine don't talk about that because, wHAT IF HE IS BEING HOMOPHOBIC OR SOMETHING?? Don't want to stress his boy with that.)

• after the SHOW Damian Wayne gave at that gala talking about his expectations on a partner and the PROPER way of courtship, the rumors about the younger Wayne being a heartbreaker like his father were over. NOW, they love to talk about how amazing and romantic Damian would be as a boyfriend.

When in an interview, a reporter mentioned Tim Drake-Wayne the titular "The teens dream: A prince like Damian Wayne. His thoughts about dating and how court a lady" he dissociated for 1 whole minute.

• the worst-best come now. Still hanging from that titular a journalist did DARE to ask about PRE-MARITAL SEX. (yes, Bruce demanded that journalist, yes, Bruce won.)

"- Isn't obvious? I'm against it, at least for myself. I don't find shame on waiting the proper person to lost your virginity with... even if I fall in love with SOMEONE who isn't virgin anymore, I'll wait anyway."

And yes, that was a hint for Jon. Jon didn't get it, but the press did.

It was funny how teen boys were so spiteful towards him and how teen girls were so delighted. Damian set the bar so high for Gotham boys.

• even with all the gifts and flowers and food, Jon is the ONLY ONE who don't notice. His mother did, his father did, Batman, Redhood, RedRobin and Nightwing DID, even StARFIRE AND THAT'S A LOT. a night after a mission she just said "Correct me if I'm wrong... but the little Robin is courting Superman according his culture standards, isn't?" And the whole Bat Boys just stared.

"That's adorable... a little gentleman!"

• They usually cuddle. It was hard for Jon getting used to it after YEARS gone, but Damian was weirdly okay with it, even pleased Jon can say.

But there was something unsettling. He don't cuddle him as before, instead he do it in a way that makes Jon feel incredibly conscious about himself, but safe anyway.

Damian does it on purpose, holding Jon head close to his chest when they are on the couch, caressing the side of Jon's jaw and lightly touching his temple.

If Jon is being lucky and Damian too tired, he will press his nose against his curls and close his eyes, answering anything with a lazy "mmh"

• Bruce is worried. He's not Clark, he's not tHAT optimistic. He knows his son and how unhinged and dangerous he can be, and see this said devotion as a time bomb. What if Jon is not that good??? Or Damian manage to CONQUER the teen's heart and decide to guide him into a darker path???? Jon probed that he can DIE for him in most of one occasion, Damian is starting to act the same and is unsettling.

Sorry if isn't readable, my mother language is Spanish and i learned English from comics, translator and weirdly poetic AO3 p0rn. If you're that kind, please point out my mistakes or care to give me an advice so I can better my grammar, ty so much!!!!

[crimsonxe]

I'm late but spoilers below the cut:

Always love and gotta admit to having a weak spot to the whole "persona A is hit with a forgetting thing (tech or magic) to not remember person B then the feelings for them are so strong it pulls the memories back cause our souls themselves are connected that much." idea.

Loved Lois and Clark breaking through the simulation field as the super-couple

Loved the Lois gets to be a superwoman because in Clark's eyes that's what she is. Like fuuuuuuuuck you know that'll get under the skin of the chuds cause they'll bitch about Clark being made a beta or whatever bullshit. Cause how dare a dude actually value the strength of his partner instead of putting himself as the center of the universe and need to assert his strength over them.

[justmenoworries]

Watching Justice League X RWBY (both parts) is such an amazing experience because you can't help but burst out laughing at seeing how incredibly insecure RT is about having RWBY stand next to DC characters.

They want to be acknowledged as DC's equal so bad, it's hilarious.

The DC characters are constantly made into jokes or just flat-out incompetent, just so a RWBY character can swoop in at the last second to save them or give them a heroic speech. No DC character can ever have anything cool for themselves, it needs to be undermined or undercut by someone from Remnant. Diana and Bruce have to lose to Blake and Weiss respectively because we need to establish how superior Team RWBY is in combat to these actual adults who have been wiping the floor with supervillains before Blake and Weiss were even a thing. Clark has to be put in his place by Ruby and Yang and isn't allowed to be leader because what else were we gonna do here? Acknowledge that Ruby's own leadership skills are severely lacking and have her learn from a fellow symbol of hope? Pfft, naah.

The RWBY characters have an almost pathological need to make fun of the DC heroes' aliases and no one points out the inherent hypocrisy there for Reasons. Like, how are you gonna make fun of names like "Batman" and "Superman" when y'all's team names are just edgy alphabet soup??? And your given names are shit like Raven Blessed Raven, White Snow or Sunshine Dragon (in languages from countries that don't even exist in your world)????

