#I know Clark has a bedroom it's just a joke

[murmeloni]

I need more fanboy Clark Kent in my life.

Like, he's seen Bruce Wayne interact with a child once and immediately fell in love with the guy. Now his bedroom walls are plastered with posters and he follows several social media accounts focused on capturing pictures of Bruce with kids and/or animals etc. He defends Bruce to anyone, no matter the antics he gets up to and it has become a bit of a running gag around the office.

Then, one day, Cat is out sick and someone jokingly suggests Clark should cover the gala in her stead, seeing as Bruce Wayne will be there and maybe this'll be Clark's shot to finally get his man? To everyone's surprise, Perry really does assign the gala coverage to Clark, who spends the days leading up to the event in a state somewhere between absolute panic and ultimate bliss.

But when the day finally arrives, Bruce doesn't show.

Of course Clark does his job and interviews everyone there (yes, even Lex Luthor) but a part of him spends all night waiting for Bruce to crash the party late, like he so often does.

Eventually, Clark gives up hope and it's shortly after that, that he stumbles upon one of the children dragged along to the event by their parents. Because apparently someone thought a charity gala was a good environment for an eight year old. The parents are nowhere in sight and the child is close to tears, so Clark makes it his mission to cheer the little girl up, regaling her with stories from his upbringing on a Kansas farm while he searches the crowd for her family.

With Clark thus occupied, he doesn't notice Bruce Wayne finally making his appearance for the night. But Bruce definitely notices him. The gentle giant who's all kind smiles and corny jokes... Until he finds the girl's parents. Uncaring of the fact that he's here on a job and that these people are richer than any one person should be and could easily sue him into oblivion, he takes them aside, fire in his eyes, and tears them a new one for losing track of their kid like this. Anything could have happened to her and maybe the readers of the Daily Planet would like to know about that? After all, how reliable and trustworthy could a company whose CEOs won't even look after their own daughter really be?

Bruce is immediately smitten. The passive-aggressive lecture and subtle threats - not to mention the broad shoulders and handsome face - are incredibly attractive to him and he wastes no time cornering the man afterwards.

Clark, who is so starstruck by the mere sight of Bruce coming towards him that he loses the ability to speak, nearly faints when Bruce just straight up shoves his tongue into his mouth. They end up in one of the coat rooms and Clark thinks that's it, just a one night stand. It sucks that he won't see Bruce again, but the night was amazing and at least he has the memory to treasure, right?

He thinks that right up until he gets to work the next day and two dozen red roses are waiting for him on his desk. There's a handwritten card nestled inbetween the petals and on it is the name of a restaurant along with a date and time. It's signed by Bruce.

And that is how Clark gets together with his celebrity crush.

[unclewaynemunson]

It's October when the autumn chill officially dawns over Hawkins. Wayne wakes up to fogged-up windows, and his bones protest loudly when he stretches to get up and make himself some warm coffee. It's too early in the year to turn on the heating; if they start that now, they'll be bankrupt before it's even January. So while the coffee is brewing, he shrugs off the old shirt he uses as a pajama, and puts on as many layers as he'll need to keep himself warm: first an undershirt, then a soft flannel, and then a faded brown sweater that's been sitting uselessly in his closet all through the summer. It's patched up at the elbows to conceal the holes that have fallen into it, but still warm and comfortable, which is all Wayne can really ask for.

'Ed, got coffee for ya!' he calls out when he's changed into his jeans and the coffee is almost ready.

Some muffled noises sounding vaguely like 'lemmesleeeeeep' emerge from the other side of the thin wall.

Wayne chuckles as he turns on the gas, deciding he might as well make scrambled eggs for breakfast; a thinly-veiled excuse to heat up the trailer by using the stove.

'And eggs in a minute!'

Another string of muffled sounds emerges from Eddie's bedroom, 'stoocold' being the only semi-decipherable one.

For a moment, Wayne feels guilty. He knows, deep down, that this is nothing more than his Eddie being dramatic. But that doesn't change his wish that he could simply turn on the heat without giving it a second thought and make Eddie's Sunday morning just slightly more comfortable. He doesn't care about the chill in his own bones, he's had worse. He doesn't care about the condensation on the windows, that is now changing into thick droplets that are gliding down to the windowsill, leaving traces of soot in their wake. He's not even sure if he'd ever want to live in a real, proper house. But the one thing he does want, is to get his nephew through the season warm and comfortable without having to count every penny.

Eddie finally emerges from his bedroom, with only his head peeking out of the blanket he has wrapped himself in, and a sleepy look in his eyes. The phone starts ringing just as Wayne greets him, and Eddie, who's closer to it, shuffles towards it.

Almost immediately after he picks up, his eyes shed their drowsy look and light up in a way that Wayne has come to know all too well, while his mouth curves into a wicked grin.

'No, sir, he's not here,' Eddie says into the phone, his eyes wide and innocent. 'When he didn't come home last night, I assumed he'd be spending the night with you. I guess he must have a secret lover we both don't know about.'

Wayne abruptly turns off the gas and barges towards Eddie, who barks out a laugh while he jumps back as far as the phone cord allows him.

'Just joking, Mr. Clarke, he is here!' he calls out in an annoyingly triumphed tone. 'And he can't wait to talk to you, here he is!'

Wayne playfully shoves Eddie against the wall as he takes the phone from him.

'Sorry for my menace of a nephew, Scott,' he says.

He hears a chuckle on the other side of the line, slightly distorted through the horn. It's as if his hand has a will of its own, clenching around the phone and pressing it almost painfully close to his ear; like he'll be able to catch the sound of Scott's laughter better if he could only press himself tighter to his phone.

'Luckily I'm used to middle schoolers, nothing I can't handle here.'

Wayne snorts and turns towards Eddie, who is now shamelessly staring at him from above his blanket-cocoon a few steps away from him.

'Scott says you should stop behavin' like a damn middle schooler,' he grumbles.

'Yep, that sounds exactly like something sweet Scott Clarke would say,' Eddie remarks, that devilish grin still plastered on his face.

'What can I do for ya, Scott?'

'Well, I just came downstairs for breakfast, and when I looked outside, I realized this is our first proper fall day.'

Wayne directs his gaze to the wet kitchen window. He hadn't even thought to look through the droplets on the glass; but now that he does, he realizes Scott is right. The trees around Forest Hills are definitely showing more yellow and orange than they did yesterday, and some patches of fog are still lingering a few feet above the wilted grass and muddy roads. The skies are a light shade of gray, telling Wayne that even though it'll be cold, it won't likely start raining anytime soon.

'I was wondering if you have any plans for today?' Scott's continues in his ear. 'We could go for a walk in the forest, admire the colors, see if we can find some cool mushrooms... What do you think?'

Wayne wonders whether he's imagining the nervous edge to Scott's voice, merely hearing in there what he wants to hear.

'I'm free all day,' Wayne says. He clamps the phone between his ear and his shoulder, needing both his hands to fumble around in his chest pocket and find a cigarette and a lighter. 'You wanna come over after breakfast? I can make a thermos of coffee and we can head into the woods here, I know a nice path around Lov- around the lake.' He can feel Eddie's gaze burning on him, but he refuses to look at his nephew, instead closing his eyes as he places the cigarette between his lips and lights it.

Scott is kind enough to pretend like he didn't notice Wayne's unfortunate stutter.

'A walk around the lake sounds perfect,' he says instead, his voice still as chipper as ever. 'I'll be at yours in an hour. Enjoy your breakfast with Eddie.'

'Real smooth, Uncle Wayne.' Eddie's amused voice cuts through the silence as soon as Wayne has hung the phone back on the hook.

'Don't be ridiculous now, boy,' Wayne grumbles. 'He's my friend.'

'With whom you're gonna hang out at Lover's Lake. Like friends do.' The sarcasm is dripping from Eddie's voice.

'I liked you better when you were still asleep in your bed,' Wayne remarks.

Eddie laughs loudly. 'You shoulda thought about that before you made me come out of it to freeze to death.'

Wayne crosses his arms and shoots Eddie an unimpressed look. 'Are you gonna do anything today or just spending your whole day makin' fun of me?'

Eddie shrugs – or rather, that's what Wayne supposes is happening underneath the moving blanket. 'I'm gonna take the kids to the pumpkin farm with Steve.' He lowers his voice and leans closer towards Wayne, continuing in an conspiratorial voice, 'We call that a date. Maybe you and Mr. Clarke should stop being cowards and come join us. Make it a double date.'

Wayne doesn't say anything; he simply rolls his eyes and walks back to the stove, lighting the gas underneath the frying pan again so he can direct all his attention to his eggs.

---

An hour later, Eddie has left – with a pit stop at the Mayfields' trailer – to pick up Steve. Wayne has done the dishes, dried the windows and filled a thermos with fresh coffee. By the time Scott parks his car in the spot where Eddie's van had been earlier, most of the fog outside has disappeared. Wayne watches him get out of his car through the kitchen window, but he doesn't come outside just yet, afraid it'll make him seem too eager.

Scott knocks on the door and then lets himself in, like he's done many times over the summer that now lies behind them. He's wearing a woolen coat in a dark gray color, with a simple black scarf around his neck.

Wayne feels his hands twitch with the desire to wrap themselves around Scott's waist, to tug him close and bask in the warmth of his body. Would his scarf feel as soft as it looks? Would he smell like fresh autumn air? Would his touch be as warm as the quilt on his couch?

'Oof, it's chilly in here,' Scott remarks, rubbing his hands together.

'I don't get cold that fast.' It's only partly a lie.

'I like the sweater.'

The easy and earnest compliment catches Wayne off-balance; he doesn't know what to do, where to look, where to keep his hands. He wants to escape Scott's approving gaze and hide away somewhere no one can perceive him.

Instead, he clears his throat and thanks the heavens for the fact that Eddie has already left.

'Ready to go?' he asks.

They head into the woods and Wayne leads the way as they stray further from the trailer park. Their feet easily find a rhythm that feels natural to both of them, avoiding the bigger puddles on the path and stopping every now and then to admire toadstools, dewy cobwebs, and fallen leaves in beautiful colors.

As they make their way around Lover's Lake, Wayne ponders what exactly the difference is between what Eddie would call a hangout, and a date. He doesn't exactly have a lot of friends who he hangs out with. He has his colleagues at the plant, of course, who he'd always kept at a distance, which proved him right when they were all too ready to come for his Eddie last March. He has some neighbors he's friendly with; he helps them with a thing or two around their trailers and in return they share a beer or a smoke with him. But he wouldn't call that real friendship either. He has learned long ago how dangerous it can be to let people come too close. Some people only wanted certain things from him, others would judge him when they'd find out a thing too many about him. And the pain of losing a rare, true friend became all too clear to him back in Vietnam.

After that, he mainly stuck to himself. And then it became him and Eddie against the world. He never needed anyone else. He was good at being alone, after all. There was a certain level of comfort to be found in loneliness.

So this thing with Scott – whatever it is – is not something he can compare to anything else. The only thing he knows is that it's definitely not lonely. And that he doesn't want to mess it up and lose the only true friend he's had in decades.

'What's on your mind?' Scott asks when they sit down on a fallen tree at the edge of the lake to enjoy their coffee. 'You've been quiet.'

'I'm always quiet,' Wayne points out.

It makes Scott chuckle softly before he takes a sip of his coffee.

'Not as quiet as you think,' Scott says. 'Today, you're thinking loudly. I can almost hear your thoughts.'

Wayne carefully places his own mug on the tree, then grabs himself a cigarette and lights it, all to buy himself some time. But even after a long drag and another sip of coffee, he still doesn't quite know how to voice his thoughts.

'Was just admirin' the fall colors,' he decides to say instead, when the silence starts taking too long.

He can practically feel Scott's eyes on his face as he stubbornly stares over the water in front of them.

'It really is the perfect day to do that,' Scott finally says. Apparently he has decided he'll let Wayne get away with it this time. Or maybe it isn't like that. Maybe he decided that he'll allow Wayne the time he needs to sort out his thoughts before he can voice them. Maybe he understands that Wayne sometimes needs a while before he's ready to talk about things. Maybe he decided that he didn't want to intrude. Maybe he decided that he values spending time with Wayne, no matter if they're talking or sitting in silence. And maybe this fall will be a little less cold than the ones Wayne has gotten used to, because when he risks a glance towards his left, he sees Scott wearing a smile that's appreciative of the nature around them. It's a smile that warms Wayne from the inside, in a way that the heater in his trailer has never managed to do.

[flowersandbigteeth]

Meeting your Changeling Boyfriend

A/N: This is a mostly complete, somewhat somber yandere story with some complicated emotions, flawed characters, and NSFW parts. I'll post the parts over a couple of days to not spam

Changeling (Clark) x Flower nymph f Reader

General Plot: You wake up in a strange place and meet a friendly changeling who is happy to help you adjust to your new home

TW: future nsfw, domestic violence, isekai, yandere, jealousy, fairy prejudices

Word Count: 6k

Next part will be posted soon.

You woke with a start, your eyes flying around the room you were in. This wasn’t your bedroom. Bolting upright, you took in the space you were in frantically. The walls were roughly hewn boards sealed with grout. You were lying on a lumpy feather mattress under a thread-worn quilt. A small woodstove in the corner warmed the room with a few dying coals. 

“Where? What?” you murmured, confused. 

Looking down, you realized you wore a long blue dress with a bow collar. It was simple but fit you well and was a pretty contrast to your skin. 

This was not your home. These were not your clothes. The last thing you remembered you’d gone to bed in your pajamas. You pinched your wrist, wondering if this was a dream, but no matter how hard you pinched, you didn’t wake up. 

Something smelled of jasmine, and you patted your hair, finding it wasn’t braided as you usually did before bed. It was also much longer than it had been, and vines of jasmine were worked through it. The length fell to just above your bottom in luxurious, thick piles. Trying to pluck one of the pieces of jasmine out, you winced as it stung, a drop of blood forming on the cut tip. The jasmine was growing out of your head! 

You hurried to your feet, hoping to find a mirror. There was a small bathroom with a metal tub, washbowl, and chipped mirror. Blinking at yourself, you found that you were still you. You had the same features as you’d gone to bed with, the same skin, only now you had jasmine winding through your hair. Pretty silver hair cuffs decorated with little pearls and shells shined in the candlelight.  Glancing at the tub, you found a few colorful bottles of oils, pots of cream, and a cake of soap that smelled like shea butter. 

You jumped at a large banging from nearby and hurried out of the bathroom. Making your way through the small one-story cottage, you opened the heavy wood door. A man was standing in front of you. He was quite tall, with dark, blue-black hair that was braided down his back and smokey gray eyes. Two pointed ears peeked out from the loose strands of his hair. 

“Good morning (Y/N)!” he said with a smile. 

“Do I know you?” you asked, utterly confused. 

You peeked past him at the forest surrounding the house. A field of beautiful flowers and juicy vegetables was enjoying the sunshine, butting up to a thick woodland. The man’s brow drew, and he looked at you more closely. 

“Are you feeling okay?” he asked. 

You shook your head. 

“I don’t know you…or…this,” you stammered, waving your hand at the field of flowers. “Where am I?” 

The man’s eyebrows jumped, and he looked around nervously before pushing past you into the house. 

“Are you playing a joke, (Y/N)?” he asked. 

You shook your head. 

“I went to bed somewhere else and woke up here,” you explained. “I have no idea who you are.” 

He frowned. 

“Oh my,” he hummed. “Have you met anyone other than me?” 

You shook your head. 

“I only woke up a few moments ago,” you said. 

“And all of this is new to you,” he finished your sentence, and you nodded. 

He moved around the small house as if looking for someone, finally coming back to you. 

“I think someone has bewitched you,” he finally concluded. 

You shook your head, confused. Bewitched? What the hell did that mean? 

“Bewitched? Magic isn’t real,” you scoffed. “Who are you anyway?” 

His head jerked back.

“You…don’t know magic?” he asked. 

You shook your head, and his nicely curved lips formed a thin line. 

“You came from somewhere else than Merida?” he asked, and you nodded. 

“I’m from (Y/C),” you said. 

“(Y/C)?” he grunted, rubbing his chin again. 

“Who…are you?” you asked again. 

“Sorry, I’m Clark. You and I have been…friends for many years,” he said. 

“How did I get here?” you asked. “Where is here?” 

He sat down heavily at the small table in the kitchen area. You could see the gears turning in his head as he worked through some inner puzzle. 

"You are in the province of Merida," he explained. "This little village is Alliet." 

Your mind was spinning, and you felt dizzy. 

Clark suddenly stood and helped you to a chair before pumping a cup of water out of a hand pump tap. 

"Here," he said. "Have a drink before you pass out. This must be quite a shock." 

Trembling, you lifted the cup to your lips and took a small sip. The water tasted fresh and sweet. 

"Wh-who am I?" you gasped. "My hair is…different…" 

He gave you a half smile. 

"I suppose the answer to that question is not so much who but what," he said, rubbing his chin. "Does your world have flower nymphs?" 

Your eyes widened. 

"In fairy tales, not in real life," you said. 

"Well, here, flower nymphs are an essential part of the economy," he said, pointing out the window to the lush garden. "You cultivate all of those flowers and sell essences and stems in the village." 

"I don't know anything about flowers," you said. 

"Yes…" he hummed. "Though your magic is still intact, I'm sure. You haven't lost your blooms." 

He nodded to the vines of jasmine falling over your shoulders. 

"How…how do I get back?" You asked, clutching the clay cup in your hand. "I can't stay here." 

A flash of recognition flared in his eyes, but he looked away. 

"I'm afraid you can't," he said. "A soul-swapping spell can only be done once. If people could come and go at will…it could be chaos. Whoever did the spell did it at great expense to themselves. Usually, they require a sacrifice." 

You gasped. 

"Who would have done something like that?" you asked. 

He blinked at you and then shrugged. 

"The other (Y/N) is the most likely culprit," he said. "Perhaps she had something she wished to escape." 

"But what?" you asked. "You said you were friends. You must know-" 

He held up his hand. 

"I cannot guess why she would have done that. Perhaps she simply wanted to experience something new. But that's not the issue at hand…the key issue here is that you need to be introduced to this world," he said, sliding a chair next to you and sitting down. "I'm happy to help." 

You chewed your bottom lip, completely at a loss. If Clark was willing to help you, you were sure you should let him. He said he was the old (Y/N)'s friend. 

"Aren't you sad?" you asked. "You lost your friend. She ran away!" 

He sighed and gave you a sad smile. 

"The old (Y/N) was always troubled. I'm sorry it is at your expense, but I'm glad she found where she wanted to be," he said. "I hope your world is all she dreamed it would be." 

You blinked at him, wondering if you should tell him that Texas was not exactly a paradise. She would probably end up in a hospital if she ran around trying to do magic.

Deciding not to, you got straight to business. "I guess if I'm trapped here, I should learn how things work," you sighed. "I don't expect you to help me for free. You don't know me. I'm sure I can find something to trade." 

His hand raised, and his thumb brushed your cheek. 

"I don't mind helping you," he said. "The village is rather boring, and I'd like to honor my friend."  

"I'll find something for you," you assured him, but he only gave you a bemused smile. 

"First things first, we ought to reintroduce you to the village," he said. "This is a small town. People will notice you are not the same. It's best to be direct. We’ll start at the doctor and make sure the soul transfer didn't harm you in any way." 

He stood, but you winced a bit. 

"Are you okay?" he asked. "In pain?" 

"No," you sighed. "Just nervous." 

He gave you a wide smile, revealing pointed teeth. 

"Do not be worried," he said. "I'll help you along." 

He held out a hand to you, and you took it. His fingers were long and strong with black nails. 

"Um…can I ask you something?" you asked as the two of you walked down a dirt path leading away from the house you woke up in. 

"You can ask me anything," he said. 

"I don't mean to be rude, but what are you?" you asked. 

He chuckled. 

"Of course, you would wonder," he said. "I’m a changeling.” 

You blinked at him. 

“Oh…I’m sorry, I don’t know what that means,” you said. 

He smirked. 

“I’m a type of fae,” he said, and before your eyes, his body morphed into something that looked like an orc, then a wolfman, then back to himself. “I change shape.” 

You gasped, blinking in disbelief. 

“Was that real?” you asked, forgetting yourself entirely and pinching his cheek. 

It felt like normal warm flesh. He gave you a playful smile, pinching your cheek back. 

“Yes, that’s all me,” he said. “I’m also a mage.” 

He held his palm up to the sky, and black fire burst from it. You jumped, squealing, and he quickly put it out. 

“I’m sorry,” he said. “I didn’t mean to frighten you. This must all be very strange and new, hm?” 

You nodded and gave him a wan smile. 

“You’ll get used to it,” he said. 

You looked down at your hands. 

“Can I make black fire?” you asked, and he chuckled. 

“No, no, you are a simple nature spirit,” he explained. “Not to diminish your value. You are extremely valuable; every town wants flower, tree, and water nymphs, but your magic is limited to growing plants and blooming flowers. Most villages take your protection to heart as nature spirits aren’t common and are very delicate.” 

“Oh,” you said, not sure how to process that information. “I don’t feel particularly magical.” 

“It will come to you,” he assured you, taking your hand. 

The sound of people laughing and the creaking of carriages drifted through the trees, and soon you were walking through what looked like a quaint medieval village. Your heart pounded as Clark led you through the hustle and bustle, and you squeezed his fingers. He glanced down at your joined hands, his lips parting before he returned his gaze to the road. 

“Morning (Y/N)!” a man with horns curving over his ears and hooves for feet shouted. 

You gave him a wary wave, not wanting to be rude. Clark winked at you. 

“Don’t worry,” he said. “Once we visit the doctor, word will spread quickly.”

As you walked through the village, magical beings you’d only seen in storybooks went about their day. Fairies with gossamer wings fluttered about, and you even saw a centaur unloading crates off a cart. Clark stopped in front of a little shop with a heart on the sign. 

“Here we are,” he said, nudging you inside with a hand on your waist. 

You noted that the office was very messy, with books and scrolls filling the tables and shelves. 

“Doctor Meriel!” Clark called deeper into the building. 

“Be right there!” a female voice shouted, and a few moments later, a tall, lithe woman with pointy ears and pink skin appeared. 

Her white hair was pulled into a tight bun on top of her head. If you had to guess, based on your knowledge of fantasy books, you’d guess she was an elf. 

“Oh, hello (Y/N),” she said, then glanced at Clark.

Her eyes drifted down to your hands entwined, and she frowned slightly.

“Clark... Is everything okay?”

“I think we should speak in an examination room,” he said, and she nodded, waving him back. 

This room was spotless compared to the front office. Clark nodded for you to sit on the examination table, and he turned his attention to the doctor. 

“(Y/N) has gone through a soul swap,” he explained. “This (Y/N) comes from…”

He looked at you. 

“(Y/Country),” you filled in. 

Dr. Meriel’s mouth fell open, and she hurried over to you, her lips forming a deep grimace. 

“Oh dear,” she hummed, looking you over. “That can be jarring on the body. Who would have done such a thing?” 

She pulled a wand out of her coat, and the tip glowed. 

“Follow the light,” she said, holding it in front of your eyes. 

You followed her directions as she examined your vision, ears, and throat. 

“My guess is our (Y/N),” he said, and she turned to look at him, an eyebrow raising. 

