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imagines-to-quench-thirst · 1 year

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Farmer Clark

something just snapped at me when I saw this picture. I mean look at this picture

Pairing: Clark Kent x reader

Genre: SMUT, 18+, sir kink, breeding kink, female receiving

Notes: I saw this picture on Pinterest and yeah, I got carried away. Ah, to be on a farm with Clark.

The sun was blazing on the hot Metropolis day. Clark's farm was standing proudly on the hills surrounded by nature. Green hills were holding the fruits of the labor of Clark's blood, sweat, and tears, making produce for him and you for the following year. Y/n walked out of the barn, watching Clark throw a ball of hay over his shoulder as if weighing 2 grams. Maybe for him, it did. His muscle shined from the sweat that glistened on his slightly tanned skin. His pecs tensed every time he pulled, hauled, and threw something, anything, around the farm.

The man was a god walking among mortals, and you felt your mind fill with lewd images of him. His hand held the wrench as he knelt down in front of his tractor, trying to fix minor damage, a damage he told you about, but you could not concentrate on that as you saw his biceps move with each swing, tug, and pull. Observing him kneel like that gave you more ideas and wants. Wishing you were the one sitting there and him kneeling in front of you, eating you out until you see the stars, and he was so good at that.

"-pass me the...Y/n...Y/n?" Clark brought you out of your daze, noticing your head snap and your eyes trying to find him, finding him on the floor, lying on his back, looking confused, his hand reaching for yours. Giving him your hand, he chuckles.

"As much as I love to hold your hand, your hand can't unscrew a 5-inch bolt. Pass me the tool there."

With a slight blush on your cheeks, you pull away, taking your hand away from his grasp and handing him the appropriate tool, crouching down and sitting on the hay-filled ground, watching him do the work. Work you knew nothing about, you loved being around the farm, and living that quiet farm life, enjoying it with Clark. Relishing in every moment with him in this life, every early morning even though you hated to get up sometimes, every day off when you ran across the field while Clark chased you, every kiss that was stolen away from you while you were trying to make an apple pie, every time riding the tractor while he drove enjoying the bumpy ride.

"-in your world..."

"Huh?"

Snapping back, you see Clark in front of your face. "I said, 'You really are in your own world, darling?' That is what I said."

Laughing awkwardly, you look at him, seeing the smile on his face, his eyes fixed on you, and his big strong hands caressing your tights. Clark saw the glint in your eyes, he felt your heartbeat quicken when his hand inched a bit higher towards your waist, caressing unhurriedly as if trying to make you say it. To say what you want. What you want him to do to you.

"You know that I can feel you, sweetness. Every breath that stops in your throat, every whimper that you muffle, each gaze you throw at me. Therefore, you can tell me, darling. What do you want?"

Clark was playing the long game as much as you did. But on a much higher level. And he looked so delectable like that. Muscles on display, just wearing the overalls, he was playing every single character in your favorite romance books. And you wanted nothing more than to skip to the best part, but you needed to speak, as thinking too long might not help. He is a hero, but reading minds was not his forte.

"I want you, Kal-El. I want you to have your way with me."

Leaning into him, you kiss him, wrapping your hands around his neck, scratching the baseline of his hair, nipping and tugging. Clark felt himself shift into more of his primal urges, and the kiss was the fuse that started it. His nose filled with your arousal as his hands began to remove bits of your clothing; unlike Clark, you had more clothes on yourself. Sitting in his lap, you felt his length harden, your hips sway back and forth, and you continued to make out. The motion takes a new direction as Clark picks you up in his arms, laying you gently on the ground, the hay starting to make your skin itch. Pulling away, Clark breath out

"Put this behind your back." He offers his jacket, and you happily take it, placing it on your back.

Laying comfortably on it, Clark stops to take you in, your heart, your body, your whimpers, and at that moment, he wants to devour you.

"Darling, will you let me eat you out?"

You can simply whimper as your legs want any friction as they rub together. Removing your pants and underwear, Clark's face is in front of his other favorite pair of lips(as he said), and for once, you didn't mind the view. Clark was face down, ass up, and after his perfect face was his perfect ass sticking in the air. His blue eyes looked into yours, and you felt his tongue lick you, so slowly and sensually, like a feather touching your skin.

"More, Clark! This isn't enough." You say as you cup your breasts, fondling them, trying to add more sensation.

"I just started, pet. Believe me, I will have my way with you. I will corput you." Clark stated as he started his work. Licking up your folds, tracing each curve, fold and dip you had to offer. All of his tongue work leading to your clit, sucking with a harsh motion making you yelp and arch your back. Clark knew what he was doing to you, but you had no idea what you were doing to him. Sure, he was in pain as his cock was painfully hard and his balls heavy, needing to be emptied inside you, to breed you but for now, seeing you like this and that just being the start gave him some satisfaction. His fingers found your backside as they toyed with the rim making small circles on the entrance.

That feeling to you was different, your first time of him doing that and still being so gentle. The sensation started to bubble in you feeling a climax nearing extremely close.

"Clark, I am close. Stop."

At the word, Clark stops and looks concerned "Are you okay? Was I too rough? I know we didn't talk about anal-" You laugh at his words as you bring him up to you, kissing him passionately, telling him in the kiss that everything is perfect.

"What I mean by 'Stop.' was that I do not want to cum like this, but I want to cum together."

Clark looks at you and chuckles himself.

"You had me worried there, missy. But what you ask, you shall receive since you have been such a good girl."

"Yes."

Clark towers over you, his muscles shining from the overhead lighting and casting an intimidating shadow on your body.

"Yes, what?"

"Yes, sir." You reply.

Your body tenses as you feel his cock tapping your clit, teasing you. His hips push forwards with a slow, agonizing pace, your walls making way for his massive length as he nestles deep inside you, finding the warmth and spark he wanted. Placing your hands on his shoulder, you let yourself relax and enjoy the moment. His hips moved back slow as ever, making you whine at the loss of his fullness. Clark chuckles darkly

"I knew you wanted me to fuck you. But today, I am not doing that." he says while looking deep into your soul "I am going to breed you." he proclaimed, slamming his hips into you, the sensation dilating itself to a maximum in a second. Taking a fast pace, you saw his eyes closed, focused on what he is feeling and giving you as his ears are filled with your moans and pornographic sounds filling the empty barn.

"I will make sure you are full of my cum. No matter how many times you will carry my child." he voiced, his hands keeping yours in a gentle touch while his hips proclaimed you.

Hearing his statement, you felt a fire stir in you. You and Clark talked about having kids and occasionally having baby fever but nothing so sure came from his mouth as of seconds ago.

"Yes! I want your babies, Clark!" you screamed out, giving him an inkling that you, too, wanted this life.

His hips continued to snap into yours as his fingers found your clit rubbing it, pressing just hard enough for you to be closer to your climax.

"Then if we want a baby...we need to cum together. What do you say, missy? Are you close? I can feel you squeeze me tighter and tighter."

At a loss for words, you shake your head up and down, shutting your eyes and feeling the inevitably snap in you as you came. Clark's pace slowed as he rutted into you, letting himself fall beside you, grabbing you by the waist and pulling you inhumanly close.

"You really make me crazy. You know that, darling?" Clark said, kissing your neck, leaving a few hickeys in its wake. You watched him carefully pull out as he grabbed his overalls to clean you up. You pull away from him, saying "Those overalls are the reason we are in this position. Don't you dare ruin them."

Clark looks at them, confused "They are just overalls."

Standing up slowly, still feeling full, you say, "Those are the sexiest overalls I have ever seen."

With a naughty gleam, Clark throws the overalls over his shoulder " Then I will have to find another way to clean you up."

I have a audio file on farmer Clark in the making if you want to hear a snippet of it CLICK HERE.

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graciesluva · 1 year

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jealousy, caitlin clark

caitlin clark x vb! reader

in which caitlin has a jealousy problem and let’s it get the best of her.

disclaimer: i don’t play volleyball :) i actually barely know anything about it except from what i’ve collected by watching my sister play so sorry if it’s inaccurate!

Caitlin made it a point to try and make it to all of your games. She rarely missed one unless basketball took her away, which you understood. You tried to make it to all of her games as well and you did most of the time, sitting with her parents if they were in attendance or just with your friends who also showed up.

Once the end of October hit, it was harder, but most of the time it worked out. August through September, you could almost always count on her being in the crowd, normally having Monika and Kate (or any of the girls) in tow.

On this particular night, the team was playing extremely well. You, a libero, had been taken out during the second set after landing on your arm in a painful way when trying to pancake on the floor. You were mad at yourself for it, never really getting hurt when diving or anything, but it was something that was out of your control now.

You were put back in during the third set, after winning the first and second sets. There was a dull pain in your arm as you dove to the ground to save a ball again.

Soon enough, the Hawkeyes took a third win, the game over. You clapped hands with the other team, heading back to the locker room with your team.

Once you’d gotten all of your things pack up, putting a pair of sweatpants, leaving you in your uniform top. You stepped out of the locker room, going to look for Caitlin who had told you she’d be here.

“Hey, 22!” you hear someone call. You share a number with Caitlin, something you both like. Quickly, you turn your head to see a girl from the other team stepping toward you, “You good from that fall earlier?” she asked.

You laugh softly, nodding your head, “All good here. I’m sure I’ll have some bruises.”

The girl nods, looking you up and down a little, pressing her lips together with a smile. Unbeknownst to you, Caitlin, Monika, and Gabbie were walking up after spotting you. Caitlin’s jaw was clenched, watching this girl check you out.

“Caitlin, you should calm down a little,” Monika told her, the three of them stopping far enough away to where you still don’t notice them.

Caitlin furrows her brows, “I’m calm,” she answered.

“You’re staring like you wanna kill someone and I know it won’t be y/n,” Gabbie chimed in.

Sure, Caitlin was a little protective of you. She had a little bit of a jealousy problem, but you couldn’t do anything about that. It’s like she knew when another girl or guy was flirting with you and it set her off real quick. When the girl talking to you gently hit your shoulder when laughing at something that was definitely not that funny, Caitlin almost lost it.

You felt fingers brush your back from behind you, latching onto your waist as they pulled you into their side. Knowing it was Caitlin, you put your hand on the side of her stomach, a smile gracing your features.

“Hi, nice to meet you,” Caitlin said to the girl in front of the two of you who now looks defeated. Caitlin looks a bit smug.

She smiled at Caitlin, “You too,” she said before looking back at you, “Good job tonight.”

“Thanks, you too,” you respond. The girl turns and walks away and Caitlin kisses your head gently.

You looked up at Caitlin, “Was that necessary, baby?” you asked with a smile.

She shrugged with a nod, “She was flirting.”

“She was being nice,” You respond.

Caitlin shakes her head as she presses a kiss to your lips, Monika and Gabbie walking toward the two of you.

Gabbie has a look of relief on her face, “We thought she was going to kill her,” the Marshall girl told you.

You stared up at your girlfriend with wide eyes as she shakes her head again, “They’re lying. I wasn’t going to kill anyone. Just had to make sure she knew you were taken.”

“Goodness, Clark, don’t lose your shit.”

#caitlin clark #iowa wbb #caitlin clark x reader

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freedomfireflies · 1 year

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So I’m a cheerleader.. and I was thinking Stiles being with a cheerleader reader and he gets all hot and bothered seeing her walk around the school in uniform because it hugs her figure perfectly, so he pulls her into an empty classroom and you know 😉😉 and he tells her how short her skirt is and how it’s “easy access”

Stiles Stilinski is not subtle.

Especially when it comes to his staring, which was made very clear to you the day you first joined the team, before later showing up at his house in your new cheerleading uniform.

And his eyes had nearly bugged out of his head.

And he drooled.

Literally drooled.

All down his chin.

And it's for this very reason that you've decided to wear the dangerous outfit to school today, just to make sure he gets a really good look.

Technically, practice isn’t until after school, and most of the other girls prefer to change in the locker room just before.

And that’s normally how you prefer it, too. After all, this skirt leaves little to the imagination but even more so…it lets in a draft.

And it’s February. And very cold, and very brisk, and your legs are very bare.

But it’ll be worth it to watch the line of drool dribble from Stiles’ mouth as you swing your hips by his desk.

And you’re rewarded with exactly that as you saunter your way from one side of the classroom to the other, pretending to be oblivious to your charm, and to his presence, as you call a greeting to your friend.

You keep your back to him because you know if you catch a glimpse of his face, you’ll smirk. And if he knows you know what you’re doing, then he’ll make sure to make you regret it.

…which, you suppose wouldn’t be the worst thing.

Still, you keep him behind you and begin a conversation with one of the other girls on the team. You exchange stories about how your weekend was and what you’re looking forward to during practice.