And the bootlicking, holy shit, the constant bootlicking.

Bruce is so completely fucking awed by the mere existence of Weiss and Yang he actually thinks about abandoning Gotham for Remnant, because that's not completely nonsensical and out of character at all. Diana is suddenly a callous jerk who dismisses the other Leaguers for not being "warriors" and connects more to Team RWBY because they, like her, are "warriors" (Diana, did the matrix glitch your brain and make you forget the literal fucking years the Justice League have fought by your side???). Vic is super into Nora because we needed to have a dick-measuring contest between him and Ren for Reasons. Clark needs to take a backseat to Ruby as leader because if anyone but Ruby "Power of the Special" Rose got to lead the group, RWBY stans would probably suffer an aneurysm. Oh and Jessica has insecurity issues and has to be given a peptalk from fucking Jaune of all characters!! (Oh, and she's also been white-washed because RT gotta do an RT.)

When someone from the DC universe does something cool? They immediately get upstaged or humiliated for daring to be characters in a RWBY world.

When someone from Remnant does something even mildly impressive? Non-stop praise, tongue-lashing and kowtowing from the DC characters.

And if you think this situation gets reversed in part 2, where the RWBY characters go to the DC universe, turning them into the fishes out of water?

You get to eat shit.

Because the premise to both parts is basically, "The Justice League cannot handle whatever messed up shit the bad guys are throwing at them and so they seek help from the amazing, strong, powerful, superior, magnificient, lauded, divine Team RWBY".

Part 1? Justice League gets trapped in the matrix with Team RWBY and since the simulation is of Remnant, the JL has to defer to the Remnant characters

Part 2? Grimm show up on the DC Earth and despite being back to full power the Justice League still can't handle them, so they call in Team RWBY.

Yeah.

The point of a crossover like this is to show the strength of both casts and how well they play off of each other.

But RT is so fucking insecure over Team RWBY standing next to actual heroes they couldn't help themselves.

It would be funny if it weren't so sad.

[whywoulditho]

ough... sorry for jumping in when you said you're still reading stuff, i hope this doesn't come off annoying or anything! but that thing the prev anon said about timkon is... a WILD take.

tim wasn't trying to "replace" kon, he was having a grief-induced mental health spiral and was doing anything and everything to get a chance of getting his best friend back. (the "resurrection of ra's al ghul" event goes over this too - tim and dick have a short fight that ends in tim crying in dick's arms because tim was tempted to use a lazarus pit to try and bring back his dad, steph brown, and/or kon.) it's an unhealthy coping mechanism he exhibits during a period of his life where he's experienced several catastrophic losses back to back, and he's coping poorly. moreover he literally apologized to kon for trying to clone him in adventure comics (2009) #3.

also saying that kon is created as a replacement for superman is true, but acting like he never has an established character outside of "replacement for superman" or that other characters treat him as just a replacement superman, is not. in world's finest three (tim and kon's first meeting) we literally see tim initially turn to kon for backup with metallo, a superman villain, and at first he's dismayed that kon doesn't have all of superman's abilities, but over the course of the two issues, he admires kon's use of his ttk and they establish a mutual respect with each other (they both save each other's lives at the end).

and generally, kon & clark have a very positive relationship in postcrisis comics (aka the continuity that the cloning stuff with tim happens in) - if you want to see more of it, i'd rec "adventures of superman" #506 and superboy (1994) #59 and #70. kon definitely has plenty of issues, but his identity and relationship to superman aren't really the ones in question. (although i'll admit there is the caveat that kon's [lack of] superman-related identity issues is kind of soft retconned in teen titans (2003), which is where the lex luthor retcon is introduced - fun fact, luthor has nothing to do with kon initially!)

this got long i'm SO sorry - it just gets my goat when people tell straight up lies about comics to people who are just getting into reading comics 😭😭 i hope i didn't come off aggressive bc thats def not my intention but i'm sorry if i did!! and i hope you enjoy your comic journey and have fun with it overall!!!

do NOT apologize! i really appreciate this!!

i have a couple more people on my inbox yelling things like "how dare you even entertain the thought of them together!!!" i wasnt expecting to see so much passion on this subject when i first talked about it but it seems like DC comics fans have very strong opinions about that pairing hahaa

as i said in my previous reply to that anon, i really need to do my own reading before i form an opinion on the ship but your reflections seem very fair and i really appreciate the comic recommendations! and honestly, the whole reason i was interested in timkon was that their relationship seemed very complicated, and therefore very angsty, which is what i live for. so i do really understand why some people like it and some hate the idea of it. from what i've seen so far.... i like it. but i can't really speak on whether or not it is compatible with the canon dynamic of the characters. does that make sense?