“You don’t suppose it was because of Harri?” she asked. 

Clark shrugged. 

“Who is Harri?” you asked. 

Dr. Meriel gave you a worried look. 

“Um…he used to be a member of our village. He left for the capital to join the King’s guard,” she explained. “Goddess bless us. I certainly hope he stays there.” 

“Why?” you asked, and her mouth opened and closed.

She and Clark exchanged a glance. 

“Harri…isn’t a nice fellow,” Clark explained. “But you don’t need to be worried about him. He’s gone.” 

“Oh,” you said, wondering why they all seemed so concerned. “I’m sorry.” 

They both looked at you, miffed. 

“Why are you sorry?” Clark asked. 

You wrinkled your dress under your fingers, your eyes getting a little misty. 

“I feel like the other (Y/N) was well-loved,” you said. “I feel like I stole her from you.” 

“No, no, no, no, no,” Dr. Meriel said, giving you a comforting squeeze. “Don’t think that, dear. Of course, I’m sad that she is gone, but it’s not your fault. In fact, I’m a little angry with her. She forced you into a soul swap against your will. It…doesn’t seem like something she would do…but perhaps she felt desperate. It was not fair to drop you into this world so abruptly. Many people don’t handle that shift well. People go mad, convinced their world isn’t real. It can…get messy. What she did was quite cruel.” 

“Am I going to go crazy?” you asked, and she gave you a sympathetic smile. 

“I think if you’ve gotten this far and not melted down, you should be okay,” she said. “Most people lose it the moment they are presented with an entirely new world. However, if you begin feeling…off…please return. There are therapies we can try to help.” 

“Is she okay…physically?” Clark asked. 

Dr. Meriel sighed. 

“Yes, she appears to be perfectly fine,” she said. “I’ll inform the mayor that we will be welcoming a new (Y/N) into our town. It’s best you take things slow. Don’t try to do too much all at once. The last thing she needs is more stress. Perhaps save the introductions until the village has been informed of her…condition.” 

Clark nodded and helped you off of the examination table. 

“You can come back to my house, and we can have lunch,” he said. 

“Thank you, doctor,” you said to the elf before Clark shuffled you outside. 

“(Y/N)!” a cheerful orcess squealed the minute your feet touched the cobblestone of the main avenue. 

She picked you up and spun you around in her arms. 

“I was just at your house!” she said, glancing behind you at the clinic. “Is something wrong? Are you hurt?” 

You looked up at the tall female, her thick dark hair falling over her shoulder and her head shaved close on one side. 

“I-I’m sorry…I don’t-” you mumbled, not sure what to say. 

You had no idea who this person was, but they obviously knew the old (Y/N) very well. 

“Neia!” Clark said. “This…this isn’t (Y/N). Well, the (Y/N) you knew.”

Neia’s brow furrowed, and her face took on a thunderous look. 

“What the hell does that mean?” she barked, her large fists on her hips. “(Y/N) and I have been friends since we were kids. You know that. I think I know what my best friend looks like.” 

Clark put a hand on her arm. 

“Dr. Meriel was going to announce it to the town all at once, but the old (Y/N) performed a soul swap,” he said. “I’m sorry Neia, the (Y/N) you knew is gone.” 

Neia’s mouth fell open, and her eyes grew shiny. 

“That’s not true! You’re joking,” she turned to you, and you trembled under her gaze. “You know me! Tell me you know me!” 

“I’m sorry,” you mumbled, looking at your feet. “I’ve never met you before. I don’t really understand where I am.” 

Neia’s face fell.

“But…I’m your best friend,” she said, her voice scratchy with tears. “You wouldn’t…she wouldn’t do that without telling me!” 

“I’m sorry Neia,” Clark said gently. “That’s the way it is.” 

Her eyes narrowed on him, frowning. 

“(Y/N) would never do that,” she said, crossing her arms. “It couldn’t be. Someone else did this to her!” 

“I’m sorry,” you muttered, tears slipping down your cheeks. “I’d go back if I knew how, I promise.”

She blinked at you, her face softening slightly. 

“I-I’m sorry…I- this is probably terrifying for you…” she hummed, brushing a large hand over your head. “I just…I can’t believe-” 

Again, her gold eyes focused on Clark, full of mistrust. 

“I don’t believe (Y/N) would do that herself, Clark. I don’t buy it for a second,” she snapped. “Goddess, bless whoever the culprit is when I find them!” 

“We all just have to get used to it,” he said, shortly. “I miss (Y/N) too, but think of her feelings. This is all new to her. Please treat her kindly.” 

Neia huffed. 

“Of course I’m going to treat her kindly,” she hissed, then looked down at you, lifting your drooping chin with a finger. “You ought to come home with me.” 

She glared at Clark, then glanced at you, holding out a hand. 

“You shouldn’t be left alone with him,” she said. “My family knew the old (Y/N) well and can care for you. This one can’t be trusted!” 

You blinked at her, not sure what to say. You knew nothing about the social life of the old (Y/N). Would she have mistrusted Clark as well? You had no way of knowing except that the doctor hadn’t seemed concerned that you were together. 

“I don’t want to be rude,” you muttered, “but I don’t know you.” 

Her head snapped back as if you’d slapped her. 

“How long have you known him?” she asked. “A few hours at most?” 

“I-um…” you mumbled, unsure what to say. 

“You’ll get plenty of time with her,” Clark hissed. “She’s only just arrived, and you’re confusing her! The doctor said to keep introductions minimal until she’s informed the town. You’re not questioning Dr. Meriel, are you? She left her in my charge.” 

Neia frowned but pointed a finger at Clark. 

“You’re lucky Dr. Meriel is a kind soul, or I would carry her back with me on my shoulder,” she snapped. “If I catch you mistreating her, I won’t hesitate to end you. Doctor’s orders or not.” 

“Um…thank you for your concern,” you murmured, trying to diffuse the situation. “And…I’m sorry for your loss.” 

Neia gave you a sad smile. 

“Still a kind nymph, even from another universe,” she murmured. 

She shouldered past Clark, sure to knock him over with her bulk. He looked after her, annoyed, as he brushed himself off, getting to his feet. 

“Damn orcess,” he muttered under his breath. 

“She doesn’t seem to like you much,” you pointed out. 

He sighed and drew up a smile for you. 

“Changelings aren’t well-liked,” he said. “It’s a stereotype that we’re all spies and thieves. Neia always hated me. We’ve all grown up together…but her parents told her I was bad when her dad found me in the woods the same day she lost her younger sister during birth and…well, the legend is changelings steal babies. It’s all nonsense.” 

“I guess racism exists everywhere,” you sighed, feeling sad. “It must have been so hard to grow up as an orphan.” 

He gave you a long, gentle look. 

“Yes…it was difficult,” he agreed. “But that’s enough sad stories. I owe you lunch.” 

He pulled you by your hand through back allies, avoiding any more villagers, until you reached a small castle, much grander than any of the other buildings. It was built with bright blue stone, and people wandered around the courtyard doing chores dressed in navy uniforms. 

“This is where you live?” you asked, and he smiled as he pulled you through the front door. 

“Built it myself,” he said. “Being a mage is a rather prolific occupation.” 

“It’s beautiful,” you commented. 

He led you into the foyer, which was decorated with lovely, carved wood furniture and large tapestries depicting mythical beasts. You stopped at one, brushing your fingers over the gold threads. 

“This is all like it’s out of a dream,” you murmured. 

You felt the heat of Clark’s chest behind you and his arms wrapped around you. 

“I wish I could make it easier for you,” he said quietly, kissing the top of your head. 

You sucked in a breath, and the scent of incense filled your lungs. 

“You smell nice,” you murmured, and he gave you a squeeze before pulling you by your hand to what must have been the dining room. 

“What sort of things do you eat at home?” he asked, and you thought for a moment. 

“Most everything,” you said. “Meat and vegetables, rice, bread…the normal stuff, I guess.” 

He nodded and grinned. 

“Got it,” he said, disappearing into the kitchen. 

A few moments later, the scent of roasted meat drifted to you, and a short man emerged with two plates full of what looked like a roasted bird and some toasted roots. 

“That was so fast,” you commented. “But it looks delicious.” 

“Magic,” he said as he took his seat nearby. 

The man bowed to him silently and disappeared. You looked down at the food, unsure where to start. 

“Is something wrong?” he asked, frowning. 

You shook your head and blushed. 

“Is…is it okay to eat food with magic in it?” you asked, and he blinked at you before bursting into laughter. 

“There’s no magic in it,” he chuckled. “I just used magic to make it cook faster. It’s very safe. I’d never feed you something that would harm you, (Y/N).” 

You nodded, feeling rude. 

“Of course, you wouldn’t,” you said, taking a bite of the chicken. 

It was delicious, seasoned with rosemary. 

“Thank you so much for all your kindness,” you hummed, feeling happier the fuller your belly got. 

He gazed at you with a smile on his face. 

“I’ve waited so long to spoil you,” he murmured, and you blinked at him. 

“You have?” you asked, and he straightened, appearing as if he hadn’t meant to say that. 

“It’s nothing,” he muttered, then changed the subject. “I’ve been wanting to visit the capital to do some business. Perhaps you’d like to join me and see more of the countryside?” 

You had nowhere else to be and were curious to learn more about this land, especially what a city looked like. This little town was very different than what you were used to. You also felt very anxious about meeting more of the town, based on how Neia had reacted to you. The people already knew and loved the old (Y/N); you were simply an imposter. 

When lunch was finished, he showed you the many rooms of his mansion, seeming especially proud of his laboratory. 

“This is amazing,” you gasped, looking at the glowing liquids in glass vials. 

He had a real-life cauldron, bubbling away with something smelly inside. The notes he had posted to the wall were written in some strange language. You paused on a small painting sitting on the desk. It was of you. 

“What’s this?” you asked, pointing to the picture, and he blushed. 

“Oh…just a painting I had made long ago,” he hummed. “When I was an orphan, you were my only friend. Nymphs survive rather independently in the old wood. It’s a different place than the forests near our homes. We met when I was hiding from Neia and Harri, and I brought you into town. Convincing the younger you to stay was my path to acceptance in this village. Otherwise, I would have forever been an outsider.” 

“Why did you have to convince me?” you asked, and he sighed. 

“Um…it’s a little complicated. As I said, nymphs can survive easily in the old wood. The animals see you as a flower or a tree and are quite fond of you. That’s where most nymphs stay,” he explained. “They don’t like fussing around with our affairs. Convincing one to move into town and using their magic to support the economy is…challenging. 

You do more for us than we could ever do for you, and you have much more to lose by our hands. The earth, the water, and the forest are filled with wild magic and difficult to tame. Those who venture into the old wood, rarely return. Though I can heat food and conjur fire, I can’t make a meadow bloom or trees bear fruit. No spell I can perform will bring a fruitful harvest or cleanse a poisoned well. Only you can do that sort of magic. Nymphs bring food, plentiful game, and clean, fresh water. Some would capture you and try to force you to do their bidding.” 

“Oh,” you said, chewing your lip nervously. 

“Why did I stay?” you asked, and he smiled wistfully. 

“I’d like to think it was for me,” he said softly, “but I probably will never know the reason. Many things happened since you moved in. It would be hard to explain in a sitting, but that’s enough talk of a past you will never truly understand. We must think of the future now.” 

He hustled you out of his laboratory and out of a rear door, heading down a small path. 

“Where are we headed now?” you asked. 

“To your home,” he said. “You ought to pack. I was thinking we could leave tomorrow.” 

“What about the villagers?” you asked. 

He shrugged, looking away. 

“They don’t deserve you,” he muttered, looking bashful again as if he hadn’t meant to say that. “It will be fine,” he finally decided. “This is about you. Not them. They’ve had years with the old (Y/N). You must choose on your own if you would like to stay. Don’t feel pressured because they want you to be her. You are your own person with your own needs. You may like the capital or wish to return to the wood.” 

He stopped at your front door. 

“I need to go home and make some preparations,” he said. “Pack whatever you like; there is plenty of room for your belongings. We’ll be gone a month at least.” 

You nodded and smiled at Clark. 

“Thank you for your guidance,” you said. “I know Neia had bad things to say about you, but I appreciate your patience with me.” 

He gave you a somewhat sad smile and then folded his body down to peck you on the cheek. 

“Pack and then have a good rest,” he said before turning to head back towards his mansion. “I’ll come get you in the morning.” 

You spent the evening sorting through the old (Y/N)’s belongings. They were simple enough, clothes, potions for your skin and hair, combs, and other utilitarian items. You hoped you’d find a journal or some other diary to learn more about her, but there was nothing like that. 

By the time the sun set, you’d filled a bag with the clothes you’d found in a chest and whatever pots and bottles seemed useful. 

You were just about to lay down for bed when you heard the front door open. Heavy footsteps moved through the front room, and scared, you hid in the small closet. 

“(Y/N)?” you heard a heavy voice ask. It was not Clark’s, but deeper and more raspy. 

Whoever it was moved through the house slowly before a dark figure blocked the light from your bedroom. A large hand jerked you out of the closet, pulling you into the light. 

“Why are you hiding from your own fiance?” the stranger demanded in a sharp bark that made you tremble.

He was much larger than Clark, with gold skin. Shaggy blonde hair fell to his whiskered jaw. Blue eyes bore down on you. Though he was unnaturally large and wide, he looked rather human. 

“Who…who are you?” you gasped. 

He smelled awful, like sweat and burnt tires. 

Your question seemed to infuriate him. 

“What game are you playing (Y/N)?” he shouted, tossing you to the floor. “Hurry up and start some dinner, you stupid wench. I’m starving!” 

“Don’t throw me around, asshole!” you huffed at the man, pulling yourself to your feet. “I don’t know who the hell you are, but no one calls me out my name! Get the fuck out of my house!” 

The man loomed over you, looking furious. His gold skin turned red with rage. He jerked you up in his grasp, tossing you easily into the kitchen. Your shoulder hit the stove, making you shout as pain shot up your arm. 

“Don’t talk back to me, woman!” he snarled, stomping towards you. “I see you haven’t been properly disciplined since I left!”

A heavy hand came down on your cheek, making you see stars. 

“Keep arguing, and you’ll get worse!” he snarled, marching out of the room. 

You had no idea who this man was and didn’t appreciate getting tossed around and beaten. The moment he turned his back, you fled, wiggling out of the kitchen window. It was hard to find in the dark, but you managed to locate the path that Clark had walked you down from his house, sprinting down it. 

When you reached the blue stone building, you banged on the front door, frantically looking over your shoulder to ensure you hadn’t been followed. 

“Miss?” the short man from before asked, dressed in his pajamas when he opened the door. 

“Please, I need help!” you gasped, your cheek and shoulder still aching. “Some man showed up at my house and started tossing me around!” 

His eyes narrowed, and he glanced over your shoulder, hustling you inside. When you were past the threshold, he was certain to drop the large piece of wood that barred the door. 

“Come with me, Miss,” he said. “I’ll wake the master.” 

He set you on a plush couch in the living room and brought you a glass of something that smelled alcoholic. 

“Some brandy to help with the pain,” he said, his eyes dropping on your swollen cheek, then scurried away into the dark house.

A few minutes later, Clark came rushing in, picking you up and examining you from head to foot. 

“Harri came home, didn’t he?” he snarled, looking just as furious as the strange man. “Bastard must have failed his entrance exam.” 

“I don’t know who he was!” you gasped, tears leaking down your cheeks. “He said he was my fiance then slapped me. I climbed out of the kitchen window.” 

“Shhh, shh,” he said, scooping you up in his arms and carrying you toward his laboratory. “I’ve got something to help. I won't let him get to you.” 

He set you down on a chair while he gingerly examined your cheek with his fingers. 

“Who was he?” you asked as he looked through his potions for the right one. 

Clark took a few minutes before he answered. 

“Harri is the mayor’s son,” he said through gritted teeth. “He got it in his head you were meant for him and moved in. The old (Y/N) was incredibly kind. Instead of abandoning the town and escaping to the forest, she accepted him into her home, thinking if she gave him what he wanted, he’d be…kinder…I suppose. They had some sort of…silly moment when they were children that made her heart soft to him. She thought he was a misunderstood malcontent, not the abusive man he is.”

“Then why wasn’t he here when I woke up?” you asked. 

His cool fingers spread a spicy-smelling gel on your cheek. 

“He decided he was good enough for the King’s guard, and he went to take the examination,” he said. “My guess is he failed and came home in a bad mood.” 

“No one stopped him from abusing the old (Y/N)?” you asked, and he looked solemn. 

“He’s not the way he is with you with the rest of the town,” he grumbled. “They see a charismatic, charming man. He hides his temper well, and (Y/N) covered for him. He and Neia are very close. (Y/N) refused to let me…do anything about it. Only Doctor Meriel and I knew because she often treated the old (Y/N)’s bruises. She thought she loved him. She thought she could fix him. The whole town supported the match. They were going to be married when he was accepted into the guard.” 

“Is that why she soul-swapped me?” you asked, and he gave you a long look as if he were thinking deeply about something. “To get away from him without upsetting the town?” 

“Yes, that is likely,” he said but didn’t elaborate. 

“Well, I don’t want to be married to him,” you said, tears filling your eyes again.

“Where else does it hurt?” he asked, looking down. 

You rolled up your sleeve, and he also applied the soothing gel to your shoulder. 

“I won’t let him have you,” he muttered, gazing into your eyes with his stormy irises. 

You heard a banging and winced. 

“Stay here,” he said sharply, and before your eyes dissolved into a puff of smoke. 

You couldn’t just sit there waiting for something to happen, so you hurried back down to the first floor, peering out of one of the windows. Clark was standing in front of him, preventing him from entering

“Hand over my wife, changeling!” Harri barked at Clark.”I know you have her!” 

You would have been frightened to stare down such a massive man, but he seemed unmoved. 

“She’s not your wife,” he snapped back. “(Y/N) knows nothing of you. She doesn’t love you, and I’m sure she hates you after tonight.” 

“Of course she loves me,” Harri hissed. “She’s always loved me! You’re just bitter she didn’t pick you! Bring her out before I break the door down!”

“She came here to hide from you,” he said. “She doesn’t want to go back. You ought to drop this before you get hurt.” 

“Like you could hurt me!” Harri boomed, pulling a heavy sword from the sheath strapped to his back. “I’ve already called the town guard. It’s only a matter of time before we chase you out!” 

Clark chuckled. 

“You know she soul-swapped herself to get away from you,” he said, smug. “The (Y/N) you’ve abused tonight has no memory of the accident that tied you together. The old one left you for another world so she’d never have to see you again.” 

At that, Harri looked hurt before his face returned to a stony grimace.

“You have a lot of nerve calling it an “accident.” Just another one of your lies! All you’ve ever done is lie! I’ve told my father we ought to chase you out, and now I have a reason. This town should have never accepted a filthy changeling to start with!” 

Suddenly Clark morphed into a version of Harri, right down to his big sword. 

"You have a lot of nerve calling it an 'accident'," He jeered, parroting the real Harri's words. "You're just sour your own pitiful attempt to chase me out blew up in your face! The accident was letting you live! You've lost, just accept it."

Harri charged him, sword raised, and before your eyes, Clark transformed into some creature you’ve never seen before. It looked like a ghost floating above the ground but was solid. Long gnarled fingers were tipped with massive claws, and his mouth was impossibly wide, filled with razor-sharp teeth. His red eyes glowed, seeming eager for the fight.  

He easily knocked the sword Harri was clutching out of his hand, long claws slicing his skin like butter. 

You gasped as blood sprayed into the dirt, and the hulk fell to the ground, still hanging on to enough of his pride to glare at his enemy. 

“The town guard is coming!” he gasped, pressing his hand to his chest to slow the bleeding. 

Clark disappeared into a cloud of smoke again and appeared beside you. 

“I told you to stay put,” he growled,  back to his more humanoid form. 

“How could I?” you asked, and his face shifted from annoyance to soft concern. 

“Ready the carriage!” he boomed, his voice echoing through the mansion. “Quickly!” 

Servants appeared from seemingly nowhere, hurriedly packing bags and rallying the horses. 

“We need to leave now,” he informed you, pulling you by your elbow out the door. 

As you passed, you stared at Harri, who was panting in the dirt. 

“(Y/N) please! Whatever he’s told you is a lie!” he shouted at you, his voice losing its volume at the end. “You belong to me! You love me! That changeling has bewitched you!” 

His golden skin was going gray, and his chest heaved. You turned away from him, finding it hard to have sympathy for a man who’d thrown you into a stove the moment he returned home. Clark cradled your head as if to shield you in his arm as he led you to the carriage his staff was preparing. 

“Is he going to die?” you whispered when he’d settled you on the lacquered black carriage bench. 

He plopped down next to you, slapping the side, and you heard the driver click at the horses to drive them forward. 

“Not likely, unfortunately,” he snarled. “The bastard is half ogre. They heal quickly. He’ll tell his father I tried to murder him, however. Which is why we need to leave.”   

“How could the other (Y/N) decide to marry that guy?” you murmured, utterly confused. “He’s horrible.” 

“I don’t understand it either,” Clark said quietly, stroking your head with his arm wrapped around you. “As I said, the old (Y/N) was troubled.” 

He brightened a bit, smiling at you. 

“But you have a whole new life ahead of you, darling,” he said. “There’s no reason for you to live in her past. I should have never let you stay in this village in the first place. You don’t belong here.” 

You gave him a wan nod, leaning into his warm chest. There was so much happening around you that you didn’t understand, but Clark felt like an anchor in the storm. 

“Will they come after us?” you asked, and he shrugged. 

“I bespelled the carriage,” he said. “They cannot see us. You are safe.” 

“But what about all your things?” you asked. “Your laboratory?”

He smiled at you. 

“All of those things can be replaced,” he said. “Your life is far more important. There’s nothing to worry about.” 

“Where are we going?” you ventured, and he looked thoughtful. 

“To the coast, then we’ll take a ship out of Merida,” he explained. “Across the sea, there’s a province named Ilirion where you will be safe. Enough questions; you need to rest.” 

The last four words were said in an odd lilt, and you felt your eyes getting heavy. You notched your head in the crook of his neck, and his arm wrapped around you. You fell asleep, the spicy smell of incense filling your breath. 

[georgeclarkewifey]

Inconvenience | g. clarke

Chapter 3 - Ikea Trip

Summary: four boys and noa in ikea, what could go wrong?

Word Count: 1.1k+

Warnings: swearing, George being a dick

noamurphy

liked by chrismd10, arthurtv and 13,473 others

noamurphy literally got halfway to Ikea before they demanded to stop for food

comments open

chrismd10 well we were hungry what did you expect?

⮑ noamurphy wait??? to get Ikea meatballs???

⮑ gkbarry_ noa speaking facts as usual

⮑ noamurphy love you babe x

arthurtv but we wanted hot dogs

⮑ noamurphy yeah and I wanted a successful football career but we don’t always get what we want

⮑ arthurhill just saw chris choke on his hot dog after he read this

⮑ fan new Noa lore?????

fan1 she’s so real for giving us this

⮑ fan2 mother really fed us today

⮑ noamurphy I worry for you guys sometimes

fan3 Ikea vlog 👉👈🥺 pls

⮑ noamurphy arthurtv ?