But you don’t miss the sound of his throat clearing. You don’t miss the sound of his chair scraping across the floor, or the sound of his footsteps parading after you.

And you smile.

“What, no hello for me?” comes the familiar, soft taunt, slipping just over your shoulder.

You pull your bottom lip between your teeth and glance to the side. “Hm? Oh, yeah. Hey, Stiles.”

He swallows a scoff. “Oh, I think you can do better than that.”

Your eyes roll as he steps in front of you and leans back against your desk, forcing your attention on him.

Then, he grins. “So…do better.”

Still, you keep your playfully annoyed expression firm on your face as you shrug and let out a heavy sigh. “Fine. Hello, Stiles. Is that good enough for you?”

“Mm-mm.” His head shakes. “Try again.”

Your arms cross in front of your chest. “Well, it’s just gonna have to be, because class is about to start, and I don’t have time for this.”

With that, you reach out to lightly shove him to the side and out of your way so you can slip by and take your seat.

But you hadn’t anticipated the contact to be so…electrifying. You suppose it makes sense. After all, you and Stiles haven’t really had a lot of…quality time together recently. Both so busy with extracurriculars, homework, and friends.

You hadn’t meant to go two weeks without, and truthfully, you thought you’d been doing fine. Sure, once in a while, you’d find yourself lying in bed with your fingers between your thighs. But Stiles was always on the other side of that phone call, talking you through it, telling you how much he missed it, and how pleased he was to hear you fuck yourself to the sound of his voice.

Now, as you wrestle him out of your way, you feel his fingers brush the outside of your thigh as you pass by, and your breath catches in your throat as your mind suddenly goes fuzzy.

You both seem to still, now abundently aware of how badly you need each other.

You look up at him.

He looks back.

You swallow.

He smiles.

“Uh…Mr. Clark?” he’s suddenly calling, turning toward the man now taking his place near the front of the classroom.

Mr. Clark looks up. “Yes?”

“I’m…I’m not feeling so hot,” Stiles says, voice labored and thick as if in great pain. “I need to go see the nurse.”

Mr. Clark sighs as he waves his hand through the air dismissively. “Fine but be quick about it, please. We have a lot to cover.”

“Yes, Sir,” Stiles replies, taking a step back before stumbling rather dramatically as his hands reach out to grasp onto you. “Oh. Oh, gosh. I…I don’t think I can make it there on my own, I feel…I feel so weak and dizzy.”

Mr. Clark’s expression drops into an unamused frown. “Is that so?”

Stiles nods, blinking innocently. “Yeah, I…I sure hope I don’t pass out on the way there. That would just be…so bad. I could seriously get hurt. But…no. No, I’ll be fine. Don’t worry about me, I’ll…I’ll just hold onto the wall and hope I remember how to walk—”

“My god, just take him,” Mr. Clark interrupts, now nodding his chin at you. “It’s fine. Just take him, and hurry back.”

Doing your best not to laugh, you chew on the inside of your cheek and loop your arm under Stiles’ shoulder to help guide him toward the door.

He pretends to be faint, swaying from side to side as you do your best to keep him walking in a straight line.

And because this is Stiles, he makes this as difficult as possible, resting almost all of his weight on you as work to keep yourself upright.

Once you’re in the hall, you expect him to drop the act, but he doesn’t. Not until you’ve passed the few straggling students and teachers.

You also expect that he wants to actually head to the nurse’s office. His favorite place to have you because it's quiet, secluded, and it has a bed.

But this theory of yours is also proven wrong when he suddenly skids to a stop in the middle of the hallway, grabs onto your wrist, and yanks you through what seems to be a random door.

Once you’re both safely inside, you peer around the dark space, and piece together that he’s brought you into one of the empty study rooms.

However, you aren’t afforded an opportunity to discover much more than that because just as you’re starting to get comfortable, you feel his hands.

One is on your hip, and the other is nudging between your thighs to pry you open. And as he does, he guides you back toward one of the desks and places you on top before placing himself between your legs.

Your palms meet the cold, hard surface behind you as you brace yourself and stumble over a gasp. “What…what—”

“This?” he murmurs under his breath, fisting at the fabric of your cheerleading skirt with contempt. “This is fucking cruel.”

Your lashes flutter but you can’t deny the flush of your cheeks at his approval. “What do you mean?”

He makes a noise deep in the back of his throat as he guides the fabric up your lap, eying it—and you—closely. “You know exactly what I mean, sugar. Know you do. Know you wore this just to hurt me. Know you wanted me to see just how easy it would be to have you. Right then. Right there. In front of everybody.”

You stay silent because he’s right, and you just hope he plans to do something about it.

“It does, you know,” he continues softly, long fingers caressing the soft, tender skin of your inner thigh. “It does hurt me. Every inch of you hurts me. Not having you hurts me. Not being with you hurts me—”

He stops, and your heart just about drops to your ass as he ghosts his lips above yours and hooks his thumb under the lace of your underwear.

You both still.

“—do you wanna hurt me, sugar?” he asks, and you immediately shake your head. “Good. S’good. So…what do you want?”

He won’t go further than this until you say the words, and while you appreciate the sentiment, your tongue doesn’t seem to want to work right now.

“You,” you breathe. “Always you, Stiles, please.”

You watch his entire face light up as he finally concedes and kisses you. God, he kisses you with so much love and lust and adoration that your head spins and your lungs just about give out.

“Yeah?” he whispers.

You nod.

“Good. Then let’s do something about it.”

~ Full Masterlist

~ Other Dylan Blurbs

#dylan #dylan o'brien #dylan o'brien imagine #dylan obrien #dylan o'brien one shot #stiles stilinksi #stiles #stiles stilinksi imagine #stiles stilinski smut #stiles stilinksi fanfiction #stiles stilinksi x reader #stiles stilinski x you #stiles stilinski blurb #stiles stilinski request #blurb #request

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yandere-daydreams · 1 year

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Title: Chauvinism.

Commissioned by the very lovely @meri47.

Pairing: Yandere!Clark Kent | Superman x Reader (DC).

Word Count: 2.6k.

TW: Kidnapping, Plans for Prolonged Imprisonment, Nonconsensual Touching, Obsessive Behavior, and Slight Codependency.

You woke up to the feeling of something burning into the back of your head.

Again, true to the most literal definition of the word, burning. You bolted upward, bringing one had to the back of your scalp as you rubbed the sleep out of your eyes with the other. Exhaustion weighed you down, made it difficult to think about anything but the searing pain burrowing into your, the stiffness of your joints, the static numbness pricking at your fingertips, but luckily, you didn’t find an injury, didn’t smell burning hair, didn’t feel flesh melting off of bone or blisters forming across delicate skin – even if you were uncomfortably warm in that familiar, ‘held your hands too close to an open bonfire’ way. Still, you had to force yourself to calm down, to tear your attention away from your own startled distress and turn your focus outward.

You weren’t on fire, which was good. That was good.

But, you were in a strange room with strange crystalline walls, which was bad.

Very, very bad.

You swallowed down something thick and dry that’d lodged itself in your throat. The scenery was as blank as it was alien – all featureless, all bizarre, little more than a series of hexagonal pedestals that erupted from the ground without pattern or intention and four chrome walls so well polished, your own distorted reflections were able to corner you on all sides, and so tall, you weren’t able to make out the ceiling that had to be looming somewhere far above your head. The only actual piece of furniture seemed to be the bed you were sitting on; a remarkably normal mattress swamped with remarkably normal sheets, blankets, quilts - all doting cutesy, sappy patterns, all things you’d find in the bedding aisle of a particularly folksy home-goods store.

Partially out of curiosity and partially out of hope that you’d be able to dispel the knot of dread coiling in your stomach, you turned over the corner of the nearest quilt, finding a paper tag still on the end of its plastic toggle. That, for as thankful as you were not to be lying on a bare stone floor, was almost the most concerning thing you'd seen so far. It meant that someone had found the time to prepare this, to get ready for you. It meant that someone had decided to bring you here, and had given your abduction enough forethought to buy a fucking blanket.

You were almost tempted to curl back into yourself, to cover yourself in a stranger’s blankets and pretend you’d never woken up, but any delusions you might’ve had of being able to sleep this off like a bad dream were dispelled by the sound of a man clearing his throat, a new weight coming to rest on the other side of your bed. You jerked around the face the new presence, your eyes instantly landing on the monster who’d—

— on your coworker, Clark Kent, sitting on the edge of your mattress.

Your coworker, Clark Kent, who was inexplicably dressed like Superman.

For a second, all your panic and all your fear seemed to disappear in favor of making more room for complete and utter confusion. He wasn’t wearing his glasses, and admittedly, his get-up looked a step above what you’d find on the clearance rack of some out-of-season costume store. You couldn’t imagine where he’d gotten it. He was smiling, too – that gentle smile, the same one he wore as he slipped a mug of freshly brewed coffee onto your desk an hour before either of you were supposed to be so much as thinking about getting to work, as he rubbed the back of his neck and admitted that he got too caught up while he was writing his last article and pulled his third all-nighter that week. Despite everything, you couldn’t help but relax. Clark was here, which meant that wherever ‘here’ was, it couldn’t be that bad. You couldn’t be in that much danger if Daily Planet’s resident sweetheart had managed to make it out unscathed.

“Clark!” You scrambled toward him, already grinning. “Oh my god, thank fuck you’re here – I’m don’t know where we are, and my head really hurts, but I don’t think we’re—”

“Hey, hey, it’s alright. You were out for a while – try to remember to breathe.” His tone was like his expression – light, soothing, comforting enough to have you nodding along in an instant, to have you doing your best to inhale and exhale without cutting yourself off with more half-formed fears. He moved toward you, his fingertips brushing against your bicep before he draped an arm over your shoulders, pulling you into his side. You melted against him, and with an airy chuckle, he went on, keeping up a tenor that could’ve lulled you to sleep in any other circumstance. “You said that your head hurts? If you feel dehydrated, I get you something to drink.”

“No, that’s aright, I’m alright. I just—” You glanced towards the crystal walls, towards the nonexistent ceiling. “Do you know where we are?”

There was a slight lilt to his smile, a reassuring squeeze to your shoulder. “If that’s what’s got your heart beating out of your chest, you can let your guard down. We’re in the Fortress of Solitude. Unless a supervillain found a way to terrorize the North Pole, you’re perfectly safe.”

Now, it was your turn to laugh. “The Fortress of Solitude? I’m not an idiot, Clark. What do you want me to think – that Superman needs a house sitter?”

He was quiet, for a second.

Then, empathy practically dripping from his tongue, he said, “Honey, I am Superman.”

He’d hesitated, but you didn’t. Your reaction was instantaneous, automatic; a swell of bubbling laughter and a playful elbow driven into his side. You loved Clark, but he wasn’t a superhero. He kept a running list of the names of his coworkers’ pets, to make sure he never mistook Rebecca’s dog for Max’s rabbit. Whenever he stubbed his toe on a doorframe, he’d apologize to the doorframe. When aliens rained down from the sky or monsters erupted from the ground, Clark was always the first to run, and while you couldn’t blame him, you couldn’t say his tendency to make himself scarce as soon as the villain of the week reared its ugly head was very heroic, either. “That’s not funny,” you managed, eventually, in spite of your nervous smile. “We could be in danger. If you want to put on a Halloween costume and pretend to be a superhero, at least wait until we’ve gotten back to Metropolis.”

To his credit, he kept a straight face. “I wouldn’t lie to you, (Y/n).”

“At least try to make it plausible, then. I mean, he’s an alien, for fuck’s sake, and you’re from southern Kansas. He can fly, and you get stuck in traffic every morning. I’ve been to your flat, and everybody knows Superman lives in the Fortress of—”

Your voice died in your throat. Your mouth fell shut, and you went limp against his side.

After several seconds of stubborn silence, you forced yourself to spit out a soft “Prove it.”

His grin broadened. With a single hand, he took up the scruff of your blouse and lifted you off of the mattress without a hint of strain or trepidation. You were tossed, cursing and thrashing against his hold, into the air and caught in his lap, every step of the process just as effortless as the one that’d come before it. On reflex, you clung to him, wrapping your arms around his neck and cursing under your breath. He only laughed, glazing over your distress, your confusion in favor of paying more mind to your amazement. “The laser eyes can get a little out of hand, and flying indoors is…” He trailed off, shaking his head. “Is inhume strength enough, or are you going to make me break out the x-ray vision?”

“No, that’s not— I think you’ve done enough.” You felt breathless, like you’d just run a marathon. You felt drained, and exhausted, and frail, but you forced yourself to smile up at him, to remember that he was still your coworker, still your friend, still Clark Kent.

