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#my drawing speed gets too high and i rush stuff very bad habit
hubr1s69 · 4 years
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cropped repost, damn i rlly gotta work on buildings huh
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yeenybeanies · 5 years
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g/t prompt list
6. catch
clark kent / superman & borrower!reader ( 3rd person pov ).
 2848 words
mild language warning
i wanted to keep going with this, but i got tired of looking at it lol 
please keep comments to the tags!! thank you!! 
There’s a scream. Clark jolts up in his seat, knee banging against the underside of his desk hard. He mutters a few almost-curses under his breath, picking up the ( thankfully already empty ) mug he’d knocked over and collecting anything else he’d disturbed. Had he imagined that scream? It sounded so real, so–––
“ You alright over there, Smallville? ”  He glances up to see a familiar face peering over into his cubicle, her features twisted in mild confusion. Apparently his little jolt disturbed more than just his desk items . . .. 
“ Uh. Yeah. Yeah, sorry, Lois, I––– ”  Clark pushes his glasses further up onto his face and stands, dusting himself off.  “ Y’know when you’re, uh, about to fall asleep and you suddenly feel like you’re falling? Apparently I’m more tired than I thought, so––– ” 
“ No no no no–––! ”  There’s the voice again––the same voice that just screamed. It sounds . . . distressed. Clark hones in on it a moment, forgetting that he was in the middle of a sentence until Lois pulls him back. 
“ Hell–ooo, Clark? ”  Now her confusion isn’t so mild. Clark’s attention snaps back to Lois, his eyes wide. 
“ Hunh? Sorry. I think I just––I think I need some more coffee. I’m fine. Sorry to bother you. ”  Now he knows where the voice is coming from. He can hear it still. It’s strange––bizarre, even. It’s so quiet; logic dictates it would be far away with that kind of volume, but it isn’t. Lois doesn’t seem too satisfied with his explanation, but Clark excuses himself nonetheless. Thankfully, the voice seems to be coming from the break room, which gives his would-be coffee break some merit.
What could it possibly be? As he approaches the break room, Clark focuses his senses, and utilizes his x-ray vision, peering through the walls. Nothing seems too out of the ordinary–––
What the hell? Dangling from an ajar cabinet door, there seems to be a tiny . . . person. There’s no way that’s right. His mind must be playing games, or he’s just seeing things, mistaking them for little people, or––or–––
No, that yelp sounds very real. Clark walks a bit faster, his anxiety rising. The little being obviously needs help. They look like they’re about to fall! He sucks in a breath, forcing himself not to move too quickly, as not to draw attention, all while trying to get to the room to help in time. He damn-near dents the doorknob as he twists it, pushing the door open. Clear as day, nothing but air to block his view, he sees them: a very tiny, yet utterly unmistakable person. And they see him. Now that all his focus is on them, he can hear a little heartbeat within their chest, buzzing away. Never before has he seen anything like this; it actually has him a little taken aback, confused. 
Once more, though, Clark is yanked back to reality. The being’s grip––what’s left of it––slips from the wood. Their sharp, terrified yelp hits his ears, and Clark rushes forward, hands outstretched. He closes the space between them in the blink of an eye, catching them after only a couple-inches fall. The weight now in his hands is so small, so light, that he isn’t sure he would notice it were he not looking right at the little being. 
“ Are you okay . . .? ”  He keeps his voice low, and his hands steady. What he isn’t prepared, for, though, is the being’s shrill scream of terror once they realize that they’ve been caught. They try to scoot away from him, forcing Clark to close his hands around them, trapping them in the darkness between his palms. 
“ Woah––hey! ”  Tiny fists and feet bang against his skin harmlessly. Clark feels bad, but he doesn’t want them to fall again and hurt themselves, so he keeps his hands closed.  “ Please, I’m not going to hurt you. I just––– ” 
There are footsteps approaching. Clark glances over his shoulder, unsure of what to do. It’s Lois. Notoriously tenacious Lois Lane is headed his way––their way. 
“ Someone’s coming, ”  he whispers, looking around for somewhere to put the little being. Eyes settle on his breast pocket. They’re small enough to fit in there unnoticed, provided they don’t squirm so much.  “ I need you to stay still and trust me. ”  He curls the fingers of his lower hand around them, much to their protest, and lifts them up to his pocket. They don’t make things easy for him, but he manages to stuff them in just as the doorknob turns. 
“ Clark? ”  Her inquisitive tone makes the man freeze. The little one seems to freeze too, going dead still in his pocket ( save for their shaking ). Their poor heart is just zooming. After a tense moment, Clark turns around, forcing a sheepish smile. 
“ Lois! Hi. Hey, uh––– ”  oh boy, he needs an excuse ASAP. He glances around discretely, looking for something, anything.  “ Coffee tasted funny. I was going to make a new pot. ”  
Bad excuse. 
