#I don’t talk like a normal person and I hate myself for it like why can’t I hold a proper conversation or be interesting to talk to why am I | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

a-pute11as · 2 months ago

Text

stubborn

r has a hidden relationship with one of the team physios, but texts from an unknown number reveal she's being used and alexia isn't happy about it.

warnings - 18+ MDNI suggestive smut themes, stalker texts, angst

words - 2996

part 2

my phone pinged.

unknown number : she’s taking advantage of you, she’s done this with other people and she knows you’ll say good things about her to other staff so she’ll keep her job

i furrowed my eyebrows, surely this wasn’t a text for me? the number wasn’t saved in my phone and i had no texts from them before.

me : i think you may have the wrong number

i shut my phone off without thinking about it much after that, i knew it wasn’t for me but i very much felt sorry for the person it was intended for.

i pushed myself up off the sofa to get myself ready for the evening training session, as nice as it was to train when it wasn’t as scorching hot, though i still preferred morning sessions. i stepped into my bathroom, standing in front of the mirror to slick my hair back into a ponytail, doing the same hairstyle i did most days. all of a sudden a pair of arms wrapped around my waist as i began brushing my hair, causing me to smile at the contact.

“we could do this every morning” she whispered before placing a peck on my neck, instantly having a calming effect on me, though it didn’t last long, “if you changed clubs”.

my face dropped and my body tensed up, she knew how much i hated this conversation and yet she never saw how ridiculous it was to ask me to leave a club like barcelona just for a casual fling to become something more.

“mhm” i couldn’t say anything more, no matter how many times i tried, she would never actually listen to the words that were leaving my mouth. i was constantly fighting a losing battle.

“don’t be like that” she said, dropping her arms from me and stepping back. “this is my job just as much as it is yours, why should i risk my career so you can play football for another year at the ‘best club in the world’ before you go back to a half decent club”, her argument was stupid, but the audacity to use air quotes when referring to barcelona as the best club in the world stung. since we met i would always talk about how playing for barca was my dream, and how excited i was to be living that everyday, she knew exactly what this club meant to me.

she leant against the bathroom door, staring me down, waiting for me to fight back and challenge the hurtful words she spewed at me, but she made it clear that she didn’t respect me and i was getting tired trying to gain a half-arsed apology from a person like her.

“ana” i took a deep breath “if that’s how you feel then that’s okay, but i won’t be looking for a transfer just to please you” i sighed, continuing to put my hair back, “you know what this means to me”.

she rolled her eyes, “im not doing this, it’s always about what it means to YOU and never to us” she dramatically flung her arms in the air but i knew to stay quiet to avoid the same fight repeating itself. “you’re going to put me in a bad mood for work again, and don’t you dare think about going to isabel for a massage during recovery” with that she picked up her bag and left for work.

peace and quiet, finally.

i finished getting ready before grabbing my bag and heading down to my car, normally i’d go to training with keira, but she’d been out all morning so i assumed i’d be meeting her there. as i sat in my car i checked my phone, assuming it would just be a couple of texts i wouldn’t need to pay any mind to.

unknown number : this is y/n, isn’t it?

me : yes? why?

unknown number : i know you’re with ana, she’s taking advantage of you. you aren’t the only person she’s with and she’s done this with multiple girls before you

my eyes widened.

me : who is this? how do you know this?

unknown number : i’ve been watching you, ive seen you leaving training together. i hate the way she looks at you and the way she touches you during recovery, it makes me sick.

i know she doesn’t give you what you deserve. i wouldn’t keep you hidden like this.

i could give you so much more, i’d never hurt your pretty heart like this.

i sat in my car, not wanting to move, i couldn’t care less about it being Ana or that i was receiving slightly stalker-like but somewhat hot texts from a random person, but i did care that i’d been used for someone else’s advantage. i knew i couldn’t let it go on any longer, not just so it would benefit her career and ruin mine. i swiped onto ana and i’s messages.

me : i’ll talk to you after work but we aren’t doing this anymore

ana : don’t be like that, it was just a silly argument this morning, i’ll talk to you at work

me : can you read? i said after work. we aren’t doing this anymore, find someone else.

i closed my phone and blasted music as i drove, assuming it would help re-centre my focus before i got to training, i couldn’t have something like this affect my performance. as i pulled into the car park i took a minute to collect my thoughts, somehow i had to remain professional but how could i when all that was swirling around my mind was finding out i was being fucked over and stalked in the same day.

i finally got out of my car, grabbing my stuff as i headed towards the door.

“alanna! stop ignoring my texts” i heard a small shout from behind me, i knew it was ana but i wasn’t about to give her the time of day.

“what’s that about?” cata asked, standing at the door, clearly waiting for me to catch up to her.

“we were sleeping together, not anymore though” i said blatantly, i had mentioned i was seeing someone but i never gave any more details than that, the only person who knew the true picture was keira but that was only because we lived together.

“woah, i didn’t expect that” cata said, standing still for a moment, assumingly trying to process the information, as i continued to walk to the locker rooms. she quickly caught up to me and wrapped her arm around my shoulder, “im here if you want to talk about it, but not if you wanna test out your advanced spanish, thats way too painful” she added, with a small laugh, causing me to laugh too.

we walked into the changing room, which was already filled with our fellow teammates, i quickly greeted them before heading to my cubby to put my stuff down, giving myself a minute to sit down and check my phone.

unknown number : you look so good today. dios mios the things i’d do to you…

i quickly looked around the room to see if anyone was on their phone, no one was, all the girls were engaged in conversations with each other or had already left to go to the training pitch. i put my head in my hands for a minute, my attempts to refocus had failed. i wanted to wait until i was the last one in there, either so i could scream or cry, with no one else around.

“habla con ella ale, tu eres la capitana” cata mumbled, trying to be quiet enough that i wouldn’t hear, but she was never very good at being quiet.

“no quiero hacerla sentir peor” alexia mumbled back “nosotras no estamos tan cerca después del incidente” she added.

the ‘incident’ was a very drunk champions league after party, which ended with alexia and i finding our way to the club bathroom to make out. we somehow made it back to her flat together, and whilst we didn’t sleep together, we certainly got close to, so close that we woke up naked. i didn’t regret anything about that night, not the drunken flirting, the incredibly close dancing or the bathroom make out session, i didn’t even regret making it back to her flat and taking off each other's clothes before we passed out. i regretted how i dealt with the situation, but i knew alexia held that same guilt too.

they continued mumbling between themselves as i reached for my phone to text this unknown person.

me : can you send me some kind of proof? for some reason i believe you, i just want to see it with my own eyes

moments after i hit sent, a phone within the locker room pinged. alexia’s phone. i didn’t think anything of it, she was one of the biggest names in women’s football, her phone was constantly going off.

as i put my phone back into my bag i noticed cata had left, leaving just me and alexia alone in the locker room. she was stood in front of me, maybe 6 feet away, one hand rubbing the back of her neck as her eyes darted about the room, making me realise just how awkward the situation was. then the realisation hit, this was the first time we had been alone in a room together since the incident, at least we were fully clothed.

“ale, you don’t have to do this” i said, standing up so there wouldn’t be the awkward tension that happens when someone is looking down on you.

“i’m your captain, i should be here for you if you need someone to talk to” alexia said, meeting my eyes.

whilst things had been awkward between us for the last couple of months, we actually hadn’t seen each other much, i was back home, playing a couple of games for england but ale was representing spain in the olympics, so we never really got the chance to talk about things.

“it’s just something personal, honestly it means nothing, you don’t have to worry about me capi, i’ll be focused” i awkwardly shuffled the bracelet around my wrist and forced a smile.

“i’m not worried about you being focused nena, y/n im worried about you being okay”

my name rolled off her tongue like it was made for her to say, so perfect and effortless as if english wasn’t her second language yet it was like hearing an angel. she never really knew the soft spot i had for her. before that night, we were close, of course people thought we were together and some of the girls would joke about it, but in reality we just enjoyed each other’s companies. she made me a better person and i challenged her in every aspect, especially when it came to who could cook a better paella. it was always her, but i enjoyed teasing her about it.

“someone i trusted was using me, that’s all, it was nothing serious but it just hurt so i’m in a bit of a shit mood, so if you’ll excuse me i’m going to train” i said, adjusting my socks as i headed towards the door.

but all it took was one very quick, and smooth, movement from alexia for her to be standing in front of the door.

“who” she asked so simply yet her eyes had shifted, they seemed darker, the eye contact she held was so intense yet i couldn’t escape it.

“you wouldn’t know them” i said, my breath hitched slightly, realising how close we were stood to each other, yet i don’t think she realised.

“ahora no es el momento de ser terco” she responded, huffing at me slightly “give me a name”.

“i’m the stubborn one?” i questioned, my eyebrows raising as i got irritated “you wouldn’t know stubborn if it hit you in the face. you’re so much more stubborn than me, everything happened and every time i tried to make things right you ignored my calls and my texts, i had to show up to your door just to be told you wanted space. i flew to france to watch you play and all the other girls came over but you, that hurt ale because the only person i really wanted to come over was you” tears threatening to spill from my eyes as i spoke “you are so stubborn alexia putellas, i tried to fix this but you were the one stopping that, so don’t act like you want to protect me all of a sudden” i added, tears now rolling down my face.

alexia took a step back and took a minute before attempting to speak, but i quickly cut her off.

“please, just go out to training, i’ll be there soon, i just need a minute” i said, with that she walked out the door leaving me in the locker room alone.

i took the time to compose myself before heading out to train, putting on a very fake but very convincing smile. at this point i needed the distraction and being on the pitch would offer me a retreat. i quickly apologised to pere blaming my lateness on a personal emergency before joining my group for training.

and to my joy, the distraction did work. by the end of training i was genuinely smiling and laughing as if nothing had happened at all. we all headed inside to recovery where i promptly made my way over to isabel, another team physio, knowing exactly how it would make ana feel. surprisingly, i was feeling extra flirty today, even if it was superficial..

“how can i help y/n?” she asked, as i perched myself on the edge of the table.

“my thighs please, they’re feeling quite tense after training, so i definitely need your magic hands to do some work” i said with a small smirk, laying down on the bed. i glanced over at ana who was working on cata on the table next to me, her face already showing the effect i was having.

“i can definitely put my magic hands to work” isabel said with a wink, before getting to work on my legs.

throughout the massage i showered her with flirty compliments, telling her good my legs felt after she worked on them and how she was the best with her hands. she knew i was doing it to rile up ana, yet it didn’t stop her in returning the flirty comments back to me.

“jesus ana, that hurts” i heard cata remark, turning my head to see a red mark on her leg where ana had gripped it too hard.

recovery was quickly over and surprisingly i felt a whole lot better. something about purposely making the person that used you intentionally angry felt like a release.i packed my things up and changed back into my normal clothes before heading out to my car, i hadn’t even made it half way across the parking lot before i heard my name being called.

“don’t walk away from me when i’m talking to you” ana called out, causing me to pause where i was standing and turn around.

“ana, i’m not doing this in public” i said, i wanted this to be over and i definitely didn’t want it to happen in front of my teammates.

“i told you i wouldn’t be impressed if you went to someone else in recovery, and i specifically said not isabel, so why are you acting like a whore now?” she questioned, raising her voice so anyone close by could hear.

“a whore?” i questioned, before shaking my head to refocus on the actual situation “i’m not doing this here, you can call me when you’ve calmed down” i added, turning around to walk away.

all of a sudden i felt a hand grip my arm and pull me back, making me lose my balance slightly, ana had gripped my arm so tight that her nails were beginning to grip into my arm.

“let go of me ana, you’re making a scene” i said, my chest getting heavy as i became aware of the amount of people who were around us, tears instantly started to form in my eyes as my anxiety increased.

“i’m not letting you leave until we talk about this” she said, refusing to let go of my arm.

“get off of her” mapi said, quickly dropping her bag and running over to us. the other girls, who were leaving training at the same time, weren’t far behind her as they all instantly diverted their attention to the situation.

ana was quick to drop my arm when she saw the attention she had gathered.

“this isn’t what it looks like, we were just having a conversation” ana said, trying her best to defend her actions.

“i think it’s best if you leave” cata said, before taking me by the shoulder and walking me towards my car.

whilst there was some distance between us, i could still hear a few of the girls interrogating ana, and she wasn’t doing a good job at defending herself.

“hey it’s okay, why don’t i come round for a bit and we can just sit and chill for a bit” cata said, giving me a reassuring smile, causing me to nod in response.

before getting in my car i looked back at ana to see a very heated conversation between her and alexia.

“you’ve taken advantage of her for too long now, go and pack your stuff, you won’t have a job to come back to” alexia said, her voice as clear as anything.

her words repeated in my head, i could’ve sworn i heard those words recently to describe this whole situation. the messages from that unknown person said i was being taken advantage of, the exact thing alexia said.

any spelling/grammar mistakes, please let me know x

#woso #woso community #woso x reader #woso imagine #woso oneshot #barcelona femeni #barcelona femeni x reader #barca femeni #fcb femení #alexia putellas x reader #alexia putellas fic #alexia putellas #alexia x reader

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natalievoncatte · 21 days ago

Text

Every part of Lena Luthor’s soul was screaming at her do not do this.

Yet there Kara Danvers

(Kara Zor-El, last daughter of the house of El, LIAR.)

stood, bedraggled and tear-tracked, hunched in Lena’s doorway like a tiny kitten begging her for food. Lena wondered how she did it, how she made herself so small and unassuming, pathetic even. It was more than a change of clothes and hair and ripping off her glasses. She truly changed, somehow.

Changed to deceive. Changed to mock, changed to take without giving, to make Lena a fool.

(it was a cruel thought, a green thought, a Lex thought)

“I’ve told you already, Kara. I don’t want you here. You’re a liar, you and all your little friends mocked me to my face and kept secrets behind my back.”

“It wasn’t like that.”

“I don’t believe you.”

That relentless sad puppy look of hers softened even further.

“Why?”

God above how Lena hated her. Hated her for daring to ask. Fuck you, that’s why.

(nothing hurts more than a question that has no answer)

“I hate you, that’s why.”

Kara swallowed hard, wringing her hands. She was dressed in her pajamas and had probably flown here, then landed and asked to come up like a normal person. Didn’t she see that was the problem?

“I don’t believe you.”

Lena threw up her hands. “Oh fuck off with that, Kara. You lost your favorite toy, get over it. I’m done with you. I moved on, you should too.”

“You let me in. I’ve seen the real you. You’re not vindictive. You’re not cruel. You’re a kind-hearted, selfless, compassionate person.”

“And you didn’t,” Lena snapped, moving to close the door. “You deceived me in the most fundamental way. You made me believe you cared for me and believed in me and saw the good in me. No one sees the fucking good in me, no one. No one did but you… and it was all a trick to keep an eye on the Luthor.”

“No, no, I didn’t-“

“You didn’t? Then why did you get James to spy on me? Why’d you question my motives? Why’d you keep lying to me after I proved myself over and over and over again? Because I was never good enough. It was never real.”

Kara rubbed her arms. “Do you really think I brought you into my circle of friends and held you in when you were sad and brought you to Thanksgiving and let you sleep over in my home to keep an eye on you?”

There was a heavy pause.

“That’s fucking insane,” Kara snarled.

Taken aback, Lena flinched, half at the profanity and half at the anger in Kara’s voice.

“I admit it,” her voice broke suddenly, “I can’t deny it. I can’t just dismiss how you feel, I get that, but I didn’t keep my secret from you because you were some kind of a project, Lena. I kept my secret because keeping it let me keep you. It was selfishness, pure and simple. I wanted my one friend who didn’t see me as a superhero. I wanted… I wanted what I always want, things I cannot have.”

There was such agony in her voice that it cut through Lena’s growing fury like a blade sinking into clay, stuck fast, hot in her chest.

“I knew I’d lose you to it eventually. I didn’t do it for you. I did it for me.”

Lena blinked a few times, feeling her resolve start to shake.

(another manipulation. she will do anything, say anything to get back in your good graces)

(to do what, Lex? to what end?)

“Say what you came here to say.”

“I kind of did, but I have one more thing to ask.”

“Then ask it.”

Kara swallowed. “I want to pretend.”

Lena’s brow arched.

“Pretend what?”

“Just pretend it’s like it was. For one night. Just give me one more night and I promise you I will never bother you again. You’ll never see me or Supergirl for the rest of your life.”

“You’re on TV every day.”

“I meant in person.”

“And stop talking about yourself like you’re two different people.”

Kara sniffed.

“Okay,” she muttered.

Lena stood there for what felt like an eternity, screaming at herself not to do this.

(do it, it’ll make it hurt more)

(me or her?)

Lena stepped aside.

Kara entered. She brushed at her eyes, adjusted her glasses, and walked into Lena’s expansive, cold, dark penthouse.

As soon as she did, it was as if the light came back. It felt warm again, seeing her standing there. Having her here, in her cute little pajamas with her braid over one shoulder, those big eyes open and hopeful.

Lena closed the door.

“What do… what do you want me to do? Us to do?”

“We could watch a movie, maybe get Chinese delivered. Have you eaten? I doubt you’ve eaten.”

Lena hadn’t, actually. She hadn’t eaten today and had eaten only scraps yesterday and only because Jess insisted.

Kara touched Lena’s side, a soft brush of fingers over her ribs, and winced.

“You’re starving yourself,” she murmured. “Oh, Lena.”

“Kara-“

She already had her phone out and was ordering. Of course Kara had Lena’s place still saved in DoorDash.

Lena grabbed her hand to stop her.

“My treat.”

Lena fetched her own phone and put in a quick order- of course she had all of Kara’s favorites saved and of course she almost sent them to Kara’s address instead of her own.

“I ordered.”

Lena looked down at herself, wondering why the hell she was doing this. She was still dressed for the lab, so she retreated to her bedroom.

When she opened the closet her eyes immediately went to the maroon Midvale High School sweatshirt hanging at the far end of the rack, where it had been defying her for months. She should have burned the god damn thing but every time she reached for it, her hand pulled back of its own accord.

Not today. She let it fall over her, oversized for her frame and too long, and changed from slacks to leggings and pumps to bare feet, her toes curling from the cold hardwood floors.

Kara had already taken up position on the couch and had put on one of her beloved movies, one they’d already watched together ten times and Kara had probably already seen ten times more. The Princess Bride.

It was a cheap ploy and Lena knew it.

It gouged at her anyway, leaving something raw in her chest. It ripped open every place she’d forced to herself to scab over, broke every stitch. She killed the lights, halfway out of tradition and halfway to make sure Kara didn’t see her fighting back the tears.

Neither of them spoke. They sat on opposite ends of of the couch. When the food arrived, Kara got up to get it from the driver and her absence was keen, the void she left behind ripping at Lena.

When she sat down again right next to her, Lena let her. She shoved a box of take out into Lena’s lap and insisted she eat. They ate in silence.

Kara’s heart wasn’t in it. She are aimlessly rather than shoving her food in her mouth and gobbling it all down in minutes as she usually did. She was pretending, hard.

