He was about to kill you, Lex. Or divulge something you didn't want me to know.

— SMALLVILLE, "Forever" (4.21)

+ bonus from "Arctic" (7.20):

Madison

Pairings: Ethan Ramsey x Victoria Clarke

Word Count: 1.3k

Summary: Ethan and Victoria head on holiday to Connecticut

Rating: General Audiences

Category: Fluff

The car pulled into a space overlooking the waterfront of Connecticut. The sun was shining brightly in the sky, the water glistened in the distance and the couple who were smiling at the scene in front of them got out of the car to get a better look at the view.

“It’s so beautiful.” Victoria smiled as she closed her eyes and allowed the sun to shine on her skin.

“It’s not the only thing.” Ethan replied, wrapping his arms around his pregnant wife, caressing her bump.

“You always come out with that line. You’ll have to think of some new ones soon.” Victoria laughed as they made their way to the hotel reception.

“Oh don’t worry. I have plenty ready to praise you when the twins are here.” Ethan replied carrying their bags.

Victoria and Ethan checked in and made their way up to their room.

“This view better be worth it. We’ve been waiting 6 months to see it.” Ethan laughed.

Victoria unlocked the door. “Well I hope you’re satisfied.”

Ethan walked over to the window staring out it for a few seconds. He looked away and towards Victoria, holding out his hand, she took it without hesitation.

“It’s perfect. I can’t wait to spend the week here.” Ethan smiled.

“Ready for some new memories?” Victoria looked up at him.

With you by my side? Always.” Ethan pressed a kiss to her lips.

Victoria sat up in bed, rubbing her belly softly as Ethan slept soundly beside her. It was rare for her to be awake before him but as she got further into the pregnancy, she found herself waking up at random times.

The sun was peeking through the gap in the curtain and Victoria knew it was going to be a good day.

With great difficulty, Victoria got out of bed and headed over to the curtains, pulling them back and opening the door that led them onto their balcony. The warm sun enveloped her skin and Victoria smiled.

She couldn’t believe that in just 3 months they would have their twins with them. It was an exciting but nerve wracking journey. Victoria couldn’t wait to be a Mom but she was worried she couldn’t be good enough. If one baby was meant to be tough, then what would two be like?

Victoria’s thoughts were disturbed by a gentle hand on her shoulder. She turned to see her husband, hair disheveled from sleep and tired eyes smiling down at her. “You okay?” He asked.

“Yeah. Just taking it all in. Our next time away we will probably be a family of four. It’s surreal to think that.” Victoria smiled.

Ethan took her and lead her back to the bedroom, sitting down on the bed and pulling her close to him. “Where would we go on our first family holiday?” He looked up at her.

Victoria smiled rubbing her hands into his shoulders. “Somewhere on the east coast. Maybe we could bring them here. I think they’d love the beach.”

“If they’re anything like their parents then they’re going to love the beach. We should also take them to Miami. A special place for both of their parents.” Ethan smiled running gentle hands over her stomach.

“That sounds perfect.” Victoria replied.

Ethan pressed two kisses to Victoria’s stomach, wrapping his arms around her and pulling her close to him.

“I’m too big for a hug like this.” Victoria laughed.

“No you’re not. And you never will be. Soon we’ll be able to have a hug as a family of four.” Ethan smiled.

A couple hours later, the couple were strolling amongst the town gazing into the shop windows. They saw this as the perfect opportunity to get some bits for the twins.

“I think we’re going to have to expand if we’re buying more things.” Ethan chuckled as Victoria dragged him into another baby shop.

“It’ll be worth it. And this place does second hand things! Exactly what we wanted!” Victoria smiled.

“I don’t know why I agreed to this.”

Victoria turned to face him. “Because you can’t say no to this face.”

“Maybe I should. Then I’ll get my way.”

Victoria scoured the shop, looking at all the toys on the shelves. They had clearly made a little boy or girl happy, hopefully she would find something that would make her twins happy as well.

Her eye caught a toy giraffe on a display, Victoria picked it up, smiling at how soft it felt in her hands. She thought about teasing Ethan by buying it, he was always receiving giraffe jokes from her.

“Don’t even think about it.” A voice said from behind Victoria. She turned with a laugh to see Ethan shaking his head.

“But look at how cute it is! Equally as cute as you.” Victoria winked.

“Absolutely not. You’re going to be making giraffe jokes for years.” Ethan replied.

“Fine. I’ll pay for it then.” Victoria shrugged.

“Wait.” Ethan huffed getting his wallet out of his pocket. “If it’ll make you happy.”

“Best husband ever.” Victoria grinned pressing a kiss to his cheek.

They paid for the item and headed out the store, ready to continue shopping together.

Victoria looked up from her book to see Ethan swimming in the cold water, the sun glistening off the muscles of his hard exterior.

“Admiring something Mrs Ramsey?” Ethan winked as he walked out of the water and headed towards her.

“Just my super hot husband. This lady is very hot and flustered by what she sees.” Victoria grinned.

Ethan smiled. “Then it sounds like my job is done.” He grabbed a towel and sat down next to her. “How are you three doing?” He placed a hand on her stomach.

Victoria flinched at the cold touch. “We were fine until you put your cold hand on us! But in all seriousness, we’re okay.”

“Have I ever told you how beautiful you are?” Ethan pressed a kiss to her cheek.

“Lots of times. Today I’ve coined the phrase beach whale.” Victoria chuckled.

“I’m going to have to disagree with your observations there Mrs Ramsey. Today I would like you coin the phrase Aphrodite to you.”

“Oh really? And why is that?” Victoria raised an eyebrow.

“Because.” Ethan slid closer. “You are the most beautiful woman I have ever met. And I am so lucky to have you. And so are our twins.” Ethan pressed two kisses to her stomach.

“You know I’m starting to like the beach more. If these are the kind of compliments I’m going to get, I should make it my mission to go to the beach more often.” Victoria laughed.

“You don’t need the beach for that.” Ethan wrapped his arms around Victoria. “I’ll compliment you anywhere anytime.”

“In that case, keep talking Mr Ramsey.”

Ethan pressed a kiss to Victoria’s lips. “As you wish Mrs Ramsey.”

Victoria stepped out onto the balcony for one last time. Today was the day they were going home to Weston. Victoria had enjoyed their little getaway but she was looking forward to sleeping in her own bed tonight.

It had been an amazing holiday and they were now going back to their normal life, Victoria wasn’t sure what the future held.

“That’s the last of the packing done. We should go and check out.” Ethan said standing beside her.

“In a minute. I want to soak up this view for as long as possible.” Victoria replied.

Ethan smiled. “I don’t blame you. It is beautiful. Bit like the view from our home.”

“Unfortunately we don’t have a beach to look out to.” Victoria giggled.

Ethan chuckled. “No but we do have some amazing fields that stretch for miles. Perfect for early morning sunrise.”

“I know you’ve missed it. We get it back soon.”

“Back to work, to reality. It always feels strange after a holiday.”

“What do you reckon the future holds?” Victoria asked.

“Exciting things for the both of us. And we’ll get to face them together. So come on Mrs Ramsey. Let’s go home.” Ethan held out his hand.

Victoria took it and the couple made their way out of their hotel room. Ready to go back to Boston and everything that was familiar to them.

Whatever they would face they would face together. There was no doubting that.

Madison looked so beautiful when I made edits for it, it makes me want to go lol

Tagging in reblog

to fall on deaf ears

[prompted by myself, using "I never ask for help because I'm not sure I know how." + "It's alright to feel broken every once and a while. And it's alright to take time to heal." off of that prompts list to expand on a vague idea I got from a dream a few months ago. read on ao3 here or continue below] 

“If you got a callout tomorrow to the restaurant where you got shot and Officer Clark died, could you focus?”

He pretends that it’s just like any other restaurant that serves them up a crime scene. He ignores that even while the name of the restaurant had changed, just as he had changed his exterior style with a buzzed head, the insides were still the same. There’s still the slits of warm, golden yellow light lining the walls, radiating a gentle glow to add to the elegant, intimate atmosphere.

There’s still the brick tunnel that’s overlit with fluorescence, a segue into the kitchen where it all started.

Where it all went so horribly wrong.

He can still see the pool of blood seeping down the corridor. Spreading to the walls under an imposing shadow answering his desperate calls that fall on dead ears.

He can still smell the gunpowder.

“Could you be there for your team?”

Sara puts a hand on his shoulder, gently shaking him. She gives him a look and he shrugs her off, eyes fluttering and plastering on a smile to indicate he’s fine. 

He gets to work.

“Would you want you backing you up right now?”

He thinks he’s okay, just one step at a time. One breath at a time. There’s no more threat, the restaurant has been cleared so they can investigate the body lying motionless on the floor. 

A body lying in a pool of blood. Arms spread, eyes closed.

A discarded weapon just out of reach.

A body that doesn’t just look like him…

It is him. 

A shaky laugh mingles with a sharp breath, shaking his head in disbelief, he thinks about pinching himself because he must be dreaming, he’ll wake up in just a minute and get his assignment to an unrelated case that doesn’t have his name written anywhere except for his signature on the field report.

But even as he falls to the floor out of a reflex—the same reflex he had in a house of a hoarder—when there’s a loud crash from the kitchen that sounds not completely, but still close enough to a gunshot, he realizes this isn’t a dream. 

It’s a waking nightmare.

“Nick!” Sara calls, reaching out her arms after Nick immediately backs away, shielding his shot arm with his other. An embarrassing whimper mixes with his cry—his plea of “No!” and Sara eventually gives up as he huddles himself under a table, a small table that would seat a couple on a date that he then knocks over to protect himself with the same barricade that Ray and Papa—the real target of the mad doctor who viewed Nick as nothing but a nuisance in his way, and treated him as such when he shot him without any sort of hesitation or bargaining or empty threat of telling him to back off—which he wouldn’t have done anyway, of course, but perhaps in hindsight, in another dimension, perhaps he would find himself behind the safety of the table. Perhaps he would have been able to fire a few more shots to incapacitate the serial killer. 

“Nick—” Sara starts again.

“Get down!” Nick warns her, because there’s a shadow approaching from the kitchen—he readies his gun—his finger on the trigger—

“Nick, no!” 

Sara bats the gun out of Nick’s hand, but the damage is done. A shot is fired, and it’s fortunately a miss, lodging its way into the cemented wall of bricks, engulfed in the shadow cast by one of the stationed uniforms meant to babysit the CSIs as they conduct their investigation. 

“Jesus Christ, Stokes! What, did you think I was a ghost or something?” the officer sneers with a red face, and Sara shoots the man a sharp glare before placing herself in front of Nick.

Any words he may have had to bite back were lost anyway to his hyperventilation, still trapped in the morbidly vivid flashback of the shooting. Clark’s shooting. His shooting. 

This wasn’t just any restaurant. 

This is where he was shot.

And this is where Nick Stokes almost died. 

That’s his reasoning for his unfortunate reaction to what he thought was a real threat, but just as before, his call falls on deaf ears and he’s exiled from the restaurant and stripped of his defenses.

Catherine soon rolls up with the coroner, having been called immediately. Their eyes only just meet as she gets an earful from Brass, who is ranting on about how she should have known better than to send Nick there, especially not after what had happened.

Nick did have to wonder if this was some spiteful attempt to show him that no, he’s not fine. That he needs to go back to therapy. That he has a twisted definition of recovery to the point where he thinks he’s already recovered when really, there’s still blood on his hands and a hole dangerously close to his heart.

And to make matters somehow even worse, the next scene he’s sent to after a brief suspension that’s sugar coated as “mandatory vacation,” is with the good doctor himself, and across the street from the Clark family.

They are among the prying bystanders that flock the perimeter of the crime scene tape. He approaches them, because he feels they are owed an explanation, not just for the horrors that happened on their street, but for the horrors of the past that he never got a chance to testify to. Not to them, at least. They didn’t want to hear him.

And unsurprisingly, they don’t want to hear him now either.

The children hug around their mother, and Clark’s widowed wife spits in Nick’s face before he can even open his mouth. The nearby uniforms don’t stop try to stop the commotion, as murmurs through the crowd then break out, “is that the CSI that killed Clark?”

He knows they wouldn’t listen to the truth even if he told them.

He nods as respectfully as he can, before turning away and coiling his fist as he walks back towards Ray.

“You okay?” Ray asks in a careful voice. 

“Yeah, yeah, fine,” Nick shakes off.

“That was Officer Clark’s family, wasn’t it?” 

“Yeah...Ye—” Nick stops mid sentence, losing his breath and his face contorts into a reluctant cry that he pushes back down into his chest, pressurizing the pulsing wound that stings near his heart. He shakes his head and keeps walking, not allowing himself to break down in front of his esteemed colleague, let alone the general public. 

He’ll hold it in, as he always does, until he’s safe in the privacy of his own home.

But as he’ll soon come to find out, that privacy is just as much of a facade as the bravado he continues to put on in order to do his job. 

So instead, he settles for the brief moments of privacy he gets in the locker room, which has always acted as a sort of sanctuary for him, dating back to his days on the football field in high school, or the baseball field in college. The time to reflect after a long and grueling game, the adrenaline having sweated out of his body and he gets a moment to think to himself before he has to either celebrate a win or mourn a loss with the rest of the team. The rest of his family.

The time to gather himself before he goes to a home that’s not a true home.

It’s a broken one. 

A home where monsters spy on him. Where demons attack him. 

Where he can’t sleep without fearing that the wrong move will blow it all up. 

“Nicky?” 

He lifts his head, and drops the shirt that he was holding in his hands. 

“Were...you listening to anything I just said?” Catherine asks in a slow voice. 

“Yuh-huh,” Nick smiles as he picks up the shirt, quickly putting it on to cover the scars that seem to scream out of his skin. 

He hopes that she doesn’t pick it up too, and realize that it’s the same shirt he wore the day Warrick died.

“You seemed like you got lost for a minute,” she smiles sweetly at him, scratching the top of his head. “What’s the matter?” 

“What do you mean? Nothing’s the matter.” 

“Nick. I’ve known you for over eleven years now,” Catherine sighs. “You may look like you have a healthy body, but that tired look in your eyes tells me...you don’t have a healthy mind.” 

He meets her eyes, glistening with the same softness that his mother had on the night that she came home to find him sitting in the dark. 

And for once, he tells the truth in a call that falls on listening ears.

“I never ask for help because I’m not sure I know how,” Nick admits, his eyes still transfixed on the shaking hands in front of him. “I just...I still feel so...so…”

Broken.

Catherine sits down next to Nick, taking one of his fidgeting hands and curling her fingers between his. She wraps her other arm around his shoulder, hugs him tight to her body. 

“It’s alright to feel broken every once and a while,” she tells him. “And it’s alright to take time to heal.”

Nick nods silently, his lips quivering as he tries to stop the flood of tears by shutting his eyelids, but one still rolls down his cheek on the side of his face and onto the hand that’s holding him. 

“And you will heal,” she assures him. “I promise.”

He hasn’t healed from the shooting, no matter how much he pretends that it didn’t affect him.

The ghost of Officer Clark still haunts him, as well as the souls he’s taken by his own bullets. 

He hasn’t healed from being buried alive almost six years ago, his newfound claustrophobia and aversion to fire ants in particular conflicting with the longing for solitude and his new passion for entomology. 

He still hears Walter Gordon’s voice telling him what’s going to happen every time he’s trapped by a green light.

Even though it was a long time ago, he hasn’t healed from the slow burning terror of being stalked. Before he moved out of the house, he would slowly discover things that Crane had moved, altered or even taken from him.

Yet he still has one of his jackets that Crane had “graciously” picked up from the dry cleaner’s. 

And he’s definitely had plenty of guns shoved in his face, and with every new barrel he stares down he feels himself transforming into something hard, something that will take a lot more to damage—but he still hasn’t healed from that very first time outside of the training field. 

He wonders, if Holly Gribbs hadn’t died, would he have died in her place?

“It just feels like I never will,” his voice, fully warbled in a sob that tangles his throat. “I-I haven’t f-for years.” 

And he will never heal from the childhood trauma that he’s done everything he could to drown with repression, only for it to resurface with the same ease as a beach ball floating in water. Following him. Bumping into him, reminding him of what happened that night and what was taken from him. 

“You will, Nicky. You most definitely will. And I’ll be here, we’ll all be here for you until you do.” 

She cups his head to her chest and lets him release the tangled web that’s ensnared him, only letting him go when he feels he’s ready, and helps him stand back up and take his first step into a full recovery.

Down Below (Chapter 68)

Summary: After being sent down on Earth with the other prisoners from the Ark, Y/N Reyes faces series of events and learns about survival. With new things happening around her, she is now starting a new chapter in her life.

Pairing: Bellamy Blake x reader, John Murphy x reader, Raven Reyes x sister!reader

Word Count: 2.8k words

Warning: swearing, mention of sex, critical injury

✤  ·  ✤  ·  ✤  ·  ✤  ·  ✤

Raven's head rose up as she saw me leave Marcus' room. She read my facial expression, making sure that I handled everything well in there with him.

'Everything okay?' My sister asked as she walked towards me.

'I'm okay.' I forced a smile, thinking about the critical condition he was in and also what Jackson mentioned earlier. There was a slight chance he was going to make it after surgery.

'Oh, don't act like you care all of the sudden.' Abby said, arms crossed while she leaned by the wall.

'Abby, shut up.' Raven defended me, 'It's easy for you to blackmail kids and electrocuting them with neck collars. Why are you actin-'

I quickly turned to Abby, 'Excuse me? Neck collars?'

'Yeah, tell her Abby. Tell my sister how you not only blackmailed her but also me into making that stupid machine for your next fix.'

'Raven, I'm sorry!' Abby cried, guilt flushed across her face as she saw how upset we both were. 'I didn't mean for any of it to happen!'

Balling my fist, I tried to keep my anger in. It was one thing to mess with me but to manipulate and hurt my sister was way out of line. 'You laid your hands on my sister again?'

Her eyes widen, recalling the time where she slapped Raven when Clarke ran away from camp to save our friends from Mount Weather. 'It was wrong and I'm sorry. I feel guilty about what I did to Raven.'

'What you did to me was wrong but why don't you apologize to Y/N too?' Raven took a step towards Abby, 'You got everyone fooled, even Kane but you can't fool me. How dare you force her to take innocent lives?'

'You weren't down there, you wouldn't understand.' Abby claimed.

'I understand that you used her to kill people for no reason. You didn't have to force anyone to eat but you chose to threaten them. Even manipulating Kane to go against Y/N.' Raven's eyes start to water, 'Who even are you?'

'A coward. She's a coward that can't do shit for herself, uses and abuse children for anything to go her way.' My eyes start to water as I remembered the pain. 'You made Marcus hate me, thinking I was this disgusting human being. You abused my sister for your stupid pills!'

Abby's knees weakened, falling to the ground as she started to ball her eyes out. Watching her feel guilty made me feel nothing, it was hard for me to stand here when the urge to punch her kept crawling under my skin.

'Don't act like you feel ashamed about any of this.' I chuckled, I could tell I was going crazy the way my laughter came out of nowhere. 'You have no idea what pain I've been through, what Octavia went through. And for me to find out you used my sister too?'

'Y/N...' Raven tugged on my arm, watching me as I pace back and forth in front of Abby.

'What?!' I yelled, 'She ruined my whole life! She made my last six years a living hell!'

Raven nodded, tilting her head as she signaled me to go walk with her. I swallowed the large lump in my throat, fighting all the anger I had in me.

I kicked the wall before I walked off. Me pretending that it was Abby didn't work at all, it startled her a bit as she jumped up. Rolling my eyes, I walked away from her.

Raven followed me down the hall, grabbing my hand as she smiled at me. 'Are you okay?'

'I'm fine, Raven.' She wiped the tears off my face. 'I'm sorry she did all that stuff to you.'

'No one knows because she did it behind closed doors.' Raven shook her head, 'Just like what she did to you.'

She was right; Abby did take advantage of me knowing that I was vulnerable to do something about our situation. She even made me feel as though that it was the right choice, that forcing people to eat was a necessity to save Wonkru.

Not a day goes by where I constantly blame myself about everything that happened down in the bunker. I hate myself for going too far, putting myself in a dark path where I felt like I've belonged.

'I know you blame yourself for what happened and I may not have been there but I know you, Y/N.' Raven hugged me, 'You do everything for others. Just like how you always prioritized me after our stupid parents left. You've always made me feel like the best sister anyone can have.'

'That's because you are, Raven.' I hugged her back tightly, 'I'm sorry I wasn't there to protect you. I hate everything that happened especially because I couldn't do anything about it. I'm so angry.'

'Yeah, I saw your face. I had to pull you out before you beat her up.' Raven chuckled, leaving our hug as she cupped my cheeks.

'I wish I can stay up here with you. We're always apart from each other since I've been locked up in the Skybox.' I sighed.

She smiled. 'Once we find out what this moon has to offer us, we can be together like we used to.'

'Moon? It's not a planet?'

'Nope! And I can't wait to do more research, all of this is so fascinating.'

I laughed, enjoying seeing my sister smile and enjoying what she loved to do best; researching science and building things. 'Okay, nerd. I guess I'll get you back to doing your thing and I'll go do mine down on the ground.'

'Yeah, go have fun on your adventure date with Sir Blake.' Raven jestered, raising her eyebrows. Her facial expression suddenly changed, seeing that I wasn't blushing like I always did. 'What's wrong with you two?'

'Nothings wrong, uhm sort of. More of there's something more with me I guess.' I couldn't figure out the words to say.

'Is this about what I told you before cryo? About Echo and him?' She instantly became worried, feeling guilty about everything. 'I'm sorry Y/N, I didn't mean for-'

'John and I slept together.' I blurted out, biting my lip as I saw Raven's eyes widen. 'Please don't make it a huge deal.'

Raven squealed, covering her mouth as she tried to process everything. 'It is a huge deal! Wait, when did this happen? Does Bellamy know? Give me more details.'

'Right after you told me about Bellamy kissing Echo and nope he doesn't know.'

'Oh wow. So you ran way from me to Murphy's open arms to open your legs.' Raven smirked, laughing out loud which made me roll my eyes.

'Yeah, yeah, laugh it off.' I flicked her lightly on her hand, 'I'm serious though. I feel something for him again.'

'Are you sure you're not just confused?'

'I mean, maybe but it doesn't change the fact that he cheated on me.' It felt to weird to say that out loud, it was even weirder to admit that I had feelings for John.

This whole thing with John might be just confusion like Raven said, but it felt too real to think that it was a fling. I wouldn't act on my feelings if it wasn't for the right reason, I could never do that to John.

'Now that you mention it, he did look like a sad puppy when you kicked him out of Kane's room earlier.'

'Now you're making me feel bad.'

'Don't. You have every right to be mad at him, especially because he never told you.' Raven admitted, 'But you have to talk to him.'

She may be right, I mean Raven was always right. But I didn't want anything to ruin what I had; Bellamy did say he wanted to take things slow.