also like on another note. HOW do you guys give such specific references when talking about these things?? 😭 DC universe seems HUGE and i have no clue where to start and then i see people giving like the exact issue number of events and stuff and i'm like.....HOW?? and also like. teach me. guide me. i'm lost 😭 HQJSKFKCJDJ

[paullovescomics]

Absolute Superman #1 & 2

I finally got to read #1 when it came to the app, and I got #2 in print. (I think that 3rd printing of #1 comes out next week.) Just like with Batman and Wonder Woman, I really like what they've done with Absolute Superman. The flashbacks to his parents on Krypton are very good. Finally Lara feels like an equal to Jor. Her wanting to be an astronaut makes that backstory feel more full and more clear. The Els living in the Kryptonian equivalent of rural Kansas is a nice touch. The Wonder Woman and Batman Absolute series are also doing this type of storytelling, but since here we have two adults who are actively discovering and planning things, it feels like the background is deeper here.

I'm not sure if all the references to the fantastical natural features of Krypton are pulled directly from Silver Age stories, but they're certainly the types of things you see on Krypton in that era (crystal forests and all that). The red desert also makes me think of Mars, and one of the influences on the creation of Superman was the John Carter of Mars stories. Again, I can't remember if Krypton had a red desert before, but it's a nice detail regardless of when it was introduced.

Having a stronger memory of Krypton, and a direct link via the suit feels like one of the bigger changes, and it works for me. Usually, Clark rediscovers his Kryptonian culture as he ages. Often it's in early adulthood, and mirrors the experience that adopted children have when they learn about their birth parents. It can also be like the experience of many in the US (and presumably other places with lots of immigration) who come from culturally integrated families, but discover their families' pre-immigration cultures later in life. If we're still working with a US immigrant metaphor, here he's more like not only a first generation immigrant, but one who migrated as a young adult, with his worldview already formed. So far, this seems to position his benevolent nature less as a result of an idealized American morality, and more as a contrast to the very ugly way our (still mostly US-led) world works, despite whatever values we claim to possess. Maybe this is why Lara and Jor seem more like Ma and Pa Kent. It's a fairly daring change, based on how easily certain factions go nuts these days, but I think it's more appropriate to the times we live in. The "aw shucks, we're just a bunch of simple, good-hearted, truth and justice loving folk" version of Americana rings hollow in this era of naked hated and aggression. The Darkseid-infected Absolute universe reflects our own more accurately at this moment.

The re-imagining of the Peacemaker as a group of corporate security goons also works very well in this context. It also vibes with the way the character was portrayed in the Suicide Squad movie: loyal to authority over any deeper consideration of right and wrong. (I did not watch the tv show; the movie convinced me that I didn't want to see him again.)

Lois Lane becoming an agent of this Lazarus corporation feels like the darkest twist so far. It resonates with the mainstream version of the character, since her father is a general -- in a different world, she follows him into a (para)military life. That sequence in #2 where we learn that she hates to write reports shows us how far the "dark" influence in this universe diverts these characters from their usual paths, but the fact that she enjoys writing about Superman shows how much the heroes can still fight back.

I like the suit talking to Kal-el, though I won't be surprised if that goes away after another arc or two. The nano-cloud cape is a cool idea. It has some neat practical uses, and it lets you vary the character's appearance easily: no cape for gritty action, big swooping cape for dramatic, inspirational scenes. Altogether, this is another very strong series in the Absolute line.

[vodrae]

Inspired by everything @daminette-56 has done for humanity (daminette and al-ghul fandom)

This, ladies and gentlemen, is why Dick needed years of meditation to stand Talia :

Bruce is driving back from Metropolis, him and Dick just had dinner with Clark, he was still single at the moment. Bruce had a appointement, there, so even if Clark can fly to the manor at speedlight, it was not necessary this time.

B : You behaved real good. I'm proud of you, chum.

Dick is flexing his muscles in the mirror and says

D: He said he became this strong because his mom fed him a lot of meat when he was young ! I'm gonna do the same.

B: It was a joke, chum. He gets his strenght from the sunlight.

D: I'm gonna eat meat outside.

Bruce laughs and the conversation stops there.

The day after, Bruce don't go to bed after patrol, a few hours later, a very pretty asian lady comes in, she has several luggaes with her.

B: Chum! Come say, hello! This is Talia my...oldest friend from my training years.

T: What beautiful boy you have! What is you name, sweetheart ?

D: Dick. I'm Dick. Nice to meet you.