Lena barely paid any attention to the movie. The food, normally seasoned and spiced to the point where she couldn’t stand it and ate only to please Kara, was bland and tasteless in her mouth.

Kara, haltingly and hesitantly, put her head on Lena’s shoulder, and winced when Lena’s shoulders hitched. Why the fuck was she doing this to herself?

The worst part was that it didn’t hurt. It felt like home. Even now after all she had done and all that Kara had done and said, feeling Kara’s sadness in her soft weight beside her was ripping her apart, the mad anger and rage swept aside by a torrent of grief she couldn’t hold back.

If she was going to pretend she might as well pretend. She put her arm around Kara and leaned into her, nuzzling her nose into Kara’s soft hair, wondering if her alleged best friend ever noticed that Lena’s favorite thing in the entire stupid fucked up world was a Kara Danvers hug and nothing was more precious to her than these times when she almost kissed the crown of Kara’s head.

How she ached.

The movie ended and Netflix began making suggestions.

“Kara,” Lena murmured. “Let’s go to sleep.”

“If we go to sleep the night will be over,” her voice was small, trembling.”

“I know, darling. Just let it be what it is.”

Kara nodded.

Lena’s pulse was pounding as she headed for the bedroom, wondering how Kara had never picked up on how decidedly unplatonic it was to fall asleep in each other’s arms. Neither spoke as they climbed into Lena’s California King, a bed big enough to drown in, sinking beneath a goose down comforter, Kara’s body heat like old coals from a campfire.

For a moment they lay apart, and then slowly came together in their usual way, Kara forming herself into a protective cocoon to shield Lena from… from everything. Morgan Edge, her brother, alien shotgun weddings, random nuts with a gun and a grudge, everything but the greatest threat, her worst enemy.

“I have to go in the morning,” Kara whispered, “so I better say this now. You are not a monster, Lena. I never wanted to ‘keep an eye on you’ other than to protect you and keep you safe. No matter what you do, I will never, ever give up believing in you, but if you want me gone, that’s what I have to do. I love you so much it hurts me. I can’t stand being apart from you but if that’s what you need from me that’s what I’ll give. I would do anything for you. If moving on is what you want…”

Kara took a ragged breath.

“As you wish.”

Lena felt something crack inside her. An image filled her mind: Kara. Kara with graying hair, walking away, walking off into the sunset like the hero she was, and with someone else… with a child between them, a future, a home…

“God damn you, Kara Danvers!” Lena snapped, shocked at the sound of her own voice. “God damn you for making me feel this way! Do you have any idea what you did to me? I can’t just turn it off, I can’t stop feeling.”

“This was a terrible idea,” Kara sighed. “I should have known better. I’m just hurting you more.”

Kara began pulling away.

Lena threw out her arms, locked her hands behind the neck of the most powerful being on the entire planet, and yanked. Hard.

Their lips came together in a crash. The force was all Lena’s, as Kara’s inhuman might yielded to her control. There were no words. Kara hesitated for a shocked moment before she kissed Lena back, looping her arms around Lena’s waist.

This was no stolen glance, no innuendo, no coy hint. When Lena kissed Kara she made as if to devour her, and was mounting her before she realized she was doing it. Kara yielded, she always yielded even when Lena pinned her wrists to the mattress and clamped her legs around Kara’s hips and ground on her like a horny teenager.

She kept expecting Kara to sputter, to push back… to be fucking straight, to be brutally honest about her intentions, but there was nothing straight in the way Kara shifted to grind against her, or the way she twisted her hands free and slid them under the soft Midvale High Sweatshirt and skimmed them over the bare skin of Lena’s back. There was no mistaking the intent of her kisses or the feral sound she made when the shedding of clothing began.

Lena must have shocked her at first, because when Kara recovered, she became a force of nature. Lena was quickly on her back and let out an excited yelp when Kara simply tore her leggings apart and bared her with a feral grin on her face before shedding her top with the same desperate energy.

When they came together, really came together, Lena was nearly overwhelmed. Kara was insatiable, relentless. Hokey cliches like “force of nature” were woefully inadequate.

She never ran out of stamina and she was gentle when needed and forceful when Lena wanted it, every stoke and motion and caress somehow perfect, and she sensed without needing to be told when Lena was ready to give rather than receive and yielded without a word.

They barely even had to talk, and when Lena was finally exhausted, Kara was there with kind touches and soft words and cared for her like the most precious thing in the world.

Lena fell asleep, deeply and soundly, and when she woke up with the sun on her skin and an empty bed she wondered if it was all an elaborate dream until she heard Kara humming halfway across the penthouse, grabbed the sweatshirt, and padded barefoot from the bedroom.

Kara was at the stove cooking breakfast and holding a spatula like a microphone, singing… a fucking Britney Spears song.

“I thought you were going to leave in the morning,” Lena sighed.

Kara froze.

“I’m glad you didn’t. I’d have to come get you.”

Kara turned to her with a billion watt smile.

“I was lying about leaving you alone.”

Lena walked over, arms around her waist, hugging herself. She cupped Lena’s chin with a hooked finger and the casual intimacy of it made Lena’s heart swell.

“I love you so much. I can’t breathe without you,” Kara whispered.

Lena took Kara’s wrist and guided her hand to cup her cheek, nuzzling against the soft skin of Kara’s palm.

“Stay?”

Kara nodded.

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wonderjanga · 1 month ago

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even though the bad parent captain marvel thing is resolved, i'd still love some more scenarios from the JL's pov of marvel's 'bad' parenting. ONLY if you WANT to do it, if you dont then just ignore this request lol

like him telling freddy or mary to 'fuck off' or swear at them in general and threaten to steal their stuff or blackmail them (like normal siblings do -coming from a middle child with two siblings)

or maybe they hear freddy and mary ranting about marvel and they JL misinterprets their sibling rivalry as abuse

Marvel is a terrible parent. The JL knows it. It just flabbergasts them every time they see or hear about it because Marvel is literally the nicest person ever so why does he hate his kids?

Junior and Mary: *walking down a hallway in the Watchtower while complaining about Marvel*

Mary: “Says you. He was chasing me around with a darn stick trying to beat me yesterday.”

Junior: “You don’t have the right to complain. At least you could run.”

Mary: “I guess but Pedro was carrying you so you could get away too. So I think I have to right to complain.”

Flash: *had the unfortunate displeasure of hearing that*

Now why was a grown man running around after his kids and trying to beat them with a stick? Also what did Cap do to make it so that Junior couldn’t run away?? Flash knew he was magic, so he was hoping he just used some magic to bind his legs or something. Speaking of Junior…

Junior: *annoying Marvel*

Marvel: *looking more increasingly annoyed* “Junior. Please take five steps back from me before I decide to slap the shit out of you.”

Supes: *immediately looks over to them*

Junior: “No you won’t. You’re chicken-”

Marvel: *literally raises his hand to do it*

Supes: *looks extremely concerned*

Junior: *immediately shuts up*

Marvel: “Yeah that’s what I thought.”

Junior: “Bastard.”

Marvel: “You’re a bastard too. Anyways, want lunch?”

Junior: “Yeah, tacos.”

Clark got a little whiplash from the quick change of topic. Though, that entire interaction really does enforce that he does not care for these kids. It’s so unfortunately obvious. Another example of him not caring was when Marvel and the silver one were sent to go examine a cave on a deserted planet.

Marvel and Eugene: *staring at the ominous cave*

Marvel: *walks behind Eugene* “Well… go on.” *pushes him forward to the cave*

Eugene: “What do you mean go on?! I’m not gonna sacrifice myself for you!”

Marvel: “But we’re family.”

Eugene: “So? I’m not fighting a dang Xenomorph if one pops out.”

Marvel: “Don’t worry. We’ll fight it together.” *continued to push him, but is thankfully walking with him*

Batman saw this entire interaction when he was reviewing to body cams he forced the two to wear. Who just pushes their son into danger like that? He needed to have a talk with Marvel about his parenting.

Pedro: “Hey, which of us is your favorite?”

Marvel: *almost immediately* “Mary and Darla.”

Pedro: “Mary and Darla- why them?? Darla was eating crayons just the other day, and Mary is Mary.”

Marvel: “Okay and…? They’re still my favorites?”

GL: “Wait, who’s Darla?”

Marvel: “The purple one.”

At least he likes the purple one, Darla? They haven’t seen a negative interaction between her and Cap yet. Emphasis on yet.

#billy batson #dc captain marvel #shazam #captain marvel dc #fawcett city #fawcett #fawcett comics #mary batson #mary bromfield #freddy freeman #captain marvel jr #mary marvel #darla dudley #pedro peña #pedro pena #eugene choi

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girlgenius1111 · 3 months ago

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throw it all away part 2

part 2 of 2 :) [putellas!reader] just because she knows, now, doesn't mean the path to recovery is straightforward. alexia struggles to help you the way you need. you struggle to even want help. tw: this is a fic about r struggling with an ED. proceed with caution.

—

The protein shake glass sat empty in front of you when Alexia walked into the kitchen. Olga was in the chair next to you, rubbing your back slowly. There were tears running down your face, but your expression was stony.

Alexia took the seat next to you without a second thought, pulling you into her side. “I’m proud of you.”

“I hate myself.” You murmured, almost against your will. “This shouldn’t be so hard. It’s ridiculous.”

“It’s not ridiculous,” Alexia objected. “It’s okay. This happens, it’s normal, pequeña.”

You looked at her strangely, pulling away from her embrace and your sister winced at her own words, scrambling to fix her mistake. “I just mean this is how you’re supposed to feel. In recovery, this is normal. It’s going to be hard, but you just have to push through and-”

“Ale,” Olga interrupted, shaking her head gently.

Alexia looked back at you, falling silent as she did so. Your cheeks were burning with embarrassment, or maybe anger, and you were staring at the plate in front of you like it had personally harmed you. The blonde couldn’t take the look on your face, wanted more than anything to just say the right thing and have all the answers for you, and she started blabbering again before she could stop herself.

“You did a really good job finishing your protein shake-”

At this, you rolled your eyes, and Alexia started talking faster.

“-maybe we can get your favorite takeout for dinner? The pasta place you like, with the– ow, Olga.”

Again, Alexia fell silent, rubbing her arm where her girlfriend had elbowed her. Olga was shooting her a look and your sister sighed, rubbing at her forehead with her hand. Obviously discussing food was a no go, she should know better than that. She thought hard, trying to think of anything that would make you feel better, get rid of the horribly sad frown on your face.

“Maybe you can come to training tomorrow and watch! So you don’t miss out on too much, and-”

“Alexia, for the love of god, shut up.” You snapped, throwing your hands up in the air and rising from your chair.

“Pequeña, I’m just trying to-”

“You don’t want me to miss out on too much training, I got it. Football is the most important thing. I know that, Alexia. I know. I know I’m fucking my season right now, I know I’m fucking the team, so please just, for once, stop talking about fucking football.”

Alexia couldn’t help the hurt that panged in her chest, or the pained look she was sure flashed across her face. You felt guilt split your chest open at the sight, but you pushed that away, trying to hold onto your anger, which was quickly fading.

“I’m going to the bathroom.” You turned to walk out of the room, but Olga’s voice behind you made you freeze in your tracks.

“Nena? Can you leave the door open a crack please?”

You felt everything inside of you seize up at her words, shame and frustration and embarrassment and hurt welling up, until a few tears fell down your cheeks. God, you hated that they knew. They didn’t even know but they knew, and that was awful. Incomparably, singularly awful.

“Why does she have to– oh.” Alexia said. She hadn’t really considered that as a possibility. She thought you just weren’t eating. This seemed… worse, somehow. When you turned around to look at her, you could tell she thought it was worse.

“Yeah.” You agreed, turning back around and practically stomping out of the room.

As soon as you were gone, Alexia turned to her girlfriend. “How did you know she was… doing that?”

Olga exhaled heavily, leaning back in her chair. The two of you were going to give her a migraine, but she didn’t really blame you. Alexia on the other hand…

“I didn’t. I wasn’t sure, but I asked her to leave the door open just in case. Her reaction, though… she is.”

“Oh.” Alexia mumbled, unconsciously reaching for her girlfriend’s hand. Olga pulled away with a shake of her head, sitting up straighter in her chair.

“Ale, you have to relax. Talking her ear off isn’t helping right now, she’s already overwhelmed.”

“I’m just trying to help!”

“I know you are, amor, but you have to think about how she’s feeling right now,”

“But I don’t know how she’s feeling! I want to, but I don’t understand! I can’t understand. Keeping your body healthy is the most important thing in football, and I don’t understand why she’s done this, because I would never do this. How am I supposed to help if I don’t understand? I can’t, Olga. I can’t fix this.”

Both women were speaking too loudly to hear your footsteps returning to the kitchen, though you paused just outside the doorway, catching the end of your sister’s sentence.

I can't fix this. she'd said.

I can’t understand.

I would never do this.

How am I supposed to help?

It sounded like she’d already given up on you. She’d decided she couldn’t understand, couldn’t help, and it was all your fault. For pushing away her attempts to help earlier, snapping at her when you knew she was just trying to make you feel better. You felt like a lost cause, but now she felt that way about you too.

You took a deep breath, walking back into the kitchen before Olga could reply. You looked oddly pale and shaky, and though it was because you’d overheard your sister and misunderstood, Ale didn’t know that. She glanced over at you, doing a double take as her eyes widened.

“Nena, did you…?”

Next to the blonde, Olga suppressed a sigh. You blinked at her for a second, confused, before recoiling backwards, a scowl etched onto your face. “No. I left the door open like you told me to, and I didn’t do anything.”

Alexia relaxed, just barely, clearly about to say something else that would be entirely wrong when Olga spoke first.

“Why don’t you go upstairs and take a little bit, pequeña? It’s been a long day, you must be exhausted and overwhelmed.”

Your sister nodded her agreement, and you felt your heart sink even further if possible. Of course they didn’t want to deal with you anymore today. You didn’t say you’d rather be with them, because the loneliness would be almost too much to bear. You just nodded, eyes fixed on the hardwood floor under you as you turned and left the room once more.

—

Alexia felt slightly more prepared to talk to you when she knocked on your door a half hour later. She’d done some quick research, compiling another list in her head of what to say and what not to say. She’d tried to convince Olga to go up and check on you instead of her, because all the midfielder seemed to be able to do today was mess up, but Olga had insisted that it be Alexia. You needed your sister, and Alexia needed to make up for the absolute disaster she’d been earlier.

All she got in response to her knock was a sharp huff.

“Chiqui? Can I come in?”

“I guess.” You called back. Alexia opened your door, slipping inside and finding you sprawled on your bed, staring hard at the ceiling.

She hovered in the doorway uncertainly, opening and closing her mouth a few times before she settled on what she wanted to say. “How are you feeling?”

“How do you think I’m feeling?” You snapped, glaring at her harshly.

“Hey,” Alexia tried, though she wasn’t sure if she was allowed to scold you for catching an attitude with her. She didn’t know what any of the rules were anymore.

You shook your head with an annoyed huff. “What do you want, Ale? I thought I didn’t need to talk any more today.”

And Olga had promised you that. Alexia was just hoping, perhaps naively, that you’d want to talk to her more. Instead, it seemed like you were barely holding yourself back from forcibly shoving your sister out of your room.

Any other time, any other situation, Alexia would have shouted at you to be respectful. Both of you knew that. It only made you feel worse that she felt that she had to tiptoe around you. She was treating you differently already and you hated that.

Alexia studied you for a few moments, before walking over to your bed and taking a seat on the edge of it. She put her hand on your shoulder, but you shrugged it off, and Alexia bit her lip. You noticed she was wearing this absurd shirt you’d gotten her as a joke a few years ago, one that proclaimed her as the world’s best sister. Really, you’d given it to Ale to spite Alba after arguing with her, though you’d also gotten Alba one a few days later, just to make sure her feelings weren’t hurt. Alexia wearing it now could have been completely accidental, or it could have been some kind of weird confidence boost she was trying to give herself. Either way, you felt emotion try to claw out of the pit you’d shoved it into, but you pushed it down again.

“I just want to help you.” The blonde said finally, her hands fiddling with a stray thread on your comforter.

You scoffed, sitting up off your bed and turning to face your sister. “You don’t mean that.”

Alexia’s head whipped up to look at you, an absolutely crestfallen look on her face. “Of course I do. Why would you say that?”

“You don’t. You said so earlier, you don’t understand, you can’t understand, you’d never do this. How are you supposed to help? You can’t, so don’t pretend that you want to.” You were fully crying now, pacing around your room but absolutely refusing to make eye contact with Alexia.

The midfielder’s heart sank as you threw her words back at her. She hadn’t known you’d overheard her, hadn’t realized how that had sounded. She’d been begging Olga to give her some guidance, not expressing that she’d given up on you, that she didn't really want to help you.

“Oh, mi pequeña,” Alexia whispered, standing and pulling you into a hug. You didn’t hug her back, even as her arms wrapped tight around you, and she pressed a kiss to the top of your head. “That’s not what I meant, not at all. I’ve never been through this, nena, and it’s hard for me to understand, but that doesn’t mean I don’t want to help you. I do, more than anything.”

“You shouldn’t bother. It’s hopeless, I can’t do this.” You sobbed, finally hugging Alexia back, clinging on tightly to her shirt.

“It’s not hopeless. It might feel like it is, but I am never going to give up on you, on trying to understand, on trying to help. Never, nena.”

You pulled away for her, guilt once again replacing anger. Taking a few shuddering breaths, you tried to get your thoughts in order, or, you supposed, your feelings in order. You looked at your sister again, her arms at her sides as she looked at you helplessly.

“You’re being too patient with me.” You whispered, sitting down heavily on the edge of your bed.

Alexia took a seat next to you, feeling like maybe… maybe she did know what to say. “No. I don’t think I’m being patient enough.”

You shook your head, though still allowed your sister to grab your hand in hers. Whether it was for your comfort or for hers, you weren’t sure. Maybe both. “I’m not…I’m not sick. This problem, it’s all mental. I don’t deserve for everyone to be this kind and this patient. I chose this.”

There was a certain guilt that accompanied all of this. A real sickness, in your mind, wasn’t something that a person inflicted onto themselves. This was your fault. You had started it, you had continued it, and you’d let it get so bad that other people had to intervene. You didn’t deserve your sister’s patience.

Alexia gripped your hand tighter. “You are sick. Your brain is sick. And while you get better, you deserve all the kindness and patience. You made choices that got you here, but you are sick, hermanita. Just a different type than you’re used to.”

You looked at her tearfully, an almost pleading expression on your face. “I don’t know how to get better, Ale. I don’t know if I can.”

Alexia understood, then, that you weren’t pushing her away because you didn’t want her help, necessarily. You just didn’t want to waste her time when the task ahead of you felt so entirely impossible.

“I don’t know either. I don’t really know how to help you, but I’m going to find out, and I’m going to do it. Whatever it takes, nena. You are my baby sister, and you are worth the effort. I’m not going to give up on you. Not ever.”