And if you knew anything, you knew that Clark Kent couldn’t hurt a fly.

(You also knew that Superman would’ve been able to break your neck with a flick of his wrist, but you tried not to think about that.)

“This is great,” you kept your tone bright, cheerful, burying your anxiety beneath a heavy layer of brimming enthusiasm. “You have to tell me everything! As soon as we get back to Metropolis, you’re going to—”

“About that,” he cut in, only somewhat apologetic. “Metropolis might have to wait. This can be a sensitive time, and I thought it might be better for you to stay here, with me, just until you’ve adjusted to…” There was another pause, another sympathetic smile. The heel of his palm pressed into the small of your back, and against your will, you were reminded of just how easily he could crush your windpipe, or break your spine, or rip your heart out of your chest before your body had time to give out. “To this. To us.”

You didn’t have his resilience. Your expression immediately dropped. “What do you mean?”

He didn’t waste time, didn’t pretend to believe it was a genuine question. “Think of it as a precaution. You’re just going to stay somewhere safe and quiet for a few weeks, let some new information soak in, and when you’re ready, we can go home together.” He bowed his head, his lips ghosting over the curve of your shoulder. You tried to let go of him, to put a little distance between yourself and Clark, but his hand rose the back of your neck, keeping you pinned against his chest as he went on. “I tried to think of a way to do this at home, but it wouldn’t have worked out. You’re going to be in danger, and this—” He nodded toward the crystal walls. “—is one of the only places where I know you’ll be safe. From the people who want to hurt me, and from yourself, while you’re still learning.”

“Learning what? Clark, I might be a reporter, but I’m not going to sell your secret identity to the first paper that makes a bid.” Another half-hearted shove to his chest, another attempt to give yourself space to breathe. He only held you tighter, his smile pressing into the side of your neck. “I-It’s not like you can keep me here, either. I mean, it’s not like heroes hold civilians hostage.”

“Heroes do what they have to do,” he muttered, his voice stifled by proximity, his breath warm against your skin. “’specially if it means keeping the people they love safe.”

It felt like a stupid thing to ask, given your situation, your position. It felt like a waste of breath, considering you were in his lap, in the heart of his secret lair, with his mouth pressed against your skin and his hands drifting toward your waist, and yet, you couldn’t seem to stop yourself. “You love me?”

There was a throaty laugh, a squeeze to your side. “With all my heart.” There was no hesitation, no reluctance. If you’d been standing, your legs might’ve given out. “I wish it didn’t have to be so complicated. I really did try to find a workaround, but if I tried to approach you as Clark, you’d never be fully protected from everyone who’s after Superman, and if I tried to love you as Superman – well, then you’d never pay Clark a second glance. I didn’t want you to only know half of who I am.” A kiss, this time, shallow and fleeting, pressed into the corner of your jaw. “This was the only way I could show you who I was without putting you in harm's way. You’ll learn the ropes here, and when you’re ready, we can go back to Metropolis and get you moved into my place—”

A waste of time, a waste of breath, a waste of hope. Still, you couldn’t seem to stop yourself from making bad decisions, today. “What would you do if I didn’t feel the same way?”

This time, it was a kiss to your temple, then your forehead. He didn’t try to kiss you – to actually kiss you, thank God – but it was a small mercy, further dampened by the fact that he was still holding you, still keeping you as close as you could possibly be. After long, agonizing seconds, he raised his head. If he was worried, if he noticed the tension in your shoulders, how stiffly you held yourself, you couldn’t tell from his easy smile, the levity in his tone. If anything, he seemed excited, eager to plan out your future together with or without your cooperation.

“If you didn’t love me…” He tried to laugh, but the air hitched in his throat and he settled for a wistful sigh. “Why are you asking? Have something you want to tell me?”

“It’s a hypothetical.” Your tongue felt swollen, your head heavier than it should’ve been. “Just… indulge me, alright? I’m curious.”

“Like I said, you don’t have anything to worry about. If you took a little time to come around to me, I wouldn’t mind – it wouldn’t change anything, either.” It was a corrupted type of reassurance. Rather than soothing your anxiety, it only seemed to make you feel more sick. “I’d just have to work a little harder, keep a closer eye on you. I mean, I already plan on keep you as close as I can, but—” He clicked his tongue, brushed a few stray hairs away from your face. “—I guess I’d have to hold you a little tighter. Until I could trust you to come around on your own, at least.”

He'd already taken you to an impenetrable fortress in the middle of a frozen wasteland, hundreds of thousands of miles away from the nearest person. You weren’t sure how much more tightly he could hold you.

Dread welled in the cavity of your chest, something sweet and sickly rising into the back of your throat, but you managed to nod, to lean against him. He welcomed your cooperation, rewarded it with a low, throaty sound of approval. “I should show you around. There isn’t much to see, but, y’know, common courtesy and all that.”

“I’m… actually still pretty tired.” It wasn’t a lie. You were exhausted, and you wanted more than anything to crawl into the nearest hole and wait until this had all blown over. But, there weren’t any holes you could crawl into – just a bed, a few mirrored walls, and a man you had formerly thought of as Clark Kent. “I think I might need to take it easy for a couple hours, just to give my brain time to process all this. Would… would that be okay?”

That, that was what made him falter – earning a slight lapse, a new quirk to his smile – but he held himself steady, only nodding as you shifted off of his lap. Hesitantly, with no small amount of apprehension, you edged away from him, daring to put just an arm’s length worth of distance between yourself and him and letting out an ounce of tension drain out of your rigid form when he didn’t immediately decide you weren’t worth the effort, when you didn’t find yourself reduced to little more than ash or pulverized viscera. “Of course. Give me a few minutes, I’ll get you something more comfortable to—“

“This is fine.” Your voice cracked, but you tried to pretend you didn’t notice. “I mean, I’m fine. I just— I think I need a little time to myself. To take this all in.”

His disappointment was visible, but he didn’t argue. You waited until he’d left your room, until he was out of sight and out of earshot, to slip back under your mound of blankets and shrink into yourself. You were exhausted, and yet, you’d never been more awake in your life. Sleep seemed like a distant dream, leaving yourself helpless and unaware like a lurking nightmare.

It was all you could do to lie there, small and vulnerable, and try to ignore the eyes burning into the back of your neck.

#yandere #yandere x reader #yandere x you #yandere imagines #yandere oneshot #yandere scenarios #yandere dc #dc x reader #superman x reader #yandere superman #dc imagines #clark kent x reader #yanderecore #yancore

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phoenixcatch7 · 1 year

Text

The Wayne doll house

Have some haunted doll au, since it's been bubbling away in my mind.

The bat cave is large and sprawling, many layers and tunnels and hollowed out cracks in the walls. It takes many years to fully reinforce to prevent stray kids from tripping into stagnant waters or fall down crags as he once did. The doll cave, as it becomes known, is in one of the deepest, darkest corners, one where the lights of the furnished caverns above don't reach.

It's one late night sitting at the computer when it suddenly occurs to Bruce that his first encounter with a doll was at the well entrance, many levels above.

There was nothing there when he went back.

The justice league stared at the subaru. The subaru, having no eyes, did not stare back.

The seven of them had just finished a very long, arduous mission, and narrowly escaped government censure after the base they'd been raiding had turned out to belong to some corrupt official. With the alert up, they couldn't escape through city airspace, or even in their hero suits.

So civilian it was.

Batman had hotwired some bloke's car while the rest of them ducked into alleys and shop bathrooms, but the problem remained. There was seven of them. And five seats.

"I can shift into something more suitable for being carried," suggested j'onn, "but I believe one of us might have to hide."

"Foot well?" Hal tried, and everyone looked around at the tall, bulky, broad heroes.

"Think they'd have to go in the boot," Barry finally said. Everyone immediately turned to him. "No."

Batman spoke up before the discussion could devolve.

"I think.... I would be best for that."

The team stared.

"Batsy?"

Having no lungs meant he could not drag in the tired sigh he wished, but whatever force allowed this body to talk was capable of approximating something suitably resigned.

"As I am, I am... incapable of fully passing as human. It would be best if I remained out of sight."

"So just? Go change? I swear we won't be weird about whoever you are under the mask. Even if you're like, bald."

"Thank you, Wally, but I'm afraid I'm being serious." Reaching for the mask in broad daylight was unpleasant, but the glue and wires held as he gave it a few thorough tugs. "It doesn't detach."

Everyone stared. Clark reached out as if he wanted to check, but withdrew.

"Do you even have a civilian identity??" Oliver eventually asked. "Because at this point I'm genuinely not sure."

Wayne Enterprises and Queen Industries had a meeting that same evening. "Hn."

"Can we go back to the 'incapable of passing as human' part?!"

"We can discuss it in the car," he snapped, stalking past Barry and popping the boot. "In case you haven't forgotten, we're on a time limit."

For once, that seemed to encourage them, and batman, with great dignity, folded his joints and cape into the small space, ignoring Hal's mutter of 'what kind of contortionist -' as he slammed the lid. With a little shuffling he managed to activate his comms.

"I will inform the watchtower of our delay."

"Batman, they're tapping all outgoing signals, you can't -"

"It won't trigger," he interrupted, before he twisted his consciousness and sent it spiralling across the country.

Bruce awoke with a groan, stretching his limbs and taking a moment to marinate in his annoyance before he reached for the comm and voice modulator on the beside table.

"Batman to watchtower, we've encountered delays. If the Texan state government calls we haven't entered the state in six weeks. Batman out."

"Alien?"

"No."

"Reanimated corpse?"

"No."

"Uh... Demon?"

"Hm. No."

"You're not just a meta human, are you?"

"No."

"Vampire?"

"No."

"Robot??"

"No."

"Batsy, please, someone's got to win the bet eventually. How do we even know you're not lying?!"

"You don't," Batman said, not looking up from his paperwork and Flash groaned, letting his sticky notes fall to the floor as he buried his head in his arms.

"One day," he bemoaned to the keyboard, "one day we'll figure it out."

"Until then please keep your eyes on the monitors."

Flash groaned again.

Robin ducked under superman's arm as he scuttled down the corridor, laden with the night's haul of snacks. The real problem wasn't getting them - stopping league members from raiding the kitchen would be extremely counterproductive - but keeping them until he could return home to his human body to eat them. Batman had started searching him each time they left and it was really cutting into his daily sugar intake. Unfair! Just because he didn't actually use energy to stay up my night to fight crime, it felt like he did!!

'Oh, you're broken, Robin, oh, don't go out until the glue has fully set, Robin' his arm was fine! It wasn't like there was much crime to be fought on the watchtower anyway! At least not physically.

So he was pretty pleased with himself until he went to set the snacks down and found that the tar like glue they used had soaked through the sleeve and gotten all over his chocolates.

With his other hand, he tried to pry them off, wincing as the wrappers tore and stuck. He tried to shake it, ignoring the way his elbow rattled in the joint.

"Come on, come on - aw, cheezits."

The arm fell off. Robin stared despondently at the limb, surrounded by torn wrappers and dripping black glue where it connected to the elbow. The sour stink of formaldehyde filled the air.

He was going to be in such trouble with Bruce.

The click of the door jerked his head up.

Flash stood in the doorway, wide eyed. Robin stared back.

Flash screamed.

Oh yeah @dehydratedmockingbird have a thing

#batman #Possessed doll au #bruce wayne #justice league #cryptid batman #Cryptid batfam #Didn't fit in there but I wanted to include that every bat member has a mask that covers their mouth #They've all got nutcracker jaws #I don't know the technical name but you know the ones where only a block moves for the mouth and the cheeks don't?#Super creepy on a life size thing I'd imagine #So if their mouth guard or mask gets ruined guess who's having nightmares that night!#Normally cryptid batfam go to great lengths to Look Inhuman and these guys still do it's just easier to not get joints jammed if you cover #Them up. Doesn't mean they haven't pavloved the whole criminal underground into terror at the sound of wooden clacking #They can turn ALL their joints 360 and it terrifies the average goon when you try to sneak behind a bat and it just swivels around to lock #With you. They grapple by shooting their hands out (so they can't lose their grapples) and it doesn't look nice. Yes they use it to #High five from across rooftops or grab things. Punch people in the face from the rafters. (pie the joker)#Their outfits look painted on (they mostly are). Ears swivel. They each have gliding wings installed in their backs after a scare with ivy #Clark was too polite to ask about the rattling and hissing noises he made until one day he was scouting with xray vision glanced over #And nearly screamed XD #long post #long tags

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illya-roma · 7 months

Text

Dp x dc promt

The clattering of glass rang in his ears once more after Bruce Wayne made another toast for increasing funds for another charity event. It was fun really, Clark doesn't get enough chances to tease his friends without being interrupted by the villian of the weak.