T: Why are you blaming yourself like that ? Do we need a pediatrician ?

B: No, no! It's a old fashioned way to say Richard. His parents were immigrants and wanted him to have a local name.

T: I see. I'm so glad to meet my beloved's child. We're going to be great friends!

Day after day Dick is constantly chewing on meat. Meatloaf, sandwiches, beef jerky. One day Talia as the audacity to say.

T: Hey sweetie, I made vegetables from my country, do you want to taste it ?

How dare she ?

Later, when Dick is trying to fullfilled himself with boeuf bourguignon, she's even has the audacity to say.

T : If you are full we can put it in the freezer for later, there is more than enough for next time.

D: You don’t want me to be superman !

T: Wha-

D: You're trying to stop me to become strong !

T: No I-

D: Good night!

And he ran dramatically to his room.

This came out way longer that I thout it would be.

[reallygroovyninja]

I'm so emotional after reading Lexa comforting Clarke about her size 🥺 It was such a lovely and tender moment between them. Would you consider writing their first time being intimate and how they navigate Clarke's insecurity together?

Clarke stood in front of the mirror, her reflection staring back at her with uncertainty. Her relationship with Lexa had been evolving rapidly. They had passed the point of casual dating; they were on the cusp of consummating their relationship. Clarke knew it. She could feel it in the way Lexa's eyes lingered on her, in the way their touches became more daring and their kisses more passionate.

But with that realization came a growing anxiety that gnawed at Clarke's confidence. Lexa was everything she had ever wanted—intelligent, compassionate, strong—and the thought of disappointing her in any way was unbearable. Clarke's worries revolved around a singular, deeply personal issue: her size. She wasn't as well-endowed as other alphas, and the fear that Lexa, as an omega, might value that particular trait was starting to consume her thoughts.

Clarke's hands clenched the edge of the sink, her knuckles turning white. She had always been confident, secure in her abilities and her identity. But this—this was different. This was about meeting Lexa's expectations, about being enough for the omega she was falling for.

"Get a grip, Griffin," she muttered to herself. "Lexa loves you for who you are, not just what you have."

Still, the doubt lingered. She remembered overhearing conversations between omegas over the years, snippets of their desires and preferences. The size of an alpha's penis was often discussed with a mix of awe and expectation. Clarke had never paid much attention then, but now those words echoed in her mind, amplifying her insecurities.

Tonight, she was heading to Lexa's place to watch a movie. It was a classic setup, the kind that had become a cliché in the dating world. Clarke knew what that implied, and the thought both excited and terrified her.

She glanced at her reflection in the mirror again, her thoughts a tangled mess of anxiety. The evening had been planned casually—Lexa had suggested a movie night, and Clarke had eagerly agreed. But as the time to leave approached, Clarke's mind couldn't stop racing.

"What if she rejects me?" Clarke muttered to herself, her eyes dropping to her reflection below her waist.

Clarke's hands shook slightly as she ran them through her hair, trying to steady her nerves. She had always been confident in other areas of her life, but this—this was deeply personal. The thought of not measuring up in this way was almost unbearable.

"Just be yourself," she told her reflection firmly. "Lexa loves you for you, not for what's in your pants."

Still, as Clarke grabbed her jacket and headed out the door, the doubts lingered. The drive to Lexa's apartment felt longer than usual, each mile giving her more time to worry. By the time she arrived, her heart was pounding.

She sat in her parked car for several minutes, trying to calm her racing thoughts and gather the courage to face whatever awaited her inside. With a deep breath, she finally stepped out of the vehicle, the cool evening air a stark contrast to the warmth of her anxiety.

Clarke stood in front of Lexa's apartment door, she took a deep breath, trying to steady her nerves, and knocked lightly. Within moments, the door swung open, and there stood Lexa, a radiant smile on her face. Clarke barely had time to say hello before Lexa's lips were on hers, the kiss far more passionate than their usual greeting.

Lexa's arms wrapped around Clarke, pulling her closer, and Clarke felt the intensity of the kiss deep in her core. This was different. There was a fire in Lexa's touch, a hunger that hadn't been there before. When they finally pulled apart, Clarke's breath was coming in short gasps, her heart racing even faster.

"Hi," Lexa whispered against her lips, her voice filled with warmth and desire.

"Hi," Clarke managed to reply, her own voice barely a whisper.

Lexa took her hand, leading her inside. The apartment felt different tonight, too. There was a certain intimacy in the air, a sense of anticipation that made Clarke's pulse quicken. They moved to the living room, but instead of settling on the couch as usual, Lexa pulled Clarke into another deep kiss, her hands roaming more boldly.