For a moment, you looked at Alexia like you used to look at her. When you were tiny and she was your perfect, safe older sister. Your Ale, who let you sleep in her bed after bad dreams, who double knotted your shoelaces in the morning, and carried your backpack to class. Who taught you how to kick a football, and that you could be anything you wanted. You looked at Alexia like she’d hung the stars and the moon, like she could do anything.

That look used to make her feel like she could do anything, your belief in her something she could always count on. Now, the determination in Alexia’s eyes made you feel like you could do anything, just for a moment. You needed more than a moment, though.

—

If it wasn’t bad enough that you couldn’t play, couldn’t train, couldn’t even spend time in the gym without close supervision, you were seeing the specialist psychologist that the club had brought in every single day. The first few sessions didn’t heed much. It seemed she was trying to create a rapport with you, getting to know you before she tried to get you to bare your soul to her.

It was after your fourth session with your therapist, Lucia, that she began to press you to talk about the issue at hand. And it was after your fourth session that you found yourself speed walking out of Lucia’s office, not watching where you were going, tears streaming down your cheeks.

You were desperately hoping not to run into any of your teammates, as the facts of what was going on had been kept strictly between the captains and the coaching staff. Your teammates, however, would have had to be blind to not realize something was going on. All they’d been told was that you were out of training and matches for the time being.

Maybe some of them would have asked more questions if not for the terrifying shadow that your sister had become. She walked you to Lucia’s office every day, tried her best to be waiting outside when you were done. Any time you spent with the team, normally just coming out to the pitch to say hello, Alexia hovered behind you, shooting anyone a death glare if they so much as looked like they were going to ask you something deeper than “how are you?”

You half wondered if your Mami had put her up to this, because the last time you’d seen Alexia this protective was when you were 6, and you’d been getting teased at school. A few words from Eli to Alexia had your sister walking you to your classroom one morning, and making verbal threats to half the boys in the room. Alexia had been scary then, even as a teenager, and her actions had been more than effective.

This behavior might just be all Alexia, although you knew she’d told Eli and Alba what’s been going on. You didn’t want them to know, and Alexia had hesitantly agreed not to tell them. Later, though, Olga had pulled you aside and said that it would probably be helpful to both you and Alexia to have other opinions involved, and for Alexia not to carry the stress of this all on her own. She had a point, there, and you’d given Ale the go ahead to inform your Mami and Alba. She’d done so, but aside from phone calls from each of them, they’d been respecting your space.

Everyone, really, had been respecting your space. Aside from a new meal plan from the team’s nutritionists that you’d been trying your best to follow, no one had been forcing you to talk.

Until today.

Lucia had pushed you for the first time, and you’d tried your best to be open with her. It went against every instinct you had, though, and you could barely stick to a narrative with Lucia. For half the conversation, you’d admitted that there was a problem. For the other half, you’d denied it, until you were sure you’d contradicted yourself several times.

She’d let you go 10 minutes early, probably because you were in tears and had gone pretty much silent on her; she must have decided she’d pushed you enough for the day. It was in this state, tears falling freely down your face, that you exited her office. You turned the corner towards the changing room, intending to grab your bag from your locker and see if Olga would come pick you up early, instead plowing directly into Mapi.

“Woah! Where’s the fire?” She joked, grabbing your arms to steady you. Her smile fell, though, when she saw that you were crying. “Pequeña? You okay?”

It was clear for anyone to see that you weren’t okay, but Mapi wasn’t quite sure how willing you’d be to talk to her, so she decided to give you an out in case you wanted to go find your sister instead. Mapi wasn’t expecting the broken sob that you let out, or the way that you shook your head, so easily admitting that something was wrong after so long of pretending the opposite to be true.

“Do you want me to go get Ale?” The defender asked softly.

Again, you shook your head. How could you explain that you were crying because of your sister to your sister. “N-no. She’s busy.”

“She wouldn’t mind, nena, you know that.”

That was entirely the problem. She was being too patient, too perfect, it was almost overwhelming. There was too much pressure on you to be perfect, too. A perfect recovery didn’t exist, but you felt like it had to. For Ale, for Lucia, for the club and the team. It felt like you were hurtling towards some unknown end, the pressure building everyday. You weren’t sure how much more you could take.

“She’s dealing with enough of this. It’s fine. I’m fine.” You spoke as if you were trying to convince yourself, but the wobbling of your voice gave you away.

“Venga,” Mapi sighed, opening her arms for a hug. She half expected you to reject her, but was pleasantly surprised when you stepped forward and wrapped yourself tight around her. You were trembling, and she tightened her grip on you, wondering if she should ignore what you’d said and go get Alexia anyway. She didn’t want to betray your trust, though, and it seemed very obvious that you didn’t want to see your sister at the moment, so Mapi settled for some empty words she hoped were somewhat comforting.

“It’s all gonna be okay, pequeña. Whatever it is, you’re going to be okay.”

“How do you know?” You mumbled, sniffling into the shoulder of her training top, half embarrassed and half too tired to even care.

Mapi rubbed your back slowly, thinking on her answer. She just… knew.

“You don’t give up. You’re a determined person, and you can do anything you put your mind to. Whatever is going on isn’t any different. You’re strong enough for anything, nena.”

Pulling away, you wiped at your face, managing a weak smile for the defender. “Thanks María.”

She smiled sadly back at you, as if she knew what she’d said hadn’t really helped. “Anything you need, I’m here, sí? We all are.”

You nodded, thanking her again before you continued on your way to the locker room, hopefully where you’d be able to grab your stuff and get out of her before seeing anyone else. Especially Alexia. You got lost in your thoughts again rather quickly, barely able to focus when Olga answered her phone and told you to wait for her outside. You were too wrapped up in what Mapi had said.

‘You’re a determined person.’

‘You’re strong enough.’

You didn’t feel strong. You didn’t even feel very determined. You felt weak, like it was only a matter of time before you cracked and let everyone down. And everyone would see just how weak you really were.

—

The house was too quiet when Alexia and Olga arrived home from dinner. No music playing, no mindless reality show on the TV. And you were nowhere to be seen. Alexia slid her shoes off, offering a hand out to steady Olga as the other woman removed her heels.

“Something’s wrong.” Alexia murmured, looking up the stairs as if she could see through the walls into your room. She didn’t know what was wrong or what had happened, but she just knew something wasn’t okay. “I shouldn’t have left her.”

Olga shook her head, though, giving her girlfriend a sad smile. “You can’t always be with her, Ale. This is something she has to do herself sometimes.”

The blonde frowned. “But what if…”

“If she did, you tell her it’s okay. You tell her that relapsing is a part of getting better, and that you’re not upset with her.” Alexia nodded slowly, worrying her lip between her teeth. Olga grabbed her hand, squeezing once. “If she did, she probably just wants a hug, amor. She doesn’t want to hear that you feel guilt for leaving her to her own devices. She’s already going to feel like she broke your trust, and that would only make it worse.”

For a second, Alexia just stared in wonder at her girlfriend. Because, of course, it all made sense when Olga explained it, but Alexia would never have considered things from that perspective. Before Olga even knew what was happening, Alexia was wrapping her in a tight hug, tucking the shorter woman’s head under her chin.

“Thank you. I would have messed this up so many times without you, and I’m so grateful that you’re here and you’re so willing to help.”

Olga hugged her back with a matching ferocity, feeling a small smile grow on her face. Once, she’d expressed to Alexia that she felt the other woman wasn’t expressive enough. It was hard to know what the very tough captain was thinking, even harder to know what she was feeling. Since then, Alexia had made a concerted effort to speak her feelings aloud. It wouldn’t ever not make Olga smile to hear Alexia expressing her appreciation for her. “You don’t have to thank me.”

“Maybe I don’t have to, but I want to. I don’t want you to ever doubt how perfect you are.” Alexia replied sweetly, pressing a gentle kiss to Olga’s cheek.

It wasn’t the perfect date night that either of them had imagined, but it was still them, and that was enough.

—

You really hadn’t meant to ruin Ale and Olga’s evening. When they’d left, you thought it would be nice to have some time to yourself. And it would have been, if you hadn’t tried to push yourself to eat dessert on top of an entire dinner. You’d managed a few bites before you began to spiral, and it had all gone downhill from there.

Even still, you were hoping your sister and her girlfriend would slip into the house, say a brief goodnight, and not bother themselves with you. You certainly weren’t going to tell them what happened. Not today. It was your every intention to deal with your shame and embarrassment yourself in your room, which likely entailed crying into your pillow until you fell asleep.

Alexia ruined your plans, though, with her magical ability to sense when something wasn’t right. It allowed her to sniff out one of Pina’s pranks before it happened, allowed her to turn around and squirt Mapi with water just as the defender was about to do the same to her. It was a gut feeling, and it was even stronger when it involved you.

It wasn’t really magical. It was a lot of little things she picked up on. The little smirk Pina got before she pulled a prank. Mapi’s quiet giggling as she tried to sneak up on Ale. Now, it was the lack of noise in the house. The abandoned bowl of ice cream on the kitchen table, the light and fan left on in the downstairs bathroom. Your sister had known you all her life, and she knew what she’d find when she opened your bedroom door. Just like when you were little, and you’d sit at the foot of your bed when you’d gotten in trouble. Tears streaming down your little face, you’d turn away from Ale when she’d come after you, but she just had to wrap her arms around you, and you’d break.

You’d never been able to deny yourself the comfort of an Alexia hug.

Ale knocked softly before entering, finding you with your chin resting on your knees, wiping roughly at the tears falling down your face.

“Hey, chiqui.” She said softly.

“Hi.” You said, clearing your throat when your voice cracked. “How was your night?”

Alexia ruffled your hair, knowing exactly what you were attempting to do, and took a seat next to you. “It was nice, dinner was good. We had fun.”

“That’s good.”

Alexia wrapped her arm around your shoulders. “You can tell me if something happened.”

“Nothing happened.” You said firmly, though you leaned further into your sister, like she could protect you from something you’d done yourself. Something you’d done to yourself.

“Pequeña,”

“Nothing happened, Ale. Nothing.”

How could you tell her? How could you tell her that you’d failed, that you’d messed up, that you’d deviated from the plan? She was going to be upset, you knew it. She expected perfection. She always had. This would be no different. Alexia wanted you to have a perfect recovery.

As you continued to pretend nothing was wrong, Alexia felt a flash of frustration run through her. You still weren’t very willing to talk to her. Was she doing something wrong? Was she not not being patient enough or kind enough? What more could she do for you? What would it take for her to be enough?

She looked at you again, though, at the way your lower lip was wobbling, and the tears in your eyes that you refused to let fall. You were barely hanging on to your strength, and Alexia wasn’t sure why you were so resistant to being vulnerable with her, but she knew she couldn’t stop trying.

“Let me in. Please, you’re hurting, I can tell. Just talk to me.” She tried. When you stayed silent, she reached out, resting a hand on your shoulder. “I just want to help, nena. Let me help.”

You couldn’t take the pleading tone of your sister’s voice anymore, and the words streamed out of you before you could stop them.

“I’m sorry. I– It was all just too much, I didn’t have a choice, I had to,” You choked out, eyes fixed firmly on the wall in front of you, even as your voice cracked and you started to cry. “Fuck, I’m sorry. I’m so sorry, Ale.”

“Nena, why are you sorry?” Alexia asked, pulling you into her. You sobbed, unrestrained, into her sweater for a few moments, leaning back to take a few gasping breaths as you tried to answer her.

“I– I messed up,” you cried. “I broke your trust and–”

“No, cariño, don’t think of it like that.” Alexia interrupted, wiping a few tears off your cheek, though more replaced them quickly.

“But it is like that! The minute you left I made myself–” You cut yourself off with a sharp shake of your head.

“Tell me. Tell me what happened, and we can talk through it, yeah?”

“You don’t want to hear.”

“Yes I do. That’s why I asked. Walk me through what happened and we can make a plan for next time.”

It was always about plans with your sister, but you weren’t in much of a state to argue with her.

“I– I ate dinner. And it was okay. It was better. I think it got too confident or I wasn’t thinking hard enough but I got myself some ice cream but I only had a few bites before I was thinking about all the calories in it and how I’d have to skip breakfast tomorrow to make up for it, and then I remembered I have breakfast plans with Alba and I would have to eat and so I knew I had to–... I went to–,”

You couldn’t go on, crying too hard to get another word out. You covered your face with your hand, more than humiliated at your tears and what you were trying to tell your sister. It felt horribly private, and you didn't want to see the disgust and judgment on your sister’s face. You’d never given her this much detail before, and you were sure she didn’t want to hear this.

If you’d just opened your eyes, though, you would have seen the opposite of what you were expecting. Alexia was near tears herself, simply from seeing the pain that you were in. You were normally so good at hiding it; even when Alexia knew something was wrong, she couldn’t truly see how much it affected you. Now, though, something in you had broken, and you were falling to pieces in front of her.

She hadn’t seen you cry like this since you’d broken your ankle training with her a few years ago. All she’d been able to think to do while she waited for Eli to come pick you both up was pull you into her lap, though you were too big for it.

And it was all she could think to do now, allowing you to tuck yourself into her and cry as hard as you needed to. She held you tightly, as if she could stabilize the world as it crumbled around you, her own tears falling freely now.

“Alright, alright. It’s okay. It’s all okay, hermanita.”

“It’s not.” You sobbed, bordering on hysterical now. “I le-let you down.”

“No,” Alexia disagreed. “No. You didn’t let me down. This is part of it, chiqui. Part of recovery is relapsing, and I will never ever be disappointed in you for that. I know this isn’t easy.”

You simply didn’t believe her. She had to be disappointed, so you had to keep trying to justify it.

“I-I hate feeling like this. I just needed to control something. I just needed to be in control.”

“I get that. It must be really scary to give up control over what’s going in your body. Listening to the meal plans and eating what we tell you has to be so difficult.”

And though it was what you’d wanted all week, to hear Alexia acknowledge how hard this was, it didn’t feel right. You were convinced she was just saying whatever she needed to to get you to stop crying, that she was disappointed, even if she wasn’t showing it. She shouldn’t have to push down her justified anger because you were a disaster, she should be mad at you.

“No, Ale, stop.” You said, though you didn’t have the strength to push away from where your face was buried in the fabric of her sweater. “You’re disappointed, you want to yell. Just yell, please. It’ll make you feel better, and you won’t be mad at me anymore, so please. Just yell. I messed up. I deserve it.”

Alexia was quiet for almost a full minute. It felt like a stab to the chest that you thought she had to yell in order to work through her feelings. That you were so convinced she was angry with you, disappointed in you. That you were willing to sit through a lecture because you felt so guilty for what you’d done. She hated it all; you weren’t to blame. You were doing your best. She could see that, everyone could see that, so why couldn’t you?

It was as if you thought of yourself as a bad person for having an eating disorder. As if every relapse, every action you’d taken in the haze of your illness, made you a bad person. Being sick didn’t make you bad, and your sister ached to make you see that.

“Tell me something. After you make yourself throw up, what do you feel? What goes through your head?”

The question felt like it came from nowhere, the confusion you felt putting a stop to your tears. Instead, you breathed deeply for a minute, thinking. Hearing her say it made your stomach drop. You didn’t like to name it in your head. It was just… something you did, and if it remained unnamed, it wouldn’t matter.

But it did matter, and even though she was supposed to be mad, Alexia was rubbing your back like you mattered, and it was all so confusing that you just found yourself answering.

“Awful. Ashamed and embarrassed and disgusted. Guilty. I hate myself after I do it. It feels like the world is ending because I have to start over, like all the progress I’ve made was for nothing.”

“Does it make you feel like a bad person?”

At this, you jolted away from Alexia, staring at her with wide eyes. What was the right answer? What did she want to hear?

“I guess. I… I know I’m doing something wrong, something I shouldn’t be doing. I know I’m hurting my body and I know I’m hurting the team and my career. I’m doing something wrong and that makes me feel like I’m bad.” You admitted. Completely unsure where that confession had come from, you stared at your sister as you waited for her reply, as if you were shocked by your statement. She didn’t seem to be.

“It is wrong because it is unhealthy. It is wrong because you are hurting yourself. But… doing something ‘wrong’ doesn’t make you bad. You aren’t a bad person for being sick, you aren’t a bad person for relapsing. You’re doing your best, nena. You are trying. And even if you weren’t, that wouldn’t make you bad.”

You didn’t fully believe her, and Alexia could tell. This wasn’t something she could fix with a few words, though, and she knew that. Tomorrow, she’d make sure you talked to Lucia about this, but for now, she was content knowing that you weren’t crying anymore, and you looked significantly less distressed.

“You’re really not mad? Or disappointed?”

Alexia swallowed the lump in her throat at your question. “I’m really not. I’ve done my research, I’ve talked to your doctor, I knew to expect this, nena. It’s okay, it’s part of getting better. It can’t all be perfect, it won’t all be perfect. You don’t need to be perfect. You just need to try, and I’ll be proud of you. I am proud of you.”

You wondered how Alexia had gone from a disaster that could barely put a sentence together without saying the wrong thing to this; saying exactly what you needed to hear from her and more. Likely, it was a combination of Olga, the research you know she’d stayed up late doing, and sheer determination to help you the best she could.

“I know this is hard in a lot of ways,” Alexia continued. “But you can talk to me. Always. Without worrying that I’ll be mad or upset. I promise you, pequeña, you can tell me anything. I’m here to help you.”

“I just hate talking about this.” You admitted. “I don’t like being vulnerable.”

“I know you don’t. You never have.” Alexia chuckled, thinking about how Eli used to have a jar set on the kitchen counter called the feeling’s jar. If you were upset about something, you were supposed to tell your Mami or your sisters about it, but that almost never happened. Instead, Eli gave you the option to write the feeling down and put it in the jar for someone to read later, when you weren’t in the room. It was the best any of them could do to understand what was going through your head, even as a child. “Would it make it better if I was vulnerable too? If I talk about something hard with you?”

You laughed, thinking she was joking, but when you glanced at her, she was completely serious, earnestly staring at you.

“Maybe.” You said suspiciously, highly doubtful that Alexia was about to tell you anything that really mattered to her. If you were stubborn about your feelings, it was because Ale was too.

Alexia just nodded, almost solemnly, fixing her attention on the ceiling above you both before she began speaking. “This season… this season has been harder. It’s always been hard switching off from football and taking a break when I need to, but it’s like… I have all this stuff outside of football that deserves my attention too. And it’s even harder now.”

“Other stuff… being Olga?”

Your sister nodded, blushing just slightly. “I need to spend less time doing extra training and watching film and obsessing over strategies. I just… I can’t. I can’t do it. I have to train every day. I have to do the most that I can.”

“Or what?”

“Or… I don’t know. I’d feel bad. I’d fail the team. But if I don’t find a better balance…” Alexia paused, taking a deep breath. You could have cried, again, from how much you appreciated her in that moment. Telling you things you knew she struggled to share, so you’d feel less alone. “Olga is always on me about self care, and I’m worried I’ll lose her if I don’t figure out how to take breaks and leave football behind when I come home, at least a little. And I really, really don’t want to lose her.”