One dark brow raises on Lois’ face.  “ You’re a terrible liar, Clark. ” 
She’s right. He is. The little being tenses further in his pocket as he searches desperately for a way out. 
“ I . . .––I’m sorry, Lois. ”  He bows his head a little, unhappy that he even has to lie about what’s really going on ( though it’s not the only thing he’s keeping from her ).  “ I’m just . . . I’m not feeling well. I think I’m gonna head home, finish my work there. ” 
It’s better, but still not great. Lois stares at him for a moment longer, leaving Clark to believe that she’s going to call bullshit again, but she doesn’t. ( Thank God. ) She sighs, clearly unhappy, clearly not done with whatever this is.
“ Go on. I’ll talk to you later, Smallville. ”  She steps aside, arms crossed over her chest. 
“ Er––yeah. Right. Of course. ”  Swallowing his guilt, he puts on a slightly brighter smile, truly appreciative of Lois’ cooperation. He hurries past her, and calls back over his shoulder,  “ I’ll have the article ready tonight! ” 
Perry wasn’t too pleased with Clark’s sudden speeding out, but it’s not exactly anything new. Clark has always had a habit of disappearing unexpectedly. But now that he’s out of the building, onto the Metropolis sidewalks, Clark finds himself at a loss for what to do. The little one still hides within his breast pocket, their shaking stopped for now, but their body still very tense. He already feels bad enough for scaring them; kidnapping them doesn’t seem like it would smooth things out. 
Pace brisk, Clark walks along the sidewalk, taking careful measures to keep his gait as smooth as possible for his passenger. He ducks into a nearby alleyway, out of sight of anyone that might be passing by. 
“ Would you like to come out now? ”  
Their tiny body curls in now that his attention is back on them. Clark sighs softly. He’s prepared to wait, let them move at their own pace. He can only imagine what they’re feeling right now. 
Luckily, though, they don’t make him wait long. They shift and squirm in his pocket, eventually pulling themselves up, their head and tiny, tiny hands poking out over the fabric rim. Clark listens to their heart rate spike when they look down at what, to them, amounts to a very high fall, and then back up to his comparatively massive face. It’s a very stark reminder that they are, in fact, on Clark’s person. He smiles, hoping to ease some of their fear, but the success is questionable. 
“ Sorry, I . . . don’t mean to scare you. Didn’t mean to, er, take you, either, but you didn’t seem like you really wanted to be seen . . .. ”  How does one apologize for kidnapping? Clark glances away, awkward.  “ Anyways, uh, hi, I’m Clark. Do you have a name? ” 
They stare up at him, silent. 
“ . . . okay. Well, I can take you somewhere, if you’d like . . .. Anywhere, really. ” 
Once more, they look down at the ground far below. Clark brings his hand up to the pocket, offering to let them out, but they duck back down with a startled yelp. He feels a guilty pang in his heart. 
“ Hey, I promise I’m not going to hurt you. ”  But his hand falls away nonetheless, and they pop back up again, slowly but surely. 
“ You . . . hid me from the other bean . . . ”  Their voice is so soft, so tiny ( fitting for them ). Clark almost thinks that anyone without super hearing wouldn’t be able to hear them. 
“ Yeah, well––wait, ‘ bean ’? ” 
“ Human bean. ‘ Lois.’ “ 
Ah. Human being.  “ Bean. ”  That’s kinda cute. 
“ Right. Yeah––I just . . . I dunno, you seemed terrified enough with me; I didn’t think you’d take too well to meeting another, er,  ‘ bean.’ ”  He shrugs the shoulder opposite the little one.  “ I take it you don’t really . . . interact with us very often. ” 
“ Borrowers avoid being seen. It keeps us safe. Beans can be very . . . cruel to us. ”  Their tiny body shudders, which makes Clark suspect that they’ve got some first-hand experience. He doesn’t want to think about what kind of  “ cruel ”  things people have done. 
“ Well . . . ”  He assumes that  “ borrower ”  is what they call themselves.  “ I’m sorry to hear that. Tell you what: for as long as you’re with me, I’ll keep you hidden. ”  He offers what he hopes to be a reassuring smile. To his delight, he does feel the borrower release some of that tension. 
“ I . . . live in that building where you found me . . . ” 
“ In the break room? ” 
They nod. 
“ Do . . . you want me to take you back? ”  That would be awkward, walking back into the Daily Planet just minutes after leaving. He could probably make the excuse that he forgot something . . ..
“ N–no, it’s . . . it would be weird for you to go back when you’re  ‘ not feeling well. ’ ”  
Yeah, they get it. Clark sighs and looks back to the street beyond the alley. He doesn’t want to just take them home with him if they don’t want to come . . .. 