Clarke's mind was a whirlwind of emotions. The fear and anxiety she'd felt earlier were still there, but they were being overshadowed by the overwhelming desire she felt for Lexa. She knew, without a doubt, that this was the night they would sleep together. The realization both thrilled and terrified her.

Lexa pulled back slightly, looking into Clarke's eyes. "I've been looking forward to tonight all day," she confessed, her fingers tracing soft patterns on Clarke's arm.

"Me too," Clarke admitted, her voice shaky but sincere.

Lexa smiled, a look of pure adoration in her eyes. "Let's watch that movie," she suggested, though the way she said it made it clear that the movie was just a prelude to something much more.

They settled down on the couch, the glow of the TV casting a soft light across the room. Clarke's heart was still racing from the passionate greeting at the door. She tried to focus on the movie, but within moments, Lexa's hand began to rub up and down her thigh, the touch sending electric sparks through Clarke's body.

Clarke could feel her body reacting to Lexa's touch, her skin tingling with anticipation. Lexa's hand moved with a slow, deliberate rhythm, each stroke igniting a fire within her. Clarke's breath hitched, and she shifted slightly, trying to control her reactions. But with every pass of Lexa's hand, Clarke's mind started to wander back to her insecurities.

The fear of her penis size crept up on her again, mingling with the arousal Lexa was stirring. Clarke's throat tightened, her earlier confidence wavering. She knew Lexa loved her for who she was, but the doubt was persistent, gnawing at the edges of her mind.

Lexa's touch grew bolder, her fingers tracing patterns that made Clarke's pulse race even faster. Clarke turned her head to look at Lexa, finding those green eyes filled with desire. It was a look that both thrilled and terrified her. She needed to address her fears, but the words seemed stuck in her throat.

Before Clarke could say anything, Lexa moved in for a passionate kiss, her lips capturing Clarke's with a fervor that took her breath away.

The kiss was intense, all-consuming. Lexa's hand continued its slow exploration of Clarke's thigh, while her other hand cupped Clarke's cheek, holding her close. Clarke melted into the kiss, her fears momentarily forgotten in the heat of the moment. Lexa's lips were soft but insistent, coaxing a response from Clarke that was both instinctive and eager.

Clarke's hands found their way to Lexa's waist, pulling her closer as the kiss deepened. Lexa's tongue brushed against Clarke's, and a soft moan escaped her lips. The sound seemed to spur Lexa on, her hand moving higher up Clarke's thigh, dangerously close to where Clarke's insecurities lay.

As they finally pulled apart, both breathing heavily, Lexa rested her forehead against Clarke's. "I want you," Lexa whispered, her voice husky with desire. "All of you."

Before Clarke knew it, Lexa had shifted and was now straddling Clarke's lap, her legs on either side of Clarke's hips. The sudden movement took Clarke by surprise, but the feel of Lexa's body pressed so intimately against hers ignited a fire within her. Lexa's hands cupped Clarke's face, and she leaned in, capturing Clarke's lips in a passionate kiss.

The kiss was intense, filled with a passion that left Clarke breathless. Lexa's tongue teased and explored, coaxing a response from Clarke that was both instinctive and eager. Clarke's hands moved to Lexa's waist, holding her tightly as their lips moved in perfect sync.

Clarke could feel the heat radiating from Lexa's body, the weight of her straddling Clarke's lap adding to the growing arousal. Lexa's hands trailed down Clarke's neck, her fingers brushing against the sensitive skin and sending shivers down Clarke's spine. The world outside seemed to fade away, leaving just the two of them in this bubble of desire and need.

As the kiss deepened, Clarke felt her own hands moving almost of their own accord. One hand slid up Lexa's side, following the curve of her body until it found its way to Lexa's breast. Clarke hesitated for a moment, the soft, warmth under her palm making her heart race even faster. But Lexa's response—a soft, encouraging moan—gave her the confidence to continue.

Clarke's fingers gently stroked Lexa's breast, feeling the firmness beneath the fabric of her shirt. Lexa's breath hitched, and she pressed closer, her hips grinding slightly against Clarke's. The sensation sent a jolt of pleasure through Clarke, making her grip Lexa's waist tighter with her other hand.

Lexa broke the kiss, her lips trailing down Clarke's jaw to her neck. She nipped and kissed the sensitive skin there, her breath hot against Clarke's ear. "Clarke," she murmured, her voice a husky whisper, "I want you so much."

Clarke's own desire surged at Lexa's words. "I want you too," she whispered back, her voice trembling with emotion. She squeezed Lexa's breast gently, her thumb brushing over the peak through the fabric, eliciting another soft moan from Lexa.