You thought hard, knowing that Alexia deserved the absolute best advice you could give her, even if she wasn’t explicitly asking for it.

“I don’t think you’re going to lose her, Ale. But I think she deserves better than being second best to your job until you retire. It’s like you said, you need a balance. Sometimes, football is going to come first. That’s just part of the job. But you also have to make sure she comes first too, sometimes. Even if you have to do something that makes you uncomfortable, like miss an extra training session or not watch all the available film you can get your hands on.”

By the time you stopped talking and looked at your sister, she looked almost stunned, as though she wasn’t expecting you to have anything very helpful to say.

“When did you get good at giving relationship advice?” She asked. “The last time I asked you for advice like this you told me to spray paint I love you on Jenni’s car as an apology.”

You laughed. “That was like… 10 years ago, Ale. I’ve grown up.”

“You really have.” Your sister got a rather pensive look on her face, as if she was just seeing for the first time that you were no longer a little kid. In effort to avoid any further sappiness, you voiced the idea that had popped into your head a few minutes ago.

“Didn’t Olga say she doesn’t have much work to do tomorrow? You should take her to lunch.”

“We have training.” Alexia said automatically.

You rolled your eyes. “I know. Skip. It’s a gym session and film that you’ve probably already watched. Skip it and take your girlfriend out. No one will care.”

It was clear that the idea made Alexia uncomfortable. Really uncomfortable. Her posture had become stiff and her hands were clenched almost as tightly as her jaw was.

But she thought about the last time she’d done something spontaneous for Olga, and the way the brunette's face had lit up. It had just been flowers picked up on the way home from training, but it had clearly meant a lot to her. Alexia wanted to see that look on Olga’s face again. Soon.

“Okay.” She agreed hesitantly. “How do I skip? Is it like school? Should I lie and say I’m sick?”

You laughed again, but Alexia joined in this time. “No, tonta. Just say you have a personal commitment. It’s not like anyone is going to ask questions.”

“Mmm. Well, you’re coming with us.”

You looked at her like she was stupid. “No I’m not. That would ruin the romantic date with your girlfriend.”

Alexia frowned, trying to think of a way she could make you a part of this too. A way she could make you want to try because she was trying. “Fine, but I’m bringing you back lunch, okay?”

Suddenly, you looked just as uncomfortable as your sister had, but you agreed nonetheless. You couldn’t not try if Alexia was trying. And you both knew that what you had to do was harder than what she had to do. It wasn’t really about that, though. It was about your sister understanding how difficult this process was, and telling you that you didn’t have to be perfect, just like she wasn’t.

Recovery wasn’t perfect. Existing wasn’t perfect. It was about trying. It was about knowing there needed to be a change, and doing your best to make one.

Trying your best didn’t have to be perfect, or without fault. Alexia almost threw herself into a panic attack the next day when she remembered she was missing a captains meeting, but Olga had calmed her down and Irene had promised to send her copious notes.

The look on Olga’s face had made it all feel worth it when Alexia had asked her of the plan you’d come up with.

“Do you want to get lunch tomorrow?” Alexia had asked casually, as her and Olga stood side by side at the stove, cooking dinner.

“After training?” Olga had wondered, confused.

“No. No training tomorrow, I’m taking the day off.”

It was very worth it when Olga practically dropped the wooden spoon she was holding and launched herself at Alexia, wrapping the taller woman in a tight hug. It was so, so worth it when Olga whispered a soft I’m proud of you in Alexia’s ear.

It wasn’t easy when you tried to eat lunch the next day. It wasn’t easy when you were done, and when you cried into your sister’s shoulder, when all you wanted to do was get rid of it.

But it was worth it later, when Alexia told you how proud she was of you, and you knew she meant it. You believed her. The next day, when Lucia told you she thought you were making good progress. Every step forward wasn’t without some faltering, but you moved forward anyway.

You moved through recovery. Forwards and backwards. Mostly forwards. Returning to training, to matches, to doing what you loved. To feeling like yourself again.

It wasn’t easy. It wasn’t perfect, but change was worth it. Getting better was worth it.

—

didn't plan on finishing this and getting it out tonight but it was flowing really well and i... think... i'm... happy... with.... it??? anyway! thanks for reading <3

#woso imagine #woso x reader #barcelona femeni x reader #alexia putellas imagine #alexia putellas x reader #putellas!reader #platonic reader #alexia putellas x platonic reader

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annebaby · 6 months ago

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hello all! its summer break, so hopefully i will stay motivated to write. one of my friends helped me come up with this idea, so i hope you like!!

warnings: fingering (r receiving), kissing, biting, public sex

divider from here!

coffee shop

college english - absolutely horrific. i’ve gotten a new essay assignment every week, each one being over a topic that was far too complex to make sense of. however, i had aced all of them.

so this week, i was fully prepared to ace another essay. my brain had been working overtime trying to predict the upcoming topic.

i travelled to the college’s local coffee shop, looking forward to my headphones, an iced matcha, and a few hours of pure focus.

i entered the shop, finding a seat tucked in the back corner. i set my stuff down and went up to order, feeling my phone vibrate while i was waiting for my drink.

it was an email from my professor with this weeks essay assignment.

“how do you challenge yourself to let go of things stopping you from being independent?”

what the fuck?

normally, this would be an easy topic. an easy answer to a simple question. but right now - it wasn’t.

i had just gotten over a fresh breakup with my now-ex girlfriend, kate martin. it was hard enough seeing her as the poster athlete all over campus, being reminded of her looming residence in my heart.

however, i recently had begun to work on myself and forgetting all the memories we had once shared. our breakup was civil, but the constant gossip of every recent hookup she had was like a dagger to the heart.

i prayed this assignment wouldn’t bring up all those feelings again. it was hard enough to get to where i was now. countless nights of crying to my roommates, eating junk food, drinking, etc. had gotten me to where i was now. i was happy.

that was until i saw my english assignment.

“iced matcha latte!” the barista called out.

i walked up to the counter, thanking her before sitting back down in my corner and opening my laptop. i put on my headphones, taking a deep breath before locking in and starting to write.

i wrote for what seemed like hours. i wrote about how i had gotten over my recent breakup by working out, giving myself time, and hanging out with friends (minus the excessive drinking). it was hard not to think about her blonde hair sprawled across my pillows when she would stay over. it was hard not to think about the way she would kiss me after she won a game. it was hard not to - wait, no.

i wasn’t doing this again. i couldn’t do this again.

i took my headphones off and paused my music, taking a break from the writing. i looked up and noticed how crowded the coffee shop had actually gotten. people had been piling in, and now it was almost full.

the line was at least 7 people long, each one talking to another person with them. i smiled to myself, feeling happiness radiating throughout the cafe.

until i saw that blonde hair. it wasn’t cascading over my pillows though. it was falling onto the shoulder of the girl she had brought with her. kate martin and the new mystery girl of the week, who would’ve guessed?

i scowled at the sight of them, anger filling my veins to distract me from my jealous, sad feelings. i wanted that to be me. that SHOULD be me.

fuck, why am i like this?

i pop my headphones back on my head, resuming the music with the volume all the way up. i try to ignore her presence, acting like i simply never saw her at all. its easier that way. i don’t want to see her doting on another new girl.

i regain my focus on my essay, but this time the words aren’t coming out as easily. instead, i was re-typing all my sentences. each word was filled with hate and anger, reflecting my feelings in this situation.

frustrated, i look up across the shop, immediately catching kate already staring at me.

god.

i quickly look away, pausing my music and heading to the restroom. i shut the door behind me, looking at my reflection in the mirror. all i see is a women who is defeated. a woman who is tired, angry and upset.

before i let the tears fall, i put my face in my hands. im squeezing my face, gently tugging on my own hair, and sighing out of anger. my leg starts subconsciously bouncing up and down, my anger starting to physically course through me.

the door opens. i turn my head to see the very person causing me to be this way.

kate notices me completely disheveled, locking the door behind her.

“hey, are you okay?” she asks. her hand reaches for my shoulder, but i stand back.

“im fine,” i say, trying to push my way past her back out to my laptop, my sanctuary.

but, she won’t let me pass. instead, she picks me up and sets me onto the bathroom counter, standing between my legs. i look away, not being able to look her in the eyes with tears now generously streaming down my cheeks.

“you’re not fine,” she says, cautiously wiping my tears. i swat her hand away.

“what makes you think you’re still allowed to touch me? talk to me like this?” i bawl.

i hop off the counter, now standing in front of her.

“go back to this week’s fuck and leave me alone,” i head for the door, but i’m stopped as kate grabs my wrist and pulls me back around to face her, unbearably close.

“please, just talk to me,” kate pleads.

i squeeze my eyes shut, trying to ignore the pain flooding throughout my head.

i look up at her, tears still falling down my face.

“you’re such an assho-

i’m cut off by kate’s hands on either side of my face, pulling me in for a sweet, hungry kiss. my hands hover over her, surprise engulfing me as i struggled to comprehend what was happening.

she pulled back, looking at me between my eyes. she was desperately trying to assess my reaction.

a moment of boldness was all it took for me to lose all control, and there was no need for her to assess when my hands reached her waist and pulled her into me. i smashed my lips to hers, her hands gripping my ass.

i groaned into her and she uses her opportunity to invade my mouth. taken aback, i stumble backwards until my ass is against the sink of the restroom.

“jump,” she whispers.

i suddenly realize how unfortunate this situation is - making out with my ex girlfriend in a coffee shop while she’s out with another girl.

its almost as if kate sees the realization cross my face when she says, ”its fine, its fine," against my neck. her voice gives me chill bumps, flashbacks to our previous encounters flashing through my mind.

her fingers are toying with the waistband of my shorts, dipping in and out teasingly. i feel her lips moving and nipping at my neck, no doubt leaving marks for me to discover later - kate’s signature move.

i whined her name, practically begging for her to slip her fingers in me. she smirked against my skin. i hated being so needy, but kate loved to tease. i could not handle that right now.

“please kate, please,” i whispered.

“what do you want?” she breathed.

her stupid pride. her stupid ego. had i really forgotten the way she’d make me beg for her? i laughed.

“you don’t deserve to hear me beg.”

i grab her wrist and move her fingers to my center, immediately feeling her fingers tense at my wetness.

i grab her shoulder with my free arm, my forehead digging into her neck. her fingers started tracing circles on my most sensitive spot, causing me to bite her shoulder to keep myself from moaning. in response, i feel two of her fingers dive into me, curling and straightening as she fucks me with them. i lift my head up to look at her face, her eyes looking downward between us the whole time.

“fuck,” i whisper. i feel myself coming undone, seeing her that focused on the connection between us was sending me over the edge.

she smiles and meets my eyes quickly.

“c’mon, you can do it,” she breathes. she leans forward and takes my bottom lip in between her lip, tugging on it. i felt the tightness in my stomach loosen.

kate breathed out as if she had been holding a breath this entire time. she helped me finish out my high, before sticking her fingers in her mouth, licking them clean of me.

she stands in front of me, unphased. meanwhile, i’m heaving, my legs shaking and cramping. i look at her, my face puffy from my previous crying.

and we just start laughing. i hop off the counter, standing on my tip toes to give her a quick kiss. this felt like old times, our feelings felt like they had never left.

“tell your whore that i’m back,” i whisper.

her eyes widen in amusement, her hands finding a resting spot on my waist.

“i’ll be at your place later so we can talk about… this.” i motion back and forth between us.

i leave her grasp and walk back out in the coffee shop, returning to my laptop. smiling to myself, i read the essay that i had so effortlessly typed out. i delete the entire thing before closing my laptop.

i couldn’t write about being independent after my ex girlfriend had ruthlessly fucked me in the coffee shop bathroom.

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milo-is-rambling · 2 years ago

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I think I’m in between food hyperfixations and it’s spooking me

#need to stop eating everything in my sight when nothing makes me happy but it’s so much easier to eat everything in my path than it is to #sit and not eat bc I always want something to chew on I want chips I want fruit I want meal after meal I need to stop !!!!#I haven’t even been that excited about cherries recently I think I need to let them come to room temp before I truly like them like them #idk everything reminds me of something else and idk what I like and what I can’t stand to look at anymore and it’s making me feel crazy #anything can set my emotions off and I hate it I don’t want to eat frozen grapes anymore bc I ate them every single day last summer while in #a discord group full of ppl I don’t talk to anymore and now grapes make me upset and sad #it’s just like idk little things like that like why must everything I do have layers can’t I just fucking enjoy things like a normal person #ughhhhhh #anyways just had a serving of microwave French toast sticks and now I’m sitting in front of my ac smoking and thinking about what I want to #eat next #I mean to be fair it’s noon and I went to bed at one or two so like it’s been hours and five small French toast sticks probably wouldn’t #hold an adult over but also I hate myself and my needs and my wants I want to never eat again and also never stop and I hate myself #but also I’m the best person on the planet and everyone wants me and food is my oldest friend #I think I’ll go get my garlic triscuts and hummus and fancy cheese #and grab the cherries #and then set up a Walmart order and see if literally anything speaks to me #that isn’t completely junk

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lamentationsofalonelypotato · 3 months ago

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Chapter 10: Brother Dearest

Pairing: Soldier Boy x f!reader, Reader POV

Summary: When you decided to work with Butcher and his merry band of supe hunters to take down Homelander, you neve expected to be saddled with a sullen, grumpy, jerk like Soldier Boy when the job was done. The more you're around him the more you hate him, but you can't help but wonder, is he really as big a jerk as you think? Reader is a supe with plant powers. This takes place in an AU about a month after the end of The Boys Season 3, in which Butcher has let Soldier Boy continue to work with him on his team. (I'm real bad at summaries, please forgive me!) Soldier Boy calls the reader "Petals."

Tropes: Enemies to Lovers (Not in this chapter), Only One Bed (This chapter), Slow Burn, Age Difference (Reader is in her 20s), Soft Ben/ Soldier Boy, Protective Ben/Soldier Boy

Word Count: 9.7K

Warnings: I'm going to label this 18+ because Soldier Boy (he's a warning and everyone knows it), Manipulation, Gaslighting, Swearing, Mentions of Sex, Sexual Innuendo, Sexual Tension, Shouting, Anger, Talks About Weed, Super Manipulative Trash Man Being Introduced, Ben/Soldier Boy might be a little bit OOC.

Note: This is told from Reader's perspective. Any references to the reader is made using you or your. There is minimal use of y/n. I tried my best to proofread, but nobody's perfect. If you don’t like, don’t read, but if you do like, you’re my favorite!

Internal monologue is in italics and is in first person.

A/N: Back to our regularly scheduled angst...

Series Masterlist

Main Masterlist

Spotify Playlist 🪴

It feels like you've only had thirty minutes of sleep when your body jerks upwards out of your bed to the sound of crashing and the shattering of pottery, followed by someone who doesn't sound like Ben shout "What the fuck?"

It had been a few days since you faced the supe with the ability to liquidize his form and after about five showers that included you scrubbing the skin of your body raw with both a luffa and a sugar scrub and gargling with Listerine until it felt like all your taste buds were burned off, you felt that you had rid yourself of the oppressive smell and taste of the supe.

Ben and you seemed to be falling in to a familiar pattern, he walked with you to work before going off to see what Butcher had planned for him and if he could Ben would always show up at the end of your shift to walk you home. Though each time he was less than friendly to Jake, who was still trying his upmost to get Ben to talk to him rather than Ben's usual half-grunts, shrugging shoulders, and death glares.

It wasn't working and you stopped trying to get Ben to be more friendly towards your boss, but it didn't make it any less unusual that Ben kept walking with you to and from work.

When you asked him why he walked with you he said that "You shouldn't be walking alone" which of course prompted the conversation of "I don't need a babysitter" and "I've been walking to the store for two years by myself" and him not listening to anything you said. That last bit was becoming more and more normal for the two of you.

So you rationalized that Ben was trying to be nicer to you because he wanted to try to be sort-of friends and you tried not to think about how it was making you have more feelings for him.

It was difficult not to like Ben when he was acting more friendly. When he actually made an effort to have conversations with you or sat with you quietly while you read or when he was walking with you to and from work and stopping along the way to get you coffee or your favorite tea. It was confusing to you why he was doing that, why someone who was so focused on sex was doing sweet things for you after you told him that you wouldn't sleep with him and was making you have deeper feelings for him.

So like a normal person you threw your frustration into your crocheting. Over the past week you had finished Annie's sweater, made four cat toys for Bean, and were currently working on a long cardigan sweater to send your grandmother who called last week to check in and had told you she needed a new one.

Ben had come with you to the craft store and hated every second of it. Not to mention each time you added a bundle of yarn to the basket you made him hold, he would ask "What the fuck are you going to do with that?" to which you responded "Learn quantum physics." Though Ben had been impressed with the knitting needles, thought that they could be useful enough to use for self defense and had embarrassed you when you turned around and found him trying to mime stabbing someone with them while the other people in the store watched him in horror.

You rolled out of bed and threw open your bedroom door before barreling down the darkly lit hallway and sliding into the living room on your crocheted leaf socks. "What is it?" You shout prepared for attack.

Unfortunately when you slide into the room, you do so with too much enthusiasm and you slip and fall, landing on your back with a loud groan.

That one hurt.

"You alright Petals?" You hear Ben ask from somewhere above you. It's not said in a teasing way, it's said in a growl.

Is he mad at me?

"Yep just testing if gravity is still working. It is, if you were curious." You cough out a laugh as you get up and realize that Ben isn't on the couch, he's standing in the middle of your kitchen holding someone by the lapels of his black oversized army jacket against your refrigerator.

Oh that's why he's mad.

The man is rail-thin, dressed completely in black, with hair so blond you sometimes thought it was white, buzzed over his head, and although you can't see his face you know that he'll have a set of dark blue eyes that sometimes turn black when he's angry and a pair of dark hoops curving over his right eyebrow. Ben is holding him up so high that the man's feet aren't touching the ground.

You hadn't seen your brother Darren in at least a year, not since he dropped by to crash on your couch to tell you that his buddy Roach, yes that is what he called him, was opening a restaurant and asked Darren to be his business partner. He had walked you through the technical lingo and acted enthusiastic about the prospects, told you that it was his dream to open a restaurant, but he was having a problem coming up with his half of the cash. Darren had asked you for a small loan and you'd scrambled to get it together for him.

But after about three months Darren called to tell you that it fell through and that he was onwards and upwards trying to "make his way in the world" which by now you knew was Darren speak for "could you please send me a little more money to get on my feet." Your grandmother had stopped giving him money ages ago, but you couldn't, he was family, your only brother and you loved him.

"Darren?" You say hesitantly.

"Hey sis!" Darren smiles when you turn on the light in the kitchen, looking too happy for someone being smooshed against a raspberry and blackberry covered refrigerator.

"You know this guy?" Ben glances at you over his shoulder. He's not wearing a shirt again and you're trying very hard not to focus on how good he looks without one. The muscles on his back are flexed from the exertion of holding your brother up against the refrigerator and Ben isn't breaking a sweat.