“ If you, um–– . . . you could, uh, put me down here, and I––you could put me down and I could get back on my own. ” 
His attention snaps back to them, making them flinch at the sudden movement. There was a fair amount of fear not just in their voice, but in their heart. They didn’t like the idea, and neither did Clark. What if they got stepped on, or caught by an animal, or–––
“ You don’t have to do that. I don’t want you to do that. If you’re––if you’re okay with it, you could come home with me, and I’ll bring you back tomorrow. ” 
He can tell that they don’t care for that idea either. 
“ And if I’m . . . not okay with that . . .? ”  There’s a slight quiver in their voice, like they’re fearful of retribution. 
“ Then . . . I guess I could stay here. Or somewhere else hidden. ”  Not ideal, but he’s done worse. The borrower squirms, twisting in his pocket to better face him. They look quizzical––stunned, even.
“ Y–you’d . . . do that? ” 
“ Sure. Well––maybe we could move to a library or a coffee shop so I can work, but . . . I won’t take you anywhere you don’t want to go. ” 
They fall silent, looking thoughtful. Clark is patient, letting them think and ponder their options. His eyes wander away from them, to the alley, and to the things beyond the alley. There’s someone walking a dog the next street over, some alley cats fighting a ways down . . .––geez, he really doesn’t want to leave the borrower here if there are cats around. 
“ I’ll . . . I’ll come with you to your home, ”  comes the little voice once more. Clark looks down, his eyes softening. 
“ You sure? ”  
They sink back into his pocket, hiding away for the journey.  “ Yeah. ” 
Alright then. Clark waits until they’re settled, then heads back out of the alley. 
As it turns out, having a borrower in the house is actually quite stressful. Clark had anticipated a transition period for himself and his new companion, but, upon releasing the little being onto his kitchen counter, he quickly realizes that he is the only one in need of adjusting. They seem perfectly at home, rushing off towards the wall to climb something he hadn’t even thought to be climbable ( much to Clark’s fright ). Immediately he has to fight back the urge to grab them again, scoop them up and protect them. They scale the wall expertly, jump up onto appliances, clearly at home. His fingers twitch. 
“ Right then . . .. So you clearly don’t need my help getting around . . .. How long have you been living at the Daily Planet? ”  
The little one pauses, seemingly a little startled, as if they’d forgotten that he was right there. Based on their current path, Clark assumes they were heading for the top of the fridge, where he keeps some cereals and fruits. 
“ Uh . . . a few months. ”  From how their voice lifts, it sounds more like a question, like there could be a wrong answer. 
“ Really? How have you been there that long and not–––hey! ” 
He extends his hands under the borrower, but they sail right over, high and far enough to catch the edge of the fridge. They struggle for a moment to regain footing on the smooth side, then pull themselves up on top, looking pleased. Now Clark’s starting to get an idea of how they ended up in their earlier predicament . . .. 
“ Clark . . .? ” 
He snaps from his momentary shock, eyes wide as they settle on the borrower. 
“ Sorry, you just––do you do that often? ”  
“ What? Jump? ”  They regard him with a quizzical look.  “ Yeah. I’m not as tall as you beans, so I kinda have to jump. ” 
Of course. Makes sense. Clark hides his hands behind his back, feeling a little foolish. It’s second-nature for him to be protective, especially of the helpless. ( Then again, the borrower doesn’t seem too helpless. ) How should he offer help without seeming condescending? 
“ Okay. Well . . . you know I can . . . get whatever you need for you, right? ”  It sounded better in Clark’s head. He grimaces.  “ Not––not that you really need me too, but . . .. ”  There really is no way to make that sound good out loud, is there? 
“ I’ll keep that in mind. ”  Soft footsteps scurry over to the bunch of bananas, where the little being starts tugging at the peel. Clark has to stifle the urge to reach up and help them with it. 
This . . . is going to be an interesting night. He’s going to have to be extra careful, extra aware of everything if he’s to avoid accidentally harming his house guest. 
“ So, uh . . . you never told me your name. You do have one, right? ”  
The borrower pulls their head from the fruit, oblivious to little bits of banana stuck in their hair. They finish their chew and swallow, then answer:  “ It’s [ Y/N ]. ”  Then it’s back into the banana for them. Clark suspects they don’t get much access to fresh fruit in the break room. Maybe he should start bringing some fruit . . .. 
“ Right. Okay, [ Y/N ]. I’m gonna set up at the table to work. Just shout if you need me, okay? ” 
They’re preoccupied with the banana, but they do shoot him a tiny thumbs up. Interesting. Clark smiles to himself, and heads off to do as he said. Perry’s going to be pissed if Clark doesn’t deliver like he promised. Still, he can’t help but glance over fairly often, checking up on the borrower to make sure they’re safe. 
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