Lexa's hips moved in slow, deliberate circles, each motion sending waves of pleasure through Clarke. The feeling of Lexa's body against hers, the sounds of their shared desire filling the room—it was almost overwhelming. Clarke's insecurities still lingered at the edges of her mind, but they were being steadily drowned out by the sheer intensity of their connection.

Lexa's lips found Clarke's again, kissing her deeply, passionately. Clarke responded with an equal hunger, her hand continuing its gentle exploration of Lexa's breast. Every touch, every kiss, seemed to bring them closer, building a tension that was almost unbearable.

Clarke was lost in the sensation of Lexa straddling her lap, their kisses growing more heated by the second. The feel of Lexa's breast under her hand, the softness and warmth, made Clarke's heart race. Lexa's hips moved in slow, deliberate circles, each motion sending waves of pleasure through Clarke.

Then, Clarke felt Lexa's hand begin to move down her body, tracing a path of heat from her chest to her stomach. The anticipation was electrifying, but as Lexa's fingers reached the button on Clarke's pants, a surge of anxiety shot through her. Lexa deftly popped the button open and slowly unzipped her pants. The sound of the zipper seemed to echo in the room, amplifying Clarke's suddenly heightened awareness.

Clarke froze up in the kiss, her breath catching in her throat. All her earlier fears and insecurities rushed back in a torrent. Her mind raced with thoughts of inadequacy, the fear of disappointing Lexa rearing its head once more.

Lexa immediately sensed the change in Clarke. She pulled back slightly, her eyes searching Clarke's face with concern. "Clarke?" she whispered, her voice gentle and soothing. "What's wrong?"

Clarke's heart pounded in her chest, her mouth suddenly dry. She took a shaky breath, trying to steady herself. "I… I'm just… nervous," she admitted, her voice barely above a whisper.

Lexa's hand stilled on Clarke's waistband, her other hand moving to cup Clarke's cheek. "Hey, it's okay," she said softly, her thumb brushing reassuringly against Clarke's skin. "We don't have to do anything you're not ready for."

Clarke closed her eyes for a moment, gathering her courage. She knew she needed to talk to Lexa about her fears, but it was so hard to find the right words. Finally, she opened her eyes, meeting Lexa's concerned gaze. "It's not that I don't want this," Clarke began, her voice trembling. "I do. But… I'm worried you might be disappointed when you see me."

Lexa's brow furrowed slightly, her concern deepening. "Disappointed? Clarke, why would I be disappointed?"

Clarke took a deep breath, deciding to lay her fears bare. "I'm not as well-endowed as other alphas," she said, her voice barely a whisper. "And I'm scared that you might be expecting something… more."

For a moment, there was silence. Clarke's heart felt like it was going to burst out of her chest. But then Lexa's expression softened, and she leaned in, pressing a tender kiss to Clarke's lips.

"Clarke," Lexa said gently, her eyes filled with love and understanding. "I care about you, not your size. What matters to me is how you make me feel and the connection we share. You're more than enough for me."

Clarke looked down at her crotch, her insecurities still swirling in her mind. She then looked back up into Lexa's eyes, trying to determine if Lexa was truly being sincere. The intensity of the moment made it hard for Clarke to fully believe the reassurances she desperately wanted to hear.

Lexa saw the doubt in Clarke's eyes, her heart aching at the sight of Clarke's vulnerability. She cupped Clarke's face gently, making sure Clarke's gaze stayed locked with hers.

"Clarke," Lexa said softly, her voice filled with tenderness and conviction. "I just want to love you. All of you. Nothing else matters to me."

Clarke searched Lexa's eyes, looking for any hint of doubt or insincerity. But all she saw was pure, unfiltered love. The warmth and honesty in Lexa's gaze made Clarke's heart swell with emotion.

Overwhelmed by the intensity of the moment, Clarke's racing heart seemed to slow and quicken at the same time as Lexa leaned in, closing the distance between them. Their lips met in a tender kiss, soft and reassuring, conveying all the words left unspoken between them.

When they pulled apart, Lexa whispered, "Let me show you how much you mean to me." With that, she moved off of Clarke and positioned herself between Clarke's legs. Lexa's hands found the waistband of Clarke's pants, her movements gentle and deliberate as she helped Clarke remove them. The increasing intimacy of their encounter sent a shiver of anticipation through Clarke's body.

Lexa then did the same with Clarke's underwear, her eyes never leaving Clarke's as she carefully pulled them down. When Lexa pulled down Clarke's underwear, Clarke's penis was starting to get erect. The vulnerability of the moment was overwhelming, but Lexa's touch was nothing but tender and loving.