Lifting a person probably feels like lifting up Bean to him.

"Yeah he's my brother." You take a step forward and hear something crunch beneath your foot. Your gaze drops to the floor and you understand exactly what the loud crashing noise was.

The strawberry plant that usually sits on the small kitchen table that you shoved under the window is on the ground. Shards of painted pottery litter your floor in every direction, the strawberry plant smooshed under a boot print that matches up with Darren's infamous buckled motorcycle boots. The same ones he'd had since high school that he'd tell anyone who listened he won in the same bar fight that he got the thin scar on his chin from, when in reality he got them at a thrift store down the street from your grandmother's house and the scar from when he tripped and hit his chin on the toilet when he was fifteen and trying to learn how to shave.

Must have come in the window from the fire escape.

Most of the window had been blocked by a tangerine and lemon tree that you had encouraged to grow, but now the tree was pushed to the side off kilter and the window was open letting in the warm summer breeze.

You didn't understand why Darren did that when he still had the key that you made him when you moved in.

Ben drops Darren unceremoniously onto the hardwood floor, who lands with a loud "clunk” from his boots, but your brother doesn’t look upset. He rubs his hand over the top of his head as if adjusting his buzzed hair with a sheepish smile while Ben steps back onto one of the pieces of pot on your hardwood floor, but doesn't wince.

Darren notices your gaze on the smooshed strawberry plant and the shattered remains of the pot it was in. "Ooo, sorry sissy." He frowns. "But I'm sure you can fix it can't you? That is what you do." Darren emphasizes it by waving his hand around you apartment at the numerous plants covering your walls.

You crouch down and pick up the remnants of the plant gingerly, cradling it to your chest. "Um, yeah." You force a smile, trying not to think about how important the pot was to you. It was the last thing you had of your grandfather, before he passed. It had been one of your favorite memories, sitting out on the back porch in the middle of a thunderstorm painting flowers and dots and zigzags on the terracotta pot that housed the strawberry plant that you grew on the tray of your high chair the day your powers developed.

Darren knew how much the pot meant to me. He had one too before he used it for air-rifle practice.

You put the plant on your kitchen table, before taking the broom from the hook on the wall. "Why didn't you just use the door?" You tried to say it in an upbeat way, but it fell flat.

"I was excited to see my favorite sister." Darren grins pulling you into a hug.

He smells like he always does, a bit like cigarette smoke, beer, and the stale smell of weed. But when he pulls back and sees that you're still frowning, his own mouth begins to descend into an exaggerated pout. "Did you not want me to come by?"

"Of course I did." You say, but you weren't sure. "I just thought you would call first or use the key that I got you not come through the window."

“Oh stop being so dramatic.” He pats you on the head. “I’m here now so what’s going on? You got a boyfriend-“ He gestures to Ben. “Who is also a supe?”

“Ben is my roommate.” You emphasize the word roommate before Ben can say boyfriend. That was the last thing you wanted him to say in front of Darren. You'd never hear the end of it You begin to sweep up the pieces, trying to fight the urge to cry over the shattered remains. You knew that crying in front of Darren would only make him tease you about being "too sensitive" so you kept it down and figure that you can cry about it later.

"Uh huh." Darren eyes him. "So he's got super strength?"

"Why do you care?" Ben grouches, crossing his arms over his chest, but he doesn't look away from where you're sweeping up the pieces.

Darren shrugs and holds up his hands in mock surrender. "Touchy Touchy. Just making conversation dude. I mean, you're living with my sister." He breezes, but you notice Darren stand up a little straighter when he talks to Ben and you wonder if he was embarrassed by how easily Ben was able to man-handle him.

Ben opens his mouth, but you interrupt whatever he was about to say. "Darren what are you doing here?"

He brightens with the question. "Oh it's so exciting! My friend is starting up a business and-"

"You need money?" You interrupt, trying not to think about how much you could spare from the already measly sum in your bank account to help him. This month hadn't been the best and after rent and utilities you probably could only spare 70 dollars or so, but even that seemed to be pushing it.

"No nothing like that." Darren waves a hand. "I just needed a place to crash because I'm going to go meet him tomorrow."

"Oh-"

"And he wants to meet you."

"Huh?" You look up from the small pile of shards at him. "Why?"

"He said that he wanted to meet the sister who I'm always talking about." Darren shrugs, before pulling a blunt from where it is behind his left ear, and lighting it.

He talks about me to his friends?

"Uh-huh. I think that I've met enough of your friends." You reply continuing to sweep more pieces into the pile.

You were using the word "friends" hesitantly because Darren seemed to go through them so often that you didn't think that it was worth it to learn all their names. And also because one time you had run into one of the "friends" Darren made and he had proceeded to chase you down the block shouting words about your brother that were not worth repeating.

"I think you'll like this one." Darren eyes Ben again. "I showed him your picture and he said that you were classic."

You miss Ben stiffen.

"Please stop trying to set me up. I'm fine." You could feel your cheeks heating because you knew that Ben was watching you.

The last time Darren had tried to set you up you found out half way through the date that your date was his weed dealer, whose idea of a romantic first date was to take you to a gentleman's club and then try to see who would be into having a threesome. Needless to say you were underwhelmed and blocked his number. The only good thing that had come of it was the gummy bear edibles you'd nicked from his pocket when he was flirting with one of the dancers and Annie and you had enjoyed the rest of the evening giggling and eating copious amounts of pizza and snacks.

"I don't know, he's better than the last one. Definitely has more money and he's sophisticated." Darren breathes out a cloud of smoke and you wave your hand to dissipate the smog.

"Charles Manson would be better than the last one, Darren."

"Manson had hundreds of followers and was treated like a god. I think you're being too picky." Darren rolls his eyes at you while he takes a hit from the blunt.

"Only you would see Manson as a role model." You grumble under your breath crouching down to sweep the pieces of the pot into the dust pan. "But if you really want to stay here you can take my bed."

A part of you were expecting Darren to protest, to care that you wouldn't have anywhere to sleep, but he doesn't argue with you.

“Great! Thanks.” He takes a few steps towards the hallway, the cloud of smoke following behind him like a dark omen, before he stops and glances back. “You got anything to drink?”

“No. Fresh out.” You lie without looking up. You didn’t want it to mix with whatever the hell that was in his system, because with Darren it was always something.

“I swear it’s like you don’t even think about me.” Darren flashes a wide grin, but the joke kind of hurts.

As he goes you dump the pieces into a plastic grocery bag, hoping deep down that you could glue it back together, but even you know that it's probably a long shot.

Maybe I can make the bigger pieces into something else? File down the sharp edges?

Ben is still standing in your kitchen, his arms crossed, listening to Darren go down the hallway and into your bedroom, slamming the door behind him.

The door opens again and you hear Darren mutter, “Out stupid cat," sending a fuming Bean hissing down the hallway. He trots into the living room indignantly and you stoop down to calm him down, leaning the broom against the kitchen table as you do.

Ben is quiet, but you can feel the room heat up a few degrees for a second almost as if he's angry. “Does he always talk to you that way?” Ben’s voice is low.

“He’s high.” You continue to pet Bean, not looking up. “He’s not usually so-“ You search for the word.

“Fucking rude?”

You stand up with a sigh. “You sound like Annie.”

“Oh so she doesn’t get along with him either? Shocker.”

“Ben.”

He was bristling slightly, annoyed, teetering on angry. “Fine.” He mutters.

You turn your attention to the trampled strawberry plant, gently dragging your fingers over the petals repairing the damage with a wave of your hand as you do, until it looks better than it had a few moments ago, and place it in a plastic black pot temporarily. You were again, trying not to be too upset about the way that Darren entered your apartment, but it was like him to do something like that, like him to break things that you thought were important without a second thought for how you felt.

Your relationship with your brother was hard and sometimes it felt like you were the only one trying, but you didn't want to give up on him. He was the only family that you had besides your grandmother. When your parents died, Darren pulled away, stayed out late drinking and doing whatever drugs he could get his hand on, and had multiple flings with women in the neighborhood that weren't exactly single. Your grandmother had cut him out completely, but you couldn't.

“Are you okay?” Ben asks.

“Yeah, just kind of tired.” You sigh, closing the window that Darren pried open to get into the apartment. When you turn back you realize just how close Ben is standing to you, so close that you can feel the warmth radiating out from his skin and into the air.

His fingertip lightly presses the scrunch between your eyebrows. "You're lying." Ben says it quietly.

"I wish you wouldn't do that."

"Do what?"

"Tell me when I'm lying. It's infuriating."

"Why?"

"Because it's the 21st century and when someone lies because they don't want to talk about how they really feel, it's common courtesy to just say 'ok' and move on!" You snap, grabbing the bag of smashed pottery. You immediately felt bad. You didn't mean to snap at him, but you were upset about Darren showing up unannounced even though you told him each time he came into town to tell you, but he never did, and about him breaking one of the only things in your apartment that had sentimental value to you.

Ben frowns at you for a minute, and you think that he's going to come up with some kind of retort, but instead he says "Okay."

"Thank you."

You watch Ben's gaze drift back into your living room. "You can take the couch.”

It surprises you. You were just going to camp out in the bathtub and will the moss to make a pillow beneath your head. "But where will you sleep?"

“I can sleep on the floor.” He shrugs. "Don't need a bed. And I've slept enough anyway-"

“Ben you’re not going to sleep on the floor because my brother decided to show up in the middle of the night. It’s unfair.”

It was. You didn’t want Ben to curl into a ball on the floor and try to find a comfortable position, not after he'd spent the last forty years in a Russian Lab without a bed and probably without a pillow.

He shouldn't have to suffer because my brother never remembers how much I hate surprises.

“Well I’m sure as hell not going to let you sleep on the floor.” Ben shouts.

"I can sleep in the bathtub. The moss is actually really comfortable-"

"In the fucking bathtub? You're kidding right?"

"No. I've done it before-"

"When?" Ben suddenly looks murderous.

"The last time Darren was here I didn't have a couch and-"

"That fucker made you sleep in the bathtub?"

"I mean he didn't volunteer any other options and Darren can't fit in there so-" You try to reason with him, getting confused as to why Ben was suddenly looking down the hallway like he was going to haul Darren out by the lip and make him apologize.

"I'll be fucking damned if you sleep in a fucking bathtub!"

“What is it with you being chivalrous at the most inopportune times?” You stamp your foot in frustration.

You didn’t want to sleep in the bathtub, but you were willing to if it meant that Ben had a soft place to sleep. The moss wasn't all that bad, it was squishy, and the bathroom was kind of cozy in your apartment because of all the plants you had in there.

“Forgive me, but when I grew up it was considered common courtesy to give things like beds to women. And what kind of man would I be if I let you sleep in a mother fucking bathtub?” He shouts back, using the words you had used earlier to yell at him for pointing out your lie.

“Well if you sleep on the floor then I’m going to sleep in the bathtub."

“Fine.” Ben seethes.

“Fine.”

You stand there with your arms crossed and eyes narrowed refusing to back down. Ben mirrors your stance, before he loses it.

“I think it’s fucking ridiculous that no one is going to sleep on the couch. So why don’t you just shut up and sleep on the couch?"

“Because it’s your bed!”

“I bought it for both of us to use!” He snaps back.

You glare at him, tapping your foot, before you glance at the large couch.

Honestly, when it was in the pull out position it was about the size of a full bed, maybe a little bigger, more than enough room for Ben and for you. The thought seemed almost too crazy to consider… almost. Your mouth dips into a nervous frown, anxiety electrifying in your veins.

“I mean it’s-“ You clear your throat. “It’s big enough for both of us.” You say quietly.

Ben looks at you like you’re crazy, body going taunt. “I thought you said you didn’t want me to fuck you.”

“I don’t want to fuck me Ben, but I don’t hate the idea of sleeping with you. I mean I don’t think you’re going to do anything while I’m asleep."

Ben looks angry all over again. “I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again! I’m not a fucking rapist.”

“No. Ben I mean-" You were waving your hands in front of you nervously trying to find the words. "I’m not saying you’re a rapist. I’m trying to tell you that I trust you and-“

Ben’s expression slackens. “You trust me?” He interrupts you in a whisper, sounding almost as if he can’t believe it, his face twisted into an emotion that you can't recognize.

“Well yeah.” Your cheeks flame bright red. “I mean we’re kinda friends and I trust my friends. I mean, do you think that I would let you live here if I didn’t trust you?"

Ben clears his throat, but doesn't say anything. "Um-" His eyes flick to the couch then back at you. "I don't want you to do anything you're uncomfortable with." He says gruffly.

"It doesn't make me that uncomfortable." You reply, but you're already trying to figure out the mechanics of how you can sleep on the couch with him, without touching him.

"Uh-huh." Ben raises an eyebrow.

"It's okay. I'm going to get my pillow."

"I'll get it."

"But-" You begin to say, but Ben ignores you and stomps down the hallway.

Why does he want to get it?

He doesn't even bother to knock when he goes into your room and you can hear a quiet scuffle, followed by your brother shouting "What's your problem man?" and Ben's retort of "Just shut the fuck up and go to sleep."

Ben is still grumbling something under his breath when he comes back into the living room, but he holds out your pillow for you. "Here."

"Thanks. But what did I say about you going into my room?” You hoped that the joke would ease some of the tension that you were holding in your shoulders.

"I think we threw all that out the window the other night. Don't you think Petals?" Ben smirks.

Right, the other night when he broke down my door and let me squeeze his hand.

"Maybe." You hug your pillow against your chest. "Do you-" You cough to clear your throat. "Do you want the inside or the outside?"

His eyes flick to the front door and then to the hallway. "I'll take the outside."

"Okay." You stand there awkwardly for a minute and even though you were the one who suggested this idea in the first place, you suddenly feel anxious.

I can do this. I can lay next to him and avoid touching him. What if I snore? Or drool? Or say embarrassing things? Oh fuck what if I start to have a dream about him with him literally laying right there.

“Petals, if you don’t want to-“

“I want to. I just need to wrap my head around it and I don’t want you to sleep on the floor.” You take in a deep breath and climb onto the couch, pushing yourself as far as you can into the back cushions. You don't look at him when he gets in behind you, leaving about a good three inches of space between your bodies, the two of you back to back.

It's quiet for a few minutes, but then you feel the couch begin to shake lightly and you realize that Ben is laughing.

"What's so funny?" You turn to look over your shoulder at him.

"I was just thinking that it's about time I got you into my bed Petals."

"Shut up." You snort and turn your body enough to hit him on the shoulder, which makes Ben turn over to face you.

His dark hair hangs long over his forehead, his eyes shining, and his signature smirk pulls at the end of his lips. "Make me."

Fuck. You bite the inside of your cheek, fighting the flush that threatens to rise against your cheeks, when you think about kissing him to shut him up. All that did was remind you of the kiss you shared in the hallway the night he first slept in your apartment which then lead to how close he was to you and that only brought back memories of his beard against your neck outside the party. The flush that finally breaks through is coupled with the immediate blooming of the apple tree at the end of the couch. The delicate flowers fluttering open as if they were winking at the two of you.

Shit, maybe he won't notice that.

Ben glances up at the tree above the two of you confused. "Why'd you do that?"

"Do what?" You ask innocently.

"You made the tree make the fucking flowers."

"No, I didn't." You hit your pillow to rid yourself of an imaginary lump.

"Yes, you did. You also did it the other day when you were reading your book." Ben's eyes roam your face as if he's searching for the answer.

Oh right, when I was reading my book and it started to get a little bit steamy and everything in the room started flowering like it had been a long winter… Honestly it kinda has been a long winter, but I'm not going to think about it right now when he's this close to me. I can't believe he noticed that.

"Does it mean something?" He raises an eyebrow.

"Nope."

Ben smirks his eyes drawn to the center of your forehead where you know the scrunch is giving away your lie. "It does, doesn't it?"

"Nope. Goodnight." You turn over and stare at the back cushions of the couch. Hoping that he’ll just drop it.

He doesn’t.

"It means that you're turned on, doesn't it Petals?" Ben's breath is warm against the back of your neck, making goosebumps trail over your arms and you fight to keep control of the blooming.

"No, it doesn't."

"Do I turn you on?" You can hear the smile in his voice.

"No, and it’s not what it means."

"Uh-huh. So when I do something like this-" Ben reaches out to touch the small of your back and trails his warm large hand over the curve of your right hip.

You clench your teeth together to try to stop the power that rushes out of your body with the contact, but it's too late, the Jasmine that creeps along the brick wall behind the tv explodes, the smell of Jasmine wafting over to the couch where Ben and you are laying.

Ben laughs, shaking the couch beneath you.

"Shut up. It's so embarrassing." You moan into the pillow curling further in on yourself and pulling the crocheted blanket over your head, blushing so deeply that you were sure you looked like a giant raspberry.

“It’s not embarrassing Petals.” Ben chuckles, pulling the blanket down from your head. “It’s kinda cute.”

You glare at him over your shoulder. “I will kill you.”

Ben contemplates what he’s going to say next. "So when you're fucking someone-"

"If you finish that sentence you're not going to wake up." You warn, knowing exactly where he's going with this.

Ben only laughs at you. "Come on Petals, I'm curious. Plus you're so adamant about not sleeping with me that I guess I'll never see when you c-."

"Fine!" You shout turning around to face him again, cheeks beet red. He's still staring at you with that ridiculous smirk that makes your legs weak and sends warmth pooling into the pit of your stomach. "When I have an orgasm, I do make everything bloom. Happy?"

"I mean I'd be happier if you'd let me witness it and if you'd let me fuck you." Ben's hand is touching your waist, his thumb teasing the edge of where your t-shirt meets the top of your sleep shorts.

"Ben, we've talked about this." You say it mostly to remind yourself.

"I know." His smirk dips into a frown and he withdraws his hand from your body.

You chew the inside of your cheek thinking about how hard this is and how much you wished it could be different.

"It's okay." You whisper, because he might not have apologized, but you could see the frustration on his face. "Really, it's fine."

Ben doesn't say anything, only continues to look at you with an unreadable expression, so instead you say "I'll see you in the morning" and you turn over to look at the cushions on the back of the couch, hoping that you're able to fall asleep before he does.

Mike's screech of "I Will Always Love You" is not as loud in the living room as it is in your bedroom, but it's still enough to wake you up. The room is lighter in the morning, the gentle pulse of sunlight filters through the leaves of the plants, but sends a warm glow over your body.

Actually, you were already warm, really warm, warmer than usual.

That's weird why am I-

You inhale sharply when you realize why you're so warm. Your body is pinned into the couch cushions, because Ben is practically laying on top of you. Your back is flush against his chest, his strong arms wrapped around your waist, and his face is pressed into your hair.

This isn't good.

Ben mutters something in his sleep and tightens his grip on your waist, pulling you even further against his chest, and shifting his hips in a way that makes you realize that this is a lot worse than you thought. Because you can feel exactly what makes Ben so cocky begin to get excited.

Fuck, this really isn't good.