I just couldn't do it, not right now.

✤  ·  ✤  ·  ✤  ·  ✤  ·  ✤

Clarke pulled the lever, exposing us to the new planet or as Raven corrected, moon, our new home. I held my breath, looking at everyone's expression to see if the place was habitable.

'You can breathe, Y/N.' Shaw chuckled as he saw I was struggling to hold my breath.

Exhaling dramatically, I ran outside. It had been a long time since I felt freedom and peace. After being in the bunker for all those years, we were rescued to be brought back to a massacre. It felt nice to finally have a new beginning.

Murphy ran right behind me, picking me up around and spinning me. 'New planet, here we come!'

'Actually, it's a moon. Raven confirmed.' I laughed, ignoring everyone else's gaze knowing that people are definitely questioning what was happening between us.

'You might wanna be careful, Y/N. Your wound on your leg is still healing.' Echo unexpectedly warned me. I didn't know how I felt about that, given the fact that she kissed my boyfriend. Or maybe even more.

As much as I wanted to be angry at Echo, I couldn't. It wasn't like she knew me and Bellamy's situation, I think. I did envy her a little bit; she was able to spend all those year on The Ring with him.

'Ah yeah. Thanks.' As I awkwardly replied back to Echo, I followed Miller into the woods.

Shaw rushed next to me, started to walk beside me as the rest of the group were behind us. 'Uh, so what's going on with you and Murphy?'

I turned to him, raising my eyebrow. 'Why are you asking me all of the sudden? Did Raven ask to stalk me?'

'Her exact words were "you're my spy."' Shaw chuckled, 'Sorry, was that too direct?'

'Yeah, you can say that.' I laughed, walking side by side with him into the forest. 'I appreciate you looking after Raven. I know you two have been through a lot with McCreary.'

He nodded, 'Raven is strong. I can say she helped me through a lot and not the other way around. I've heard stuff about you and I'm guessing the mental strength runs in the Reyes family.'

'No, no not at all. Raven and I can't be compared.' Giving him a fake smile, I was hoping to change the subject. 'Anyways, I'm really glad she has you.'

'You don't give yourself enough credit, Y/N. I've heard a lot about you.' Shaw tapped me on the shoulder, 'But I'm really glad to have her too. She's very special.'

As I smiled at Shaw, I bumped onto Miller's back who stood still in front of me. Curious of why he stopped, I turned to his gaze. 'Miller, you shouldn't stop whe- woah.'

There was a huge body of water spread across, light glistening as it reflected from the sun. A huge smile spread across my face, I'd never seen something so beautiful.

'Wow. Thank you, Monty.' Miller mumbled, turning around and looking at me. His smile was as big as mine, if not bigger. 'We definitely don't see this at the bunker.'

'Well, race you to the water!!' I laughed as I pushed Miller to the side. Cheater! I heard him yell from behind, eventually catching up to me.

Miller splashed water on me, playing and lightly pushing me into the water. 'You really thought you can beat me.'

'Meh, you only did because my leg is fucked up.'

'Don't have fun without me now!' John ran from the shore, jumping into the water as he splashed me and Miller.

In the corner of my eye, I saw Bellamy watching me with a smile on his face. The instance guilt rushed through my body, knowing that the best thing to do was talk to him about everything that was happening.

Bellamy motioned me to come over, he still had that smile on his face which made me assume he wasn't mad. I didn't really have a reason to say no, I decided to come up from the water and follow him.

'Are you avoiding me Reyes?' He blurted, taking a seat on the log. 'I- Did I do something? I know we're not necessarily dating but I don't know... I feel pushed away.'

It was hard to look him in the eyes, knowing that those secrets were hiding deep into his mind. Except I knew that he was keeping it away from me.

Biting my lips, I stared at the rocky sand. The way he looked at me, it was so intense and I could tell he wanted answers. At the same time I felt dumb, the way he acted as though nothing happened.

'How long were you going to keep it from me?'

'What?'

'If the Dark Year never happened, if Skafaiya was out of the picture and hypothetically we were still dating... How long would it have taken you to tell me about Echo?'

The look in his eyes changes instantly, that moment Bellamy knew exactly what I was talking about. 'Reyes-'

'What, Blake? What bullshit excuse are you going to pull from this?'

'It wasn't like that, okay?' He stood up as he buried his face into his hands, looking for words to say. 'W-we never had sex.'

A light laugh escaped my mouth, not believing what he just said. 'Are you serious?'

'Yes, we never slept-'

'You asshole!' I shoved him hard but that barely did anything, making it more frustrating for me. 'You're such an ass and nothing has changed since we met.'

I didn't want to shed any tears for Bellamy or at least show him that I was crying over this. Instantly, I walked away from the beach and into the woods.

How dare he say that he never had sex with Echo. Was I supposed to praise him, be happy that it just ended with a kiss?

All the talk about surviving for each other, loving each other and wanting to be my boyfriend felt like an excuse to keep me waiting for him. It was embarrasing for me to wait for him when he backstabbed me, in front of everyone that stayed at The Ring.

Bellamy tailed me into the woods, calling for my name over and over. Eventually he caught up, his legs faster than mine and my injury didn't get me far either.

'Y/N, I promise you. I promise it's not like how it sounds.'

'Do you hear yourself? Do you honestly think that any excuse is going to make this okay? You made me believe you'd wait for me when you told me to survive for you.'

'I am happy, Y/N! I'm so happy that you're here. You don't know how happy I was to see you we rescued you from the bunker.'

'Then why did you kiss Echo?' Tears streamed from my eyes, I felt deceived and tricked by Bellamy. I truly trusted him with everything to keep going for him. 'When you fought for me to stay, you made me feel like I was worth it, that I deserved to be loved by someone.'

Bellamy's face dropped, I saw in his eyes that he felt guilt. But that wasn't enough to make up the pain I felt.

'All my life I felt unworthy of love, Blake. My parents were assholes and Kane eventually left me too. John finally made me feel something until I got locked up, I thought it was a sign that maybe I didn't really deserve him.'

'Then we got sent down and that didn't go well, me and you were constantly rocky and Kane left me again at the bunker. I held onto you for so long after made me realize maybe Priamfaya wasn't the end for me, I told myself maybe Bellamy was someone that loved me.'

'Y/N...' He cried, cheeks wet from the tears that rolled down his face. 'You know I love you, I always have and always will.'

'Apparently not enough. You didn't think of me when you kissed Echo, you've done it more than once and that tells me you don't love me enough.'

'Please Y/N-'

'Stop, this is already hard for me. Just leave me alone.' Even with the tears I've shed, there were more I was holding onto that I didn’t want to let out. I just wanted to let everything out and cry, the pain was just too much.

Turning away from Bellamy, I walked towards the other direction away from everyone else. There was no way I was going back to the beach, I couldn’t face all of them with my eyes red and puffy from crying.

I walked deeper into the woods, not having any clue where I was going. There was a possibility that I could run into a new grounder on this mood, but I was too hurt to care.

Soon enough, I’ve gotten out of the woods and saw a huge field, I started to become curious of how far I’ve walked from the beach. As I tried to move forward, a sudden force field bounced me backwards and I started to feel pain all over my body.

‘Y/N!’ Bellamy screamed, running over to me as fast as he can. He was still crying, his tears falling on my neck as he hovered over me. ‘Y/N!'

Author’s note: This moodboard for chapter 3 was not a shameless excuse to post Lincoln glistening and shirtless ... OR WAS IT? 

a beer buds series: chapter 3

(available below & posted on AO3 here)

Timeline: this takes place during chapter 3 of 'apu' after Clarke has gone running with Lexa but before game night at Lexa + Costia's apartment

Beer: Whirlpool NEW ENGLAND PALE ALE

Soft and citrusy, Whirlpool is Night Shift's flagship New England pale ale. Pours hazy blonde with a nose of ripe peach and grapefruit. Sips juicy, fruity, and crisp, with minimal bitterness and big clementine notes. A bright, vibrant beer that’s wonderfully drinkable and remarkably refreshing.

ABV 4.5%

Whirlpool: Night Shift (Everett, MA) Lexa slows at the base of an incline, bracing her weight with her hands on her kneecaps while catching her breath. Lincoln extends his run by a few extra strides, resting his torso against the black metal railing of an overlook that juts above the harbor. They stand just six feet apart, regulating their breathing, while pedestrians, cyclists, and young children in strollers filter past. Although the sun wanes, arching towards the water, its heat has soaked Lexa’s shirt and shorts so that the material sticks to her skin in several places.

“Bit more intense than your last run?” Lincoln asks when he circles back to stand beside her.

Lexa stands to her full height, using the bottom of her shirt to wipe sweat from her face. “What do you mean?”

“Octavia tells me you managed to coerce Clarke into running with you the other day. Somehow I can’t imagine there were any interval sprints in that particular course.”

That jolt of nerves—of which she is now regretfully quite familiar—at the mention of Clarke has Lexa shrugging off a laugh and heading for the shade of the Memorial Bridge overpass. Her mind betrays her in the worst way as visions of Clarke in running gear, jogging beside her and cracking jokes, resurface yet again. She would kill for some ice cold water.

Either to drink or dump over her head.

She walks with her hands folded atop her head, triceps stretching pleasantly as she leans against the bridge piling. The cold stone presses into her skin through the material of her shirt, and Lexa focuses on the sensation. Lincoln follows her with an expectant smile.

“Clarke can be coerced by nothing, I assure you. She was the one who asked to come with me.” Lexa kicks lightly at Lincoln’s chiseled calf muscle. “Anyway, I sort of lost my running partner when he started getting laid, didn’t I?”  

“Hey, whoa, whoa,” Lincoln laughs, defensively holding up his palms towards Lexa. “You have not lost me.”

“Well, you’re certainly not as available.”

“Guilty,” Lincoln shrugs. “But, come on, you know how it is. You remember.”

She does remember. Lovedrunk and saturated by lust and desire—that overconsumption of physical touch that leaves no room for anything or anyone else. She remembers those first few reclusive weeks with Costia, both of them cancelling plans and shutting out the world.

It feels like someone else’s memories. A fading mirage from another life.

Lexa nods, conceding with a short exhale. “Yeah, sure. Of course.”

She stands to stretch her limbs and suddenly feels like she could run another ten miles.

“Let’s grab a beer,” Lincoln suggests, and Lexa is grateful for the change in subject.

“What—now? Where would we go? I’m disgusting,” she says, plucking her shirt from where it sticks to the skin of her stomach.

Lincoln bobs his head up the sidewalk, and Lexa’s stomach clenches to see the bright white siding of Dockside. “Octavia’s working. Let’s go bother her.”

“I need to shower,” Lexa stalls.

“Nah, come on.” Lincoln strongarms her, quite literally, by wrapping his arm around her shoulders and walking farther beneath the shadowed overpass. “The girls won’t care. We’ll sit outside.”

“Linc, I—“

“Nope, no arguments. Anyway, it’s Wednesday so Clarke is probably there too. Don’t you want to see your new best friend?”

Yes. All of the time. She is both the best and worst thing in my life at the moment. It is exceedingly problematic.

Lexa admits to none of this and instead allows herself to be escorted down the short path towards Dockside’s sunny patio. She angles her head so that she can see Lincoln’s face of self-satisfaction and scowls at his ridiculous smile.

:::

“You might not want to hug me, I’m incredibly sweaty right now.”

“Like that’s gonna stop me,” Octavia says, practically jumping into Lincoln’s embrace and landing a soft kiss against his mouth.

It’s brief and chaste, but Lexa nevertheless averts her eyes and lets her gaze fall across the boats in the harbor. They’ve approached the bar from its rear side, closer to the delivery hatch, crunching through the gravel lot that separates Dockside from the bridge.

“You guys are staying for a drink, right?”

Lexa quickly wonders if she can still sneak away for a shower and meet up with Lincoln later now that he’s got Octavia in his arms. “Actually—“

“Oh, no, sorry,” Octavia smirks. “That wasn’t a question. You’re staying.”

Lexa fully surrenders after that, following Lincoln and Octavia towards the patio entrance with a short laugh. Things could be worse than having friends hellbent on spending time with her.

It is this misguided thought that precedes Lexa’s gaze landing on Clarke through the windows that line the water.

Oh no, things are actually the worst they could possibly be.

Clarke in a strapless, summery dress. Clarke with her hair twisted at the back of her head in a delicate bun so that Lexa’s vision narrows to the shape of her bare neck and shoulders. Clarke’s bright smile as she spins to collect empty glasses from a table of two college-aged girls.

Lexa’s smile drains from her face, and when Clarke looks up to see her on the patio, she feels it like a punch to her abdomen.

She had not been wearing this particularly offensive dress during Trikru’s delivery this morning, and Lexa wonders if she often goes home on her long Wednesdays to freshen up and change clothes between shifts.

Perhaps she has a favorite customer coming in later whom she wishes to impress. Perhaps Clarke has invited someone to come visit her specifically, to make the gruelling shift more bearable. Perhaps—

“Grab a seat out here.” Octavia’s direction interrupts Lexa’s inconsequential thoughts.

Perhaps Lexa should stop theorizing about Clarke and her goddamn dress and pull her life together.

“There’s this obnoxious group of guys at the bar who keep trying to flirt with Clarke about kayaking,” Octavia continues. “I have to go rescue her, but I’ll be back with drinks.”

She leaves them with a quick brush of her fingers down Lincoln’s chest, and Lexa struggles to push images from her mind of Clarke being hit on as she climbs onto a stool across from Lincoln. The patio hasn’t yet filled with a late afternoon crowd, and she and Lincoln enjoy a minute or two of relative quiet.

Lincoln hadn’t undersold the location: the views at Dockside are stunning. The harbor is aglow as boats slice its shimmering surface. Lexa allows herself to relax under a setting sun. The sound of gulls in chorus with a quiet, perpetual clanging of cars going over the bridge soothe her previously racing thoughts.

When Octavia returns, it is with glasses of ice water, two, dripping pints of beer, and Clarke at her heels.

Lexa’s relaxation vanishes in a blink.

“Night Shift. Whirlpool,” Octavia says by way of explanation of their beverages.

Greetings overlap as Octavia places coasters and pints on the table, but Clarke’s voice, most prominently, rings in Lexa’s ears. “Hey.”

“Hi.”

“I didn’t know you guys were coming by today.”

“Yeah, neither did I,” Lexa responds, avoiding Lincoln’s eye as he kicks her running shoe beneath the table.

She studiously ignores the swoop in her belly when she catches Clarke’s playful gaze instead.

“You two look properly gross and sweaty,” she comments with that unnecessarily striking smile of hers.

“Pretty sure our run was just a bit more intense than the casual little jaunt you and Lexa did the other day,” Lincoln teases.

“Hey!” Clarke reaches across Octavia for the sole purpose of pinching Lincoln’s bicep until he squirms. “I was remarkably athletic and agile, thank you very much.”

“Yes, we’re all incredibly proud of your fitness,” Octavia adds, condescendingly patting the top of Clarke’s head.

Clarke turns to Lexa. “Tell them!”

“Your endurance should be commended,” Lexa tells her entirely straight-faced.

“I hate all of you,” Clarke responds, narrowing her eyes at the three of them.

Lexa plucks at the strap of her damp tank top and represses a grin. The movement curbs Clarke’s teasing smile when she spies Lexa’s hand.

“How’s your hand?”

Lexa looks at the bandaging wrapping her right palm, almost as if she had forgotten it was there.

“Oh. It’s fine. It didn’t bother me at all during the rest of my deliveries. Stings a little now—probably from all of the gross sweat.”

Clarke rolls her eyes as Lincoln finishes a sip of beer and asks, “What happened?”

“I caught that sharp edge on the truck latch this morning.”

“Shit, I keep forgetting about having that looked at,” Lincoln says. “Did you let Indra know?”

“Yes. I had to fill out paperwork for the injury, and she said she’d have the latch replaced.”

“Why don’t you come inside and let me change the bandage.”

Having Clarke’s doting attention when it’s just the two of them is challenging. Withstanding her genuine care and concern in front of their friends is horrible.

“Oh, you don’t have to—it really doesn’t feel that bad, Clarke.”

“Hey listen, I’m not covering your deliveries tomorrow if that thing gets infected and gangrenous,” Lincoln tells her.

Lexa shoots him a look across the table for his ludicrous commentary.

“There’s no sense in you sitting there in pain just because you’re stubborn. I have all the supplies inside. Come on, it’ll just take a minute,” Clarke says and then hesitates as if she had briefly considered reaching out for Lexa’s upturned hand.

Lexa squeezes her fingers into a fist, sending a sharp, stinging pain against her injured palm. It does nothing to lessen the image of Clarke reaching out to her, but it curbs her own reckless impulses to run her fingers along the delicate curve of her shoulder just to see if—

She buries the thought and swallows hard.

“Okay,” she finally says, sliding from her stool so that she is stood beside Clarke. Eye-to-eye with Clarke’s stunning blue gaze. “Thanks.”

A tingling suspicion runs up the back of her neck as she trails behind Clarke off the patio. When they enter the cooler, darker interior of Dockside’s main room, Lexa turns to see Lincoln and Octavia huddled together and ignoring them completely.

Her paranoia—among other things—is really getting out of hand.

Clarke leads them behind the bar counter and through a swinging door into the kitchen. Lexa has never had such unfettered access to this section of Dockside, and she suddenly feels acutely aware of her damp hair and running clothes underneath the bright fluorescent lighting. Clarke grabs a plate of something from the salad line, says a quick thank you to the woman removing stems from baby spinach leaves, and they exit through another door into a dim hallway.

“My corner office with a view,” Clarke says upon approaching a heavy-looking wooden door. “Just kidding, there’s no windows in here.” She bangs open the door with her hip and steps inside, waiting for Lexa to follow her. “But, it’s where I keep the first aid kit.”

Lexa steps across the threshold with a timid smile. She’s never been inside Clarke’s office and already it feels like a line she should not have crossed. When Clarke had patched her hand that morning, they had stood in the drafty storage room with its high ceilings and spacious shelving lining the walls. It was a familiar space and vastly different atmosphere.

This room is cramped and dim. Intimate. Lexa feels out of her depth within seconds.

Clarke sets down her plate of food to fetch the box of medical supplies and is already stood too closely. Lexa thinks she can actually smell her shampoo because Clarke is just that much shorter and her head is angled to focus on removing the old bandaging from Lexa’s hand.

“You didn’t have to do this.”

“I know,” Clarke says.

Her words are felt in short puffs of breath against Lexa’s upturned wrist. Lexa’s other hand fiddles the hem of her running shorts while her breathing shallows and her heart hammers loudly in her ears.

She hopes the tremors building in her stomach don’t translate to her hands. Particularly while one of them is gently held by Clarke’s careful fingers.

“Your mom is a doctor so I can trust you know how to properly assess a wound, right?”

“God no,” Clarke laughs. “She would probably be horrified by my technique. Or lack thereof.”

“Great. I feel better already.”

Clarke looks up at her with a smile so utterly devastating, Lexa thinks she should have risked infection instead. “I’m pretty sure you’ll survive.”

She wishes she had a modicum of chill when it comes to Clarke, but truthfully, she does not.

Lexa tries to keep her eyes anywhere other than trailing down the slope of Clarke’s shoulder, which is unfairly close and appears soft and smooth under the low light. She skims over the minimal clutter of Clarke’s desk to stop herself from shamefully ogling a close friend doing her a favor.

There is an assortment of hodgepodge frames that hang on the dark wooden wall behind Clarke’s desk. She sees a picture of Clarke looking much younger with a boy around her age, arms wrapped around each other and stood in front of Dockside.

She hears herself asking, “Who’s that?” before she can silently advise herself to mind her business and get out of this room as quickly as possible.

“All set,” Clarke says, and then turns to face the wall behind her desk. “Who’s who?”

There’s finally some small distance between them, and Lexa breathes out slowly. She looks down to her hand, freshly wrapped in soft white gauze, and flexes it twice into a fist.

“Thanks.”

Clarke’s voice is as soft as she has ever heard it. “You’re welcome.”

For a beat, they hold a steady gaze. It passes quickly, but not before Lexa’s pulse accelerates and her palms begin to ache with nerves. She breaks eye contact first, as she often does. She can hear Clarke quietly exhale a second later because the room is remarkably compact, but also because Lexa has started to believe that her body is attuned to Clarke’s the more time they spend in the same place.

Or, she’s just being dramatic.

“The, uh, middle frame. The kid hugging you outside of the bar.”

“Oh! That’s Wells.” Clarke walks towards the frame and plucks it off the wall so that she can examine it more closely. “He’s one of my closest friends and the reason I get to play bar manager at this lovely establishment.”

That has Lexa’s attention instantly, and she forgets her nerves in favor of learning something new about Clarke. “Oh, really?”

Clarke often does this—unintentionally creating distractions from Lexa’s problematic internal narrative. She drops these little tidbits of information that snare Lexa’s curiosity. Each time, it becomes easier to just relax and enjoy Clarke’s company without overthinking the way the air condenses around them when they are stood too closely. Between that and her penchant for terrible jokes, it explains why Lexa has been able to maintain any semblance of friendship.

“Yeah, we became friends in high school—we were both into the arts, so total nerds—but he left for San Francisco right after graduation. His dad owned and ran this bar for ages, but when his memory got worse and he had to retire, Wells more or less inherited a business he never wanted to manage.”

“And he asked you to take it over,” Lexa supplies.

“Yeah, he sort of caught me at an opportune time when I had no idea what the hell I was doing with my life.” She replaces the picture to its nail on the wall, crosses her arms over her stomach, and exhales a humorless laugh.

Lexa raises her eyebrows and nods. “I can relate.”

“Right.” Clarke’s short laugh is the last lingering sound in the room.

The moment stretches, Clarke watching her as if trying to solve a riddle. Three rapid knocks at the open doorway interrupt the heavy silence, and Lexa is glad she isn’t forced to be the one to look away this time.

“Call for you on line one, Clarke.”

Lexa recognizes Mindy’s voice at her back and watches as Clarke smiles and nods. “Okay thanks, I’ll take it back here.”

“Okay, boss.”

Lexa can hear Mindy’s retreating footsteps a moment later and shifts on her feet to prepare her own exit.

“I should let you—”

“I’m just gonna—”

Words trip over one another until Clarke’s embarrassed smile matches her own.

“Thanks again for …” Lexa raises her right hand to show its fresh bandaging.

“Try not to be so clumsy next time, yeah?” Clarke sits at her desk with a smirk and Lexa takes one, measured step backwards.

“I’ll do my best,” she grins.

She thinks that if Clarke showed up to the delivery hatch wearing that dress next Wednesday, she may very well sever her entire hand from her body from sheer distraction.

“Okay, you should get out of here—Lincoln will think I’ve taken you hostage, and I’m very busy and important taking calls in my fancy office.”

Lexa laughs in response, backing her way towards the open doorway. If Octavia has stayed to keep Lincoln occupied at their table, there’s no way he’s even registered her prolonged absence. She mock salutes to Clarke once she is back in the hallway.