"You're beautiful," Lexa said softly, her voice filled with genuine admiration. She leaned in closer, her breath warm against Clarke's skin. Clarke's heart pounded in her chest, the mixture of nerves and anticipation almost unbearable.

Without breaking eye contact, Lexa leaned in and took Clarke's member in her mouth, her movements slow and deliberate. Clarke gasped, her body reacting instinctively to the sensation. Lexa's mouth was warm and soft, her tongue skillfully teasing Clarke's sensitive skin.

Clarke's hands gripped the couch, her mind a whirlwind of pleasure and emotion. Lexa's touch was everything she needed—reassuring, loving, and full of desire. The doubts and insecurities that had plagued her moments before seemed to melt away, replaced by the overwhelming love and connection she felt with Lexa.

Lexa continued her gentle ministrations, her eyes flicking up to meet Clarke's every so often, ensuring she was giving Clarke exactly what she needed. Clarke's breath came in ragged gasps, her body trembling with the intensity of the moment.

"Lexa," Clarke whispered, her voice filled with emotion.

Lexa responded with a soft hum, the vibrations adding to Clarke's pleasure. Lost in the sensation of Lexa's mouth on her, each movement sent waves of ecstasy coursing through Clarke's body. Her mind was a whirlwind of emotions—love, desire, and a deep sense of connection. In this moment, Clarke felt completely and utterly cherished by the woman she adored.

As much as Clarke was enjoying the feel of Lexa's mouth on her, she wanted more. She wanted to be closer to Lexa, to make love to her and show her just how much she meant. The intensity of her feelings built until Clarke couldn't hold back any longer. She reached down, gently cupping Lexa's face and guiding her to look up.

"Lexa," Clarke breathed, her voice trembling with emotion. "I want to make love to you. Can we go to your bedroom?"

Lexa's eyes sparkled with affection and understanding. She slowly released Clarke, placing a soft kiss on Clarke's inner thigh before moving up. Lexa stood and offered her hand to Clarke, helping her up from the couch. Their fingers interlaced, and Clarke felt a surge of anticipation.

"Of course," Lexa whispered, her voice filled with tenderness. She led Clarke through the living room, down the hallway, and into her bedroom. The room was softly lit, the atmosphere intimate and inviting.

Clarke's heart raced as Lexa closed the door behind them. They stood for a moment, taking each other in. Lexa stepped closer, wrapping her arms around Clarke and pulling her into a deep, passionate kiss. Clarke's hands found their way to Lexa's back, pulling her even closer as their lips moved together in perfect harmony.

As they kissed, Lexa's hands moved to the hem of Clarke's shirt, slowly lifting it up and over her head. Clarke raised her arms to help, feeling a shiver of anticipation as the cool air touched her skin. Lexa's eyes roamed over Clarke's exposed body, filled with admiration and desire. She then reached behind Clarke, deftly unclasping her bra and sliding it off, revealing Clarke's breasts.

Clarke's breath hitched as Lexa's hands gently cupped her breasts, her thumbs brushing over the sensitive peaks. Lexa leaned in, placing soft kisses along Clarke's collarbone, trailing down to her chest. Clarke's hands found their way to the buttons of Lexa's shirt, her fingers trembling slightly as she began to undo them one by one.

Lexa shrugged off her shirt, and Clarke's hands moved to the waistband of Lexa's pants, unbuttoning and unzipping them. Lexa stepped out of her pants, standing before Clarke in just her underwear. Clarke paused to admire her, mesmerized by the beauty and strength of Lexa's form.

Lexa reached for Clarke's hand, guiding her to the bed. Before joining her, Lexa paused, her eyes locked with Clarke's as she slowly removed her underwear, letting them fall to the floor. Clarke's breath hitched at the sight, admiring the beauty of Lexa's fully revealed form.

They lay down together, their bodies pressed close. Clarke's hands roamed over Lexa's curves, feeling the warmth of her skin beneath her fingertips. She marveled at the strength and grace of the woman she loved, her heart overflowing with affection.

"I want you, Lexa," Clarke whispered, her voice filled with sincerity and passion.

"I want you too, Clarke," Lexa replied, her eyes shining with emotion.

As they lay entwined, their breathing heavy, Clarke pressed another lingering kiss to Lexa's lips. The heat between them was undeniable, and Clarke felt an intense need to bring Lexa as much pleasure as she had just experienced.

Clarke began to kiss her way down Lexa's body, her lips trailing over her neck and collarbone, her tongue leaving a path of heat along Lexa's skin. Lexa's breath hitched, her hands tangling in Clarke's hair as she encouraged her downward journey.