"Um Ben?" You whisper, but he doesn't wake up, instead he moans something into your hair, and shifts his hips again in a way that makes your heartbeat stutter in your chest.

Fuck. Really not good.

You knew that Ben was attracted to you, knew that he had wanted to fuck you since the moment he first saw you, so you weren't surprised that this was happening, and there was a part of you that enjoyed this. Laying in bed with him, feeling his warmth transferring to you, having his body relaxed around you as he pulled you deeper and deeper into his chest. The warmth was lovely, you didn't do well in the cold and being with Ben meant that you'd never have to worry about that again. It was moments like this that you wished you never let Ben move in, not because you hated him, but because you liked him too much.

"Ben." You say it louder.

"Hmm?" Ben groans. "If no one is dying then don't wake me up Petals." He murmurs, obviously not understanding what the problem is. You wait another minute, lying beneath him and trying to think about a way to get out of this, when Ben realizes what he's doing.

He raises his head from your hair blinking at where you're staring at him over your shoulder with wide eyes.

"Morning." You whisper.

"Morning." Ben returns, but it's barely audible, just a marvelous deep rumble that you can feel vibrating up through where he's laying on top of you.

Ben doesn't move, his eyes are a soft pine, like fresh sprigs in spring sprouting from the highest branches to stretch towards the early sun. You can't move, you feel frozen beneath his gaze, watching the gentle way the light kisses his bold features, the smooth dip of his bow-like mouth, the rough edge of his strong jaw, and the proud bend of his nose.

His arms loosen from around your waist, but he turns you towards him, so you're pressed chest to chest, without looking away from your face. Your hands are pinned between the two of you, resting against his bare chest right over where his heart beats beneath your fingertips.

Ben's green eyes trace your features, dropping to your lips before raising once more to look you in the eye as if he's asking for your permission. You know what he wants, can see it in the way he watches you, and see it in the way that his head tilts towards yours. Your lips tingle in anticipation, your heart beat loud like the thunder in a summer storm that rattles the windows of your grandmother's home. You can't draw a breath because you know if you do it'll be full of him, until all you can do is breathe him in and sink into his body until there's nothing left of you and everything left of Ben.

You're not sure if it's because you're still a little bit sleepy or if it's because Ben is so warm or if it's because all the hard edges of Ben that you've grown accustomed to have smoothed over and all you see is the version that Ben was only around you. The version who sat with you when you had a nightmare and refused to leave, the version who walked you to work every morning, the version who sat with you while you read your book, and the version who seemed to care more than he was willing to admit. But the longer you lay there with him the bigger the urge is to pull him closer.

Your hands smoothly travel up Ben's chest feeling the strength beneath the palms of your hands before you lock them behind his head, tangling loosely in the dark strands of his hair at the nape of his neck.

The apple tree at the end of the couch begins to shed flowers down on both of you and Ben’s eyes flick up to it for just a second before he smiles. It’s the first time you’ve seen him have a smile like that, one that looked so easy, so genuinely happy and you’d be lying if you said that you didn’t think you wanted to make him smile like that all the time.

Ben leans forward to close the distance between the two of you, his lips warm and inviting, his forehead just barely resting against yours, but before your lips touch, your bedroom door opens and slams into the wall with a loud crashing noise that makes you jolt back away from him, breaking the spell.

"Good morning sis!" Darren crows walking in to the room. "Oh sorry, did I interrupt something between you guys?" He wiggles his eyebrows.

"No." Your voice sounds high and squeaky, because he had. You're not sure what would have happened if he hadn't come in, well, you did. Ben was going to kiss you and you wanted him to.

This is getting too complicated.

Ben only frowns at your brother from his position on the couch. The two of you are sitting up now, side by side as if nothing happened, but you can't shake the memory of the warmth of his body soaking into yours as he curved himself around you, almost as if he wished to protect you even when he was asleep.

Is that why he wanted to sleep on the outside?

"Sure." Darren smirks. "Do you have anything to eat around here? Or do you only have all this shitty fruit?" Darren frowns at the raspberry and blackberry vines, the strawberry plant, the apple tree, and the lemon and tangerine trees.

"Oh." You shake off the insult. "There should be some cereal in the cabinet"

"I hope you got the name brand stuff this time."

Maybe I'd be able to afford the name brand stuff if someone stopped coming around and asking me for money.

"If you don't like anything we have, I'd suggest going to the diner across the street." Ben says tightly emphasizing that he lives here now.

"No thanks bro. I'm kinda short on cash these days." Darren replies finding the Lucky Charms cereal and pouring himself the last bowl without a second thought.

"Oh really?" Ben says standing from the couch to glare at your brother. "And what exactly is it that you do Darren?"

Darren leans back against the counter eating his cereal, but you can see the tight way he's gripping the spoon. "I'm an entrepreneur."

"What the fuck does that mean?"

"Ben-" You start to say, unsure as to why Ben was giving your brother a hard time.

"It means that I invest in other opportunities." Darren stabs his cereal with the spoon.

"And if you're so short on cash, how do you do that?" Ben presses.

A dark look passes through Darren's eyes. "What exactly are you getting at?"

"Well you've been here for maybe six hours and the only thing that I've seen you do is break in, take your sister's bed, and insult her." Ben takes a step forward into the living room. "So to me, it kinda looks like you just sit on your ass like a fucking pussy and mooch off of your sister, because you're not man enough to get a real job."

"What the fuck is your problem man?" Darren puts down the bowl. "I don't understand where all this hostility is coming from, but I don't have to explain myself to you. My sister and my relationship is none of your business, and I've been here a lot longer and I'm pretty sure that I'll be here longer than you-"

"Not if I have anything to say about it." Ben growls.

"Whoa wait a second-" You stand up from the couch.

"You have no idea who you're talking to." Darren's voice is low, his eyes leveled on Ben. "You shouldn’t start a fight you can't win."

Ben's lips tilt into a smirk. "Trust me, it's not going to be much of a fight."

"Whoa!" This time you plant yourself between the two of them, one hand resting on Darren's chest. You can feel a deep thrumming buzz coming through the material of his band t-shirt and into your hand and for a moment you're surprised, because your brother wasn't a supe.

Then where is it coming from?

You shake it off. "Let's all just take a nice deep breath."

Ben's eyes are still narrowed at Darren, refusing to back down from a fight, which was like him. And as much as you loved your brother you knew that he tended to have a bad temper, and the last thing you wanted was to clean up the mess when Ben pulled out his spine and reenacted Predator in your small kitchen.

"Ben please." You say it quietly, glancing at where he's towering over the two of you.

You can hear the audible click of his teeth when he unclenches his jaw, his eyes no longer the soft pine they were when you were wrapped in his embrace, but now blaze a dark green. You know that he's about to say something, but Ben's phone rings and continues to ring in the silence, until Ben sighs and turns to pick it up, but he doesn't seem happy about it.

You drop your hand from Darren's chest with a sigh, but happy for the interruption. "Why do you have to be like that?" You ask your brother.

"Me? He started it!" Darren fumes. "Boy, you really know how to pick 'em sis."

"What do you mean? We're not together, we're just friends! And wait, this isn't about him and me. He lives here and if you keep dropping by, you're going to have to be okay with seeing Ben."

"Why can't you just move in with Annie? She's better to look at anyway." Darren rolls his eyes and picks up his bowl of soggy cereal.

Maybe to you. You fight the memory of Ben in the towel still wet from his shower that you witnessed the other day and successfully stop the flush that tries to creep into your cheeks. It's followed again by how wonderful it felt to drag your hands up Ben's chest and catch in the dark strands of his hair. The fruitless tomato plant behind Darren's head begins to swell with bright red tomatoes the size of your fist.

I've got to get that under control.

The memory of Ben figuring out exactly why that happened around you flits through your mind bringing an inescapable wave of embarrassment. The day you'd found it out was when Annie and you were watching Vampire Diaries for the first time in your bedroom back home and as soon as Damon Salvatore walked onto the screen the blueberry bush next to your bed suddenly exploded. Not to mention the first time that your high school boyfriend Newton kissed you in his parent's cornfield, the entire crop suddenly came back tenfold in the middle of winter.

"She's moving in with her boyfriend Hughie." You say, trying not to sound disappointed.

When you first moved to the city, you had wanted to move in with her, but she was apart of the Seven, and when she finally decided to move out of Vought Tower, it was because she wanted to move in with Hughie, not because she wanted to move in with you. It stung the day she told you, and you'd be lying if you said that you were not still a little upset about it, because it felt like she had chosen someone else over you.

"Oh right, that's still going on. Don't know what she sees in that wimp."

"He's sweet. You don’t know him. And I don't know why you’re acting jealous, Annie and you have never gotten along-"

"Because she's a bitch! I can't believe you're still friends with her after all this time."

"Hey don't talk about her that way. Annie is my best friend, practically my sister."

"Right." Darren rolls his eyes again and swings the spoon in a wide arch. "She's always been a bitch and now that she's Starlight she's even worse. She's always had that stick up her ass even when we were kids-"

"If you keep talking about her that way, you can leave." You say simply, feeling your temper begin to flare.

You didn't give a fuck if Darren insulted you or made fun of you, you did however, care if he spoke poorly about Annie. Annie was family to you, Annie had been with you a hell of a lot more than Darren had when you parent's died, she hadn't pulled away from you and vanished into thin air when you needed someone to hold you or when you couldn't sleep or when you woke up screaming or when you couldn't stop crying.

That being said, Annie and Darren had never gotten along, not once in all the years that you'd been friends. Whenever Annie came over, Darren left, and vice versa. You weren't sure why they couldn't get along, but you did think it was infinitely better than Annie being secretly in love with your brother. He never had a lasting relationship in his life that was worth remembering. The longest relationship he'd been in was with his buckled combat boots that he never took off.

Darren lets out an annoyed sigh, but you watch remorse and sympathy drip into his gaze. "Fine. But I just want what's best for you. You know that right?" He puts his hand on your shoulder, his eyes softening. "Come on sis, you know that I'm just looking out for you? I love you, you're the only family I have left that actually cares about me."

Your heart breaks with his words, hurt that he feels like your grandmother doesn't care about him and that he felt like you were the only person in the world that he meant something to. Sure he'd messed up more times than you could count and did occasionally disappear whenever you seemed to need him, but he was your brother.

You sigh. "I know Darren. I'm sorry. I shouldn't have been so mean before."

"It's okay." He glances over to where Ben has just hung up the phone and is glaring at Darren's hand placement on your shoulder. "I guess I should go get dressed."

"Okay."

"But you're coming with me to meet my friend right?" Darren looks at you with a hopeful expression.

"Um... Well I'd have to tell Jake that I'll be a little late." You say slowly not wanting to disappoint Darren. "And I don't really like leaving him high and dry-"

You didn't like calling out from work, in fact you hadn't missed more than a handful of days in the two years that you'd been working there, because you genuinely liked going to work. Being there was like coming home, surrounded by the healing energy of the plants that thrived under your watchful eye.

"Come on the plants will survive without you for an hour or so." Darren smiles. "Do you want me to beg you sissy? I really want you to come with me. It would make me so happy."

"Well, okay." You concede. "Let me just text Jake."

"Yes! I'll be out in a minute and then you can change okay?"

"Sure."

When Darren struts off down the hallway, Ben joins you in the kitchen, glaring at Darren's back as he disappears into your room.

"Who was on the phone?" You ask him while picking up Darren's bowl and scrape the remaining soggy cereal into the trashcan under the sink.

"Butcher." Ben grunts. "Said that he got a lead on the electric supe, but it's all the way in Boston."

"Boston? But that's so far away. Why would he have an operation there and be picking up cars here? He can't be in two places at once."

"No idea, but Butcher said the lead was solid." Ben shrugs. "And he said that he's getting everyone ready to go right now and that I need to get over there so we can get on the road."

"Everyone's going?" You ask disappointed. The thought of the entire team being gone for a few days made you feel lonely. They were kinda like your extended family. You also felt a little left out that Butcher hadn't asked you to go.

"Yeah. Butcher said that he would have asked you to come, but he knows you work most of this week anyway and that he thinks that it'll be alright if you stay here." Ben rubs the back of his neck, but seems hesitant. "Are you going to-" He clears his throat. "Are you going to be okay?"

You didn't miss the way his eyes flick down the hallway to where your brother is.

Is he worried about me?

"Why? You don't want to leave me with Darren or something?" You joke with a snort.

"No."

But Ben looks away when he says it in a way that makes you think that he's lying.

"Believe it or not Darren used to babysit me when I was little and I didn't die or get brain damage-"

"Not to your knowledge."

"Why are you so worried about me?"

"I'm not! I just-" Ben crosses his arms over his chest annoyed. "I don't think you should go meet his friend."

"Why not? I've met plenty of his friends. They're all very dude-bro. At least he has a type."

"I have no idea what that means."

You roll your eyes, before you consider something else. "Wait, are you jealous or something?"

"I am not fucking jealous!" Ben sighs. "I just think that maybe you should use your head Petals."

"What on earth are you talking about?"

"You going to meet his creepy friend without knowing exactly where you're going or what his friend is going to 'make you do'."

"Make me do? Ben where the fuck do you think my brother is taking me? Do you think he's selling me into the sex trade or something?" You look at him incredulously.

Does he really think so lowly of my brother? He'd never do anything like that. Darren cares about me, he's just guarded and a little rough around the edges.

"You're too fucking trusting Petals!” He explodes.

“What? I am not too trusting.”

“Yes you are!”

“No I’m not. And why are you yelling at me? Why are you mad?” You reply in confusion. “I don’t understand why you’re making such a big deal about this. I've met his friends before."

“I’m not mad I’m just fucking trying to-“ Ben clenches his jaw so tight you can see the muscle pop on the side of his face. “You’re just so damn kind and too damn stupid to see what’s directly in front of your face!”

“What the fuck are you talking about?” You plant your hands on your hips staring up at him, not expecting Ben to look so angry, but he does. His arms are folded tightly over his bare chest, his muscles tense, and his eyebrows are pulled together. “Are you really telling me that it’s stupid to trust my brother? He’s my brother! Not some random dude I met on the street-“

“He might as well be! In the fucking five minutes he’s been here he’s been nothing, but be a total dick to you!”

“Oh well excuse me Ben, but I’ve known him for more than the five fucking minutes that you have-“

“Exactly! You should know better!” Ben is getting angrier now and you didn't know where all of this was coming from, especially because of how you'd spent the morning and especially because he was acting differently than he had been the past few days. "You care way to much about other people and you shouldn’t! People like him look for people like you. People who are too stupid to know any better. People who as so trusting and innocent that they take everything at face value."

You stare at him with your mouth open, anger and hurt swirling together to form a cold dagger shoved straight into your heart. You didn't understand why he was doing this or why he was getting so angry.

Oh sweetie, you really thought he cared about you? It's all just an act don't you see? The little voice in your head whispered in your ear.

And it made you furious.

"I am not some innocent little girl Ben. I am a grown woman and I don’t have to listen to your toxic Hemingway Code Hero bullshit." You turn back to the sink prepared to wash out the bowl, but Ben grabs on to your wrist and spins you back to look at him.

"You should listen to me! Because caring about people who don't give a shit about you is going to get you fucking killed or worse!" His grip is tight on your wrist, but not enough to bruise. His skin burns against where his hand wraps around your wrist and you worry how much longer you have until Ben goes Nuclear.

You wrench your wrist from his hand.

"At least I have people who care about me! And yeah, maybe I'm a little trusting, but I'd rather be too trusting than push everyone away before I get a chance to know them." You shout back shoving your finger into his bare chest. "You might think that you're some big strong macho man, but if you actually dropped the fucking macho act and acted like you gave a shit maybe there'd be more people willing to be in your life and willing to care about you! Maybe that's why your entire team collectively said "fuck you" and stabbed you in the back! Maybe that's why Vogelbaum wanted to start from scratch with your fucked up son because they knew you were too much of a asshole to admit that you need someone and didn't have the common decency to give anyone a chance!"

"I don't need anyone." Ben's gaze turns murderous at the mention of Homelander and his old team.

"I think you do, but I think that you try to bury the real you underneath all this bullshit and-"

"You don't know anything about me Petals." Ben growls, taking a step forward so that he's leaning down over you, the air warming with the heat of his anger, a slight glow emanating from the middle of his chest.

The counter is pressed into your back as he pins you there, so differently than the other day you were in the same position.

"You think just because we’ve talked a few times and because I sleep on this fucking couch every night that you know me?" He laughs cruelly. "I'd rather have no one than be saddled with someone like you who struts around like a fucking tease with stars in her eyes trying to romanticize every single damn person she runs into. It's no wonder you haven't found a man to fuck you, because you're too busy chasing after a stupid fantasy version of a man who doesn't fucking exist and latching on to assholes like your brother who do nothing but use you!" Ben's eyes have shifted into the darkened pits again, the ones that seem to be ready to drag you beneath the raging waves.

"And I'd rather have no one than someone like you who's too insecure about his own masculinity that he feels the need to project a fucked up toxic "together" version of himself and pretends to care about other people to manipulate them into getting what he wants." You spit back, your eyes shifting bright green.

Every plant in your home begins to tremble, the energy from them flooding through your body, strengthening you, merging together as they prepare to bend to your will.

Ben's expression turns murderous, his lips pulling back in a snarl, prepared to no doubt spit back something that he'd be unable to take back, but Darren walks back into the kitchen wearing a fresh pair of clothes.

He's oblivious to the conversation that Ben and you just had and drops his arm over your shoulder. “What did I miss?”

You feel your eyes shift back to normal, but the anger and frustration still war in your chest, beating against your rib cage, begging to be unleashed. Ben doesn’t respond instead he only glares at you.

“Alrighty then.” Darren snorts when neither of you fill the silence, not sensing the tension in the air. "Don't worry there Benny, I'll take good care of her. I always do." You miss the glare that Darren throws Ben over your head.

But just for a second you think that Darren may have heard more of the conversation between Ben and you than he was willing to admit.

Ben's jaw is tight, eyes still blazing with his own anger and annoyance. "Do whatever the fuck you want. It's not like a give a shit what happens to her." He states before he stomps down the hallway and slams the bathroom door so loud that all the dishes in your kitchen cabinets shudder.

You weren't expecting those words to hurt as much as they did, but it felt like you had taken a two by four to the chest.

"What's his problem?" Darren asks.

"I don't know." You grumble, because you didn't.

The shift of conversation from Ben almost acting concerned about you going with Darren to him insulting you was giving you whiplash. You didn't understand why Ben had said those things to you, why he had yelled at you for being "too trusting." You didn't think that you were too trusting. It wasn't weak to love someone or care for someone else, but you guessed that was how Ben saw it. You wondered if it was because of what Countess did to him or if it came from his trust of his team or if it was ingrained in him from when he was a child.

Does he really think I'm too trusting? I mean he saw how long it took me to trust him? Or how long it took me to warm up to him? Or I guess, sort of warm up to him?

"Are you going to change?" Darren presses, looking down at your soft shirt and sleep shorts with a frown. "You should. Maybe wear something different than those overalls though. Kinda want you to make a good impression you know?"