He chuckles as Bruce fails at slipping another flirting remark to the tall and muscler "power couple" (look at him using slang) sandwiching him. Clark knows that if Diana found out she'll try to rope him into doing the same to Bruce.

He looks over the different plates to feast on while tuning in to Bruce's ever increasing heart beat knowing that he'll have something to hold over him.

Ba-dum, ba-dum, ba?

Ba,dum pur dum ba,puuuurrrr, bababa-dum-ba dum-ba, ......, ba-dam

What the?

Wait, is there an-

BA-DUNDUM, DUAM, .....,BA-DUM

It's getting closer. But who, why are they here? Should he make Bruce aware of, something pulls on his pants.

He looks down, the heart beat pinpointed to a child.

The hairs on his nape stand.

Blood drips all over their face, blue eyes overlaping and changing to something. Slit pupils overlapping with round ones.

"Kal-el?"

His heart falls.

The child smiles, sharp fangs glittering.

"You're afraid of hurting your friend's, human and not, aren't you?"

He goes to speak, only for his voice to vanish.

His mouth is moving, his voice sings in his ears.

But he's not voluntary moving.

He's not, he's not in-

"You're stuck fearing for the worst whenever you're not in control. I understand. Won't you tell me more?"

He tries to listen to Bruce's heart beat but his owns deafening him.

"You don't feel like you fit in, too far from your birth planet, too close to the strength that it destroyed it."

He needs to move, he can't, don't think of anyone , don't think of anythin- focus on moving.

"Why don't you talk more? You'll feel a lot better if you do. They , Kents, your favorite lady reporter, Bruce, your coworkers, all would tell you they're proud of you."

His head snaps to the right and there are no suits or dresses or rich people in sight. The metal chair creaks under him as he realises that his head in his hands. He feels the wetness on his cheeks.

He hears the chatter of teenagers around him.

The blood red hair flows-no it covers the table, branching yet not tangling with every flickers that he swears, he swears , is moving.

That his eyes aren't lying when the shadows don't match the girl.

He's in a restaurant. Her eyes glow with hunger and satisfaction.

"You've been so strong for so long, it's time for you to break down. And rest."

His shoulders falls, his body sags with relief as his mind fills with nothing but bliss. He feels lighter. Weight lifted off his shoulders.

His eyes open, the covers fall of his body.

He hears weeping.

The light barely flows in underneath the door.

He open it.

Bruce is holding onto his family on the floor.

The weeping is louder, Bruce is holding a hand out, beckoning him to join them.

They're missing four months from their memories.

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

We don't talk enough about cryptic jazz.

We don't hear much about her being bullied when she was the Fenton freak, maybe there was a reason not to.

@stealingyourbones @phantom00maverick

@jackpoompkin

#DPxDC #jazz fenton #cryptic jazz #dp x dc #dc x dp #dpxdc #dcxdp #my writing #my stuff

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ao3sbatfamily · 2 months

Text

'everybody talks, everybody talks' by fantalaimon

Author: @fanmkii

“I can’t understand why you don’t simply move to Gotham,” Damian said once, between bites of one of the four pizzas lying on Clark’s living room floor. (Yes, at some point even Damian had joined the infestation). “It would be more convenient than all of us coming to Metropolis every time.”

“You know I never actually asked any of you to come here, right?” Clark asked, incredulous.

“Tt,” Damian said, waving a hand dismissively.

“I mean, seriously, you know I love you guys--”

“We love you too, Clark,” Cassandra interjected smoothly.

“--but why do you keep coming here? Are monthly support meetings not enough for you? Because I feel I ought to remind you that you have plenty of sympathizers closer to home.”

“Wait, Clark,” Dick said, sounding suspiciously like he was trying not to laugh. “Do you think we come here because we want to get away from Bruce?”

“Well, I don’t think you do,” Clark grumbled.

#ao3 #fanfic #fic rec #batfam #batfamily #batman #dcu #dick grayson #clark kent #bruce wayne #superbat #superman #bat fam #bat bois #bat family #batkids #batsiblings #batdad

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headcanonthings · 1 year

Conversation

Clark: How do you like to take your coffee?

Tim: Strong so I don't need sleep

Garfield: Bitter, like my soul

M'gann: He's lying. He likes cinnamon lattes.

Garfield: M'GANN--

Bart: I prefer tea, actually.

Connor: I'm not allowed to drink coffee anymore because the last time I had too much I couldn't tell the difference between the floor and the ceiling and everyone freaked out

#incorrect quotes #incorrect dcu quotes #incorrect young justice quotes #dcu #Young Justice #clark kent #superman #Tim Drake #red robin dc #Robin Tim Drake #garfield logan #beast boy #m'gann m'orzz #miss martian #bart allen #impulse dc #connor kent #Kon-El #Superboy

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boldlyvoid · 5 months

Text

December 16th, 1986

Steve Harrington x Eddie Munson

Summary: It took 8 months, but Steve's parents finally sold their house... and Steve has no idea where he's going to live now.

Warnings: drug use, mutual pining, first kisses, getting together, moving in together, Wayne and Mr. Clark are dating in this

Word Count: 2.5k

For the past 8 months, Steve has been getting ready for this moment.

His parents announced pretty soon after the earthquake that they would be moving. They put the house up for sale, they packed their things and they left… they said he could stay there till it sold, make sure that the Realtor showed the house off right and answer any questions that the potential buyers have. He answered things that he shouldn’t have, he told lies, he made the house seem haunted and he prolonged living there as long as he could until another rich family decided they’d take it no matter what.

His last day to live in his childhood home is December 16th. He has 2 weeks to pack, find an apartment and start living life on his own terms. His parents “helped” the best way they knew how. With a check for $1000 as a thank you for looking after the place until now and words of support… those words being “We know you can do it, and if not, here’s our new address.”

Robin offered to let him stay with her but without her mom knowing because she already thinks they’re dating in secret and that wouldn’t help. He can’t ask Nancy for help cause she’s in Boston— Jonathan might be willing to help but since their breakup… he’s not really hanging out with anyone much. Dustin's mom has made it clear he can stay over whenever he wants but he’d have to sleep on the couch in the living room and there wouldn't be much privacy.

The 4 apartments downtown are taken currently, they won’t be available for god-knows how long and he can’t afford to buy a house of his own… his job sucks, and he’s worried he won’t even be there much longer once Robin goes off to college cause Keith hates him, so he should be looking for both a new job and a place to live.

It all comes tumbling out of him after a joint and a beer while lying on the carpet in Eddie’s room.

“Dude,” Eddie stops him mid-ramble. “You can stay here.”

“Where?”

“Here,” Eddie waves around. “In my room, with me, for as long as you need.”

He laughs as he sits up, “Yeah I can see it now, my race car poster can go there. My trophies will sit in a box over there on the floor and after I organize your closet for the first time like, ever, I’ll put my clothes in there.”

“I mean, I think the race car would look better over there,” Eddie points to the one blank spot on his wall with a smirk. “I’m completely serious, Stevie, you can stay here. Wayne won’t mind.”

He just sighs, “I mean, I think I can store all my things in Dustin's weird bomb shelter storage thing—

“Wait, what?” Eddie cuts him off. “He has a bomb shelter?”

“I don’t know it’s like not connected to his house and it’s in the backyard and it’s underground and all concrete,” Steve explains. “But they just keep his mom's homemade stuff down there like she pickles shit and makes jam, so... I could keep some boxes down there and just bring the important things here.”

“See, that sounds like a great plan,” Eddie cheers him on.

“But…” he doesn’t know how to ask.

“What?”

He sighs, “where am I going to sleep?”

“Here,” Eddie says like it’s no big deal, pointing down at his bed. “It’s not like you haven’t slept here before.”

“Yeah, but, every night, for-for I don’t know how long?” Steve worries, “You’d seriously be okay with that?”

Eddie nods, “I mean, we sleep pretty good when we’re together…”

Steve sighs, he’s right. No nightmares, no night sweats, no morning headaches, notate night anxiety attacks— and that’s just all the stuff on his end. Eddie hasn’t been on a regular sleep schedule like this since he was a toddler, sleeping from midnight to 9am every time they’re together, he’s more productive and he’s happier and they really love sleeping together... It just feels right.

“Don’t-don’t take this the wrong way, but-but—

“Oh no,” Eddie worries right away.

“No, no, it’s a good thing I promise,” Steve assures. “I just wanted to say I… I love you, man. You’re a wonderful person and you take such good care of all your friends and-and don’t tell Robin but you’re one of the best people in my life and I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

Eddie tries to make a joke response but his mouth just opens and closes and he shakes his head in disbelief, “You do?”

Steve nods, “I really do. Thank you… for everything.”

Eddie gets off his bed and crowds Steve on the floor, wrapping him up in such a powerful hug they end up lying down with Eddie on top of him, “I love you too, Stevie.”

They’re like that for well over a minute, but with the weed in their system, it might’ve been even longer than that. They end up cuddled on the floor, Eddie’s face in Steve’s neck, Steve’s fingers tracing shapes on Eddie's back, the two of them silent and content and oddly comfortable.

They cuddle often. This is how they fall asleep. After long chats about all sorts of things: work, bad dads, evil teachers, stupid ex-friends, relationships that went south... You name it, they’ve talked about it. It started one night after he drove Robin home from work, she had a headache and just wanted to sleep and he needed someone to talk to— somehow he ended up parked in front of Eddie’s trailer before he could even register how he got there and Eddie was coming outside to make sure he was okay. He wasn’t. But he’s been okay since then, since knowing he has another safe space with someone who cares about him.

Now he knows that someone loves him… and Steve loves him right back. Maybe more than how he loves Robin or Dustin. Maybe he loves him more like he loved Nancy? This did feel an awfully lot like when he cuddled with her, only, they did this after sex… completely naked, cuddled up for 10-20 minutes before he had to get her home for her curfew, but he soaked it all in. It was his favourite part of the whole thing.

And now he has it again, just in a different form. In a different shape… an Eddie shape that’s even warmer and heavier and smells like home and doesn’t have to leave after a few minutes. And when Eddie said he loved him back, it was real. It was sincere. It was everything he wanted.

He rests his cheek against the top of Eddie’s head for a moment, lets out a sigh from all his thoughts and then he does it. He kisses the top of Eddie's head and squeezes him tighter. And to his surprise, Eddie kisses him right back. His lips touch Steve’s neck and they stay there, again and again, he kisses him until he’s straddling Steve’s hips and his lips meet his jaw and Steve stops breathing.

His eyes blown wide, his hands fallen to his sides, he’s frozen. Eddie notices and pulls back, he cups Steve’s jaw and stares at him, “hey… I’m sorry, I can—

Steve doesn’t let him finish, he simply grips his t-shirt and pulls him down into a real kiss. Lips pressed firmly together, eyes squeezed shut— on his end, at least. It’s not Eddie's turn to be shocked still. Steve holds him there for a moment and then releases, noticing Eddie’s now frozen as he opens his eyes. He laughs, finding him so un-godly cute, “Sorry…”

“No, no, don’t apologize,” Eddie says in a mere whisper, still dumbfounded that that really happened. But he comes back to reality, he stares at Steve’s lips and then back up to his eyes, “Kiss me whenever you'd like, pretty boy.”

Steve sits up with Eddie still in his lap, chest to chest now, he cups Eddie’s face, “same goes for you, handsome.”

So, Eddie kisses him this time, sweet and gentile and everything Steve’s ever wanted. It’s slow and sweet, and his lips are soft, Eddie wraps his arms around him and holds him close. Steves is the first one to initiate more, swiping his tongue across his bottom lip, Eddie almost moans as he lets him in.

Steve's hand slips from his cheek, down his neck and rests on his chest before he wraps his arms around Eddie’s middle and tugs him in even closer. He’s never had a kiss that feels like this: there’s love and passion and a familiarity that feels like they’ve kissed a million times before.

He’s not sure how long they kiss, but it feels like hours.

Glorious, fantastic, and magical hours that he never wants to end.

When Eddie finally pulls away he doesn’t look too happy— which worries Steve. “I love this, but I’ve gotta piss so goddamn bad, dude.”

Steve laughs, “Go, go pee and then we can continue this in the bed, my ass is going numb.”

Eddie steals one last kiss, “Okay, I’ll be right back. Might get some snacks too… the munchies are kicking in.”

And then he’s gone, leaving Steve alone in his room… he reaches over for the walkie-talkie on Eddie’s bedside table, pulls out the antenna and changes the frequency to the one he and Robin use. It’s late, she’s probably asleep, but he’s allowed to wake her up when he needs her.

“Rob? Robin? Are you up?”

He waits a moment and then he hears it, she groans, “What?”

“It happened.”

