#lena needs all the hugs

[natalievoncatte]

Everything was in place. Lena dropped down into the passenger seat of Jess’s car. The trunk was loaded with presents and books and Lena was ready. Jess fired up the engine of her 2009 Honda Civic and off they went, navigating National City traffic.

Lena’s stomach was full of butterflies. She had her hood up and was dressed down in sweats, not looking at all her fashion place self. Jess parked by one of the service entrances and a security guard let them in with a curt nod. Lena had dropped him a four figure tip to cooperate.

The kids were gathered in a common area on the fifth floor pediatric intensive unit, ranging in age from three to fifteen. Lena fought the lump that formed in her throat as they gathered, some of the younger ones in the laps of the older.

Lena started with a reading of How the Grinch Stole Christmas, complete with sill voices and big smiles and a lot of effort on her part to keep tears from welling in her eyes.

Some of these kids were having their last Christmas, and some of them knew it. Some didn’t. Others would go home, and a lucky few would help change the world with their participation in clinical trials.

On some level Lena knew that Kara would show up eventually- she’d been dropping in regularly enough, once learning that Lena read to the kids.

Sure enough, she showed up as the kids were eating turkey and mashed potatoes and gravy prepared under the supervision of a Michelin star chef that Lena had hired at great expense to prepare their dinner.

Supergirl, all swagger and power, strode into the room. The response was curious. They knew her of course, and she’d been there enough times, even read to them, that there was a peculiar familiarity to her visits and only the new kids got truly excited.

They were more excited by Kara’s plus one. She’d brought with her the most perfect Santa Claus that Lena had ever seen. No fake beard here; every whisker was real, as was every crease and wrinkle. Even his costume was flawless, velvet coat and paints lined with genuine fur. He had a huge beach sack thrown over one shoulder and greeted the kids with a cheer, setting to work handing out gifts.

Kara came over and stood next to Lena.

“You’ve outdone yourself this time,” said Lena.

Across the room, Santa gave a hearty Ho! Ho! Ho!, and had taken up a seat to invite kids onto his lap.

“Believe it or not,” Kara said, “he owes me a favor.”

Lena snorted and Kara winked.

“‘sides, I live at the North Pole, too. Sort of.”

Lena watched the man with the children. He really was quite good, a consummate professional.

She looked over at Kara. There was a twinge of pink in her cheeks and snowflakes melting in her hair, and her new suit showed off her muscular arms. More than that, there was a look of a wistful joy in her eyes as she watched the kids enjoy themselves.

Lena’s heart would have grown three sizes that day, if it didn’t already feel like it might burst through her ribs every time she looked at Kara, really looked at Kara.

She’d long ago admitted her feelings to herself- it was getting them out that was the problem, even now.

Across the room, Santa Claus stood, startling Lena out of her reverie.

“I’m sorry kids, but I really must go. Lots more visits to make tonight!”

He stood and walked over to Kara. “I do have that one stop to make before I begin my rounds proper. Shall we?”

He even had the perfect Santa voice.

Kara turned to Lena and offered a hand.

That was how Lena ended up in something like the setup for a bad joke: Riding in an elevator with Santa Claus and Supergirl.

It was actually rather awkward. Kara opened the roof access door and motioned for Lena, and the Santa Claus impersonator followed her out. Kara went last, lingering by the door.

“May we speak in private?” Santa said.

“Sure,” said Lena, happy to play along. She pulled her hood up against the chill and walked a few dozen paces from Kara, and Santa turned to face her.

“I’m sorry I didn’t bring you that easy bake oven you wanted when you were six,” he began.

Lena’s face fell. Lillian had exploded at her when she asked on Santa’s lap, a much less convincing Santa, and asked for the silly cooking toy.

She’d screamed that menial tasks were beneath a Luthor and Lena was supposed to ask for the American Girl dolls that Lillian had already bought, and what an ungrateful, spoiled little bitch she was. It was the first time that Lillian had called her that and far from the last; she’d added many insults to it over the years, like stupid or lazy or, most painfully of all, fat; dropping that one had sent Lena into a spiral of crash dieting that almost turned into full blown bulimia by the time she graduated from high school.

She’d never told anyone about the easy bake oven. Not even Kara.

Before Lena could demand an explanation or even speak, Santa reached into his bag, withdrew something, and handed it to her.

Lena took the stuffed bear on instinct. When she did she knew it was more than a bear. As her hands touched the somewhat ratty fur and she saw the little tear in his left ear she knew, she knew.

When the Luthors took her in, Lillian destroyed everything of her old life- everything of her mother, as if to erase her from ever existing. It was spiteful, and hateful. Lillian couldn’t revenge herself on his husband’s mistress so she did it to her child.

She’d burned Lena’s stuffed animals. They were all gone, reduced to ash.

Except… except…

“Clive?” Lena whispered, hot tears burning down her cheeks. “This is impossible, how…”

He placed a gloved hand on her shoulder and Lena felt a wave of indescribable shock roll through her. Something just… opened.

Her mind filled with an image of perfect clarity, and a song fresh and bright in her ears. Her mother’s voice and the distant sound of the sea that would eventually take her. All her life Lena could barely remember her mother- she clawed at scraps, more able to feel her than truly remember her.

Not anymore. As she clutched the bear to her chest, memory flooded her mind like warmth from a hearth fire filling a cold room. She grinned like a fool and choked back sobs.

“How?” Lena chirped out.

“Kara asked me to bring you something very special, and I do owe her a favor. I really must get going, though.”

Then she heard it. Jingling bells.

Lena had seen a woman fly; said woman had saved her from splatting on the pavement too many times. She had never seen reindeer fly, pulling a sleigh behind them.

Wait.

No.

This was not possible.

Santa Claus threw his sack in the rear of the sleigh and climbed aboard. He threw Lena a wave.

“Merry Christmas, Lena Luthor.”

“Wait,” Lena called. “Did you bring Kara something?”

“What Kara Zor-El Danvers wants, I cannot give her,” he said, with a cryptic grin.

Lena stumbled back as the reindeer launched into a full gallop with a blast of air, the rider snapping his reins. It was only then that Lena noticed that the lead animal had a glowing red nose.

Kara stepped up behind her and put her hands on Len/ shoulders.

“Kara,” Lena said. “That was the real Santa Claus.”

“I know.”

“No, you don’t understand. That was the real Santa Claus. He’s real. Santa Claus is real and he gave me my stuffed bear back.”

As Lena turned, Kara smiled. “I know, baby.”

Lena swiped at her cheeks.

“I-I don’t know how you did this, but thank you. Thank you so much. I don’t even know what to say.”

Kara stepped closer, into her space. Very gently, she brushed away one of Lena’s tears with the pad of her thumb.

“You don’t have to say anything.”

“He said he couldn’t get you what he wanted. I find that hard to believe.”

“He can’t just give it to me because it’s not his to give. He did give me this, though.”

Kara reached under her cape, drawing out a small twig with a pair of scalloped leaves and some red berries.

“Is that mistletoe?”

“Yeah,” said Kara.

She lifted it over her head and held it there, smiling at Lena.

It took a moment for her brain to catch up. Kara was holding the mistletoe over her head. She was under the mistletoe.

Lena faltered for just a moment, but then stepped forward, closing what little gap was left between them. Kara was every inch the dashing prince as she put her arm around Lena’s waist, spinning her a little as the other hand cupped her chin and tilted her head just so for Kara to place a gentle, loving, and utterly devastating closed-mouth kiss on Lena’s lips.

Suddenly Lena understood what it was that Kara wanted and for the second time in as many minutes her heart soared and Lena threw her arms around Kara’s neck and they swayed there like dancers amid the snow flurries until Kara flew them home.

[regressionschool]

Lena's life

featuring the adorable @liljams

Lena swung her feet beneath the daycare table, a giddy warmth bubbling inside her. Today was a special day—one she’d been hoping for, even if she’d never dared to ask outright.

No more panties.

She pressed her thighs together, feeling the soft, snug hug of her pull-up under her dress. Safe. Comfy. A little secret between her and Daddy, even if he hadn’t made a big deal about it.

That was just how Daddy was—gentle, steady, not one for fuss. When Miss Emily had handed him the pack of pull-ups yesterday, he hadn’t protested or even hesitated. He’d simply nodded, like it was the most normal thing in the world. And Lena? She had grinned so wide her cheeks had hurt.

Now, she could hardly sit still.

She squirmed in her seat, letting the faintest crinkle reach her ears, her heart doing a little flip of excitement. No one else seemed to notice—not the other littles coloring beside her, not Miss Emily checking the cubbies. But she knew. And Daddy knew. And that was all that mattered.

Feeling bold, she abandoned her coloring and scurried across the room, straight to where Daddy sat on the couch, his book in hand. Without hesitation, she climbed onto the seat beside him, curling close enough that her pull-up brushed against his leg.

“Daddy,” she whispered, voice brimming with pride.

He hummed, turning a page. “Mmm?”

She grinned, shifting just enough that the waistband of her pull-up peeked out beneath her dress. “No more big-girl panties,” she announced, the words tasting like candy on her tongue.

Daddy glanced down, his expression as unreadable as ever—but there was a softness there, hidden in his eyes. He reached out, tugging her dress back into place, his touch warm and familiar.

“That so?” he murmured.

Lena nodded eagerly. “Mhm! Isn’t it great?”

Daddy’s lips twitched—just a little. Not quite a smile, but something close. He gave her knee a gentle squeeze. “If it makes you happy, princess.”

A shiver of delight ran down her spine. It did. It really, really did.

She wriggled a little closer, letting her head rest against his arm. Daddy didn’t have to say more. He didn’t have to shower her with praise or call her his little baby. She could feel it, even in the silence.

And maybe—just maybe—this was only the beginning.

 Lena sat cross-legged on the Livingroom rug, her fingers absently tugging at the hem of her dress. Daddy had gone to the store. To buy more pull-ups.

She pouted, kicking her feet. Pull-ups were fine, but they weren’t what she wanted. They weren’t thick and safe like her diapers at night. They weren’t what a little girl like her needed.

At Regression School, Miss Emily had told the class that littles should express their feelings and be honest about their needs. Well… Daddy hadn’t asked, but maybe she could show him instead.

A mischievous spark flickered in her belly.

Lena pushed herself up onto her knees, feeling the soft crinkle of her pull-up as she shifted. It was thin—too thin. It wouldn’t hold much. And that was exactly the point.

If she really needed diapers, she had to show him why.

Slowly, she got up onto her feet, glancing around the empty house. Just her. No daycare rules. No one watching. Just her and her pull-up.

She spread her legs slightly, lowered herself into a squat, and took a deep breath. Her body hesitated at first—it was different doing this on purpose. But as soon as she pushed, her tummy squeezed, and warmth flooded through her.

Her pull-up sagged as she filled it, the soft padding straining to hold everything. A deep shiver ran down her spine at the sensation—heavy, warm, messy.

By the time she was done, her pull-up was swollen and droopy between her legs, no mistaking what had just happened.

She reached back, pressing her fingers gently against the back of her pull-up, giggling at the squish. Yep. No doubt about it. Pull-ups were not made for this.

Daddy had to understand now.

With a gleeful little bounce—feeling the weight shift against her—she toddled toward the door, her cheeks warm with excitement.

All she had to do now… was wait for Daddy to come home.

 Lena stood still as Daddy pulled her dress down over her fresh diaper, his hands smoothing the fabric as he checked her over. The thick padding crinkled softly with every tiny movement, still dry, still crisp—but not for long.

“All set for nursery,” Daddy said, his voice gentle but firm.

Lena suckled her paci, her eyes twinkling as she rocked slightly on her heels. She was ready—clean, comfy, and snug in her fresh diaper. But there was still one last step.

She shifted her stance, parting her legs just a little. The flutter in her tummy turned into a quiet sigh as she let go.

Warmth spread through her diaper almost instantly, soaking into the soft padding. The familiar squish replaced the crisp dryness in seconds, the front puffing out slightly as it drank up every drop.

Daddy’s eyes flicked down, catching the telltale shift in her posture. “Lena…” he said, the amused warning clear in his voice.

She peeked up at him, her cheeks warming as she suckled her paci innocently.

Daddy sighed, shaking his head with a knowing smirk. “Not even one minute?”

Lena giggled, her voice muffled by the pacifier. “Nope!”

Lena let out a burst of giggles, bouncing on her toes as the fresh squish beneath her made her feel extra little. She wiggled excitedly, her diaper crinkling with every movement, the warmth pressing against her like a cozy hug.

“See, Daddy?” she chirped around her paci, her voice muffled but so proud. “Told you I needed my diapees!”

She gave another happy wiggle, her hands grabbing at her dress as she rocked side to side, making sure Daddy really noticed how soggy she was now. The feeling was just so good, so perfect, and her whole body practically buzzed with excitement.

Daddy chuckled, shaking his head as he stood back up. “You’re impossible, you know that?”

Lena just grinned wider, her pacifier bobbing as she bounced in place, delighting in the way her diaper squished with every move.

“Nu-uh!” she giggled, her energy overflowing. “I’m just really good at being little!”

Daddy gave her bottom a playful pat, the squishy padding pressing back against his hand. “You’re really good at something, that’s for sure.”

Lena squealed happily at that, flopping dramatically onto her padded bottom with a loud plop, the wet squish making her giggle even harder. She kicked her legs, flailing playfully, completely lost in her excitement.

“I win! I win!” she declared, her arms shooting up in victory.

Daddy raised an eyebrow. “Oh? And what exactly did you win, princess?”

Lena giggled, beaming. “The ‘Never-Ever-Stay-Dry’ game!”

Daddy groaned playfully, running a hand over his face. “That’s not even a real game.”

“Is too!” she argued, crossing her arms but still grinning. “And I win every time!”

Daddy sighed, shaking his head. “That’s because you cheat.”

Lena giggled even harder, kicking her legs happily. “Nooo, it’s ‘cause I’m the best little ever!”

Daddy couldn’t help but smile, watching her wiggle and squirm on the carpet like the happiest little thing in the world. He reached down, scooping her up effortlessly and settling her on his hip, her soggy diaper squishing beneath her as she giggled and nuzzled into his shoulder.

“Alright, you little troublemaker,” he said, pressing a kiss to the top of her head. “Let’s get you to nursery before you decide to win again.”

Lena squealed in delight, kicking her legs against his side, her pacifier still in her mouth as she clung to him.

She loved mornings like this.

 Lena snuggled deeper into Daddy’s chest, her body completely relaxed in his arms. His steady breathing, the warmth of his flannel shirt, the way his hands supported her bottom—it was all so safe, so perfect. She suckled softly on her paci, her fingers gripping his shirt as she let herself melt into him. 

Her diaper, already warm and soggy from just five minutes ago, squished gently against his lap. The fullness between her legs made her feel so little, so cared for. She gave the tiniest wiggle, pressing closer, reveling in the thick, swollen padding that cradled her bottom. 

Daddy’s hands cupped her diaper, holding her effortlessly, his fingers resting against the puffy bulk. He didn’t comment on how wet she was already—he never did, not really. He just let her be his little girl. 

And then… it happened. 

Lena barely noticed at first, the familiar flutter in her tummy coming and going like a passing thought. But as she shifted slightly in Daddy’s arms, her body made the decision for her. 

There was no hesitation, no effort—just a natural, helpless release. 

She sighed softly behind her paci as warmth spread through the seat of her diaper, the padding stretching as it eagerly accepted the mess. Her body relaxed even more as she filled her diaper completely, the weight settling thickly beneath her. 

Daddy’s hands adjusted, his grip instinctively tightening as her diaper expanded in his palms. He stilled for a moment, then let out a quiet huff, his fingers giving the back of her diaper a gentle pat. 

“Lena…” His voice carried that familiar mixture of amusement and exasperation. 

She peeked up at him with wide, innocent eyes, her pacifier bobbing as she suckled sweetly. 

Daddy shook his head, glancing down at her in disbelief. “No way this is the same girl who used to fight wearing pull-ups,” he murmured, mostly to himself. “Two years ago, you wouldn’t even try.” 

Lena only giggled, her heart swelling with happiness. She knew exactly how far she’d come. How much she had changed. 

She wasn’t that girl anymore. 

She wasn’t a big girl at all. 

She was Daddy’s little one—his soggy, squishy, helpless baby. 

And she wouldn’t have it any other way.

thank you @liljams for providing the original idea as well as the photos :)

[meazalykov]

mystery

barcelona femeni x lena oberdorf x reader

the team finds out about your potential relationship at the same time as everyone else

the chill of december bites at your skin as you step off the plane, a light fog of condensation forming with each exhale. 

cairo airport is filled with activity, a stark contrast to the quiet ache in your chest from leaving barcelona behind for the break. everyone else scattered to their families..alexia to her parents, mapi to her sisters.. ingrid tagging along with mapi.

however, you made a different choice. you texted lena as soon as the winter schedule was released, your fingers shaking with equal parts nerves and excitement as you hit send. her response had been almost immediate: 

yes, come to me.

the cab ride to the german resort in egypt feels longer than it is, the traffic weaving around you in a rhythm you can’t quite predict. your mind drifts to her…how her voice sounded over the phone just the night before, soft and inviting despite her latest recovery session. 

you remember the way she laughed when you told her you’d packed her favorite chocolate from spain, calling you “extra” with a playful tease. 

when you finally step into the lobby, obi is already waiting with lea. she stands near the entrance, her dark shirt hanging loosely on her body, her hair tied back in a simple ponytail. 

obi’s eyes light up the second they meet yours, a warmth there that makes the entire journey feel worth it. she doesn’t move right away..her lips curl into that familiar smile, the one that always tugs at something deep inside your chest, and then she steps forward. 

“you’re here,” she says, as if she needs to convince herself this isn’t just another late-night call or grainy video chat. 

“i’m here,” you echo, your voice quieter, carrying all the weight of missing her and finally seeing her again. 

she pulls you into her arms before you can say anything else, her grip firm but tender, as though she’s afraid you might disappear if she holds too tightly. the scent of her shampoo..something citrusy and sharp..mixes with the faint chill on her skin, and you close your eyes, melting into the familiarity of her embrace. 

obi’s hands trace soothing lines along your lower back, and for a moment, the rest of the world fades. it’s just you and her, breathing each other in.

“you must be exhausted,” she says when she pulls back slightly, her hands still resting on your shoulders. obi’s eyes scan your face like she’s memorizing every detail all over again. 

“i’ve had worse travel days,” you joke, but lena shakes her head, her lips quirking in mild disapproval. 

“you never let me take care of you,” she mutters, almost to herself, before lacing her fingers with yours and tugging you toward the elevator. 

“no hey for me?” lea jokes. 

“how could i forget about my favorite person here!” you laugh, pulling lea into a tight hug.

“hey!” lena says which gets a good laugh out of lea and you.

the ride up to obi’s room is quiet, save for the faint hum of holiday music filtering through the speakers. lena leans against the wall, her thumb absently brushing over your knuckles. 

you don’t say much..it’s a comfortable silence, the kind that comes with knowing someone so intimately that words aren’t always necessary. 

once inside the room, lena drops her small bag near the small table and immediately turns to you. she’s always been like this…direct, unguarded when it’s just the two of you. she steps closer, her hands finding your cheeks, her thumbs brushing lightly over your skin. 