⮑ arthurtv 🫡

“Thank fuck.” Noa muttered, as the car finally pulled into the Ikea store parking lot. Somehow, their half an hour journey had doubled in length when Arthur TV declared that he was hungry and wanted to get hot dogs. “Honestly, all you guys do is think about your stomachs.”

“But I was hungry-“

“Well aware of the Television, maybe you should have had breakfast.”

“I had two Costco cookies!”

“Is that really what constitutes as a healthy breakfast these days.” Noa replied, rubbing her temples. “C’mon, let’s get this show off the road and into Swedish Heaven.”

Noa managed to herd the boys into the showroom area without much fuss, but once they were inside was where the real trouble began.

Arthur, who had decided to vlog the entire trip was running round the bedrooms with Chris, deciding to tumble out of a wardrobe every five minutes to declare that ‘they weren’t in Narnia any more’, which not only drew the attention of all the other shoppers, but some of the workers as well.

“Dixie! Please hold yourself together for five minutes, please? Just five minutes so that I can choose a bed frame and wardrobe…preferably one that you and Arthur haven’t tried to jump out of.” Noa pleaded, examining a black wooden bed.

“What colour do you want everything in? Because that will narrow the search down.” Chris said, before gazing at a set of bunk beds. “You know, if you ever wanted to have more than one person stay-“

“I’m not getting bunk beds Chris.” She sighed. “I’m not seven years old. Or making a nerf war sequel with my cousins.”

Starting to turn red, as the others snicked, Chris shook his head. “I was a kid okay? And at the time it looked good and we had fun!”

“Is anyone feeling thirsty?” Arthur TV asked, a slow grin starting to form. “I could go for a can of quick revive.”

Chris groaned in frustration, throwing his hands in the air. “Children, I’m friends with actual children.”

The four looked at each other, processing what he had just said, before dissolving into fits of giggles. Realising what they had interpreted, Chris shook his head and began to walk off. “Great, now they’re going to joke that I’m a nonce. Wonderful, just what I needed today, really, really it is.”

“Oh come on Chris, we know you don’t like kids. George, on the other hand-“

“Nope not even starting that conversation.” George grumbled, beginning to play with the drawers of one of the bed. “Why would someone want drawers on their bed?”

“If they don’t have enough room for a wardrobe I’m guessing. Not everyone has YouTuber money you see.” Noa replied, raising her eyebrows at him to reinforce her point. George just rolled at her and walked away, causing Noa to turn to the two Arthurs.

“Okay, what is his problem? Was it something I said? Or did?” She asked, moving to go inspect the next set of beds.

“Uh, we don’t actually know, we’re trying to figure it out too.”

“So he hasn’t even told you guys? Don’t you have like, guy time where you air all your grievances about stuff, and then bark like dogs at the end of it?”

Arthur (Hill) snorted. “No, you’re thinking of the Diamond Dogs, from Ted Lasso.”

“Shit yeah I am. Point still stands, he hasn’t said anything?”

“Not to us at least. And then I’d guess nothing to Chris either, because Chris then would have told us.”

Noa sighed as she ran her hand over a wooden bed frame. “Great, so one of your closest friends is pissed at me and I don’t even know why.”

“I’m sure he’ll come round, don’t even worry about it.”

“Thanks.” She muttered. “You know what, I think I’m gonna get this one. It’s cute, it’ll fit in my room, and I’m pretty sure there’s a matching desk and wardrobe.”

Grinning wickedly, Arthur (Frederick) beckoned Chris and George back over to join them. “You know, I reckon you need to test it, just to make sure that you like it.”

Noa smiled and flopped onto the bed. “Happy now?”

“Nah, I reckon you need someone to test it with you know? Just in case you ever find someone, or get lucky on a night out.” Arthur said, turning his head slowly to look at George.

“Why are you looking at me?” He asked, a small undertone of disgust in his voice, causing Noa’s eyebrows to raise gently.

“Well my shoes are muddy, so that’s a no. And Arthur and Chris are like her brothers, so I wouldn’t ask that of them.”

“But you’d ask that of me.” He grumbled quietly, moving to stand next to the bed. George sighed. “Move over then.”

Noa did so, smiling apologetically at George, before shooting a glare at the other three, who had all whipped out their phones.

George bit his lip as he laid down next to Noa, and began glaring daggers at the back of her head. He was hating every second, especially the fact that no matter where he looked, all he could see was Noa. From the top of her head all the way to where her hair fell on her back, obscuring the graphic print on the back of her hoodie. For a second, he wasn’t sure if he was in Ikea or his own personal hell, crafted for him by Arthur Hill.

“Wait, Noa you gotta make sure you’ve got enough room to roll over.” Chris added, throwing the couple an enthusiastic double thumbs up.

“I’m gonna kill you.” Noa said, only loud enough for George to hear, as she narrowed her eyes at Chris, who was too busy grinning from ear to ear, along with the two Arthurs.

George saw this and averted his gaze, doing everything he possibly could to avoid meeting Noa’s eyes as she faced him. He resisted for as long as he could, but eventually caved.

Luckily, he didn’t meet Noa’s eyes, as she had presumably fazed out, gazing at the geometric pattern on the pillow. George’s stare softened slightly has he studied her features, noticing the faint freckles that dotted over her nose, as well as the small circle of amber that added contrast to her icy blue eyes.

George wasn’t sure how he had been staring at her, but he was saved from any further embarrassment by Chris clearing his throat. “Glad that’s over.” He said, immediately sitting up and fixing his hair, leaving Noa behind.

She coughed, rubbing her face as if it would absolve her of any feelings of uneasiness and embarrassment. “Thanks for that.” She muttered to the two Arthurs. “I’m sure that really helped the situation.”

“I reckon so yeah.” Arthur Television agreed happily.

“Being sarcastic Artie, being sarcastic.” She sighed, patting his shoulder.

chrismd10

liked by noamurphy, arthurhill and 386,820 others

chrismd10 can’t buy an ikea bed without testing it first

comments open

fan1 noa??? and George???? what is going on right now???

⮑ fan2 I was there and I don’t think they’re a thing bc Arthur asked them to do it

⮑ fan1 but why would he do that if not for…?

noamurphy hate you arthurhill

⮑ arthurhill love you too

maxbalegde can’t believe my mans in bed with someone else

⮑ noamurphy not my fault I promise he’s all yours x

fan4 I know they say that there’s nothing going on but look how close they are!!!! really confused rn

⮑ arthurtv Watch my vlog and then you’ll be fine

gkbarry_ omg who’s that fittie in bed

⮑ georgeclarke yours truly

⮑ gkbarry_ ew no not you

⮑ chrismd get roasted George

⮑ georgeclarke shut up hobbit

[goldenraeofsun]

Paging Dr. Dad

Bruce wakes up to his phone ringing.

He clears his throat, swallowing past the lump of dread. “Go,” he says by way of greeting. No time for pleasantries at two in the morning.

“I just got a notification Steph is in the hospital,” Barbara says without preamble because they are actually very alike, not that Barbara would ever admit it. “Everyone’s on patrol except you, and I’m tied up with the Birds.”

“Her status?” Bruce asks as he gets up from bed, grimacing as his ankle boot bangs against the bed frame.

“Stable, according to her hospital intake form,” Barbara says, and some of his tension uncoils. “But,” she falters, “she shouldn’t be by herself. Not there.”

Bruce glances down at his flannel Superman pajamas Clark got him for Christmas partly as a joke. He’ll only admit it to Clark upon pain of death, but they are surprisingly comfortable and warm. He could wrestle them off over his boot and pull on a pair of sweatpants with even more difficulty, for what, his image? Stephanie is in the hospital, alone.

He forgoes his crutches – they’ll just slow him down – and clunks out of his bedroom. “I’m on my way,” he says. 

“I think her com got knocked out during the fight,” Barbara adds, “so she has to be pretty bored by now.”

Despite himself, Bruce smiles. “Well, we can’t have that. I shudder to think of what a bored Stephanie Brown can get up to.”

“Why do you think I called you?” Barbara says, her voice wry. “Thanks, Bruce.”

“Of course.” Bruce grits his teeth as he painstakingly makes his way down to the entrance hall. “I’ll be there in thirty.” 

“Twenty,” Barbara corrects. “I already sent a taxi to the Manor. Look, I’ve got to go. Give Steph a hug for me. I know you can. I know your arms are working just fine.”

Bruce says dryly, “Thanks for calling, Barbara.”

“See you at the next crisis.”

He hangs up and focuses on not tripping down the staircase and joining Stephanie in the hospital. After scribbling a note for Alfred still down in the Cave, he grabs his coat and heads out the door.

He waits for the taxi, hands shoved deep in his coat pockets, breath misting in the cold winter air. He hasn’t been further than the front lawn in a week, laid up with his broken ankle.

He thumbs his dark phone screen, lips pursed. He could call one of his sons for a full rundown of what went wrong and why Spoiler ended up in the hospital, but who knows if they could afford the distraction. If one of them could have been spared, they would be on their way to her, not Bruce. 

* * *

An extra fifty to the cab driver, and fifteen minutes later, Bruce is rushing through the doors of Gotham General. He throws the tired receptionist at the ER a winning smile that once made Miss America herself swoon. “I’m here to see Stephanie Brown. She was admitted about a half hour ago.”

The receptionist taps a few keys with one hand as she lifts a truly massive thermos with the other one. “ID?”

Bruce fishes out his wallet and hands over his driver’s license. “Bruce Wayne.”

The receptionist doesn’t blink as pushes it back towards him, “You can go on back,” she says. “Next!”

Bruce hurries around the welcome station, scanning the people in the ER slumped over in chairs, their expressions a mix of boredom, consternation, and pain.

If Stephanie was badly hurt enough to be admitted to the hospital, she wouldn’t be able to sit up, so he starts on the curtained off areas along the left wall, where the beds are. 

The first has an elderly lady spitting Spanish at a chastised-looking young man, so Bruce just mutters a low, “Lo siento,” and moves on. 

The second has an unconscious teen surrounded by his parents. His mother pats his hair worryingly, while his father is bent over a rosary. Bruce passes them by without saying anything. 

The third has Stephanie, just clad in her black nondescript black undersuit. Ice packs are shoved against her left side, and her left foot lays against the bed all wrong, the arch flat against the bed.

A doctor is talking to her in a low voice as he taps away on a tablet. 

Her eyes widen as Bruce pulls the curtain back so he can edge inside. 

The doctor looks up – Dr. Douglas Woods, according to the ID hanging off his lanyard. He’s young, his early thirties at most, and doesn’t yet have that haggard look of most of Gotham’s medical professionals. “I’m sorry, man,” he says to Bruce, “but you can’t be in here. We’re swamped tonight, but we’ll get to you as soon as –”

“He can stay,” Stephanie interrupts. “He’s family. He’s,” she throws Bruce an inscrutable look, pausing infinitesimally, “my dad. But most importantly, he’s wearing Superman pajamas. Do you have no pride, man?”

Bruce glares, his irritation spiking. This is what he gets for rushing to her side. “They were a gift.”

“From who? A novelty store BOGO sale?”

“From Clark,” Bruce says through gritted teeth. 

Stephanie’s eyes dance, and Bruce’s rigid posture loses some of its tension. If she can sass him, she can’t be in too much pain. “That man must have balls of steel.” And then she winks. 

“Stephanie.”

Dr. Woods coughs. “As I was saying, Steph, you got pretty roughed up.”

“Turns out I shouldn’t have tried to fight a speeding Subaru,” Stephanie drawls. “Not after I skip leg day.”

Bruce suppresses a pleased smile. A car accident is smart. 

“Yeah, don’t do that again,” Dr. Woods says with a small smile. “Your hip is dislocated, and we’ll try to set that in a few minutes. If we can’t get it on the first try, we’ll put you under anesthesia and pop it back. Do you consent to that, if we have to?”

Stephanie’s gaze darts to Bruce, who nods. He has dislocated his hip before; from experience, it should get back in its socket as soon as possible. 

“Yeah,” Stephanie says, subdued. 

“We’re going to get you to radiology to get that wrist looked at,” Dr. Wood says, “but it might be a while. They’re backlogged after that explosion in Chinatown.”

“I bet,” Stephanie deadpans, and ice wouldn’t melt on her tongue. 

Bruce’s gaze flicks up to the singed edges of her bangs.

“There’s not much we can do for your ribs,” Dr. Woods continues apologetically. “Just press the alert if your cold packs need replacing, and a nurse can help.”

“Thanks, doc,” Stephanie says as he gets up to leave. 

“How long until radiology will be able to look at Stephanie’s case?” Bruce cuts in before Dr. Woods can move on.

He grimaces as he glances down at his watch. “An hour?”

Two hours, then. 

As Dr. Woods pushes the curtain aside, Bruce asks loudly, “Are her ribs bruised, cracked, or broken?”

Stephanie shrinks down on her hospital bed, her expression darkening.

“Bruised, definitely,” Dr. Woods says. “But I wouldn’t rule out a few fractures from the impact. Regardless, treatment is the same.”

“What painkillers is she on?” Bruce presses.

“Just ibuprofen, but she’s also free to request aspirin from the nurse.” He frowns. “With her current injuries, I can’t prescribe her narcotics.”

“Will she need to be admitted overnight?”

Stephanie winces.

“It depends on that hip,” Dr. Woods says, clearly growing impatient at all the questions. “If we can’t set it without anesthesia, we’ll have to keep her, since it’s already,” he checks his watch, “three in the morning.” He more forcefully pulls the curtain back to leave. “I’ll stop by again soon.”

Once the curtain settles back in place, shielding Stephanie and Bruce from view, he turns back to find her glaring defiantly up at him, the fingers of her good hand tapping against the plastic bedding. “Well? Get on with it.”

Bruce frowns. “Get on with what?”

“The lecture.”

“What lecture?”

Stephanie huffs, “I don’t know. The You Took Unnecessary Risks lecture. The You’re Benched lecture. The You Fucked Up lecture. Take your pick.”

“I didn’t come here to lecture you,” Bruce says truthfully.

Stephanie makes a very skeptical noise in the back of her throat. “Then what are you doing here? Damian will report our run-in with the Ghost Dragons. Hopefully he’ll write in wherever he stashed my suit. Knowing him, the sewer, probably.” As Bruce just stares at her, her jaw takes on a distinctly mulish set. “Just get it over with, Bruce. My hip hurts, and I wanna pass out.”

“I didn’t come here to lecture you,” Bruce repeats.

Stephanie purses her lips. 

“I,” Bruce swallows, and why the hell did he race here, if Stephanie would clearly rather be alone? “I came here to keep you company,” he says, deliberately keeping his voice detached.

Stephanie chokes on air.

He surges forward, his concern spiking. “Stephanie –”

“I’m fine,” she coughs. “Just surprised.”

“Barbara called me,” Bruce says by way of explanation as he sits down in the chair Dr. Woods vacated.

“And you, what, rushed to my sickbed?” Stephanie asks, her tone still skeptical. “At three in the morning? Just to – what, make sure I can make it through the big bad ER?”

“Yes,” Bruce says helplessly.

Stephanie cackles.

Bruce feels vaguely offended.

As her grin fades, she says, “I didn’t – I would never have – what I mean is,” she squares her shoulders, meeting his gaze squarely, “Thanks, for coming. You didn’t have to.”

He scoots the chair closer. “It’s nothing, Stephanie. And, yes, I did.”

“But–” Stephanie cuts herself off as a distinctive voice from the waiting room doesn’t so much as float in but barrel through.

“Where is Brown? Where is my father? I demand –”

“No way,” Stephanie breathes.

Bruce barely has time to brace himself before Damian shoves the curtain aside. 

“There you are,” Damian says impatiently, but Bruce can read the concern in his youngest’s face clear as day, the pinched set to his mouth, the furrow between his brows, the way his eyes rove up and down Stephanie’s body, lingering on her ribs and hip.

“Hello, Damian,” Bruce says over the sound of rushing footsteps. “Dick,” he adds as his oldest skids to a stop behind Damian. “Where’s Tim?” Bruce asks because his family tends to travel in packs.

“Picking up Babs,” Dick says cheerfully. “Here, Dames, you forgot this.” He hands over a purple stuffed rabbit.

“I did no such thing,” Damian says, lifting his nose into the air. He makes no move to take it.

“Mm hm,” Dick hums, shaking his head. “This is for you,” he says, turning to Stephanie and tucking the purple rabbit against her good ribs. “Damian spotted it in the gift shop and thought you’d like it. He ran off while I was paying.”

Damian hisses, “You did not have to buy it, Richard.”

Dick chuckles, a broad grin spreading across his face. “Like I was going to steal from a hospital –”

“That’s not what I meant!”

Stephanie raises the rabbit to eye level. Casually, she asks, “What’s its name, Damian?”

Damian turns to her, his eyes wide. “I did not –”

Stephanie lowers the rabbit. “Seriously? You’re gonna lie to me when I’m wounded, suffering and in pain, could be dying –”

“… Antonia.”

Stephanie absorbs this for a long moment. “That’s a dumb name.”

Damian rears up. “It is not –” 

Bruce settles back in his chair, content to listen to them bicker. He keeps his gaze trained on Stephanie, though, watching as the tension eases from her face the longer she goads Damian, distracting him from his worry. 

As Damian and Dick get into an argument about Dick’s naming abilities – at least they keep their voices down as batarang, batcomputer, and batmobile get thrown down like gauntlets – Bruce leans in towards Stephanie. “If you’d like to pass out, now is the time to do it.”

“Roger,” Stephanie says, blinking heavy-lidded eyes. “You’ll take Antonia if I have to go to surgery, right?”

Bruce reaches over to rub one of Antonia’s soft ears between his thumb and forefinger. “Damian will probably guard her with his life.”

“And you?” she asks.

“To be honest, I’m far more concerned about you,” Bruce says. “You should get some sleep.”

With that, her eyes close, and Bruce settles in to wait.

[insomniac4000]

If you Loved Me- A ChrisMD Fic

From my Wattpad

Sometimes if you love someone you have to let them go, you never understood that phrase until it came a point in your relationship with Chris that it was obvious it was no longer going to work. His channel was keeping him busier and busier and flights to the mainland were happening more frequently, it was only a matter of time until the question came up but you knew you couldn't go with him.

"But I've found a great flat, it's on the ground floor it has two bedrooms your mum can stay," Chris pleaded as he looked into your eyes, they were brimming with tears, this wasn't a journey you could go on. Your mother had been ill for as long as you could remember and she was only getting worse, degenerative diseases did that but she could live for another twenty years with round the clock care or she could die tomorrow, you couldn't leave her and couldn't ask her to leave her home. All the specialist equipment was set up for her here, she had a sister who would help, she had the carers she knew and recognised.

"You say it like it's easy. She can't get on a flight you know that." Your mum's muscle disease had now rendered her bed bound, she had been for six months now. There was no way to get her to the main island even she wanted to. 

"We can find a way, boat? I'll pay for a private ambulance and then..." You cut him off, with your eyes flooded with tears you hugged Chris tightly before painstakingly pulling away, your heart ached, more than it had ever done before, more than when your dad left when you were ten. He couldn't hack it anymore, it had only been you and your mum since and it had to stay that way she needed you. 

"Chris. This is your dream, not mine. I need to stay here I'm sorry," you whispered. Chris gasped sharply knowing what you were doing but wanted to fight it every step of the way. You had been together since you were fifteen, you were twenty four now these kind of romances were so few and far between. 

"My dream is being with you."

"Don't. You've let me hold you back for this long, you need to go and I need to stay here. I love you but we're at a crossroads now and we've got different paths." You had always felt guilty every time Chris ended a shoot early or came back from the mainland early because there was an emergency with your mum. You couldn't do that to him anymore. 

"Please don't do this," Chris whispered his eyed now spilling with tears, he grabbed your arms tightly but not to hurt you as he went to kiss you. You turned your head away and shook it, knowing if you kissed him you wouldn't be able to let him go and you had to. Instead you placed a kiss on his cheek and told him you loved him and you were proud of him for following his dreams. You turn turned on his heel and left his house, leaving a very heartbroken man standing in the doorway to his room. 

Of course Chris did go, him being able to collaborate more only made his channel grew. In fact he ended up moving in with a couple of other content creators George Clarke and Arthur Hill with yours and Chris's old school friend Arthur Frederick not far away. The four collaborated a lot, along with some other people and whenever you got time you watched some of their videos. You tried to make a point not to watch him a lot, you still loved him and as much as this is what he needed to do it was hard to hear jokes about all the dates he went on. 

The truth was Chris went on so many dates because he was desperately trying to find someone but no one matched up to you, every single woman was measured to you and none of them made the cut, he told himself he just had to keep looking. 

He was currently making a video with Arthur, George, Harry and Theo when Arthur who was on his phone like usual gasped. 

"Chris, Chris I think you need to come and see this," Arthur bellowed as loud as he could in his usually soft voice. 

"Arthur I don't care about chess," Chris moaned as he dropped the football by his feet.

"Chris please." Arthur looked so serious that Chris couldn't help but run over, he looked at the screen and his face dropped when he saw a message from Arthur's mum saying that your mum had passed away. Chris got his phone out of his pocket and saw a similar message from his mum, with the additional info that the funeral would be Friday. 

"What do I do?" Chris asked.

"What's happened?" Harry enquired, walking over to the Jersey pair. 

"Y/N's mum's died." Arthur announced sadly, he then turned his attention back to the small man who was running his hands through his hair. "I think you need to go."

"You're right." Chris nodded, that smart little nerd was always right. Harry then placed an arm round his friend, along with Arthur he was the other person who knew how much that girl meant to him through his time visiting Chris and doing videos in Jersey. 

Back in Jersey you were coping but only on the surface. The funeral arrangements were keeping you busy enough to stop yourself from losing it completely, to an observer you were doing very well getting your head down and organising everything. The truth was your mum had her wishes laid out years ago so you knew what to do. People who knew you a bit more noticed how quiet you were, Chris's mum came over with a cup of tea and a cake from your favourite bakery plus some home made pasta bake so you didn't have to worry about cooking. She was always sweet to you, even after the breakup if she saw you round the island she'd always stop for a quick chat, making a point to not mention her son as she knew you were hurting too. 

It was the day before the funeral and you sat there in your living room, it was yours now but you didn't want it you just wanted her back. The doorbell went and you sighed before getting up from the cream sofa walking to the door, assuming it was someone checking in on you, your aunt or some more flowers you opened it not caring you were still in your PJ's at two o clock in the afternoon. There on the other side of the door was the only other person you had wanted to see again apart from your mum. You hated yourself for thinking about how good he looked, his hair was now natural and curly and he had sprouted now facial hair, it suited him. Completely forgetting you two hadn't spoken in two years you broke down into tears and fell into his open arms. He wrapped them around you as tightly as he could without hurting placing his head on yours as you sobbed into his shoulder. 

"Shhh it's okay. I'm here now." Chris soothed, his voice sounded like angels singing it had been so long since you had heard it not being through a screen. Chris had arrived in Jersey that morning, he caught up with his mum who had told him the how and when's, suggesting that she could really do with a friend to speak to as her mum's health had worsened so much since Chris moved that you spent all of your time caring for her and most people your age had moved on with their own lives. He held you there for a few minutes until you calmed down and the cries turned to small sobs. 