“You’re gonna have to be more descriptive, dingus,” she bullies him. “And speak up, where are you?”

“I’m at Eddie's, he’s gonna be back in a second but… but we kissed. It happened, Rob.”

“Do you want a parade? Some gay confetti cake?” She teases, tired and not in the mood but he can hear her slight smile.

“No, I just wanted to tell you,” he smiles like an idiot on his end. “And I told him I love him, so there’s that…”

“Congrats, you kissed the same sex before I did— can I please go back to bed now?” She begs.

“Yeah, sorry, I’ll see yo tomorrow,” he lets her go. “Night, rob.”

“Night, dingus,” he says back and then the line goes dead. She’s turned it off completely.

He flops back to the bed with the walkie pressed to his chest and the most shit-eating grin plastered to his face. He’s never felt so happy in his life. And Eddie sees it. He leans against the doorway, bag of chips in hand, just smiling back at him.

“You know, I always wondered what my dad meant when he said I was more like Wayne than anyone else in their family, that I had to be a Munson like my mom said because I’m his twin…” Eddie explains and Steve sits right up, nervous that he was caught.

“What?”

“Wayne’s had the same boyfriend since I was like 14,” he explains. “They see each other in the mornings when he’s coming home and his lovers getting ready for work. He brings him coffee, they get a few minutes to just chat and then he'd come back here to make sure I was ready for the bus… and I didn’t know he was his boyfriend for a long time. I actually didn’t know for sure until we were in the hospital, and Scott was there, holding Wayne’s hand.”

“Wait, that’s why Mr. Clarke was always around?” Steve can’t believe it. “I knew they were friends but… oh my god?”

Eddie makes his way to the bed and nods, “They’ve been together for a while. And happily. If it wouldn’t fuck with his job, they’d be living together… he has a second room in his house so they’ve been thinking about pretending to be roommates but, I don’t know who’d buy that.”

“I would’ve,” Steve assures him. “Believe me, that is not the first thing I think of when I see two older dudes hanging out.”

“And if Wayne moves in with him… then I get the trailer,” Eddie explains. “And there’d be more room for your things… and you’d never have to leave…”

“Oh,” Steve’s heart swells. “You’d want that?”

Eddie nods again, “I want you for as long as I can have you.”

“How does forever sound?” Steve teases, wanting that too.

“Perfect,” he agrees before lunging at him for another kiss.

—

When December 16th rolls around, Steve has all his things packed, they load it all into Eddie’s van and keep the non-essential things at Dustins in his cellar. It’s a relatively easy move, the hardest part was organizing Eddie’s closet so Steve’s things could fit in there. He convinces Eddie to donate some things, but by “donate” he meant put shit in a box and give it to Mike.

And Wayne’s home that day too, he doesn’t go back to work until 8pm which means that he can make them dinner. He’s s happy to have Steve around, slightly because he’s loved Steve ever since he dragged Eddie out of hell and to a hospital— but mostly because Eddie loves him. They’re a little family.

And, speaking of family: Scott comes over too.

The 4 men sit around a little table and chat and laugh and celebrate the start of something new. Something beautiful. New love, but more specifically, Gay love.

“Um,” Steve starts to speak when the conversation starts to lull. “Do you guys know any other lesbians in the area?”

They nod, “Yeah, we do, why?” Wayne asks.

“My best friend thinks she’s the only lesbian in the whole town and I thought maybe we could have like a gay New Year's party or something so she would feel less alone?”

“Does she have a fake ID?” Eddie asks and Scott glares at him. “What? Candace and Sharon literally run a gay bar in Indy, we could just go there all together.”

“You guys can go,” Scott waves his hands. “I am not going to a club at my big age. I am long past finding that fun.”

“Robin would love to go,” Steve announces for her. “We’ll find her something to use.”

“Candy isn’t above sneaking someone in,” Wayne teases. “You guys will have a blast.”

“Can I just say thanks again for letting me stay here?” Steve asks, feeling a little emotional with how amazing this is all turning out to be.

“Oh, it’s nothing,” Wayne waves it off.

“You could’ve even moved in with me, or just kept your things at my place,” Scott offers. “Any kid of Waynes is a kid of mine.”

He gets a little choked up, unsure of what to say, he just smiles. “Thank you,” is all he can muster.

Going from having 1 dad who didn’t even care to call him on his birthday to having Eddie’s 2 dads who’d do anything for him, thanks to Eddie is just too much to handle right away. But he’ll get used to it.

This is his family now.

They’ll have to do this every year now; a big dinner on the 16th of December every year to celebrate coming home.

General Taglist

@ncsls0515 @stevesmunsons @reidsbookclub @sweetyyhippyy @manuosorioh @mrs-dr-reid @k-k0129 @squishyturtle @katsukis1wife @buckleyhans @mrs-ssa-hotch @ssavanessa22

Steddie

@nosaladallowed-ao3 @wifeyreid @girl-with-an-orange-cat @sunshinemunchkin @luna-munson83 @manda-panda-monium @steve-thehair-mamabear

#steddie #steve harrington #eddie munson #steve harrington fanfiction #eddie munson fanfiction #stranger things fanfiction #steddie fanfiction #clarkson

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heavyhitterheaux · 2 years

Text

For the Night

AN: Everything was good until it wasn't

Synopsis: You and Jack have been friends with benefits for a little over a year. When you suddenly become pregnant, you both have a huge decision to make.

Pairing: Jack Harlow x Reader

Requested by: my baddie @mortirolo 😘💕

Features: my boo @nattinatalia 😘💕

Slight NSFW 18+

Please Do Not Repost My Content Anywhere

You had just finished your last class of the day and was thankful to be able to collapse on your king sized bed in your new condo that your parents had recently gifted you. You had been on overdrive for the past few weeks and was longing for some type of break. That was when your phone went off signaling that you had a text.

A text from one of your favorite people in your life currently.

The two of you had crossed paths during the Creme De La Creme tour in your hometown of Atlanta and that was all she wrote. That led to texts, facetime calls, and eventually a friend with benefits type of situation.

You knew when you heard his ringtone, it could be multiple things.

Sex, meeting up at a secluded spot, or simply talking because he missed your company.

You could admit that ever since you began your friends with benefits situation with Jack, you really didn’t give any attention to anyone else. It’s not the fact that you eventually expected a relationship with him because you didn’t. You were simply focusing on yourself and there was no time for you to get distracted. You were currently getting your second degree at Clark Atlanta University in the hopes of eventually owning your own business.

Smush- I miss you, you busy?

You- It depends

Smush- Stink, stop playing

You- What you want white boy?

Smush- You know what I want so cut the shit

You- If you ask nicely, I just MIGHT say yes

Smush- I haven’t been in that pussy for about a month, you know you want this dick

You- I have a vibrator

Smush- Oh, so your vibrator is on the same level as me? Shit, say less and I’m about to return this Birkin I got for you

You- I’m playing smush!! I just got back home so come through whenever. Sooo, what color is my Birkin?

Smush- attitude left your ass real quick huh? 🙄

You- Just hurry up

Smush- You was just trying to dodge me and now you’re rushing me? Can’t have it both ways princess

You- I can do what I want and there isn’t a damn thing you’re going to do about it

Smush- Keep that same energy. Face down, ass up and it’s clear you need that attitude fucked out of you

You- Come and get me then

—-

“Uh huh, talked all that shit and now look. Can’t even take it.” Jack said while letting out a small laugh as he continued to pound into you.

Clothes were immediately thrown onto the floor as soon as he laid his eyes on you, not missing a beat.

“Fuck you.” You managed to squeak out between moaning Jack’s name.

“That attitude is still there, I see. Stop fucking running from me.”

“Nobody is running from you.” You said in between breaths.

“I literally just almost had to stop you from falling off the bed. You sure about that princess?”

You went quiet and was now halfway off of the bed again which earned another laugh from Jack.

“Get your ass back here and I asked you a question.”

“You get on my nerves.”

“Hmm, as good as I make you feel, I get on your nerves?” Jack leaned down to whisper in your ear before kissing the shell of it.

You were weak as hell for this man and didn’t really care if he knew.

“Hmm princess?”

“Yes!”

Jack had sped up his pace going in and out of you when he finally came and immediately flipped you over so that you were now laying on your back and began to eat you out again.

“Oh shit.” Your hands immediately went into his curly hair and you could just imagine the smirk that was on his face.

“You better spread your legs and give me some damn room down here. I know you want this, so act like it.”

—

The both of you were now lying in a comfortable silence with you resting your head on his chest and for some reason, you could feel that something was off about him.

“Smush?”

“Hmm?” Jack had his eyes closed and wasn’t looking at you as he responded.

“Are you okay?”

“Why wouldn’t I be?”

“Because I can tell when something is on your mind and right now the vibe I’m getting isn’t a good one.”

Jack sighed before opening his eyes to look down at you.

“I’m just overwhelmed. I know that this is what I asked for but it seems like I haven’t really been able to catch a break.”

“And I told you about that too.” You said while looking up at him with a disapproved look on your face.

“I know, but…”

“You seriously need to slow down sometimes.”

“Aww, is my stink worried about me?”

“If you don’t shut the hell up, I’ll take that right back.”

“Nah, I really do appreciate you though, but I’ll be fine, promise.” Jack said, leaning down to place a kiss on your forehead.

“I’ll always be here for you. You know that.”

“I know. Same goes for you.”

“How long do I have you for?” You curiously asked hoping for it to be longer than it was last time.

“Hmm, as long as my stink wants me here.”

“If that’s the case, your fans aren’t about to see you until 2025.”

“Not if you want me to buy you another Birkin. Those shits are fucking expensive.”

“Oh, well in that case, you can leave now.”

“Damn, it’s like that?!”

“I want a black one next.”

“You have a birthday coming up so I’ll see what I can do.”

You then reached up to place a kiss on Jack’s cheek, but he immediately turned his head so your lips could meet.

Jack immediately deepened it and flipped the both of you over so that you were now under him and slowly slid into you.

“You can give me one more round, can’t you princess?”

—

You hadn’t been feeling well for the past few days and despite your protests, your best friend Jessica was trying to convince you to take a pregnancy test and you just weren’t giving in. There was no way in the world that you could be pregnant.

“Jess! I am not taking one!”

“Why not?!? You told me that you and Mr. Sneaky Link were doing some nasty ass shit a little while ago so you should take one!”

“But he wore a condom! It’s probably just a stomach bug or something.”

“Oh yeah it is something. A WHOLE BABY!”

“JESSICAAAAA NO IT’S NOT!”

“Then take the damn test! Prove me wrong!”

You looked at the bag that she had shoved towards you and opened it to see that there were a total of six tests in the bag.

“What do I need all of these for?!”

“To make sure it’s accurate! Come on, go pee on the sticks.” Jess said as she was pushing you towards your bathroom and all you could do was roll your eyes.

“Fine, stop pushing!”

“I’ll be waiting out here!”

Once you had taken all six of them, you went back out into your bedroom to see that Jess had now helped herself to your snack drawer and was surrounded by snickers, reese’s, popcorn, and soda.

“I figured we could use some snacks to take your mind off of everything.”

You had suddenly gotten quiet.

“Jess… what if I actually am pregnant?”

“Then you have to tell him obviously and pause. How come you never even told me his name? What does he do for a living? You and my niece or nephew can’t be out here struggling.”

You had now become more interested in the bracelet that Jack had given you that was on your left wrist.

“Y/N…..?”

“I can’t tell you or at least I’m not supposed to tell you.”

“Bitch, I am literally your best friend so what the fuck is that about?”

“I had to sign an NDA.”

“Oh shit. Bitch, this is really serious.”

“Look, if I tell you who it is, it cannot leave this room because I literally cannot have him mad at me especially when I might be carrying his baby.”

“You are carrying his baby. No doubt about it. Is he like a CEO? Got a wife and kids already? NBA player? NFL? Baseball? Hockey? Soccer? Oh shit, it’s Drake isn’t it?”

“No.”

“Would you come out with it already?!”

Just then the timer on your phone went off signaling that it was time for you to see if you were pregnant or not.

You immediately dodged Jessica’s questions and made a beeline for the bathroom with her hot on your trail.

And there it was on the bathroom counter.

Six different tests.

All positive.

“Bitch, don’t think you can just dodge me. Oh.” Jess said as she looked down at the counter to see that they were all in fact positive.

“Jess, my sneaky link is Jack Harlow.”

“BITCHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!!”

—-

"Pick up, pick up, pick up." You were muttering to yourself as you called him on facetime for the fourth time today.

You didn't know if it was the butterflies in your stomach or the morning sickness that was making you want to throw up at this very moment.

You knew he would be back in the next few weeks, but you definitely couldn't wait that long to tell him.