“you’re really here,” she whispers, and this time it sounds more like a confession, a quiet marvel at the reality of it. 

“of course i am,” you reply, your voice steady even though your heart is racing under her gaze. 

“you think i’d spend with anyone else?” 

obi’s smile softens, and she presses a kiss to your forehead before resting her own against it. 

“you have no idea how much i’ve missed you.”

you think you do. you’ve felt it in every passing day since the last time she came to barcelona to see you, when you had to say goodbye in the quiet of your apartment, neither of you wanting to let go. you feel it now, in the way her hands linger on you like she’s trying to make up for lost time. 

“probably as much as i’ve missed you,” you say, and it earns you that laugh…the low, melodic one that makes your chest feel impossibly full. 

“impossible,” she teases, before finally pulling away just enough to guide you to the bed. 

you lay down cuddling with her for a brief moment before you have to go outside for more activities. the both of you talk lightly, just discussing things that maybe you guys didn’t on the phone. 

she mentions lea and kathi’s terrible jokes during her recovery sessions. there’s a tenderness in her voice whenever she talks about her friends, and you’re grateful her friends has been there for her during the times you couldn’t be since you played in barcelona. 

after a night out, where lena djs with her friends while you just sit with lea by the bars in support.. you feel the exhaustion from the trip begin to creep in, but lena seems to notice before you can say anything. 

she nudges you gently, her arm wrapping around your shoulders as she takes you back to your shared hotel room. 

“sleep,” she murmurs, her voice low and soothing. 

“i will still be here, i am just going to the bathroom to get unready.” 

maybe five minutes later.. you feel yourself getting pulled into her arms, in this secret little world you’ve built together in egypt while the time lasts. 

throughout the next week in egypt felt like a dream. the kind of dream you never wanted to wake up from or escape. you and lena spent days exploring, stealing moments for yourselves, surrounded by her closest friends. 

the most thrilling part of it all? riding dune buggies across the sprawling sands. the powerful machines roared as you navigated the uneven terrain, the wind whipping against your face as lena rode beside you, grinning like a kid who just found her favorite candy.

somewhere in the golden expanse of the desert, lea insisted on capturing photos of everyone. lena was her usual reluctant self, but you? you were feeling the sun on your skin, the freedom in the air. 

when lea aimed the camera your way, she didn’t even have to ask you to stand still when you started walking so you had your own individual pictures. 

the timing of the pictures couldn’t have been more perfect..your hair moved gently in the breeze, and the sunlight painted your skin with a radiant glow, setting you apart from the vast golden orange backdrop of sand. 

“oh wow this one’s stunning,” lea grinned, showing the screen to lena first. obi’s eyes lingered on the image a moment longer than necessary, a small, almost imperceptible smile pulling at her lips before she nodded.

“you’re posting that, right?” lena asked, her tone teasing but edged with sincerity. 

you did. how could you not? it was the kind of picture that didn’t come around often. within minutes, your feed was getting notifications. 

what you didn’t expect was for some eagle eyed fans to piece together that lena and lea had posted stories from the exact same desert in the same hour. while neither of them appeared in your photo, the connection was made…three high-profile football players in the same place, at the same time?

the internet was quick to notice. 

still, everything was manageable. until lena, in true lena fashion, decided to break the silence. obi’s comment on your post was simple, direct: 

hot

that one word sent shockwaves through your notifications. 

suddenly, the noise grew louder. fans were scrambling for answers, dissecting every post and interaction…or lack thereof. you and lena had never made a habit of commenting on each other’s photos, not publicly, at least. 

sure, you liked her posts, and she liked yours, but it was subtle. this? this was anything but subtle. you were not mad at lena, in fact, you kind of enjoyed that people were starting to know about this.

the first text came late that night. your phone buzzed on the nightstand as you lay beside lena, who was lazily scrolling through her own notifications. 

ingrid. 

ingrid: what are you doing in egypt with obi? 

ingrid: nothing wrong! i didn’t think that you guys even knew of each other

you stared at the screen for a moment, debating your response. lena noticed, leaning over to catch a glimpse of her old wolfsburg teammate texting you. 

“are you going to answer her?” she asked, her voice calm but curious. 

“not yet,” you murmured, locking the phone and setting it back down. lena chuckled, pressing a kiss to your lips before tossing your phone to the side.

the texts didn’t stop there. by morning, your phone was flooded…alexia, salma, frido, ewa. all of them had the same question: 

alexia: what's going on? 

ewa: i see you guys 😏😏 

salma: so what are you doing in egypttt!??? 😏😏🤨

fridolina: since when did you and obi start dating? 

later, lena posted her slideshow on instagram. a collection of moments from the trip since its your last day here: the sunset over the desert, the group at dinner, her in the pool. 

however, it was the last photo that threw everything into chaos. the picture was taken by the dj booth, all of you in one frame. lea stood between phil and fridolin, and lena stood on fridolin’s other side. 

there you were, at the end, lena’s arm draped comfortably around your shoulders, your head leaning against hers. 

the comments exploded. 

HELLO???

wait… are they together?! 

obi and y/n?? since when?? 

HOW DID WE NOT SEE THIS COMING?!

THE HARD LAUNCH OKAYYY

lena smirked at the influx of attention, but you could feel the tension brewing in your phone as it buzzed relentlessly on the table. by now, the barcelona group chat was probably in flames. 

you could picture alexia starting her own mini investigation, salma and frido laughing at the absurdity, and ewa typing out a flurry of messages just to be nosey about her old teammate and new teammate being together. 

“they’re not going to let this go, you know,” lena said, her tone light as she scrolled through her own growing list of missed calls and texts from her bayern teammates like kathi, tuva, and georgia. 

“i know,” you sighed, running a hand through your hair. 

“but we’ll figure it out when we get back. you to munich, me to barcelona.”

lena smiled, pulling you closer. 

“as long as i have my beautiful sexy girlfriend, then i am okay.” 

you giggled. 

back in barcelona, a week after you and obi left egypt.. the locker room is quiet as you push the door open, though the quiet feels almost… staged. 

your footsteps echo slightly as you step in, and the moment you glance up, you realize why. every single one of your teammates is staring at you, arms crossed, smirks plastered across their faces like they’ve been waiting for this exact moment.

“so,” vicky starts, leaning against her locker with the kind of casual confidence that spells trouble. 

“how was egypt with your new girlfriend?”

you roll your eyes, already regretting every decision that led to this. 

“good morning to you too,” you mutter, heading straight for your locker, hoping and praying that they’ll let it slide. 

they won’t.

salma snickers as she moves to sit beside your locker, her grin way too wide. 

“you’re not even going to deny it, are you?”

“what’s there to deny?” you sigh, pulling off your hoodie and grabbing your training shirt. your hands move a little quicker than usual, like if you’re dressed fast enough, they might lose interest. 

they don’t.

“what’s there to deny?” ewa repeats, feigning shock. 

“you’ve been secretly dating obi, and you think we’re just going to let that slide without asking questions?”

you groan internally but keep your face calm, pulling your shirt over your head and starting on your socks. 

“it’s not a secret anymore, is it?” you reply, your tone steady, but the small smile tugging at your lips betrays you.

“how long?” ewa presses, leaning forward. 

“and don’t even think about lying.”

you glance up at her, then at the rest of the team, who are all waiting, some sitting on the benches, others leaning against lockers, every single one of them focused on you.

 alexia, standing near the door, raises an eyebrow as if to say, you might as well tell them.

“four months,” you say finally, your voice even. 

the reaction is instant. gasps, laughter, and a mix of disbelief ripple through the room.

“four months?” frido exclaims. 

“and you didn’t tell anyone? not even us?”

“i told esmee,” you admit, earning a collective groan from the group.

esmee turns her head away from the team, hoping to not become the center of the teasing since she didn’t spill your secret. 

salma throws her hands up dramatically. 

“esmee doesn’t count. she’s your best friend here.”

you shake your head, tying your laces as you prepare for the next wave of teasing. 

“obi and i wanted to keep it private for a while,” you explain, keeping your voice calm despite the heat rising to your cheeks. 

“it’s long-distance. clearly since she plays at bayern. we wanted to make sure it worked before people started asking questions or… making assumptions.”

that quiets them for a moment, and alexia nods slightly, her expression softening. 

“that makes sense,” she says, her tone understanding. 

“it’s a lot of pressure, especially with both of you playing in different places.”

you give her a small, grateful smile before aitana pipes up. 

“but you’re terrible at keeping secrets, you know that, right?” 

the whole room erupts in laughter, and even you can’t help but join in. 

“apparently,” you admit, grabbing your water bottle and heading toward the door. 

“hey, for what it’s worth,” vicky calls out as you reach the exit, 

“you make a cute couple. but don’t think this means we’re done teasing you.” 

you roll your eyes but grin despite yourself. 

“i wouldn’t expect anything less.” 

masterlist

[moonlit-imagines]

warnings:

a/n: no thunderbolts spoilers!!!

not requested

When Yelena was down in the dumps, her makeup always made the difference. It may not seem like much, but those bright colors she used were sometimes the only thing that would brighten her day. Bold colors helped her express herself when words couldn’t. And today, you needed some of that, too.

“Come, sit.” Yelena urged you to sit at her vanity, turning the lights on and shuffling through her unorganized drawers to find the perfect array of colors for you. “Relax, I’ve done this before. You will feel so good after I’m finished. Sometimes all you need is a bit of color!” Makeup brushes, eyeliner, eyeshadow, lipstick, lipgloss, and more was scattered before you. “I pick for you.”

“Yelena, I don’t know if this is going to help.” You said in a defeated tone, knowing she would not give up. She needed the distraction as well—and judging by how colorful her makeup was today, she was in the same boat as you.

“Nonsense! You wait until I’m done before you tell me what helps and what doesn’t.” Yelena opened a cap with her teeth and grabbed your face from under the chin, squeezing your cheeks. “Stay still for me.” Her focus was admirable, you watched as her brows furrowed and her gaze intensified. “Look up.” You cooperated.

She dragged eyeliner around your eyelids, had you blink as she applied mascara, closed your eyes with her fingers to do your eyeshadow. All this was weirdly relaxing, your head tinging at the personal attention you received. She then asked you to mimmick her expressions as she did your lipstick, you tried to copy her silly faces but couldn’t stop laughing.

“Y/N, I’m almost done, please!” Yelena begged through giggles as she bared only her bottom teeth. “You have to stretch your bottom lip like this so I can get your lipstick right!” You finally complied before she made a new face. “Okay, done! Now see how much some color can change your mood!” You looked at your face in the mirror and smiled. “Dont cry, though. I didn’t use the waterproof stuff on you.”

“Thanks, Lena.” You hugged her, careful not to smudge your fresh makeup on her shoulder. “It does help a bit.”

taglist: @locke-writes // @captainshazamerica // @summersimmerus // @prettysbliss // @simp-legend // @wild-rose-35 // @nekoannie-chan // @beth-gallagher22 // @sk1bidi-n1k0-e4ts-people // @deanzboyfriend // @mr-mxyzptlk-1940 // @lenaelleu //

[sentryluvs]

storms we cant resist

As the newest addition to the Thunderbolts* New Avengers, you and Sentry clash at every turn-until the sparks between you ignite a storm neither of you can resist. Enemies on the battlefield and rivals in every mission, you discover that sometimes the fiercest storms hide the deepest desires.

robert reynolds “sentry” x superhero! reader

tags: supergirl! reader, enemies to lovers, forced proximity, cocky sentry, power play, swearing, sentry wants you bad, sizing up, pining, teasing, reader gets riled up easily, may be canon divergent, sentry focus, slight ooc, comedy moments, domestic! thunderbolts* yelena belova is reader’s best friend.

IN PROGRESS🚧

a.n: first 6 chapters uploaded, stay tune for the rest!

request a story here

_____________________________________________

01. Lightning strikes twice

Madripoor, 10:47 PM

Rain sheeted down the neon-soaked streets as the Avengers jet touched down. You adjusted your suit, solar energy humming beneath your skin, ignoring the way Sentry’s gaze burned into your back from across the cabin.

Yelena Belova elbowed you, her black suit gleaming. “Try not to vaporize him before the mission starts, дорогая . Unfortunately, we need him”

dear, the nickname she had just for you.

“No promises, милая” you muttered.

darling, the nickname you had just for her.

You eyed the golden glow radiating from Sentry’s clenched fists. It involuntarily sent a shiver down your spine. You should never admit it, but behind that cockyness, you felt something, darker was beyond.

John Walker clapped to get everyone’s attention

“Listen up! The target’s a vibranium pulse cannon in the Highrise District. No collateral damage.” His glare landed on Sentry.

“That means you, Superman. Keep it down, I think we have the government shoved up our asses enough”

Sentry smirked, stretching lazily, the suit hugged him in all the right places, making you flush, fortunately the jet was dark enough to conceal it. Or so you thought

“Relax, Walker. I’ll save the fireworks for the afterparty.” His eyes flicked to you. “Unless the newbie wants to show off her… what’s your deal again? Sparkly Kryptonian cosplay?”

The team froze. Not good.

You calmly stepped into his space, as you walked solar flares crackling at your fingertips. “How about I show you after I save your ass out there?”

He stood up, letting a small, low laugh. Sentry towered over you, preying on you. He leaned down untin his breah ghosted your ears.

“Can’t wait to see that, Supergirl”

“My name is Solara” Your eyes held fire, anger boiling your veins. None of you backed down, for a moment it seemed like the world stopped. You heard someone clearing their throat from behind.

“If you’re done eye-fucking can we please move on to the mission please?” James Barnes, ex-Winter Soldier, said while finishing setting up his rifle.

“One second Mr Barnes-“ Another voice interrupted. The Red Guardian, Alexei Shohstakov “I can’t get this- ughh. Lena! come help your papa put belt on, I cannot reach” Yelena groaned in the background, going to help her father.

“We were not- ugh, let’s just get this over with, I wanna go home” You said while stepping away holding your ground. You were thankful for the interruptions because the way he looked at you was definetly doing something to you.

“Mood” you hear Ava Starr say in the background as she spralled on the seats twirling her gun.

Before Sentry could say anything else, Walker slammed his shield to the floor making everyone jump.

“Move your asses, now”

The Mission

Chaos erupted the moment you hit the roof. The cannon’s operator-a rogue AIM scientist-had already leveled three blocks.

“Flank left!” you shouted to Ghost, who phased through a wall.

“Left?” Sentry’s voice was heard over the comms. “Boring. I’ll take the cannon. Watch and learn.”

He shot skyward like a comet, but you were faster. Solar energy propelled you forward, frost breath flash-freezing the cannon’s barrel as Sentry grabbed it.

“What the-?” The weapon shattered in his hands.

You swooped past him, heat vision slicing the control panel. “Lesson one: teamwork.”

Yelena whooped over comms: “Solara : 1, Sentry: 0!”

His growl reverberated in your bones. “You’re dead after this.”

•••

Back at the Tower, you’d barely peeled off your suit when a golden light flooded the training room.

Sentry hovered in the doorway, sleeves rolled up to reveal corded muscle. “Still owe me that rematch.”

You didn’t look up, still focused on wrapping your knuckles. “Didn’t realize losers got a do-over.”

He teleported behind you, voice a rumble in your ear. “I never lose.”

The fight was a blur of solar flares and supersonic punches. He pinned you against the wall, grip bruising your wrists, but you slammed your forehead into his nose. He staggered back-laughing, blood trickling from his nostril.

“Finally,” he breathed, riled up. His eyes wild, almost manic “Someone who hits back.”

You charged, tackling him through a reinforced window. The night sky swallowing both of you

Midair, 11:59 PM

His hand found your throat as you grappled, both hovering above the city. “Still think you’re my equal?”

Solar energy surged down your arms, ready to strike at any moment. “I think you’re scared that I’m better.”

The Tower’s alarms blared below. He didn’t move.

“Oh, sweetheart,” he murmured. Sentry squeezed your throat just enough to highten your racing pulse, making your breath hitch “You have no idea what you do to me.”

Before you could snap back, Yelena’s voice crackled on your abandoned comm: “If you two lovebirds are done flirting, we have debrief. Get inside, now ”

And just like that, Sentry dropped you.

You caught yourself floating in from the window you guys broke.

He smirked, golden energy fading as he flew past you. “Tomorrow. Same time.”

“In your dreams,” you shot back.

His laugh followed you down the hall.

0.2 Thunder Without Rain

The debrief room was still buzzing from the mission. Yelena lounged sideways in her chair, boots up on the table, tossing a protein bar at you. “You need this more than I do, Sol. You look like you got hit by a truck.”

You caught it, rolling your eyes. “Gee, thanks” you took a small bite, savoring the chocolate flavor “You should see the other guy.”

Sentry strolled in as if he was summoned, golden aura flickering, blonde hair tousled from the fight. He leaned against the wall, arms crossed, a lazy grin on his lips. “Come on, Solaris, you couldnt have finished without me.”

You didn’t bother to look his way. “Solara, and no, Lena and I were doing just fine until you decided to play knight in shining armor unsolicited.” Venom laced your words, loud and clear

He laughed, the sound low and cocky. “Keep telling yourself that, sunshine. You need me, you always do”

Bucky cleared his throat, trying for authority. “Sentry, take a seat. We need to discuss our next plan” He does as he’s told, taking a seat next to Solara, she mentally rolled her eyes.

Barnes stands up circling the room “Let’s keep this short. We neutralized the cannon, but AIM’s not going to let it go. We need to act fast, and not let the Tower get compromised.” He then pressed the comm on his ear “Ava, report?”

Ava’s upper half body phased through the wall, appearing in front of everyone “They’re looking for us. I would say twenty to forty people, all armed. Suspicious weapons”

“New tech?” John finally talks, adjusting his guns

“Its possible, i’ve never seen anything like it before. We might need to split up and evacuate the building. I’m gonna take some of them down, call me if anything changed” Ava finally said before disappearing through the wall. Loud explosions and shooting sounds could be heard all around the building.

Yelena quickly says “I say we let Sentry go out first to do a quick clean up. Solara and I can evacuate the building, and you guys kick ass, yes? ”

Sentry shot her a look, then turned to you. “Aww, but you’d miss me if I got shot up, Stellar.”

You arched a brow at his comment “You know thats not happening, you’re bulletproof.”

You boldly get closer to his face, rematching the events on the jet “ But if they do shoot you, they’ll be doing us a favor.”

Sentry grinned, stepping closer, his voice dropping “You keep saying that but we both know that aint true”

You make a disgusted face “Fuck you”

Sentry smiled even more

Yelena made a gagging noise. “Can you two save the foreplay for after we’re done thanks?”

Bucky clears his throat, damn thats a reccuring habit, pulling you out of your trance. “We’ll do what Yelena said. Sentry, try to keep them contained here. Solara, Yelena, take the civilians out. John, Alexei and I will follow and aid Sentry with the intruders. Faster we finish faster we can rest, im exhausted” Bucky said with sincerety, is his age finally catching up to him?