"Yeah. Um. I guess I'll go now." You murmur walking down the hallway. For a moment you pause outside of the bathroom where you know Ben is, and you're unsure what he's doing because you don't hear the water running, before you go into your bedroom.

You stand there for a minute, taking in a soothing breath, but it does little to calm your racing heart. The anger and frustration you felt began to crash over you and you feel frustrated tears begin to trail down your cheeks.

You weren't sure if it was what Ben had yelled at you or what you had yelled at him, all you knew was that you were hurt and you were happy that Ben was going out of town for a few days, because you didn't think that you could look at him again, not without throwing him out of your apartment on his ass.

A/N: I know, I know, maybe I'm a little addicted to the drama and the angst. And oh my word slow burns are so hard, but I promise that I do have a plan of when the two of them do finally get together and it IS GLORIOUS.

As always thank you so much for reading! If you'd like to be added to the taglist for this series please let me know :)

Taglist:

@roseblue373 @mrsjenniferwinchester @corruptedcruiser @winchesterwild78 @the-super-who-locked-wizard

@criminalyetminimal @52ndstreeet @bitchykittenconnoisseur @anna6307 @libby99hb

@faephoria @possiblyafangirl @jqtaro @quietlybitchy @tinydancer40

@roger-that-cap @megara0224 @miskwaadesiwag @rainyeggvoidpurse

@soldiergrimes @tiffsbagels @podiumackles

@ifyouwerethemoon @ririshkin @peachhiz @fitxgrld @sukunassfinger

@xx-spooky-little-vampire-xx @ej13928 @deans-spinster-witch @kr804573 @modiddys-blog

@acciosherlockholmes @minas-fantasies @fireskyy

@n-o-p-e-never @nesnejwritings @am0rem @tpwkcalli @momggn

@fitxgrld @whimsicalcherry @ladysparkles78

@spxideyver @zepskies @impala67stellawinchester

@reidtomewinchester

#soldier boy x reader #soldier boy x you #jensen ackles #soldier boy #soldier boy x female reader #jensen ackles soldier boy #soldier boy/ben #the boys amazon #the boys fanfic #soldier boy x y/n #soldier boy fic #soldier boy fanfiction

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aajjks · 2 years ago

Text

Taste (m)

synopsis. He loves your taste so much.

pairing. yandere!bunny hybrid jungkook x fem!owner noona!reader.

warnings. MDNI. YANDERE, EXPLICIT THEMES, fingering, lots of praise, he’s such a tease, and needy af, soft dirty talk, soft smut, obsessive koo, he’s kinda a whore but… confused noona, marking, unhealthy possessive behaviour, he’s so obsessed.

disclaimer. Please do not romanticise this topic/behaviour, this is purely fictional. I do not condone this behaviour irl!!

note. I hate myself. Send bunny koo asks? share feedback? Remember that I suck at writing smut, sorry jungkook plz forgive me xx. not edited btw.

You love Jungkook with all your heart.

There is no doubt in your heart that you don’t, he’s the only one you’ve loved so much enough to look past his flaws.

He is not perfect, at all. Your bunny boyfriend is far from perfect or normal.

He’s obsessive, unhealthily dependent and possessive.

But he’s the only one that’s ever loved you with his whole heart. He’s the only one that’s loved every single part of yours.

Every flaw and every perfection.

You don’t know why. You can never understand why he loves you so much, his love burns for you hotter than the sun.

He is so in love with you it hurts.

“I love you so much.” He says it again, his eyes make your heart pound, the brown orbs filled to the brim with intensity, his eyes are fixated on your face.

Your throat escapes a trembling breath as he confesses, the room is so quite, you feel so hot, he has you in his arms.

“Noona, I love so much.” He says it again and again, kissing you so deeply, swallowing away your breath, you can’t feel anything but him, his love, his passion.

It overwhelms you.

But he’s such a gentle lover. His kiss is passionate, but you can feel his vulnerability, you know that he’s scared to loose you.

Jungkook dives into the kiss deeper and caresses your naked flesh, his fingers feel so warm, you close your eyes and feel him.

His touch burns on your skin, you can never get used to it.

But it’s so addictive. The way he touches you. He knows your body, your heart, your mind better than your own self.

And you know that’s scary.

His fingers play with your sensitive spot and you whimper, “just relax, noona.” He whispers in your ears, his fingers feel so warm inside you, you cannot relax.

It feels so good.

“Just let me love you.” He almost begs,

nuzzling his face in your neck, you feel his breathing shaking, “F-Fuck… you’re caging my fingers in.”

He fastens his pace and you moan, his teeth graze your neck and he sinks them in. “You-You feel so good around my fingers, noona.”

He’s filthy, absolutely shameless as the way he teases you, he’s breathing so hard, you can hear him so clearly, he bites hard onto your neck.

Sucking onto the spot so it’ll leave a huge mark.

“Mine…” he mutters to himself, you feel your toes curl, “gotta mark you up…” he’s so lost in his own thoughts, it’s like his personality shifted.

“God…” he cries suddenly, “‘could fuck you with my fingers forever, noona.”

“Are you going to cum?” He asks you, you feel your mind freeezing.

Yes.

Your hips buckle but you fail to give him a response, only mewling at the pleasure.

“‘s okay, come on, pretty girl.” He doesn’t need to hear a yes from you.

“My good girl… my pretty noona. Y-Yeah that’s it!” He sounds so drunk, feeling you come has his own pants tightening so much more painfully.

You’re such a goddess.

“O-Oh my God.” He gushes, pulling his fingers out, you can’t help but whine, the cold air hits your body and you want him.

You need him so bad.

“K-Kookie…” you cry softly,

He lifts his head up from your neck, whilst pressing butterfly kisses on your shoulder.

“You did so good, noona!” He grabs your face and lifts his hands up.

You see his glistening fingers and you feel yourself getting embarrassed.

“You see that?” He asks you, a wild look in his orbs, he looks like a feral animal, you feel so small under his predatory gaze.

You are unable to respond, a shocked gasp leaves you when you see him put his digits into his own mouth. He laps onto the liquid like his life depends on it.

You feel yourself getting aroused once again, he drives you so insane.

“H-How…” he moans, his eyes are rolling back. “How can you taste so good noona?”

He stops sucking onto his fingers and looks at you once again, caging your body in as he climbs on top of you, your body falls back onto the mattress.

You know he wasn’t going to let you go.

You didn’t want him to.

“Wan’you to taste your heavenly self noona.” He doesn’t wait for your response once again and pushes his lips so hard onto yours.

He moans into your mouth, you can taste yourself on his tongue.

You grab his hair and pull on it. His dark wavy locks are so soft, Jungkook enjoys it, moaning into your mouth in encouragement.

He grabs the blankets avd covers both of your bodies, finally disconnecting your lips.

He pants hard, “you’re so fucking addictive noona.” He cries, “n-need to fuck you so hard..” he kisses your throat.

“N-Need you to cum on my cock.”

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idkwhatever580 · 8 months ago

Text

Her pt. 1

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Pairings: Natasha romanoff x reader

Prompt: natasha meets y/n while undercover at a soup kitchen. What happens when hydra gets mixed in?

Warnings ⚠️: cursing, some angst, mentions of blood and gunshot, getting beat up? Tell me if there’s any more!!

Pronouns: she/her

A/N: guys this one is really long 😭 idk how many words tho. Idk how to find that out. Make sure to tell me if you like it and follow if you want to see my next post. (Idk when it will go up but I think I’m gonna do a part two)-> https://www.tumblr.com/idkwhatever580/749925326055948288/her-pt-2

Natasha’s Pov

Ugh. This is so stupid. I hate this room.

Fury thinks it is a good idea for us to stay in a stupid rinky dink motel to keep our identities safe.

I think it’s bullshit. The least he can give us is a days inn. But noooo we gotta stay in a one star motel that stinks and has horrible water pressure.

I look over at Clint and glare. He smirks at me and says

“Why the long face?”

I sneer and say

“You know exactly why. We’re stuck in this dump for another month!”

He chuckles and says

“We’ve already been here a month. What’s one more? I honestly think this place is growing on me”

I roll my eyes and say

“Of course you would end up liking this shithole.”

He comes over and nudges my shoulder and says

“Hey! Think about it this way. You get to see her for another month.”

I narrow my eyes at him when he puts on a cheeky grin.

I scoff and brush it off like normal. But Clint knows. He knows me. He knows that I like her.

Her.

I could think about her all day if I tried.

You see, Clint and I are on an undercover mission to investigate a possible hydra meeting place. We’ve been eating at this soup kitchen for weeks. Acting like we’re homeless so we can get info. Normally I would hate this job. And I do don’t get me wrong, but there’s this one volunteer. Her name is y/n.

Y/n.

Doesn’t that just roll right off your tongue? I wish she’d roll right on my tongue.

I shake my head to void myself of these thoughts. But it’s all in vain. She is so pretty.

Her smile is bright. Albeit her teeth might not be perfect but I think it makes her even better. She makes this whole thing bearable.

Her sweet face, and quirky remarks make me almost blush.

Almost.

Clint snaps in front of my face and I look up at him and he says

“Did you hear a single thing I said?”

I shake my head even though I want to say yes. Whatever he said could have been important.

He sighs and says

“Well. I’m going to take a shower. And try to see if the water actually heats up this time. If not. I’ll still be in there a while. I gotta take a shit. So if you need to use the bathroom I suggest you go now or forever hold your peace”

I chuckle a bit and shake my head and he grabs his towel and says

“Alright. Have fun thinking about y/n”

He goes off and I lie back on the bed. It creaks but I don’t care anymore. All I can think about is her.

I don’t know who she is. She seems well off. But she’s not mean. No. What mean person would willingly volunteer at a soup kitchen?

She is so tender. Always making sure all the homeless people get their fair share and if she thinks someone is looking a little skinny one day she’ll give them a bit more.

She always gives me a bit more. Then says she put too much. Clint thinks it’s just to see me a bit more. I think she’s just a bit tired by the time I get in line.

Her.

God. It’s only been a month and her beauty floods my senses. I remember the first time she hugged me.

She smelled like oranges and cupcakes.

She always stayed and sat with all the homeless people. Making sure to update herself on their lives.

Clint and I stay longer though. So she ends up talking to me. He kind of acts closed off. So that he can always be on guard.

He knows my senses are being let down by her. And he’s okay with it. I wish I wasn’t.

She talks of her life a lot. And I sometimes think I see her look at my lips but I shake it away and try to forget that telling myself I imagined it.

By the time I’m done day dreaming of her today, Clint comes out and says

“One. Do NOT go in there. And two. Let’s get ready to go”

I sigh and smile a bit. I know I’m gonna get to see her. I put on my ‘homeless attire’ and we leave the building.

We walk into the soup kitchen along with some of the others who are nice. I look around and my eyes zero in on y/n’s normal spot. I see her and she sees me at the same time

She smiles excitedly and waves at all of us but her eyes linger on me. I wave back shyly.

We go up and she portions our food while asking how everyone’s day has been.

When it’s my turn she portions my food and hands it to me and then says

“Oh! I think I gave you a bit too much. Here let me fix it.”

She brushes her hand across mine and for the first time. I blush.

I blush

Crap. I blushed.

Thankfully she doesn’t notice. But I know.

She hands it back to me and says “there you go sweets”

I smile shyly but I’m screaming inside. I thank y/n and scurry off to my undesignated designated spot. Clint sits by me and says

“Did you?”

I slap him in the arm and say

“Shut up Barton or I’ll kill you”

He giggles and hops away from me to eat his food.

After a while y/n comes up to me and says

“Hey girl! I finally finished the portions. Wanna talk?”

She always asks if I want to talk and I always nod my head. She sits down and start yapping while I smile and listen to it all. At some point she says

“My mom and I always had this deal. That if I ever sent a message to her with a lowercase x at the end, that means I am in danger. Thank goodness I never had to use it though.”

She quickly moves on to another topic just as fast as she got to the previous. I try to keep up with her.

As the soup kitchen closes for the day around 3 and we all leave. I leave with a smile on my face.

God she’s so pretty.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

I wake up in bed and smile. I look over at my alarm clock and realize I have only about thirty minutes left to get ready for the soup kitchen.

I hop out of bed and Clint smirks and says

“You’ve never slept that long. You good?”

I roll my eyes and say

“Fuck off”

We quickly leave for the soup kitchen and I walk in and look for y/n. My eyebrows furrow when she’s not in her normal spot.

I go over to Calvin, the soup kitchen owner and say

“Hey. Is y/n here today?”

He shakes his head and says

“No. Surprisingly she sent me a text this morning saying she’s not gonna make it. Look”

Calvin turns his phone towards me and I read the message.

Y/n Y/l/n

Hey! I’m so sorry this is last minute but I can’t come in today. Hopefully I’ll see you tomorrow! x

My eyes widen and I say

“Oh. Okay. Thanks Calvin.”

I quickly walk to Clint who is eagerly waiting in line for his food. I whisper to him.

“We need to go. Y/n is in danger.”

He looks at me confused and says

“What? You heard Calvin. He said she said she was fine.”

I shake my head and only now does Clint realize I am being serious.

“Aww but I just got to the front of the line”

Clint whines and pouts and I say

“If I let you grab this you better get a to go box. And hurry”

In a stern voice. He nods his head and gets his food quickly.

We head back to the motel. I pull out my emergency bag and grab the laptop. I’m only supposed to go online in emergencies and I dictate this as one.

I explain to Clint what is wrong and he nods his head in agreement. Y/n has never missed a day of the soup kitchen. Even when she was so tired she looked dead.

I quickly power it on and start looking into her socials.

It’s a wonder I haven’t looked her up until now. It’s actually a wonder that I haven’t even heard of her. She’s popular.

She’s a famous artist. Actress and Singer/songwriter. Her name is Y/n y/m/n y/l/n. She’s 24. Only three years younger than me. She acts in some really popular movies. Of course I never have watched them. Or else I would have probably recognized her. She writes and sings a bit. But not much.

I start digging deeper. I look at her most recent posts and I see that she posted on Instagram about the same time that she sent the message to Calvin.

I read the post and it’s a cute picture of her. From yesterday. That’s the outfit she wore and she took a quick selfie in it.

She added a paragraph and I scour it intensely.

Hey guys! I know I don’t do this a lot but I whant to come on heere and thank you for your dedication tol me. I’m so excited to have hit fifty milliopn follmowers on Instageram. It’sh truly an hyonor to be lovedd by so rmany of youa. xoxo x

I see how she has a bunch of misspelled words and I put two and two together. The misspellings put together make out a sentence.

Help me hydra x

I look back at Clint and he says

“Damn. That was easy. She’s smart.”

All the comments are either fawning over her or bullying her for having so many misspellings but I know. She’s communicating to me. To anyone who notices. And I am the person right now.

Thankfully, the hydra people are fucking stupid. And I’m highly trained in coding. So I am able to track her phone easily.

I pinpoint it at the soup kitchen. And then Clint grabs my shoulder and says.

“The back room. Y/n always talked about Calvin chilling in a back room that she caught a glimpse of once. She said it looked scary.”

I widen my eyes and my shoulders tense up say

“You think they’re stupid enough to keep her there?”

He nods his head and I shake mine and say

“Well. There’s no harm in trying. And we might get our mission done faster if we’re right.”

I quickly put on my suit as Clint puts his on in the bathroom. He walks up with his bow and arrow at the ready and he says.

“You ready?”

I nod my head stiffly and we hop in the run down car that we are only allowed to use in emergencies. Once again we both dictate this an emergency.

Clint drives as I map out a plan outloud.

“Okay. So we’re gonna split up. You go in the front. I’ll go in the back. See what we can find. I know our mission is to get intel but if y/n doesn’t make it out alive I’m gonna burn the whole city down.”

Clint chuckles a bit with his signature smile on and I raise my eyebrow and say

“What?”

He shakes his head and says,

“Well, it’s just- you really like this girl huh? I mean burning the city down is a pretty big thing to do. And that’s kind of odd for you. I didn’t think you’d be the type.”

I scoff and cross my arms and say

“We need to focus on the mission. And not the fact that I may or may not be down bad.”

He chuckles once more and then pulls into a spot away from the soup kitchen.

I run to the back and Clint runs to the front once we solidify our plan and then we both easily break in. The soup kitchen is usually open in case there is a homeless person who desperately needs shelter. Like if there’s a storm or something. Thankfully though Clint tells me through comms that there’s no one inside.

“I’m in”

I say when I pick the lock. I frown when I realize that this is gonna be an easy feat. I know not to let my guard down. Just in case.

I hear a crackle when the comms come on and Clint says,

“Hey nat… you’re gonna want to see this”

I put my finger on my earpiece and say,

“Did you find y/n?”

“No, but I found the intel we were definitely looking for. And a lot more.”

I frown and say,

“Okay put it on a drive then come find me. I’m in the west wing. Call a quinjet to pick us up.”

——————————————————————————

Nobody’s pov

Clint downloads the files to a usb drive and he kind of freezes for a moment as he sees the files of horrifying victims flow into it. There’s footsteps headed his way and he pulls out his arrows and prepares to shoot someone.

One set of footsteps quickly becomes about four and something he can quite pin he takes a breath prepared to fight.

The doors open so fast he doesn’t even have time to blink before he is shooting his arrows. He quickly downs four of them but he knows there’s a fifth.

He slowly looks around the area they came in and moves around the desk only to find a shaking ball of a human. He squats down and says

“Y/n?”

So softly she might not have heard it. She snaps her head up and says

“Cliff?”

She sniffles when she says his code name and he holds his hand out for her and says.

“It’s Clint. I know this is confusing and scary but we’ve got to find Natasha and get you out of here before anything else happens okay?”

She nods her head and says

“Is Natalie Natasha?”

Clint nods his head and presses his earpiece to tell Natasha that they’re done.

Natasha huffs and says

“Wow you just have to take all the credit huh?”

Clint giggles a bit and then grabs the full usb drive and starts walking out carefully. He looks back at y/n and says

“Are you coming or not?”

She is shaking and says,

“Uh. I- I think I can’t walk”

Clint finally realizes that she has a bullet in her thigh and it’s bleeding a bit but thankfully not enough to kill her. At least for now. He sighs and says,

“Alright. I’m gonna pick you up and we’re gonna fly to New York for a bit to get you healed.”

She nods her head and we head off.

Once Clint gets everyone on the quinjet y/n passes out.

“Fuck”

——————————————————————————

Y/n’s pov

I wake up in a hospital bed. I open my eyes a bit just to close them immediately. You’d think that they would turn the lights down or something.

I groan a bit and someone is at my side. I don’t even want to see who it is. I just want to get back to my home.

Which is what got me into this situation in the first place.

——————————————————————————

(Kind of flashback?)

I walked out of the soup kitchen. Everyone had left and I locked the door. I decided to walk there today so I started my trek back home. And then I realized I left my phone. So I went back and unlocked the door.

Calvin was in there. I assume he is just restocking or something and I say hi and asked if he has seen my phone.