You were about to burst and you had no idea how he was about to take this. If he were to take it like you did, then you knew that this wasn't going to end well.

The two of you weren't even in a relationship.

Would you even consider the two of you friends?

To a certain extent, yes.

Friends that would fuck each other’s brains out every time they saw one another.

But do friends get their friends pregnant?

This was definitely not on your 2022 bingo card.

"Y/N, what is going on? You miss me that much already? I just saw you two weeks ago." Jack answered in a joking manner.

Finally

But he wouldn’t be in a joking manner for long.

"I have to tell you something and this can't wait until I see you in person."

His facial expression then softened once he saw how much of a panic that you were in.

"Stink, you got me nervous. Whatever it is, we can fix it, you always worry too much."

And that’s when you blurted it out.

"Jack, I'm pregnant and I've taken 6 tests and I went to the doctor earlier today to confirm it."

That was when you saw all of the color drain from his face.

“Uh, stink, lemme call you back.”

Without another word, he hung up and you immediately started to cry.

“I knew it, I fucking knew it.”

Taglist:

@harlowsbby

@babyharleezy

@hoodharlow

@stefansalvatoresgf

@jackiehollanderr

@primadxna-girl

@dessmxsworld

@cockslutslurper3000

@raelorns21

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@exoticr0ses

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@iheartharlow

#jacl harlow #jack harlow fic #jack harlow fanfic #jack harlow x black reader #jack harlow x reader #jack harlow angst #jack harlow fluff #jack harlow concepts #jack harlow imagine #jack harlow x you

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cardcaptorsakura96 · 24 days

Text

Finding Each Other-Chapter 4

Fandom: Superman, Batman, Shazam, and Wonder Woman

Characters: Bruce Wayne, Clark Kent, Lois Lane, Dick Grayson, Diana Prince, Billy Batson, Jason Todd, Tim Drake, Kara Zor El, Damian Wayne, Cassandra Cain, Alfred Pennyworth, Lex Luthor, Jonathan Kent, Connor Kent

Summary: Clark Kent always knew he wanted a family. He just always thought it would be traditional like his parents. Little did he know that destiny had something different in store for him.

Chapter 1, Chapter 2, Chapter 3

As Clark woke up, he felt pressure on his arm and along his side. He opened his eyes and smiled. B was still cuddled in his arms on the balcony lying on the bench which somehow turned into a bed during their late-night fucking. Clark looked around and saw that the sun was out and shining brightly. He loved feeling the sun’s rays against his skin. He definitely needed it. It was the first time outside of battle that he ever felt sore but in a good way.

B was different from his previous partners. For starters, B was insatiable. He had the stamina of the Energizer Bunny. He kept going and going until Clark honestly lost count of the number of times they had sex after the tenth time. As insatiable as B was, he was a little surprised that B took off everything but his black t-shirt. When Clark tried to pull it off, B gave him a hesitant look which caused Clark to back off. Once he did that, B smirked and pounced on him. It was odd, but he did notice that B had several scars on his legs.

Maybe he has worse ones on his chest.

As Clark started caressing B’s leg, he smiled. B’s legs and arms were very muscular.

He must have a rigorous health regime to stay fit.

“Are you looking for round two?”

Clark looked down startled to see that B was smiling at him coyly.

Clark smiled while cuddling into B more and said, “I was just admiring is all. I am still recovering from our last round.”

B smirked and asked, “I tired out a big, strong, and handsome man like yourself? That I find hard to believe.”

Clark chuckled and said, “Believe it. I am sore in places that I didn’t know possible.”

B looked down and said, “Oh. Sorry about that. Sometimes, I can come across as too intense.”

Clark smiled softly while pushing B’s face up and gently caressing his cheek.

“I am sore, but in a good way. I have never been with anyone who could keep up with me like that before. It was very refreshing, and something I would love to explore again.”

B smiled coyly and said, “Ah, so you would like there to be a next time.”

Clark smirked and said, “Well, I did ask you on that date.”

B smiled as he leaned in to kiss Clark who leaned into the embrace. They stayed in each other’s arms until B leaned back and rested his head on Clark’s forehead.

B said, “I look forward to seeing where you take me.”

B leaned down to kiss Clark on the cheek and then started to get up.

“We should go downstairs and have breakfast.”

Clark looked up at B startled and asked, “Are you sure you want me to stay?”

B smiled and said, “Of course. Why wouldn’t I?”

Clark chuckled nervously while rubbing the back of his neck and said, “I didn’t want to create an awkward situation between you and your son if he is up.”

B chuckled while looking down at his watch and said, “You don’t have to worry about Dick. It is 8 am right now. Dick is normally not up until after 10 on the weekends.”

Clark breathed a sigh of relief. He thought that Dick was a cute and bright kid, but he didn’t want to have an awkward scene explaining why he was in the house in the same outfit as he was wearing last night.

The duo got dressed and headed out of the library. As they headed downstairs, Clark noticed B veered off to stop on the second floor. He followed B curiously until they went to the last room down the hall. Clark marveled at the room as they went inside. It was a huge bedroom. It had a king-size bed, an ensuite bathroom, several dressers, a computer, a TV, a gaming station, and a walk-in closet. As B headed for the walk-in closet, he said, “I just wanted to change into something more comfortable. If you like, you can borrow some of my stuff so you don’t want to walk around in your suit.”

Clark chuckled while rubbing the back of his neck and said, “I’m fine. I don’t want to be too much trouble.”

B smiled while coming out of the walk-in closet dressed in a fitted black tank top and grey sweatpants. Clark nearly drooled at how the whole look accentuated B’s muscles. B walked up to Clark with a blue t-shirt and black sweatpants.

“I have a spare you can use. It is really no problem.”

As B placed the items in Clark’s hand, Clark rubbed the back of his neck and said, “You really don’t have to do this. I will be fine in the…”

Clark’s eyes widened as he felt the fabric of the items. He looked down at the clothing in shock and began rubbing them more and said, “These are softer than even the sheep I used to help raise on the barn. Where did you get these?”

B looked up thoughtfully and said, “I would have to ask Alfred. A friend of his created a unique cotton polyester blend in his clothing for their shop in the UK.”

Clark kept rubbing the back of his hand against the fabric.

I have never felt anything this soft. This is so amazing!

Clark looked up sheepishly and asked, “Are you sure you're okay with me wearing this out?”

B chuckled and said, “I wouldn’t have offered if I didn’t mind parting with it.”

Clark smiled and said, “Thanks!”

Clark quickly put on his new outfit while B went into his walk-in closet again. As Clark finished getting dressed, B came out with a garment bag and placed Clark’s suit in it.

Clark smiled and said, “Thanks so much for this!”

B smiled and said, “You're welcome. Now let’s get something to eat. A certain someone left me particularly ravenous.”

Clark blushed as he followed B downstairs back to the kitchen. Clark was startled to see Alfred not only awake and dressed, but already placing down two plates with food already on the table.

As Clark and B sat at the table, B said, “Morning Alfred.”

“Morning young Sir. I take it you had a good evening given the smile on your face,” said Alfred as he headed to the table with cups and pitchers of orange juice, apple juice, and milk and a pot of tea.

B smirked while looking at Clark causing him to blush and said, “I had a really good time last night.”

Clark chuckled while looking down as Alfred came to the table with his own plate of food. After a couple of moments, Clark looked back up and noticed that on his plate were bacon, eggs, toast, sausage, and a stack of pancakes.

As Clark started to eat, he looked at Alfred thoughtfully and asked, “Do you guys normally have breakfast at this hour?”

Alfred smirked and said, “No, not on the weekends. However, I had a feeling you guys might be up. If you come around here long enough Master Clark, you will realize that I am aware of everything that happens in this household.” Alfred turned to Bruce with a raised eyebrow, and said, “And I mean everything.”

B paused eating to give Alfred the side eye while Clark nearly choked on the apple juice he was drinking.

Did he hear us last night? Crap! I hope I didn’t leave a bad impression.

B went back to slowly eating his food and said, “I hope we didn’t disturb you last night, Alfred.”

Alfred looked up at Bruce with a raised eyebrow and said, “I did get an unexpected surprise when I went to the library to return the book I was reading this morning. One might remember to want to close the balcony door next time.”

Clark nearly spit up his food. B looked over at Alfred sheepishly.

As Alfred went to take a sip of tea, he said, “I just hope that the young Sir would let you stay in one of the guest rooms next time. While the balcony has an amazing view, it does get chilly out there at night.”

B chuckled sheepishly and said, “You never hold back your punches, Alfred.”

Alfred smirked while drinking more tea and said, “No, not at all.”

Clark looked at Alfred mortified and sputtered, “I…am…so…sorry. I…know what…it….must…have…looked…..like…”

Read the rest on AO3

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hd-junglebook · 3 months

Text

Neutral

Part 4

word count - 3,076

The following day greets you with a fragile tranquility, remnants of the prior day's chaos fading slowly into memory. As you, Bellamy, and Charlotte prepare to depart from the refuge of the cave, the crackling of the dying fire serves as a backdrop to the scene.

"Alright, let's get moving," Bellamy declares as he adjusts the straps of his pack. "We need to find Atom and figure out what the hell happened."

Bellamy, ever the impulsive one, rushes past you, his movements quick and purposeful. "Come on, let's go!" He calls over his shoulder to Charlotte, his brow is furrowed in concentration, eyes scanning the trees for any sign of Atom.

You nod in agreement, your own thoughts mirroring his as they move forward. you hang back for a moment. Your thoughts drift back to the young girl, Charlotte.

Despite her innocent appearance, there's something about her that rubs you the wrong way, a nagging feeling of unease that you can't quite shake.

The forest calls beyond the mouth of the cave, sunlight spearing the lush canopy to cast scattered gold upon the floor. You breathe deep the scent of rich earth and new growth, a balm after the underground darkness.

Your reverie shatters at a bloodcurdling scream - "Charlotte!" - your cry ricocheting off stone walls.

Wildly you scan the shadows for her and Bellamy. And then you see him - Atom, lying motionless on the ground. Dread grips you like a vice as you rush to his side.

"Atom." His name catches in your tight throat. With a racing pulse you grab for Atom's wrist, desperate for the beat of life.

Bellamy joins your bedside vigil over Atom's fog-ravaged body. Together you take stock of the horrific burns, the damage beyond healing. Atom stirs feebly at your whispers, eyes slitting open to fix on your faces.

"You think he's gonna make it?" Bellamy asks, unspoken fear dimming his usual arrogance.

You shake your head, your own voice barely above a whisper. "I don't know, Bellamy. It doesn't look good." Atom stirs at your touch, his eyes fluttering open, and he begs for mercy in a hoarse whisper.

Bellamy falters, Adam's apple bobbing. "Easy there, buddy," Bellamy says softly, hand hovering awkwardly over Atom's quaking shoulder. "We're here to help."

Atom's cracking voice interrupts, raw with agony. "Please," he gasps, fingers plucking at Bellamy's sleeve. "...make it stop."

Atom's eyes roll toward you, teeming with pain and desperate appeal, pleading for relief.

An unbearable decision hangs before you as you exchange a tense glance with Bellamy, each of you silently questioning if you're capable of making such a decision. Bellamy clutches the knife Charlotte handed him with whitened knuckles, hesitating.

The heavy quiet shatters at the crunch of leaves. Glancing up, you spot Clarke rushing toward you, Finn and Wells on her heels. Her gaze darts between you and Bellamy, questions burning behind her eyes.

"What happened?" she demands breathlessly.

You gesture helplessly to where Atom lays. "We found Atom," you explain, your voice heavy with emotion. Clarke's eyes widen, taking in his charred and weeping skin. "He's been burned by the fog. We don't know if he's gonna...”

You trail off but Clarke understands. With calm purpose, she kneels beside the boy, meeting his clouded eyes.

Some silent exchange seems to pass between them before she takes his hand. Then, gaze never leaving his, she draws her knife in one smooth motion. Atom doesn't flinch.

Humming softly, Clarke ends his suffering, the mercy killing masked behind that gentle melody. You look away, blinking through a film of tears as she continues humming him into the next life.

Finally, the song fades to silence. Hesitantly you glance back to see Clarke straightening slowly, face pale but composed. Her eyes shine with memories of other losses requiring similar strength.

You watch mutely as Clarke ends Atom's agony with that mournful melody, closing your eyes against the final act of mercy. A prickle on the back of your neck makes you glance over at Charlotte.

The girl stands frozen, transfixed by the blood blossoming across Atom's shirt. Her youthful face holds no horror or pity - only an eerie understanding that chills your bones.

Clarke's voice breaks the spell and Charlotte's faraway look vanishes, replaced by wide-eyed innocence as she meets your probing eyes.