Sentry stands up, his shoulder bumping into yours. He stretches and walks to the window

“Dont miss me too much, see you in a minute” He smirked and jumped.

Solara stood up, Yelena following close behind as they walked to the window.

“alright team! lets do this!”

They grabbed hands, and jumped to action

“What’s up with these people jumping out of windows?” John said looking at Bucky

Bucky only shrugged.

•••

The mission was a success, the people were arrested and the weapons are currently being investigated. John was right, a new tech is developing underground.

A few days later, the Tower was back to normal, a little too normal. No missions, no reports, no paperwork, no interviews, no emergencies..odd

Everyone was doing their own individual thing, Solara walked to the empty lounge to fill up her water bottle in a black long-sleeve crop top sportswear and leggins. John enters the room holding various files.

“What you got there Johnny?” you asked him as he sat down near the bar to read them.

“These are the files of the people arrested, i’m just checking if we left any valuable information for the report out”

You sat down next to him, patting his shoulder “Have you slept well?” you said noticing the dark circles under his eyes.

“I’ll sleep when i’m dead” He tries to quote Alexei’s words with a terrible russian accent making you both laugh.

“But seriously though, you need to take care of yourself, we cant have one of our own in bad shape. You’re very valuable for the team” You tell him honestly, John was like a big brother, and you admire the way he tried to make up for his past mistakes. You admire how he cared for everyone in his way. John only gave you a pained smile in response.

“Didnt know we were having a show today” you couldnt help to close your eyes in annoyance as you heard Sentry’s very distinguable voice from affar.

“Oh how I wish they would’ve shot him dead” you whispered annoyed, but thanks to his superhearing he heard every word.

He cockily grinned. It was weird seeing him dressed in something other than his fancy highlighter suit. Today he wore a tight sweatshirt and baggy pants, his hair was curly and you noticed how his roots started to grow back. Hah. Fake Blonde.

“Keep saying that to yourself baby- oh sorry, I keep forgetting you’re Walker’s” and not mine he wanted to say.

Oh, you had enough, solar flares danced your fingertips, impacient.

“Keep talking shit and i’ll have the pleasure of ripping your tongue out Homelander from Temu” Venom laced your words as you stood up, breathing heavily

“Oh? Supergirl has a boyfriend now? i’m hurt” He smirked, he knows how to push her buttons.

He loved it

Walker had enough too, putting the file down.

“Solara, Sentry-training room, now. Work out your issues before you break another window or one of you ends up dead. And Sentry no, I have a wife and kid, Solara and I are friends, nothing more. And if we were, that wouldnt concern you”

Sentry did a mocking soldier salute, but his eyes still lit up with malice “My favorite part of the day starts now.

Training Room

You squared off in the ring, the rest of the team watching from behind the glass. Sentry circled you, golden energy crackling at his fingertips.

“Ready to get schooled again, Solaris?” He smirked, eyes glinting with challenge.

You flexed your hands, solar energy pulsing beneath your skin. Already used to his shitty nicknames “I’ll try not to bruise your ego this time.”

He lunged, faster than sound, but you met him head-on-heat vision grazing his shoulder as he dodged. He laughed, delighted. “That all you got?”

You grinned, letting a solar flare ripple across your knuckles. “Not even close.”

He tried to pin you, but you twisted free, landing a punch that sent him skidding across the mat. He sat up, blonde hair hair wild, and grinned. “Damn, Titanium. You’re almost fun.”

Titanium? thats a new one

You offered him a hand up. “Almost?”

He took it, pulling you closer than necessary. “Keep this up, and you might even impress me.”

Suddenly a voice echoed through the intercom. “Just kiss already!”

You flushed, shoving Sentry away. He just laughed, as his back hit the wall with a loud thud oof he probably dented it, Bucky is gonna have my head

“You need to stop doing that Lena, seriously!” You tell her looking at the camera.

You felt her shrug “Can’t help it, im bored and spying people is the only good thing to do today” her voice boomed over the room”

You walked to Sentry again, pulling him up with your superstrength.

“You dented the way, Bucky is gonna make us eat shit” and he could only agree, a nervious drop of sweat dripped down his forehead.

Hallway

Yelena came down the security room, and looped her arm through yours. “He likes you, you know.” Her thick russian accent lacing through each word

You rolled your eyes. “He likes picking fights.”

She grinned. “Same thing, for him.”

Behind you, Sentry called out, “Hey, Titanium! Don’t forget-rematch tonight. Winner picks the movie.”

You shot him a look over your shoulder. “Hope you like rom-coms.”

He winked. “Hope you like losing.”

Yelena snickered. “Iconic.”

You couldn’t help but smile, the echo of Sentry’s laughter following you down the hall, the storm between you and him just beginning to rumble.

03. Eye of the Storm

The Tower’s atmosphere was lighter after that specific training session, but you couldn’t shake the feeling that the calm wouldn’t last. You, Yelena and Ava wandered into the kitchen, finding Alexei and Bucky arguing over the best way to make coffee.

“American coffee is like sewer water!” Alexei boomed, slapping the counter for emphasis.

Bucky shot him a deathly glare. “At least it doesn’t taste like jet fuel.”

Yelena rolled her eyes and grabbed a mug for you two “Ignore them, They’ve been at it for an hour.”

You grinned, pouring yourself some of Bucky’s “dirty water” and leaning against the counter. “I’ll take my chances. What do you think Ava?”

The girls looked at Ava spectantly, Ava shrugged while looking for something in the cabinet.

“Dont ask me, i’m british, we prefer tea” She dipped the tea bag, added hot water and sat with you two

“Cheers!” you clinked your mugs together.

Before you could take a sip, the lights flickered. You exchanged a look with the both of them-trouble, again.

John’s voice crackled over the intercom. “Everyone to the conference room. Now.”

•••

The team gathered, tension thickening as John face was unusually grim.

“AIM’s back,” he announced, tossing a flash drive onto the table. “They’re not just after us-they’re after the tech and put a bounty on Sentry and Solara.”

Sentry’s jaw flexed, but he kept his tone light. “Guess we’re popular, Titanium.”

You frowned, reviewing the files Walker pulled up. Schematics, blueprints, and a list of names-yours and Sentry’s at the top.

Yelena whistled. “They really don’t like you two.”

Alexei grinned. “Means you’re doing something right.”

Bucky leaned forward, voice low. “We need to be ready. If they come for us, we fight back-but we do it smart. No more solo heroics.” Now staring at Sentry

Sentry’s eyes flicked to you, something serious beneath the cocky exterior. “Don’t worry, Barnes. I’ll keep an eye on princess here.”

and here you thought y’all were progressing

You shot him a look. “I can handle myself, thank you very much”

He smirked. “I know. But where’s the fun in that?”

Later – Rooftop

You found yourself on the Tower’s rooftop, enjoying some time alone. The city lights stretching out below, it was an incredible view. Sentry landed beside you, arms folded, light steps.

“Can’t sleep?” he asked, voice softer than usual.

You shook your head. “Just thinking.”

He studied you for a moment. “You’re not scared, are you?”

You scoffed. “Of AIM? pff please.”

He stepped closer, the air buzzing between you. “Good. Because if you were, I’d have to do something stupid. Like save you again.”

You rolled your eyes to your brain, but your heart skipped a beat. “You’re impossible.”

He grinned, leaning in just enough for his hand to brush your cheek. “You love it.”

You swatted his hand like a mosquito, he feigned being hurt.

Before you could reply, the alarm blared-red lights flashing through the night.

“Emergency – Tower Under Siege!”

You and Sentry spring down the stairwell, meeting the team in the lounge.

Bucky tossed you two a pair of comm. “They’re here. Solara, Sentry-you’re with me. Yelena, Alexei, Ghost, Walker -secure the lower levels.”

Sentry cracked his knuckles, golden light flaring. “Ready, Solaris?”

You nodded, solar energy pulsing at your fingertips. “Let’s show them why we’re at the top of their list.”

He winked, stepping in front of you as the doors exploded inward, AIM soldiers pouring into the hall.

“Stay behind me,” he teased.

You shoved past him, blasting the first wave with a solar flare. “Keep up, Sentry.”

He laughed, launching himself into the fray. “Atta girl!”

Aftermath

The fight was brutal but swift. Solara and Sentry moved in perfect sync-his raw power and your precision overwhelming the intruders. When the dust settled, Sentry hovered above the last unconscious soldier on the stairwell grinning down at you.

“Not bad, Stellar. Almost makes me want to let you win next time.”

You wiped sweat from your brow, smirking. “In your dreams.”

He floated down, landing close enough that you could see the gold flecks in his eyes. “Every night, Solara.”

You shoved him playfully, but your heart hammered in your chest. The first time he called you by your actual hero name.

The others came by and you regrouped, finishing the job together.

The storm between you was growing, and you weren’t sure how much longer you could resist.

04. Calm Before the Crash

The Tower was quiet, the kind of silence that made every sound echo. Most of the team had gone to bed, but you found yourself by the rooftop ‘s emergency door, soaking in the last rays of the city’s lights. You let the energy hum beneath your skin, feeling the gentle warmth that always lingered after a fight.

If it weren’t for your superhearing, you wouldn’t have noticed Sentry approaching you quietly. For someone so powerful, he surely knows how to be sneaky. You trully were’nt in the mood for fighting so before you clapped at him coming to pick on you, you reconsidered your choices as you looked at him

He leaned on the railing beside you, eyes scanning the skyline. For once, he didn’t wear his cocky grin. He looked tired-haunted, lost even.

You broke the silence first. “Can’t sleep?”

He shook his head. “Not lately.” Wow, who would’ve thought this almighty god had trouble sleeping?

You studied him, seeing the tension in his jaw, the way his hands flexed as if fighting something invisible. You mentally, debated what you wanted to do. Ugh, i’m so going to regret this later

“You want to talk about it?”

He hesitated, then sat on the low wall, elbows on his knees. This pose made him look so fragile “Do you know what it’s like to be afraid of yourself?” His voice was raw, stripped of all the sarcasticness it used to have all the time.

You suprised yourself by sitting beside him, close but not touching. “Sometimes. My powers…they’re a gift, but they’re also a burden. If I take in too much solar energy, I could level a city. If I don’t take enough sun, I get weak, sick. There’s never a perfect balance.”

He nodded at your statement, staring at his hands. “When I got my powers, it was supposed to be a miracle. I was just a guy- Robert Reynolds used to be my only name. Messed up, addicted, looking for a way out. I participated in a human testing experiment, not caring what would happen, hell I trully didnt care if I died. They gave me a serum, and suddenly I was a god. But there was a catch. The darkness within me came with it-I call it The Void. It’s always there, whispering, waiting for me to slip and take over. I’m terrified of what I’ll do if I lose control.”

You listened, heart aching for him with simpathy. “People see the power, not the cost. Only want the glory. They don’t understand what consequences comes with holding any power. ”

He looked at you, eyes shining in the city lights. “If I let myself feel, I’d fall apart. The Void feeds on that. It wants me to be alone.“

You reached out, your hand covering his. “You’re not alone, Sentry, I know what it’s like to feel like you’re one mistake away from disaster. But you’re more than the Void.”

He squeezed your hand, his grip trembling. You continue. “You’re more than your power.” You found yourself telling him words that you once wanted to hear.

Smiling, feeling the warmth of his skin and the truth in his words. “Hell, I can’t believe im saying this. You’re an amazing hero Sentry, the way you contribute to the team in your own way is very special. Yes they’re may be times that I want to strap you to a rocket full of grenades, or even throw you off the Burj Khalifa for being a little shit. Still do to be honest, you wont leave me alone”

He chuckled “You want my head, I get it”

“But even after all that, I think you shouldnt give in to the darkness. I’m sure the team would be willing to help you out too”

“They all have been shoved down my ass enough” Remembering the events a few years ago. Solara probably doesnt know, maybe its for the better.

“You’re not alone in this Sentry”

“You can call me Bob… well, if you want I mean. Sentry is a sickass name, way better than Bob, probably the best name around here hahah” He said with a cocky toothy grin nudging your shoulder. And there he is

“Well Bob, since we’re doing friendly introductions. You can call me, Y/N”

“Y/N” He tasted the way her name felt on his tongue “Its nice, fits you like a glove, princess”

For a long moment, you sat together in the quiet, two people carrying the weight of the world, finding solace in each other’s presence. For the first time ever, his dickheadness wasn’t so bad.

The storm inside both of you eased, if only for a little while.

05. Breaking Point

After the last attack, the Tower was humming with tension. You’d barely slept, senses on edge, always listening for the next alarm. Sentry Bob had become a little distant since your rooftop talk. Not suprising. You caught glimpses of him in the halls sometimes, golden aura flickering like a warning sign.

You were in the gym, pounding out your anxiety on a punching bag, when the emergency lights flashed red. Sirens blared. The comm crackled with Bucky’s voice:

“Guys, we’ve got incoming-AIM, these dickheads aren’t holding back. Sentry, Solara, Yelena front line. The rest of us will follow. Ava, report and go stealth mode”

Using your superspeed, you suited up quick and sprinted for the main hall, Yelena at your side. “Stay close, Дорогая. Let’s hope that Ken Doll doesnt do anything stupid”

You managed a grin. “No promises.”

The main doors exploded inward. AIM soldiers in advanced exo-suits stormed in, weapons glowing with unfamiliar energy. At their center stood out a white figure-AIM’s new soldier weapon, its suit peculiary powered by the mysterious tech.

Sentry landed beside you, face grim. “Stay behind me, Titanium.”

You bristled. “Nope, not happening”

The fight was chaos. Sentry tore through the first wave, Yelena and Solara focused on taking down the second incoming one together, but the AIM soldier unleashed a pulse that sent him crashing into a wall. Unnotices by you, something flickered in his eyes as he staggered to his feet.

You blasted the weapon with a solar flare, drawing its attention to you. “Come on, big guy. Pick on someone your own size.”

It charged you, and a fight between the two of you broke in. That thing was fast, enhanced, powerful. It threw a punch but you caught it with ease. However, the person under let a chuckle as it blasted the tech’s energy through its widow bites?? hitting you and making you loose balance. This caught you off guard but you absorbed the next energy blast, letting it fuel you. Your skin glowed, hair floating as you unleashed everything you had-a beam of pure solar energy that you knew would knock them out. It did.

Unnoticed by you, a soldier prepared to attack from behind, his weapon pointed to you head as he was taken out inmediately. Sentry was at your side in a flash, but something in his eyes were wrong-too dark, too wild.

“You’re messing with the wrong people, if you want to live, you can walk away now” His tone was filled with undeniable malice.

A soldier charged at him but was instantly turned into a shadow?? “Or not, be my guest”

More soldiers followed to battle, however he brutally manhandled-every-single one with ease. He had a wild grin on his face, his eyes glowing white as the time passed.

Yelena quickly came to your side “Oh no, its happening again. Sol, quick you have to stop him” Her russian accent laced with something you would’ve never thought you would hear, fear

You didnt question her further and quickly made way to his side, grabbing his arm to try and pull him to his senses. Sentry grabbed your neck, grip tight. “Who do you think you’re? trying to stop me? i’m a god, you’re nothing”

He slams you to the wall, you wheezed as his grip tightened. “I dont know what he sees in you, you’re weak” He continues as he gets closer and smells your hair, a whiff of your shampoo makes him smirk. Your thighs involuntarily clenched as his right hand caress your hips leaning by your ear. “You want this don’t you, I can give it to you.”

Having enough, you cupped his face, with the remaining energy you had left, forcing him to look at you, your light meeting his darkness. “You’re stronger than this, Bob. I’m here. I won’t let you go.”

For a moment, you saw him-the real Bob-fighting to surface. He blinked, eyes going back to normal. Sentry’s eyes widened as he saw the position you guys were in, and looked back to the battlefield. You two shared a look that said fight, talk later as more soldier barged in

The battle ended in minutes. The team regrouped, battered but alive.

•••

The members gathered around the table, eating comfortably and chatting. This was a common routine after a big battle. However, Sentry sat by the window apart from everyone. His eyes held that haunted gaze you saw in the rooftop. Everyone noticed how tense you two were after the incident, but nobody dared to ask. You approached slowly, placing a gentle hand on his arm.

“Wanna eat anything? You should before the fridge ends up in Alexei and John’s stomachs” you whispered.

He looked at you, voice broken. “I lost it. I almost hurt you.”

You squeezed his hand. “But you didn’t. You fought it. Besides, i’m a big girl, I can handle myself” You flexed your bicep.

He let out a small laugh, some of the darkness easing from his eyes. “Keep telling yourself that, Solara”

For the first time, you felt hope-maybe, together, you could weather any storm.

06. Fracture

The Tower was messier than usual. AIM’s attack had left damage beyond the usual “repaint, move on” You courtly greeted the usual construction team working on the repairs as you made your way to the conference room.

The team gathered around the round table. Alexei sat besides his daughter who had a bored look on her face, Ava sat one chair apart leaving space for you, John sat on the other side with a small note pad filled with what you would assume were things he wanted to discuss, and lastly bucky stood by the whiteboard with some files.

The only missing one was Sentry. Not that you cared anyway.

“Sentry will be here later. He had a meeting with Valentina.” Bucky said for the team’s knowledge. Although the team didn’t have a formal leader, you all secretly agreed that if they were to be one, it had to be him. After all, he was the one that brought them together. Bucky rights on the board “Mission Report” damn. his handwriting is neat for a fossil.

“Anything you wanna comment on?” He asks before Ava raises her hand “Yes, they were twice the people we encountered before. At least 30 people per group, all armed with the same type of weapons”

You add thinking deeply “There was this person, who had a mask and a white suit, I would guess that was their leader. Although this person’s fighting style was different, but very familiar…almost like an enhanced black widow” You said truthfully.

Yelena turned to her in disbelief “You can’t be serious are you? The Red Room is gone, my sister and I made sure of that. “ You saw the pained look on her face when she mentioned Natasha.

“Dreykov’s dead, and not a single widow remains under the room’s control since we freed them all.” She huffed and Alexei rubbed her back, calming her down “Sorry, I got carried away, please continue” You gave her a sad smile, knowing that this was a sensitive topic “The person’s suit was oddly similar to the widow’s suits, also, they blasted me with two wrist guards similar to what you and Nat use. Coincidence? I think not”

John butts in, interest in his tone “Are you saying there may be a widow involved with this mysterious organization?” You nodded and Yelena rubbed her temple, clearly stressed.

“Well if there is one, she’s enhanced. I saw through the vents how she took down the lower level guards with ease.” Ava said. “Also, when are we gonna discuss what happened with Sentry back there? Seriously, he was crazier than usual”

Bucky nods “Solara, Yelena, when Sentry lost control, what happened before that?” You girls look at each other trying to remember

“Ah!” Yelena snaps her finger, remembering

“The white soldier blasted him with weird energy while me and Solara took down the others at the sides. You nod and add “After that, he completely changed” Everything discussed, John writes it down on his notepad. “Do you think the weapon had something to do?” Yelena asks Bucky.

Bucky grimmed, a clear thought passing through his head “This is more serious than I thought.”