“I’m leaving, Madame President. Proceed with your executive responsibilities.”

Lexa exits the darkened hallway to the trailing sounds of Clarke’s laughter.

:::

All Might’s blood freezes in his veins. He sees the other two react out the corner of his eye as well, realizing what her statement meant for them.

“...All Might, injured?” All Might asks about himself.

“Of course!” Chouko smiles again, but this time, it’s less kind. Something about it is...a tad twisted. Off. He hadn’t noticed it before, but he does now. There’s too many teeth. “It’s obvious if you just note the facts. He hasn’t been the same since, oh...seven years ago at this point, I think. Any good fan would point at the Toxic Chainsaw attack, but I know for a fact it couldn’t have been that. Toxic Chainsaw did have some very potent moves, but not enough that All Might couldn’t beat him with a single punch to the stomach. No, it had to be something after that point. Something that left him out of the public eye for months afterwards. Staving off a volcano eruption was the excuse the media gave, but I find it more likely now than ever that his decline is attributed to a villain attack injury.”

“Is that so...” Aizawa says, all of his previous humor gone. “Do you have an idea of where his injury is?”

“Oh yeah, it’s obvious.” She points towards the left of her stomach. “Right over here. Ever since his absence and then reappearance in America, he’s favored his right side over his left. Most of his punches and major attacks come from the right while his overprotects his left with explicit purpose. I mean, perhaps it isn’t as obvious as others, but all you have to do is closely compare previous videos of All Might to his more current videos.” She taps a finger against her lips. “That, and ever since his resurgence into the public eye, his public appearances have been dwindling.” Chouko raises her hands and sticks up all ten fingers. 

“It was ten hours back when he first started his reappearances. Nothing out of the usual.” 

She tucks her thumbs in. 

“Then, after the mass villain attacks during Hurricane Tatsuya, it dropped to eight hours.” 

She tucks one of her pinkies behind one of her thumbs.

“Seven after the Big Time Bomber’s attack on a Hilton Resort Hotel.” 

She switches from having two hands up to one full hand and one closed fist. 

“Five after a collaborative battle in America.” 

Then her thumb tucks in and pins her pinky finger. 

“Several battles in America left him at three hours of sight and air time by the time he returned to Japan last year.” 

Then two more drop, leaving a single finger left. The closed fist drops, and that single finger stays pointed upwards to the ceiling.

“Now, after the USJ, no one sees him but for one hour a day. Not even enough to do heroics outside of teaching his classes, and on the days he does appear in the public, he didn’t teach a class. And, well, don’t get me wrong, being a teacher is obviously a very admirable profession, but for someone as influential and needed as All Might to willingly decide to hide behind the school walls of U.A...it comes off less as a man doing a deed for the future of Japan and more like he’s hiding. Like a cat or wolf that hides away to die, in a sense.” She shrugs sadly, letting the finger curl in with the rest. “ A crude comparison, but I couldn’t help but think of it, despite how much I adore All Might.”

All Might’s hands dig into his pants, stricken by having his injuries nailed down to the absolute letter. And yet, the way she says she adores him... He doesn’t have to have Tsukauchi’s Quirk to know that it rings true. Not in any sick or demented way. She genuinely cares about him despite not truly knowing him face-to-face.

And yet...she’s revealing all of his secrets. Laying him bare before a friend who already knows...

And an underground hero who doesn’t.

Tsukauchi has to unclench his jaw before he speaks again. “This information—”

“Is not well-known, no. Nor do I talk about it to anyone online. I’ve heeded your warnings, Tsukauchi—some things are better for my eyes and mind only, and knowing that All Might is growing progressively weaker as time passes is not something just anyone on the Dark Web should know. A few have had growing speculations over time, but they’re often quickly shut down without having any hard evidence like I do.”

“If that’s the case, then why talk about this here?” Aizawa asks, getting to the point. “You must have assumed that Tsukauchi and I didn’t know about it.”

“No, I knew Tsukauchi knew.” She claps her hands together once. “He used to do a lot of All Might’s paperwork for a long time. He doesn’t have to do it now since All Might’s activity has dropped to one hour at a time, but think about it. An injured hero in constant contact with a policeman who has a Quirk able to distinguish truth from lies. Of course he figured out that All Might was getting weaker. In the end, this was more for your sake.”

“Do you expect me to thank you?” Aizawa’s eyes narrow.

“No, I never expect thanks.” Her fingers lace together. “I only expect you to work with information when you come across it. If you know something, you snoop about it. And if you snooped deep enough, you would find what I’d hope you’d look for.”

“Why do you know that I—” Tsukauchi begins to ask, before his teeth click shut. Then his eyes narrow. “Your hacking.”

Chouko smiles again, all teeth and glistening lip gloss. “The police has noticed my lower-level hacking because I make it obvious. I’ve seen a lot more than you think I have, Tsukauchi-san. ...Ah, but also, I just wanted to say, about what I said with the Dark Web not having an idea about All Might getting weaker. Just to prove the point I made about Shigaraki not being the leader...” She tilts her head, finger pressing against her lip, looking at All Might. “He somehow knew you were growing weaker, right? I saw a testimonial from Asui Tsuyu that mentioned he said such a thing. He wouldn’t know that since I didn’t tell him anything—I hadn’t even met him until tonight. So he must have gotten that information from someone else. And, well, I came up with a saying for this kind of thing.”

Her bangs part a little with her head tilted, and a single eye becomes visible again. It’s tired, much more tired than should be on a person so young. She stares at the three with that dark eye without malice, only a deep-seated exhaustion hidden behind her bubbly, soft, sweet voice.

“The information’s best from the horse’s mouth. And if you can’t get it from the horse, get the donkey the horse kicked.”

“The wealthy benefactor, Kurogiri as the babysitter, Shigaraki as a villain-in-training, his childish behavior, his obsession with killing All Might, the Noumu made to directly combat All Might...” Aizawa murmurs, then his gaze flickers up to the girl. “You’re saying the villain All Might fought seven years ago is still alive.”

Chouko nods. “Precisely! And yet...”

Her hands drop to her sides, and she stares at Yagi Toshinori with a strange sense of...sadness. Almost disappointment.

“Even as this lord of the underbelly continues to grow, All Might won’t tell a soul about it. And, to an extent, Tsukauchi-san, I feel like you’re at fault, too. How on earth can heroes prepare for a world without All Might if they can’t prepare for the adversary not even he could beat? Even if you two didn’t know that the person was still alive, you could’ve at least mentioned that, at some point, there was a man, woman, or enby capable of taking All Might’s breath away, literally. Because if All Might survived, at the least, heroes could be on the lookout for potential All-Might levels of evil activity.”

“But, if he had done that, what kind of peace could the world have? Wouldn’t that have left them in constant fear? And with many people knowing the same information, of course, someone would let it slip. What would the public say then. How could there ever be any peace?”

“And that’s your problem.”

Before All Might can ask what she means, she turns around and walks towards the back of the room, where a few chairs sat against the wall.

“What kind of peace is this? What kind of world do we live in now? Everyone is so dependent on a broken, shattering system, barely held up by a broken, shattering man who has truly done all he could, but you’re just that. You’re just a man.” She grabs one of the chairs and tugs it, pulling on it to get it where she’d been standing before. “And you, like all other men in the world grow tired. You grow weary. You grow sick, you decay, you die. At some point, you are going to die just like everyone else, unless someone has a Quirk that they’re willing to give to you that extends your lifespan. But even then, at some point, you’d stop being you. You’d grow too tired, too old in the mind, too exhausted. You’d be a tool more than a man, taped together by some mindless theories and ideas about the way the world should work rather than any solid resolve. And that’s not what I want. That’s not what anyone who truly cares about you wants.”

It isn’t until she sits down and looks him in the eye again that he realizes that she’s dropped any and all facades that she doesn’t truly know who he is. He must make his surprise obvious on his face, because she smiles sadly at him in a silent, pained reply.

“...How?”

“You introduce yourself as the Secretary of Public Affairs, so I guess it makes sense that you would also be around U.A. at times, but, well...the two of you look very alike, down to the eye color. You’re pulling an amazing Clark Kent, but with just a bit more thought, one would start to wonder why the Secretary of Public Affairs is seen more often than All Might is on campus, and why the two never appear in the same place at the same time.” She shrugs. “Sometimes, it’s really just as simple as logic.”

The other two men react beside him, but it’s dim compared to his focus on the girl herself. She sits in the chair before the three of them with her shoulders finally fallen, her back bowed, and for the first time, he truly sees the weight she has been carrying.

Her back reminds him of his own in a way that makes him very, very uncomfortable.

“So now. What I’ve given you all now is the bulk of my hidden knowledge. Everything that I’ve never told a soul. Everything that I’ve kept inside all of this time. Every floating idea I’ve had in relation to this. And tonight has confirmed it all.” Her voice...fades a little. Becomes a bit breathless, then increasingly so. “Everything I’ve feared is coming true. But now...now you all know about it, too. At least, you three do.”

She chokes a little, but her breathing smooths out.

“I likely won’t be able to do anything in jail. I won’t try to bargain with any of you on anything. I know that what I’ve done is wrong, even if I don’t regret it. But I know that I must face repercussions just like anyone else. That’s just the way it is. This is all I can offer anymore.” She reaches up and twirls a strand of her hair around her finger, her voice having dropped into a soft, meek tone. “You don’t have to listen to me if you don’t want to. I’m younger than all of you, after all. So much so that I can’t even be considered a younger coworker. But, if you’d be willing to take what I said to heart...I think you can possibly mitigate a lot of potential damage. That what’s happened already doesn’t have to be repeated in what will happen.”

She looks up at them, her other hand clenching into her shirt, her body starting to shake, as her breath comes harder.

“I...I’ll give you everything. All of my passwords, all of my flash drives, all of my secret folders, every partially-solved cold case, every side note I’ve ever taken, every secret that I’ve kept for as long as I could. I’ll give it all to you. Just...”

She finally sniffles, and a tear rolls down from under her bangs. Then another. And another. And her breath chokes on a sob.

“Just...just don’t...”

She her breath hitches again, and her body shakes once more before she can’t hold herself up in the chair anymore. She bows forward in her seat, pressing her forehead to her knees, her hair covering her face like a curtain.

“Don’t tell...don’t tell my mom...”

If I Survive, I’ll Dive Back In

Summary:  When it's too hot to sleep, Clarke sneaks out to the apartment complex pool, only to find her man-whore neighbour Bellamy is already there.

Rated E, ~3,300 words

It’s sweltering in Clarke’s apartment. She’s been trying to get to sleep for two hours now, but the heat hugs her skin, and she’s covered in a sheen of sweat. The air conditioner in her apartment broke last week and the landlord still hasn’t done anything about it. The shitty pedestal fan in her room does nothing but blow hot air around the room.

To make matters worse, she’s just spent the better part of an hour listening to the exaggerated screams of pleasure from some woman getting pounded by her neighbour, Bellamy. She knows his name is Bellamy because she can hear a different woman moaning it every other night. Clarke wonders if he tells them to do that, to feed his ego. Yeah, he’s fucking hot, but there’s no way he’s actually that good in bed. Clarke has been with men before, and they aren’t all that.

This particular woman kept calling him daddy, which Clarke personally finds kind of gross. Yet for some reason, her clit is throbbing, and when she slips her fingers into her panties, she finds herself dripping wet. Which also isn’t unusual. Sometimes she gets herself off, listening to him. She usually can’t hear what he’s saying, but just that deep rumble of his voice does something to her.

She always feels dirty after she does it, burning with shame, burying her head in her pillow, grateful that he has no idea she even exists, let alone that she’s masturbating to the sound of him fucking another woman. She blames it on the fact that she’s only gotten laid twice in the last six months. If she had someone fucking her regularly, she wouldn’t get so worked up at the sounds of skin slapping and bed creaking and man murmuring.

So now she’s lying in a pool of her own sweat, exhausted, pussy throbbing, horny as fuck, but the heat makes it too unbearable to masturbate or sleep. She picks up her phone to check the time. It’s after one. Clarke groans. It’s silent next door now, and Clarke heard tonight’s woman leave maybe fifteen minutes ago, which means there won’t be another show tonight. Which just leaves the heat to conquer, and then maybe she can get some sleep.

She considers taking a cold shower, which might help cool both her head and her loins. Or fill the bath with cold water. Or… her thoughts drift to the complex pool. Technically they’re not supposed to use it after 9pm. But if everyone else is obeying the rules, then there shouldn’t be anyone there to catch her. Besides, everyone else probably has working air conditioning and doesn’t need to go swimming in the middle of the night. She chews her lip.

Deciding that her need for some relief outweighs her desire to follow the rules, she gets out of bed. She digs out her old black bikini from the bottom of a drawer and pulls it on. She’s put on some weight since she last wore it, and it’s not exactly decent, but it covers the important bits and no one is going to see her in it anyway so it doesn’t matter. She pulls a pair of shorts and a t-shirt on over the top, grabs her towel and heads outside, through the courtyard and out to the pool.

She slows when she sees there’s someone else there, lying in a deck chair, smoking a cigarette. Her heart spasms when she sees it’s him. He looks so effortlessly cool, sprawled in the chair, towel around his waist, cigarette in his hand. Truthfully, she hates smoking, but she can’t deny it’s hot when he does it.

She dithers for a moment, trying to decide whether to keep going or turn back. It’s pretty dark, just the pool lights and some solar lights in the gardens on either side of the path she’s standing on, so perhaps she can sneak away without being noticed. But then, he’s facing towards her, so it’s entirely possible he’s seen her, and she’ll just look like a weirdo if she turns around and goes back now.

Taking a deep breath, Clarke continues down the path. He looks up when she puts her hand on the gate, the clanging metal alerting him to her presence. So she could have run after all. Well, too late now. Her eyes meet his as she opens the gate, and he takes a long drag on his cigarette. His hard chest is glistening with water droplets, and she has a vision of herself running her tongue over it. Blushing, she looks away from him, selecting a lounger across the pool from him and throwing her towel onto it.

“You’re out late,” he notes. Clarke glances over her shoulder at him.

“So are you.”

She turns away from him again. Her heart his clanging in her chest and she feels short of breath. Does he have to be so fucking hot? She hopes she’s coming off as cool and aloof, and not as the nervous wreck she feels like. She’s never actually spoken to him before, despite living next door to him for six months. He smirked at her once in the hallway when she came home drunk and he was saying goodbye to his latest conquest. Clarke thought about it for weeks afterwards, but he probably doesn’t remember.

Clarke pulls her shirt over her head, hands shaking slightly. She’s all too aware of him sitting behind her. Is he watching? She doesn’t know if she wants him to be paying attention to her or not. She pulls her shorts down over her ass, and she’s severely regretting her choice of attire. Which will he judge more, her chubby thighs and stomach, or the fact that her tits are practically spilling out of her bikini top? Not to mention her bikini bottoms have ridden up and are now revealing way more of her ass than she’d like, but she can’t do anything about it, because the only thing more unsexy that having your underwear ride up your ass is pulling it out.

Why she’s so desperate for him to find her attractive she doesn’t know. She doesn’t even like him. She just thinks he’s hot, and yeah maybe she’s imagined him fucking her. A lot. Even when she can’t hear him through the wall. But he goes through women like he’s competing for some kind of world record, so even if by some weird twist of fate, he actually wanted to fuck her, she wouldn’t degrade herself by becoming just another one of his many conquests.

She turns around, and he’s definitely watching her. She hopes it’s too dark for him to see the blush across her face and chest.

She walks towards the steps at the shallow end of the pool. There’s no way she’s diving in while he’s there, for two main reasons. One, it will make her hair all wet and flat and gross, and two, her tits will most definitely fall out of her bikini top. So, wading in it is.

She refuses to look at Bellamy. Mostly because she can’t without blushing. But she also wants to give him the impression that she couldn’t care less about him or his presence.

“How come you’re not asleep?” Bellamy asks her. God, that voice. So much for cooling her libido.

“It’s hot,” Clarke tells him. “My air-conditioner is broken.” She sucks in a breath as the cold water reaches her waist.

“Fair enough.”

Gaining some confidence, she looks him dead in the eye. “Plus, someone kept me awake with their moaning.”

He stares at her a moment before he smirks. “Sorry about that,” he says. He doesn’t seem genuinely sorry, though. “Do I keep you awake often?”

Does he keep her awake often? More than she cares to admit. She’s pretty sure that’s not what he’s asking though. “Well, I can hear everything,” she says. “So, yeah.”

“You should’ve said something sooner,” Bellamy says.

“What, and you would have stopped?” Clarke snorts.

Bellamy shrugs. “Maybe I’d make it extra special for you,” he winks. “Give you something to think about while you’re fingering yourself.”

Clarke’s mouth drops open. Does he know? Or is he guessing? Or is he just teasing her?

“I never hear you. Dry spell?”

Clarke snaps her mouth closed, flushing. “Maybe I just don’t need to make a show of it.”

Bellamy smirks at her, like he sees right through her. He drops his cigarette on the ground, then stands up to crush it into the concrete. “Can I join you?”

“It’s a free country,” Clarke shrugs. Bellamy drops his towel, and once again Clarke is left open-mouthed. He’s naked. Her cunt throbs and she squeezes her legs together tightly. His cock hangs between his legs, swaying as he saunters over to the edge of the pool with a cocky confidence that is well deserved. Clarke stares at his cock, face hot, unable to tears her eyes away from the massive thing. Okay, she’s not that into guys, or cocks, but this—fucking magnificent. She feels like she could come just from the thought of having it inside her. Goddamn, she wants him to fuck her hard, like he does with all those other girls.

He dives into the pool with almost flawless technique, surfacing two feet away from her, and flicking his wet hair out of his eyes.

“You’re supposed to wear swimsuit in the pool,” Clarke says dumbly.

Bellamy raises an eyebrow, amused. “We’re also not supposed to be in here after nine pm,” he points out. “Besides, you’re not wearing one either,” he says, stepping towards her.

“Yes, I am,” Clarke frowns. She glances down. Definitely still wearing it, although her nipples are hard and pointed, poking obviously through the thin material of her bikini. She crosses her arms over her chest, which only serves to push her boobs up, as if she needs to draw more attention to them.

Bellamy’s eyes flash with mischief. “I’d hardly call that a swimsuit, Clarke,” he murmurs. Oh god, he knows her name. And he might be flirting with her. And his eyes are roaming all over her body, but mostly on her tits.

“How do you know my name?” she asks. Maybe she pushes her tits up a little more. He seems to like them.

“I asked Diyoza.” Diyoza, the woman who lives across the hall.

“You asked Diyoza about me?”

Bellamy shrugs. “Seemed weird not to know my neighbour’s name. And you’re always avoiding me.”

“I’m not avoiding you,” Clarke huffs. “I just have better things to do than stand around in the hallway talking to random neighbours.”

“Hence why I asked Diyoza.”

“I suppose you fucked her too.”

Bellamy laughs. It hits her right in the gut. She wants to pull his stupid soft-looking lips onto hers. “No,” he says. “I don’t think she’s interested.”

“But you’d fuck her if she was?” Clarke asks. Is she still talking about Diyoza, or is she thinking about herself now?

Bellamy shrugs. “Maybe I would. What’s it to you?”

“Nothing,” Clarke says quickly. “Fuck whoever you want. Just keep it down, so I don’t have to hear it.”

Bellamy moves even closer, and Clarke should probably back away, but she doesn’t. He’s only an inch away from her now, and she has to tilt her head right back to look him in the face. She can feel the heat from his body, despite the cool water. Her heartbeat drums in her ears. Can he tell how much she wants him to touch her?

“Why?” he whispers. “Because it turns you on?”

“No, I—” she swallows. “It’s annoying. Those girls are all so fake with their ridiculous moaning. And I don’t want to hear you getting off to spanking grown women, and hearing them call you daddy. It’s depraved.”

Bellamy doesn’t look offended in the slightest. In fact, he’s smirking at her. God, oh god. She can’t look at him. She feels hot all over, and she aches to be touched.

“That’s not what gets me off,” Bellamy says.

“Oh yeah? What then?” she blurts.

“I get off on pleasing a woman. If she gets off on calling me daddy and having me spank her, then that’s what I’m into. And there’s definitely nothing fake about it. I could show you if you like.”

Clarke snorts, if only to cover the fact that she’s turned on. “Please.” She means it to sound scornful, but it comes out like a whimper, like she’s begging him to show her. Bellamy’s eyes flash.

“What was that?” he asks.

Clarke swallows. “Please,” she whispers, and maybe she hates herself a little bit for how pathetic she sounds, but god, she wants him so much. Wants to be another fucking notch on his bedpost, wants him to claim her with his cock and ruin her for all other men.

“Please what?” He closes the gap between their bodies, his hand resting on her waist. Her hard nipples brush against his wet chest. There’s a heavy thudding between her legs.

“I don’t know,” Clarke says faintly. He leans down, and his lips brush against her ear, making her shiver.

“Tell me what you like,” he murmurs. “You want me to spank you? You want to call me daddy? You want me to undress you?”

Clarke stifles a moan. “Yes,” she says. “I want to be naked for you.”

“Of course you do,” Bellamy whispers. He reaches for the tie holding her bikini top together and pulls at it until the material falls from her chest, exposing her nipples to him. He undoes the tie around her back and pulls the bikini top from her body completely. “Such pretty tits, Clarke,” Bellamy tells her, brushing a thumb over one of her nipples. Her face burns. “I’ve been wondering when you’d let me see them.”

Clarke looks up at him, surprised. “You’ve thought about this?”

“Of course I have,” Bellamy says. “That okay?”

Clarke nods. “Uh huh.” Bellamy leans in slowly, then pauses, letting his lips linger millimetres from hers for a moment, letting the anticipation build, before he kisses her for the first time, taking his time, exploring her mouth with his tongue. He tastes like cigarette smoke, which should turn her off, but somehow with him she finds it sexy. Her head spins. Fuck, he knows what he’s doing. He pulls away, and Clarke lets out a small sound of protest. He chuckles.

“What do you want me to call you? Clarke? Baby? Princess?”

Clarke shakes her head. “Whatever you want.”  

“Okay, princess,” he says. His lips drop to her neck and his fingers stroke her stomach. “Now how about those bikini bottoms, huh? You gonna take them off for me? Or you want me to take them off for you?”

Clarke nods, eager to please him. She’s probably going to hate herself later for acting like such a desperate slut, letting him get her half naked before he’s even kissed her, letting him call her whatever he wants, letting him take all her clothes off in public. But right now, all that matters is that he’s going to make her come.

Bellamy drags her bikini bottoms down her thighs to her knees, and Clarke lifts each of her legs to step out of them. He lets them float away with her bikini top.