Clarke paused to lavish attention on Lexa's breasts, her tongue circling and teasing each nipple before taking one into her mouth. Lexa moaned softly, her back arching slightly off the bed. Clarke's hands continued their exploration, moving down Lexa's sides and over her hips.

Lexa's moans grew louder as Clarke kissed her way down her stomach, her lips brushing over the sensitive skin. Clarke could feel the tension building in Lexa's body, the anticipation in every touch.

When Clarke finally reached Lexa's core, she paused, looking up to meet Lexa's gaze. The desire and love in Lexa's eyes gave Clarke the confidence she needed. She leaned in, her tongue gently parting Lexa's folds, eliciting a sharp gasp from Lexa.

Clarke took her time, her tongue moving in slow, deliberate strokes, tasting and exploring every inch of Lexa. Lexa's hands tightened in Clarke's hair, her hips moving in response to the pleasure building within her.

"Clarke," Lexa breathed, her voice trembling with need.

Encouraged by Lexa's reactions, Clarke increased the pressure, her tongue finding Lexa's most sensitive spot and focusing on it with determined attention. Lexa's moans grew louder, her body trembling as she edged closer to release.

Clarke slid a finger inside Lexa, curling it to hit just the right spot while her tongue continued its relentless assault. Lexa cried out, her body arching off the bed as waves of pleasure crashed over her. Clarke felt Lexa's muscles tighten around her finger, the intensity of Lexa's orgasm evident in the tremors that ran through her body.

Lexa's cries of pleasure filled the room, her hands gripping Clarke's shoulders as she rode out the waves of her climax. Clarke continued her gentle ministrations, helping Lexa come down from the peak of her pleasure.

She kissed her way back up Lexa's body, savoring every inch of her warm, soft skin. As she reached Lexa's lips, she captured them in a passionate kiss, their tongues intertwining as their bodies pressed together.

Clarke positioned herself between Lexa's legs her erection pressing against Lexa's entrance. Pausing for a moment, Clarke met Lexa's gaze, searching for any sign of hesitation.

Lexa's gaze was filled with love and anticipation. She cupped Clarke's face with her hands, pulling her into another deep kiss. "I need you, Clarke," she whispered against her lips. "Please, make love to me."

Clarke's heart swelled with emotion. She slowly pushed forward, feeling the heat and tightness of Lexa envelop her. Lexa gasped, her nails digging gently into Clarke's shoulders as Clarke entered her fully.

"You feel so good inside me," Lexa murmured, her voice breathy and filled with pleasure.

Clarke's breath hitched at Lexa's words, the sensation of being inside her almost overwhelming. She began to move slowly, pulling out nearly all the way before thrusting back in with deliberate, measured strokes. Lexa's moans grew louder with each thrust, her hips meeting Clarke's rhythm, their bodies moving in perfect harmony.

They kissed passionately, their lips and tongues exploring each other with a newfound intensity. The connection they shared in this moment was unlike anything Clarke had ever experienced.

As Clarke's thrusts became more urgent, she felt herself approaching the edge. Wanting Lexa to join her at the peak of pleasure, she slid one hand between their bodies. Her fingers found Lexa's clit, rubbing in rhythm with her thrusts.

Lexa cried out, her body arching off the bed as the dual sensations drove her wild. Clarke could feel Lexa tightening around her, the pressure almost too much to bear. She increased the speed and intensity of her movements, each thrust and stroke bringing them both closer to the brink.

"Clarke," Lexa gasped, her voice a mixture of pleasure and desperation. "I'm so close."

"Me too," Clarke managed to reply, her own voice strained with the effort of holding back.

With one final thrust, Clarke felt herself tip over the edge. The waves of her orgasm crashed over her, her hips moving erratically as she came inside Lexa. At the same time, her fingers pressed firmly against Lexa's clit, sending Lexa into her own intense climax.

Lexa's cries of pleasure mingled with Clarke's, their bodies trembling and shuddering together as they rode out the waves of their orgasms. Clarke continued to move inside Lexa, prolonging the pleasure for both of them until they were both spent.

When the last tremors finally subsided, Clarke collapsed onto Lexa, their bodies slick with sweat and their hearts pounding in unison. She pulled out gently, rolling to the side and gathering Lexa into her arms. They lay there, tangled together, their breathing slowly returning to normal.

"Tonight was perfect." Lexa whispered, pressing a soft kiss to Clarke’s chest.

Clarke smiled, feeling an overwhelming sense of happiness. As they drifted off to sleep in each other's arms, she knew that this night was just the beginning of something beautiful and enduring.