Ava asks “What is it?” Bucky looked her way “We may be dealing with something similar to Superman’s red kryptonite. In the comics, the green one weakened him, the red one, however, made him loose control”

John snorted, eyes still on his pad “Didn’t take you for the kind that reads comics” Bucky palms his face grunting “It’s called having hobbies, Walker. And the first came out in 1938, for your information” Alexei stopped the banter “Sargent Barnes, if this is the case, what should we do? will Sentry turn on us?” He asked him with concern

“No I dont think he will, but we need to be precautios of whats coming. Keep Sentry at bay and investigate further. We can schedule a undercover mission to gather intel.” Everyone nodded.

Bucky hands Alexei some files which he passes around. “Some of the people arrested had criminal backstories with Hydra and Shield. Look for valuable info, Yelena if you can, get something out of any of them. That’s all for today”

The door opened, Sentry entered with his usual cocky grin. “Hope I didnt miss much” Bucky sighed and quicky summarized the meeting, including the part of the red kryptonite situation.

“Damn, Buck, who would’ve knew you read comics.” Sentry said with a raised eyebrow. John laughed loudly at his comment, fist bumping him. “I told him the same thing dude!” However, the energy of the room felt uneasy after that meeting.

•••

You found yourself in the kitchen later in the night, trying to make coffee, but the machine sputtered and died with a sad wheeze.

“Need help, Solaris?” Sentry’s voice behind you was a little too close, a little too smug.

You didn’t turn around. “Unless you can fix a coffee maker with your ego, I’m good.”

He leaned in, voice low. “My ego fixes a lot of things, sunshine.”

You snorted, grabbing another mug from the cabinet. “Like what? Your reputation for being a pain in my ass?”

He grinned, eyes glinting. “And you love it.”

You rolled your eyes, but your heart hammered. He was too close, heat radiating off him like a second sun. “You wish.”

He stepped back, cocky and casual, but you saw the tension in his jaw. You think he wanted you riled up, going back to his usual ways, rooftop talk long gone, and damn if it wasn’t working.

Yelena strolled in, hair in a half bun, jeans and hoodie, wait, isnt that my hoodie? . She eyed the two of you, then the broken coffee maker. “You two flirting or fighting? Hard to tell these days.” You shot her a glare. “He’s being insufferable.” Sentry shrugged, grabbing an apple from the counter. “She started it.” Yelena grinned. “If you two finally hook up, can you keep it down? Some of us need sleep.”

You choked on your coffee. Sentry just smirked, biting into the apple with a wink.

•••

Later, Bucky called a meeting in the lounge. “Someone infiltrated our database and our security team. We’re on lockdown until we figure out who leaked it. groups only. No one goes anywhere alone.”

Yelena immediately claimed you as her partner, but Bucky shook his head. “Solara, you’re with Sentry. Yelena, you’re with Ava. Alexei, John you’re with me.” You groaned. “Seriously?” Sentry’s grin was pure trouble.

You stomped furiously down the hallway to your room. Sentry following close. At your door you turned to face him “If you snore, I’m blasting you into the sun.” He leaned close, voice dropping. “You’d have to get close enough to find out.”

You shoved him, but he caught your wrist, pinning you to the door with a loud thudz The air buzzed with electricity. “Careful, sunshine,” he murmured, eyes locked on yours. “You keep pushing, I might just push back.” You glared, fighting the blush forming on your face. “Let go.” He did, but not before his thumb traced a line over your lips. “You’re fun when you’re mad.”

Having enough, you push him hard again and opened the door, craving to close it in his face and breaking all his perfect teeth. Inside, he glanced around your room: spacious, but comfortable. All sorts of paintings and posters decorated the walls, a small desk was filled with pens, notes, your bed was unkempt in a way that it meant that you planned to nap later. He saw a makeup vanity covered with polaroids of the team, you Yelena and Ava making funny faces, John sleeping on the couch and Alexei putting whip cream on his spralled hand, Bucky asleep as you drew things on his face with a smile and him in the back reading. He smiled at the sight.

You removed your hoodie staying only in a crop top, his eyes following you as you reached for the tv remote on the nightstand. You glanced his way “If you’re done staring, make yourself comfortable”

He sits on the edge of your bed, unsure when you said “I hope you like romcoms, you owe me one”

•••

Hours later, you woke up and found him in the floor, sitting alone in the dark. The cockiness was gone, replaced by shadows.

You glanced from the bed, silent for a moment. “You okay?”

He didn’t look at you. “I just thinking about that day, when I lost control”

You patted your side motioning him to sit, he does. “You didn’t. You fought it.”

He let out a shaky breath. “You make it sound so easy”

You swallowed, heart pounding. Remebering how the dark version of him gripped your neck, caressed your hip and whispered things in your ear

He turned, searching your face. “You’re dangerous, Y/N. You make me want to do things I shouldn’t.”

Sentry’s face starts getting closer to yours, you felt his breath on your lips.

The moment stretched, electric and fragile. You pulled away panicking “Let’s go to sleep” you quicky turned around, heart pounding against your sternum.

Sentry laughed, and the tension broke-but something had shifted between you. The storm was coming, and you weren’t sure you wanted to outrun it anymore.

[erwinsvow]

I think with the combination of all the Abbot fics I've been consuming and your pope x babysitter fic that has possessed my mind body and soul I've been ruminating on what pope would think or do if he was working and babysitter and Lena got into some kind of medical emergency, like an accident or assaulted (not sa) or something silly (traumatic) like that and he gets the call to come to the ER. The rage, the panic, the guilt, the floof. It's been my end of the day "time to world build a silly situation before I go to sleep" daydream.

oh this made me UNWELL. unwell.

his phone goes off while at smurf's—unusual, but not enough to make him panic immediately. you sometimes like to text or call to check in on him throughout the day, ever since you both made the jump from babysitter and dad to... whatever you are right now. he wants to say girlfriend and boyfriend but it sounds so silly in his head. you're more his wife and he's more your husband than anything else.

he knows that because your apartment's lease is ending next month and you have no plans to renew. he's been moving clothes around in baz's to make room for your belongings, and looking at other properties to see if there's somewhere bigger and nice he could get for you and lena.

so when his phone goes off, he thinks its you. when he sees the number flashing from the local hospital, he gets up right away, steps out briefly to take the call and ignoring his family in the other room. and his blood runs cold—hi, is this mister andrew cody? yes, i'm calling from the emergency room, your daughter and wife were hurt in a car accident—

and he has tunnel vision, not listening to smurf and craig yelling after him, getting in his truck and speeding to the hospital as fast as his feet can take him. he parks somewhere he probably shouldn't, brings his gun tucked into his waistband because someone is going to pay for this, and runs straight to the counter where he asks for you and lena. begs, demands, pleads. he needs to make sure you're both okay, expecting the worst, thinking he's ruined yet another good thing, that the only good things in his life are disintegrating with each passing minute.

and you're sitting behind a curtain, getting stitches on your forehead and arm. lena is okay, with a bruise that makes andrew angry the longer he looks at it. he goes in first to hug her, holding on too tightly, he's sure, checking her head for anything they could have missed. and then you—seeing blood on your pretty skin makes him irrationally upset. he's thankful he brought his gun inside.

"this lady," you start, after thanking the doctor and the nurse and lena taking her side by you on the bed. "she was old, i think maybe she didn't see the stop sign. but she feels terrible. i hope she's okay—"

"i don't," andrew interrupts. you gape at him, eyebrows furrowed.

"don't say that! it was an accident. we're fine, that's all that matters-"

"you could have not been fine," he says, the very idea that some demented old lady two seconds away from knocking on death's door could have taken both of you away from him making his vision blurry.

"but we are," you press, taking andrew's hand into yours. even in this state, even with everything going on, you still remember to take care of him. "we're okay, right, lena?" and she smiles up at him.

he doesn't deserve you.

"you got here fast," you say, rubbing your fingers on his knuckles, his racing heart steadying. you were okay. maybe that would have to be enough today. the metal of his gun feels cool against his skin.

he wants to say it. didn't exactly stop at red lights or listen to the speed limit. but nothing comes out, so he just stares. like he wouldn't—like he would linger where he was, take his time coming to see you. like you and lena being hurt in this hospital bed wouldn't mean that his life was over too.

you smile up at him, your other hand firm on lena's. and he smiles back, and for now, that'll have to be enough.

(though, a few days later, the insurance concludes it wasn't your fault. your poor car is totaled, and they'll be paying more than you expected to help get you a new one. and when you ask about the old lady, the one who hit you, if she's okay now, the agent laughs uncomfortably. she's fine, but she won't be driving anytime soon. someone stole her keys and punctured three tires, and well, insurance only covers it if all four are ruined at once.)

[householdcryptid]

i need to talk about how Pope's love language is physical touch. bro is ALWAYS touching the people he cares about. (hugging lena frequently, all the claps on the backs, the wrestling with his brothers, even the weird shit with smurf, etc.)

baby boy just wants to be held :( like, we see it with amy AND angela that he wants to curl up and lay his head in someones lap and just be taken care of, PROPERLY.

he makes me Actually sick dude like he makes me SAD. i don't understand how there are people out there who don't like him. he's so tragic and beautifully written and i need him to be in a happy, loving relationship with a woman who isn't trying to USE him.

anyway all that to say his biggest kink is emotional intimacy and cuddles /hj

[mooosicaldreamz]

follow the signs (supercorp)

this is for @ekingston's crazy prompt-a-whirl thingy. i got fluff + fake dating + forced to share a cab + fortune cookie which was very lucky in my opinion. and they all start with f! wow. anyway here it is, sitting at EXACTLY 1K. here's the thingy if you want to do it too.

Kara is waiting for a cab. It is midnight in Jacksonville, Florida. She’s here for a wedding she’d planned to avoid, but then Mon-El had called her and Kara had lied out her butt and said yes, me and my girlfriend will be there. And it hadn’t even been grammatically correct, let alone true.

Kara didn’t have a girlfriend. She had a career and hopes for a puppy. She and Mon-El had broken up a year ago and that’d been her last romance.

Lena had been a random choice for her fake girlfriend, the only person Kara could think of who she was close enough to ask to participate in this harebrained scheme, but also someone who had never met Mon-El. She and Lena had met at a press conference when Kara had cornered Lena in a hallway and been tased by Lena’s security guards.

Lena had been less than pleased with their actions and had offered Kara a one-on-one interview, and it’d been off to the races from there. It was nice to have a new, different kind of friend - Lena was rich, too smart for her own good, and indulged Kara more than others might advise. Case in point: they are sitting on a bench outside Jacksonville International at midnight.

“I’m starving,” Kara laments, digging through her bag in the hopes that she’ll unearth something.

“Are you sure you don’t want me to call a chauffeur?” Lena asks.

“No, the cab should be here soon,” Kara sighs. “I’m sorry for this mess, Lena. I know this probably isn’t how you like to travel.”

“I don’t mind,” Lena shrugs. “Flights get delayed whether they’re private or not, and it’s not as though commercial domestic first class is terrible. I think you’re overestimating my need for fancy things.”

“Tell that to your Balenciaga sweatshirt,” Kara says. Lena smacks at her lazily. She’s so pretty, is the thing. Kara could have gone out and got a real girlfriend, or asked someone Mon-El hadn’t known well, but when she’d settled down a few weeks ago and convinced herself to go through with her nonsensical lie, Lena had been the only option in her mind. She’d been the only option she even wanted to consider.

“Is that them?” Lena asks, nodding as a bright orange cab pulls up. Kara jumps up excitedly - and then stalls as the driver climbs out of the car and comes sprinting around the hood directly at her.

“Kara!” Mon-El yells.

“Frick,” Kara mutters as he pulls her into a hug. She looks over at Lena with wide eyes and makes sure to enunciate: “Mon-El, it’s so good to see you!”

She watches as Lena raises one eyebrow and then sighs loudly with an incredible amount of boredom. It distracts Mon-El enough that Kara can withdraw from his cloying hug. He’s sweating. It’s gross.

“Hi, you must be Kara’s girlfriend!” he says enthusiastically. Lena shuffles closer to Kara’s side until she can grip Kara’s whole elbow in her fingers in a vaguely possessive way. 

“Yes, this is Lena,” Kara says, nearly swallowing her tongue. She and Lena are not really touchy, which is not how Kara would prefer it, but Lena is sometimes shy and unsure and one time Kara had hugged her in greeting and Lena had almost cried, so Kara’s been taking it slow. This is the fourth time they’ve touched with this amount of intention today alone. It’s a new record. Maybe Jacksonville wouldn’t be so bad. 

“Nice to meet you, I’m Mon-El,” he grins, looking happy. “Just making a little extra cash before the big day this Sunday. Did you guys just get in?”

“Yeah,” Kara says, grabbing Lena’s suitcase as well as her own and starting to wheel them over to the curb. Mon-El had always hated when she did things that were, per his understanding of the world, things the guy does, which she had on rare occasions found sweet.

It doesn’t matter now, because Kara is swiftly and decisively entering Lena Luthor girlfriend mode. And that includes putting the suitcases in the back of the cab, despite the fact that Lena’s is tagged overweight and nearly breaks her wrist.

When she turns back after shutting the trunk, Lena is smiling at her, and Kara is pretty sure that Jacksonville might really be alright. She takes Lena Luthor girlfriend mode a step further, opening the passenger side door for Lena and waiting gallantly for her to slide in before closing it. 

Mon-El looks giddy when they meet face-to-face at the driver’s side. He points subtly down at the cab and goes, “Dude. Hell yeah.” And then he raises up his hand for a high-five.

When Mon-El hadn’t been the most infuriating boyfriend possible, Kara had liked him. This was one of the reasons why. She smacks her palm into his and then slides into the car, smiling probably dopily over at Lena, who smiles back before digging into her leather tote purse thing and extends, out of nowhere, a fortune cookie.

“I think this is from when we got Chinese last week,” Lena says, shrugging. “If you’re still hungry.”

“I am so hungry, you are the best,” Kara gasps. Lena laughs at her as she pulls the package open and the cab pulls away from the curb. When she cracks it in half, she shoves half of it in her mouth and unfurls the paper. She laughs at what she reads. “It is time you ask that special someone on a date.”

She watches as Lena’s cheeks go a little pink in the lights beginning to whiz by. She’s pretty.

“Oh, Mr. Fortune Cookie, Kara’s already there,” Mon-El says. Lena laughs quietly. Kara reaches out to grasp her hand where it’s clutched in the supple leather of her bag, initiating their fifth consequential touch of the day. Lena looks at her for a long second before she moves to lace their fingers together. 

Jacksonville is gonna be so good. She can feel it.

[girthgrudgefear]

his one indulgence | andrew 'pope' cody x reader

plot summary?: exhausted of what he’s asked to give on a daily basis, the time comes for pope to take. or: the reader gives everything to pope and more.

contains?: pope cody, reader insert, mentions of smurf, deran, craig, baz, and j.

warnings?: 18+/minors dni; p in v sex; no protection mentioned; semi-rough sex

word count: who knows dawg. enjoy

it's late, definitely past midnight. and pope shouldn't be here.

pope shouldn't be here, but pope knows you want him here. and it's a foreign feeling to him, being wanted. not even his mother wants him around. that much was clear from the look on her face when he came home the day before yesterday - eyes slightly widened, smile tight, but arms ever-inviting.

the glance over her shoulder at his estranged nephew as she pulled him in close for a hug.

pope knows he can be off-putting; he nearly gets off on it really, how he can depend on the way people tense up in his presence.

and you.

you scare easily but you never learned to be afraid of pope. you knew fully what he was capable of, and most of the things he's done - both by his word of mouth and through the grapevine. he was the boogeyman of the oceanside to everyone but you.

to you, he was just andrew.

pope turned to where you sleep soundly beside him.

you were sprawled out on your belly, both arms tucked underneath your pillow. your cheek stayed smushed against the satin material as he reached down, knuckles ghosting over the lovebite on your neck.

pope was selfish for coming here and he knew it.

but pope never gets to be selfish. that's a luxury reserved for only his brothers. craig goes off on benders every other weekend, consuming whatever drug he can get his hands on quick enough. deran gets to shirk his responsibilities and tuck tail the moment smurf pisses him off. and baz is leading a double-life in mexico, having his fill of lucy while cath and lena are waiting for him at home.

but pope gets nothing. and pope is supposed to be content with nothing. but not this time.

pope's hand wanders lower, caught between your body and the duvet. he presses one finger between your shoulder blades, traces the skin until his fingers reach the dip in your spine. he knows you're awake when you shudder under his touch, grip the pillow tighter for a second and then relax against it once more.

you look up at him for a brief moment, meet that brooding gaze of his before you shut your eyes again and smile. when you open them again, he's still looking at you, every bit of you that isn't hidden under the covers.

“can't sleep?”

pope doesn't reply to your question. he knows you aren't expecting one, never shy at the prospect of silence settling between the pair of you. instead, his hand, once exploring your body freely, settles on your waist. almost gingerly manipulates you until you're laying on your back.

you follow his gentle prompting with little more than a sigh. you sound almost put-upon, sleep turning your voice husky, but he knows it's all a rouse. you'd do little to dissuade him, even less to deny him when he wanted you.

needed you.

“again?” you ask him, again, not expecting a reply. you use your arm to hold the blanket out and up, giving him enough space to settle atop of you in the middle of the bed. your nightgown rose up and around your hips somewhere along the way. and as for pope, he does little but shuck his boxers down his thighs before he's occupying the space you've made for him.

he knows you're tired. this would be round two for the night, the first of which put you to bed in the first place. it was afterward that he sat by your side, your ever-loyal guard dog, watching the rise and fall of your chest as he tried to find any reason within him to not be greedy.

but when you look at him the way you're looking at him now, like he put the sun and the moon in the sky, he doesn't know what to do with himself besides take everything you have to offer and then some.

the effect pope has on you is immediate. he's inside of you with one quick thrust, relishing in the way your breath catches. he knows he should be gentler with you, give you time to get used to him, but he can't wait. he needs to feel you, be close to you. know how much of him you can take (though he knows the answer is everything and more).

pope pulls his hips back until he’s nearly slipping out of you. he’s snapping forward until his pelvis is flush against yours, relishing in the way the force of his thrusts sends you up in the bed with him. the noise you make is fucked out of you, visceral even, somewhere caught between pain and pleasure, torture and bliss.

and his pace is bruising, he refuses to let up; you feel new shades of purple and blue forming on top of the ones he’s given you earlier, layering over the finger marks to your thighs and hips.

it’s in the back of your mind, the way he caught you coming through the door from work. how a simple check-in turned to you coaxing him close, laying gentle kisses to his jaw until something inside of him broke.

pope is pressing inside of you, deeper, until he’s nudging right up against that place that puts white spots in your vision. he feels the shift, sees it in the way you begin to pant underneath him, eyes hazy, jaw slack.