"Did you want a cup of tea?" Chris asked, you nodded only realising you had barely drunk anything that day, you weren't taking proper care of yourself, it was too easy to forget to eat, or drink, or change you looked down at your attire. 

"Please. Sorry for the state of me."

"You never need to apologise for anything. Ever." Chris's words gave you some relief. Him letting you know that he wasn't mad at you for everything is all you ever wanted to know. 

"Place hasn't changed much," Chris mused when the pair of you were sipping on your tea, he even bought out a pack of biscuits from one of the cupboards. 

"Dunno what I'm going to do with it now, or with my life." The house belonged to your grandparents who, knowing their daughter was ill left it to her and she now in turn had left it to her daughter. All you have known for years is looking after your mum, you had a job in a book shop but it was part time, the owner knew you and your mother and was very understanding to your situation giving you time off and flexible hours. You would have gone to university but couldn't leave your mum, you put your life on hold for her which was why you wouldn't let Chris do the same for you. It took everything in Chris's power not to say to come back with him, now wasn't the time you needed him to be there and he was. 

He sat next to you at the funeral, held your hand he looked up at you encouraging you to go on as you read the eulogy. He had his arm around you as you watched the coffin get lowered for the final time. He stayed in your spare room for three nights, making you breakfast every morning and dinner every evening until he had to go back to film. 

"There is no pressure but it wanted a break you can come and see me," Chris offered before he left. You nodded and did think about it seriously, he called and messaged you every day to check in on you and after a month of you wallowing you decided to take him up on the offer messaging him back 'I think I'm ready for that little holiday.' 

"Chris, there's another girl at the door for you!" Arthur Hill bellowed from the front door, George smacked the back of his head. In his conversations with Chris the past few weeks he knew you were different. 

"I thought he was picking you up at the airport, he's just filming with..." George started to explain when Arthur and Chris came into view. 

"It's so nice to see you again," Arthur smiled before bringing you into a hug.

"I got an earlier flight," you smiled at Chris and almost fling yourself into his arms, they felt so safe to be in. 

"I feel like a right knob now making you lug that thing around across London."

"Oh it was no bother." You'd take anything to see Chris again sooner. 

"So how long are you around for?" ArthurTV asked when you were all sat around the sofas with pizza later on that evening. 

"I don't know, whenever I get fed up I guess, I just needed a break," you explained and Arthur nodded sadly. The expression on his face was the same look everyone else gave you, sadness, concern and pity. The only person who didn't look at you like that was Chris, he only had care in his eyes. 

You had been to London a handful of times before but there was so much you wanted to see and Chris took you to everything. You laughed together, you cried together but you had realised how much this break was needed and how much better it made you feel but it got you thinking, was it the break or was it Chris? You stayed for three weeks but eventually life needs dealing with. 

"I need to make sure the house is still standing at least," you explained to Chris as he watched you pack your bags. 

"You can always come back whenever you want. Have my key! I'll get another one cut," Chris suggested and you couldn't help but laugh at his almost childlike optimism. 

"You know I sit there in that house and I hate it. It's nothing but bad memories. It's her house, not mine and I just sit there and think about her, watching her deteriorate, thinking about all of the things I missed out on because I stayed."

"Like us?" Chris said softly. Up until now neither of them had bought up their past but Chris couldn't hold it in any longer, these past few weeks had taught him he wasn't prepared to let her go again, there was nothing stopping them this time. 

"I had to," you reminded him and yourself. You still stand by what you did, it was the right thing to do at the time. 

"I know. You're grieving I'm not going to be an arsehole and jump on you when you're down but. I never stopped loving you." Chris walked to you and gently caressed your cheek with his thumb, it was something he often did before he kissed you and he did, it was very short but incredibly tender. 

"I love you too." You whispered bringing him in for another kiss. Guess what they said was also true, absence really did make the heart grow fonder. 

[vmplvr1977]

If Josie is in Clarke’s head, can she know when they fuck and read Clarke’s mind when she thirsts over Lexa ?

Oh, definitely! And she's gonna give Lexa shit over it in the next chapter! I don't normally do this, but I decided to add a snippet from the next chapter in my answer... it's not edited, so please forgive any errors.

Spoilers for the next chapter below the cut!!

"Ugh, you two are fucking insatiable," Her mother groaned, prompting an eye roll from Lexa.

"Stay out of my head, nomon," She grumbled. Her thoughts regarding Clarke were private, and the last thing Lexa wanted was her mother rummaging around in her mind while she lusted after her mate-to-be.

But, of course, her mother insisted on being obstinate. "I can't really help it, especially with you both drooling over each other nonstop. Do you have any idea how many times Clarke thinks about doing the nasty with you?"

Lexa fought the blush that dared to give her away. "We are not having this discussion."

Determined to change the subject, and avoid her mother, Lexa strode towards her cottage. She should have known her mother wouldn't drop the subject. Josephine Lightbourne was a bloodhound when it came to sticking her nose in her daughter's personal matters. Today would be no different.

"Oh, we are definitely having this conversation," Her mother insisted as she trailed behind Lexa with a determined gait. "Because you clearly haven't thought this out. Do you want to be knocked up for the next millennia? Cuz that's where this is headed."

Lexa let out an exasperated huff. "You must be joking, nomon! I'm a vampire, not a,"

"No, you're a Prime. Meaning you're just as capable of popping a few dozen pups out as the next omega," Josephine retorted. "I'd suggest you practice safe sex, but we both know that's out the window— especially with your 'you can only cum inside me' rule."

Her mother rolled her eyes, while Lexa's cheeks burned hotter than ever. This was a nightmare, one Lexa hadn't considered until now. She knew her mother could enter hers or Clarke's mind whenever she pleased. But she never imagined her nomon would stick her nose into Lexa's sex life. 

"I'm not being judgy. Clarke's one hell of a catch," Her mother continued. "And no offense to your previous lovers, but you pretty much traded up from a rickety hunk of junk to a Ferrari."

Lexa didn't spare her mother a glance as she entered her and Clarke's cottage, slamming the door in Josephine's face. It was a major downgrade from the penthouse in Polis, but their hut was cozy, with room to grow. With the prospect of splitting time between the forest and Polis, Lexa had considered turning the extra bedroom into an office.

She'd hoped her mother would get the message and this discussion was over. But Josephine Lightbourne was almost as determined as Clarke. So, it was no surprise that Lexa's mother was sitting across from her with a smirk the moment her daughter plopped onto the couch. 

"Go away," Lexa demanded. 

"Look, I get it," Her mother offered. "You've been avoiding alphas since you were a kid, and Clarke's fucking irresistable. She's got your inner wolf ass up and tits out, which is totally understandable."

"Please stop," Lexa begged, burying her face in her hands as if it might make her mother vanish. But she knew better. When has Josephine Lightbourne ever let go of anything?

"Just between us girls, I kinda love your mate's body," Her mother smirked. "I mean, look at her, all muscly and confident. And she's good with pups? What girl or guy wouldn't fall for that?"

Lexa followed her mother's gaze out of the window, finding Clarke trotting proudly on four feet. It wasn't lost on Lexa that the wolf likely overheard their conversation. Knowing Clarke, the alpha didn't care if Lexa's mother knew they were fucking like rabbits. 

In fact, she was reasonably confident Clarke was proud to be the one who sent Lexa tumbling over more times than the vampire could count. Wolves weren't ashamed of sex, as it was a major part of their lifestyle. Normally, Lexa wouldn't bat an eye on the subject. But this was her mother drooling over Clarke, making it wildly inappropriate.

"But you gotta be smart, Lex. Clarkey's got the equivalent of two state-fair size watermelons for a ball sack," Her mother unabashedly offered, further mortifying her daughter. "And you're letting her nut inside you?!"

"Oh, gods!" Lexa covered her face once more. 

"I feel sorry for whoever has to clean your sheets," Josephine mumbled, shaking her head as she watched her daughter's lover rolling around on the ground. 

"I'm begging you, nomon, please stop!" Lexa pleaded, refusing to meet her mother's gaze.

"And let's face it, you two have a lot of sex," Her mother continued. "When you're not, Clarke's thinking about it— like all the fucking time. Seriously, being in her head is like watching a fucking porno marathon."

"Em pleni, nomon (Enough)!" Lexa didn't mean to shout, but it seemed like her only option.

Still, it didn't deter her mother in the slightest. 

"Don't get me wrong. I'm all for having a million grandkids running around, which is a low number given how insatiable you two are." Her mother rolled her eyes. "But I don't think you've thought this whole 'only cum inside me' rule of yours through— especially with her rut coming."

[bluejaysandblackbats]

Lost Boys

Fandom: DC Comics, Batfam, Superfam

Summary: After Jonathan Lane Kent wipes himself from existence by canceling his own timeline, he finds himself stuck in the afterlife where he meets Jason Todd. He still wonders about the life un-lived on Earth, and how his parents would've felt about him.

Jason Todd, who is making the most of being dead, struggles with the reality of what he's left behind. He has one wish and one wish only: to send his family one final message.

Chapters: 15/?

Characters: Jonathan Lane Kent (Laney), Jason Todd, Catherine Todd, Boston Brand, Bruce Wayne, Clark Kent, Lois Lane, John Constantine, Raven, Talia al Ghul, Ra's al Ghul, Dick Grayson, Tim Drake

Relationships: Platonic JayLaney

Additional Tags: Angst, Platonic Relationships, Magical Jason Todd, Resurrected Jason Todd, Queerplatonic Relationships, Canon Divergent AU, POV Multiple

Chapter Fifteen: Loosing Interest (Laney's POV)

Jason sat up straight and gasped. I was already awake, but it still startled me. He jumped out of bed and changed clothes. It didn't seem like he was all there. I opened my mouth to speak to him, and he pulled a gun on me. "Jason, it's me. Please don't wake up my parents," I half-joked. Jason blinked hard and put the gun in the waistband of the back of his pants.

He apologized and started packing our stuff. "Ra's is coming," Jason whispered.

"That's not necessarily a bad thing, though... Right?" I asked as I touched the wall to find him in the building. Jason stared at me.

"What are you doing?" Jason questioned.

"Looking for Ra's... Besides, if Ra's is here, I can hide you," I whispered. Jason sat on the bed next to me.

"You can do that?" Jason asked.

"I think so... Hold on," I whispered as I used my powers on the lamp by the bed. "Ha. I've still got it." Jason furrowed his brows.

"Can your dad do that?" Jason asked, and I shook my head.

I let the lamp go back to normal and lay back down. "We don't all do the same things," I replied. Jason sat up and looked at me. "He's not here. It was just a bad dream—."

Jason shook his head. "No, it's not just a bad dream... Laney, I think that I've been traveling," he whispered. I nodded. "Like outside of my body, Lane."

"Jason, get some rest. I'll keep watch just in case something happens," I whispered in reply. He gave me the gun and lay back down. I put the gun in the nightstand drawer.

I listened for footsteps and kept watch for any strange movements around the building. I believed Jason, but I knew that it'd only frighten him if I told him that. I went to my mom and dad's bedroom and stood outside the door. I didn't know what I wanted from them, but my dad came to the door. "Hi, Laney," he whispered as he placed his hands on my shoulders. "I'm sorry, but I overheard you kids talking. Are you two in any kind of danger?"

"No, we're fine... I just—. How do you feel? About me?" I asked. He smiled at me, and it felt natural.

"Laney, you seem like an amazing young man, and I'm impressed by the loyalty you've shown to Jason. I want to get to know you on a more personal level in the future," Dad replied.

I knew what he was trying to ask. "You want to know if I have plans going forward," I whispered. He nodded. "I don't really have any plans. I think Jason wants to make sure that whatever spell he cast on me keeps working. So, maybe we'll go stay with the Titans... I dunno."

"That might be good for you kids for a while... Does Bruce know about-." I nodded before he could finish talking. "That's good... That's really—. I love you very much, and I hope that we can visit each other someday." No one had ever said they loved me before. I mean, Jason and I had things that we told one another that felt like an I love you. It was strange to hear the actual words.

"I love you too, Dad," my voice broke as I said the words out loud. We hugged, and he offered to heat up some leftovers for me. I nodded, and we stayed up a while longer together and talked.

I told him all about my life, and he talked about his. I started to doze off, and then I remembered my promise to Jason. I checked a second time to see if anyone new came into the building. Someone stood over Jason's bed, touching his forehead. "Dad," I whispered, and I gestured to the room.

He nodded and followed me into the room, where I locked eyes with Ra's al Ghul. I didn't think before taking him out the window with me. "Don't touch him!" I screamed. I wanted to kill him, but something stopped me. I took him away from the apartment and stopped at the pier. "Talk."

"I'm not going to hurt him... I wanted to ask him to return—."

"You want to use him. He came back, and you want to know why. I know what you want. I've been watching you. I know things about you that not even your daughter knows," I whispered through clenched teeth. Ra's looked me in my eyes, and I wanted to burn a hole in his skull. "We don't know why he came back, but he doesn't need you looming over his head. You're not taking him anywhere."

He looked at me, and it was almost as if he could sense something different about me. "Are you like him?" Ra's asked. I shook my head.

"Touch him again, and I'll kill you," I threatened before leaving him there.

I went home, and Jason and I changed clothes. Jason seemed afraid. "Are you going to be okay?" Dad asked.

I didn't respond as I got dressed, and Jason touched my arm. "Your dad's talking to you," Jason whispered gently. I swallowed hard.

"He wants you to go back because he wants to use you to find some weird secret to immortality," I whispered, "Dad, I'm sorry. Tell Mom that it was so nice to meet her." My stomach was in knots. I grabbed our duffels, and Jason reached for my hand.

My dad embraced both of us, and a few seconds later, we were leaving. We didn't take the car. It seemed too risky. I flew us straight to Titans Tower that night, and we watched the sunrise across the water. "Lane? I'm sorry you—."

"Jason, I will never let anyone hurt you or use you ever again," I interrupted. I didn't want him to worry about me.

"Lane, thank you, but I'm okay. I just wanna know if you're alright?" he asked. I nodded, and he squeezed my hand. "I don't know what I would do if something happened to you. Lane, don't make an enemy of Ra's... Okay? If he finds us here, I'll deal with him. I don't want him coming for you."

"I'm not gonna let him—."

Jason shot me a look that made my blood run cold. "Laney, you will do this one thing for me because I told you to. Don't—."

"Everything I do is for you! I almost killed for you tonight! All because I—..." I trailed off.

"Because you what?" Jason asked. I grew silent, and neither of us spoke after that.

[raccoonhearteyes]

Part I  | Part II  | Part III | Part IV  | Part V | Part VI | Part VII | Part VIII | Part IX

October 20th, 2018. 

They keep ending up in the same place. It’s fate. Or destiny. Or a cruel joke. But somehow they end up at the same small jazz concert at this rinky dink bar that Lexa was sure there was no way Clarke would know about. But in she strides with the same small group of friends and Lexa has been transfixed from the moment she walked in through the door.

Lexa sits at the bar, nursing an old fashioned and quietly watching. She watches Clarke drag her hand through her hair and smile a sigh of relief after settling into a comfortable booth with her friends. She’s wearing a primly tailored suit, so Lexa knows she just came from work. The baby blue blouse brings out her eyes. The band croons on, a gentle beat, the strings more dominant in this one than the last.  

    When I give my heart it will be completely     Or I'll never give my heart     And the moment I can feel that you feel that way too     Is when I fall in love with you.

Somehow, Clarke’s eyes find her in the crowd, and Lexa hopes it’s because she could unconsciously feel that the song was singing about them, that Clarke heard the sentiment and her heart, however unaware, sought her out. She knows it’s not that, but she lets herself indulge in that small fantasy. 

Their eyes meet. Suddenly it’s July and Lexa is helping Clarke stuff her purse with appetizers. It’s August again and they’re laughing over coffee at the cafe. It’s September and they are in Clarke’s unmade bed, fingers tangled in sheets and with each other, Lexa’s mouth tracing the warmth between Clarke’s legs.

It isn’t just Lexa who stares too intently for her own good. One of the friends, Raven, Lexa thinks, elbows Clarke in the ribs and nudges her to go talk to her. Lexa’s heart thunders in her chest and Clarke peels away from her group of friends.

A short conversation somehow leads to gently swaying on the dancefloor. The lyrics of course, hitting too close to home. It’s an all female cover of Unforgettable, and the irony is not lost on Lexa. 

    Unforgettable in every way     And forevermore (and forevermore)     That's how you'll stay (that's how you'll stay)     That's why darling, it's incredible     That someone so unforgettable     Thinks that I am unforgettable too

Instead, she holds tight to Clarke’s hand and waist, as they sway and twirl on the dancefloor, wrapped in each other and oblivious to the world around them. 

Lexa’s not sure how they end up tipsy and stumbling back to Clarke’s apartment. All the previous times blurring together. 

“Your eyes are like a forest.” Deja vu. Deja vu. Deja vu. 

She falls into it. It’s too easy. She’s too weak to spare herself the heartbreak of the future when she could have this present. Clarke is so warm and familiar. And it feels like their hands were meant to tangle together, their tongues destined to meet, pieces of Clarke fitting so perfectly into Lexa. 

“Alex,” Clarke groans as Lexa moves down to kiss her neck. And it’s so close to Lexa. So close to her name that it spurs her further.

Lexa lifts her and carries her into the bedroom, not worrying about how she already knows exactly where everything is. She sets her down gently on the bed, reverently. Then slowly starts removing both of their clothes, kissing newly revealed skin, tracing new lines with her tongue. Clarke’s blonde hair is spread like a halo around her head. Lexa can think of no better analogy. 

By the time she dips her fingers to touch Clarke, they’re both eager with need. This won’t take long. The slow build has ignited a powder keg between the both of them. 

“Alex, Alex,” she croons, the gasp swallowing the A so all that comes out is “Lex, Lex,” and Lexa bites down on her shoulder to try to conceal her own groan. The swell of emotion that comes with her own name coming along with this girl is almost too much. 

Lexa doesn’t stop at one, instead descending down Clarke's body leaving kisses and love bites along the way. She tries desperately to suck a hickey on her hips, her thighs. To give Clarke something to remember this night by, even if it’s just an anonymous bruise in intimate places. But like all other marks, they fade after only a few moments. 

Clarke groans, bringing her forearm over her mouth. Her other hand instinctively moves to Lexa’s hair, hips grinding against Lexa’s tongue. By the time Lexa pushes Clarke over the edge, both are damn near breathless. She removes her fingers and pillows her head on Clarke’s thigh, enjoying the light scratching Clarke offers to sooth yanked ends. 

Clarke only needs a few moments to recover and coaxes Lexa back up before flipping her onto her back. 

She slides two fingers into Lexa easily, the thrill of watching Clarke unravel twice has her soaked.  She feels her orgasm build quickly, sucking at Clarke’s neck to try and distract herself to prolong this a little bit more, but Clarke must be able to feel her beginning to tip. 

 “Clarke I lo---,” but she cuts herself off, filtering what isn’t allowed for a one night stand, and instead cries, “I’m co-- coming” , the intentional stutter to distract from her almost confessing her feelings. Clarke’s eyes sparkle with pride, and she tilts her fingers just right. Curls them just enough and sends Lexa over the edge.

Lexa has only just come down off her own high, heart stuttering in her chest, ragged breaths shared between the both of them, but she’s determined to make this night last. To not let Clarke fall asleep and forget her. Her lips are on Clarke’s pulsepoint, and her breath hitches, “You’re insatiable.” 

Lexa slides her fingers inside and starts moving slowly through her. The moan she lets out is loud and dirty. Lexa’s heart thrums wildly in her chest. She thinks making Clarke unravel may be what she was put on this earth to do. She starts to kiss her way down Clarke’s body, pausing to spend time at her chest before continuing down, down, down…

Lexa’s eyes are dark and hooded when she looks up to meet Clarke’s eyes, and Clarke nearly breaks with the eye contact. Lexa’s hands hold Clarke’s hips in place. Clarke comes hard, the waves rolling through her. Lexa doesn't stop, doesn't slow down. Laps at her until Lexa feels a light tug on her hair, a tap on her shoulder urging her up. Clarke is breathless and flushed, and completely blissed out on her pillow, when she says “I can’t possibly come again.”

“What if I’m not ready for the night to end?” Lexa tries to hide the vulnerability in her voice, but isn’t very successful. Clarke is already starting to doze off as Lexa uses her chest as a pillow, but she cracks an eye at Lexa’s worry of ending too soon, “Then talk to me instead.” 

Clarke rolls onto her side, face to face, nose to nose with Lexa and they start a game of random questions. Favorite color. Least favorite vegetable. Best gift they’ve ever received. Best gift they’ve ever given. Worst first date. Secret dreams. Embarrassing moments. The game goes for an hour, but eventually, Clarke starts to yawn through her words, drifting off before she finishes her own story, and Lexa starts to accept the night is over.

Clarke has shifted since they started talking, nose nuzzled under Lexa’s chin, limbs koala-ed around her body. Lexa knows she should leave. She knows she should spare herself the pain of tomorrow morning. But Clarke isn’t quite asleep just yet, and places her hand on Lexa’s neck, as if encouraging her to keep talking, the soft vibrations lulling her to sleep. So Lexa talks, quoting a poem she read last week until she feels Clarke go slack.

She dozes off without even realizing it. 

------------

Waking up happens slowly for Lexa. She is wrapped in blankets and bare legs, and she’s momentarily too content to move, to realize that she accidentally slept over. 

Waking up happens suddenly for Clarke. She jerks awake as if she’s been burned, then looks down to find herself wrapped around a stranger. 

“Good morning,” Lexa offers a soft smile. 

“Who the fuck are you?” Clarke asks groggily, and the question hits Lexa like a bucket of cold water to the face. 

“Alex… we met at the concert last night?” She offers, unsure why she sounds so unsure.

“Did you… did you drug me?”

“What? No! Of course not!” Lexa cries, heart racing and twisting in her chest. Last night was so perfect. How did it get tarnished so quickly?

“Then why can’t I remember a thing?” Clarke asks angrily. 

Lexa is hurt. She’s had mornings of unease and awkwardness, tinged with apologies. The inevitable aftermath of the absence of a memory, but this one stings. “Clarke, I would never. Please, you have to believe me,” she pleads. Her voice cracks as she says it and she can’t stop the tears from spilling over as she frantically picks up her clothes off the floor. 

“Get out,” Clarke demands.

Lexa knows she could redo this morning. She could walk into the bathroom and return wrapped in a towel, and Clarke would have no memory of the first wake up. She could enjoy cinnamon spiced tea, and sit in the living room and see what kind of painting Clarke would make of her today. She could. She could. She could fall into moments with Clarke again and again, but she knows there is no future in it. Only an infinite number of presents, and Lexa has had as many of those as she can bear.

[spider-jaysart]

Headcanon Ask:

We seen plenty of times what can happen if Conner or Kara are watching over Chris and Jon. Now what about Mon-El, Clark’s Daxamite ‘brother’?