He dangles it in front of my face and then puts a gun to my head.

Shit

He says I need to make a text to send to him so that nobody from the soup kitchen worries about me and then make a post so that my fans don’t think anything of my absence.

At this point. I probably won’t be making it out.

Yes I’m famous. And yes I have a lot of caring fans.

But nobody knows me well enough to even think of me. And by the time someone does. I’ll probably be dead.

He walks me to the back room that I’ve only seen once. Damn. I knew this was sketch.

His grip on my hands is so tight.

I didn’t even realize I have tears streaming down my face until he says

“Quit your whimpering. If you get us caught you’re dead”

I look up at him and say

“Us? There’s more?”

He scoffs and says

“Of course there’s more of us. Hydra doesn’t do loners. We’re not dumb enough. Now shut up or I’ll kill you and everyone else you’ve ever loved. Including your little Natalie”

That shut me up real quick.

Fuck my life.

He throws me in a cell and beats me up. I have so many cuts and bruises already.

He left me about an hour ago and now I’m just laying here on the concrete. By my calculations the soup kitchen will open in about 8 hours. Hopefully Natalie notices I’m gone.

She notices everything.

I know she’s homeless and I’m not but part of me wants to take her with me. Give her a new life.

Make her mine.

But she doesn’t like me like that. And that wouldn’t be fair to the other homeless people who have been here even longer.

Gran says I’m head over heels and I should court her. But she’s also a bit crazy.

But then again pops says she likes me back. And although pops is like never wrong, there’s always a first time for everything. I’m not so sure though.

God how am I thinking of her at a time like this? I’m actually daydreaming about a silly little (not so little) crush of mine while my life is at stake. Well, I have nothing else to do. So thinking about her it is.

Her

She’s so beautiful. Even when she has dirt all over her and her clothes look like they need more than just a little stitching and washing.

Natalie

It’s a pretty name but it honestly doesn’t fit her quite right. I just don’t know what other name would though.

Meh. I’m probably just being weird.

By the time I am finished thinking about her I fall asleep and I wake up and calculate it is already morning. Thank god. My calculations are confirmed when one of the guards brought me food for some reason. I ask him

“What time is it?”

He says,

“I’m not supposed to talk to you but it’s 10:46 am”

I nod my head and thank him.

I scarf the food down so I can hopefully get as much energy before they take it away from me. Maybe I’ll be able to stay alive longer.

After I’m finished Calvin walks in and says

“What do you know about Natalie?”

I frown and say

“Why?”

“You’re very close to her. And i want info on her. If you tell me everything you know I’ll let you go”

I consider my options. But clearly they want her info for something. I don’t want her to be in danger. She’s strong yes. But she’s also homeless. Nobody to care for her. And I don’t want her to die on my watch. I wouldn’t be able to live with myself if one of my favorite people died because of me. Hoe selfish would that be.

So I say the bare minimum.

“I don’t actually know much about her. I usually do all the talking.”

He kicks me. Ouch.

“I think her favorite color is red. And her favorite food is whatever I cook. At least that’s what she says.”

Another kick. Ow.

Calvin gets a bit mad and says.

“The soup kitchen is about to open. I’m gonna go get the food prepared and you’re going to think about every little thing she’s ever told you. And about that cliff dude too.”

I glare at him and say

“He never talks. You think I know anything? I’m just a stupid girl.”

He sneers and says

“If you don’t come up with anything good you better kiss your little girlfriend goodbye.”

I frown and curl into a ball as he leaves.

I mumble

“She’s not my girlfriend.”

What can I find that will seem plausible that isn’t true about her.

——————————————————————————

Time jump to after soup kitchen closes and Calvin comes back.

“Tell me everything you know bitch”

I spit at him and say

“I don’t know anything about them”

He gets really angry at that and he kicks me in the head.

I’m shaking really bad already. That’s gonna hurt way worse later. If I make it to later.

After more and more berating he finally has enough and pulls out a gun. I cry and sob and say

“Pl- please no. Calvin you’re better than this! It’s okay I won’t tell anyone! I promise just let me go. Please”

I beg but he doesn’t give in. He points the gun at me and shoots.

It hits me in my thigh and I scream. I scream and I scream and he says

“Shut up bitch. Nobody can hear you. They won’t hear you when you scream.”

I cry but I quiet down. Clearly there’s no point in using my voice. I’m just gonna die anyways.

Suddenly there’s a guard running to Calvin and he whispers something to him. Calvin looks at me and says

“Get up bitch. You’re coming with us”

Three more guards come and pick me up and start marching me away from whatever it is they’re scared of. They open a door and then I fall on the ground. They dropped me for some reason but I don’t care. I curl up into a ball and then a soft voice calls my name.

I look up and say

“Cliff?”

——————————————————————————

And that’s how I ended up here.

I’m in a hospital bed. Somewhere. Probably safe.

I finally open my eyes and see Natalie. Well. Natasha.

That name fits her better. Now I know why I felt that way. She’s still so pretty.

But she’s in a black catsuit. It shows off her curves. I look away because I don’t want to objectify her or anything.

She smiles and says

“You’re awake”

I can tell that she wants to say something else but doesn’t know if she can.

I look at her and say.

“Yeah. What happened?”

“Well. You obviously know you were kidnapped by hydra.”

I nod my head and don’t let her finish. I’m clearly hurt when I say

“Why did you lie to me?”

She sighs and says.

“I’m sorry. You have every right to be mad at me. I lied because I am an avenger. We’re in New York City at the avengers tower. I can take you home as soon as you’re cleared. But for now I’m going to explain okay?”

I nod my head and let her speak.

“Since I am an avenger and a highly ranked spy, I sometimes have to go on missions undercover. My name is Natasha romanoff. My alias’ are Natalie rushman, black widow and others. I was recently undercover with my friend and coworker Clint Barton. His alias’ are cliff barren and Hawkeye.”

She pauses and then continues

“We were looking to find intel. We had a hint that hydra, the people that took you, were there. Thankfully you were able to send a message out before they took you. They’re dumb. So I tracked you the second I knew you were in danger.”

I frown and say

“So you lied about not knowing who I was?”

She shook her head and says

“I only found out who you were after you sent that message. Because I looked you up on my emergency computer. So no. I didn’t lie about that. Y/n you are very brave and strong. Most people wouldn’t have made it out of there. Most people didn’t.”

I nod my head and say

“So. How long have I been out?”

“About a day and a half. Clint and I went to the soup kitchen the past two days to make sure everyone was okay. It’s under new management already. She’s nice. Her name is Mary. We cleared out hydra and everything and everyone at the soup kitchen is okay.”

I nod my head and say

“That’s good.”

I frown and say

“What now?”

She sighs and sits down and says

“Well. You have a few options after you’re cleared. Continue on with life and forget all about us. Or, we can create a new safe soup kitchen and you can start creating houses for the homeless. Give them new opportunities. Get some of them into rehab. Follow your dream. Fully paid of course, courtesy of Tony Stark and SHEILD considering you helped us get one of the biggest bouts of information in a very short amount of time.”

My eyes light up and I say

“Wait… you… you listened to me when I was talking?”

Natasha nods her head and says

“I don’t know if you noticed but I notice everything. When you talked about your dreams of retiring as an actress to help the needy, it was so moving. It’s a good dream. And I want to help you achieve it.”

I sit up carefully and say

“I’m so excited I could just kiss you!”

I realize what I said and then say

“Oh shit. I didn’t- I don’t- I didn’t mean that”

Natasha says

“Really? Because I would have done it if you did mean it.”

I widen my eyes and point at her a little dumbfounded and say

“You- you wanna- I-l”

She smirks and walks up to my hospital bed and leans into me. She stops just before to silently ask permission and I nod my head.

She presses her lips softly into mine and they’re softer than clouds. She pulls away softly and I giggle like a school girl and say

“I’ve wanted to do that for a while.”

Natasha raises her eyebrow and says

“Even when I was covered in dirt and smelled like shit?”

I shrug my shoulders and say

“I think it adds to your charm. You’re a cutie”

We hear a chuckle from the doorway and Clint walks in. He smirks and says

“I don’t think anyone has ever called Natasha romanoff a cutie and made it out alive.”

Natasha rolls her eyes and says

“I don’t know what you’re talking about. Nobody called me anything”

I giggle and say.

“Natasha?”

She immediately looks at me and I say

“Do you think I can really do that homeless shelter?”

She nods her head and says

“I know you can.”

I smile realizing a whole new chapter of my life is about to start. And it’s gonna be great.

All because of her

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

A/N: whew!! Damn that was long. I hope y’all liked it!!! Please tell me if there are any warnings I missed. I think I’m gonna do a part two of the next chapter in y/n’s life. I really just write whatever I’m thinking about lol. My anons are in fact open. I don’t have too many requirements. But expect to have a happy ending lol I’m so sappy 🤷‍♀️🩷

#avengers #fanfic #marvel #natasha romanoff #natasha romanoff x reader #natasha x reader

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kaleldobrev · 1 year ago

Text

What Are We?

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Fem!Reader

Summary: Dean and you do a lot of couple things together but yet…you’re not a couple, and you often wonder why.

Original Prompt: Requested by anonymous | Hey! How are ya? I don’t know if you write for chubby reader but if you’re comfortable with that then could you write something about dean and reader being in a situationship and the reader thinks he doesn’t wanna date her cause of how she looks and he confesses that he actually likes her? You can change it however you want. Thank you so much!

Word Count: 2.1k

Warnings: Cursing (2x), Angst, Fluff, Talks of body "issues"

Authors Note: Thanks for the request anon friend! Of course I’ll write it. I don’t discriminate and neither would Dean 👌🏻 | As a girlie who has a slight muffin top myself, I loved this prompt <3 | If you liked this, don’t forget to like & reblog. I really appreciate it! Feedback is always welcome ♡

Situationship (noun): a romantic or sexual relationship that is not considered to be formal or established.

This was the type of relationship that you've had with Dean for the past several months. At first, it was something that you were okay with because you thought that maybe it would eventually turn into something more. As you felt that if he liked you enough to sleep with you, make out with you, and basically do everything a "normal" couple does, then why wouldn't he eventually want to make things official with you down the road? But it's been months, and there's been remotely no talks about making things exclusive, and you were really starting to wonder why.

Exclusivity was a word that you wouldn't use to describe Dean, but it was something that you wanted with him, wanted with him because he was the one person that you could genuinely see yourself being with. But at this point, based on the current situation that the two of you were in, you were afraid that he didn't actually want to be with you, that he was just using you until he had found someone better...found someone that was his usual toothpick thin type that he tended to go for, which wasn't your body type.

When it came to your body type, it was something that you had a love/hate relationship with. You weren't the thinnest girl in the world, but you still liked the way you looked, as you believed the muffin top you had was just something more to love. And at this point in your situationship, you didn't think Dean minded either, as he would always trail kisses along your stomach, telling you how beautiful you were, and how perfect you were. Complimenting how much he loved your thick thighs as he gripped them. But at the same time, that talk seemed to never leave the comforts of the Bunker; and if it did, it stayed strictly around your mutual friends. The hand holding and kisses would cease as soon as the two of you would leave the Bunker, and you couldn't help but think that he was embarrassed to be seen with you, be seen as someone that he was romantic with.

That's why you were confused, confused about what was actually going on between the two of you. He would constantly tell you how beautiful you were and hold your hand, and do those types of things in front of Sam, Jack, Cas, Jodi, Donna, but would never do these things in public. You were good enough to sleep with, but yet you weren't good enough to be considered his girlfriend?

You walked down the hall, a few books in hand as you made your way to the War Room. But you were stopped when you heard Dean call your name from his bedroom as you walked past. You turned around quickly, and went back to stand in his doorway. “What’s up Dean?” You asked.

“You didn’t say hi to me when you walked past,” he stated, flipping to the next page in his book.

To be honest, you did see him, and normally, you would have said hi to him, maybe chatted for a little bit until you eventually made your way into the War Room. But today, because of what was on your mind, you didn't really want to speak to him until you were sure about how you were going to handle this situationship between the two of you. “Oh, sorry,” you apologized.

“You okay Sweetheart? You seem distracted today,” he stated closing his book.

“I’m always like this,” you said. He got up from his bed and started making his way toward you.

“No, you’re not actually. Your voice is different, and your body language tells me other wise,” he said. “So, what’s up?”

“Very Sherlock of you,” you said. “I’m fine honestly.”

He looked at you with slight disbelief. “Y/N, we've been friends long enough for me to tell when you're lying." There it was. Friends. He used the word friends. You weren't sure if you should be relieved or disappointed.

“Yeah…friends,” you repeated the word.

“Are we not…friends?” He seemed hurt by your usage of the word, which caused you even more confusion.

“Honestly, I don’t know what we are,” you admitted, and you didn't expect those words of yours to come out like that.

He cocked a brow. “What do you mean? Did I do something?” As long as Dean could recall, he hadn't done anything to have hurt you as of late. He tried to recollect everything that he had done or said to you over the last couple of days, and he was honestly coming up with nothing; but there must of be something, as you would have never said something like that to him if there wasn't at least something wrong.

“No, no, you did nothing wrong I’m just…” you sighed. “I’m confused that’s all.”

“What are you confused about?” He asked.

“Do you mind if I came in and we closed the door?” You asked, and he nodded. He felt himself get nervous just as much as you were starting to feel the same. Holding your books in your hand you walked inside and Dean shut the door behind you. Setting your books on his table the two of you sat on the edge of his bed. You had no idea where to start, as you thought you'd have more time to figure out this conversation in your head. “I’m confused about what we are.”

“What do you mean?” He seemed genuinely concerned.

"What this is between us. You say that we're friends, but we have sex, make out, more often than not sleep in the same bed together, do everything normal couples do but yet...you say that we're friends."

"If you don't want us doing any of that anymore that's...fine," he said, but Dean wasn't remotely fine with stopping what was going on between the two of you, because he loved being able to just crawl into your bed at night and just kiss you and hold you in his arms.

You sighed in frustration, as he seemed to completely ignore the point you were trying to make. "That's not what I'm saying Dean. What I'm saying is, well, I'm more like asking really." You took a deep breath, and you felt your heart start to race, slightly afraid to ask what you were about to ask. "If I'm good enough to sleep with and do couple things with, why am I not good enough to be your girlfriend?"

Dean honestly didn't know what to say to you. Well, he did, but he knew that it was a poor excuse of an answer, an answer that he knew that you weren't going to believe even though it was true. All he wanted was to be with you, exclusively be with you (which he essentially already was). But he was afraid, afraid that the second the two of you mutually agreed to be together and only together, that you'd eventually realize pretty quickly how disappointing of a person that he was, that the novelty of him would somehow wear off. "It's cause I'm not thin right?" You asked.

Your question caught him off guard, honestly annoyed that you would say that was the reason he didn't want to be exclusive with you. He honestly didn't understand why you had thought that was the reason, as he thought that he had made it pretty clear how beautiful he thinks you are inside and out. But, apparently he hasn't been doing a good of job as he thought he had been. "What? Y/N, that's not the reason," he stated, his voice slightly annoyed.

"Then what is the reason Dean? I mean, that's honestly the only reason I can think of. Well, that or...you're embarrassed by me," you said, your voice getting lower.

“I’m not embarrassed by you Y/N, you know that,” he said.

"If you're not embarrassed by me, then why won't you hold my hand in public?" You asked. "Because, it's just weird to me you know? I mean, you have no issue telling me how beautiful I am in front of Donna, Sam, Jack. You have no problem kissing me in front of Claire or Cas. But the second we aren't around any of those people, the second we are outside of the Bunker, you want nothing to do with that with me anymore." Your voice was about to break, as all you wanted to do was just not have this conversation anymore; you just wanted to crawl into bed under the covers.

Dean knew you had a point, and he could fully admit to everything that you had just said. He did only hold your hand, or kiss you, or tell you how beautiful you were when they were in the presence of friends or family, but it was because he could be vulnerable in front of them; he wasn't afraid to be vulnerable in front of them, but he was afraid to be vulnerable in front of people he didn't know, afraid that they were somehow going to use the love he had for you against him, and it was something he didn't want to risk. "I'm sorry," he began finally, and you raised a brow at his response. "I'm not embarrassed by you Y/N, not at all. And the reason I'm not with you, with you isn't because I don't think you're skinny enough," he hated saying those words. "Honestly, it fucking breaks my heart that you think that's the reason because I think I do a pretty good job at telling you how beautiful you are," he said, taking your hand. "And it's not just bedroom talk. I honestly think you're so fucking beautiful."

"Even with my muffin top?" You asked, slight amusement in your voice, but you were still serious in your question.

"It's just more of you for me to love," he said.

"When you mean love..." you trailed off. "See, now I'm more confused."

He sighed. "I know what I'm about to say is something that you're not going to believe, but it's the truth," he took a deep breath before he continued. "Not only do I think you're too good for me, but I'm afraid that someone will use what we have together against me somehow, against us somehow. And...I can't...I can't risk that." I love you too much, he wanted to say.

"So, you're telling me the reason you don't hold my hand in public is because you're afraid some demon or something will see that and then use it against us?" You asked, clarifying. "Dean." You wanted to not believe him, but you did, and you hated that this was the reason. You hated that because he was so afraid of losing you, losing what the two of you have, that he didn't want to even hold your hand outside of the Bunker walls.

"I know you don't believe me Sweetheart," he said, his voice sounding slightly sad.

"I do Dean I just..." you sighed. "You know I can take care of myself right? How many times have you seen me take on two, three, four creatures at time and only had a single scratch?" You took his other hand. "Dean, I genuinely want to be with you if you want to be with me. I know you're afraid that you're going to lose me but, newsflash, I'm afraid of losing you too. That's...that's just what life is Dean. It's just more of a reason to go for it, because...we might not always be here."

Dean knew you were right, you were always right. And to your point, it was something that he hated, but he couldn't help but find himself agreeing with. He would rather have a little bit of time with you than nothing at all, because at least he would have some memories of the good times you had together, instead of the constant, "What if's?"

"Dean, I love you," you said. "You're the only person I want to be with okay?" You leaned in, and so did he, mere inches away from each other's lips.

"Love you too Sweetheart," he replied back. He leaned in fully now, meeting his lips to yours.

"Does this mean we're together? Like you'll actually hold my hand in public or is that still off the table?" You whispered.

Dean grinned. "I'll grab your ass in public if you want me to," he winked, and you felt yourself slightly blush at his comment.

The two of you knew that the newfound relationship wasn't going to be easy, but it was something that the two of you were willing to fight for.

Tag List: @roseblue373 @beansproutmafia @queenie32 @deanwanddamons @missy420-0 @jackles010378 @mrsjenniferwinchester @syrma-sensei @k-slla @justletmereadfanfic @deans-daydream If you'd like to be added to a tag list, let me know!

#dean winchester x reader #dean winchester x you #spn #supernatural #spn imagine #supernatural imagine #spn one shot #supernatural one shot #dean x reader #dean x you #reader insert #female reader

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