“please. please.” you’re panting underneath him now, tilting your hips upward until they’re rolling in tandem with his.

you don’t even know what you’re begging for, don’t care, too suspended in this limbo to focus on anything other than what’s being given to you.

and your request is fulfilled in two thrusts, three; you’re shaking against pope and he slows for a moment, languidly fucking you through your orgasm, leaning down to swallow your whimpers with a hot kiss to your open mouth.

mid-kiss and his pace quickens. you whine against his bottom lip, the pleasure and pain separated by something as thin as a knife’s edge. still you make no move to dissuade pope, and something inside of him purrs.

that feeling carries him until his rhythm falters, hips stuttering as he struggles to keep with the pace he’s set. still, you reach up, pay no mind to the way he pulls back for a millisecond before both palms settle over him. one rests at the edge of his cheek, the other carding through his hair, tugging lightly at his curls.

and he’s there, stilling on top of you and pushing as deeply as he can, eyes screwing shut at the feeling of it, the feeling of you. he makes no noise other than a hoarse grunt, breath still coming out of him in quick bursts through his nostrils.

you feel so good that he doesn’t stop thrusting until he’s semi-hard, pulling back to watch his spend leak out of you once he slips out for a final time. your sigh is weary as you stare up at him, both of your hands having slipped down to his chest to run your palms against the flushed skin.

“will you come to bed now?” you ask, eyes already heavy from fatigue.

and as pope lays down next to you, you turn on your side to face him. he does the same.

your eyes begin to close when he speaks next. “i’ll try.”

you hum, already halfway under.

and for what it’s worth, pope really did try. but he found that some things, like watching you while you rest, safe and sound and within reach, were far better than sleep.

fin

[natalievoncatte]

Lena was waking up, and not in her own bed. She was somewhere warm, swaddled in a heavy blanket. Her head was pounding and she didn’t want to open her eyes. A soft mewling sound tumbled from her lips, and she made as if to blink. Her eyes felt gummy and stuck shut.

“Shhhh,” a small, soft voice murmured. “I’ve got you. You’re okay.”

“Wuh?”

“Just rest,” Kara said.

It was easy to rest. He head fell against the wall of muscle that was Kara’s chest and pillowed on her breast and Lena let out a soft sigh, shifting a bit as she came around and grew more wakeful. She was sitting in Kara’s lap as Kara leaned back against a wall, and Kara had unclasped her cape and wrapped it around her in an impenetrable blanket.

As Lena opened her eyes, she saw that Kara was carding her fingers through Lena’s hair, so gently she barely felt it.

“Your hair is really pretty.”

“Thanks,” said Lena.

A kind of confusion swept through her. Weren’t they fighting? Lena was mad. She was furious. She was world-endingly, life-burn-downingly mad at the woman in whose lap she currently sat. Kara had lied to her about the fundamental nature of who she was and… and…

Lena didn’t feel mad.

“They gave you some pretty heavy drugs when they kidnapped you.”

“Kidnapped me?”

Kara let out a little snort. “You probably don’t remember. These were the lamest kidnappers, Lena. They nabbed you and immediately called me out. I found you and bagged them before you even came around from the drugs.”

“Thanks.”

“You probably won’t remember any of this later,” Kara sighed. “I just want to tell you I’m sorry again. I’m sorry I lied. It was wrong and you deserved better. I should have given you my trust the way you gave it to me.”

Lena blinked a few times but said nothing.

“I’ll never stop saving you. I will always protect you. Even if you never forgive me.”

Lena shifted slightly, pressing a little into Kara, who was now lightly teasing the tips of her fingers across Lena’s scalp, sending light tingles through her sleepy body. Kara yawned and shrugged.

“You okay? You warm enough?”

Lena nodded.

“Alex is coming with a team, she’ll make sure you’re all right. Go back to sleep, baby.”

Baby. That word sent a shockwave through her.

Lena’s eyes drifted shut. She was very tired and it made sense to sleep, to just let it all go. She was safe in Kara’s arms.

As she tumbled towards the dark, she felt the soft press of warm lips to her forehead.

“There’s still so much I want to tell you.”

Lena sighed and nuzzled into Kara’s shoulder. She was soft and warm and smelled heavenly, not just her lavender perfume but the soft smell of her. Lena never told Kara that she wanted to smell her armpits after spin class.

“You want to smell my armpits?!” Kara choked out.

Oh. That was supposed to be inside voice.

“Mmmhmm,” said Lena.

“Can I tell you something, since you probably won’t remember this later?”

“Sure.”

“I’m in love with you.”

Lena started, jolting a little more awake.

“No, shhh,” Kara said, pulling her into a tighter hug. “I know it doesn’t change anything. You don’t owe me anything. I’m just scared. I need you to know of something happens, if…” her breath caught. “If not fast enough.”

“Kara,” said Lena.

“Shh,” Kara murmured, touching a soft kiss to her forehead again that sent a jolt rippling through her.

“I don’t even know if you like girls. It’s just that was the real reason why I was so shitty and hid who I was. I was scared you’d leave if I told you and… and it happened anyway. I’m so sorry.”

Kara sighed.

“Sometimes I wish I could be human so there’d be no secret. I don’t know of Human Kara would have been brave enough to say anything to you but I’m a coward. It would be so easy if there was no lie.”

Lena opened her eyes and looked up. Hot tears glittered on Kara’s cheeks.

“And you know, if you lived with me, and not in that big fancy penthouse, nobody would kidnap you. I’d keep you safe and get you breakfast and make sure you eat before work and take care of you because you don’t take care of yourself.”

“Mmhm, and what do you get out of this arrangement?”

“Well,” said Kara, “I’d get to kiss the prettiest girl in the world.”

“Is that all?”

Kara’s throat bobbed as she swallowed. “Well. I could do more than kiss. I never have with another woman so I’m not sure how… but I want to…”

She brushed bright scarlet.

“I could teach you,” Lena whispered.

“Don’t do that,” said Kara. “Don’t dangle that in front of me, if there’s no chance.”

“Kara,” Lena murmured, her drugged brain grinding its gears a little, “you don’t fill someone’s office with flowers as a friendly gesture. One does not buy an entire billion dollar media empire to hang out with one person as a platonic exercise.”

“Oh,” said Kara.

“I thought you were straight,” said Lena. “It boggles my mind that you thought I was. Me? Really? Have you seen me?”

“Yes,” Kara was looking at her intently now. “I have seen you since the first day. When I saw you for the first time I felt something I’ve never felt before or since.”

“This fight we’re having,” said Lena. “It doesn’t really feel important right now.”

“I know, but you’re on drugs.”

“Will you kiss me?”

“No.”

Kara’s lips were trembling. She dipped slightly as if she’d changed her mind, then pulled back and pursed her lips, pressing her eyes tightly closed.

“You might not feel this way later. It would be wrong.”

Alex chose that exact moment to kick the door in, sending a shower of splinters across the room. Kara pivoted in anticipation, shielding Lena but twisting around so they were even closer, Kara’s stunning blue eyes filling Lena’s vision.

“If you still feel this way later, call me.”

From then it became a blur. Kara placed Lena gently on a stretcher and reclaimed her cap, then trudged a safe distance away and flew off.

Alex was curt and short with her as usual, fussing over unnecessary risks and complaining sharply that Lena got into too much trouble, before sharply cutting off the conversation when it got too friendly and storming off.

Lena ended up back in her penthouse by six, all in all a fairly convenient kidnapping and rescue. She trundled inside and sat down on the couch, staring straight ahead for a while before she went to pour a glass of scotch, then thought better of it.

The night was chilly. National City never really got cold, but on a January night it could be brisk. Lena leaned on her railing and stared out at the bright lights of the city, the flow of traffic beneath and the distant sounds of life and joy.

Suddenly she felt very cold.

“Kara,” she sighed.

In an instant she was there, appearing in a faint gust. Her cape billowed out majestically behind her, hair aloft on the wind currents like clouds of spun gold. Kara didn’t look like an angel; angels looked like Kara.

“Come inside.”

Lena turned and walked back into the warmer confines, hearing the gentle thud of Kara’s boots on the balcony and her soft footsteps walking over.

“Haven’t been here in a while.”

“I used to dream of you moving in with me,” Lena admitted.

Kara stood silently behind her, shifting on her feet.

“I used to think about pampering you every time you mentioned that your rent was high or joked about a reporter’s salary. I wanted to take care of you, treat you, give you fine things.”

“You don’t have to give me anything.”

Lena turned around and crossed the distance between them. With Lena barefoot and Kara in heels, she towered over her. Lena stepped aggressively into her space and Kara didn’t flinch as Lena curled her fingers in the collar of her suit and pulled her down.

She didn’t hesitate. She gently bracketed Lena’s hips in her hands and pulled her in, bending over her to bring their lips together, Kara’s every move soft and gentle, the utmost care in every tiny gesture.

Kara was a good kisser. Lena let it deepen, feeling the heat flush in her chest and elsewhere, as Kara swept her cape around the both of them in a grand, silly, absurdly romantic gesture that made Lena’s knees go all wobbly and her belly flare with warmth.

“I could give you another chance,” Lena whispered into Kara’s lips.

“I’d like that.”

“Want to fly me home?”

“You are home,” said Kara, sounding a little confused.

Lena looked around the apartment, then rested her head on Kara’s chest. “No, I’m not.”

“Oh,” said Lena.

“Take me back to your loft. We can kiss and do the other things and then you can go get me breakfast.”

Kara slid her arm under Lena’s legs and back and picked her up, tucking Lena gently against her chest, stepped up onto the balcony railing and then off, into space. Lena’s breath caught and she tensed as she always did. She really didn’t like heights.

“I won’t drop you.”

Flying back through Kara’s window was a little awkward with the two of them, but they managed. Inside, Kara deposited her on the couch and the fussing began.

First, she made Lena put on a hoodie at the first sign of a shiver. It was old and threadbare and smelled like Kara, and when she wasn’t looking Lena buried her face in the sleeve and breathed it in.

Kara placed an order at a local restaurant and rather than wait for delivery, zipped out and got it herself.

“Do the people at the potsticker place not freak out when Supergirl pops in?”

“Actually, they give me a discount.”

She put the food in front of Lena and disappeared briefly, emerging in a tank top and running shorts, and Lena almost dropped the potsticker she was about to bite into.

Kara sat down beside her, and Lena stared at her. She wasn’t wearing her glasses and her hair was in a loose ponytail, leaving her in a kind of halfway state between Kara and Supergirl. Despite the display of her blocky shoulders and the ribbed fabric tight on her bunching abs, she looked so warm and soft.

Kara speared the potsticker and popped it into her own mouth.

“Hey!” Lena chirped.

“You were just staring at it.”

“Kara!”

“Fine, here.”

Kara gently took another dumpling in her chopsticks and offered it. Lena looked at her askance, then leaned forward and took it in her mouth, eyes never leaving Kara.

Slowly, they shifted together until they were side by side on the sofa, Lena sort of falling onto Kara as she sank into the cushions. They were less eating and more feeding each other, which turned into Lena feeding Kara as they watched whatever came on the TV.

Kara slowly worked an arm around Lena’s waist and Lena turned, throwing her legs across Kara’s thighs.

“I’m tired,” said Lena.

“You’ve had a long day.”

“Want to go to bed?” Lena said. She tried to put her best husk into her voice but it cracked a little and betrayed her.

Kara said nothing. She smiled and lifted Lena up with ease and carried her to the bed.

Lena shimmied out of her leggings, letting them fall around her ankles, all while covered by the oversized hoodie, and her heart was pounding as Kara lifted the covers with an exaggerated gesture and beckoned her into the bed. Lena climbed aboard.

Kara crawled in after her and embraced her like she was trying to pull Lena inside her body.

“You must be tired,” Kara murmured. “It’s okay if you just want to sleep.”

“I am,” Lena whispered back.

Kara started to pull back, but Lena held on. “Can you hold me for a while.”

“Nothing is gonna get you.”

Lena closed her eyes and curled up against her, sighing.

Two weeks later, she put the penthouse on the market.

[swiftiethatlovesf1]

Toto x reader!wife please… they welcome a new edition to the Wolff pack 👶🏻 & Toto regrets not being present for Jack as much during his newborn stage, this time round he is, fitting into baby’s schedule rather than his. Fluff with reader & Jack taking on big brother duties 🥹

The wait was finally over. The past nine months had been a whirlwind of emotions, with your hormones playing havoc and everyone making adjustments for the new family member. It all began when your favorite snack suddenly became repulsive, followed by the inevitable bouts of morning sickness. Though you and Toto hadn't been actively trying, you also weren't avoiding it, and soon enough, a positive pregnancy test confirmed the big news.

After the announcement, your family dynamic shifted. Toto and Jack became protective and endearingly overbearing, rarely letting you out of their sight and insisting on handling every little task for you. During Jack's pregnancy, Toto's frequent travels for the team kept him away, but this time he vowed to be present. He took time off to be with you and Jack, diving headfirst into preparations. His first project was transforming a room into the new nursery.

"Alright, team," Toto announced, rolling up his sleeves as he surveyed the empty room. "Let's turn this place into the perfect nursery."

"Dad, can I help with the painting?" Jack asked eagerly, already clutching a paintbrush with excitement.

"Of course, buddy," Toto replied, smiling warmly. "But remember, we're using paint, and we need to be careful."

You stood in the doorway, amusement dancing in your eyes as you leaned against the frame. "You two really don't need to do everything. I can help too, you know."

Toto turned to you, shaking his head firmly but gently. "Absolutely not. You're on strict relaxation duty. Doctor's orders."

Jack nodded in agreement, mimicking his father's serious expression. "Yeah, Mom, you need to rest. We got this."

You chuckled, walking over to them. "Okay, okay. But I can at least supervise, right?"

Toto guided you to a chair, his touch tender. "You can supervise from here. Feet up."

Jack began stirring the paint with great concentration. "What color are we starting with, Dad?"

"The light green," Toto replied. "It's calming and perfect for the baby."

As they painted, you felt a wave of gratitude wash over you. "You know, I appreciate all this effort, but you both don't have to be so overprotective."

Toto glanced at you, his eyes softening with love. "I missed so much last time. This time, I'm not going to miss a single moment."

Jack nodded vigorously. "Yeah, and I'm going to be the best big brother ever. I want everything to be perfect."

You smiled, your heart swelling with love. "Well, with the two of you taking care of everything, I have no doubt it will be."

Then came the gender reveal. You decided on a private celebration with close friends and family. The Mercedes team surprised you with a personalized car for the reveal. As Jack unveiled the car, the sight of a pink car triggered joyous screams and happy tears.

Jack jumped up and down, clapping his hands. "It's a girl! It's a girl!"

Toto wrapped his arms around you, his eyes glistening with tears of happiness. "We're having a daughter," he whispered, his voice thick with emotion.

You looked up at him, your own tears of joy spilling over. "I can't believe it, Toto. We're having a little girl."

Jack ran over and hugged both of you tightly. "I'm going to have a baby sister! This is the best day ever!"

Your friends and family cheered, the sound of cameras clicking as they captured the joyous moment. The pink car gleamed in the sunlight, symbolizing the pure happiness that filled the air.

Since Jack was already four, you and Toto decided to let him choose her name. With a beaming smile, he chose Lena.

On a sunny day in August, Lena was born. The procedure went smoothly, and soon enough, you had your precious baby in your arms. Jack looked up at you both, his eyes wide with excitement. "Can I help take care of her? I'll be the best big brother ever!"

You laughed softly, ruffling his hair. "Of course, Jack. She's going to be so lucky to have you."

Toto nodded, smiling down at Jack. "You're already the best big brother, buddy. She's going to adore you."

And from that moment, your little family of three grew to four, filling your hearts with boundless joy and love.

[sorryitsmyfirstdayonearth]

Payback

(Dean Winchester x female reader)

Summary When Sam goes into the Cage, Dean leaves you behind for a shot at a normal life. But you can’t wait to see him again. CWs Cheating. Rough revenge sex. Sorry, Lisa. 18+. 2k words.

Dean Winchester masterlist ⏐ SPN masterlist

You walk into the nearly empty bar, dressed exactly the way you need to be to get what you want, and when you see Dean sit in the booth at the back, a pleasant shiver runs through you. You catch his eye and slowly walk towards him.

He looks different, just enough to be noticeable. Maybe a little softer around the edges, but more than that, cleaned up. It’s not flannel and an old leather jacket anymore, but a nice shirt that is actually, honest to God, tucked into his pants. Good haircut, clean shave.

All the things he needs to make him look like he’s just a good, decent average Joe.

“Hey stranger,” you say with a smile when you reach the table. Dean grins up at you, and you wonder for a second if he’ll get up, hug you. The thought makes your skin prickle, so you sit down quickly opposite him. He has a beer in front of him and waves to the waitress for another.

“So what brings you to my neck of the woods?” he says, leaning back. You shrug like it’s whatever, before you answer.

“Looks like a Wendigo,” you say, just before the waitress puts your beer in front of you and you nod at her. Dean narrows his eyes.

“Wendigo?” he asks. “Down here?” You take a sip, lick your lips.

“I thought the same thing,” you reply, adjusting yourself in your seat, not missing the quick look Dean shoots at your breasts. “Maybe it likes the climate.” Dean huffs.

“So what do you need my help for?” he asks, watching you intently. You shake your head.

“No help,” you reply. “Not with the case, anyway. But I don’t have a good source for Anasazi symbols, and I thought you might still have some documentation lying around.” You take another sip, then tilt your head. “You and Sam hunted one a few years ago, right?”

You don’t miss the slight tensing of Dean’s jaw, the subtle twitch in his hand. Mentioning his brother is a dangerous line to cross.

“Yeah, I might have some stuff,” he says, then takes a long sip, stares at the table. You nod, still watching him.

“So how are you doing?” you finally say. Dean looks up at you, runs his hand over his mouth, looking almost like himself again for a second.

“Good,” he says, after just a second of thinking about it. A second that holds a world of meaning.

“You enjoying your little suburban dream life?” you say, grinning at him over the rim of your bottle to take the edge out of what you’re saying. Dean gives a one-sided grin, raises his eyebrows.

“Not too shabby,” he replies. “Sure has its advantages.”

“Right,” you say, tone suggestive. “Like waking up next to your hot, domesticated girlfriend every day?” You frown. “What was her name? Lena? Lizzy?”

“Lisa,” Dean says, voice firm, like he knows damn well that you know. You let your features soften, swallow.

“Sorry,” you say, voice quiet. “I don’t mean to be an ass about it.” Dean shakes his head a little.

“It’s fine,” he says. “I don’t expect you to be happy for me.”

“I am happy for you, Dean,” you say, leaning forward a little. “I really am, okay?” Dean looks down at the table, shame on his face.

“I wouldn’t blame you if you weren’t, considering how I left,” he mutters. You press your lips together, for a moment. Try to control your voice.

“Well, that’s all in the past,” you answer. Dean nods, still having a hard time looking at you, takes another sip.

"Yeah," he says, and nothing else.

“But do you ever miss it?” you ask after a little while. Dean looks at you, opens his mouth, then closes it again.

He knows just like you what a sick thing it would be to say yes. He misses his brother, sure, but what kind of freak would miss the dangerous, horrible, violent life of hunting when he has a warm bed and a pretty house to hide in, a family, a job, neighbors to have barbecues with. What kind of freak, indeed.

“Come on,” you say, egging him on. “Some of it was good.” Dean chuckles, but you can tell he feels a little uncomfortable.