…

Twilight bled through the trees as you trudged back to camp, haunted and exhausted. Atom lay cradled in a makeshift bed, head lolling with each footfall.

Every glimpse of his burnt and lifeless face, now at peace, cut deep. You slipped through the camp gates to find anxious faces of your fellow survivors ringing around him.

Bellamy's grim head shake was all it took to curdle the atmosphere from one of hopeful anticipation to one of somber mourning. Only Wells lingered, features carved with sorrow.

“I’ll go dig Atoms grave,” he offered quietly, nodding toward a secluded glade. Bellamy nodded before he stalked into the deepening gloom beyond the fires pits.

Too hollowed out for conversation, you drifted toward the dropship. As you made your way there, your attention was briefly drawn to a commotion nearby.

Bellamy stood locked in a heated exchange with Murphy, his voice continuing to rise in anger. You spared a glance at the confrontation, witnessing Bellamy grab Murphy's shirt and scream in his face.

“You lose anyone here?" Bellamy’s voice was laced with bitterness. "Jasper?"

Murphy's response was curt. "Still breathing. Barely. I tried to take him out, but your psycho little sister..."

In an instant, Bellamy lunged at Murphy, pulling Murphy close by the collar of his shirt. "My what? My what?" Bellamy's voice was a low growl, filled with anger and barely contained fury.

Murphy met his gaze with a steely resolve. "Your little sister."

Bellamy's grip tightened, his frustration boiling over. "Yeah, that's right. My little sister. Got anything else you want to say about her?"

Murphy's expression remained impassive as he studied Bellamy's face. "Nothing. Sorry."

With a final shove, Murphy pushed Bellamy off of him. With a shake of your head, you turned away Stepping into the dropship, you were greeted by its familiar smell - a mixture of sweat and metal. It was a scent that had become synonymous with home, despite its less-than-pleasant connotations.

Inside, Octavia, Finn, and Monty sat together, their faces illuminated by the soft glow of dim lights. They passed around a bottle, their laughter filling the air as you walked over to join.

You accepted the burning mouthful passed your way, the fiery liquid providing a temporary reprieve from the ache in your chest

Octavia took a swig from the bottle, her face contorting slightly at the taste. "Ugh, this stuff tastes like it's been sitting out in the sun for weeks."

Finn chuckled, taking the bottle from her and raising it to his lips. "Well, beggars can't be choosers, O."

You reached out for the bottle, taking a small sip before passing it along. "Yeah, it's definitely better than nothing." A moment of silence fell over the group as they each took a turn with the bottle, lost in their own thoughts.

A sudden clamor jerked you back to the present moment. With wide eyes, you spun around to see Jasper half risen from his sickbed, his laughter echoing through the air despite the split lips that marred his face.

"Can I, uh, get a hit of that?" Jasper's request, though laced with exhaustion, carried a glimmer of his usual mischievous spirit.

"Jasper!" Octavia exclaimed, relief flooding her voice as she approached his bedside.

You stood beside him, your voice a soothing murmur as you attempted to calm his delirium. "Easy there, Jasper," you said softly, your eyes filled with concern.

Jasper grinned back at you, his eyes bright with feverish excitement. " “Was that a dream or did I get speared?" he said, his words slurred with exhaustion.

Octavia shot you a grateful smile, her hands still resting on Jasper's shoulders as she guided him back down onto the bed. "He's a tough one, that's for sure," she said, her voice tinged with admiration.

"Thank you for not dying. I don’t think I could’ve taken that today."

Jasper's playful demeanor returned as he quipped, "I'll try not to die tomorrow, too, if that's cool."

A bubble of astonished laughter escaped you, the tension of the moment breaking as you allowed yourself a moment of unbridled joy at Jasper's unexpected recovery.

…

Delinquents hurried about their tasks, their movements a blend of urgency and weariness. Some tended to the camp's makeshift defenses, reinforcing barricades and sharpening weapons. the sound of hammering and the shuffle of feet as everyone worked together to fortify their makeshift home.

Worn beyond exhaustion, you retreated to your dim, motionless shelter, seeking refuge from the heat.

No sooner had your body slumped atop the threadbare blanket than a blazing sunbeam shattered the tomblike gloom. Blinking against harsh daylight now spearing through your tent flap, you made out Octavia’s wild silhouette.

“Get up!” she ordered, panting as if she’d dashed straight here. “Jasper and I were exploring, we...look, you just gotta come see this.” A thread of real fear undercut her usual bravado.

“What’s going on?” Your chest constricted even as your legs obeyed, carrying you out beneath the unrelenting.

Octavia guided your steps, clutching one of your wrists and half-dragging you through the bustling camp to another tent where Clarke, Bellamy, and Jasper were already gathered.

Bursting inside, you blink at the grim tableau of Clarke, Bellamy and an alarmingly pale Jasper staring at a table. Octavia steers you to peer over Clarke's shoulder at a knife – and two severed fingers. Shock chokes the questions rising in your throat.

Clarke meets your horrified gaze grimly. “We found these just inside the gates.” She turns the knife around illuminating an embossed mark.

“The metal matches a broken panel on the dropship door.” Clarke took a deep breath, her resolve firm. "It means the Grounders didn't kill Wells. It was one of us," she stated, the weight of her words hanging heavy in the air.

“Wait...” Jasper’s voice shakes. "So, there's a murderer in the camp?" His wide eyes dart frantically, as if a culprit might emerge from the shadows. Everyone exchanges ominous looks in the fraught silence. Jasper's expression grew more troubled by the moment. "Clarke?" he pressed.

“One of over fifty suspects.” Bellamy folds his arms, radiating tension. “We need to keep this quiet until we figure out who’s walking around down here mutilating people.”

His stern glare settles on each member in turn, even young Octavia who juts her chin defiantly. “No one discusses this outside this tent. As far as the rest know, this never happened. Understood?”

Clarke's eyes flash, jaw set like stone. "Get out of my way, Bellamy," she warns, hand straying to the knife. "Whoever did this needs to answer for it." Jasper shifts anxiously from foot to foot in the wake of the standoff.

Bellamy stands firm, looming larger. "And what exactly is your plan, Clarke? Just gonna wave that knife around 'till the guilty party breaks down confessing?" Derision laces his scoff.

Clarke bristles, getting in his face now. "Yeah, maybe I'll start with you. What are you gonna do... keep people afraid and they'll work for you? Is that it?" she retorted, her tone dripping with sarcasm.

Bellamy barks out a harsh laugh. "Yeah. That's it."

As Clarke and Bellamy trade barbs, their words fade against the roaring in your ears. Surely concealing such darkness cannot end well...yet revealing it prematurely may unleash chaos. You clear your throat, drawing sharp eyes.

"Maybe - maybe Bellamy has a point," you venture, pulse thudding. "Panic helps no one." Clarke regards you almost betrayed, but you stand firm. “There’s more than one murderer in this camp... whoever they are, they're already outnumbered.”

Bellamy gives you an appraising look, a new glint of respect behind his brooding eyes as you continue, “It’s better to keep this between us. We don’t even know whose knife that is.”

"Oh, really?" she grinds out. " J.M. John Murphy. The people have a right to know.”

…

Clarke stormed out of the tent, her anger radiated. You exchanged a tense glance with Bellamy before your eyes wandered around the camp, searching for any signs of trouble.

In the distance, you spotted Charlotte standing alone, her expression troubled as she watched the unfolding confrontation. With a sinking feeling in your chest, you made your way toward her, your footsteps echoing off the dirt of the camp.

"Charlotte, are you okay?" you asked gently, your voice soft with concern as you approached her. She turned to you, her eyes wide with fear and uncertainty.

"I... I don't know," she stammered, her voice barely above a whisper.

You crouched down beside her, your gaze searching hers for any hint of what was wrong. That's when you noticed the blood on her hand, stark against her pale skin.

Your heart skipped a beat as you reached out to gently take her hand in yours, your fingers brushing against the sticky warmth of the blood.

"What happened?" you asked

Charlotte swallowed hard, her eyes brimming with tears. "I... I don't remember," she admitted, her voice trembling with fear. The voices of the crowd rang out in agreement with Bellamy and Clarke, their cries echoing through the air.

You turned just in time, watching in horror as the crowd grew increasingly antsy, their fury unleashed upon Murphy.

You pushed through the swarm, fighting to reach Clarkes side. The chants for Bellamy to finish the job filled the air, the sound sending a chill down your spine. You raised your voice above the clamor hoping to sway the crowd with reason.

"This isn't justice, it's vengeance!" you shouted, your words echoing through the tumultuous air. But despite your efforts, the mob seemed deaf to reason, their anger consuming them.

Bellamy and Clarke were at the center of it all. You pushed your way through the crowd, determined to reach him and divert his attention from Clarke as they exchanged heated remarks.

“This is on you, princess. You should’ve kept your mouth shut.” You heard

You pushed Bellamy’s chest, "Bellamy, stop them!" you called out, your words barely audible over the roar of the crowd grasping Bellamy's arm. "Murphy wouldn't kill Wells. It was someone else.” The chants grew louder, each of the delinquents shouting Bellamy’s name in unison.

For an instant Bellamy meets your eyes, something wavering behind his mask of cold command. But then his chin lifts with familiar obstinance. Bellamy wrenches his wrist away, striding toward the rigged noose where Murphy spits curses.

Your lungs burn, the frenzied crowd pressing oppressively as Bellamy kicks the crate from under Murphy's feet. the crowd erupting into cheers of approval

The cheers and jeers clash violently with the roaring panic in your head. You glimpse Finn shoving through the human wall, only to disappear under grasping arms. “What the hell are you doing? Cut him down! Charlotte what are you doing?”

Then a small voice shrieks out, "Stop!" The crowd parts for Charlotte's quaking form. "Murphy didn't kill anyone," she gasps. "I stabbed Wells!"

Stunned silence drops like a smothering veil. Bellamy's smugness cracks, eyes darting wildly. Charlotte's confession rings in your pounding head as she repeats, "I killed him.

It took a moment for you to understand, but you knew what needed to be done.

With a swift movement, you reached for the axe at Bellamy's waist, your fingers closing around the handle with a steely determination. With one swing you cut the rope holding Murphy captive, freeing him from his bonds as Finn hurried to untie him.

"Get Charlotte away from here," Clarke hisses at your ear. Her fingers dig into your bicep, face set with determination to quell the riot brewing again in Bellamy's wake.

Clarke gives you a small shove and you run, the girl's clammy hand clenched in yours away from the mob. Away from her unthinkable confession.

…

As you usher Charlotte back into the tent, anger burns hot within your body, thoughts swirling with the realization of her responsibility for Wells' death.

Clarke, Bellamy, and Finn enter the tent, their voices blending into a cacophony of resolution. Clarke's urgent call of your name pulls you out of your trance.

"Y/n? Hey, are you okay?" Clarke's voice cuts through the haze of your anger, her concern evident in her eyes.

Bellamy's voice breaks through, scanning your conflicted faces. “If you guys have any bright ideas, speak up. Now you stay quiet.” He groaned. Your response is immediate, the words dripping with bitterness. "We should hand her over," you declare.

Clarke, Bellamy, and Finn are stunned by your nonchalance, before they can respond, "She's just a kid!" Clarke argues as Bellamy scoffs, "Try again." Only Finn nods reluctantly, avoiding your gaze.

Murphy's tirade slices through the tent walls. With a frustrated huff, Bellamy pushes outside the tent to quell murphy’s incessant whining, Clarke and Finn on his heels.

Alone with Charlotte, you crouch down, taking her thin shoulders. "You need to run," you urge quietly. "Find Clarke and Finn." Wide-eyed, she manages a small nod. With one last glance, she disappears into the forest.

You release a long breath, hoping you didn't just condemn or save her. ‘the girl may be young, but justice down here allows no exceptions.’

You thought to yourself, if anyone balks, you know Bellamy will back you. His dark eyes told you he reached the same conclusion long before tonight.

…

Bellamy approached the tent, you watched from your spot in the tent. Within a few steps inside, Murphy struck with a sudden, vicious blow, knocking Bellamy to the ground with a sickening thud.

Your breath caught in your throat as Murphy's rage turned toward Jasper, his fists flying in a brutal onslaught. With horror, you watched as Jasper crumpled under the force of the blows, his cries of pain echoing through the air.

Before Murphy could inflict any more damage, he stormed into the tent, only to find it empty.

…

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antebunny · 10 days

Text

go for it, Lois Lane!

FOUR WEEKS BEFORE CLARK JUMPS OUT A WINDOW

Lois has a crush on Clark for six months, two weeks and three days before she asks him out. Not that she’s counting or anything. It feels a little silly to say “crush,” even though that’s what it is. It feels even sillier for a go-getter person like Lois to wait for so long before asking, but really, her reasons are completely logical and totally understandable.