“There we go,” he says. “All naked for me.” Clarke flushes. Bellamy runs the back of his fingers down her stomach, until he reaches her slit. Clarke spreads her legs. Bellamy splays his big hand over her pussy, then cups her, covering her. Clarke wants him to put his fingers inside her. Thinks about how big they are, how good he could fill her up with those fingers. She squirms in his hand.

“I want to see your pussy so badly, baby. You want to show me?”

Clarke nods. Bellamy picks her up, hoisting her to his waist, then takes her to the side of the pool and lifts her out, perching her on the edge. She spreads her legs, putting herself on display for him.  Bellamy kisses the inside of her knee. His eyes are hooded and dark with lust. He strokes the inside of her thigh with his fingers, getting higher and higher.

“Tell me, Clarke,” Bellamy says. “When you’re lying in bed at night, and you can hear me fucking another woman, do you imagine that’s you I’m fucking? Do you finger yourself and pretend it’s my hand?”

“Yes,” Clarke says, breathlessly. His fingers hover above her slit. “Bellamy, please,” she groans.

“What do you want?”

“Finger me,” Clarke begs. “Please, finger me.”

“You want me to finger you out here in the open, where anyone could see?”

“Please.”

Bellamy keeps his eyes locked on hers as he presses his fingers to her slit. He finds her clit with his thumb, circling it gently, then pressing down, making her gasp loudly. He sinks two fingers into her, and curls them inside her. Clarke spreads her legs wider. Fuck, his fingers make her feel so full. She can only imagine what it’s going to be like to have his cock in her.

He fucks her slowly with his fingers, gradually building her up towards orgasm. She’s panting and moaning, and she’s beginning to think all those other women weren’t exaggerating after all.

Bellamy stops and pulls his fingers from her cunt, and she whines pathetically. She needs to come. Needs it as much as she needs to breathe.

“I want to taste you,” Bellamy growls. He leans in, and then he’s replacing his fingers with his tongue, and holy fuck, he knows how to use it. Clarke tangles her fingers in his wet hair, pressing his face against her cunt as his tongue flicks her clit. Her thighs tremble, and she’s pretty sure she’s almost fucking crying.

“Bellamy,” she moans. “Oh my god, it feels so good. Please make me come. Please.” Her babbling becomes even more incoherent after that, noises escaping from her mouth that she’s never heard before. He winds her tighter and tighter, until she finally snaps, crying out as she comes. He continues to lap at her pussy through her orgasm.

“Fuck,” Clarke moans. “Fuck, fuck. Fuck me.”

Bellamy pulls his head away, a self-satisfied grin on his face. “Not tonight, princess.”

Clarke’s stomach drops. “What?”

“I’m beat,” he says. “Time for me to go to bed.” He heads for the steps, and Clarke watches him ascend, disappointment pooling in her stomach, even though he’s just given her an amazing orgasm. But he’s not going to fuck her. She doesn’t get to feel his cock inside her.

He heads for his towel, and Clarke can see that he’s hard now, so it’s not that he can’t fuck her, or that he wasn’t turned on by eating her out. Half of her wants to beg him. God, she’d even settle for him letting her suck his cock. In fact, she actually wants his cock in her mouth, and she usually hates giving head to guys. But the thought of choking on his huge cock gets her pussy throbbing all over again.

“Bellamy,” she says. She’s not going to beg. She’s already degraded herself enough tonight. “Don’t you want to fuck me?”

Bellamy wraps his towel around his waist again. “Like I said, I’m tired. But if you want more some other time, you know where to find me.” He winks at her before he leaves. Clarke groans, and somehow, she just wants him even more than she did before.

So, I joined my schools basketball team in the beginning of the year, I kinda suck, but that's ok cause I just started. Anyways, could you do something on Alex being captain of her high school/college basketball team and Maggie being so turned on by watching her play. I mean, I'm not saying the captain on my team is hot - and unfortunately straight - I don't know where you got that idea.

Sanvers Basketball College AU (ft. gay disaster Maggie Sawyer)

Basketball’s never been her thing.

She’ll scowl at anyone who dares to suggest it’s a height thing, and Winn still has the bruise on his arm from their horseplay a few weeks ago when he’d made the mistake of saying something along those lines.

But when Kara turns on her puppy eyes and tells Maggie that it’s her big sister’s first game of the season, Maggie can’t say no to the freshman girl who so warmly welcomed Maggie into a loving school community for the first time in her life.

So she tags along, exchanging a knowing grin with Lucy as Kara nervously takes Lena’s hand on one side and James’s on the other, as and Winn babbles along at top speed to Clark, his face getting redder the closer they get to the school’s gym, the closer they get to the crowd slowly forming for this season’s opening game.

She tags along, and she expects to have fun; but because of the company, not because of the game.

That is, until she lays eyes on the captain of the school team, who scans the stands with keen eyes until she find’s Maggie’s and waves and grins and winks.

Maggie blinks and forgets what breathing is. What…

Until she realizes that Kara has jumped out of her seat and is furiously waving back to the team captain.

The team captain with a black sweatband holding back her short, perfect, is-it-isn’t-it red hair, sweat already running in gorgeous rivulets down gorgeous, strong arms, long legs, and…

And Danvers written on the back of her jersey.

Of course she wasn’t winking and waving and grinning at Maggie like that. She was winking and waving and grinning at Kara.

“Kara, that’s… that’s your sister?” Maggie manages to choke out, and Lucy stops laughing with Lena and James to stare intently at her roommate.

“Yeah, team captain, isn’t it great?” Kara beams, too excited to notice Maggie’s shell-shocked eyes and slack jaw.

“Earth to Sawyer. Come in, Sawyer,” Winn leans over Lucy to murmur, and Maggie swats away his teasing hand gently without taking her eyes off of the team captain.

Alex, her name is. Alex.

For the first time, Kara’s amazing big sister – always busy in the lab or at practice – takes a shape in Maggie’s mind as something other than… well, Kara’s big sister.

Maggie gulps.

“We can get Kara to introduce you, you know,” Lucy follows Winn’s lead, but Maggie barely hears her.

Barely hears her, because Alex is calling warmup drills and nodding efficiently when her teammates do well, chiding encouragingly when they don’t. Pumping them up for the game, shooting the ball – perfect, every time, and Maggie has never thought much about the sound a basketball makes when it swishes through the basket, but now the soft, sweet, satisfying sound turns her on beyond comprehension – like the leader she is, at once like she knows all eyes in the gym are on her and like no one’s eyes are on her at all.

Maggie doesn’t remember much of the game, except that she doesn’t speak. She doesn’t cheer. She only claps when Lucy nudges her.

She just stares. She just accepts the soda that James makes her drink, because he knows her mouth must be dry as the desert.

She does dimly register, though, that Alex is more than the team captain, more than her school’s star power forward.

Alex is gritty – she gets slammed to the ground more than once by the opposing team’s massive center, once hitting her chin on the court and coming up bloody. She wipes it away like she barely notices, and when her coach forces her out of the game for a moment, she barely seems to notice her mouth being tended to, her eyes are so fixed on the game, on supporting her teammates.

Alex is clever and creative and focused – she sees things better, faster, than even the best players on the court; sees holes in the defense that no one else can, sees opportunities for her teammates to score that no one believed possible, sees how to rile the crowd with a simple twitch of her lips and toss of her head.

Alex is both selfless and cocky – she might score more than anyone else in the game, but she also has more assists; she sets more picks – or at least, that’s what Maggie thinks Lucy calls them – than anyone else on the team, but she also has a heady way of grinning when she scores that goes straight to Maggie’s core.

Alex comes away with a triple double and Maggie comes away with heat pooling between her legs and trembling hands.

Trembling, because Kara, flushed with her big sister’s victory, is leading her friends down to the locker room exit to wait for Alex after the game, so she can be the first non-teammate to hug her and to inspect her injuries, because Rao knows Alex won’t inspect her own.

Trembling, because when Alex’s eyes – still glistening with victory – meet hers for the first time over Kara’s shoulder, fireworks go off in Maggie’s stomach and everyone else in the multiverse ceases to exist.

Trembling, because Alex moves to shake her hand, and her hands are at once calloused and soft, strong and gentle.

“I’m Alex,” she tells her unnecessarily, and Maggie tries to remember language.

“I know,” is the only thing she comes up with, and she’s never been more grateful for Kara’s cousin Clark.

“Alex, this is Kara’s good friend Maggie. You know, the one who helped her out of that tricky situation at that house party a couple weeks ago.”

Maggie hadn’t known that the intensity in Alex’s eyes could increase, but it does at Clark’s words. Alex’s eyes rake up and down Maggie’s body, quickly, thoroughly.

Their hands are still clasped.

Their friends are silent, watching. Waiting. Hoping.

Alex licks her lips.

Maggie wants to kiss them.

“Well, Maggie, seems like I owe you a thank you. For taking care of my sister.”

“Oh, I um, what are friends for, right, I –”

“Let me take you out tonight. The team’s going out to celebrate the opener, and I uh… I’d love to bring a date. I mean. If you wanted.”

Alex doesn’t hear Maggie’s response over Lucy and Kara’s mutual shrieks, but she doesn’t have to – the answer is shining in Maggie’s eyes.

A Life So Changed: Chapter Forty-One

Author: Lopithecus Pairing: Clark Kent/Bruce Wayne Rating: Explicit Word Count: 3937 Alternate: AO3, fanfiction.net Author's Note: N/A

Chapter Forty-One:

Bruce wakes up with a start. The room is completely dark and when Bruce looks over at the clock, it reads three o’clock in the morning. He had fallen asleep on top of the covers and despite the heat of the room, he is shivering slightly. At least his headache has thankfully dulled down to a minor ache. With a small groan, Bruce sits up and gets out of bed, walking over to his walk-in closet and pulling out a sweatshirt. He slips it on and then makes his way out of his room.

The Manor is quiet and dark, something he relishes for the moment. It means everyone is either asleep or in their rooms. Martha and Jonathan would be asleep by now. Barbara might be awake but with Kara here as well, the two mates might already have fallen asleep together. Tim and Kon are most likely awake still, even if Kon doesn’t want to be. Tim will keep the alpha up just on the fact that Tim won’t be able to sleep. Jason is a tossup whether he is asleep or not. The alpha’s sleeping patterns, from what Bruce has observed, is quite unpredictable. So are Damian’s. Bruce wonders if the kid is up and taking his anger out by drawing a picture in his sketchbook or slashing up another pillow.

With a long sigh, Bruce continues down the hallway only to stop by Dick’s bedroom door. There’s light shining out from the bottom of it. Trying to not be too hasty about it, he turns towards the door and knocks gently. There’s a muffled hum from inside, indicating that Bruce can enter. He slowly opens the door, walking in. Dick is by his bed, unpacking dirty clothes onto his bed in a disorganized fashion. He doesn’t look up when Bruce closes the door quietly behind himself.

Bruce approaches the bed. “When did you get back?”

Dick lifts a hand and rubs at a bruise on his chin. “An hour ago, maybe? I heard from Jason that the in-laws are here.”

“They’re not in-laws,” Bruce corrects, scrutinizing the black and blue on Dick’s face.

Dick shrugs, looking up at him as he throws a pair of Superman boxers on top of the pile. “They will be in the future so you might as well call them that now.” The young beta goes back to pulling clothes out. Bruce watches the pile grow. The kid really was planning on staying gone forever. He took all his clothes with him and now the pile just keeps getting bigger the more clothes Dick pulls out.

“Why are you putting all your clothes in one pile?” Bruce walks up to the pile and starts digging clothes out of it, feeling compelled to do so. “Not all of them are dirty. You were gone for what? A week?”

Dick is watching him and when Bruce looks up at the beta, Dick looks confused. “What are you doing?”

Bruce looks down at his hands, holding a pair of socks with small little Nightwing symbols on them. “Taking out the clean clothes.”

Dick snatches up the socks, throwing them to the floor. “You don’t know what I wore. Stop that.”

Bruce turns away from the clothes, ignoring his need to sort them. “Sorry.”

“Jeez, you’re turning more and more into a parent as the days go by.”

Bruce glares at his first son. “Funny.” Dick stifles a laugh. Bruce eyes Dick as the beta continues to pull clothes out. “What’s with the bruise?”

“Oh this?” Dick points to his chin. “I finally told Kori what has been going on.” Bruce nods, understanding. “As you can probably guess, it didn’t go very well.” He rubs at it again. “It didn’t look this bad earlier but Jason punched me once he saw me.” Dick shrugs, closing the suitcase. There were still clothes in it. He chuckles. “I actually thought Jason was going to make me submit to him but nah, he didn’t. Just told me to fix things and that the Kents are here and being jerks to you.” The beta laughs again. “I’m actually more afraid to see Damian than I was Jason though. Damian can be scary for a little squirt.”

Bruce smirks. “He’ll probably end up being an alpha.”

“Now that’s scary,” Dick jokes, smiling at Bruce. Bruce huffs a small laugh and sits down on the edge of the bed. “Do you think you’ll be able to work things out with Kori?”

Dick’s smile disappears and he sits down next to Bruce. “Probably not.” He shrugs again. “I’m hoping.”

“And Wally?”

“We’ve… talked more.”

“And?”

Dick sighs, looking down at his lap. “He’s getting the abortion.” Bruce nods, looking down at his own lap. His stomach blocks some of his view and he can’t help but place a protective hand on it. Dick notices. “It’s not that we don’t…” Another sigh. “I don’t think love is necessarily the right word but…” Dick rubs a hand down his face. “I don’t know how to describe it.”

Again, Bruce nods. “I get it.” Dick’s lips thin. “Love… is complicated Dick. I don’t doubt that either of you love the baby or whatever feeling it is, I don’t know how to describe it either, but I do understand that feeling and it’s hard, but sometimes one has to make the hard decisions.”

Dick nods slowly. His hands are tightly balled into fists on his knees. “We’re both not ready Bruce. We’re not ready to be parents.” Dick finally looks at him and there are tears in his eyes. “You had practice; with me, Jason, Tim, and Damian. Wally and I… we’re twenty-one Bruce. We’re too young.”

“Dick, I want you and Wally to know that if you two do change your mind, I will help with the baby. With any resources that Wally might need or any help. I’m sure Alfred would be willing to babysit. Or even if Wally needs help buying things for the baby. Anything.”

Dick’s small smile is back and Bruce is glad about that. “I have my own money, you know, Bruce.”

Bruce chuckles. “I know. I just want to be a good grandfather.”

Dick huffs but his smile soon wanes again. “I think he’s pretty set on not having it.”

“What about adoption?”

“And let a baby with super powers on the loose?” Dick shakes his head. “I don’t think so.”

Bruce frowns. “Maybe Iris will adopt the baby. Or, you know, I could.”

Dick laughs then, loud and shoulders shaking. “You? You have to focus on your own baby,” Dick says between breaths. When the beta finally settles, he wipes at his eyes. “And I don’t think Iris will want to adopt the baby with Barry being… gone and all.”

“Then maybe someone else in the League will or the Titans.”

“Bruce,” Dick places a hand on Bruce’s shoulder. “He’s getting the abortion.”

Bruce looks away from his son, back down to his own baby bump. “He might regret it.”

“Would you have?” Dick asks.

“At the time?” He shakes his head. “No, I don’t think so. Now? Yes.”

Dick frowns and looks off into the room. “We talked about it a lot, weighing the options.”

“Dick-”

“When you were making the decision, how did you feel?” Dick interrupts.

Bruce pauses, thinking back many months ago. “I… was scared. Not certain what to do. When I decided to get an abortion, I wondered if it was the right decision. Obviously in the end I couldn’t do it. Dick, I was... “He doesn’t know how to explain it to the young beta. The emotional pain Bruce had felt. The torment and indecision that was going on inside of him. The way he felt in the hospital room, waiting for the doctor to start the procedure. The sheer panic he felt when the doctor had started. “Being on that table to get it done… it was…” He clears his throat and removes his hand from his stomach. He somehow feels like he is betraying his baby by just talking about what he almost went through with. “It was one of the most painful things I have ever had to go through.” He looks over at Dick but Dick isn’t looking at him. “Emotionally. Wally… he’s going to grieve Dick, as are you. It’s not an easy thing to do.” He pauses again, swallowing. “Dick, if Wally gets there and then changes his mind, don’t be mad at him. Getting rid of something that is a part of you… it… it’s almost unbearable.”

Dick is nodding, still not making eye contact. Bruce can see the glistening of tears on his cheeks but Bruce says nothing. Dick sniffles and wipes the wetness away. “Yeah… yeah I won’t.” The beta takes a deep breath. “You know, I was thinking the other day how similar our situations are. How much of a fucking hypocrite I am. While our situations are similar, Bruce, they’re also not. You and Clark had a one night stand. Wally and I, it had been going on for months. Clark slept with you because of your heat. Wally came to me to help with his heat and I stupidly agreed because he’s my best friend. I never even gave Kori a thought. I never even gave the fact that I’m not an alpha a thought. I thought I would just be helping a friend a few times until he could deal with them on his own again. But Wally was having a hard time, I think he was feeling lonely, and so it kept going. You and Clark, it stopped after that one heat.” Dick sniffles again and Bruce reaches over to the nightstand where a box of tissues is. He hands them over to the beta but Dick ignores it. “Clark had told Lois about the cheating and the baby as soon as he found out. I kept if from Kori for weeks.”

“Dick-”

“Don’t make excuses for me, please. I know what Wally and I did was wrong. I know keeping it from Kori was wrong. I know.” Dick finally takes a tissue but all he does is tear it up into tiny pieces, each one falling to the floor. “The thing that is the same the most, besides the baby, is both Clark and I lost the love of our lives. Except Clark loves you and you love him. I love Kori and not Wally and Wally doesn’t love me.” Dick gets up from the bed abruptly to break the awkward conversation. “I have to finish unpacking.”

Watching Dick unpacking again, Bruce feels the sting in his chest from Dick mentioning Clark losing the love of his life. Self-doubt makes its way to the surface. Is he not the love of Clark’s life? Is it still Lois? Clark had said he will always love Lois. Does that mean he loves Lois more than him? Would he rather be with Lois than him? Are Clark’s parents correct, and Clark is just picking him for second best because of the baby?

“Bruce?” Bruce’s head snaps up and he looks at Dick. Dick’s eyebrows are scrunched in concern. “Are you okay?”

Bruce shakes his head to clear it, closing his eyes and forcing a chuckle. “Yeah, I’m fine. Just a bit tired.”

“Did you want to go back to bed?”

“No, I’m fine,” Bruce lies.

Dick watches him for a few seconds before turning away and scrubbing at his forehead with a hand. “Bruce, this whole thing with Wally was only meant to be a short term thing. It was meant to help him because he… he… he said he was having problems with his heat. That’s what he told me.” Dick’s shoulders droop and Bruce tries to concentrate on what the beta is saying instead of his own worries about Clark. “Or he was lonely during them… I don’t know. It was some kind of problem. But nothing else was supposed to happen Bruce.” The beta throws his hands out. “All of this, it… God, this wasn’t supposed to happen.”

Bruce sighs and stands. “Have you thought that maybe there’s more to this than you think? At least for Wally?”

Dick grabs his suitcase again and opens it. He rummages through it but doesn’t pull anything out. “Meaning?”

“I just mean, Clark and I, though our situations are vastly different as you said, they’re still the same in ways. I love Clark, have for a long time, you know this.”

“What does that have to do with Wally?” Dick asks, finally pulling out another pair of boxers, this time with a Batman symbol. Dick’s face turns bright red and the beta quickly shoves them under the pile of clothes. Dick clears his throat and continues. “He doesn’t love me like you love Clark.”

“Are you sure?” Bruce asks.

Dick looks at him with one eyebrow raised. “Of course, I’m sure.”

“Dick, just think about it. He asked you to help him with his heats even though you’re not an alpha. Why?” Dick shrugs. “I loved Clark for a long time and when my heat started, I wanted him.”

“Because he was in the room with you,” Dick reasons.

“Yes, but at the time, heat or no heat, I was glad it was him. If Wally-”

“No Bruce,” Dick retorts. “It’s not the same. The reason why he didn’t go to some random alpha is because I’m his best friend.”

Bruce silently sighs and heads to the door, figuring it’s probably best to let Dick stew with what Bruce is telling him. “And Clark has always been my best friend too. That wasn’t the reason why I wanted him Dick. Friendship and love are very closely connected.” He leaves, not missing the thinning of Dick’s lips in contemplation.

He heads back to his room slowly. Bruce is glad he just had a civil conversation with Dick. He can already feel the bond between them strengthening again. It will still take a long time before it is fully restored, but they are on the right path and it makes Bruce content to know that. With a small, satisfied smile playing at his lips, he opens his door to his bedroom and steps in only to stop short. Sitting there on his bed is Jason. He quietly shuts the door behind himself.

Jason stands. “Hey, I was wondering if we could talk.”

Bruce glances at the time. “At four in the morning?”

Jason shrugs. “I was awake.”

Bruce huffs and heads to the bathroom. His headache is starting to get bad again and he would like to try and stave it off before it continues to worsen. “I’m assuming this is about Roy?” He pulls out the Tylenol and swallows two with some tap water.

Jason watches him, arms crossed and leaning on the doorframe. “You said I could.”

“I did.” Bruce exits the bathroom and returns to his bedroom, sitting down on his bed.

Jason follows. “Can I?” Bruce gestures for Jason to continue. Jason sighs and shoves his hands into his pockets. “I don’t even know where to begin.”

“Why don’t you tell me what made you want to talk to me now,” Bruce prompts.

Jason looks to the floor and shuffles his feet. He shrugs. “I was just thinking, you know? With the Kents being here and then seeing… do you know Dick is back?” Bruce nods. “Yeah, and then seeing him again and knowing about his whole situation with Wally. It just got me thinking.”

“About?”

Another shrug and sigh. Jason takes his hands out of his pockets and sits next to Bruce. “Roy. The future. Family. All that happy stuff to think about.” Bruce says nothing to this, knowing how Jason feels about family. “Roy, he… he’s been contacting me on and off. Never when I initiate it. I don’t know if he’s avoiding me because he’s scared about the fact that I like him and he likes me back or if he is scared about the fact that I like him and he doesn’t like me back.”

“You mean love.” Jason eyes him. “It’s okay to say it Jason.”

Jason huffs a laugh. “I don’t think I’m quite there yet Old Man.” Jason shifts his weight and clasps his hands together, leaning forward and resting his elbows on his thighs. “You want to know when I found out I was gay?”

Bruce looks at his son, the alpha avoiding eye contact. He follows Jason’s gaze to a spot on the carpet. “Okay.”

Jason chuckles, most likely from the memory. “You remember when you first introduced me to Superman?”

Bruce nods. “I don’t even think you were presenting as an alpha yet.”

“I wasn’t,” Jason says. His hands flex a little. “I was a late bloomer into puberty. Fourteen-year-old boy, not even having presented as anything yet, meeting the greatest superhero in the world. You remember what happened the next day?”