“Like that time in New Mexico,” you continue. “The vamp nest?”

Dean slowly looks back at you. Sure, you’re talking about the case, the one where the two of you had to hack and slash your way through an entire family of vampires. But afterwards, still covered in guts and blood, you fucked so roughly that you’re not sure if you had more bruises from the hunt or the sex.

You see Dean swallow, telling you he’s thinking about the exact same thing. You press your tongue against the inside of your teeth, Dean’s eyes moving to your mouth.

He can pretend all he wants. He can wake up early and go to work and sit at a dinner table and hold hands in public until he’s blue in the face. But the fact is, he still picked the booth at the back of the bar, the one from which he can see all the exits. If you were a betting woman, you’d put money on the belief that he has a knife tugged into his boot or his waistband. That he’s keeping a record of those Anasazi symbols somewhere in his girlfriend’s house, just in case he needs them again.

This is Dean Winchester. He’ll never change. And just because he left you in the dust, abandoned you the moment he lost Sam and moved into all that soft, domestic lightness, it doesn’t mean that the man you know isn’t still in there somewhere. You can see him now, hungrily staring back at you, like a predator about to pounce.

“I have a room,” you say, not breaking eye contact. “Just down the street.”

“I can’t,” Dean says, voice raspy with how hard he has to force it out.

“Come on, Dean,” you say, already breathing hard. “For old time’s sake.”

Dean basically throws you against the door the moment you close it behind you. He kisses you so angrily and roughly that it would terrify a weaker woman. But not you.

You press your hand against his cock through the fabric of his pants so hard that he winces, grabs your wrist, twists it behind your back and slams his lips against you again. You tear at each other’s clothes like maniacs, and you bring your mouth to his neck.

“No marks,” he pants and you nearly laugh at him. What a fucking fool.

Both naked, you push Dean down on the bed, but he grabs your arms, pulls you down and your back hits the mattress so hard it knocks the air out of you. He’s on you the next second.

While you’re stroking his cock, Dean’s hand wanders over your ass, then to your asshole. He fingers it and you gasp, and he kisses you again. Dean doesn’t have any condoms on him, so maybe he really has changed, but you’re carrying.

He pushes into you in one rough stroke, making you whimper. He shushes you, immediately picks a quick rhythm. A life of hunting has made you crave the pain and damage, the hurt just a spice that makes the pleasure all the more delicious.

Dean fucks your pussy first and then flips you over, presses into your ass, as you whine and mewl. He goes slower, fingers gripping your waist so hard you think he’ll rip through you. He pants at your tightness, sounds downright desperate. You bet Lisa doesn’t let him go there.

Your orgasm hits you like a ton of bricks, and Dean keeps fucking you through it roughly, and because he knows what you like, remembers, he wraps his hand over your mouth, but he can barely contain the sounds you’re making. You suck one of his fingers into your mouth, wrapping your tongue around it.

Dean pulls out, turns you around again. He presses your legs high, presses back into your ass and then kisses you again. He turned you around so he can look at you. It stirs something deep in you, something you need to press down. What you used to have, that clear understanding of each other, a closeness that despite the fact you fucked like animals, you’ve never had with anyone else. And he left.

He left to go to some woman he spent one night with years ago. Left you like you were just some hook up and nothing more, but now he wants to look at your face while he sodomizes you. It makes you want to scream and thrash and cry. But you push it down.

Dean comes and you scratch your nails down his back, and he’s too in the moment to stop you. It’s not hard enough to leave a mark, not really, but you like to think he’ll feel you there for a while.

He drops on his back, breathing hard, eyes closed. For a moment, it’s quiet in the room, only your twin panting breaking the quiet. Then Dean rolls over to you, goes to kiss you, but you pull your head back.

He raised his hand to hold you, and when you get out of bed, he still has it raised, but he looks confused. You grab your panties, pull them on, then find your bra. You hear it when Dean’s hand drops onto the bed. He watches you for a moment, not saying anything.

“So, I’m gonna see if I can find those symbols,” he says, voice awkward. You frown and turn around just as you’re pulling your shirt over your head.

“What symbols?” you ask. Dean opens his mouth, and then he understands.

“There is no case,” he says, voice low and he swallows. You shrug.

“Wasn’t sure you’d see me otherwise,” you say, picking up your jeans and you step into them. You pull them over your ass, button them, locate your socks.

“Why?” Dean asks. You take your time to answer, step into your shoes, before looking back at Dean.

“Maybe I just missed you, lover,” you say, voice dripping with disdain and sarcasm. “Maybe I just wanted to see what your brand spanking new life is like.” You straighten, look at Dean, let your eyes run up and down his body that’s only covered by the cheap motel blanket.

“Looks like it’s really working for you,” you say with the fakest earnestness you can muster. You see Dean clench his jaw. He actually looks a little scary.

“You bitch,” he mutters and you actually laugh this time.

“I’m gonna go,” you say, as you’re putting on your jacket, reach for your duffel. “You can stay, maybe take a shower.” You can’t hide the smirk on your face.

“Probably best if you don’t smell like sweat and come and another woman’s perfume when you go home to little Lisa.” Dean’s nostrils flare. Time to get out.

You sling the duffel over your shoulder, and open the door, but not without throwing another look over your shoulder at Dean. He’s staring at the foot of the bed now, slow realization of what he’s done seeping into him.

“Bye, baby,” you say and his eyes flicker up to you just before you close the door behind you.

Dean might have left the life, might have left you, for whatever fucking PG alternative he has in that pretty little house of his. But he’s never gonna stop being him, not really. Deep down, he’ll always be down in the muck with you, no matter how clean he tries to get.

And all you wanted was to make sure he doesn’t forget that.

[cobaltperun]

The Catalyst (6) - Let it Burn

WandaNat x Female Reader

Chapter summary: A reunion opens up old wounds and a question of “What now?” plagues your mind. And the answer? It lies in the past, in the days long gone, buried under the betrayal of the woman you loved.

Spotify Playlist

Masterlist / First Part / Previous Part / Next Part

Word Count: 7.5k

-Is your love just a drop of rain? Will we all just burn like fire?-

You could feel the slight heat coming from the inside of your house before you even reached the front porch. It wasn’t alarming, it was simply the stove being turned on, but it did alert you of an unannounced visitor. All things considered there really was only one person brave enough to waltz into a mutant’s house and turn the stove on. It wasn’t just you being the mutant though, it was the forest surrounding your house; it was dark, uninviting, you liked it, but most people would feel like it was warning them to stay away. A perfect place for a mutant to hide from regular people, as far as you were concerned. The moment you stepped into your home you could smell the subtle scent of instant noodles being cooked, confirming the identity of your guest. “Lena, that better not be the only thing you’re eating!” you exclaimed as you left your glaive hanging on the wall and dropped your bag on the floor with a light thud, it was mostly clothes, after all. You stretched a bit, fighting back a yawn. You should have accepted Tony’s offer to drop you off.

“Of course not, I had some coffee for breakfast,” you heard and noticed her thick Russian accent remained, which honestly made you happy. In her own words, she was done being a spy, so, there was no need to change her accent. She had no need to blend in, so she wouldn’t.

“Yay, that’s exactly what I want to hear,” you walked into the kitchen, noticing she changed quite a bit from the last time you saw her. Short hair, though not as short as Natasha’s, fully casual clothes without one of her vests that had way too many pockets in your opinion, so, she wasn’t constantly on edge like she used to be. But most importantly she looked a lot more tired, exhausted even, than the last time you saw her. You approached her and pulled her into a firm hug before she could put on a façade and reject it. “I’m here,” and it wasn’t because she was Natasha’s sister, hell, for a while it was in spite of Natasha being her sister.

She hugged you back for a few seconds and then pulled away. “Yeah, that’s enough,” she raised her hands as she looked out the window with a tiny pout, and you grinned as the two of you sat down at your kitchen table, complete with Yelena’s instant noodles. She dug in like she hadn’t eaten in a long while, which frankly wouldn’t surprise you. “An Avenger, huh?” she asked between bites and you leaned forward, burying your face in your hands.

“I guess so,” you muttered. You had that same nightmare last night, that endless space, that helplessness, it all still haunted you. It would continue to haunt you; perhaps even for the rest of your life.

For a while the only sound that could be heard in the room was Yelena eating, until that was done as well and she still didn’t say a word. And you weren’t sure what to say either. What could you say?

Maybe: Hey, I saw Natasha!

As if you needed to say that. She saw the news, she probably got her hands on some information that weren’t made public as well.

“You couldn’t stay out of it, after all,” there was something cynical in her tone, accusing you, and you couldn’t blame her. After all you said and did, you jumped right back into that world of violence as if there really wasn’t any other option. And in your mind there really wasn’t another option for you. Staying out of it would only risk more casualties, and you weren’t willing to just sit by and let people die. With or without your mutant powers the one thing that always remained true about you was that you didn’t have it in you to sit by and watch as people died.

“Back then I didn’t think something like this could happen,” an alien invasion, gods, monsters, technologies that were beyond your understanding, none of that plagued your mind three years ago. Sure, there were mutants, but this was something entirely different.

“What now, Y/N?” Yelena asked and you had no clear answer for her.

“Get ready for something worse,” you figured, knowing that was the only answer you could give her right now.

After all, that was the only answer you had at all.

Oh, things were so much simpler eleven years ago.

~X~ 11 years ago, Madagascar, ~X~

Spies had to adapt, to constantly change. They weren’t allowed to get attached, to people, things, or their own personality traits, at least that’s how it once was. Director Fury was a bit more lenient, believing attachment would make them fight harder; Coulson agreed with that sentiment. And while he got attached, there still weren’t that many things he actively disliked.

Yet, as brief as that list was, rain, particularly in humid locations. He had fresh air all around him, yet it felt suffocating to him.

The driver tried to make some small talk, but Coulson was so wrapped up in the report he got from Fury that all of his responses were brief and not exactly aimed at keeping the conversation going. It didn’t matter much, he wasn’t here to make friends with the locals, no, he was here for something much more important.

Like the report informed him Coulson was taken to an amusement park, which wasn’t exactly the first place he’d go to to look for a mutant, even if said mutant was a teenager. But Fury’s eyes and ears were absolutely certain that the mutant girl would be here, so, he followed the trail of breadcrumbs meant to lead him to you.

He found the man matching the description of your legal guardian, Edward, sun-kissed skin, short dirty blond hair peeked from under an old straw hat, fit, but not particularly muscular man in his late forties, dressed just well enough to blend into the crowd. A traveling merchant slash performer slash whatever the circumstances demanded or allowed. And sure enough, there you were, sitting on a chair next to him and explaining something in a rather animated way. Coulson took a moment to observe you, noticing that you didn’t have any physical mutations that would give away what you were. No, you were a regular fifteen-year-old, perhaps a bit taller than average girls your age, but other than that you were just a kid.

The man looked amused by whatever you were telling him, replying every now and then with just enough input to keep you talking. Strangely, he wasn’t bothered by you being a mutant, at least at a first glance. Usually when they got involved concerning a mutant they saw humans, even parents or siblings, rejecting the mutants. Still, the best course of action was to interfere and preferably recruit you before X-Men did.

So, Coulson approached, interrupting your conversation with the man and his suit immediately alerted the two of you. Indeed, a suit in an amusement park, especially without a child of his own, really did make him stick out like a sore thumb. At least the weather made the place less crowded at the moment.

“Authorities?” Edward asked as he stood up, subtly getting between Coulson and you.

“Not quite, but we can go with that,” Coulson offered his hand. “I’m Phil Coulson,” this wasn’t a spy mission, establishing trust was necessary.

“Edward L/N,” the man cautiously accepted the handshake. “Now, would you mind getting to the point?” he had no patience for small talk with strangers.

Coulson nodded, pulling out a notebook to make it seem like he needed to read the report. “I’m here to follow up on the report local police made; about the incident you and your daughter were involved in,” Edward immediately narrowed his eyes and this time you stood up as well, alarmed.

“It was self-defense,” Edward said, but then began coughing and you got him to sit down. You were yet to say a word, and you looked so talkative before.

“Y/N is still a mutant, I am-“

“You are about to leave. Mutant or not, she is neither a weapon or a monster. Leave and tell the others like you not to come back, you’re not taking her,” he said so with such determination in his eyes that Coulson believed him. They would get to you over his dead body, but what worried him more were the others Edward mentioned. As far as he was aware no one else tried to contact you.

“I assure you the people I work for didn’t try to contact you of Y/N, which is all the more reason why you should both come with me,” if taking only you wasn’t an option, maybe offering a comfortable life would sweeten the deal

You definitely seemed to consider it, and Coulson guessed it was due to Edward’s health. “I’ll be fine, kid,” he sensed your unease, immediately reassuring you and though you didn’t fully believe him you did relax a bit. “I quite like my freedom, and even if mine was for sale, her freedom isn’t,” and there it was, the definitive rejection.

“I have one more question,” Coulson’s tone changed, became firmer, more authoritative, yet the man remained fairly unphased. “Did you know she was a mutant before the incident?” he was genuinely curious, though he was fairly sure Edward was aware of it.

“Of course I knew, I pulled her out of fire when she was seven,” Edward grinned a bit. “Never mattered to me, all I saw was a child that needed help,” so, he adopted you, just like the records showed.

“We’ll stay in touch,” Coulson told the two, understanding nothing would come from this and figuring it was time for him to leave, but all Edward did was flip him off. Funnily enough, you’d do the same thing years later.

~X~ 10 years ago ~X~

A year later you were once again left all on your own. Edward’s sickness got worse, and he died in his sleep in a hospital in Japan. He didn’t have any relatives that would take you in, so you were left with two choices, try to survive on your own, knowing there was a chance someone would find out you were a mutant, or you could contact Coulson and join the organization he worked for.

Coulson was kind enough to handle transporting Edward’s remains back to the States and organize the funeral and then you were given training to become an agent of the Strategic Homeland Intervention, Enforcement and Logistics Division. It started out good, you were good with various equipment, easily picking up the programming and engineering skills, you were alright with guns, nothing to write home about, but it was acceptable, but your hand to hand combat?

Maria Hill tossed you over her shoulder and pinned you to the ground once more as you groaned, knowing you would have to nurse several nasty bruises. Maria sighed and got up, sitting down next to you to catch her breath. She was one of the brightest talents of the current batch of recruits, and she was annoyed by you. “I don’t get it. Why are you even here if you’re going to hold back?” Maria asked you for what felt like the hundredth time even though she probably only asked you three or four times.

You huffed and turned onto your back. “Oh, I’d just love to see you cosplaying as a burnt toast,” you remarked sarcastically. Whenever you got a bit too into a fight you ended up lighting something on fire, and you didn’t want to do that to your fellow recruits.

Now it was Maria’s turn to huff, annoyed by your answer, or simply by your voice. Whatever it was you figured you couldn’t exactly fix it, but Maria wasn’t the only one who noticed you were holding back. So did Coulson, and that led you to Fury and the mutant depowering serum, a temporary kind, meant to be taken once a month. Fearing you’d hurt your teammates on missions, or even worse that you’d hurt someone completely innocent, you accepted the serum.

You never once argued against it. Edward may have had no issues with you being a mutant, but you had them. You feared your powers. You hated being like Magneto, or like X-Men who failed to once and for all stop the Master of Magnetism. You wanted to be sure you wouldn’t hurt someone by accident, but you also wanted to be free from the mutant powers you had.

~X~ Six years ago ~X~

There was a nervous buzz at the main base, a kind you weren’t used to. You finished sparring with Maria and were fresh out of the shower and heading with the woman to get a new mission. “You don’t seem phased by all of this,” Maria, though she was almost as nonchalant about this as you were, commented.

You shrugged, sure, it was a big deal, but you didn’t really care much. “Leave it to Barton to bring in the biggest news of the year,” you grinned a bit. You worked with Clint a few times, and if he made this decision then you’d have his back if needed. Even if most agents weren’t quite on board at the moment.

“The Black Widow, the only super soldier currently active, one of the deadliest assassins in history, switching sides after apparently destroying the Red Room,” Maria whistled, and sure enough, those were big news. Or a deadly trap, as many agents believed. “Barton is gambling with a lot here,” and it wasn’t just his life.

You opened the doors and let Maria pass first, the room was hauntingly empty aside from the two agents that had to be there. From the looks of it everyone wanted to catch a glimpse of the Black Widow arriving. “Well, you guys accepted a mutant into your ranks,” you pointed out and Maria rolled her eyes, taking a small stack of papers from one of the agents and handing you half of it.

You skimmed through the data, noticing it was a simple escort mission, nothing too complicated, but it was best to stay on guard in those situations.

“And our mutant is depowered,” she patted you on the arm.

You rolled your eyes, even as a smile spread across your face. “Let’s just get this mission over with,”

~X~

“Simple mission, my ass,” you complained, taking cover behind a wall in an almost empty parking lot and keeping the frightened man you and Maria were escorting down. There was a sound you didn’t want to acknowledge a few feet away from you and you quickly turned the corner and fired, shooting one of the attackers and narrowly dodging bullets coming your way. “A bit of back-up here?” you were a tiny bit annoyed that Maria still didn’t reach your location.

“Two minutes, I had to get the data,” you felt your blood pressure rising. Usual Fury, always handing out different tasks to people.

“This was supposed to be just an escort mission!” you exclaimed, hearing someone stepping on broken glass on the other side of the wall and quickly moving around it to shoot them. The gun felt heavy in your hands as some blood splattered onto it. You were letting them get too close.

“You know how Director works,” Maria reminded you, and you knew, you absolutely knew. You still hated it.

All of a sudden, and before you could reply to Maria, three shots echoed through the parking lot and you heard five bodies hitting the ground. For a bit everything remained silent until you heard Clint’s voice through the comms. “All clear, it’s safe now,” you frowned, appreciating the back-up, but first of all, since when did Clint use guns, and second of all why was he here in the first place. You pulled the man up to his feet, ignoring the wet stain on the front of his pants and dragged him along while keeping an eye out for any potential threats. And then you saw her.

She was dressed in usual agent uniform, but you’ve never seen her before. Now, sure, you didn’t know every single agent, but even from a distance she was so striking you knew you would remember even seeing her in passing. The woman was ethereally beautiful, sharp, piercing green eyes, long red hair, beautiful face, and deadly powerful, and you realized you were looking at the Black Widow, Natalia Romanova. And she just killed five people with three bullets.

“Thanks, I owe you,” you approached her with a friendly smile, but she didn’t seem amused, she seemed deep in thought.

You noticed she was looking at the corpses as she sighed, as if accepting some heavy weight on her back. “Just doing my job,” she told you and looked you in the eyes. “Natasha Romanoff,” you did hear she’d slightly change her name.

“Y/N L/N,” you didn’t bother offering your hand to her, she looked like she wasn’t eager to touch anyone.

~X~ Four years ago ~X~

It’s been two years since Natasha joined the Strategic Homeland Intervention, Enforcement and Logistics Division, which really should work on its’ name. The only thing Natasha might have missed about her past was the short organization name. She was working on her report, meticulously explaining each step of her mission. It was four in the morning, she hasn’t slept, couldn’t sleep, really, and the steaming mug of black coffee, her second one, because just one cup wouldn’t do it, was the only thing keeping her company.