@paladin-of-nerd-fandom65

Oooh, I feel like Mon is the type of Uncle that's the "Fun, friendly favorite Uncle" for Jon and Chris whenever they're around him, so I imagine that whenever it's his turn for him to watch after them, they all end up just having a really good time together doing fun stuff like:

Going out for sundaes at the ice cream shop

Making jokes and laughing out loud together, since I imagine that Mon has a very humorous side to him that makes him very fun to be around

The three of them playing catch in the air with Krypto together

Visiting the nearby fair together for fun and also taking pictures together while they're there for memories, and they also get themselves souvenirs like hats and T-shirts and stuff

Playing the card game Go fish (I feel lke this would be their thing)

Going to the arcade and seeing who can get the highest score

Learning flipping tricks from eachother

Marathoning movies together later in the night until Clark and Lois come back home

And then once Clark and Lois are finally back home, they find the three of them peacefully asleep on the couch after the fun long day they had together as the movie is still playing on the tv

Clark and Lois smile at this warm sight and just turn off the tv for them

Lois then wakes up Mon as Clark carrys the boy's upstairs to their bedrooms

Mon, after waking up, tells them that he had a really good time with the boy's that day and that he'd be happy to watch them again, so if they need anyone's help to watch them at all, to let him know and he'd be happy to do it again

Lois and Clark, happy with his answer and his offer, let him know that they will

Mon goes upstairs to see the boy's one last time before he leaves the house

After checking up on them, as he's about to leave the room to let them sleep, both Chris and Jon wake up and ask Mon if he's gonna be coming back again

With a happy smile after hearing their question, he goes up to the both of them and while giving a playful ruffle to both of their hairs, tells them that he definitely will be, especially if Clark and Lois need him to watch them again

Both boys become very happy with the answer that their Uncle gives them and let themselves lay back down on their respective beds once again, shutting their eye's close and saying "Goodnight, Uncle Mon." Which he responds back with "Goodnight kiddos." He then gives them both a kiss goodnight to their foreheads and fixes up their blankets for them before leaving the room and gently closing the door

Thanks for the ask, Buddy! :D

[guillotinekim]

As a long-time watcher of the CW's Arrowverse, I decided to indulge my curiosity and start watching Smallville some time ago. I have been slowly but surely making my way through the episodes and am currently nearing the end of season 3.

...As always, I have some thoughts.

In no particular order:

I find myself actively SCRAMBLING to mute the episode every time the intro starts. It's so displeasing to the ear. 🥲Somebody save me fr, because girl what is this?

A boy aiming a telescope at his neighbor's house so he can spy on the girl that he's attracted to is not a good way to set the stage for a ship at ALL. Super creepy.

Jonathan Kent is insufferable. He was awful to Lex for a long period of time and has a really annoying "my way or the highway" type of energy. You're not always right, my guy.

...What are the ages here? I can make an educated guess about the Smallville High students given their year in school...but what is the age gap between them and Lex Luthor? My understanding is that he's already graduated university prior to the first season...so I'm guessing roughly eight years? So why was it appropriate to write a scene in S1 where a fourteen year old Lana attempts to seduce Lex? And why does no one find it odd that Lex becomes besties with a kid who only just barely hit adolescence?

The will-they-won't-they dynamic between Clark and Lana got old in season 2. In season 3 they actually did get together...but it lasted for all of two seconds and now we're back to mutual pining? Let this be the last season. Please. I beg.

Clark is actually wildly unintelligent...? For someone trying to stay under the radar, he makes a habit of being present at crime scenes, seemingly appearing out of thin air when it's most convenient (super speed) and is constantly at the Kawatche caves?

Baby...these damn caves. Let's get into it. The writing on the walls translating to Clark Kent somehow being the "savior" to a tribe of Native American people is the epitome of a white savior plot if I've ever seen one.

I see a lot of potential for Chloe's character (there's something I can't help but appreciate about a talented journalist character doggedly pursuing the truth) but she either has no concept of boundaries or doesn't respect them, which I find very distasteful.

The sheer amount of characters infatuated and/or obsessed with Lana Lang is ridiculous. Don't get me wrong, she's very pretty and kindhearted. But we're really going to do this every few episodes of every season?

They created a new sheriff character for absolutely no reason. Sheriff Adams was introduced as though she was going to be a new hurdle in the Kent's lives (by actually doing proper police work...imagine that), yet she doesn't contribute to the storyline at all...?

Was Henry Small a necessary addition? I assumed that the discovery of Lana's biological father both being alive and wanting to know her would change her life significantly. But instead his new wife pops up blaming the demise of her marriage on Lana (? You were busy secretly filing for divorce when you should've been scheduling appointments for couple's counseling? How is that on Lana?) and effectively guilts Lana into pushing away the only immediate family member she has left on Earth. I felt like my time was a bit wasted there.

Clark has every right to choose what he does or doesn't want to disclose about his personal life, but there's a lot of lying and gaslighting he ends up having to do to hide his secret. Despite this, he seems to demand a level of transparency from Lex that he himself is unwilling to give.

At some point I started noticing that the majority of Clark's scenes at home are of him in the barn. It's giving the network gave them a budget for a bedroom or a barn and they chose the barn. 😂

Is the running gag of S.T.A.R. Labs having shitty security in any way inspired by Smallville? Because the way people are able to just waltz into places that should be secured and not easily accessible (including but not limited to: Lex's mansion, LuthorCorp, the literal hospital, etc) is concerning...

Is it me or do people in Smallville keep scoffing at the idea of supernatural abilities despite the fact that people with said supernatural abilities keep popping up in town and more often than not, causing a scene and getting arrested?

Pete planting a kiss on Chloe and revealing that he was in love with her was both VERY unnecessary and completely out of nowhere.

Speaking of Pete, it feels like the writers don't know what to do with him. I know he's Clark's best friend...but is he? It was established via dialogue that Clark's close with Chloe and Pete and that the latter has been his best friend since grade school...but it seems like the majority of development has been placed on Lex, Lana and Clark's relationships with the both of them. Chloe's able to snag some storylines and development here and there because she had a crush on Clark and she's got that whole "nosy reporter" thing going for her, but Pete? Sometimes it feels like Pete is just...there. Even with knowing Clark's secret, he's not as involved in the plots as I thought he would be.

Chloe's been a poor friend to Clark a handful of times, but she's not the only one. In the last quarter of the first season, Clark finds out that Chloe has a crush on him and out of nowhere begins this storyline of Clark feeling conflicted because of his long established romantic feelings for Lana and his previously non-existent romantic feelings for Chloe. Lana isn't available (I believe because of Whitney if memory serves me correctly) so he settles for Chloe as a consolation prize, despite the fact that he has not shown even the slightest inkling of being attracted to her even once the entire season. After their relationship crashed and burned in the span of five minutes (because Lana was always his first choice) I realized that we have barely seen the two of them connect as friends. The majority of time Clark spends with Chloe is out of necessity. When he needs to use her, her resources or her connections, is when he makes himself available to her. It's been addressed since I noticed it, but the dynamic hasn't changed much. They're both guilty of being shitty friends.

I'm unclear on what exactly the effects are of Red Kryptonite. It's my understanding that it removes Clark's inhibitions, but removing someone's inhibitions and changing their personality at the core are two different things. It literally turns him into an asshole.

Clark's worst moment so far was definitely allowing Lex to be hauled off to an asylum knowing full well that Lex wasn't having a psychotic break and was actually being drugged by Lionel.

Are we 100% sure that Lionel's government name isn't Lucifer?

I know that Lex Luthor is supposed to be a villain, but bro? If my own father and best friend did me like how they did Lex in episodes 8 and 9 of season 3, I'd turn on everyone too.

Before I forget, now is a good time to mention that in episode 8, there's a scene where a crazed, paranoid Lex yeets Lana through a stable door for having the audacity to pour him some chamomile tea for his nerves. The resulting crash landing startles the horse inside so badly that it promptly tramples on Lana's back. I'd like to take a moment to acknowledge that the scenes that followed of Lana's recovery placed basically all of the emphasis on her left leg. Now to be fair, I did notice that said leg was bent at an unnatural angle after she got stomped out. But the horse was literally doing an Irish folk dance on her SPINE?

I try not to get attached because I know Lex is destined to become a villain...but I find myself rooting for him. Why can't he ever have nice things? 😩

That being said, the moment I realized Lex's life would be a nonstop series of unfortunate events was in S2E2, where a woman with seduction powers manipulates Lex into marrying her sans prenup, all the while planning to off him and abscond with his fortune. But when the plan to gun Lex down is unsuccessful, she shatters a nearby bottle of alcohol on his back and LIGHTS HIM ON FUCKING FIRE. I cannot make this up (and I won't lie, I laughed at first because what the entire fuck). For a character that usually seduces men to do her dirty work, she lit Lex's ass up like the 4th of July with no hesitation whatsoever. 🥴

Last but not least: The level of talent coming from the guy playing Lex Luthor...this man is acting in every scene he gets as though it may be the last one he'll ever get to do in life. 10/10.

[lexa-griffins]

45 Queen and knight ? Or if it doesn’t inspire you 16 Military au

45 - a kiss out of anger ( clexa - Queen & Knight AU)

"Your majesty!" the firm yell follows Lexa as she marches back to her room, the sound of armor clanking onto itself trailing behind it but she pays it no mind, "Lexa!"

The heavy sounds of armor picked up and soon Lexa's arm is being yanked by the woman who follows her, forcing her to turn around and come face to face with her personal knight, red in the face.

"You cannot be seriously considering this." Clarke stares at her like she has gone mad, wild eyes searching Lexa's for a sign that this is a rare practical joke on her side, "Marrying Ontari?"

"I do not have to justify any of my actions to you, Wanheda." Lexa states harshly, sure to leave no room for contest but knowing Clarke will find a crack anyways.

"As your head knight I believe-"

"I do not remember asking what your believes are Clarke. You are here to protect me against threats, nothing more, you yourself have made that clear. I will marry Ontari as it is in the best interest of this kingdom I do so, and that is not up for discussion, much less with you." Lexa stares Clarke down with a lack of warmth that takes the knight back, "You ought to be reminded of your place below me."

The queen steps towards her knight, who, a rare show of cow, backs up the same distance for a heartbeat. It does not last long as anger fills her up again.

"Ontari is a threat to you - and the kingdom! And that is my business!" Below the anger, desperation is starting to make itself know and Clarke forces her blunt nails into the skin of her palm. She despises the jealousy feeling that keeps on making itself known ever since queen Nia arrived two night ago, bringing her youngest daughter with her, a ruthless princess raised as a knight, intent on asking for Lexa's hand in marriage, knowing well that a refusal would strain even further the relations between kingdoms. And yet, Clarke wishes Lexa had said no; that she had yelled about them trying to blindside her and called for war - a war that Clarke would have gladly fought in this time around.

"Deliver me one good reason why I shouldn't accept Ontari of Azgeda as my wife." Another step forward and Lexa can feel her knights breathing on her jaw, can so clearly see the snarl that's forming at the corner of her lip at the dare.

The wood of her bedroom door hits her back without Lexa leaning against it, the heaviness of Clarke's armored body flush against hers. She is about to protest such a treatment, but Clarke's lips seal over hers before any word is out. The knight if rough with her, pinning her by the waist, lips bruising and biting at her own but Lexa does not fight her; against her better judgment, she melts into it, allowing herself to be kissed and guided, angrily as it might be, a moan escaping her when Clarke's thigh lodges itself between her legs just as her teeth sink into her bottom lips, pulling it with her.

It's over before Lexa has the time to truly understand the meaning of it. Clarke lets go of her with a push, turning her back to her queen as she wipes her mouth with the back of her hand, as if ashamed by her lack of control.

"Is that your reason?" Lexa all but whispers, chest raising with the force of her breathing. All she needs is for Clarke to say yes, and she fears she might lead her kingdom to war just for the love of a girl.

"No." Clarke rushes out, backing away from her, breaking Lexa's heart in her wake "It is no reason at all."

[butmakeitgayblog]

So I saw this photo and I immediately thought you your CI Clexa and them being on a private plane for their honeymoon and all the nefarious shitntheyd get up to on the plane. The insane honeymoon itself. How Lexa plans most of it but Clarke plans one little bit just to show her appreciation for her honey who spoils her rotten. (Not like she isn’t already 🥹) and now I want to read this like I need air to breathe 💖🤌🏻

Believe it or not a dressed down Lexa is a happy Lexa. She's so used to traveling in business attire or stuff that's ready to go from landing straight to event that the times when she can just relax on a trip are refreshing.

And for something like this? When she swaps out her normal jet for her Boeing so her and the 'Little Missus' (Clarke fucking hates when she calls her that, so naturally, she does it constantly 😌) can fly ~comfortably~ no matter where they decide to go?

Oh. She's gonna do whatever the fuck she wants.

Because Lexa actually hates flying and and hates the tedium and hates feeling so cooped up for sometimes upwards of 18 hours+, so it's well established that the goal of everyone on board is to keep Lexa... preoccupied. Just so she doesn't get snappish.

And Clarke takes that's as a personal challenge.

The crew know well enough to not just barge into the back half of the plane, whether it be the dining area or the lounge area and Clarke's made it clear she knows the legal loopholes around murder over international waters if they set foot in the far back bedroom.

But what the crew doesn't know, the little secret between only them, is that actually, the majority of their time is spent just being silent together. Yes, of course they're heathens and platinum card carrying members of the mile-high club a few hundred times over, and yes that bed has seen Lexa's legs bent in ways the good lord never intended, but their true dirty secret is honestly just how fucking grossly cuddly they are when schedules and work and social events aren't plaguing their time. The truth is, you're more likely to wander in and find Clarke just curled up in Lexa's lap, silently looking out the window and doing absolutely nothing at all together. Just being together. Stroking each other's hair. Tracing patterns across any skin within reach with fingertips and palms. Hiding smiles in necks and collarbones. Trading little pecks and slow languid kisses between hushed jokes and barbed remarks while they catch each other up on gossip.

It's humiliating.

They're that couple.

And they'd fuckin murder anybody who found out😩

[hyunjilicious]

fwb [s. stan/c. evans/h.cavill]

A/n: DO NOT ask me why I wrote this. I have no idea why I did this to myself, but I thought I’d share anyway!

Summary: no matter how you put it, a catching feelings while you’re in a fwb relationship isn’t good! (SMUT, FLUFF, angst?) 9.2k

Warnings: threesome, dirty talk, unprotected sex, spanking, slapping, daddy kink, size kink, degradation, humiliation, oral, pain kink (+/- some dubcon), submission, cum play... issa lot ok? don’t read if any of these make you uncomfortable!! 18+ 

This is a standalone fic, and not part of any series. However, come talk to me about it, please!! Tell me what you thought!! And don’t forget to reblog in case you enjoyed it!!

"Last question-" the interviewer announced. She turned around the papers in her lap and placed them to the side, before she intertwined her fingers and looked up at you with a devious grin on her lips. "I have to ask this, Y/n. We all need to know, who's your favorite? Superman or Captain America?"

Of course you couldn't help but chuckle, shaking your head at the question she came up with. It was fair to assume you hadn't been asked this before for the sole purpose of avoiding a scene, but the lady standing in front of you seemed overly pleased with herself. Unlike Henry and Chris, who were seated on either side of you. Even if you didn't actually turn to look at them, you could feel their glares throw daggers. Anticipation floated in the room, and judging by the way they just softly chuckled or refrained from making any kind of comment, you knew how anxiously they were awaiting your answer.

"I-" you said, before bursting into laughter.

"Even I would choose Superman," Chris joined in, placing a hand on his chest for emphasis. "Dude's got X-ray vision. He's faster than light, he can fly. He's the real deal" he raised his palms, ready to accept his defeat.

"See-?" Henry butted in, and you giggled, more to yourself, at the game they started playing. You knew very well it was nothing but a big, fat, obvious trap. "Superman's got all of those, but Captain America still manages to save the world time and time again, without superpowers. I think that makes him greater"

Oh, how screwed you were.

"So, Y/n?" the interviewer pushed, ever so obviously satisfied with the tension she created, "Who will it be? Steve or Clark?"

In turn, you looked at both of them. Henry was smiling his ass off, waiting for you to say the wrong name, while Chris seemed to be lost in thought.

"Ugh, ok" you took a deep breath, and glanced into the camera, "I'm sorry, but I'm Team Cap. I gotta be."

Whereas Henry accepted the defeat with stride and sweetly mentioned he couldn't ever blame you for choosing Captain America, Chris was ecstatic. He didn't even try to hide his excitement, the chair nearly breaking under his energetic jolts of pride. 

After a few more unimportant comments were made, the interview ended and the lights were turned off. You all hopped off your seats and walked over to the buffet table, your conversation still going strong.

"Really, Y/n? Cap?" Henry taunted, his voice low and mocking, right against your ear lobe as you popped a cheese stick into your mouth. "This guy? Why did you have to do me like that, hm?"

Henry placed the tip of his finger under your chin and elegantly prompted you to look up at him. 

"I don't know, man" Chris laughed from somewhere behind you, "I think I own fair and square, Cap is just the better superhero"

Henry scowled, glancing at the blonde, over your shoulder. His ice cold eyes made the salty treat get lodged in your throat, and you had to pull away from him in order not to actually choke. "Relax-" you said, raising your hands in defeat as you started walking towards the door, "It's not like I chose between the two of you. That would've been a whole other deal"

"Wait what-?" Chris deadpanned, "What does that mean?" He added, hurrying to follow you and ask for further details.

Needless to say, the subject wasn't dropped until quite a while later. People swarmed you, papers had to be signed and pictures were taken as the employers from all levels of the building gathered outside your dressing room hoping to meet some of their favorite superheroes. It was all a buzz and about 2 hours later, the three of you were finally able to leave, making a beeline from the back door of the building, all the way over to the car that was waiting for you.

You ended up on the backseat, again between them, but this time the atmosphere was relaxed. Your blood only started to boil when Henry asked for the partition to be rolled up. As soon as the space inside the car was divided and you were given your privacy, Henry grabbed your chin and forced you to face him.

"Think I forgot about earlier?" he questioned, his devious grin wide enough so that his perfect teeth became visible. 

You giggled and forced yourself out of his hold. Shuffling around the seat, you threw one leg over his thighs and sat down in his lap. Henry looked you up and down, remotely displeased with your attitude but he didn't complain.

You grabbed his cheeks into your palms and pushed yourself up against him, his face now inches away from your chest. "And what are you gonna go?"

He wasn't about to let his guard down, "You're acting all bratty now, but you'll regret that later, baby"

"I doubt that" you teased, bending down to tenderly kiss his sweet lips, "What could you possibly do that I won't like?"

"Wish you hadn't asked that" Henry laughed, his whole frame shaking against yours. He grabbed your ass and squeezed harshly, pressing you closer to him.

"I'm scared" you joked, trailing your lips along his cheeks, knowing just how crazy you could make him. 

"Y/n" Chris warned, "Today I'm on your side, but even I can tell you're pushing your luck"

Even if he didn't necessarily manage to deflate your attitude, you plopped down from Henry's lap and resumed your spot between them. The atmosphere didn't get any denser and the topic of conversation swiftly shifted to rudimentary randomness like what food should you order once you got home or whatever plans either of you had for that night. You subtly avoided the word 'date' when you told them you'd be meeting with a friend, and breathed out relieved when they didn't pressure you for details. That was a conversation to be had between 4 walls and with no prying ears.

Once home, your home - they came over, you casually opened the door and meant to make your way inside as if nothing was wrong, but Henry, just as previously stated, had other plans.

Securing a strong hold around your way smaller frame, he lovingly leaned down over your shoulder, "How are you doing, love?" he nonchalantly asked.

His scent overwhelmed your senses, and despite knowing where this was going, you tried to play it off. "Good, you?" you smiled, sinking into his arms.

"We need to talk"

"Do we?" you laughed, but managed to do absolutely nothing in terms of impressing him.

You knew just how much he loved it when you asked for it, and this was not something he'd ever let slide. "Come with me, darling," Henry cooed, gently guiding you into the bedroom.

You followed him without showing any kind of resistance, turning around in his hold and wrapping your arms around his neck. You stumbled backwards down the hallway, sloppily kissing his lips.

Much to your surprise, he was more than eager to reciprocate, his palms burning through the soft material of clothing that covered your sides. He kissed you deeply, his tongue exploring your mouth with so much fervor, as if he had been deprived for too long. 

Henry clumsily opened the bedroom door, stumbling forward with you against him, until he reached the bed. Considering how weak you were for him and how you always allowed yourself to get molded by his will, when he pushed you back against the bed, you fell with a small huff and remained there, only your eyes following him.

"What are you doing?" you asked, seeing him open your closet and actually step inside to look behind the corner.

Before he even started to answer your question, Chris walked into the room. He was casually undoing the buttons of his shirt as he strolled past the bed.

"Hi-" you giggled, extending your hands towards him. All you wanted was some attention.

"Hi, baby" Chris laughed, bending down to kiss your forehead. "You're gonna be good for us, ok? I don't wanna have to go to hard on you"

"Then don't" you pouted.

"That's only up to you" he added, straightening his back and finishing up on undoing his buttons. His tattooed chest became visible and your mouth watered in an instant. 

Burning from the inside with anticipation and pure lust, you fell back against the cushions, your thighs uselessly trying to alleviate some of the pain between your legs. But no amount of rubbing and friction would ever match up to the tension in the room, and you loved it.

A couple of moments later, Henry walked out of his closet, dressed exactly the same, clutching tight into his hands the famous superman costume. None of you has ever been too shy when it came to exploring new kinks and desires, but this, you did not see coming.

Your mouth fell open, "Really!?" you almost drooled, but he has probably never been any quicker to burst your bubble.

Staring you down, Henry clutched his fingers into the material of his suit, bringing his hands together in front of his chest, before tearing the material apart with a loud screech. He lightly huffed with the effort, but soon enough, the actual costume fell to the floor by his feet, while the red cape remained neatly wrapped around his fists.

Your eyes widened with enthusiasm and you wanted to shuffle closer to him, but once you pushed yourself up on your knees, you felt a tight grip around your forearms.

Chris pulled you back with force, "Arms up, darling" he chuckled. He didn't even give you a chance to follow his directions, as he yanked your top over your head in an instant and unclasped your bra before leaving your top half completely naked and exposed.

As he plopped down on the bed, Henry came up to you and forced your hands up, using his cape to tie your wrists to the bedpost. His face was hovering inches above yours, and you licked your lips before pushing yourself up to kiss his jawline.

"The hell's gotten into you, hm?" he groaned, tightening the knot. When he looked down, he seemed amused, kind of at the edge between disbelief and satisfaction, as if he actually wished you'd push his buttons. As if he was waiting for you to dig your own grave. "You aren't usually like this"

"Had a great day, that's all" you grinned as you literally met with the two of them approximately half an hour after you woke up. "Ready for it to get better"

"Is it, though-?" Chris laughed, fumbling with the button of your jeans before pulling them down your legs. Off with them also went your underwear, and then there you were, completely naked in front of them, hands tied above your head. "-going to get better, I mean" Chris added, rubbing his hands up and down your thighs.

"I think-" you began answering but Henry stopped you as he gripped your chin.

"Stop talking back, love" he threatened, "Don't you think you said enough today? Look where it's gotten you"

You studied his expression with big, curious eyes, your bottom lip consciously trembling as you muttered a soft excuse. You knew not taking him seriously would get you into even more trouble, but that's what you were all about.