“I remember you were almost as bad as Dick was when it came to your little crush on him.” Jason laughs, deep and guttural. “I bought you so much Superman merchandise the day after you met him.” Bruce eyes Jason. “I thought it was harmless because you weren’t presenting as anything yet.”

“It was at the time,” Jason says.

“Then you couldn’t have known yet.”

“Yeah,” the alpha says softly, watching his own hands now. “Except when I finally presented as an alpha, the crush didn’t go away. I never told you, but there were a lot of nights that I would jack off to the thought of him.”

Bruce eyes his bare feet. “And I still didn’t need to know that.”

Jason laughs again and it makes Bruce smile. It’s not a sound he hears too often. “My point is, is that’s when I found out I was gay. I mean, fuck Bruce, Superman’s probably every omega’s, beta’s, and gay or bisexual alpha’s masturbatory fantasy. It really shouldn’t surprise you that it was mine too.”

“No, I suppose not. Pretty positive he was Dick’s as well.”

“Dickie bird?” Jason chuckles. “There’s no question about it.” They both laugh but it soon dies down. “Then I died. Then I came back. For a while there I wasn’t even interested in screwing around with anyone. No alpha, no omega, not even a fucking beta. I was just angry and hurt. Then Roy came along and it was like he sparked something in me. When I started living with him and he would bring an omega around, it wouldn’t be the omega’s scent that would turn me on when the two were having sex in the other room. It would be Roy’s.” Jason looks at Bruce. “I kept it from him for years, like you did with Clark, but then I found you, hurt and pregnant, and I just… I don’t know Bruce. For some reason that one event, bringing you back to our hideout and taking care of you, it made it unbearable keeping it from him. Because there have been many times in which I’ve had to stitch him up or he has had to stitch me up, and doing the same to you made me think about that and I… I couldn’t keep it a secret anymore. So, I told him. And I ran away.” Jason pauses and Bruce stays silent. He’s afraid if he tries to say something, Jason will lose his confidence in confiding in him. “I ran away and came to live with you. I ran away from my problems.”

“It seems to run in the family,” Bruce mumbles.

Jason huffs at Bruce’s comment. “I’ve been trying to talk to him but whenever I initiate a conversation he doesn’t get back to me. He’s never alone with me anymore either. It’s like he’s afraid I’m going to jump his bones at any moment.” Jason tsks. “Like that’ll ever happen.” The alpha’s hands turn into fists, knuckles white. “Now he only initiates the conversations and it’s safe stuff, like mission talk or weapons or something along the lines of our nightly jobs.” A growl emanates from deep within Jason’s throat and Bruce places a protective hand on his stomach. “He’s a fucking asshole.” Jason notices Bruce’s hand and bows his head slightly in a small submission. “Sorry.”

Bruce forces himself to take his hand off his baby bump. “It’s okay.” He looks at his son who has now stopped submitting. “Listen Jason, maybe Roy isn’t meaning to be an asshole. Maybe he’s just as confused as you are. Has he ever been with any other alpha?”

“Not that I know of,” Jason replies, sitting back on his hands. The alpha tilts his head back and looks at the ceiling.

“So, if he is in fact interested in you, then he’s probably scared because it’s all new to him. Maybe he has never admitted to himself that he is also attracted to alphas.”

Jason shrugs. “Maybe. I just wish he would talk to me. Even if we don’t talk about how I or he feels. I just want to be his friend again.”

Bruce frowns. “Try giving him a little more time, Jason. Give him space but also keep reaching out to him. Look how long it took Clark to finally realize he loves me.”

“I don’t want to wait years.” Jason tries to hide the desperation in his voice but there is no hiding it from Bruce.

Bruce frowns more. “Then you stop waiting and move on. Only wait for as long as you can Jason. Don’t push yourself any more than that.” Bruce looks to his lap. “You’ll only end up hurt and miserable.”

He sees Jason nod from the corners of his eyes. “How did you wait so long?”

Bruce chuckles. “I buried myself in work. Plus, I’m a patient man. But even I got tired of waiting after a while.”

“Oliver?”

Bruce nods once. “Oliver.”

“And in the end, it still paid off for you.” Jason brings a hand up and wipes at his face. The alpha looks tired. “What if it never does for me?”

Bruce clasps Jason’s shoulder. “It will. Even if it’s not with Roy.”

Jason looks at him and there is an emotion that Bruce can’t read in his eyes. Jason pushes forward from his hands and gets up off the bed. He pats Bruce’s shoulder twice and then makes his way to the bedroom door. “Thanks, Old Man.” The alpha smiles at him, small and timid. “It helped… surprisingly.”

“If you ever need to talk more Jason, my door is open.”

Jason sucks on his cheek and nods briefly. He opens the door. “Goodnight.” Then he’s gone, door shutting behind him with a low click.

Bruce smiles small after his son, once more happy by the outcome of another conversation. Tonight has been good for those apparently. Now only if he could go and see Clark and talk to him as well. To make up for their small fight. Bruce sighs. He knows that’s not going to happen tonight. Clark will be at the fortress and sleeping. He won’t call the Kryptonian over this early in the morning.

Bruce looks over at the clock. It’s already four thirty. With a yawn, he lies back down onto his bed, burying his head into the pillow. His headache is still getting worse but with some more sleep, it will hopefully go away.

However, Bruce doesn’t get any, his mind too preoccupied with thoughts of Clark and the love of the alpha’s life.

A/N: Thanks for reading!!

Order from Your Commander (part 4)

Request: FreeKru and SkaiKru meet with Lexa to come up with a plan to find out who is attacking SkaiKru. Bellamy and Y/n share a coupla cute moments. (part 3)

Word Count: 3,110

(A/N: Hey guys I’m soooo sorry for how long this took me to post but I promise I will post more parts soon! Thank you for being patient with me!!! I hope you enjoy!) 

Bellamy woke up that next day to loud laughter outside the window beside his temporary bed. He rubbed the sleep from his eyes and yawned. He glanced around the room, at Murphy and Miller’s sleeping bodies, at the fire barely burning in the corner, and finally at the window that was letting in bright rays of sunshine. He threw the covers off him and quietly walked to the window. The sun was shining brightly overhead without a cloud in sight. The trees swayed slightly in the light breeze, and in spite of the cold, people were outside playing. He noticed Y/n playing a game of tag with some younger kids and he realized that the laughter had come from her. She smiled brightly and let out another laugh as one of the kids tagged her.

Bellamy wanted to tear his eyes away, but couldn’t seem to. He was mesmerized by the way Y/n’s hair flowed in the wind and the way her eyes glistened as she played with these kids. He admired the way she kept such an optimistic point of view despite everything she had experienced in her life, and found joy in something as simple as a game of tag. He swallowed the lump in his throat and tried to ignore the fluttering feeling in his stomach. He wanted to act like he didn’t think anything of Y/n, other than as the commander she is, and he hated the way he knew he was failing at that. He allowed himself to admit that he thought she was gorgeous the moment he saw her from the bushes and has been thoroughly intimated and slightly turned on by her since she punched Murphy in the face. He’s only known her for two days and already felt connected to her in ways he’s never felt with most of the 100.

He finally peeled his eyes away from the window and went to put his clothes on. He tiptoed over Murphy’s body and to the door. He opened it quickly and almost ran into Bjorn, who looked as if he were keeping guard. Bjorn turned around and smiled. “Good morning sleepy head!” He beamed at the still groggy Bellamy.

“Yeah you too. What time is it?” Bellamy asked.

“About lunch time. Commander didn’t want to wake you up as you and your people have had a long couple of days.” He continued to smile, but did not uncross his arms or let down his protective stance.

Bellamy eyed him before asking, “Where are the others?”

“They’re in the dining hall. I can take you there if you’d like.”

“I’m not that hungry. Really just need some fresh air.” Bellamy turned around and headed toward the exit without a glance back to Bjorn. He wanted to like Bjorn but there was something about him that was not sitting with him right. Bellamy passed the mural of the Ark and thought back to what Y/n said about the 100 being a part of their history. He wasn’t entirely sure what she meant by that in the moment, but didn’t really want to ask what she meant. He shook his head slightly and continued to the exit.

He stepped into the courtyard and surveyed the area around him. He didn’t pay much attention when he arrived, for he was still in shock at the fact that he had just kidnapped a commander of a group that literally fought a war against the scariest clan in the 13 clans. The land was huge with several huts and tents set up around the camp. To his right were several residential huts and a large building that seemed to have been there for years. He could smell food coming from that direction too. To his left were a vast open field, more tents, and a lake. The building he had just exited from was large with multiple floors. He could hear voices and movement coming through some of the blown out windows. In some ways, it reminded him of Polis, just smaller and less terrifying. The people looked happier too. Everyone that passed by him had a smile on their face, something very foreign to him.

“Bellamy! You’re awake!” Y/n called from across the yard. She excused herself from the game of tag, which was followed by protests from the kids. “Hey, it’s almost time for you all to go back to class anyways! You can try to get me again tomorrow!”

Bellamy met her halfway and couldn’t help but smile at her sweaty forehead and heavy breathing. He didn’t know what to say so he simply said, “Class?”

Y/n nodded, “Yeah, we try to teach the kids useful skills, like how to hunt, make clothes, medicine, basic self defense, and so on.”

“You’re teaching kids how to do medicine?” He cocked an eyebrow and laughed.

“Somebody’s gotta do it when I’m not here,” She noticed his confused stare, “I was a ‘doctor’ back in the Ice Nation. And I use doctor loosely. It’s nothing like what you all have.”

“That’s really impressive. Commander and doctor?”

She blushed and chuckled slightly. “It sounds impressive but it’s really not. Everyone here is pretty healthy. We keep, well, try to keep confrontation to a minimum, provide healthy food, and keep this place clean.”  

“How do you do all of that? That seems a little unrealistic.” Bellamy was confused and curious. How was everyone so happy and healthy, especially just a few years after fighting a war?

Y/n began to walk and turned to Bellamy for him to follow. “Did you ever learn about a country called Switzerland?”

“Heard of it, don’t know anything about it though.” Bellamy replied.

“It was this country that remained neutral in every war that happened, up until the one that fucked everything up. In all the world wars, they managed to keep their neutrality and didn’t take sides. They continued to trade with countries from every side. And they were one of the happiest countries in the world, partially because of that neutrality. After the war, we kinda applied that concept; we stay out of whatever we can. Plus, when the people feel safe, they’re more willing to help out.”

“It helps that you’re likeable.” He added.

She stuttered around her words before forming a sentence, “Yeah, I guess that does help.”

He half-smiled, “Why are you helping us then, if you’re trying to remain neutral?”

“In all honesty, we do need allies. We’ve tried to keep this act up for so long, and we just can’t anymore. Especially with Nia in power of Azgeda. She’s a powder keg about to explode, and I can’t have my people in the line of fire if I can help it.” She paused again and took a deep breath in. “It’s also my way of saying thank you.”

“Thank you for what?”

“Bellamy!” Octavia shouted from behind them, holding a chicken leg, “You have to come try this food! It’s amazing!” She smiled like a child in a game. Bellamy exchanged a look with Y/n before turning back to Octavia.

“I’ll be there in a second O!”

Y/n smiled sheepishly, “We can talk more later. Go wake the rest of your friends up and go eat. As much as I want to just enjoy this day, we do need to discuss how we’re going to talk to Heda.” Bellamy was reluctant, as he wanted to hear the rest of what Y/n had to say, but he complied nonetheless. After waking Murphy and Miller up, he went to the dining hall and got a plate of food that looked absolutely to die for. He took one bite out of the meat and instantly understood why everyone here was so happy. If he ate like this every day, he might be happier too.

“How are we going to do this?” Octavia asked.

“Bjorn and I will just go in and ask. Simple.” Y/n answered, staring uninterestedly down at the knife she was sharpening. Octavia traded a glance with Bellamy and swallowed a lump in her throat.

“No offense, but this isn’t some petty trade deal, we need you to take this more seriously.” Octavia started before sucking in a shaky breath. Y/n stood up slowly before tucking the knife into the sheath on her right hip.

Y/n raised an eyebrow and gave a slight smile, “Octavia, if we over think this, people die. Bjorn, Bellamy, and I will go in. I will do the talking,” She paused at the expression Octavia still had on her face, “It’s not as complicated as you’re making it. If someone tries to retaliate, I can handle my own. If we come in with a large number of people, Heda’s going to expect something. She’s not going to be too happy about us stepping into this mess between you two anyways, so if we can minimize her anger…” She trailed off as she was walking away, but SkaiKru was not following.

“I don’t feel good about this anymore.” Miller said, filling the silence.

“We have to trust her…she seems to know what she’s doing.” Bellamy headed after Y/n without a glance back. He just assumed and hoped the rest were following.

The walk to TriKru territory was uneventful- no one spoke except for Y/n and Bjorn as they cracked lame jokes. SkaiKru were too nervous about what might happen to say anything. Octavia and Murphy weren’t entirely convinced Y/n and Bjorn knew what they were doing. Miller and Harper trusted Bellamy’s judgment, and wanted to believe in Y/n.

When they approached the gate, Y/n ordered everyone except Bjorn and Bellamy to stay behind in the trees. Bellamy, since Clarke wasn’t there, was to act as the Skaikru spokesperson. The guards at the gate blocked the entrance until Y/n identified who they were.

“Why are you here, Y/n come FreeKru?” One of the guards questioned in a husky voice.

“We need to speak to Lexa.” Y/n replied, crossing her arms and shifting to a bored stance for dramatic effect.

“About?”

“None of your busin-” She started but was cut off by a louder yell.

“Y/n, what brings you here?!” Lexa smiled as she opened the gate. Y/n returned the grin and allowed herself through the gates. Bjorn followed confidently, while Bellamy followed less eagerly. He couldn’t help but feel the eyes of the Grounders following his every move as if he had “SkaiKru” plastered on his forehead. His hand absentmindedly gripped the butt of his gun tighter.

Lexa and Y/n shared a brief hug before Y/n turned to face Bellamy. “We need to talk about the newcomers.” Lexa’s smile quickly disappeared when she realized who Bellamy was. She turned on her heel and lead the way to one of her tents. Once inside, Lexa pulled out a chair to sit in and offered the seat across from her to Y/n. Bjorn and Bellamy stood in front of the flaps of the tent to keep anyone who might try to come in, out. The tent was warm from the fire in the corner. Bellamy felt trapped and stifled in the hot room while being so close to someone who tried to kill him not too long ago. Y/n felt his apprehension and placed a comforting hand on his arm when she walked by. She took the seat across from Lexa and took her jacket off, showing off her bare shoulders (Bellamy wondered if it was to distract Lexa a bit). She dropped the jacket on the floor playfully.

“How are things going here? Last I heard you all were shippin’ off to Polis-” Y/n started.

“Y/n, I don’t really have time for small talk and I know you’re not here to talk about Polis. Please get on with why you’re here.” Lexa crossed her arms.

Y/n sat up in her seat and leaned forward, hands open to show trust. “SkaiKru came to us recently asking for our help. They say some of your men killed some of theirs. I know it wasn’t you and I know it wasn’t under your command, and we need your help stopping whoever is senselessly killing SkaiKru.”

“Well first off, I have no knowledge on any killings other than the few I ordered or those ordered by Anya. I ordered my people to leave SkaiKru alone.”

“I know, I believe you Lexa. But we need to find out a way to stop whoever is killing them. We need your help.”

Lexa paused and glanced over at Bellamy, who seemed unfazed by her piercing stare. “I don’t understand why you’re talking to me and not him? Are they your ally now? What happened to remaining ‘neutral’?”

Y/n noted the aggravated tone in Lexa’s last question. Last time Y/n had an audience with Lexa, she refused Lexa’s alliance pact. “You even told us that wasn’t going to last long…and you were right. Plus with Azgeda becoming more powerful, we need all the help and support we can get.” Y/n took a breath in and looked over her shoulder at Bellamy. “And you’re talking to me because I knew you’d listen to me and not him.” Y/n leaned in and whispered, “Lexa, they have guns. Yes, your people are better fighters but they’re nothing compared to automatic weapons. If your people keep threatening them, they will attack you. I don’t want to see any lives lost over a stupid turf war. Sign a treaty with them, like you did with us. You’ll make an ally out of them and it will insure we can help find whoever is going behind your back.”

Lexa searched Y/n’s face, almost like she was looking for some kind of answer. She then looked over at Bellamy. He cleared his throat awkwardly “We don’t want to cause any trouble. We brought the Free People into this because we weren’t sure what to do and we knew you’d trust Y/n. Please, we need your help. My friends are getting killed every day over nothing.”

Lexa looked back at Y/n, “Do you trust them?”

Y/n breathed in deeply and let out a calm breath. “As much as I trust you, Lexa.”

“Do you have any idea who is hurting SkaiKru?”

Bellamy and Y/n shook their heads no. Lexa’s eyebrows furrowed and she grew angry. “Help me figure out who is going against my command and then I’ll sign a treaty.” Y/n held out her hand and Lexa shook it gently. Their hands lingered for a second before Lexa got up from her seat. She paused at the tent entrance and peered over her shoulder. “I’m sure you can find your way out. Come back when you have names…or bodies.”

Y/n and the rest exited the TriKru territory; Y/n and Bjorn felt much better about the situation while the members of SkaiKru felt no different. They were still anxious and worried that Lexa was really going to help. They caught Miller, Octavia, Harper, and Murphy up on what happened as they walked back to the Free People camp.

Bellamy was detailing the events when suddenly Y/n stopped in her tracks. She held up a hand to stop the rest of the group. “Do you hear that?” She asked.

“I don’t hear anything.” Miller responded, straining his ears to hear whatever Y/n was talking about.

“Exactly.” There was no buzzing of insects or chirping of birds. The only sound was of the group’s heartbeat and the rushing water nearby. Y/n and Bellamy exchanged a worried glance, Y/n’s anxiety peaking when she realized what was going on. She pulled her bow up and pointed it toward the trees when an arrow whizzed through the air, striking her in her thigh. She cried out in pain as Bjorn sent a poison arrow in the direction the arrow came from. The 100 raised their guns at the ready and aimed it at the empty air.

Y/n broke the end of the arrow off so it wouldn’t be in the way, ripped the fabric from the bottom of her shirt, and tied it around the top of her thigh to stop the blood flow. She chose to ignore the way it stung, like the arrowhead was laced with poison. In her peripheral a large figure stepped from the shadows, pulling another arrow back. Bjorn sent another one of his arrows flying and hit the figure in its chest. Octavia ran into the woods in chase. She came face to face with a man twice her size. She swallowed a lump in her throat, but being the warrior she was, did not hesitate to push her sword into his stomach. He swung his sword and she ducked, kicking his legs out from under him. Once on the ground, Octavia lifted her sword once more and swung, when he yelled out, “Wait! Please don’t! I’ll do anything.” Octavia knew it was already too late to save him- he was bleeding out too much.

“Where are the others?” Octavia hissed. He pointed a shaking hand behind him.

“There’s a cave. They’re all there.”

Octavia stared at his pleading eyes and smiled a wicked grin, “Blood must have blood.” She dug the head of her sword into his skull and felt the life leave his body. She left his lifeless body on the forest floor and rejoined the group. “There’s a cave that one of them says they’re staying in.”

“Y/n’s bleeding out- we need to get her back.” Miller replied.

Y/n snorted and spoke between bated breaths, “Lexa wanted bodies. You guys need to get her those bodies.” After seeing the worried expressions of the 100, she added, “Don’t worry about me.”  

“How about I go with them?” Bjorn asked. Y/n shot him a surprised look.

“If you wish to. It would make me feel better knowing we helped to our fullest extent. Once you get them, bring them back to our camp. Lexa can come to us.” Y/n hunched over as the searing pain travelled up her leg.

“You can’t walk by yourself.” Bjorn said.

Y/n began to argue with him when Octavia said, “Murphy, you go with her.”

Y/n laughed, “I’d rather die, no thanks.” Murphy rolled his eyes without hesitation.

“I’ll go with her.” Bellamy interjected. The 100 looked at him with bewilderment. “That way she won’t kill Murphy and you guys will have to come back for me.” He sarcastically replied at their stares.

Y/n swayed slightly and Bjorn grabbed her before she could fall to the ground. “Are you sure you’re okay, Commander?”

She nodded, “Yeah I’m fine, let’s just get a move on please. Bjorn, you’re with SkaiKru. Blake, you’re with me. Bring me bodies that aren’t your own.” 

part 5 

I’d love some feedback, which you can send here!  You can also be added to the tags if you want! 

Tags:  @famchester @bunnyboo10154 @voidjillybean @clarkkeee @warning-fangirlmode-activated @s-wood @starshininginthedark @insporater

80. Diana Prince x Fem!Reader

Summary: Your older brother Bruce is reluctantly roped into playing matchmaker. He regrets it. Now he can barely go a day without hearing Clark and Diana go on about you.

Note: I also worked in another diana ask about her comforting a depressed reader.

Bruce rubbed his temples with his index fingers. He was so tired of hearing the same old speech every morning. Why was Alfred so concerned about your dating life? He sighed. 

“Alfred, (y/n) is a grown woman she can meet people on her own.”

Alfred shook his head. “Master Bruce I know that but I’ve noticed that two people in particular view her as more than a friend.”

Bruce, suddenly intrigued, sat forward in his chair. “Who?”

Alfred furrowed his brow. “Does the greatest detective in the world not know?”

Bruce frowned. “Very funny Alfred.”

A small smile spread across Alfred’s lips. “Why thank you sir I did think it was quite a good joke. I’ll give you a hint, they work with you in your night job.”

Bruce slowly raised his brows. Clark and Diana? What? How could he have missed that? Bruce sat back in his chair and thought about it. Well he wasn’t always that perceptive when it came to you. You two weren’t exactly the closest siblings. He nodded. “Okay should I tell (y/n)?”

Alfred shook his head. “No mast Bruce you mustn’t get in the way of matters of the heart, simply arrange all the domino’s in order and help tip the first one over.”

Bruce nodded slowly. “Okay, I think I know what you mean.” He closed his eyes and began to think of ways to go about it. Who knew he’d be playing matchmaker. 

-

You were in the batcave, working out when suddenly the doors swung open and in came Bruce with Clark and Diana in tow. Bruce stopped in front of you. 

“Oh, (y/n) sorry I didn’t know you’d be here.”

You furrowed your brows. “I work out at the same time every day?”

“Right well,” he said and turned to Clark and Diana, “I’ll be back in a minute. Just stay here while I go get the necessary things.”

The Bruce walked away faster than Clark could fly. You were left alone with Clark and Diana, who suddenly turned into awkward teenagers for some reason. You smiled at them as you stood up and wiped the sweat off your face. 

Diana couldn’t take her eyes off of you. You looked so good, even covered in sweat she couldn’t believe it. How??? She had to gather all the strength not to bite her lip as you slowly ran the towel down your neck. 

Clark on the other hand looked everywhere but at you. His cheeks were pink. 

You titled your head to the side a bit, confused. “You guys okay?”

Clark looked down at the ground. “Oh yeah fine, you Wonder Woman?”