That is until she heard familiar footsteps and smiled instinctively and even somewhat against her will. She was the Black Widow, she didn’t get attached, yet she did just that, not only with Clint, but also…

She knew it was coming and surprisingly didn’t have to force her body not to react as warm arms wrapped around her from behind, just beneath her shoulders and she felt a chin resting on her left shoulder.

“Hey, can’t sleep?” and there you were, the second person she got attached to. And it terrified her because your touch didn’t just feel so natural her body didn’t react defensively, it relaxed her, eased her mind. You were always so warm, a part of your mutation that the depowering serum couldn’t remove, and she found herself sinking into that warmth, letting it melt her heart encased in ice bit by bit.

“The bed felt cold,” so, she flirted, half-serious, half-joking just to keep her heart from racing. Her heart never raced, not when she was in danger, not when she was threatened, or when she had to tell a lie. She could fool anyone and not blink, but with you her heart raced with need for more than just this closeness.

You hummed, as if seriously considering her joke, as if she hasn’t said something similar to it so many times before, dropping innuendos or flirting, or just teasing you. And you took it all in stride. “Let me buy you dinner first, Nat,” your eyes met and somehow she found herself being lost in your eyes, in that fire hidden behind them. Nat. Yet another sentiment she never thought she’d indulge in. She never thought she’d be affected by something as simple as a nickname.  “Come on, let’s get some of that nervous energy out of your system,” you reached for her coffee, drank about third of it and gagged at the lack of sugar and Natasha, amused by your antics, smiled and shook her head. “Hush you, that’s awful,” you complained, staring at her coffee like it owed you a fortune.

Natasha got up, brushing past you with her report in her hands and, with a slight sway to her hips, led you to the training area. You ran after her, catching up and walking side by side with a bit of a sleepy, but still eager, grin on your face. You were ridiculous, and she absolutely liked that about you.

The moment you were in the training area you took a few steps away from her, giving her those few seconds to get ready for a fight. You didn’t need to, you’ve seen her reacting in milliseconds, but you still did it, still saw her as more than just a super soldier serum enhanced assassin. So, Natasha smiled and went after you, throwing the first punch followed by a spin kick when you predictably moved to your left. You crossed your arms, blocking her foot and quickly catching it with a smile on your face. Natasha winked at you, jumping into air and kicking with her free leg, making you release her leg and block the kick. She spun in midair, dropping an axe kick aimed at your shoulder, fully trusting you to be able to handle it.

And you did, not by blocking, but by lunging forward and wrapping your arm around her waist. You went to slam her against the floor, but she already had her arms around you, using your body to maneuver onto your back and easily regain control. You grunted, managing to slip one arm through her hold, but you were still soft. You should have tried to slam her against the wall, instead you were trying to free yourself the harder way.

She kept her hold on your neck with one arm and raised her elbow, going for your head, and you caught it, returning the favor with an elbow to her own side. She lost her grip on you for a moment, which was enough for you to throw her off you. She gracefully landed back on the floor and evaded when you tried to tackle her again. You were fun to fight, skilled enough to challenge her, strong enough so that she didn’t have to hold back. You blocked her punch with your forearm, pulled her into a clinch and tried to knee her in the face, but she not only pushed your knee back down using her weight, but she used what little space there was between you to launch an uppercut that you narrowly dodged and the two of you separated again.

It was a constant between you. She was too nimble for you to keep holding her long enough to actually get an upper hand, and you were too quick for that to give her an upper hand. And you just didn’t stop. She had enhanced stamina, but you were giving her a run for her money, and from what she read the depowering serum affected your stamina as well.

You both kept the sparring up for an hour, neither of you giving up or letting the other take any significant lead. If you went for the kick, Natasha was quick to jump over it and try to take you down. If she went for a direct hit you blocked and hit back. If she danced circles around you, you stood your ground, using quick reflexes and perception to handle her speed. And it went on like that until you heard the doors opening and Clint walking in.

“Interesting, uh… foreplay?” he had no filter and that earned him two glares as the two of you ended your sparring prematurely.

~X~ Three years ago ~X~

For once your were on a high-risk mission in Russia, hence Nat had antidote to depowering serum on her at all times. The instructions were clear, she couldn’t use it without permission from Fury, and she wouldn’t get it unless hostages were rescued and the compromised data was secured. Even after all these years the belief that your powers were too volatile to be safely used on a mission remained, even if you were occasionally given the chance to train with them.

And you believed it too. You’ve grown so used to being depowered that it only felt natural to not consider using your powers until the very last moment. Nat, as often as she was paired with you for missions, had never seen you use your powers before.

You climbed onto a rooftop overlooking the base held by heavily armed military-esque organization. The numerous guns strapped to your body felt heavy, two machine guns, two regular pistols, throwing knives, smoke bombs, several grenades, shotgun and plenty of ammo as well. Despite that there were still too many guards to walk in, even if you had Nat on your side, no, you’d need a distraction first. You watched as Nat took the two snipers out with ease, they never even saw it coming as she knocked them out, sedating them and tying them so they still looked like they were standing guard.

��All clear,” she whispered through the comms.

“Copy that,” you heard the zipline being attached to the wall just beneath you and used it to reach Nat. From here you had a better look at the base. There was no way to tell what they were working on, but the place was heavily guarded. “There’s your target,” you nodded toward the doors on the far left, supposed to lead to the cells, meaning you’d go and make a mess on the far-right side.

“Be careful,” Nat told you and you saw her nearly reaching out to touch you, nearly breaking that professional barrier she always put on during missions. On your free time she was comfortable, touching you, letting you hold her, sometimes even initiating contact, but that was never the case on the missions.

The fact that she reached out, even if she changed her mind, was enough for you. “You too,” you winked at her. “I’ll see you soon,” she smiled at you, that same adorable smile that you loved.

“Remember, dinner when we get back home,” she reminded you as you went to the trapdoors and you gave her a thumbs up.

“Don’t need a reminder,” it’s been on your mind for a long time now, and it was about to become a reality, but you appreciated a bit of extra motivation to stay safe and careful.

You opened the trapdoors and went inside, for once being stealthy, at least until you reached the ither side of the building. You put the night vision goggles on and carefully moved through the halls, silently knocking out anyone on your path. Just like the snipers up above you these guys would also take a very long nap.

You pulled up your collar, sure, you weren’t cold, but your breath was still visible when you exhaled. Nat wasn’t bothered by it in the slightest, she even enjoyed the cold, as cliché as that was. Although, she did mention cold gave her an excuse to stay closer to you since you were always warm. Granted, she was tired, had a nightmare, and was sleepy, so maybe that had something to do with her confession.

You slowly but surely reached the other side of the base and glanced toward the tower where you and Nat were. You couldn’t see her, but you could feel her eyes on you. “I’m ready,” you told her, seeing the guards you were about to take out in a rather loud manner. You would be lying if you said you weren’t a bit nervous, there were still lots of them, and some of them were heavily armed. But then again, so were you.

“Remember, be careful,” Nat reminded you and the chaos started. You grabbed your machine gun and opened fire, killing several of the thugs and alerting the rest of the intruder in this part of the base. Soon enough the reflector lights were on you and the place was turned into a bullet storm from hell. You dashed for cover, throwing one of the smoke bombs to cover your tracks and vaulting over crates, firing at anyone that moved.

You were constantly on move, not letting them catch up to you or properly aim at you. Someone like Nat or Clint would have been able to shoot you, but there weren’t that many people on their level. You were surrounded by the sound of bullets flying, people shouting in Russian, which you now somewhat understood, but not well enough to pick up words in this chaos.

You could feel heat on the tips of your fingers as you kept firing, shooting people or explosives they were near, and before you knew it the right side of the base was engulfed in chaos, flames, explosions and even more bullets. Several bullets grazed you, leaving small wounds that wouldn’t even need stitching. They were annoying but none of them mattered. If you got seriously wounded you’d simply get the antidote and your mutant powers would burn the wounds closed, you just needed to finish the mission first.

A loud explosion close to you caught your attention and you saw a heavily armed soldier carrying a glaive in his arms approaching you. It wasn’t a regular glaive though, it was absorbing the heat from the flamethrower attached to it and each time the soldier swung it it sent an explosion in the path of the swing.

“Shit!” you narrowly jumped out of the way of the explosions and fired, only for the bullets to bounce off the helmet the soldier was wearing. You weren’t immune to fire when you were depowered, so you absolutely needed to avoid the explosions.

~X~

Natasha cursed under her breath. The hostages have been killed at least three days ago, just before the mission got authorized, but she could still get the data. She plugged her USB stick in and began copying all the data from the computers. You were definitely distracting everyone in the base, she could hear the distant sound of gunfire, but for now it didn’t seem like she had anything to worry about. You knew what you were doing. You’d be fine. You had to be fine. But then the explosions started and Natasha began to worry.

She listened as the explosions got more and more frequent and immediately contacted Fury. “Director, I need permission to give agent L/N the antidote,” she quickly told him as she retrieved all the data from the computers.

“Denied. There’s equipment in that base that we need,” and she was looking at it. Advanced weapons and equipment designed to be used on mutants, similar to what Red Room was trying to create before she destroyed it. And Fury wanted that.

Natasha caught the reflection of her worried face on the now black screen. “But, Sir, there’s a chance the base will be destroyed either way,” Natasha tried to argue, surely you were more important to Fury than this equipment. Right? She clenched her fists so tightly she nearly made her palms bleed. She was being naïve, she, better than most people, should know the answer to that question. Yet, she hoped. Against her better judgment she hoped.

“Do not disobey my direct orders, agent Romanoff. We need everything to remain intact, put trackers on the equipment and flee,” they wouldn’t take fighting over to this side, they wouldn’t risk destroying it.

Natasha slammed her fist onto the table, shaking it with the force of her punch. “Agent Romanoff, you want to wipe your ledger clean. Don’t waste this opportunity,” but the cost was letting you fight your way out of this or die, drenching her ledger with your blood. “I’m sending Barton, Coulson and Hill to rescue L/N,” less than an hour later she’d learn that was a lie, but at that moment it made her decision easier and she put her faith in the organization she worked for, in the man she worked for. It didn’t matter, an hour later it was already too late.

~X~

You cursed your lack of close-range weapons as the soldier caught up to you and tried to cut you, and that on its own wouldn’t have been that big of an issue, but each swing caused explosions, and he was protected by glaive absorbing any explosion coming his way. You weren’t that lucky, and your protective gear was barely holding up, you were injured, blood trickled down your left arm and you were sure you had a concussion.

You ducked under the glaive, desperate, and cut the flamethrower part of it with your knife, detaching it from the glaive and just barely dodging the last explosion it could make, but you lost your footing and couldn’t avoid it as the soldier threw the glaive at you. The blade, still hot from explosions, pierced through your side like it was cutting though butter and you fell. Disoriented by the immense pain and looking at the handle of the weapon.

This wasn’t happening.

But before you could comprehend what just happened to you there was another explosion, caused by all the damage you and the soldier did, caused by all the damaged equipment, spilled fuel and the destruction. The explosion rocked the building and you crashed through several floors, falling into the underground levels, with the glaive still piercing through your right side. Ironically, the glaive saved you, as it absorbed the explosion that reached you. You landed harshly on your side, making your wound even worse. The pain blinded you temporarily as you grabbed onto the handle, grasping onto anything within reach as blood spilled from your body and pooled underneath you.

“Y/N, what happened?” you heard Nat’s voice, filled with panic and you could imagine the look on her face.

You couldn’t answer her, the pain was too much as you finally regained your sight and just stared at the glaive in disbelief. If you pulled it out you’d definitely bleed out, but from the looks of it you’d die either way.

“Y/N!” her shout snapped you out of your thoughts and you remembered Nat had the syringe with the antidote to depowering serum. If she could reach you, and she probably could do it easily since most of the soldiers were killed either by you or the explosion, you’d be able to burn the wound closed.

“Nat, I need- I’ll bleed out-“

Nat remained silent for what felt like eternity, but when she spoke you wished she didn’t say a single word. “I don’t have the permission to use it,” she said it as if what you had meant nothing to her, as if she was fine with letting you die here, bleeding out in these ruins impaled on a glaive. At least she sounded like she was sorry, like saying those words and leaving you to die broke her heart.

There was no use in arguing, and you had no energy left to argue even if there was a way to convince Nat to come back for you. You tried to get up, to fight for your life, but you just slumped back onto the floor, unable to do anything but close your eyes and wait to die.

The next time you opened your eyes you were in shackles, captured by the Red Room.

~X~

She could see a lot of herself in you. Not in your helplessness, or inability to escape from the Red Room, no, those hardly mattered to Yelena. It was your firm belief that Natalia, or Natasha as you called her, would come for you.

Madame B was cruel indeed, making Yelena tend to your wounds just enough to keep you alive, making both of you see the proof of Natalia’s callousness, of her tendency to leave people behind. You, bloodied, injured, damn near on the brink of death, were faced with someone who once hoped Natalia would come back and save her. And her, she was faced with someone carrying that same hope, heading toward that same disappointing realization that Natalia wasn’t coming.

“Natalia isn’t coming,” she didn’t even need to fake it, she truly believed that. “She didn’t come for me either,” the anger and hurt in her voice was real.

You grunted when she tightened the bandage around your waist a bit harsher than necessary. “Try all you want, I’m not letting you or anyone else turn me against Nat,” you weren’t that easy to break, she’d give you that. You were so disgustingly loyal to Natalia, as if she deserved that kind of love. You looked into her eyes, still so determined and defiant. She never got to be like that; any defiance was quickly beaten out of her. “I’ll make all of your higher ups pay for what they did to her,” you promised, sure that would happen, defiant to the bitter end.

She imagined a similar defiance was what separated Natalia from other Widows, made her THE Black Widow, the only one worth the super soldier serum, because none other could take it.

“You chose the wrong person to put your faith in,” so maybe she could chip at that instead, at your choice instead of the person. “We’re in no rush, you only just got here,” three days were nothing, you’d understand sooner rather than later that no one was coming for you. Especially not your precious Natalia.

~X~

You bit your tongue so you wouldn’t scream, but the electric current coursing through your body made it nearly impossible. The cruel irony wasn’t lost on you. If you weren’t depowered this would have had no effect on you, but here you were, tortured by one of your own powers.

The woman on the other side of the glass wall turned the machine off and you gasped for air. It didn’t matter the air was stale, breathing it in without electricity shocking you felt like you were breathing in the fresh air. The sound of dripping made you look to the side where a small puddle of blood was forming. Your thrashing reopened the wound, but the pain was dulled by the shocks, still, it made you feel light-headed.

“You should feel lucky, mutant, you can choose to make this all stop,” Madame B wasn’t even taunting you, she genuinely believed giving you that choice was an act of kindness. As if the choice between joining the Red Room and being tortured was a choice anyone would enjoy having.

“Do your worst,” you glared, you couldn’t do anything else.

“The traitor isn’t coming,” her words echoed as she turned the electricity back on and ten days into this torture and two weeks since you were captured those words sounded a lot more true than you dared to admit. “You were left to die by the traitor. The Red Room has given you a new life.”

You forced yourself to smirk at her as your eyes, wild and unbreakable focused solely on her. “I don’t want it,” you put tremendous effort into it and gave her a middle finger as she dialed up the electricity and finally made you scream, but you found some satisfaction in seeing the frustration on her face.

~X~

Another week later they have given up on torturing you, instead they just threw you into a cell, shackled to the wall and bit by bit emptying the cell with every bare minimum meal they brought you. And the worst thing about it?

The solitude was working. With nothing to occupy your mind, with no pain to focus on, you were left with your own thoughts and the realization that you were betrayed and abandoned, and that no one, not Fury, not Coulson, not Hill or Clint, and especially not Natasha, was coming to save you.

There was no denying it anymore. You were on your own. You’ve given them seven years of your life, and you were thrown away like it all meant nothing.

Maybe it truly meant nothing.

~X~

Each second felt like a week, drawn out, passing by so slowly you wondered if you’d go insane. That annoying dripping sound from the cell next to your own persisted, staying by your side through it all. Rhythmic dripping felt like its very own form of torture, just reminding you of how alone you were, constantly reminding you of the deafening silence that surrounded it. The darkness around you seemed almost endless, and the dim light of the candle did nothing to chase it away, it only forced you to focus on the blood-stained glaive just out of your reach. A dripping sound to break the torturous silence and a flickering flame taunting you in the dark; well, at least the Red Room made some creative choices regarding your time in their cell.

This would never end unless you let go, that much you understood by now. The Red Room wouldn’t stop torturing you until you broke, and you wouldn’t let yourself break. With no one coming to save you all you could do was burn this whole place down, letting your powers consume you in the process.

For years you tried to be different, to not use your powers for the sake of destruction like Magneto did when he destroyed your home. Yet here you were, knowing that was your only way out.

A sound of footsteps made you look to the side, the only doors leading to this room were right in front of you, so this wasn’t someone from the Red Room. No, you knew exactly who, or rather what, this was. “Is this it? The death you promised me?” your voice was hoarse, it almost hurt to speak. How long has it been since you had any water? Two days? Longer? You had no idea how much time passed since the last mouthful of water you were allowed to drink.

The darkness seemed to swirl in one spot of your prison, as if it was consumed by the one approaching. And then you saw it, this creature made of hundreds of small black birds, barely stuck together. With every step it took the wings of the birds closest to the surface flapped helplessly. The creature remained silent, only looking at you with empty, white eyes. “Silent treatment?” you coughed, wondering if this really was it. Would you just lose consciousness and die here? “Impaled, killed by my own powers. That was your promise,” you reminded it, but, like an oversized amalgamation of birds taking a human-like shape, it just tilted its head. It didn’t speak, didn’t open its’ mouth. Maybe this really was it. Sure, you weren’t impaled any longer, but the wound still troubled you, even if the Red Room made sure you wouldn’t bleed out, they never allowed it to properly heal. “What do you even want from me?”

The doors opened and you were temporarily blinded by the light piercing through the darkness. “Talking to yourself?” Yelena asked you as the creature stepped between the two of you. She didn’t react, didn’t acknowledge it, proving to you that no one else could see it. Somehow, every time you were close to death you saw it, and it only spoke to you the very first time.

“I am a good listener,” you joked, staring at the eyes of the creature. No matter how many times you saw it, you had no idea if it was an enemy or not. Or if it was simply neutral.

Yelena walked through the creature and you watched as it vanished into the darkness. Yelena snapped her fingers and brought your attention back to her. Luckily, she didn’t come empty-handed, she had a bottle of water in her left hand. “Here,” she offered the opened bottle to you and you never enjoyed the feeling of cool, fresh water, going down your throat. “Slowly,” Yelena chastised you and spilled some water on your face, which was greatly appreciated.

“Thanks,” you gave her a slight smile, but she wasn’t amused. “Won’t you get in trouble though?”