Henry chuckled. Keeping his glare trained on yours he pushed himself up. His big hands found your thighs and forced your legs apart. 

With this new, sudden change in position, your eyes landed on Chris who looked down at you as if you were his prey. He had a bottle of beer in his hand, taking small sips as he stood back, allowing Henry to do his part. Even if he wasn't yet taking part first hand in this whole charade, he was ever so obviously still enjoying the show. 

You squirmed under their dominating stares, feeling every inch of your body burn with excitement and traces of actual embarrassment that did absolutely nothing other than turn you on even further.

"You know you fucked up, right?" Chris taunted before taking another sip of his beer. His hand reached to cup your thigh, moving it further up until his fingers got dangerously close to your bare pussy. "I mean you're all good in my book, but that's not how things work"

"It could be" you whined.

By now, it should have been clear that talking back was never an option. Chris just smiled sympathetically while Henry clearly showed he wasn't going to have you keep this attitude much longer. He shuffled to the side, responding to your comment with a sharp slap against your bare cunt. "What did you just say?"

The impact made you instinctively gather your legs together but he was quick to stop you. Henry forced your thighs apart again, his thick fingers pushing past your folds just enough to get you to get on alert. 

Your eyes snapped to Chris. You never thought of things like this, but just about now, having him on your side seemed like the best idea. Your stomach was tightening from the nerves building up inside your core and you needed his reassurance. 

"I'm sorry, doll-" he cocked his head to the side as you watched him, your eyes begging him to stand with you, "You know I'm always here for you, but breaking you is just too much fun, I'm sorry"

"Asshole" you rolled your eyes and regretted it even before Henry delivered another slap against your clit. You cried out and your muscles clenched against your will, your knees bending in a pathetic attempt to curl yourself into a ball.

"Come on, darling" Henry scoffed, easily handling your tantrum and forcing your legs back down, wide open for them. "You're only making this harder. Calm down, take your punishment and then maybe you'll get something in return"

"Ok-" you muttered, shame taking over your senses. 

"Ok, what?" Henry pushed and Chris shook his head in disbelief at how unwilling you were to follow your usual instructions.

"Ok, daddy-" you muttered, avoiding their eyes, "I'm sorry I-"

"Little girl-" Henry sighed, sinking two fingers into your dripping pussy, "Already apologising? Where did that attitude go? Your punishment didn't even start yet"

"Fuck" you cried.

Despite knowing it wasn't a good idea, you rocked your hips along his fingers. Deciding to let you play along, Henry pressed his thumb against your clit, applying that minimal amount of pleasure he knew would have you hollering. 

And when you moaned for the first time, he stopped. He stopped completely and retracted his hand, leaving you craving his touch. Again, you felt exposed and it only translated into a painful sensation deep inside your belly. 

Arching your back as a whine escaped your lips, you squeezed your eyes shut, "Come on!! Please-"

"Not yet, angel" Henry countered, spreading your legs again.

As he held one of your thighs, Chris grabbed the other one, both their hands gripping your flesh hard enough to bruise. You already whimpered in pain, but when the real round of slapping began you felt like your throat would eventually cave.

"Cry if you have to, angel. Just be a good girl" Henry taunted.

You struggled against their hold with each blow delivered to your sensitive pussy, crying out and begging for them to stop. You never did try to count, so you had no idea how long it took, as when he stopped, you fell down into the mattress, the pain dissipating into a burning sensation across your legs.

"Easy there-" Henry cooed, his big hand cupping your cunt, gently rubbing the sensitive skin he had just abused.

Tears rolled down your temples as you failed to calm down your breathing. "Fuck, ok, I get it-" you sniffled, turning your head around to hide your face into your shoulder, "I'm sorry, please. I'm sorry"

"Look at me, pet" Henry commanded, softly guiding your chin in order to uncover your face, "Don't hide from us. You're so beautiful crying like that, you have no idea"

A new fresh wave of tears streamed from your eyes, "Th-thank you..."

Ever so softly, Chris moved your thighs, separating them again. He kneeled between your legs, lowering himself until you could feel his breath against your folds. "Breathe, pet-" he cooed, pressing a lingering kiss to your clit.

Involuntarily, you flinched, your hips bucking. "Easy, baby-" Chris said barely above a whisper, placing a hand on your tummy to push you back down, "Relax for me, ok?" 

He swiped his tongue along your folds, forcing you to suck a deep breath, "You good?" Henry asked, his hand exploring your naked chest.

You nodded up at him.

"We barely started, ok?" Chris said, pushing himself up, "You'll be a good girl for us?"

"Yes" you nodded with eagerness.

"Full sentences-" Henry nudged, lovingly caressing your abdomen, "I know it can be a lot for you, take your time"

You swallowed deeply, "Yes.. yes, I will be a good girl for you"

"Good" he cooed, leaning down. You pushed yourself up to meet his lips, but he stopped midway, tapping your chin, "Open up, baby"

Slowly, your jaw lowered, as you stared up at him, big awaiting eyes and mouth wide open.

And he made you wait, finally sending you a lewd grin before spitting on your tongue. You felt it dribble down towards the back of your throat before you swallowed proudly. You wanted to open your mouth again, but he hurried to distance himself from you.

With a harsh slap against your tits, he pushed himself up. Henry grabbed your thighs, gathering your knees together. He pulled your legs up until your hips lifted from the bed and your upper back supported most of your weight, your knees close to your chest.

"Such a beautiful pussy" Chris chimed in, his face inches away from your opening.

Never in your life had you felt this exposed and humiliated, but you swallowed your pride and remained motionless, not wanting to get on their bad side again.

"Are you ready?" Henry asked.

"For- for what?" you panicked.

"Wrong answer" he scoffed, slapping your ass. You yelped in pain and wiggled in his hold, but he didn't stop. He spanked your ass again, and again, and again, his palm hitting the bare skin off your cheeks, pussy and asshole. "Try again, little girl."

"I- I'm… I'm ready" 

"See?" Chris beamed, spitting on your pussy. You felt it run down your folds until it reached your ass. "That's the kind of slut we want. One that says yes without even knowing what we're talking about"

"Come on" Henry huffed, slapping your cunt one more time before letting your body back down on the mattress again. He moved up along your frame and undid your hands. 

You were eager to relax your shoulders and to feel the blood flow through your arms again, but as soon as he released you from the bedpost, he brought your wrists together, tying them up again. "I wish I didn't have to keep you restrained like this, but how can I know what goes through that dumb little head of yours?"

You shook your head no, trying to tell him you were actually planning on doing anything stupid, but Chris understood something else completely.

"Nothing goes through that pretty head?" he laughed, and Henry couldn't help but chuckle along.

Embarrassed, you hid your face and looked down.

"Don't be like that, baby-" Chris added, bending down over your body to caress your cheek, "You know we're right. You don't need to be ashamed, we like you like this"

His thumb rubbed along your bottom lip before he leaned down all the way and kissed you. His tongue barged into your mouth, dominating you completely as you barely managed to keep up with him. "A dumb little slut, crying for cock. That's what you are, aren't you?"

"Yes, daddy"

"Then why did you hide your face?"

"I- I don't know…" you mumbled.

"You know we keep you around just to fuck you, so I don't see why you'd get shy all of a sudden"

"I'm sorry-" you nodded, licking your lips, uselessly trying to moisten them. "I didn't get shy, I-"

"So you like being our fuck slut?"

"Yes"

"Just a set of holes for me and Cavill over here to cum in, right?" he questioned, before kissing your forehead. "Our beautiful, little girl" You smiled at the pet name and looked up expectantly. His gaze lowered and his expression became stern again. "Get on all fours, darling. Time to make yourself useful"

With every movement of your legs, your cunt ached more and more, but you followed his command and pushed yourself up. Once on your hands and knees, you saw them get into position too. Chris crawled behind you as Henry settled before you, his crotch inches away from your face.

Your mouth watered as you heard their zippers being undone, and looked at them in turn, unable to hide your enthusiasm. 

At this point, you were eager for whatever they'd throw at you. Being in that mind state always made everything better. You existed in a haze, a world of blur where it was just you and your daddys. You wiggled your ass expectantly and licked your lips with absolutely no worry. In your head it was perfect.

Your bubble was burst by a harsh tug at the roots of your hair as Henry turned your head so you'd look up at him. He fumbled with his cock, giving himself a few pumps.

Just watching him with big, excited eyes, you opened your mouth for him. He chuckled at your state of pure submission and placed his leaking tip on your tongue, your lips instantly closing around him.

At this point, he still allowed you to control your own movements as you did a satisfying enough job at bobbing your head on his cock. You sucked with determination, hollowing your cheeks and taking him as deep as you could without gagging.

Your exquisite performance was interrupted when you felt something big and round trail along your folds, your eyes snapping wide open when you felt it enter you. Chris pushed his cock in with a satisfying grunt, slapping your ass in the process.

"Fuck, yes!" he exclaimed, his massive member spreading your walls apart.

A lump formed in the back of your throat, the feeling of being filled to the prim, overwhelming you. You were aware your rigorous sucking turned into a pathetic excuse as soon as Chris started rocking your body back and forth along his dick, as now, no matter how hard you tried, you couldn't get your mind to focus.

Seemingly not at all bothered by your suddenly sloppy blow job performance, Henry tightened his hold around your roots, keeping your head in place as he started fucking your mouth.

The simple fact that at this point, all you had to do was stay there and take it, made it close to impossible to not lose yourself. As Chris picked up his pace, using your hips and maneuvering your body to fit his needs the right way, your pleasure started building up in the pit of your stomach.

"Come on, baby-" Henry called, "Ready to take good care of daddy?"

And he asked this just to mock you, as your mouth was full of cock and he wasn't about to let you take a break. You only blinked, hoping to send the message along, despite knowing he wasn't waiting for an answer.

He steadied his hold on your roots and then forced you down his cock, his tip barging in through your neck, completely blocking your air supply. You remained there, not fighting against his hold, as Chris continued slamming his cock balls deep into your pussy.

The momentum of his thrusts pushed you forward, the ever so soft movement of your neck making Henry grunt with pleasure every time your body rocked into him. And they kept going, using you from both angles to fit their desires.

When it got too much, you felt tears prickle at the corner of your eyes as you saw no way out. You whined against his cock, your throat violently constricting in hopes of getting some air.

"A bit more" Henry cooed, maintaining his hold as you squirmed against it.

"Holy fuck-" Chris belted, both his palms relasing your hips only to be able to slap your ass harshly. "That's right, clench that pussy. Should fucking choke you more often when you're on my dick"

All you could do was whimper, forcing yourself to hold back cough after cough until you could no more. Tears streamed down your face as you started panicking, only then having Henry release you from his grip.

If he hadn't actually maintained his hold, you'd have crumbled into the mattress, a choking mess between their massive bodies. But Henry held on to you, pulling you up as Chris lowered his pace.

"Do you know how good you are, angel?" he asked, his thick British accent rolling off his tongue as exhaustion built up in his veins. 

You nodded weakly, and smiled with awe when he wiped your tears away with his thumb.

"I'd keep this mouth on my cock all the damn time if I could-" Henry added, his tone deep and loving despite the condescending note of his words. "Are you ready to go again?"

You whimpered a soft, "Yes-" voice so whiny that if you weren't so deep into sub space, you'd have cringed hearing yourself. "Please..."

Chris bent down over you, his sweaty chest pressing against your back as he wrapped his arms around your frame, his greedy hands coming to cup either of your breasts. He buried his face into your neck and then kissed along your shoulders. "Are you close, baby girl?" he asked, burying his cock deeper inside your belly, "You wanna cum on my cock?"

As you breathed out, you nodded a weak yes. A smile instantly reached the corners of your mouth as Chris found your clit. He rubbed slow, intricate circles around it, your pleasure translating into sobbing moans. "Now take Henry's cock inside that little mouth of yours, and when you're getting close, you give me a sign, yeah?"

"Ok" you panted, curious about what he must have had planned.

The curiosity swiftly left your mind as your eyes landed on Henry's dick again. He was close too, the amount of precum leaking out of his tip, giving away that fact. He allowed some of it to dribble onto your chin, lightly slapping your face before popping your mouth open.

Pressing your tongue flush against the underside of his cock, you fervently sucked away as Chris started picking up his pace again. As if you weren't already close to losing any kind of self control, the painful slaps he inflicted upon your ass drove you over the edge.

You maniacally wiggled your feet against the messy blankets, giving Chris the promised signal. 

Or at least you thought you gave it to him, as the next thing you felt was being pushed down along Henry's cock again. You took him deep down along your throat, moaning loudly against his member as an orgasm overwhelmed you. Tears of pleasure rolled down your cheeks as your body convulsed between them.

The sensation made your chest tighten and the lack of air started getting you dizzy. The electrifying feeling pulsed along your limbs, engulfing your middle in a sea of liquid fire. You didn't even feel the need to breathe as your mind rolled down a spiral of bliss. A whole white blur covered you as your brain stopped processing the information, too keen on sucking every last drop of pleasure from the orgasm you just received.

You were only pulled out of this trance when Henry pushed you off his cock, reality hitting you like ice cold water. You gasped for air, falling face first into the mattress, struggling to even breathe. 

Not that you cared at that point, but neither of them asked you to resume your position. Instead, they shuffled off the bed, and with a soft slap against your raised ass, called for your attention.

"Come here, little girl" Chris demanded.

That was not the kind of information you were able to process, so again, they had to do all the work. With a harsh grip on your upper arms, they effortlessly grabbed you and forced you to your knees between them. 

You looked up with what was probably the most obedient stare you had ever given them. You had two massive cocks hanging inches away from your face, and of course, your first instinct was to grab them as you popped your tongue out.

"No, kitten-" Henry laughed, petting your head and softly pushing you back. "Stay still"

And you did. Took a deep breath, finally feeling the engines inside your brain resuming their work. All your senses came back to you and it was as if you had been in a dream. Still, the excitement of seeing both Henry and Chris pump their cocks inches away from your face was difficult to contain.

"You swallow all, yeah?" Henry groaned, looking down at you with hooded, hungry eyes. "Don't use your hands. Use that slutty tongue"

Soon, hot cum started erupting from his tip, most of it landing directly into your mouth. Each time you swallowed you bobbed your head, proudly smiling up at them at the great job you were doing. 

"Good girl" he muttered, his voice hoarse and out of tone.

All that changed when Chris grabbed your shoulder. He growled out loud as his orgasm reached him, and he threw his head back, still furiously pumping his cock into his fist.

"Holy mother of - fuck - !"

You did your best to get as much as you could inside your mouth, but your cheeks were a mess, your tongue only managing to spread their cum more than actually lick it off. 

When they were both done, Chris helped you up as Henry kissed your forehead before walking out of the room without another word. The blonde cradled you to his chest, heaving as he held you.

"Such a good, little angel" he whispered into your ear. He was still panting, his hands clammy against your back, but he pushed through, focusing his energy on reassuring and soothing you.

"How are you, baby? Talk to me a bit" Chris pleaded, rubbing your cheek, "I wanna see those eyes"

As if every muscle contraction took up too much energy, you barely managed to look up at him, the most innocent of looks in your eyes. "I'm feeling really good" you sighed, leaning back against his chest.

"Good-" he laughed, his whole frame shaking as he hugged you closer, "Does anything hurt?"

"Everything" you giggled.

"Ok-" he sighed, accepting his defeat, "I'll ask again after we shower. You're all fucked out now"

"I like that" you mumbled as you all but drooled on him, sleep starting to envelop you.

"Would have been worried if you didn't"

Again, despite your direct state, you couldn't help but laugh with him. You softly pushed yourself up to plant a kiss against his naked chest.

Chris rubbed the back of your head as you did so.

"Hey-" Henry called as he walked into the room, but neither you nor Chris bothered to do anything else other than look in his direction. None of you moved. "Just a ran a bath-" Henry added, pointing to the bathroom, "Please don't fall asleep"

Chris helped you up and you wobbled your way across the room. "I'll go downstairs and shower" he said.

"You never wanna join us" you pouted.

"Just not really big on baths, that's all" Chris reassured you and then made his way out of the room.

After that, another wave of bliss followed. Another kind however. Henry washed every inch of your body, his careful hands caressing every dip and curve your frame. His lips were mostly on yours as he did so, never missing a chance to bring you even closer.

"Thank you" you mumbled, leaning against the marble wall as you watched him soap his broad chest.

Henry cluelessly raised his eyebrows, the movement of his hands slowing down as he waited for you to continue.

"For helping me wash up" you smiled, "You always do, but still. Thanks"

"No problem, darling" Henry nodded, gathering you closer again, and kissing your forehead. He got soap all over you again, and didn't even try to hide the fact that he loved having to help you rinse again.

A short while later, probably about 20 minutes or so, it was again the three of you, back in bed. You were laying between them. Judging by the light snores that danced off his lips and the peaceful way his chest rose and fell, Chris must have fallen asleep long before you and Henry finished showering. The sun started descending from the sky and the orange light in the room painted the perfect picture.

You cuddled into Henry's side, feeling your heart tickle the inside of your chest when he reciprocated the gesture. His warm breath graced the skin of your forehead as he gave you a longing kiss, barely even bothering to pull back before settling for a deep sleep.

You drifted off, content and with a smile on your lips, elated with what the day brought so far, and bubbling with anticipation for whatever surprises it might still have hidden.

By the time you woke up, fully rested, the sun was already sinking low behind the horizon, a red, tainted sky following in its footsteps. Extracting yourself from Henry's bear hold turned out to be much more than you expected, his reluctance to let you go, even in his sleep, making you giggle.

"How are you, sweetheart?" Chris asked, his voice a fresh tingle to your ears.

"Good-" you sighed, settling to lay down just a bit more. You kissed Henry's bicep as it spawned all across your chest, action which made him pull you even closer. "What time is it?"

"A bit past 6" Chris answered, rolling onto his side to face you. His shoulders slumped together making his chest stand out, but before you got a chance to take in the view, he cluelessly pulled up the covers all the way up to his nose. "Got any plans?"

"Yeah" you nodded, trying Henry's arm again, but he refused to budge once again. "I told you guys"

For a few seconds, Chris looked at you amused, and with a shake of his head, he grabbed Henry's hand, shaking him awake. "Wake up, buddy. Y/n's gotta get ready"

"No" Henry croaked, his light scruff tickling the back of your neck. 

To be fair, you were excited for your plans, but in a way, your heart broke thinking about leaving that bed. Eventually you did, the cold of the room clinging to your body in an instant.

You shivered your way to the bathroom, quickly washing up before returning to the bedroom. The scenery hadn't changed at all, the two men still lingering at the edge between dream and reality, their phone screens perfectly accentuating their lazy expressions.

Swiftly making your way past the bed, you slapped the light switch on, the warm light of your candelabra flooding room, much to their simultaneous dismay. "Why- just no, turn it off-"

"Yeah, sure-" you sarcastically responded, stepping past the ruined superman costume on the floor, and opening the closet doors. You grabbed a pair of underwear and stepped inside it, before rummaging for your favorite bra. "I'll just get ready in a pitch black room. Of course"

None of them was impressed.

"Who are you seeing anyway?" Chris questioned. 

You smiled innocently despite doing your best not to, and then turned to face them. "Sebastian"

"What" Henry gawked, sitting up in an instant, his frown taking over the previous sweetness of his features.

"What do you mean what?" 

"Yeah, haven't you two-" Chris began speaking but Henry cut him off with absolutely no remorse.

"You haven't seen each other in two weeks. I thought that was done for"

As you finally found your bra, you slipped your arms under its straps and pulled them up your shoulders. "We haven't seen each other because he's been visiting his family. We kept talking"

"Talking?" Henry raised an eyebrow. 

"Yeah we-" you sighed and then stopped. "Why are you acting like this? This is nothing new"

"I just-" Henry tripped over his words, shaking his head at the awkwardness he brought to the table. "I don't know, I'm sorry. I just didn't know it was that serious yet, that's all"

"It's not" you said, walking over to your makeup table and sitting down on the small, velvet chair. "We wouldn't be here if it was, would we?"

"I don't know, hun" Chris huffed, lazily slipping out of the bed. The way he walked made it look as if every muscle contraction pained him, leaning from side to side as he close to crawled his way to the bathroom. 

In the process, you caught sight of his naked body in the reflection in your mirror, catching everything from his tattooed chest, to his massive thighs and still impressive cock.

"He's a great guy. I hope things work out if you decide he's the one for you"

"Is he?" Henry chirped, making you turn to him, a thick layer of concealer that still had to be blended, smudged under your eyes.

"We said we're taking things slow, you know this" you sighed, waving your brush around, "We're not exclusive. We're not a couple. We're just- I don't know, dipping our toes. We don't wanna fuck this up."

"Then why are you here with us?"

Perhaps the words slipped past Henry's lips a bit too harshly. You did not expect that. Not from him.

"Uh-" you muttered, feeling cornered, "Listen, he's just one of my best friends. And I really like him, I never lied to him. He knows about you two. We're just-" and then you stopped again, dropping your sentence as your brows furrowed above a pointed look. "Since we started this thing, you both have slept with other people and I never said anything about it. But now that I actually find someone I like, you act like I've committed a crime. Why are you allowed to-"

"Ok, I'm sorry" Henry jumped to stop you, clumsily leaving the bed and padding over to you. "That was incredibly rude of me, I'm sorry"

"What's up?" you asked sweetly, dearly wanting to help ease the pain that upclose was so clearly visible behind his sad, blue eyes. 

And he hesitated, his eyes snapping to the window behind you before he licked his lips. "I just got comfortable, that's all. I care about you a lot, and I'll miss your sweet little body but if he makes you happy, I'll happily trade our encounters for... coffee dates?"

"Thank you, Henry-" you giggled, warming up at his sudden and sincere confession.

He kissed your forehead, the epitome of love gestures. His lips quivered, and brushed against your skin a few times before allowing you to finish getting ready.

Time had flown unreasonably fast, and in a matter of seconds, you found yourself running around the room, blazing through the last steps of your process, despite it not being neither tedious nor elaborated. To be fair, Sebastian was the only man in your life who you never tried to impress with your looks.

You felt appreciated and understood in his presence. He smiled when you talked and pecked your lips every chance he got. He was your friend before anything else, and regardless of the harsh reality you lived in, the status of your relationship changing was what you craved the most. He made you open up without even trying, his sense of stability and unconditional acceptance making you end up on his doorstep, dressed in just a hoodie and jeans, a bottle of wine in tow, ready to just kick back and feel your ultimate best.

For whatever reason, your heart started banging uncontrollably against your ribcage as soon as you knocked. When you heard the lock turn, your knees weakened.

He sprung the door open, welcoming you with open arms. You just took a step in and threw yourself against his chest, your cheek pressing against his shoulder as he brought you closer.

The fresh smell of his aftershave reached your senses, and you rubbed your nose against his perfectly soft jaw line. "You shaved," you smiled, knowing just how much he hated to do so when it wasn't absolutely necessary. 

"Thought it was about time" Sebastian laughed, his right arm still tight around your back as he leaned to the side to close the door.

You only then realised you didn't even bother to put your bag down, take your shoes off or even say hello before going in for a hug. You felt your cheeks burn at the realisation, but he did not seem to mind at all.