Diana blinked and pulled herself out of the fantasy. “What?”

You smiled at shook your head softly. “You guys are so weird sometimes.” You walked over and grabbed the bottle of water resting on the table. You unscrewed the top and took a drink. A little bit of water spilled out from the sides and drops of water slid down your mouth and neck. 

Clark this time was looking, in fact her and Diana were staring at you. They couldn’t look away as the water trailed down your glistening neck. Diana felt a warmth start to build in her stomach. Clark pulled his gaze away, he knew what would happen if he kept staring. He’d start to think of you like he did at night and that would create a very embarrassing physical situation in his pants.

Bruce finally came back. He’d been watching as Diana and Clark ogled you. It did bother him a bit but he kind of enjoyed seeing them awkward around you. He smiled before walking back to the team. 

You gave Clark and Diana a quick hug before they left. Diana couldn’t get the scent of you out of her mind the rest of the night. Clark couldn’t think of anything else but you. They were so distracted the trinity almost lost a battle that night. 

Bruce was suddenly not amused anymore.

-

Diana was walking about the mansion trying to find the bathroom. She knew the mansion had to have at least twenty bathrooms but she couldn’t find a single one. 

That’s when she came upon you sitting on the floor in the hall, head banging slowly against the wall. As Diana approached and you noticed her you stopped and stood up. You tried to act as if nothing had happened. 

“Hey D,” you said with a smile. 

Diana walked up to you with a slight frown. “Is everything alright (y/n)?”

You nodded. “Yeah why wouldn’t it be?”

“You were just banging your head against the wall?”

Your stomach dropped. You didn’t know what to say. So you just stayed quiet and tried not to look Diana in the eye. Diana stepped closer and put her hand on your arm. 

“Is everything alright?” She asked as she tried to meet your gaze. 

You finally looked at Diana. She showed real concern in her eyes. You sighed. “No, I mean I’m-” You closed your eyes and buried your face in your hands. “I don’t know,” you mumbled. 

Diana wrapped you up in her arms. “You don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to. I just want you to know I’m here for you.”

You lowered your hand and wrapped them around Diana’s waist, letting your face rest on her chest. “Thank you,” you said and closed your eyes again. 

You stood in her embrace for a few moments before Clark barged in. 

“Oh sorry,” he said as he noticed you and Diana. 

You pulled away from Diana and smiled at Clark. “No it’s okay, did you need something?”

Clark scratched the back of his neck. “Oh uhm I,” he began but got nervous. He looked away from you for a second and cleared his throat. “I was wondering if you were free for dinner tonight?”

You and Diana both raised your brows at Clark. Diana couldn’t believe he’d actually made a move. 

You stepped closer to Clark. Diana suddenly missed the feeling of you wrapped around her and pouted. But your back was to her so you didn’t see it. 

“Are you asking me out on a date Clark?”

Clark looked at you, his cheeks slightly pink. “Yes.”

You smiled at him. “Oh uhm, okay.”

“Okay?” He asked, the smile audible in his voice. 

You nodded. “Why not?”

Clark smiled and gave you a quick hug. “I’ll swing by here at 7?”

You nodded again. “Alright.”

Clark walked away, smiling. He ran to tell Bruce. 

You turned around to find a frowning Diana with her arms crossed against her chest. You furrowed your brow. “Everything okay Diana?”

A strained smile spread across her lips. “Everything’s great. Will you excuse me for a minute?”

You nodded. “Sure.”

Diana walked away and straight for the batcave where she knew Clark was headed. 

-

“She said yes Bruce,” Clark said as he stood next to Bruce.

Bruce was fixing up one of the canons on the batmobile. He rolled his eyes. “Yes Clark I heard you the first twenty times.”

Clark couldn’t stop smiling. “I’m sorry I’m just so excited. I didn’t think she’d say yes.”

Bruce sighed. “Well she did so if you’ll excuse me I have to-”

“What the hell Clark? You knew I liked (y/n)!” Diana walked into the batcave, visibly angry.

Bruce closed his eyes and sighed deeply. He really shouldn’t have meddled in your love life because now it was coming back to bite him in the ass.

Clark turned around. “Diana I thought we said all is fair in love and-”

“Well if war is what you want I can bring it fly boy,” Diana said as she closed the gap between her and Clark. 

They were of similar height but Diana’s presence was rather intimidating. Not that Clark would admit it. He crossed his arms against this chest to appear as intimidating as Diana. But Diana wasn’t phased. 

Bruce put down his tools and turned around. “Listen if you two could take this somewhere else I have-”

“You know what this is all your fault. Why did you even have to tell us that (y/n) liked us both?” Diana said as she turned to Bruce. 

Clark nodded. “Diana’s right.” 

Bruce looked back and forth between Clark and Diana, not believing what was happening. “This is the last time I listen to Alfred,” he whispered to himself. He sighed and looked at Diana. “Just go up and ask her which one of you she prefers and be done with it all. I just want to fix this canon.”

Diana turned to Clark. “Are you ready to face the music?”

Clark nodded. “Are you?”

Diana started towards the door. She wasn’t exactly confident you’d pick her but she had to try didn’t she?

-

 You smiled as you felt Diana’s hand dig softly into your lower back. “This feels so good,” you murmured. 

Diana smiled. “I told you my hands were magic.”

You chuckled. “Well you proved that last night dear.”

Diana couldn’t help the blush that filled her cheeks. “There are many more nights like that in our future.” Diana stopped massaging your back and grabbed a towel to wipe off the excess oil. 

You turned to face her and smiled. “I’ll look forward to every night forever with you Diana Prince.”

Diana smiled and bent down to press her lips against yours. She couldn’t help but smile into the kiss. You shook your head, a soft laugh escaping your lips. You wrapped your arms around her neck and pulled her down on top of you. Diana put her hands on your hips and settled her thigh in between your legs. You pulled away and looked into her eyes as you ground down against her thigh. 

Diana smirked. “It’s not even 6pm yet (y/n).”

You shrugged. “It’s midnight somewhere babe,” you said and pulled her down for another kiss.

Unpopular opinion: I like Echo

Yes, for some reason I am strangely invested in her character: I guess all the camera close-up shots of her gorgeous face and reactions are working in my subconscious.

I get that people don’t like her because she is an antagonist to Skaikru and she has betrayed Bellamy them on several occasions. But yeah, in my opinion Echo is a very interesting character because she represents all the Azgeda traits in their pure form. Echo is the stereotype of an Ice Nation warrior: loyal, ruthless and distrustful. And as a symbol, her reactions are very telling of where the writers are going in the narrative.

To me, Echo represents hope and forgiveness.  Hope, because I think they are setting her up to start opening-up her point of view and reassessing her beliefs and values through Roan and Bellamy. And if the person who represents the stereotype of an Azgeda can start sympathizing with a Skaikru person, then there is HOPE for future peace between both tribes. Co-habitation is possible (if they survive Primefire 2.0, of course!).

If last season, some members of the Skaikru had to learn to relate to other tribes, I feel the writers are turning the theme around this time: getting some grounders to reevaluate their vision of Skaikru, and Echo will probably symbolize this shift.

Tagging @abazethe100, @insufficient-earth-skills, @easnadh1, @the-ships-to-rule-them-all, @ginalou16, @foghthatsme, @rosymamacita because I enjoy reading your metas, and like getting your opinion  (if you want of course!).

Do not read if you have not watched 4x04, there might be spoilers!

Right now, Echo follows her Azgeda up-bringing and rules: cold-blooded demeanor, hiding her emotions, disdainful. As a faithful Royal Guard, she cannot show any sign of weakness. However, it is clear this season that some turmoil is going on within her.

She is starting to self-question things through her interactions with Roan and Bellamy.

Her interactions with Roan are going to help her understand that lenience is not weakness:

Extremely loyal to Queen Nia, Echo seems to have put her on a pedestal. Nia’s way of ruling with fear and violence seems to be all she knows and respects. But Roan is clearly different than his mother and seems to have a high sense of honor and a willingness to make alliances to avoid war. This vision of ruling is new to Echo and it clearly unsettles her. She is doing everything she can to convince Roan that Skaikru are not to be trusted. Because to her trust is a sign of weakness. But somehow Roan doesn’t completely believe that; he is willing to give them the benefit of the doubt.

Clearly, Echo is very loyal to the royal family, respects Roan and will do evruthing she can to protect him. The devotion she has towards him is going to create a breach in her convictions. As events unfold, Echo is going to start questioning some of Nia’s teachings: you don’t have to break an adversary to survive, sometimes working with your adversary can make you stronger, not weak. Roan is the path leading to a reassessment of her beliefs.

 And her interactions with Bellamy, are going to make her see Skaikru people as humans:

Bellamy seems to be the first non-Azgeda person who she seems to respect. Clearly, what he did in Mount Weather meant something to her: he was not one of her people, didn’t know her, but still, he saved her. That a non-Azgeda would care enough to save her was something completely unthinkable for her. But it happened, and now she owes him.

She “repays” his favor back in Mount Weather 2.0 by luring him out before it explodes. To Bellamy, this was clearly a betrayal (#ginawasreal), but to her, she did what she was ordered to do for her people, while at the same time saving him. She is an Azgeda warrior and as one, she followed what she believed was best for her people and felt true to her code of honor.

The fact that Bellamy saved her created a connection with him that she cannot shake. She is fulfilling her duties as a spy and royal guard, but she tries to spare Bellamy as much as she can. Yes, really.

Yes, she threatened Clarke, but she did release her when Bellamy told her to

  Yes, she killed a sky guard, but she conveniently chose to kill the other person, not Bellamy

Yes, she “killed” Octavia, but didn’t want to. She said several times she wanted her alive.

Did you notice her reaction when she had to tell Bellamy about Octavia? Her face didn’t show a shred of proudness: her eyes were watery, she stiffened and couldn’t even mutter the words. When Roan “asks” her to tell Bellamy what happened, she just throws Octavia’s sword to his feet, unable to say anything. In her head she has managed to betray him yet again by fulfilling her duties as a Royal guard. And she cannot shake the guilt of hurting the man who saved her when she thought all hope was gone.

When Bellamy shatters in despair, it is clear she is shaken to the very core. She winces and struggles to remain impassible. But her glistening eyes betray the turmoil going on inside her.

“It was a good death” she says awkwardly, her words sounding ironic even for her. Because she realizes that those words are empty for Bellamy: he just lost his sister, his only family. Echo now full-blown faces the consequences of her actions, just like Bellamy did in Nevermore with Niylah. The camera shows her face so we can see the internal struggle she is having, trying to control her emotions.

It seems that she is starting to sense something that Bellamy realized last season: the end does not justify the means. Until now, it was easy for her to tell herself that everything she did was for her people, no matter what it was.

Just like Bellamy Echo is fully dedicated to her people, and just like him, she would do anything for them, even the unthinkable. For her people, she kills without remorse, betrays without guilt. But all this is changing with Bellamy: he is no longer a stranger, he is a person. He is entering her circle of trust. She is going through a similar arc than Bellamy last season.

She needs to remove her Azgeda-googles and broaden her horizons: trust is not weakness, violence is not an answer for everything. There is more to life than survival.

 I think that as Echo’s perspective is going to change, some of the conflict going on between Azgeda and Skaikru will resolve. They will be able to unite to face the biggest of all threats: the nuclear apocalypse.

I also think that Echo could be a good foil to Bellamy, helping him realize how much he has changed, how far he has come and how he has managed to change since last season. She may even contribute to help Bellamy accept what he did.

Anyway, I cannot wait to see Echo’s character development and interactions with Roan and Bellamy! I feel their interactions can benefit all of them in their personal understanding of life and could really help character development.

So, what do you guys think: am I reaching? do you agree with my POV on Echo?

For the Bellarke prompt, how about costars!Bellarke where one of them accidentally lets out their secret relationship during a live interview? :) .. Or if you would prefer canon, Bellamy in the scene where Monty reads the list. :)

Hey anon! Sorry this is kind of late. I saw this like an hour ago. I wrote the costars!Bellarke. Hope you like it!

Show You

Pairing: BellarkeWords: 1923

“Happy Tuesday, everyone! We are live here at the E! News studio. Today I have the pleasure of sitting down with the two main star, Clarke Griffin and Bellamy Blake, of the new hit drama Arkadia. To everyone at home watching if you haven’t seen Arkadia, you must be living in a space station because this is the hottest show on television right now.” Gina said through a huge smile of pearly whites. Clarke fidgeted with the hem of her skirt. She hated interviews. She always came out of it feeling phony because all the makeup and hair extensions. Not to mention her face always hurt afterward due to speaking through a fake smile. Today, was no exception but she was a little more nervous than usual and it was all because of her handsome costar/secret boyfriend beside her. Bellamy seemed to notice and titled his head slightly as he eyed her carefully. She smiled and gave him a discreet nod informing him not to worry. “Clarke Griffin and Bellamy Blake it is so nice to have you both come down to the studio.” “It’s always nice to see you Gina.” Bellamy replied with a small wink. “Bellamy Blake always the charmer.” Gina replied with a giggle. Clarke stiffened and suppressed the eye roll that was begging to present itself to Gina’s flirtatious giggle. Clarke instead plastered on the most fake real smile she could muster. She knew Bellamy was only putting up a front like she was now but hot damn was she getting irritated “Everyone who watches the show knows that the two of you play Eliza and Bob, best friends who form a band and make it big. Now your characters are trying to deal with the pressures of fame and how it can affect every aspect of your life. The story lines that your two characters are getting hit with this season are dark, pretty tough stuff. Did you both have to dig deep to relate to Eliza and Bob?” Gina questioned with a serious expression. “Eliza is trying act and look the way that society pressures women to think they have to be in order to be unrealistically perfect. I have to say that I give our showrunners Raven Reyes and Luna Nightblood and the writers a lot of credit, because they are taking Eliza through a journey so many women are dealing with but yet Hollywood refuses to acknowledge.” Clarke’s response puts a smile on Gina’s face as she nodded with agreement. “You know how it is Gina. You work in this business. Society puts a lot a pressure on us women to have unrealistic ‘beauty’ perfection. So, I guess I can say I do relate to Eliza and her journey.” “You got that right.” Gina gives Clarke a high five and then turns to Bellamy. “Raven threatened me if I spoiled anything she’d kick my ass.” Bellamy eyes widened. “I’m so sorry. I know we aren’t supposed to curse.” Clarke and Gina both laughed at Bellamy’s expense. “Oh, well it happens.” Was Gina’s response. “Sorry, again.” Bellamy apologizes once more and continues. “So, all I’m going to say is Bob and I are like completely different people. I couldn’t relate and had to really dig deep to get into his mind.” Bellamy responded with a timid smile. “Does that mean Bliza is going to happen? I’m sure you know that the pairing is a fan favorite.” Gina crosses her legs and sits more attentive. Clarke feels her palms sweating. She knows the question isn’t about them but about their characters. Still, Clarke can’t help the nerves that take hold of her. It was because of the show that Clarke and Bellamy realized they had a connection that was more than partners. Their characters were slowly building up to a romance and the scenes had pushed them to work closer together. Forcing Clarke and Bellamy to realize they weren’t just acting, it was real. “You know we can’t say.” Bellamy responds with a cocky smile on his face. “Of course but a girl can ask.” Gina responds oozing sex. Clarke can feel the irritation grow to anger. Gina smile changes in an instant from sexy to a grin. “I hear that you’re a big basketball fan.” “A Spurs fan. I bleed black and silver.” Bellamy responds automatically causing Clarke to roll her eyes with a grin. Fan was understatement. He played any chance he got and watched every game he could. Before she met Bellamy Clarke knew nothing about basketball. Never had some much as even picked up a ball. Now, after a few months of dating Clarke was getting pretty good at dribbling. “We decided it be fun to have a game of hoops.” Just as Gina finishes speaking two men wheel in two basketball hoops and rack of basketballs. Clarke looks to Bellamy with wide eyes and shakes her head. “Oh, this is so not fair. He is always playing. There is no competition.” Clarke’s statement causes Bellamy to laugh because he knows just how competitive she is. He grabs her hand and pulls her toward the rack of balls. “Oh, come on. It’ll be fun. I’ll go easy on you.” “Don’t you dare. I may not be good but I’ll take the L like a champs.” Bellamy eyes darken as his smirk turns sexy and Clarke has to take a step back. They wanted to keep their relationship under the radar but if he kept that up she was going to kiss him here right in front of everyone on live television. Gina comes to stand beside them eyeing their hands and close proximity causing Clarke to pull away, as causally as possible. She’s pretty sure she wasn’t in anyway discreet. “Are you guys ready?” Gina asks. Clarke moves to her rack of balls and sticks her tongue out a Bellamy who returns the gesture. “I take that as a yes.” Gina begins to count down from three and when she hits one a buzzer sounds off. Bellamy is on fire the minute he grabs the ball. His are nothing but net and all the while he is talking to Clarke making it look effortless. “Come on, Princess. I know you can do better than that.” He taunts hoping to get Clarke’s to competitive side to really show. Clarke is throwing the balls but they don’t even make it close to the hoop. They keep falling short. Clarke is on her last ball and Bellamy’s taunting is causing a heat to rise in her blood. She grabs the last ball and throws it as hard as she can. Clarke watches as the ball hits the rim of the hoop flies back and toward Bellamy. The next moment the ball is hitting Bellamy square in the face, blindsighting him. “OH MY GOD! BELLAMY!” Clarke yelps as she runs toward Bellamy. He is covering his nose and his eyes are watery and red. “I’m the worst girlfriend ever. I’m so sorry.” Clarke says as she grabs for Bellamy’s hands, “Babe, let me see.” Before she can even touch them he is shaking his head. “It’s okay. Bleeding.” Bellamy’s muffled voice echoes down at her. Boy, was Bellamy bleeding. The blood had already began to seep out from his hands. The medics on sight rushed to Bellamy’s side and usher him out of the camera view. Clarke begins to follow when Gina calls out. “Did you just say girlfriend?” Clarke stops in her tracks. Her blood was boiling. Did she really just ask her that when Bellamy had gotten hurt. “Yes, I’m his girlfriend. If you don’t mind I need to see if my boyfriend is okay.” Clarke’s words were icey but it didn’t make Gina flinch. She smiled at the camera and said. “You heard it first on E! News Clarke Griffin and Bellamy Blake are an item.” Clarke rolled her eyes and huffed in annoyance as she stalked off after Bellamy. ~ Her legs were intertwined with his and they lay on the couch watching a movie about life after nuclear war. Bellamy’s phone began to ring shattering the nice comfortable bubble they were in. “What Murphy?” He looks down at Clarke and rolls his eyes. “Yeah you too, asshole. See you tomorrow.” Bellamy ends the call and instantly his phone chimes. “Murphy is a real dick.” Bellamy says as he shows Clarke his phone. “Look what he sent.” He opens up the video and it’s of Bellamy getting hit in the face by the basketball but someone’s remixed it. Bellamy’s getting hit over and over but the scenery changes and it’s in tune with the song. Clarke instantly begins to laugh. “I’m sorry but that is hilarious.” She says between laughs. Bellamy grabs Clarke and rolls them off of the couch and onto the floor. She shrieks and continues to laugh as he pins her to the floor. “You broke my nose, told everyone we are together, and now you’re going to laugh at my expense. Of course I’m glad you told everyone. Now I can kiss you whenever I want,” He says as he looks down at her. After everything Bellamy wasn’t upset with her. He just kept teasing her throughout the day calling her the Nose Slayer. Even then he was kissing her and hugging her while he called her Nose Slayer. So she knows that his words are meant for teasing but his eyes are anything but teasing. They are glistening down at her like they have never before. The heat takes root in her belly and makes it way all the way to her toes and to the top of her head. Her heart is pounding and yet it feels still. “I love you.” It just blurts out of Clarke. She doesn’t regret it either because in that moment she feels it. Bellamy’s eyes widen and he begins to laugh jubilantly. “I love you too!” He says with a smile from ear to ear and his face glowing with happiness. He digs his face into crock of Clarke’s neck leaving a trail of kisses and whispering I love you over and over again. Suddenly he stops tries to look at Clarke with a serious expression. He is failing miserably. “Breaking my nose is how you show me you love me?” Bellamy questions with a teasing smile on his lips. Clarke shakes her and places both hands on either side of Bellamy’s face and gently brings her mouth to his. The kiss is soft, slow, and sensual. Clarke pulls away and sees Bellamy with two dark circles under his eyes, bandage on his nose, a goofy smile on his lips; she can’t help but feel lucky. Lucky enough to have someone love her even when she screws things up, and breaks their nose on accident. “That’s how I show you I love you.”

OMG You are a goddess for sending me Terry!!!!! I LOVED IT SO MUCH!!!!! ps I would be very keen on reading the rest if u post it. *whispers* Smut isnt something i mind at all, lol. You made my day with that masterpiece!!

Well, I must say I don’t think I’ve ever been called a goddess before! What a compliment. Thank you. And as promised, here is some more. I’m not sure how the smut went, but I hope it’s not too bad ;)

You talked until most of your friends had left, and the other drunk parties around had mostly dispersed. You had tons of questions, all about the band, all about Terry, a man you’d only read about in papers, only heard about a while ago. You wanted the story from his mouth. And not just the story of how he got into the Hollies. No, you had to know a lot more than that. To really get a feel for the guy, you listened to as much of his life story he was willing to offer.

As he spoke, you realised that he’d known so many people, George Harrison and his brothers, John Lennon and Paul McCartney, the Swinging Blue Jeans of which he had been a member.

However, you also realised that, despite all this, the fame that the Hollies were beginning to give him, the tales of people he’d met, the stories he could tell, he was a down to earth young man, a shy boy stepping nervously into a pretty hectic world of which he’d only had a taste and was craving more. He had passion for what he did, a deep interest and love in music.

It was in that conversation that you decided how you felt about him. You liked him, perhaps better than Graham Nash. You’d always had the thought in the back of your mind since you heard Hollies Sing Dylan and Sorry Suzanne that perhaps his voice matched Allan Clarke’s better than Graham’s, but admitting it was hard until now. Until you look into his eyes, smile, because his own is so infectious, and confess to yourself as you listen to him talk that you are kind of falling for him.

And something in his shy glances up at you gives you the sense that he may feel a similar way. You let him finish talking, then gulp down the last of the drink you’ve been idly playing with between sips. He does the same. You’re both finished, you’ve spoken through the evening, practically until closing time of the bar. What more is there to do but ask;

“So, are you going home after this?” You almost pat yourself on the back for having the courage to even allude to anything further.

Terry’s eyes glimpse knowingly at you, “I was going to, yeah. Nothing better to do.”

For you, it is too easy. You’ve a naughty mind, people have told you so before. You can’t help it, though. It’s your playful side, your silly side and boy are you sure you’ll get a laugh out of him for the line you’ve just thought up. Laughing at yourself disapprovingly, you lean forward, pushing your chest out suggestively, and very deliberately, and open your lips.