First, she’s friends with Clark for about a year before she considers that he may actually like her back, and he’s only keeping quiet about it because he’s, well, Clark. After that is when the “crush” develops in which Lois continuously overthinks every act of friendship she previously took for granted.

Second, Lois is the senior at work, even though they’re the same age. For the first couple weeks or so, it was her job to show him the ropes, which makes speculating about a relationship feel inappropriate. Though as far as improprieties go, Lois is not sure this one is even on the list.

Third, it’s never a good idea to date someone from work. This sticking point holds Lois back for a while until she realizes that Clark is not just a friend from work.

“Uh, where do you want the fridge?” Clark’s voice is muffled from behind the boxed side-by-side refrigerator held precariously in his arms.

It’s move-in day for Lois and her new apartment, and she recruited a bunch of friends to help her. Friends from work, friends from college, people who just happened to be in Metropolis at the right time. Mostly they’re just free labor to her, but Lois bought some very nice wine and snacks to share, and she started off with her closest friends.

“Just put it on the kitchen floor!” Lois calls back.

Clark is one of her favorite friends.

This is the realization that sinks in as Clark settles the refrigerator carefully on the kitchen tiles. Even if one of them quit working at the Daily Planet, Lois is confident that they’d still find time to meet up. They are friends outside of work too.

“Phew!” Clark catches Lois’ eye from across the living room and smiles that goofy smile of his. He rolls his shoulders back as he straightens, but there’s not a hint of sweat as he wipes the back of his hand across his forehead. “That was pretty heavy.”

Lois rolls her eyes fondly. He’s obviously lying; there’s not a hint of perspiration, no heaving chest, or anything other sign of exertion. It’s kind of sweet that he feels the urge to comfort her about the difficulty of lifting her boxes. Unnecessary, as Lois never had any plans to carry it around herself, but sweet nonetheless.

That’s just how Clark is. He’s kind of a coward, but he’s surprisingly strong. And so what if he’s not a daredevil? This isn’t the 1600s. She doesn’t want him to grab a horse and a lance and joust for her honor. He’s thoughtful, he remembers the little things, he respects her, he’s quietly funny, he can cook, and he is genuinely kind-hearted. Of course she likes him.

One by one, her friends bow out and head home. Ellis helps her get the last rug down, gleefully samples all of her wines, and has to be driven home by Xochitl. Perry swipes a handful of snacks on his way out, Irene takes the subway and a taser, and Meg, self-proclaimed expert bedroom decorator, sets up hangings and decorative pillows until her phone hits 10% battery and she catches a midnight cab home.

In the end, it’s just Lois and Clark, settled in her newly-furnished living room and talking into the wee hours of the morning. Politics, arts, home decor, lead pipes in housing projects, superheroes and the proper way to grill a chicken; Lois will lose her voice before she runs out of conversation topics. She wishes she could have this regularly. Just her and Clark, passing around a bottle of wine or that mysterious red-blue ice cream flavor that Clark likes.

Clark, Lois knows, lives alone, and it’s so hard for a big guy like him to take the subway at midnight. Still, he’s had a little wine, so it’s not ideal. Maybe that’s why, when Clark eventually slaps his knees and reluctantly says that he should get going, Lois speaks up.

“You could stay.”

Okay, so it’s not the wine that drops her stomach off a cliff when he rises and heads for the door. But in any case, he pauses at her words, and glances at the couch. It’s white and soft, ideal for sleeping, but Lois doesn’t have a change of clothes for him. At least, nothing that fits him. Clark had only intended to help a friend move into her new apartment.

“Do you have a spare blanket?” Clark asks. He tips his head to the side. “For the couch?”

Lois hesitates, still thinking of what he will wear tomorrow (Sunday) even though no one in Metropolis will blink twice at a man walking around in a giant marshmallow costume. Really, she muses, it’s better for him not to wear clothes at all. And then she’s thinking of her nice new bed, which deserves a housewarming party of its own, and maybe it’s the wine, or the lighting, or the (to emulate Clark) gosh-darn genuineness of Clark’s question, but–

“Don’t have to take the couch,” Lois blurts out. “Could come to bed with me.” She’ll blame the wine to the end of time, but her cheeks immediately color deep red. “That’s not how I wanted to say it. I don’t mean just–I like you.”

Oh, this is embarrassing. This is really quite off-game for Pulitzer prize winning journalist Lois Lane. She swears she usually has more game than this.

Clark smiles the crooked little smile of his. “Are you asking me to be your boyfriend, Ms. Lane?”

Well, she always knew that Clark was at least as embarrassing as her.

Lois tosses her dirty blond hair back, one hand on hip, reclaiming her dignity through performance. “And if I am, Smallville?”

Clark beams. “Then yes.”

Faster than Lois knew was humanly possible, Clark crosses the space between the front door and the arm of the couch. Lois rises to her feet, vaguely shocked by how much taller Clark is than her when he’s not hunching his shoulders as per usual. The breadth of those shoulders nearly halves when he’s hunching them, too. He hides so much with the way he carries himself. His sense of humor, his silent, steely convictions, his compassion; everything that makes him Clark Kent.

He’s not hiding anything now. Clark bends his head down, a boyish smile on his face. Behind those thick glasses of his, his eyes are shockingly blue. The stubble on his chin brushes against her forehead. He leans in. And all Lois can think is: holy shit, I can’t believe that worked.

Whoever said the course of true love never did run smooth? Lois thinks it’s pretty easy.

SIX MONTHS BEFORE CLARK JUMPS OUT A WINDOW

Lois discovers Superman’s weird obsession with her around the same time as she’s learning about the existence of Superman. The Flash has been running (ha) around Central City for a few years now, the Batman is somewhere between urban legend and dangerously real vigilante, and everyone knows Wonder Woman. Superheroes are not uncommon. But Superman is the first one to really stick for Metropolis. And as always, Lois Lane is right on the case.

She’s worried, now, that her persistent, journalistic pursuit of the guy might have been taken as interest. Perhaps this worry could be interpreted as ego-inflating, i.e. can you believe it? Superman is just soooo obsessed with me. But Lois can safely make this claim from her unwanted vantage point of Superman’s arms.

He’s saved her from falling to her death, or so he says. Lois doesn’t know that she was truly in danger of falling, but she’s not going to argue with the man when he’s carrying her hundreds of feet over Metropolis. Survival instincts 101: don’t talk back to the only person standing between you and certain death. Thank you for coming to her TED Talk. And please note that this is the first red flag.

In any case, she sure feels weak in the knees when he sets her down gently on the roof of the Daily Planet. He hovers for a moment longer, about a foot off the rooftop. Like he’s forgotten that people generally like to have conversations eye-to-eye.

“If you ever need me, just give me a shout,” Superman says, in a way that’s probably supposed to be comforting.

Then he flies off without waiting for a response. So much for having a conversation. But Lois is more preoccupied with the implications of give me a shout. Just how far is his hearing range? Can he hear her if she’s underground? Can he hear her in the office? Is he eavesdropping on the conversations she has with coworkers?

Lois makes it down to the Daily Planet offices in record time. This is not the first, and, distressingly, probably not the last time that Superman has dropped her off on the rooftop of the Daily Planet. She slinks back into her cubicle, glances left and right, and ignores the knowing looks of her coworkers.

“Hey, Bea,” Lois rolls her swivel chair backwards and places an arm on the divider of the desk of her colleague, Beatrice Langford. “Superman ever invite you to dinner?”

Bea stares at her blankly. “No? Why?”

“Just curious.” Lois rolls her chair back to her desk.

Lois is pretty sure that Bea is more conventionally attractive than her, though there’s no accounting for taste. True, Lois is the one pursuing his case on the regular, but just about everyone in her office has had an interaction with Superman, and she hasn’t had significantly more than the average.

Still, she’d probe Bea more if she weren’t so worried about Superman overhearing. That’s another problem: the fear that he could be watching her at anytime. The more she learns about his abilities, the more scared she becomes. He can hear her heartbeat through a skyscraper. He can see through anything, can smash through every material that is commonly found in a major city. Bullets break on his skin.

And he asked her to dinner, just over a week ago.

Lois turned him down, of course, as politely as she knew how. Worried, again, about antagonizing the person she was stuck on a rooftop with who could fly, shoot lasers with his eyes like he’s in Star Wars without the cool lightsabers, and send her flying off said rooftop with a flick of his pinky finger.

Superman has never been anything but polite, if somewhat distressed at totally reasonable times. Still, getting asked to dinner by someone like him is what turns his obsession from weird to worrying.

She looks to her left. Ideally, she could talk about this with Clark. But funnily enough, he’s out of the office again.

#superman #clark kent #lois lane #already posted but wanted to do an official post #just for this #my writing #my fanfiction #antebunny's ficlets

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themultifandomgal · 9 months

Text

Matt Casey- Fight For Us Pt3

Ella is at home with her nanny, a wonderful lady named Zuri, who has been with us since Ella turned 1

"There could be squatters inside" Severide says to dad

"We don't have long on this one" dad replies "YN make sure you and Shay are ready for smoke inhalation victims"

"Got it" I give him and nod. All I can do now is sit back and what the others work. Nervously I watch Matt run into the fire

"The smokes looking pretty bad" next thing I know Matt is walking out with an elderly man. I rush over to him and Matt helps the man sit down

"Your in good hands now. YNs the best of the best" I give Matt a little smile and place an oxygen mask over the man's head while I check for possible burns.

As Herrmann and Mills come out of the building the fire seems to get worse. Mills states that there was someone else in the building and he wants 1 more minute to get the person out. Dad calls it and we all move back just in time as the building collapses.

Unfortunately word gets out that a man died in the fire and now it's all in the news

"Happy Halloween grandad" Ella runs over to dad in her princess costume

"Happy Halloween Princess Ella. Guess what? After school I'm gonna break out a bottomless bowl of treats"

"Yay" she claps before running into the firehouse to say hi to everyone

"How are you holding up?" Dad asks

"Alright I guess" I shrug following dad inside holding Matts hand

"We will be once this is all over with"

"Momma Kelly gave me sweets"

"He did? How lucky. But let's eat them later yeah?"

"You best say by to everyone, mommas gonna take you to school" Matt says looking at the clock

"Hey, Lieutenant Casey, YN I lust

saw your car out front. Something happened to it" Niki says walking in

"Ella stay with grandad a moment" I say following Matt outside with Kelly not far behind me to see our tires slashed

"Damn it" Matt sighs

"You want me to drive Ella to school?" Kelly offers

"Please that would be amazing. I'll see if Zuri can pick her up after school and drop her off here" Kelly walks off to go and get Zuri "Matt?" I nervously say "please tell me this isn't anything to do with Voight"

"It probably some kids messing around. It's Halloween after all"

"Hope your right"

Matt ends up ringing a tow truck for the car, Severide has offered a lift home later while Zuri has picked Ella up from school and brought her to the firehouse

"Thank you Zuri"

"It's no problem I'll see you tomorrow"

"Ok let's tell uncle Kelly your here so we can go trick or treating"

"Truck 81, Ambulance 61. Man down, 3500 block of North Clarke"

"Ok I promise that as soon as I'm back we will go ok"

"Ok" Ella shrugs. I take her to niki and ask if she can watch her for a bit, which she agrees to.

Shay and I jump into the ambo and shay drives to the location. On arrival it's party central. We get out of the ambo and take the gurney out

"Halloween sucks" Shay says looking around at all the fake injuries. Thankfully Matt gets a location on the injured person and we follow him into the crowd. A man is lying on the floor shaking

"Shay take his head. Has he taken any drugs?" I ask a woman who's stood with us

"No, just a couple beers. Then all of a sudden

his eyes rolled back in his head and he dropped"

she replies

"Does he have a history of seizures?" Shay asks as I place in an IV line

"I don't think so. But this is only our second date"

"Alright ready turn him over" I say as Cruz slides the back board under him

"Hey, let me help out, fellas.." a man in a fake fireman costume walks over

"Stay back, sir" Matt warns

"Yeah how about givin' me a C-4 tube and lidocaine drip?"

"Let them do their job" Herrmann says standing in the way of the fake fireman and me

"All right, come on! Move it out!" Matt says as Cruz and Hermann lift the man on to the gurney, Shay and I take off to the ambo.

After we arrive back at the firehouse I grab my things and finally take Ella trick or treating while Matt stays at the firehouse just for a few more hours.

#one chicago imagine #one chicago #chicago fire #chicago fire imagine #matt casey imagine #matt casey #matt casey x reader #matt casey x oc

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