"Come on, make yourself comfortable," Sebastian said, starting to advance further into his apartment. You took off your shoes, and just when you were about to enter the living room, the delicious smell of basil stopped you and made you turn around.

You headed into the kitchen, your eyes landing on his tall frame, his back facing you as he stirred something on the stove. 

"You're cooking?" you asked, whiny with admiration and awe.

"Yes" he beamed, turning around. Only then did you notice what he was wearing. His usual black jeans and socks, but he had ditched his trademark sweaters, opting for an elegant button up instead. The sleeves were rolled up around his elbows, and he rocked a pair of fluffy house slippers, red with blue stripes, not fitting his attire in any way, shape or form.

You placed the wine bottle on the counter, and approached him cautiously. "What- um, what are you making?"

You felt bad, ungrateful and undressed. Where were his pajamas and the take out he always ordered? Did you miss something?

"There's this amazing spaghetti recipe I learned from my mum" he grinned proudly, eyeing the multitude of ingredients laid out all across the table. "It's not traditional or anything. She perfected the recipe over the years and you just have to try it"

"Smells delicious already" you giggled, looking around the kitchen.

The atmosphere was soft and warm, the lights were dimmed and slow blues tunes were playing in the background. It was nothing like you were used to.

You offered to help, but he insisted on finishing up alone. You always washed his dishes because he absolutely hated doing it, and you were also the one who always put his leftovers in the fridge, as he always forgot them on the table, cluelessly letting them spoil. It felt only natural to do so right now, so you made your way to the sink, and waited for the water to heat up.

"Stop" Sebastian laughed, coming up beside you to turn the faucet off. "Just relax for once, please" he begged, his hands on your waist effortlessly turning you around.

Your lower back pressed against the edge of the sink as he caged you in, his eyes warm and ambitious, boring into yours.

"I just want to help" you smiled.

"Not now" he shook his head, "We'll clean up later. Or tomorrow"

His words caused a lump to grow inside your throat, your lips involuntarily parting in surprise. You never spent the night at his apartment, and fervid anticipation started to surge through you.

"What’s going on?" you asked, cupping his cheek.

Sebastian leaned into your touch, his eyes all but fluttering closed. "Nothing. Why?"

As he spoke, he grabbed your wrist into his hand and brought your palm to his lips, kissing your soft skin as his eyes awaited your answer.

"I don't know…" you mumbled, feeling yourself melt. He was too close, too attentive and too focused on you, it felt so difficult to breathe. "Don't get me wrong, please. I absolutely love everything you did. But this is new. We never did anything like this before, what changed?"

"Is it bad?" he cautiously asked, planting his hands on the counter on either side of your hips. "That I want things to change between us?"

Your heart swelled. All the signs pointed in the right direction, but his words still managed to get your adrenaline going. "Change… how?" 

As soon as you spoke, you felt like throwing up. You couldn't help but wonder how dumb could you have been, to ask something like this. As if it wasn't obvious, but your brain was too busy drowning in excitement to actually allow you form any coherent thoughts.

"I mean-" he hesitated, his confidence shaking a bit. He looked to the side, licked his lips and then playfully rolled his eyes as the corners of his lips turned upwards, showing you that perfect smile you loved so much. "While I was visiting my family, I couldn’t stop thinking about you. My mom just couldn’t understand why I didn’t bring you along. I don't just want you for a date a week and a kiss after we drank enough wine. I needed that time apart to gather the courage to make the first step" he confessed. "I really fucking like you. I want all of you"

"Oh-" you froze.

"Please-" Sebastian whispered, gently tilting your chin up. "Tell me now if you want me to back off, because I'm really struggling to not kiss you right now"

As much as you wanted to tell him to do it, you refrained from doing so. Instead, you just grinned up at him, your eyes sparking with lustful temptation. He watched you closely, and when he figured out your play, he shook his head in disbelief for the briefest second. 

Following that, there was no awkwardness left. He engulfed your lips into the most passionate kiss. His tongue pathetically begged for permission, which you didn't hesitate to give. He explored your mouth as if it was the sweetest thing he ever tasted, kissed you deeply, moaning against your lips as his hands hazardously roamed your body. No matter what you did, you felt like you couldn't get close enough. You clung onto him, fisting the delicate material of his shirt into your hands, desperately trying to gather him against you. 

Sebastian was the one to break the moment, grabbing your cheeks as he pulled back. His lips were wet and slightly swollen, as he ruggedly breathed out against your skin. "So?"

"So, what?" you teased.

"Come on" he whined, kissing you again, this time more aggravated and determined. "Can we do this? Do you want it?"

"Are we going all out? Real couple? Exclusive, all strings attached kind of thing?" you beamed with excitement and so did he, hearing you.

"If you want to," Sebastian nodded. "I don't want to pressure you, but I'm crazy about you"

"You're not pressuring me. I adore you, Seb. I'm all yours"

"What did you just say?" he smirked, kissing your lips and moving down along your jawline, "That you're all mine? Pretty sure I've never heard anything more beautiful in my whole life"

"Well, you'd better get used to it" you giggled.

And the goodness kept coming. You ate and god, how grateful were for his mum's recipe, it was simple, delicious and it tasted like home. Sebastian refused to tell you how to make it just so he could be your personal chef and cook it for you any time you wanted.

You cleaned the kitchen together, ate cake until the button of your jeans threatened to burst, and then settled on the couch, drinking red wine while scrolling through Netflix. 

As ethereal as everything was, there was still a weight pressing down on your shoulders. You didn't want your relationship to start with you already hiding things from him, so you decided there was a conversation that really needed to be had.

"Sebastian?" you asked softly, grabbing his upper arm and squeezing lightly in order to get his attention.

"Yes, doll?" he hummed, a little bit distraught, before returning to search through the channels.

"Can you look at me a bit?" you muttered, "I wanna talk to you about something"

It was then he realised you were serious. Without question, he turned the TV off and leaned back on the couch, his slightly concerned eyes studying your features. "Are you ok?"

"Yes" you giggled and he visibly relaxed.

"Did I-"

"You didn't do anything!" you stopped him again, leaning down to kiss his lips. He was happy to reciprocate, but you didn't allow things to escalate. "I want to talk about something, and -" you cringed, your palms watering, "And I totally understand if it'll chance the way you see things"

"What are you talking about?"

He was rubbing your thigh, visibly growing impatient. But he allowed you to speak at your own pace.

"Um… you remember a while ago, I told you I was in that kind of a friends with benefits relationship?"

"Yeah" he nodded, "What about-"

"It is obviously over now that we took things to the next step, but these are my best friends we're talking about here. I just... couldn't help but wonder... I don't know… I feel like it wasn't fair to you.. considering how that went on until very very recently and-"

"Babe?" Sebastian stopped you, his voice soft and eyes even more so, "What are you trying to say? Did you think I'd be mad because you had sex before being in a relationship with me?"

"Huh" you gawked, "When you put it like that, it sounds really fucking stupid"

"I'm sorry, Y/n, but it kind of is" he laughed, shaking his head, "You're a free woman, you can do whatever you want. You don't have to explain yourself to me, especially when it comes to things like this"

"So you.. don't mind me seeing them again? Like friends, of course!"

He frowned a bit, scratching the back of his head. "I trust you, ok? I like to think that you wouldn't have been here with me if you had any feelings for any of them."

"Thank you"

"Come here-" Sebastian urged you, eager to bring you close against his chest again. He rubbed your back and rested his head on top of yours, "I really appreciate you telling me this. It was bugging you, and I'm glad you trusted me enough to tell me"

"I was worried it would be sitting in the back of your mind and you would feel uncomfortable bringing it up. I felt like I had to, like I owed you that much since you were so understanding with this thing from the beginning-"

"You don't owe me anything ok? I don't care what you did in the past, that's your business. I care what you do now, here, with me. And I might be blindly in love, but I doubt I have any reasons to worry"

"You really don't" you mumbled, settling into his lap and wrapping your arms around his neck, "I'm so happy to be here with you, I don't want anything else"

"Me neither, doll, me neither" he sighed, kissing your temple and bringing you closer.

The night ended relatively early. If you were in love with him at the beginning of the evening, now you were head over heels. You fell asleep cuddling, and you had never felt so loved before. Deep down inside, you regretted not allowing things to escalate, but sleeping with him so soon after your last encounter with Henry and Chris just didn't feel right. And of course he understood. The awe and respect for you was visible in his eyes when you explained what was holding you back. That night you slept better than you had in weeks.

The next morning, you left quite early, both of you having your schedules quite full. When you entered your apartment it was quiet and dark, and you couldn't help but smile bitterly at the memories from the day before.

You made your way to the kitchen, and stopped dead in your tracks when you saw a pink bag and a piece of paper right by its side. It didn't take long until you eyed the donuts inside the bag, but you didn't pay too much attention to them as you picked up the letter beside it and read it over.

"Hey, Y/n,

The reason I wrote you this is because I didn't want to interrupt your date, but this has to be said, you deserve that much. I can't lie and say that last night I didn't stay here until 3am hoping you'd come back. It's awful of me, I know, but I really hoped your date would go horribly wrong and that you'd come home early. It's not that I don't want you to be happy… I just wish it wasn't with him. And again, I can't lie and say that I didn't drop by in the morning. I brought you those donuts you love so much, but you weren't here. It was absolutely unfair of me, I know, but during these last few months, I fell in love with you. I know I should've told you before, and I hope you don't think I'm saying this now to burst your bubble. The reason I'm doing this is because you deserve an explanation. I'm sorry, but I can't be around you right now. I need to get you out of my head, and seeing you now, would only make it more difficult. Please don't reach out, you'll only pull me back in. I love you too much, I need some time away to screw my head back on. I'd be lying if I said I won't be waiting for you. Even if I won't actively/purposely do it, I can't imagine a day when I won't jump if you told me to. Please, don't think I'm doing this to hurt you, you're my favorite person in the whole wide world. I will always love you. I wish you and Sebastian the absolute best. This is difficult for me to say, but I hope he is everything you ever wanted. I hope he'll make you happy and treat you like the angel you are. This isn't goodbye or the end of our friendship, it's just me needing to step back. I wish you the best, god knows you deserve it!

PS: I replaced your superman costume, I know you begged me for weeks to give you one, and I ruined it yesterday. I had a spare one at home, it's on your bed now. I hope you don't mind I took the old one with me… you know? Memories...

All my love,

Your Henry"

[darthfrodophantom]

Ectoberhaunt Day 5: Ouija Board

Summary: To get into the spooky season spirit, Tucker and Sam convince Danny to play a video game late at night, and Danny isn’t pleased about the subject of the video game.

https://archiveofourown.org/works/34303123 

Too Close to Home

“Let me get this straight,” Danny interrupted. “I fight ghosts - real ghosts - on a nightly basis. And now that I actually have a free night you want to take up the time that I should be sleeping to fight fake ghosts?”

He shook his head as he looked at his computer screen, the only light in his entire bedroom aside from the digital clock that showed the hour: 11:45. From the first-person view of the computer game on his screen, he watched the avatars of both of his friends attempt to throw basketballs into a hoop.

“But this is way more fun,” Tucker’s voice said over Danny’s headset. “And it hurts a lot less! Ah! Dang it Sam - you messed up my throw!”

Sam cackled triumphantly. “Better pay more attention to your timing then.”

Tucker groaned as his avatar abandoned the basketball for spray paint cans, which he chucked at Sam. “Besides Danny, we’re not fighting ghosts: we’re hunting them.”

“Fine, fight, hunt, whatever. I still do both of them,” Danny argued.

“Not like this you don’t,” Tucker grinned. “God he’s gonna get creamed.”

“You know Danny, maybe we should let you go to bed. You’re gonna ruin my perfect streak,” Sam teased.

Danny rolled his eyes. “Or maybe you’ll actually do better because you have a true ghost hunting professional on the team,” he defended. He had no idea why he was bragging - he’d just been given an out and given the late hour he should take it, but now it felt like he needed to defend his pride as a ghost hunter. …That thought sounded a little too similar to something his parents would say and he quickly dismissed it. “Besides, I played the tutorial, I know what I’m doing. I’m just trying to figure out why we’re doing this.”

“Because it’s spooky season,” Tucker replied with a hint of sarcasm.

“We are only five days into October, Tucker, and if you’re gonna keep doing this all month I am going to hit you with the Fenton Anti-Creep Stick,” Sam threatened.

“I dunno, it might be worth it,” Tucker teased. “What do you think Danny?”

Danny shook his head, even though none of them could see it. “As the only person in this group who has actually been hit by the Fenton Anti-Creep Stick, I would back off,” he advised.

“Listen to Danny Tucker,” Sam chuckled as her avatar walked over to the white board to set up the hunt. “He’s actually speaking wisdom for once. Now come over here and pick out your gear.”

The playful teasing between best friends stopped as they actually got serious and picked out the gear they would need for their mission. Since Danny had no money, he couldn’t really participate in the conversation, but it seemed like Tucker and Sam had played this enough to know what they needed to bring. Sam started the mission, and their avatars found themselves inside the trailer looking at another whiteboard.

“Alright, looks like our ghost is named Thomas Clark and he responds to all of us,” Sam informed the group while Tucker’s avatar walked over to the shelves to equip supplies.

“Well that’s a dumb name for a ghost,” Danny complained as he looked at the bulletin board next to the computer. He had to squint at his screen to read them, but the articles were fairly legible and contained ghost stories he remembered hearing his parents talk about. It also had a recent article that he actually remembered running in USA Today proclaiming Amity Park as the most haunted city in the world - he didn’t know whether to feel proud or annoyed.

“Yeah, you’re right,” Sam agreed, though her voice was laced with sarcasm. “He should have gone with Thomas Phantom instead.”

Danny rolled his eyes as Tucker burst out laughing. “Oh yeah, now that sounds like a proper ghost,” Tucker added between laughs.

“I knew I was going to hate this,” Danny groaned under his breath. “Can we just get this over with?”

Sam’s avatar turned to face the new whiteboard. “Alright, fine. Objective one: find out what kind of ghost we’re dealing with - standard. Objective two: witness a ghost event.”

“I am a ghost event,” Danny smirked, causing Tucker to burst out laughing again.

“Objective three,” Sam snapped, “capture a photo of the ghost.”

Tucker’s avatar grabbed a camera and snapped a picture of Danny’s avatar. “Got one!” he proclaimed, which drove both boys into laughter.

“Objective four,” Sam said louder, “get a ghost to walk through salt.”

“What? That’s dumb. Everyone knows that’s an old wive’s tale,” Danny complained as he shook his head. Did the creators of this game actually do any real research before they made this game?

“Are you regretting this yet Sam?” Tucker asked as he finally stopped laughing.

“Let’s just get in the house,” she groaned. Danny smirked in triumph, and he could tell Tucker was sharing a similar smirk on his end.

They divided up equipment between the three of them, but not before Danny could comment on the inaccuracies of each of the pieces of equipment and how useless they’d be in an actual ghost fight. From faulty science to just being plain incorrect, Danny made sure to have pithy comments about all the equipment. He didn’t know why it bothered him so much that it had to be accurate - he was not his parents - but as a ghost and a ghost hunter, it just felt a little more personal than he wanted to admit.

Because he was the newest one, Danny got stuck with the Spirit Book (“What? Are they trying to imply all ghosts can’t write? That’s alivist!”) and the EMF Reader (“...Okay that one’s actually accurate”) because they were apparently the easiest to use. Laden down with their gear they walked up to the small house. Sam’s avatar unlocked the door and they headed inside. Danny noticed the tonal shift immediately. Outside he could hear wind and crickets chirping, but once he stepped inside the doorway, an oppressive silence covered his headphones. It reminded him of the sensation on a pressurised airplane and it unnerved and unsettled him...a lot more than he planned to admit to his friends.

“Alright, spread out,” Sam instructed. “See if you can find the ghost room.”

Ghost room, right. He remembered that from the tutorial. It had been the garage in the tutorial, so he figured he should start there. He walked back through the dark house, turning lights on as he went. It wasn’t because he was scared - absolutely not, he was a real ghost hunter! - it was just much easier to see. He pulled out the EMF reader and walked into the garage. It had an eerie quality to it, and he couldn’t tell if it was because he remembered seeing the ghost there last time (a mean looking (and inaccurate) ghost covered in blood and holding an axe) or if it was because he was alone and the room was so large, but he did not like being in here.

“You know, in the tutorial, the ghost was a bloody axe-man,” Danny remarked over the walkie talkie.

“Yeah, I think he’s standard in the tutorial,” Sam remarked offhand. He did not want to admit how good it felt to hear her voice in the oppressive silence of the house. They were clearly focused on their tasks, and that was a good thing, but it felt a lot better hearing their voices.

“Red blood,” he continued, simply to trigger more conversation. He didn’t get any EMF readings, so he gratefully left the garage. “Not ectoplasm. It’s like they didn’t even try.”

“Ugh, Danny, they’re going for a horror aesthetic, not something real,” Sam sighed.

“What? Ectoplasm-stains are horrifying,” he countered as he walked through the rest of the first story. Still no EMF readings.

“Only when it’s yours,” Sam said, and the weight of those words echoed in the silence of the house that made him stop moving for a moment. “No cold spots upstairs,” Sam informed them to break the silence.

“Yeah, no EMF downstairs,” Danny added. “I’m gonna check out the basement.” That’s where they loved to hang out in the real world, so it seemed the next best choice.

“Oh hang on, if you’re going down there I’ll go with you,” Tucker spoke up.

Danny stopped halfway down the stairs. “It’s fine, I’m pretty used to basements,” he joked weaky.

“Yeah, well the last time you went into a basement alone with untested ghost equipment you died.” Tucker said it light-heartedly as a joke, and it was one they’d said a bunch of times before, but somehow it just didn’t feel the same in this tense environment. It felt too...personal.

He waited for Tucker’s avatar to appear before they walked down the stairs together into the basement. Unlike Sam’s basement or his own, this basement had a much creepier feel to it, with the foreboding worn brick walls and discolored cement flooring. Honestly he was glad Tucker went down there with him because it just felt better having another person there.

“Sam, maybe you should get down here with the thermometer,” Tucker mentioned as they both walked through the basement. “Because we’re not--”

Danny whirled around as he heard something thud hard against the ground behind him while he jumped in his chair. The EMF reader in his hand jumped up to three dots and blared at them while he stared at a box of tools now on the ground. The ghost was clearly in the room. Danny half-expected his ghost sense to go off, but he had to remind himself it was just a video game. There wasn’t actually a ghost here.

“What happened?” Sam’s urgent voice said over the walkies.

“Ghost knocked something off the shelf down here,” Tucker said as his avatar walked over to the toolbox. “Ooh! We’ve got fingerprints!” he cheered as his avatar shined a light on a glowing handprint.

“Oh that’s so not how that works,” Danny complained, just to help lighten the mood. Honestly he felt a bit jumpy knowing that the ghost was in the room...and he couldn’t sense him. He’d dealt with invisible ghosts before, but his ghost sense always gave him a vague idea of where they were...except for now. He turned in his chair to check the room behind him. No ghosts, no ghost sense. It’s just in the computer game.

“Figures that the ghost would be in the basement,” Sam remarked as her avatar walked down the stairs and opened her journal. Right! Journal. Danny opened his and placed their one piece of evidence inside. The sooner they got all of those the sooner they could leave, and he really liked that idea.

“I’m not seeing freezing temperatures, but it is a little cooler than the rest of the house,” she continued. “So let’s start setting stuff up in here. Tucker get the DOTS up and I’ll place the camera. Danny place the spirit book.”

Okay, this wasn’t so bad with the three of them in the room. He could hear them moving around and he could see them, so it made him feel a bit better. And there was still no sign of the ghost. He put the spirit book down near the toolbox and looked away from it. Maybe the ghost wouldn’t write in it while he was watching? He didn’t know.

“Ooh!” Tucker cried excitedly.

“Did you see it in the DOTS?” Sam asked.

“No - Ouija board! Oh yeah!” Tucker cheered. “Now we’re getting somewhere.”

“Oh I love these,” Sam agreed. Danny’s brow furrowed as he looked at the screen. Why were they acting so happy - didn’t they forget there was a ghost in this room with them?

“Hang on, let Danny try the Ouija board,” Tucker suggested. “You know, because he’s never seen it before.”

“Ooh good idea,” Sam agreed. Danny walked over to where they were and saw Sam’s avatar set down a light brown board.

“Yeah, I’m pretty sus about your motives right now,” Danny said. He had a bad feeling about this...

“No Danny, it’s fine. These are actually pretty cool in this game,” Sam assured him. She quickly explained how the Ouija boards worked in the game and what questions to ask, and against his better judgment, he walked over and activated the board. The numbers and letters glowed orange against the light color of the wood.

He decided to start with something easy, so he swallowed and forced his voice to come out clear. “How old are you?” He jumped in his chair and his avatar backed up quickly as the planchette moved across the letters.

“Y - O - U - N - G,” Tucker read. “A young ghost.”

“Oh God, I hope that doesn’t mean it’s the crawling baby ghost,” Sam sighed. “I really hate that one.”

“Ask it something else,” Tucker encouraged.

“I don’t know,” Danny hedged. For some reason the Ouija board set him on edge. Something deep in his gut did not like this. Even if it wasn’t real and he kept telling himself it wasn’t real, he didn’t like it.

“No dude, it’s okay,” he assured him. “You can ask two questions before a significant sanity drop. Just ask it one more and you can go back to the truck.”

He very much wanted to go back to the truck. He just needed a chance to regroup. He was a ghost and fought ghosts for a living and he could not understand why this game unnerved him so much. But Danny Phantom wasn’t scared of ghosts, any kind of ghosts, and he wasn’t about to show it on a video game. “Fine,” he groaned as he picked up the board again. “Who died?”

This time he knew what to expect, and didn’t jump as much as the planchette started moving. First to the D, then to the A. Over to the N, then looping back to the N. It ended on a Y.

All three of them stopped moving. The silence became even more deafening around them. Danny dropped the Ouija board and backed up as far as the game would let him. He felt a cold sweat drip down his back. Danny. It spelled Danny. How did it know his name?

“...That has got to be a coincidence,” Sam finally said after the silence that seemed to stretch on forever.

“The ghost’s name must be Danny,” Tucker suggested, voice full of forced bravado.

“...No it’s Thomas,” Sam said slowly. “It must just be reading your username to scare you,” she decided.

“No my...my username is GhostBoy,” Danny reminded them, finally feeling like he could speak.

“Is this game actually haunted? Danny, what did you do?” Tucker accused, voice bordering on hysterics.

“What? I didn’t do anything!” Danny yelled back. He could feel his heart pounding in his chest. He put a hand up to feel his breath - still normal temperature. He looked around his room. There wasn’t a ghost here. But how did it know his name? And that he did almost die in a basement? “You’re the one that told me to use it!”

“Okay, let’s just calm down,” Sam interrupted. “It’s gotta be a coincidence. Let me try it and see if it says the same thing or gives me my name. It could be a new update that checks the name on the Steam account or something.”

Sam moved closer to the board, but before she could touch it all their flashlights flickered.

“Shit!” Tucker yelled.

“Run!” Sam cried in a panic.

Danny followed them up the stairs to the main level. The idea of running from a ghost, not fighting it, was so foreign to him, but he had no choice. He was powerless here. No ghost powers, no weapons, no thermos. He was completely helpless against this ghost.