“Well, now you have someone to do.”

Ok, so it wasn’t that funny, it sounded much better unspoken, as a secret joke only your privy to. But the slight shock and suggestiveness brings about a good enough, shy laugh from Terry’s lips. That is a win. You sit back in your chair, crossing your arms over your chest, slightly pushing up your breasts and gaze at him with a sleek, flirtatious look, waiting for a reply. It may not have been a question as such, rather more of an offer, but you wait to see if he’ll take you up on it, if he even gets it in the first place.

For as much of a sweetheart as he seems, with such a young, innocent face, you know full well that he is a red-blooded man and there is no way that he really could miss at least the idea you’re suggesting. Certainly not when his smile has taken on a more amused, approving look to it.

“Would you be interested in coming back to mine for a…” He trails off as he realises he’s already bought you a drink. He’s bought you two, in fact. Asking you back for yet another one might seem like too much, especially when you’ve already been slow in finishing the ones you had, but what he seems to be forgetting is that it’s merely an excuse, a formality, a pleasantry. If he really is getting what you’re implying, it doesn’t matter what line he uses to get you back to his place, or even to go to yours. It’s just that, a line.

So, it doesn’t even matter if he doesn’t finish the sentence. To help him, you say, “Sure. Let me get my coat.”

He looks surprised, and pleased, of course. You chuckle to yourself as you get up and walk out amongst the tables. Your coat remains on one you’d been sitting on with your work friends. Not one of them are still around. As you pull the garment on, Terry joins you, waiting patiently, even helping when you fail to hook your hand in the coat’s sleeve. He pulls it up over your shoulder and draws both sides of the collar closer together to ensure it’s on properly and keeping you warm. As he does so, though, one of his long fingers brushes your neck. He’s quite cold, the feeling lingering on your flesh longer than the touch. You gaze up at him, wondering if it was intentional or not, but his expression is discernible. He merely carries on as if nothing happened, but beams brightly, eyes glistening like a kid who knows he’s done something bad.

“Ready?”

“Oh, I think I am.” And you think this is going to be fun. More fun than you originally imagined when the thought of you spending any time with him entered your mind.

He pivots on his heels, heading towards the door of the bar and you follow not two steps behind. Having no car and being probably too tipsy to drive, he hails a cab while you stand, cold at the road side, watching his timid gestures at the vehicles. The night may not be a kind one, it is England after all and autumn has set in with its brown leaves carpeting the pavements, but just the sight of Terry has you warm. You care not for the bracing wind that blows your hair mussed, nor the slight dampness that threatens in the air, a light shower hanging in the purple clouds above. You ignore your goosepimpled legs, shivering beneath your skirt with only a thin layer of sheer fabric protecting them and you disregard the numbing in your fingers, as you had a poor choice in coats, this one has no pockets to warm hands in. Instead, you are preoccupied from these discomforts by Terry. You notice that his dark moptop is long enough to be blown by the wind too, ruffling it. When he looks at you, strands of it brush his face, over his nose and over his eyes. You also see the way his flared trousers are rounded at the bottom quite perfectly as he stands, leaning slightly forward to flag down a car. They billow around his ankles, covering the top of his dark coloured boots.

Ah and when a cab does turn up, he pulls open the door for you, like a real gentleman. As you get in, you try your hardest to be dainty, composed. You have a knack for being clumsy. Thankfully, it seems to work- either that, or your clumsiness goes unnoticed- and he gets in after you, sitting right by your side. Now you’re touching, your arms, your calves. You can hear him breathing. You hear the rustle of his clothes as he sits forward and tells the driver where to go. You can hardly believe this is happening. Not only are you going home with a guy you met in a bar that night, which in and of itself is surprising, but this man is… well, if he is not a famous musician, he is sweet, he is damned good looking.

In your mind, you pat yourself on the back for taking this chance. You can’t wait for the payoff.

Which seems to be coming soon as the drive is short, the cab pulls up in a street that you half recognise and Terry helps you out of the car with an outstretched hand. He doesn’t let go once he’s got hold of you. Gently, he guides you to the front door, fumbles with his keys with his free hand and lets you both in.

As soon as the door is closed with you both on the other side, Terry spins you around and kisses you. His lips are full, soft to kiss, and he is very gentle, pressing you lightly against the wall, just so you have something to prop yourself up against. You hear, as you have closed your eyes, the clang of his keys tossed on a chest of draws beside you, then feel his hand draw up to rest on your hip. You bring yours up and cling to his torso, tightly. He has a wonderful, slender body to look at, never mind actually feel. Now that you do, though, you’re intoxicated. You have to feel more. You’re the first to make a move, sliding one hand to his front and tucking it into the hole between buttons of his shirt. His chest is dusted lightly with hair, one trail of it reaching to his belly button. He feels hot, smooth. You want to really hold him, so you start to unbutton the shirt, inviting him to do the same to you.

He unbuttons your shirt about halfway and appears to get impatience. He pulls apart the severed flaps of the garment, revealing your dark green bra adorned in a layer of black lace. He cups one of your clothed breasts, feeling it, before he breaks the kiss to look at what he is holding, appreciatively. That is until looking simply is not enough. He pulls down the bra and encloses his mouth around your nipple. You gasp, rising onto your tiptoes at the first shot of pleasure running down your spine. One of your hands involuntarily reaches up and knots its finger into his thick hair, while the other attempts to pull the coat still around your shoulders off. It ends up gathering at your back, falling only when you move, letting it pool on the ground. With this layer gone, Terry decides it’s time to shed some more clothes.

He finishes removing your shirt, then moves onto unhooking your bra after sliding his own shirt off his arms onto the floor. He kicks off his shoes while you unlace yours- you curse yourself for wearing strappy kitten heels- and peel off your tights. Then he grasps your waist, quite forcefully, which is a bit of a shock from a man who has been, so far, as gentle as a butterfly.

“Do you think we can make it up to my bed?” He asks. You mockingly consider it for a moment.

“If not, could we not make use of the stairs?”

“Sounds like a plan.”

He continues to hold onto you as you both head for the stairs. Behind you, you’ve left a pool of clothing, making it look as though two people have evaporated into thin air, leaving behind only their outfits. Well, minus the trousers and your skirt. That’s the best bit to remove, no? You’re going to savour the moment with his, while he has other plans for you.

You both enter the bedroom, a cosy, slightly messy room whose defining feature is not the bed, which is pushed up against the far wall, but an acoustic guitar leant on a stand next to a leaking wardrobe. You recognise it from picture you’d seen of the Hollies on stage. It hits you once again just who’s room you’re standing in, goggling at as though it were a showroom.

But you’ve not much time to really look at it all, as Terry walks up behind you, feathering his hand up your thigh. As it gets higher, your skirt is hiked up sending a soft breeze that wakes the skin there. His hands are still pretty cold, so you feel his touch lingering, all the way up to your hip.

“May I?” He asks politely, tugging on the waistband of your underwear.

You peer over your shoulder, eyes half fluttering closed as anticipation builds. You manage to whisper, “Of course,” though you are sure that’ll be the last coherent phrase you’ll speak all night. You’re already moaning as he threads your underwear down your legs with one hand while the other parts you, parts your lips and feels between them.

He remains behind you, for some reason, after removing your underwear. He slowly nears you until he moves the hand pleasuring you to the front and presses his front against your back. You’re quite a lot shorter than he is. He can practically rest his chin on the top of your head, should he want to. He does not, it seems. He has more interesting touches to press against you, like the distinct hardness resting just above your butt. He’s hard for you. The idea ignites a flame of pleasure below your stomach. You ache for him. His fingers slowly rubbing you is not enough. You imagine what he looks like completely nude, what it would feel like to have him inside you.

For now, however, he makes you rest your head on his shoulder so he can reach your lips. He kisses you, still quite gently, which he pleasures you. You whimper into his mouth, begging with those small sounds for more. He begins to understand as you thrust your hips into his hand for more friction.

“Turn around.” He moves his lips from yours to speak, quietly. You obey, turning close to him so you don’t miss the heat of his body, the touch of his flesh, his chest. He moves you just a step back, barely even that, so he can reach down and unzip his fly. You watch hungrily as he pushes the trousers out of the way, reaches into his briefs and pulls himself out of them. His hardness accidentally brushes your stomach, which he would’ve apologised for had you not stolen the silly words from his throat by collapsing onto your knees and enthusiastically taken him in your mouth. He groans quite loudly, perhaps the loudest he’s been all night, which tells you that you’re doing a good job. In fact, you even think you’ve surprised him.

He places one hand on the back of your head, gripping your hair lightly, just for a handhold to steady himself, while the other reaches down to hold one of yours. You have your left hooked on his trousers which hang below his butt. He sides his fingers around your knuckles and clasps them tight when it feels really good.

When he starts to hold you that tight the whole time, he decides it might be time to stop.

“I’ve got to have you,” He tells you, helping you back onto your feet, “I’d hate to be short with you.”

You giggle, turned on and nervous, mostly because your legs have turned to jelly and you’re feeling clumsy with desperation. Thankfully, he saves you of embarrassment, keeping hold of you, guiding you to the bed. He kisses you, pushing you back until you buckle onto the mattress, until you’re lying on it, under him. He then brings up his hand, presenting two of his long fingers, the middle and ring finger. He places them into his mouth, sucks, slicking them up ready to insert them inside you. They slip in easy, because you are already wet for him, so he doesn’t spend all that much time playing around down there. He grasps hold of his rock hard member and guides it into you.

The first thrust causes every nerve ending to explode with pleasure. You grip the sheets beside you, pulling them up on one side to your mouth, muffling the gasps you cannot stifle. But Terry wants to hear them. Kindly, he intertwines his fingers in yours, making no space for the sheets. They fall back around you.

For much of the time he has you, you’re looking into his eyes. It is downright impossible in your state of mind to fathom what you’re looking at. You’ve been disbelieving of it all night: you bagged a Hollie and you thought it would really hit you when he was inside of you, having you hard in his bed. Apparently, it remained as surreal, like a trip, like a dream. Even more so as pleasure rose within you, spiking as he thrusts harder, lulling as he lazily does. And when he kisses you, you’re sure to study the taste, the movements. You never want to forget this. It’ll fuel your fantasies for the rest of your life. Most girls, they dream of being fucked by musicians. Who didn’t imagine a Beatle on occasion? There were many who probably dreamt of the Hollies. But all your dreams will merely be recalling this moment.

Because you’re not sure if he’ll see you again. You’re not sure if you’ll see him again. He’s busy and you’re the worst with keeping in contact with people. So, if this really is going to be the only time, you have to remember every little bit.

Like the look on his face when he realises he’s made you come. You lie beneath him, writhing, shaking, while he watches on, pleased and proud. It doesn’t take him much longer to announce that he’s about to climax too. He pulls out of you and wraps his hand around himself. You watch the pleasure take over his expression, the way his brow furrows and he bites his lip, then he spills over your stomach, which he goes to apologise for once the shockwaves have subsided. But, of course, you stop him.

“Don’t you dare.”

“What?”

“Apologise for anything. That was so hot.”

He smiles shyly again. How can he be shy? You roll your eyes at him, jokingly.

“Well, I think you need to get cleaned up. Would you like to take a shower with me?”

Your heart, which has already taken quite a beating and still thumps erratically in your chest, skips a beat. As if the night could not get any better. It does not take you a moment to think before you agree.

Then, as you both walk on shaky legs to the bathroom, he turns around and whispers, “I think its also far too late for you to go home. You might have to stay the night.”

“Oh no,” You feign disappointment, “that would be terrible.”

“Well, I am sorry, but I am also going to have to ask for your number.”

As though he read your mind, your scepticism in whether you’d see him again, he confirms in that moment that you’ll have to see him again. And you’re not complaining, not one little bit.

Dealing with It

“Maggie or Alex losing their best friend (not through death tho) and them dealing with that? If that makes sense? Oh and if you made one of both nb you’re my lifesaver ❤️❤️ “ prompt from @trustfool 

Maggie’s friend in this is from this old fic: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8856772/chapters/20510218

There was only one person they ever called from back home. From back in Blue Springs.

But they called him, reliably, every week.

“He was the only other out gay kid in our town,” Maggie had explained to Alex the first time she heard them on the phone, simply, quietly, with a shrug. 

Like it wasn’t a big deal.

Like their decades-long friendship wasn’t a big deal.

Like them taking punches for each other and leaving bruises for each other wasn’t a big deal.

He’d come out to them when they were both fifteen, one eye swollen shut and the other eye full of tears.

They’d come out to him when they were both fourteen, when... well, when the whole school, the whole town, found out. So, they hadn’t really had to come out to him, specifically.

Because suddenly, overnight, they were just out to everyone.

But they did have to come out to him later, so much later. About gender. About pronouns. About “you still love me, right, man?”

And he did.

Of course he did.

It took him a minute. Alex told Maggie she could fly down to Blue Springs and beat some sense into him.

She hadn’t had to.

He loved her, more than he loved his own preconceptions about the way the world is.

So it wasn’t his fault, not exactly, when one week they realized they just weren’t connecting the way they used to.

That Maggie’s stories about aliens and death and kidnap and torture just weren’t connecting with his life of beer and pool and work.

“My life is beer and pool and work, too, Tommy,” they’d protested sadly. “Just... a different kind of work.”

They didn’t fight.

Sometimes, Maggie wished they had.

Instead, they just... fizzled.

After all this time, after all these years, the past wasn’t enough to keep them in each other’s present, to launch them into each other’s futures.

“And it’s okay,” they told Alex one night, but their knuckles were red from their heavy bag and their eyes were glistening with unshed tears, because no, no, it was was not okay.

“It’s whatever, you know? I’m dealing with it, I just... it’s like I don’t have any pieces left. Of that part of my life. You know?”

Alex kissed their forehead and thought of Kara; she thought of Kara and of Clark and of Lena. She thought of watching the people she loved lose their pasts so quickly, so deeply, so harshly.

Tears stung her eyes.

“Yeah. I do. And I know... I know it’s not the same, and I know it’s not enough. But those pieces aren’t gone, Mags. They’re still in you.”

Maggie put their index finger under their bottom lip and shook their head. “But maybe not, I mean... your memories aren’t just yours, right? Other people have memories, too. Of course. And sometimes, other people’s memories become your own because that’s... well, that’s what history is, isn’t it? And I guess... I feel like without him, I don’t... I don’t have any of it. Not anymore, not even a little piece.”

“I’m so sorry,” Alex whispered, because there was nothing else. She kissed them and she held them and she fed them vegan ice cream. She licked a bit of melted ice cream off their bottom lip, and she made them smile.

It made Alex’s heart sing.

“I know you don’t like it. Talking about yourself. But, if you want... and I know it’ll never be the same... you can talk to me. About Blue Springs. I know you do, in bits and pieces, but... when Kara got here, she’d... she would tell me everything, like she was vomiting an encyclopedia, so she wouldn’t be the only one left who... remembered.”

“You don’t wanna hear my Blue Springs sob stories, Danvers,” Maggie sniffled, apologetically trying to wipe tears and snot off Alex’s shirt.

Alex stopped them with gentle hands and even gentler eyes. “I do. Always. And... losing a friend? It’s like mourning. Even if they’re still out there in the world, all well and fine, it’s... it’s like mourning. You can mourn, Mags. With me. And... and there’s a reason people tell stories, when they mourn. You know?”

“To break the awkward silence after a funeral?” Maggie offered dryly, and Alex rolled her eyes and kissed Maggie’s nose.

“To process, babe. And I’m here, okay? For whatever mourning or processing or celebrating you need to do. Okay?”

Maggie’s eyes softened under Alex’s tender gaze.

“Does that include feeding me more vegan ice cream?”

Alex smiled, and Maggie’s lips twitched upward, too.

“Always.”

A Life So Changed: Chapter Thirty-One

Author: Lopithecus Pairing: Clark Kent/Bruce Wayne Rating: Explicit Word Count: 6152 Alternate: AO3, fanfiction.net Author's Note: I’m sorry this is late! Enjoy!

Chapter Thirty-One:

Bruce and Wally sit down in the damp cave, the computer working its magic at an impossibly slow pace. Wally is behind him, pacing at super speed and wearing down the stone of the floor. He stops briefly to pear at the computer with wide, worried eyes. “Anything?”

Bruce shakes his head where it is resting on his hand. “This kind of test takes time, Wally.”

“I know but I need to know. It’s important.”

“I know, trust me, I know.” Bruce glances up at the computer, the screen showing all kinds of test that are currently going. “We’ll figure it out Wally, I promise. And if it turns out you can’t have an abortion, then we’ll figure something out.”

Wally bites his bottom lip and starts pacing again, except this time at normal speed. “I can’t have this baby. I just can’t. I… feel terrible for Kori enough as it is. If I have a baby because Dick cheated on her with me…” Wally stops pacing and hangs his head, shoulders slumping.

Bruce thins his lips, understanding where Wally is coming from. “You feel guilty.”

Wally nods then eyes him from the corners of his eyes. “Bruce? Are you sure you would be fine with me getting rid of the baby?”

“Why wouldn’t I be? It’s your baby.”

“But your grandchild.” Wally’s lips purse and his hand lowers to his stomach. “The baby is related to you. Your family.”

“Wally, I’m not going to tell you to keep a baby you don’t want; family or not.” Bruce stands and places a comforting hand on Wally’s shoulder. “I know where you’re coming from. Clark was still mated when we slept together and I got pregnant. But Wally, I wish no one had told me what they wanted me to do. I wish they would have just let me decide on my own.” Wally frowns. “I made the mistake of asking them and then felt pressured into pleasing them. It took one of my sons to make me realize how unlike me that was. I don’t want that to happen to you.” Wally nods in understanding. “It’s going to be okay, Wally.”

“Master Bruce?” Bruce let’s go of Wally’s shoulder as they both turn to look at who is there. Standing on the steps is Alfred, looking concerned. “Mister Kent is here to see you.”

“Clark?” Bruce’s heart spikes, anxiety clenching his chest tight. “What is he doing here?”

“He wouldn’t say, Sir, but he didn’t look happy.” With that, Alfred goes back up the stairs, leaving the two alone.

Bruce looks at Wally. “Wally, I’ll be right back.”

“But what about?” He motions to the computer.

“It won’t be done for another few more minutes. Once I’m done talking to Clark, I’ll come right back.” Wally visibly swallows but nods anyway. Bruce pats his shoulder and then makes his way up the stairs, one hand on his swollen stomach. He goes to where he can smell Clark and his anger. When he enters the room, his sense of smell is proven right when he sees Clark standing there, dressed in full Superman regalia and arms crossed angrily. Bruce hesitates but then gets a hold of himself and walks fully into the room with his head held high. “Clark, to what do I owe this pleasure?”

Clark’s lips pucker as he stands there, thinking and scrutinizing him. He tries not to wither under Clark’s gaze, standing up straight and meeting his eyes. Finally, Clark’s own eyes narrow and his lips pull back in a small snarl. “What the hell do you think you’re doing?”

“You’re going to have to be a bit more specific, Clark. There’s a lot of things I’m currently doing.”

“Don’t play dumb with me, Bruce,” Clark snaps, taking a step towards him. “I just got off the com-link with Oliver. He told me some interesting things.” Bruce crosses his own arms now, defiant and not backing down. “You’re going to have Oliver pretend to be the sire to my baby? Are you insane?”

“No.”

Clark uncurls his arms and points at him. “How dare you! I cannot believe you are actually planning on having the world think our baby is Oliver Queen.”

“He’s fine with it.”

Clark rolls his eyes. “Oh yeah, he seemed perfectly fine with it. Ecstatic even.”

This time Bruce rolls his eyes. “When did you get so sarcastic?” he mumbles.

“Since you decided that it was okay for Oliver to take my baby from me.”

“What?”

“I can’t believe you would actually do this to me when I thought you-“ he looks away, “and when I just figured out that I-”

Bruce furrows his brow. “What are you talking about? Oliver isn’t going to take our daughter from you.”

“Yes he is,” Clark insists, looking back at him again. “What do you think happens between two alphas when there is a baby involved? If Oliver claims the baby is his, then it’s just going to strengthen his want to be the baby’s father and kick me out of her life.”

“He wouldn’t do that, Clark. How many times do I have to tell you that?”

“I’ll listen when you become the alpha.” This shuts Bruce up, knowing he can’t fully know exactly what it feels like for Clark. “I’m not going to let you do this.”

“I have no choice Clark. The board directors are going to take my company from.”

Clark looks like he doesn’t believe him. “How? You have fifty-one percent of the holdings. They can’t.”

Bruce shrugs. “I never said they would do it legally. They’ll find a way Clark.”

“Then you bring them court.”

“How?” Bruce asks, exasperated. “How am I supposed to do that when I am an omega? A pregnant one at that. I’ll never win, no matter how influential I am.”

“But there has to be something else you can do besides locking Oliver into something he doesn’t want to do and having my baby taken from me.”

“And what do you suggest? Because I can’t tell them you’re the sire Clark.”

“Why the hell not?” Clark growls.

“Why do you think? Your face would be plastered all over the world and someone could recognize you as Superman. Not to mention the fact that you’re not famous Clark. If people found out that you are the sire to my baby both you and I would be mocked and torn down. I can handle it, I’m used to that shit. But you…” He motions towards Clark. “I don’t want you to have to go through that.”

“You should let me decide if I can handle that or not.”

“I don’t think you understand the extent of it, Clark. They wouldn’t just mock you, they would tear you down piece by piece. They would laugh at you and some might even stop reading your articles. Especially if they found out that you were mated and married at the time you got me pregnant. Hell, I would be the only thing keeping you from possibly getting fired, which is also has complications in itself since people will think I’m playing favorites.”

“But Bruce,” Clark steps closer to him, arms out in desperation. “You need to let me decide whether or not to go through that. You can’t keep trying to control mine or Oliver’s life. Please, Bruce.”

“I can’t Clark. I will not let you go through that. You’re my best friend and I don’t want you to get hurt.”

“You’re hurting me.” Bruce looks at him, Clark’s eyes glistening and desperate. “You’re hurting me, right now, by doing this. I would rather have the whole damn world mock me than lose my daughter, Bruce. Please… please, Bruce, don’t do this.”

“Clark-”

“I won’t let you. I’ll tell the whole damn world myself before I let you do this to me.” Clark shakes his head. “Gosh, Bruce, I thought…” He pauses, hesitating. “I thought you… you…” He doesn’t complete his sentence, instead wiping a hand down his face.

“Bruce?” a hesitant voice calls from the doorway. Both Clark and Bruce turn to look. Wally stands there, holding his own hand nervously. “Um… I think… um… the computer beeped and things popped up on it so…”

“I didn’t know Wally was here,” Clark says. “Are you okay Wally?”

Wally’s eyes widen and he looks between Bruce and Clark. “I’m, um, fine.”

“I’m helping him on a forensic case at the lab in Keystone. My computer is a lot more advance and can go through a lot more sources than the ones there.” Bruce explains, hoping Clark believes the lie.