He bolted for the garage, the one other room he knew how to get to. Sam’s avatar was running next to him. He could hear footsteps behind him and he swore as he ran towards the garage. Sam diverted into another room, but he continued into the garage. He found a locker he’d opened before and rushed into it. He barely remembered to turn off his flashlight and he waited. Seconds passed and he realized he was holding his breath. No...not holding his breath. Not breathing. He looked down at his hands and saw the glowing white gloves. When...when did he change into his ghost form?

Sam’s voice over the walkie startled him. “What the--? Oh my G--” The walkie feed cut to static and then nothing.

“I...I think it got Sam,” Tucker’s voice said over the walkie. Danny turned on his flashlight and saw that it was no longer blinking. He threw his head back in relief. The hunt was over. He climbed back out of his locker, keeping the door open again just in case.

“Dude, she was running right next to me. It must have followed her instead of me,” Danny told him. “Ugh, well what are we going to do now? She’s the only one who knew what she was doing!”

“Wait, I thought you would be a pro because you’re a ‘professional ghost hunter’ - isn’t that what you kept saying?” Tucker teased.

“Yeah, well I lied! This is nothing like ghost hunting!” he argued as he walked out of the garage. He was going back to the trailer. “Real ghost hunters would bring some kind of weapon and wouldn’t just run around helpless! We should just call it.”

“What? No! We’ve got two more pieces of evidence to collect. And we haven’t done any of the objectives! Tucker retorted.

“Fine!” he snapped as he walked down the main hallway. “if you want to keep looking for clues you can, but I’m going back to the trailer to check--”

The front door slammed shut. His flashlight blinked again.

“Shit!” Tucker cried.

Danny could hear the footsteps behind him. He could feel a heart thumping in his headset. He started running off to a room but stopped. No, he was not running again. He was going to stare this ghost down and prove that Danny Phantom was not scared of some ghost. His image struck fear in the hearts of ghosts and his name carried respect in the Ghost Zone. He was not going to let some video game ghost get the better of him and spook him with some Ouija board trick.

He turned around to face it, camera at the ready. If he was going down, he was getting a picture of it. The ghost blinked in the hallway and Danny saw the cause of his anxiety for the first time. The ghost floated down the hallway, with white hair and a black and white jumpsuit. It...it was him. The ghost was Phantom.

He completely forgot to take a picture as his own image rushed at him. He saw two gloved hands cover over the screen and then everything went dark. He heard the crash of breaking glass, saw a strange underground cavern for a second, and then he was back in a foggy blue version of the house.

The ghost of Sam’s avatar approached him, and he heard her laughing over the headset. It sounded like she’d been laughing for awhile. “Oh my god Danny, did you see the ghost?” she asked between laughs.

“It...that was...oh my God,” he groaned. It all made sense. Spelling Danny was likely an Easter egg, a cute nod to his name of Danny Phantom. The fact that it happened in the basement was just a coincidence, because it’s a creepy spot and a commonly haunted area. He hadn’t summoned anything. He wasn’t being targeted by some ghost in the computer. It was just an Easter egg paying homage to him.

Suddenly all the stress left him and he laughed. God, it felt so good to laugh after all that panic. This game had gotten him so worked up and over what? Over a ghost that looked like himself? Suddenly it all seemed so silly that it scared him that much. He had felt actual dread and fear, enough to trigger an unconscious transformation out of a need to protect himself, but there weren’t actually any real consequences. Now he just got to walk around unhindered in this ghostly version of the house, but nothing else actually happened.

Sam laughed along with Danny. “So you did see it then?”

“It was...oh my god Sam it was me! It looked just like me!”

“I know!” she exclaimed. “As soon as I saw it I forgot to keep running and stared. So of course it killed me. I did get a picture though,” she bragged.

“Oh man. I meant to, but I was just too stunned.” Now that he felt much better, he decided to wander around the house following Tucker who, for some reason, was still trying to finish the level on his own.

Sam suspiciously stopped her laughing. “Wait...Danny, your voice sounds weird. Are you...are you in your ghost form?”

Danny bit his lip as a slight blush graced his cheeks. “I don’t want to hear it.” But the telltale whoosh of the glowing rings turning him back to his human form seemed to be all the confirmation she needed. Except, he didn’t hear her laugh.

“...Danny, I wanted to apologize,” she said, and that made Danny stop moving and look quizzically at the screen.

“What? Apologize for what?” he asked.

“For goading you into playing this game,” she clarified, her voice surprisingly serious. “While I’ve been hanging out here in the spirit world, I realized why this game set you off so much.”

“What do you mean? I never said it set me off,” Danny defended. How could she possibly know that? He thought he was playing it pretty cool.

“Oh please,” she scoffed. “You’re in your ghost form and you were panicking after the Ouija board thing.”

“Hey you would panic too if--”

“Danny I’m trying to say that I get it,” she interrupted. “Being near a ghost without your powers? Without any weapons? Being powerless? It’s one of your biggest nightmares, that your powers will fail when you need them. And this game, it’s too close to home.”

Danny stopped moving and stared at the screen, because she was absolutely right. This was too close to home. How many times did he have to check to make sure his ghost sense wasn’t actually going off? How many times did he keep thinking about how similar everything felt to his own experiences? How unnerved he was about a ghost in the basement? It was too similar to his real life...except he had the tools he needed in his real life. Not a flashlight and some dumb spirit book, but actual real tools and powers and weapons, but here they were all taken away from him. Everything he relied on to fight ghosts had been stripped from him in the game and trapped him helpless in a house with his friends. Of course that bothered him. It was, as Sam said, one of his more recurring nightmares.

“...Yeah I think I’m good never playing this game again,” Danny admitted, the closest he planned to get to acknowledging everything she said was true.

“Honestly? I don’t blame you,” Sam agreed softly. “I think it’s easier for us because we’re used to this role: when there’s a ghost in the area, we help figure out what’s going on and support you. It’s not all that different from this game,” she explained. Her ghostly avatar followed Tucker out of the house and he followed after them. “But when you’re used to doing the fighting and defending and can’t...I guess it’s probably harder to separate yourself from the game.”

He reached behind him and rubbed the back of his neck. “Yeah,” he sighed. As much as he hated to admit it, she was right. It was too similar to his daily life, and as he tried to argue at the beginning, he didn’t need to hunt fake ghosts poorly when he knew how to fight real ghosts well. “You know you sound like Jazz,” he pointed out, trying to lighten the mood and change the subject.

“Wow, you’re going to insult me after I tried to help you?” Sam scoffed. “See if I ever help you again!”

Danny smiled at the screen, glad to be back to the teasing. He definitely felt more relaxed and more like himself. “Oh look, Tucker’s finally calling it quits,” Danny observed as Tucker closed the door to the trailer.

“God, I can’t wait to find out if he saw you.” He could hear her grinning through the headset and honestly he felt the same. Out of all of them, Tucker would be the most excited about this addition.

The screen changed over to the menu screen, showing all their accomplished objectives. It also meant that all three party members could talk to each other again. “I can’t believe you left me!” Tucker complained. “It’s even worse when you’re in there on your own! Do you know how much more evidence we needed to collect? Um, a ton!”

Sam laughed, and Danny had to join in. “Okay so we are sorry about that, but Tucker did you ever see the ghost?”

“No, which is probably why I’m the only one that survived!” he complained.

“Oh my god Sam, he didn’t see it,” Danny groaned.

“Oh my god.”

“No wait, didn’t see what?” Tucker asked. His voice had calmed down a bit and was colored with curiosity.

“Tucker...the ghost was Danny,” Sam told him.

“Uh no, we clarified his name was Thomas,” Tucker corrected.

Sam and Danny both groaned. “No Tucker, the ghost was Danny Phantom. It was skinned to look like Phantom,” she clarified.

Tucker’s line sat silent for a long time before he finally exploded in a shower of shock, excitement, and regret. “NO WAY! No! That is so cool! I mean I knew the developers were fans, but this is so cool! Like literally the best tribute ever. Oh my god I can’t believe I missed it! No!” he cried. He was so loud into the microphone that Danny had a hard time believing Tucker didn’t wake his parents.

“It’s why both of us died,” Danny explained. “We were just too shocked seeing it.”

“We’re going back in. I need to see this,” Tucker demanded.

Danny bit his lip. He was not going back in. He meant it when he said he was done. He almost had his explanation on his lips before Sam spoke up first. “I doubt it’ll show up two times in a row. I Googled it and the skin will be here for the whole month of Halloween as a random draw, so you’ve got time to see it. But if you want to try again tonight, I’ll keep playing if you want. Danny...he needs to get some sleep.”

“What? No, it's so much easier with three people. Come on Danny,” Tucker pleaded.

“Nah, Sam’s right, I should go to bed. Gotta be rested for those real ghosts tomorrow,” Danny chuckled. “Besides, being killed by my own image was a little weird.” And also a little too close to home, considering some of his memories of Dan.

“Yeah, this game isn’t Danny’s jam,” Sam explained simply. He had a feeling Sam would talk to Tucker more about what they discussed while their avatars were dead, and honestly he didn’t mind. He didn’t want to keep secrets from Tucker, he just really didn’t want to talk about it any more tonight.

Tucker sighed. “Alright, fine, you’re off the hook. At least you gave it a try though.”

“I did, and you’re both gonna owe me one for doing it too,” Danny reminded them.

“Dude, pretty sure you’re in the negatives when it comes to IOUs from us,” Tucker pointed out with a good-natured laugh. “Testing out inventions, excuses at school, doing your homework, remembering the thermos when you forget it, distracting your parents…”

“Okay okay, I get it,” Danny groaned as he left the screen and exited out of the game. “Well fine, then I’m less in the negative now. And on that happy subject, I’m going to bed. Good night guys.”

“Good night Danny,” Sam replied. “We’ll see you tomorrow.”

Danny almost hung up on their private Discord server when he heard Tucker speak up. “Hey Danny, wait.”

“What?” he asked curiously, his mouse still hovering over the disconnect sign.

“The type of ghost...was a Phantom.”

I’ve never cross-posted on tumblr before, so this will be a first! I hope you enjoy!

[talatomaz]

crossing paths pt.ii | diana prince x lance!reader

a/n: reader has the powers of telekinesis. i’m not sure if I like how this went tbh but oh well

warnings: mentions of fighting

word count: 2.7k

masterlist | request list | request rules

pt.i | pt.ii

reader is sara & laurel’s younger sister who works with team flash. after her and cisco’s experiment goes sideways, she finds herself trapped on an unknown earth not unlike her own

i do not give you permission to repost or translate my fics on any platform - likes/reblogs are okay and are much appreciated

Home Sweet Home.

Exiting the train station, you exhaled a deep breath and took in your surroundings. Most importantly, the huge sign that had “WELCOME TO CENTRAL CITY” scrawled across the board.

After the events of the day, you’d decided that the best course of action would be to make your way to this Earth’s Central City.

You’d figured they had to have a Star Labs which you knew would hold the necessary equipment you needed to fix the extrapolator or at least the communication function so you could contact Cisco.

Luckily, whilst on your journey, you’d managed to hack into the train’s wireless computer so you could then erase the museum’s security footage from your phone. The footage of your fight with the robbers was the last thing you needed getting out.

Hailing a cab, you made your way to Star Labs, having pocketed one of the maps that detailed the route to the facility from the train station.

In little over 20 minutes, you had arrived. Paying the driver with what little cash you had left, you craned your neck to look up at this Earth’s Star Labs.

It was different to the one back home. Yes, it was modelled fairly similarly but this had a more...robotic feeling and was definitely a lot darker than yours.

Though you supposed that was because this Star Labs seemed to be more full, several employees walking in and out of the building.

Whereas the Star Labs back home, whilst full of technology, was only home to Team Flash and no one else. The risk far too great for ordinary people to see what you were doing.

Entering the building, you quickly donned a white lab coat and went in search for the equipment you needed to fix the breach device.

Finding a secure room, you put on your mask and used your powers to open the door.

As you walked in, you let out a small gasp. The room was larger than you’d expected; filled to the brim with computers and screens all hooked up to one another. Making your way to one of the larger ones, you began writing a line of code. Then you took out the extrapolator, placing it on the table and grabbed some tools that were on the desk.

You started to mend the broken device, remaining careful and alert incase someone was going to catch you. You were about halfway through when you felt a familiar rush of air and found yourself in an unknown area.

Not unlike Star Labs, it was filled with computers and the like but also held training equipment in the far side of the room. Then you felt yourself tied to the back of a chair, staring up at a group of men.

You recognised most of them, except the one that could only be described as a half-man, half-cyborg hybrid.

“Oh fuck.” You murmured to yourself.

This was all you needed.

To be captured by none other than Batman, Superman and the Flash.

“Yes, indeed. Who are you?” Superman asked, his arms crossed over his chest.

You narrowed your brows, analysing each of their outfits. This Earth’s Superman outfit was different to the one back home. Batman, you’d never really met before so you couldn’t comment.

But the most interesting was the Flash’s outfit.

It appeared to be made up of metallic materials whereas Barry’s was made out of intense heat-resistant and abrasion resistant polymer and some other stuff that Cisco had explained to you that you didn’t take note of.

“More importantly, where are you from?”

You heard a familiar voice say behind you.

You turned your body, as best you could since you were confined to a chair, and felt your jaw drop at the female who stood before you.

Not only was she the woman you’d met earlier at the museum but she was freaking Wonder Woman!

“Holy shit. Cisco is going to be so jealous he didn’t come here.”

“Who’s Cisco? And where did you come from?”

Not giving you time to answer, the brunette continued, “I saw you earlier at the Metropolis museum. You told me about the criminals.”

“We tried to pull the security footage but it had mysteriously been erased.” The man you nicknamed Cyborg said. “Why were you at Star Labs?” He asked.

“You know. You gotta let a girl answer before you continue asking questions.” You joked.

“This isn’t a joke. Tell us who you are.” Batman spoke for the first time, his voice coming out hoarse and rough. Probably from a voice distorter.

“I will. As soon as you untie me.”

When the five of them stared at you, you sighed.

“Guess I’ll do it myself then.”

With a flick of your fingers, the ropes that bound you came loose and you stood to face the group.

They immediately went into fighting stances, ready to take you down if need be.

“Oh, for God’s sake,” you scoffed, “I’m not going to hurt you. I just don’t like being tied up. Unless we’re in the bedroom.” You teased, laughing to yourself.

“You’re a meta.” Wonder Woman commented.

Placing your hand in your pockets, you were about to reply when you felt that they were empty.

“Wait, where the hell is the extrapolator?”

“Oh, you mean this?” The Flash said, holding the device in his hand.

“Give that to me.” You ordered, charging your way to the speedster before Batman stood in your way.

“I don’t think so.”

“Barry, that is not something to play around with. Give me that.” You repeated.

“Wait, how do you know my name?” He paused, everyone’s eyes trained on you.

“It’s a long story. Now please, put down that device.” You sighed when he placed it on the table beside him.

When he put it on the surface, he must have accidentally pressed a button because Cisco’s body popped up like a hologram.

“What on Earth?” You heard Wonder Woman say.

“Y/N! Where the hell are you? Woah, is that Batman?!” Cisco’s voice crackled through the device as the hologram glitched.

“Cisco, the device broke. Can you track what Earth I’m on using the GPS?”

“I can try. But I need you to fix the small chip that’s in the extrapolator first.”

The Cisco hologram glitched out and faded away.

“Shit.” You murmured to yourself.

“What do you mean ‘what Earth’? Who are you?” Batman said.

Sighing, you spoke, “I’m not from this Earth.”

“You’re an alien?” Barry exclaimed.

“What? No! The only alien here is Clark.”

You gestured towards the Man of Steel.

“How do you know who I am? Did Lex send you?”

“Oh, please. As if I’d work with that idiot. Besides, I like his sister much better. As I was saying, I’m from an Earth called Earth Prime.”

Then you gave them all a brief explanation of the rebirth of the Universe and how you’d arrived here.

“Ever heard of Everett’s many-worlds theory? Simply put, this Earth is not the only Earth that exists. I come from a parallel Earth where I work with the Flash and several other heroes, including Supergirl and Batwoman. Though no one’s seen Kate in a while.”

Looking into each of their eyes, you could still see apprehension.

Facing Wonder Woman, you held out your wrist, “Use your lasso of truth and you’ll see I’m not lying.”

“How did you-”

She started before you interrupted her, “Do it and then I’ll explain.”

You watched as she removed the rope from her armour and wrapped one end around your wrist.

Your eyes widened as the rope started to glow a bright yellow, the material feeling warm against your skin.

“What I just said was true. And I know about all of you. Your parallel selves are my family and friends back home. And Wonder Woman-”

“You may call me Diana.” She interjected, flashing you a kind smile.

“And Diana,” you corrected, “you’re somewhat of a Legend where I come from. I visited Themyscira once, it was beautiful.”

“My home is hidden from Man’s world. How did you see it?”

“My sister, Sara, travels through time with her team and when I worked with her for a brief period, my friend, Zari, and I, took Helen of Troy to your island to save her. Anyways, you do exist on my Earth but no one really knows of you.”

Diana stared at you for a few moments, her intense glare making you weak in the knees, if you were being honest.

It was as if she was looking right into your soul.

Whatever she saw must have pleased her because her gaze faltered and she removed the lasso from you.

“She’s telling the truth, guys.”

“Thank you. Now I need to fix the extrapolator or I won’t be able to get home.”

“So that little thing can make anyone travel between worlds?” Cyborg asked.

“Yes, exactly.”

“It’s like one of those damned mother boxes that almost destroyed our world.” Bruce said harshly. “We can’t risk having that here. We need to destroy it.”

“Don’t even think about it.” You spat out, your hands clenched at your sides.

You narrowed your eyes, watching for any indication of movement from the vigilante.

The only warning you had was Bruce’s muscle tensing before he reached for the table that held the device.

In a quick motion, you used your powers to throw the former into a pile of boxes to break his fall.

The playboy rose to his feet and charged at you, ignoring the shouts of his team.

You blocked his punch and deflected his kick. Ducking when he swung his arm, you used all your strength to throw him over you.

He reached into his cape and you flung whatever he was about to hurl at you into the wall. He swiped at your legs, making you stumble to the ground. You picked yourself up and when he ran at you, once more, you used your powers of telekinesis to rise in the air above him.

You extended your hand in front of you and lifted him in the air to face you. He struggled within your hold before you both looked down at Diana who’d shouted.

“Enough! Y/N, put Bruce back on the ground.”

With a crash, Bruce fell to the floor whilst you gracefully landed upright on your feet.

“Bruce, this device isn’t as harmful as the mother boxes. And it is her only way home, we cannot destroy it.”

Diana said calmly as Bruce huffed and murmured a curse.

“Listen, Batboy. I will kick your ass again if you don’t shut up.” You said, meaning every word.

“I’m not trying to be hostile here but I only came here to prove my theory which I’ve clearly done so now I just want to repair the device and go home.”

Walking over to the table, you picked up the extrapolator and inspected it. Your heart dropped when you saw a crack in the chip.

You knew that there was no way to fix the locator.

“Y/N, is everything okay?”

Your voice not strong enough to answer, you shook your head. Clicking the communication button, you saw Cisco’s hologram appear again.

“Y/N, have you fixed the GPS chip yet? Y/N, what’s wrong?” Your friend asked in concern.

“The chip’s broken. Majorly so. I’m going to need to replace it but the only replica of the chip is-”

“Here.” Cisco finished. “Is there a Star Labs near you?”

“Yeah, I went there earlier to fix the damage but there wasn’t any chip. I checked.”

“Okay, I just need to create another extrapolator and then somehow come and get you.”

“Cisco, you know that can take weeks.” You sighed.

“Y/N, it’ll be fine. We’ve been stuck on other Earths before. Including with a telepathic gorilla. I doubt there’s any Earth worse than that.” He said, trying to inject some levity in the conversations.

“You’re right. Look, don’t tell the team. You and I both know that they’ll just worry and I don’t need them telling Sara or Dinah either because they’re too protective. Just lie and say that I was missing Laurel and decided to take a vacation.”

“You got it. Stay safe, y/n. And keep this extrapolator with you so I can speak to you.”

“You got it. Bye, Cisco.”

Once again, the hologram faded away and you hung your head.

Cisco was right.

It was not the first time this had happened and it certainly wouldn’t be the last. You were damned if you’d let this get you down.

Clearing your throat, you straightened and faced the group, having forgotten that they were there for the entire exchange.

“Guess I’m going to be in your hair for a little while longer.”

***

It had been 3 weeks since the day you’d arrived on this Earth.

Diana had kindly invited you to stay with her whilst you waited for Cisco to arrive. You remained in constant contact with the latter; he wanted to keep you updated on his progress.

You were still on rocky terms with Bruce, him not appreciating you beating him. He was stubborn and irritating but reminded you of Oliver in that regard.

You helped the Flash with his speed, giving him tips on how to manage it and retain his strength which you’d learned from having closely worked with Barry all these years.

You also got on fairly well with Superman and Cyborg and even met Aquaman who tried to hit on you the moment he saw you.

But out of everyone, you’d grown close to the Amazonian warrior. The first night you’d stayed with her, you found yourself talking to her all through the night until the sun had come up.

She had told you about her family back home and you told her about yours. You supposed it was easier to tell her than anyone else since she’d endured so much loss and pain and understood what it was like to be separated from her family.

“Y/N, you ready to go?”

Interrupted from your thoughts, you turned to face the beautiful brunette who had a soft smile painted on her face.

She had asked you to dinner a few days before, telling you she wanted to give you both a relaxing evening. You had graciously, and rather, immediately accepted the invitation.

The truth was that, over these past few weeks, you found yourself hoarding a crush on the Goddess.

You could have disregarded it as a schoolgirl crush but the last time you’d ever felt like this, was when you were with Thea. But that had ended amicably after she found love with Roy.

“Yeah, let’s go.”

After eating outdoors at a small bistro, the two of you strolled down the street. Then your heart skipped a beat when she slid her hand in yours.

Looking up at her, you saw a gleam in eyes as she smiled at you which you reciprocated. You basked in the feel of her hand against yours, her warmth spreading through you.

Then you both jumped when her phone started to trill in her pocket.

“Diana Prince.” She answered her phone, humming in response before disconnecting the call.

“That was Bruce. He needs us at Star Labs. Both of us.”

She answered when you opened your mouth to ask just that. Closing your mouth, you nodded and ducked with her into an alley so you could both fly to the building.

“What is it, Bruce?” Diana asked as the two of you walked into the facility.

“The mainframe’s been going crazy. It’s as if someone’s breaking in here but no one actually is.” Cyborg answered instead.

Running up to the screen, you noticed the flashing alarms on the screen.

“Well, at least you guys have better security than we do.”

Pulling up the schematics of the building, you furrowed your brows at the thermal energy reading.

Parting your lips, ready to voice your confusion, you jumped back when a breach opened up in front of you.

When it closed, it left two people in its wake.

Barry and Sara.

“Y/N, Cisco told us what happened. We’re here to take you home.”

Glancing behind you, your eyes fell on Diana whose eyes flickered between you and your friends.

“God, I’m going to kill Cisco.”

<- Part 1