Clark watches him. “Can it wait until we’re done here?”

Bruce looks at Wally and how nervous and anxious he looks. He turns back to Clark. “It’s kind of important.” He walks past Wally, motioning for him to follow. “Either way, Clark, I’m not changing my mind.” Before exiting the room, he looks back at the alpha. “This is the only way.”

“Bruce-” Bruce ignores him, heading to the cave. He doesn’t want to talk about that with Clark anymore, his mind already made up. Clark just doesn’t get how detrimental it would be for not only his secret identity but for his wellbeing if people were to know he was the sire. Bruce just can’t have that happen. Not to Clark.

Bruce sits down in his chair and views the results. He doesn’t like what he sees. “It says here that you will definitely burn through the anesthesia faster than non-speedsters.”

Wally speeds up behind him. “Meaning?”

“Meaning you’ll burn through it before the procedure has even started. In fact, by these calculations, you’ve been burning through your birth control faster than non-speedsters as well. It’s just pure luck you haven’t gotten pregnant until now.” When he turns to Wally, the omega is gaping, eyes wide and jaw hanging open. “You’re… lucky Dick wasn’t an alpha.”

Wally takes a deep breath and his mouth twists into horrified acknowledgement. He grabs handfuls of his hair and starts pacing again. “Oh no. Oh no, no, no, no. This can’t be happening. What am I going to do? Bruce, what am I going to do? Does this mean I’ll never be able to have sex with anyone anymore during my heats? What about getting an abortion? How am I going to do this?”

“Wally, stay calm.” Bruce grasps his shoulder, stilling him. “You can still get it. It just… will hurt.”

“I…” Wally looks panicked. “I don’t know. Bruce, I don’t know.”

“Why don’t you think about it. This obviously changes things. Sleep on it again, Wally.”

“I’ve been sleeping on it for too long already!” He pushes Bruce’s hand off him. “I can’t keep avoiding Dick and when I do see him, I know I’m not going to be able to keep it from him.”

“Wally, you need to have a calm and clear head when you make a decision of how to move forward. Just take a breath and calm down.” Wally does as he is told, closing his eyes and taking deep breaths. “Now, let’s go over things. You’ll burn through the anesthesia too fast but that doesn’t mean you can’t have it done.” Wally opens his eyes again. “However, it will be uncomfortable and painful most likely. That still doesn’t mean you can’t get it done. Then, of course, there’s still adoption as an option.”

“What would you do?” Wally asks him.

“It’s… not up to me.”

“But if it was. What would you do?”

Bruce stares at Wally, not knowing how to answer such a question. In the end, he decided to keep his baby. At this point, he can’t even imagine deciding to get rid of his daughter. The very thought makes him sick to his stomach and anxious. A small twinge of pain emanates from his stomach but doesn’t last long. Bruce places his hand on it. “I… honestly can’t tell you, Wally.” He shrugs. “I decided to keep my baby.” He gives Wally a sympathetic look. “Just go home and think about it, okay?”

Wally slumps and looks to the floor, nodding slowly. The speedster then turns away, starting to go up the stairs. Bruce is surprised to see Clark walking down them in the opposite direction. Bruce sits down, trying to ignore him and pretend he hadn’t noticed him coming. Clark comes and stands just behind him. “Can we talk?”

“I thought you had gone home.”

Clark shakes his head. “No such luck.”

Bruce sighs, resting his chin on the palm of his hand. “I don’t want to argue anymore, Clark.”

“That’s not what I’m here to talk about.” He shrugs. “Completely.” Bruce gestures to the chair beside him and Clark sits. “I’m sorry but I listened in on what you and Wally were doing. Never would have thought someone else was also in our predicament.”

“Father like son,” Bruce says dishearteningly.

Clark leans his arm on the desk, head against his fist. “They’ll figure it out.” He smiles. “Hopefully better than us.”

Bruce huffs a laugh. “Yeah, right.”

Clark, stares at him for a long while, his smile having turned contemplative yet warm. Bruce tries not to squirm. Suddenly and without warning, Clark blurts out, “I love you.”

Bruce’s heart stops and his brain feels like it short circuited. He doesn’t look at him as he feels himself stiffen. “What?”

“I mean, it took a while for me to figure it out, I’ll admit but, um, yeah, yeah, I definitely love you.” Clark’s smile grows wider as Bruce’s panic rises. “And you know what the best part is, Bruce?” Bruce doesn’t respond, his heart beating a mile a minute. “I think you love me too.”

Bruce forces a chuckle. “You’re crazy.”

“Am I?”

“Clark, it’s just-”

“Instincts?” Clark’s smile falls slightly and he lifts his head. “Do you really expect me to be stupid enough to believe that after everything? Hell, Bruce, you’re not that stupid either. Why are you telling yourself that? I’m pretty sure I left enough clues for the World’s Greatest Detective to figure it out.”

“And what, Clark? Say you are right and we love each other. What do you want? Be mates?”

Clark shrugs. “Why not?”

“A lot of reasons why not actually.”

“And let me guess, some of them are the same as why the world can’t know that I’m the sire to our baby.” Clark is starting to sound irritated and his arms cross.

“Yes Clark!” Clark rolls his eyes. “Not only are the things I’ve already mentioned still stand but the world still thinks your mated and married to Lois Lane. If they find out you impregnated me while mated to someone else, there will be hell to pay.”

“I don’t care.” Clark throws his hands out, exasperated. “I don’t care Bruce. Why can’t you let me decide how my own life goes? Why do you have this compulsion to control everyone’s lives; mine, Oliver’s. You have no right to make these decisions for us.”

“Because then I know the outcomes of things and no one gets hurt.”

“But we are getting hurt, Bruce, and not just me and Oliver but you too. Lying to yourself, not believing me when I tell you that I love you-”

“How can I Clark?” Bruce stands, one hand on his stomach where he feels a twinge of pain again. “Why suddenly now, huh? How am I supposed to believe you when you stayed with Lois after the first time we slept together? How am I supposed to believe you when you didn’t want people to know about the baby in the first place? Hell, you just barely told your parents and Kara, you didn’t tell Conner, and the Justice League still don’t know.”

“Me not wanting to tell them right away doesn’t matter when it comes to my feelings. You want the Justice League to know, then let’s tell them.” Clark stands as well now. “It has nothing to do with me or you loving each other.”

“Then answer the other question. Why now?”

“You of all people should know what it’s like to be in denial of feelings. I think… I think I’ve always loved you Bruce.” Bruce shakes his head. “Yes, Bruce, yes. When I think about it, I realize now that I’ve loved you for a long time. The only reason why I didn’t figure it out until now is because I, too, was in denial of my own feelings. I told myself I loved Lois and only her. That it was impossible to love someone else. But then you got kidnapped and we slept together again, Bruce, and it just… it opened my eyes Bruce, for the first time. That’s why I came by with those flowers. To tell you.”

“Then why didn’t you?” Bruce shifts his position, the pain in his stomach becoming uncomfortable.

“Because you hurt me. Just like you are trying to now. But last time, I gave up too easily. This time I’m not. I know you love me Bruce or else you wouldn’t have slept with me a second time.” He takes a step towards him but Bruce backs up. “Please, Bruce.”

“How do I know you’re not just saying all of this just to get me to admit to everyone that you are the sire to the baby?”

Clark gapes. “What? No, that’s not what I’m doing.”

“How do I know?” Bruce backs up again. “I’m not telling them about you Clark.”

Clark closes his eyes, looking more and more frustrated. “Listen, Bruce, that’s not why I’m telling you. I’m telling you because this whole situation has gotten out of hand and everyone is being hurt by it.”

Bruce shakes his head, a spike of sharp pain in his stomach. “No. I’ve got this under control and I’m telling the board the baby is Oliver’s.”

Clark’s face morphs from frustration to desperation. “No, Bruce, just listen to me.” He closes his eyes and takes a deep breath before opening them again. “Let’s handle one thing at a time.”

“I want you to leave.”

He shakes his head. “Bruce, please, please let’s just continue talking, okay? Just hear me out, please. Before you go and tell them. I need you to listen to me.”

“So you are telling me all this just to get me to not tell the board Oliver is the sire.”

“No, Bruce, it’s two separate issues. It’s just that one has a bit more priority since you’re probably going to tell them tomorrow, right?” Clark sighs. “Just think about what I said, okay? Don’t tell them Oliver is the sire. Please, Bruce.���

“My answer still stands Clark. I’m telling them.”

Clark’s face drops into despair and his mouth moves with unspoken words. He looks to the floor and then up Bruce’s body, eyes gaining a shiny sheen to them. “How can you do that?”

“Do what?”

“Hurt someone. Purposely hurt someone.” Bruce doesn’t say anything, rubbing the sore spot on his stomach. He thinks he needs to lie down. “Even if I’m wrong about you loving me, I’m still your best friend, and you are purposely hurting me by willingly telling people that someone else is the sire to our baby. How can you do that?” Clark bites his bottom lip. “How can you do that to someone you care about?” When Bruce doesn’t respond, Clark takes a deep breath and runs a hand down his face. He meets Bruce’s eyes. “Like I said, Bruce, I’m not going to let you do this to me… or Oliver. I’ll tell the whole damn world myself before you do.”

“And who do you think they’ll believe?” Bruce asks, self-hatred filling his gut but knowing this must be done. “You or me? You could be some random alpha wanting credit for a high-profile baby.” He shrugs. “I’m an omega.”

The sheer hurt in Clark’s eyes makes Bruce feel guilty. He looks away from the alpha, not being able to hold contact anymore. “Wow, Bruce Wayne taking advantage of his caste. That’s something I never thought I’d see.” Clark backs up a few paces. “I don’t care, Bruce, I’m not letting you do this.” He lifts off the ground and starts flying away. He stops mid-flight, however, turning slightly to address Bruce one last time. “I really do love you Bruce. I wasn’t lying.” He then flies away, leaving Bruce alone in the cave.

Bruce rubs his stomach and the pain there spikes. He rubs it, taking deep breaths. “It’s okay, Baby, everything is okay. I’ve got everything under control.”

He takes one last deep breath, shuts the computer down, and then heads back into the Manor. He doesn’t even make it past the threshold of the Grandfather Clock before Dick is stomping up to him, the scent of anger pouring off him in waves, and an anxiously worried Wally trailing behind him. “Dick, please! Just listen to me.”

Dick doesn’t listen and when he reaches Bruce, he punches him hard on the jaw. Bruce grabs a hold of the door casing, stopping himself from stumbling backwards and down the flight of stairs leading back into the cave. “How dare you!”

“Dick, stop!” Wally shouts, grabbing a hold of Dick’s arms. “He could have fallen down the damn stairs!”

Dick doesn’t seem to hear him, his anger blinding him to everyone except Bruce. “You knew, you bastard, and didn’t tell me!”

Bruce rubs his jaw and tries to ignore the fact that if he hadn’t caught himself, he would have fallen down the stairs, killing him or his baby. Since Wally is also here, Bruce guesses that Dick is angry at him for not telling him about Wally’s pregnancy. “It wasn’t my place to tell.”

“To hell it wasn’t!” Dick pulls his lips back and growls. Bruce feels their bond slipping even more. “That baby is mine and you should have told me. We’re family, Bruce, and family doesn’t keep such a thing from each other.” He scoffs. “But why am I so surprised? You did the same damn thing with Clark and look where that got you two.”

Wally pulls on his arm. “Dick, I asked him not to tell you. It’s not his fault.”

“Of course it’s his fault,” Dick snarls. “It’s always his fault. He tries to control things and manipulate people. It’s what he does. This is no different. He’s trying to control yours and my situation just like he is trying to do so with his. But he’s too fucking blind to see that everything is crumbling around him.” He pokes Bruce’s chest. “You should have told me instead of lying to me and trying to control this too. You don’t need to make my life fail just because yours is.”

“Hey!” Wally steps in between them. “That’s uncalled for. It was my idea, Dick. I didn’t want anyone to know.”

Dick looks past Wally, glaring death at Bruce. “That’s what he wants you to think.”

“No!” Wally yells. “No it’s not. I came to him for help and he helped. If you want to be mad at anyone be mad at me. I’m the one who didn’t tell you, I’m the one who lied about what I was doing. Don’t be mad at Bruce just because he did what I asked.”

Dick grinds his teeth together then abruptly turns away, stalking out of the room. “Fuck you! Fuck you both!”

When he’s gone, Wally’s shoulders immediately slump. He turns to Bruce. “Are you okay?”

Bruce looks behind himself and at the stairs. Quickly, he steps out of the entry way and shuts the Grandfather Clock. He takes a deep breath. “I’m fine.”

“I’m really sorry, Bruce. He must have come home at some point when we were talking and I ran into him, quite literally actually, in the kitchen and he could tell something was wrong and I didn’t know what to say and so I kind of blurted out what was going on and he got so mad and I tried to stop him but he wouldn’t listen to me and I don’t know how he knew you were in the basement and-”

“Wally,” Bruce says, cutting Wally’s rambling run on sentence off. “It’s okay.”

“No it’s not.” Wally looks panicked. “I didn’t want him to know, Bruce. I wanted to get the abortion, stop whatever was going on between me and Dick, and for him to be none the wiser. I never wanted him to find out and now he does and I don’t know what to do. He’s going to want to talk about it, I know he will, once he calms down. What if he tries forcing me to keep it? I don’t want it, Bruce. Especially if Dick is still with Kori because then the baby will just remind me of that and oh gosh, I don’t want to lose my best friend. I love him, Bruce, and I can’t-”

Bruce places a hand on Wally’s shoulder. “Deep breaths, Wally.” Wally nods in super speed and then begins taking deep, calming breaths. “That’s it.” When he’s finally calmed, the speedster slumps even more. “You look exhausted. You go home-” Wally is shaking his head before Bruce even finishes “-and let me take care of it. Okay? I’ll talk to Dick.” He looks beyond Wally and at the door Dick had left through. “He might not talk to me tonight but tomorrow, okay? Remember, you don’t have to go through this alone.”

Wally nods again and then suddenly barrels into Bruce, hugging him tight and purring. Bruce begins purring as well, wrapping hesitant arms around the omega. When Wally pulls away, he says, “Thank you Bruce.” Then, in a burst of speed, he’s gone.

*~~~*

That night, Bruce sits down on his bed heavily. He hasn’t heard from Clark and he was right when he assumed Dick didn’t want to talk to him. He can feel their bond has broken completely now and it leaves his chest heavy. He rubs a hand over his stomach where the dull ache has persisted. You don’t need to make my life fail just because yours is. Dick had been right in a way. Everything seems to be crumbling around him ever since his kidnapping. His company, Oliver, Clark, and now Dick. A spike of panic rises in his chest but he quickly squashes it, biting his tongue as a sharp pain emenates in his stomach. He rubs again.

I really do love you Bruce. I wasn’t lying. What was Clark thinking, telling him such a thing? Was he mocking him? Was he just trying to get Bruce to not tell anyone that Oliver is the Sire? Was he trying to trick him? “Ow,” he groans as another sharp pain shoots through his stomach. He tries to breath evenly and calm, squeezing his eyes shut. The pain keeps coming, however, and nothing he tries stops it.

He slowly gets up off the bed, one hand on his stomach, and exits the room. “Alfred?” He levers himself against the wall with one hand, bending over as another wave of pain goes through him. “Alfred?” Panic rises in his chest and he slowly slides to the floor, knees drawing close to his chest as the pain intensifies. “Clark?” he says desperately, feeling tears pooling in his eyes and his heart pounding a mile a minute. “Kal?”

Clark is suddenly kneeling in front of him, one hand on his knee and the other on his shoulder. “Bruce? What’s wrong?”

“I-I don’t know. It hurts.”

Alarm morphs onto Clark’s face and his eyes grow wide. “Okay, I’m going to bring you to the hospital.”

“No, I just want you to check. Please, just check.”

“I don’t know what I’d be looking for,” Clark says, his own panic visibly rising. Bruce opens his mouth to respond but instead a low groan comes out as another wave of pain sparks in his stomach. “Okay, that’s it. I don’t care what you want. You’re going to the hospital.” Clark lifts him and in only a few minutes, they are standing outside of Gotham general. He carries him inside and, the man at the counter immediately recognizing Bruce, calls someone to help. They run a few tests on him and the doctor gives him a glass of water that makes him feel a little better. Clark waits anxiously beside him the whole time.

Soon, once all the tests are done, the doctor comes in to talk to them. “Good evening Mister Wayne.” He’s looking at some papers. “Good news, there is nothing wrong with your baby.” Both he and Clark sigh loudly. “I believe you were just having Braxton Hick contractions which is perfectly normal in a pregnancy.”

“What?” Clark asks, confused.

“I think I read about those. They aren’t supposed to be this painful,” Bruce says.

“Have you been under a lot of stress lately?”

Bruce eyes Clark and then looks back at the doctor. “I’m normally good at managing my stress.”

“Managing or not managing doesn’t matter, Mister Wayne. Stress is stress and can cause the cramping to be more painful than usual. The good thing is, is that you have nothing to worry about. Your baby is perfectly fine.” He signs off on a paper. “I’ll be releasing you now since it doesn’t make sense to keep you here. I’m sure you would be more comfortable at home anyways.” He smiles. “Just try to keep the stress level down.” When he leaves, he nods at both Bruce and Clark.

Clark is leaning forward, elbows on his keens and his hands grasped together. His eyes are downcast. “Are you okay?” Bruce asks him.

Clark looks up, worry evident in his eyes. “I was scared. I thought you were losing the baby.”

Bruce nods and starts getting out of the bed. He’s feeling a little better now though the tightness in his stomach is still there. “Me too.” He shrugs. “I’m sorry for overreacting.”

Clark stands as well. “Better that than not and have something actually happen.”

Bruce doesn’t comment on this, feeling exhaustion take over his body. He motions for Clark to follow. “Let’s go. And Clark, try to be a bit stealthier. You’ll be lucky if no one saw you flying here and landing in front of a damn hospital.” Clark’s cheeks turn red and he rubs at the back of his neck. It’s adorable and what Clark had said earlier in the day comes rushing back to Bruce’s mind. I really do love you Bruce. I wasn’t lying.

Clark wastes no time in getting back to the Manor and depositing Bruce in his room where Bruce then sits on the edge of his bed. Bruce should wake up at least Alfred to let him know what had just happened but figures since it’s nothing serious, it can wait until morning. “I guess I’ll get going now.”

“Clark,” Bruce says, stopping him. “I’m sorry.” Clark’s head tilts in question. “I don’t know if I can believe you that you love me.” When Clark opens his mouth to comment, Bruce stops him with a wave. “Let me talk, please.” Clark’s mouth shuts. “I don’t know if I can believe you because it’s just all so sudden. I have…” he swallows, forcing himself to look Clark in the eyes. “I have loved you for years, Clark. Years. I have watched you be in love with Lois for so long that I have a hard time accepting that you can love someone like me. Yes, there are recent signs that I will admit to that point to you loving me but before those… there was none, Clark. Absolutely none and I looked. I looked for them for years before finally giving up. And then you come today and tell me that you’ve finally figured out that you have loved me all along. It doesn’t add up, Clark. It doesn’t make sense. I’m not… I’m not a good person, Clark, not like Lois and that’s why you love her and not me. How can you say that you have loved me for so long when you love Lois and she is so much better than me?”

By now, Clark’s face has softened and he walks up to Bruce. He kneels in front of him. “Bruce, you are a good person.” Bruce shakes his head and Clark grabs a hold of his hand. “Yes you are. You are one of the best people I know. You care so much about this world and your family. You would do anything for them. You would die for them, Bruce. Not many people would do that. And it’s not just as Batman. You do a lot of good as Bruce as well. The charities that you run, donating millions of dollars to people and organizations that need it.” Clark reaches up and places a hand over Bruce’s heart. “And only good people would do that, Bruce. It’s no wonder I love you. Because all I see, is the good in you and in what you do.”

“But Lois…”

Clark smiles softly at him. “I love Lois too, Bruce, I won’t deny that and at one point I did want to spend the rest of my life with her but that was before I stopped being blind to the one person who I love more.” He pats Bruce’s chest. “You, Bruce. I love you so much more than her that I’m surprised I didn’t figure it out sooner. I convinced myself that I was only allowed to love one person and one person only. I met Lois long before I met you. I fell in love with her before I fell in love with you. So, I thought she was it. But then, Bruce, at some point I fell in love with you even more and I just didn’t want to see it. But I do now.” He brings Bruce’s hand up to his mouth and presses a soft kiss to his knuckles. “I do. You have to believe me.”

Bruce’s heart is pounding rapidly in his chest and he isn’t sure what to believe anymore. He looks at Clark, on his knees and desperately trying to get Bruce to believe him, he thinks of Clark’s relationship with Lois, and he thinks about his fake relationship with Oliver. He loves Clark. He loves him with all his heart but he doesn’t want to get to hurt. Like he was hurt when his parents died, when Jason died, and now with his bond breaking with Dick. He doesn’t want that to happen with Clark too. “I don’t know.”

“Listen to me.” Clark’s hand tightens on Bruce’s. “Listen, if I wasn’t serious about this, I wouldn’t have signed the divorce papers. I would have continued to try and save my relationship with Lois. I wouldn’t have slept with you that second time. Heck, I probably wouldn’t have slept with you the first time because let’s be real Bruce, that was more than just instinct for the both of us.” He takes a hold of Bruce’s hand with both of his now. “I want to be with you, Bruce, wholeheartedly.”

Bruce swallows and licks his lips. “I don’t know if I can.”

“Why?”

“I don’t-” He licks his lips again, looking away from the alpha. “I don’t know if I’m ready.”

“Then we take it slow. Bruce, I’m not saying we will jump into a relationship right away. I’m still your best friend and no matter what I’ll still be there for you. I just don’t want a possible relationship between us to be completely off the tables.”

“What about my company?”

“I already told you.”

Bruce shakes his head. “No, I won’t tell them it’s you.” Clark rolls his eyes. “I won’t Clark. I refuse to do that to you.”

“Why won’t you just let me decide?”

“Because I don’t want you getting hurt. I want to protect you.”

Clark shrugs. “I don’t need protecting. Isn’t that what you always say?”

Bruce looks to the floor, squeezing Clark’s hand. “I don’t want to be the reason why you get hurt. I’d rather my company be taken away from me.”

Clark is silent for a long while but eventually he says, “Then we’ll figure it out. We always do. World’s Finest, right?” Bruce huffs a small laugh, smiling slightly. “In the meantime, what do you say about taking it slow? We’ll start as best friends and see where it takes us.”

Bruce finally looks up and into Clark’s eyes. He hesitates, his self-doubt still floating around in his head. Eventually, however, he nods his head slowly, biting his bottom lip. “Okay, Clark.” Clark’s eyes light up and warm smile plays at the corners of his lips. Bruce squeezes his hand again. “Okay.”

A/N: Thanks for reading!!