Yelena stared at you blankly, a lot like Natasha would when you were being ridiculous. They may not be related by blood, but the similarities were somehow there. “I shut down all surveillance in the room. Dreykov and Madame B are going to brainwash me tomorrow,” your eyes widened at that. After Natasha they probably didn’t want to take any chances. The thoughts of brainwashed Yelena fighting Natasha made your blood run cold. “If I said I want a fresh start, what can you do about it?” Yelena asked and you took a deep breath. You found a semblance of tentative companionship with the girl sharing the same fate as you and carrying the pain of being abandoned by Natasha. And you didn’t want her to lose herself to this damned place.

This was it. “Give it to you, as long as you can find an excuse to get out of the building. I’ll give you an hour before this whole place is turned to ashes,” you promised her, figuring that, if this was where you’d die, you’d at least take the Red Room down with you.

A/N: So... I'm curious, how would you feel if Yelena joined the team, more or less right now?

Taglist: @toxicitytiger @wandaromamoff69 @womenarehotsstuff @psychickryptonitebouquet @seventeen-x @maddsdotorg @arualdcg @ilovemybabygirlmoon @redroomgraduate @canyonyodeler @skz-xii @jokermoonie

Masterlist / First Part / Previous Part / Next Part

[meazalykov]

don't bleed where you cannot heal

lena oberdorf x reader requested

summary: there is a thin line between love and hate

warnings: angst, acl injuries, swearing

the stadium is getting you excited. it’s a friendly match, but for you, it’s anything but. 

this is all preparation for the upcoming world cup, your second. this is what you’ve dreamed of since you were a kid. the world stage, the chance to prove yourself once again as one of the best players in the world with the best country in the world.

the first whistle cuts through the air, and the game begins. germany presses hard from the start, their relentless high line suffocating, but your team is known for your aggression and tactical brilliance. 

you know how to play under pressure. as the minutes tick by, you quickly realize that your primary challenge tonight isn’t the team as a whole. it’s their number six, lena oberdorf.

she’s everywhere. the woman’s presence is like a shadow, constantly dogging your steps. the way she reads the game is impressive, and she’s physical—too physical. the first time she shoves you off the ball, it’s unnecessary. 

you had already passed it away, the play was moving forward, and yet her shoulder slams into you with enough force to make you stumble.

“get the fuck off me!” you snap, spinning to glare at her.

she doesn’t flinch. doesn’t even blink. lena just shakes her head and walks away, her expression calm, almost cold. it infuriates you, but you swallow the anger, forcing yourself to focus. she wants a reaction, and you won’t give her the satisfaction, even though you almost did.

the next twenty minutes are a battle of wills. she pushes, you evade. she lunges, you anticipate. it’s a dance, one where you refuse to let her lead. then, just before halftime, you seize your moment. the ball finds you outside the box, and you see her diving in for another tackle. 

you leap over her outstretched leg, the studs of her boot missing you by inches. planting your foot, you unleash a strike that sails cleanly into the top corner of the net.

the roar of the crowd is deafening, your teammates rushing to you in celebration. your captain grabs you in a tight hug, laughing as she says, 

“lets fucking go!!!!!”

as you jog back to midfield, you glance at lena, her frustration barely concealed, but she doesn’t say a word. you smirk, letting the satisfaction of the moment fuel you as the halftime whistle blows.

the locker room is buzzing during the break, your team riding the high of the lead. your coach gathers everyone, clipboard in hand, her expression serious despite the score.

“good half,” she begins, her voice cutting through the chatter. “don’t get comfortable though. their number six—” she doesn’t need to say lena’s name for everyone to know who she’s talking about—“is the anchor of the german team. she going to come out swinging. they don’t want to lose this, and she’s not the type to back down looking at what y/n is enduring.”

you nod, already expecting it. “i can handle it,” you say, your voice steady. you mean it. you’ve faced players like her before, and you’re not about to let her throw you off your game.

your captain gives you a reassuring pat on the back. 

“don’t let her get in your head.”

the second half begins, and lena’s intensity ramps up as expected. she’s glued to you, her physicality increasing with every passing minute. you can feel her presence even when she’s not touching you, the way she presses close, cutting off your options, forcing you to think faster, move smarter. 

in the 72nd minute, you’re sprinting down the left wing, the ball at your feet. your eyes scan the field, spotting your left winger making a run. just as you’re about to release the pass, a sudden force slams into you from behind.

the orange colored boot clips your ankle, and you go flying toward your team’s bench. the world tilts, and you hit the grass hard, skidding along the ground.

the whistle blows sharply, the referee immediately reaching for her pocket. you hear the crowd react—boos and gasps, some shouting for a red card. lena stands by one one of her teammates, their captain alex, her expression unreadable as the yellow is shown. 

she doesn’t argue, doesn’t apologize. she just turns and walks away, leaving you fuming.

“are you serious right now?” you mumble under your breath, pushing yourself up. pain radiates from your ankle, but you grit your teeth and wave off the medical staff. you’re not letting her see you weak.

your coach yells from the sideline, “need a sub?”

you nod, forcing yourself to stand. “i’m fine,” you call back, though the sting in your ankle says otherwise.

the game restarts, and you barely have time to settle before lena comes at you again. this time, it’s worse. you’ve just turned with the ball when she crashes into you, her body slamming against yours. your right leg gets caught awkwardly between hers, and you feel it—a sickening pop that shoots through your knee like lightning.

the scream tears from your throat before you can stop it. you collapse to the ground, clutching your knee, the pain blinding. it’s like nothing you’ve ever felt before, a sharp, unbearable agony that leaves you gasping for air. 

your teammates are there in seconds. one of them kneels beside you, her hand on your shoulder. unfortunately, it's a teammate who is coming back from their own acl injury. 

“stay down, stay down,” she says, her voice panicked. 

“don’t move.”

your captain storms toward lena, fury etched into her face. “are you trying to kill her? what the hell is wrong with you, you psychopath?!” she yells, jabbing a finger in lena’s direction.

lena stands her ground, her arms crossed, her face stoic as alex comes to her aid. she doesn’t respond, but the tension is palpable.

you can barely focus on the exchange, the pain consuming every ounce of your attention. your hands shake as you clutch your knee, your breathing ragged. tears stream down your face, though you try to hide them, burying your face in the grass.

“fuck,” you whisper, the word barely audible. deep down, you know what this is. you don’t want to admit it, but the telltale pop, the way your knee feels unstable—it’s your acl. 

“don’t say that,” one of your teammates says quickly, her voice trembling. 

“it could be something else. just… just breathe, okay?”

the medics arrive, carefully stabilizing your leg. every movement sends a fresh wave of pain through you, and you bite down hard on your lip to keep from screaming again. the world cup is only a month away. the thought makes your stomach churn. this wasn’t supposed to happen. 

your coach is by your side now, her face pale with concern. 

“we’re here, okay? just hold on. you’re going to be fine.”

fine. the word feels like a cruel joke. as they lift you onto the stretcher, your eyes meet lena’s one last time. there’s something in her expression now—a flicker of guilt, maybe regret—but you can’t bring yourself to care.

 all you can think about is the unbearable pain in your knee and the dream that’s slipping away.

the year since your acl injury was rough. you’ve been with bayern munich since transferring from chelsea in june 2023, but the timing of your injury had kept you sidelined, robbing you of the chance to have a true debut with bayern that year. 

now, with the olympics looming and a string of friendlies leading up to the tournament, you’ve finally made it back. the game against poland is your first international appearance since the injury, and while you’re excited, you’re cautious. 

you’ve come too far to risk it all now. 

the friendly goes smoothly. you keep your movements measured, easing into the rhythm of the game without overexerting yourself. your teammates rally around you, celebrating when you register an assist in the second half.

the final whistle brings relief, not just for the victory, but for the reassurance that your knee feels strong. you’ve made it this far.

back at bayern, the news of lena joining the team had been a bitter pill to swallow. the same lena who caused your acl tear. the same lena who showed no remorse, at least not that you saw. 

every time her name is mentioned, your stomach churns, and your teammates know it.

“she’s not as bad as you think,” lea had said one day in the training room, her voice cautious. 

“obi is my best friend. she didn’t hurt you on purpose.”

you scoffed, stretching your hamstring. 

“lea, i know she’s your best friend, but you don’t know what it’s like to be taken out like that. to lose everything for a year because someone couldn’t control themselves on the pitch.”

lea had frowned, her usual brightness dimmed. 

“she does feel bad, you know. she’s just not great at showing it. she wanted to talk to you when she visited here.”

“then she should’ve done it,” you’d snapped, your frustration bubbling over. 

“instead of waiting for me to approach her. that’s not how this works.”

lena’s acl injury in a friendly against austria happened before the olympics. after hering about it, you believed that it was karma. yes, a part of you felt vindicated, another part of you—buried deep—felt something else. pity, maybe. understanding, even. you’d been there, after all. the recovery, the mental toll, the feeling of being left behind while the world moved on without you. 

you quickly pushed those thoughts aside. she was the reason for your pain, and any sympathy you had was fleeting.

the olympic semifinal against germany is intense. both teams leave everything on the pitch, the game eventually decided by a single goal in extra time. your country wins, securing a spot in the final. 

as the celebrations begin, you take a moment to greet your bayern teammates—sydney, lea, giulia, and klara—who’ve come over to congratulate you.

“great game,” sydney says, pulling you into a quick hug before stepping back. 

“your knee is looking sharp.”

“thanks,” you reply, smiling. 

“you guys were solid too. it could’ve gone either way.”

you swap jerseys with sydney, holding hers in your hand as you turn to lea. 

“you okay? that tackle toward the end looked rough.”

you’re referring to a tackle one of your teammates did on lea, where it seemed like lea’s ankle was kicked in. 

lea waves you off. 

“i’m fine. it’s nothing.”

the conversation flows easily, lighthearted. you’re laughing at something giulia says when you catch sight of lena approaching out of the corner of your eye.

she’s on crutches, her pace slow but determined. your stomach tightens.

she’s heading straight for the group.

“uh, i’m sorry i think i hear my teammate calling for me–i– i’ve gotta get back to my team,” you say abruptly, cutting sydney off mid-sentence. you offer a tight smile before jogging away, your pulse quickening. 

you don’t look back, but you know she’s watching you.

behind you, the group falls silent for a moment before sydney breaks it. “she’s avoiding you again,” she says bluntly, her eyes on lena.

“yeah,” lena replies, her voice low. there’s a faint crease between her brows, the closest thing to a frown she’s shown all evening.

“are you ever going to apologize to her?” sydney asks, crossing her arms.

“i tried,” lena says, shifting her weight slightly on her crutches. 

“the first day at bayern, i walked up to her during warmups, but as soon as she saw me coming, she bolted. it’s been like that ever since. she won’t even stay in the same room as me if she can help it.”

klara sighs, glancing at lena. 

“have you tried writing to her? or asking someone else to talk to her for you?”

“what would i even say?” lena asks, her frustration evident. 

“sorry i ruined your career for a year? sorry i made you miss the world cup where you had to be left out of your team making it to the final?”

“yes,” klara replies firmly. “that’s exactly what you should say.”

lea shakes her head, her expression sympathetic. 

“i’ve tried talking to her,” the blonde says. 

“but it’s tough. she’s… she’s still dealing with it. at least the mental part.”

“she hates me,” lena mutters, her voice barely audible.

“she doesn’t hate you,” lea insists, though her tone suggests even she’s not entirely convinced. 

“she’s just angry. and hurt. give her time.”

“time,” lena echoes bitterly. 

“it’s been a year. how much more time does she need?”

sydney shrugs. 

“look, you’ve got a lot of ground to make up. you can’t just expect her to forgive you overnight.”

lena exhales sharply, her grip tightening on her crutches. “i never meant to hurt her,” she says quietly. 

“it wasn’t intentional.”

“we know,” lea says gently. 

“but you have to make her believe that.”

as you jog back to your team, you feel the weight of their eyes on your back. you know you’re avoiding her. it’s not subtle, and everyone has noticed. you can’t bring yourself to face her. not yet. the wound is still too raw, the memories too vivid.

you’re back from your acl injury, but you’re scared of it happening again. the first few weeks of recovery, while seeing your country making it to the world cup final without you, was one of the darkest points in your life. you believe that your country could’ve won the final if you were present. instead, lena had to be overly aggressive in a friendly game. 

you try to focus on the celebration, on your teammates and the victory for going to the final of the olympics. however, lena’s presence lingers. 

you don’t want to think about her, about the injury, about the months of recovery that followed. no matter how hard you try, she’s there, a reminder of everything you’ve endured. she is going to be your teammate during the club season, which you have no idea how you will avoid her then.

as you stand on the sideline, watching your team huddle around your coach, you catch a glimpse of lena out of the corner of your eye. she’s still with sydney and the others, her expression distant.

for a moment, you wonder what she’s thinking. but you quickly push the thought away. it doesn’t matter.

you’ve got a final to prepare for, and she’s the last thing you need on your mind.

three weeks later, the golden medal resting in your room is a reminder of everything you’ve overcome. winning the olympic gold with your country felt like redemption, a tangible reward after the hell of the past year. 

everyone at bayern has been nothing but supportive since your return, congratulating you with hugs and pats on the back when you walked into training the first day back. even the german girls, who’d taken bronze, had been gracious. most of them, anyway.

now, with training over, you’re sitting in the lounge, nursing a sports drink and watching tuva and alana messing around on the pitch outside. their laughter carries faintly through the glass, light and carefree, as they attempt some flashy dribbling moves. 

you smile to yourself, their joy contagious even from afar.

the door behind you opens and closes softly, and you think it’s georgia. she’d left a few minutes ago, maybe forgetting her jacket or something. turning around with a small smile, you open your mouth to greet her—but your smile instantly fades.

it’s not georgia. it’s lena.

you freeze, your body stiffening like prey caught in a predator’s gaze. lena’s crutches are gone now, and though she still has a slight limp, she moves with ease. 

the expression on her face is serious, but her eyes hold something softer, something almost vulnerable. 

“can we talk?” she asks, her voice steady but quieter than you’ve ever heard it. 

you shake your head immediately, panic rising in your chest. “no,” you say firmly, already standing. 

you grab your drink and try to walk past her, but she moves to block the door.

“please,” she says, her tone bordering on desperate now. 

“just… five minutes. that’s all I’m asking.”

you hesitate, your jaw clenching. 

“why? so you can say sorry in five minutes and think everything will magically be fine like the last year did not happen? no thanks.”

she exhales sharply, frustration flashing across her face. 

“it’s not like that.”

“then what is it, lena?” you snap, your voice rising. 

“what do you want from me? because I really can’t do this right now.”

“i want to fix this,” she says, her voice firm. 

“i can’t stand how things are between us. i hate it.”

“oh, you hate it?” you laugh bitterly, setting your drink down on a nearby table. 

“well, welcome to the fucking club. do you know how much i hated not being able to play for a year? watching everyone else live my dream while i was stuck rehabbing? you did that to me, lena. you.”

her face pales, but she doesn’t back down. “i know,” she says quietly. 

“and i’ve tried to tell you—”

“when?” you cut her off, your anger bubbling over. 

“when did you try, huh? because i don’t remember you saying a single word to me after it happened. not on the field, not in the locker room, not at bayern. nothing. you just… moved on like it didn’t matter.”

“that’s not true,” she says, her voice shaking slightly. 

“i’ve felt awful about it every day since it happened. but every time i tried to talk to you, you wouldn’t let me.”

“can you blame me?” you shoot back. 

“every time i see you, i just… i can’t stop thinking about it. the pain, the surgery, the months of recovery. and then you come to bayern like nothing ever happened, and i’m supposed to just… what? smile and be your teammate?”

she flinches at your words but keeps her gaze locked on yours. “it wasn’t like that for me,” she says.

 “i’ve been trying to figure out how to fix this since the day it happened, but you shut me out before i even had the chance.”

you cross your arms, glaring at her.

“maybe because you didn’t show any remorse until you tore your own acl. maybe you needed to feel that pain to understand what you did to me.”

lena’s eyes widen, and for a moment, you think she might cry. but she takes a deep breath, steadying herself. 

“that’s not fair, and you know it,” she says quietly. 

“i didn’t need to tear my acl to feel remorse. i felt it the second you hit the ground screaming. i felt it every time i saw you in rehab, every time i saw your name on the injury list. yes, i was too much of a coward to say anything then, but it doesn’t mean i didn’t care.”

your anger falters slightly, the raw honesty in her voice catching you off guard. you look away, your chest tightening. “then why didn’t you say anything?” you ask, your voice softer now. 

“why didn’t you just… apologize?”

“because i was scared,” she admits, and the vulnerability in her tone surprises you. 

“i was scared you’d hate me even more, that it wouldn’t make a difference. and then you came back, and i saw how much you hated me, and it just… it felt like there was no point.”

you sit down heavily on the couch, running a hand through your hair. the tension in your chest doesn’t ease, but the anger begins to ebb, replaced by a dull ache. “you don’t get it,” you say quietly. 

“it wasn’t just the injury. it was everything after. the doubt, the fear, the feeling that i’d never be the same player again. i blamed you for all of it because it was easier than blaming myself.”

“you shouldn’t have to blame yourself for any of it,” lena says, sitting down across from you. her voice is gentle now, almost pleading. 

“it was my fault. i was reckless, and i’m sorry. i know that doesn’t fix anything, but it’s the truth.”

you look at her, searching her face for any sign of insincerity, but all you see is regret. for the first time, you notice how tired she looks, how the weight of the past year has clearly worn on her too.

“i don’t know if i can just forgive you,” you admit, your voice barely above a whisper.

“i’m not asking you to,” she says quickly. 

“i just… i don’t want you to hate me anymore. i can’t stand it.”

you exhale shakily, the vulnerability in her words breaking down the last of your defenses. 

“i don’t hate you,” you say finally. 

“i thought i did, but… i think i was just angry. at you, at myself, at everything.”

she nods slowly, relief softening her features. “that’s a start,” she says, a small, tentative smile tugging at her lips.

you shake your head, a faint laugh escaping despite the heaviness in the room. 

“you’re really persistent, you know that?”

“i’ve been told,” she says, her smile growing. 

“but for what it’s worth… you’re worth it.”

the months following your tense conversation with lena go smoother than you ever thought possible. she’s still lena but she’s also softer now, more willing to meet you halfway. you’re not best friends, but the animosity is gone, replaced with something… lighter. 

every time she hits a milestone in her recovery, you find yourself smiling. not the forced, polite smile you’d given her before, a genuine one. when she starts jumping on her injured leg, you can’t help but feel proud. 

when she takes her first jog, the grin on her face is contagious, and you find yourself clapping along with the team. it reminds you of yourself.

when lena announces to the locker room one day that she might be back to training by march 1st, the excitement is palpable. even you can’t help but cheer, giving her a small nod when her eyes meet yours. 

lena’s face lights up. for a moment, you wonder how you ever managed to hate her.

the team notices the shift between you two. 

“you and lena might actually be friends now,” lea teases one afternoon, nudging you with her elbow. you roll your eyes but don’t deny it. truthfully, the idea doesn’t bother you as much as it would have a few months ago.

fate, as always, has other plans.

it starts small, almost imperceptible. you catch yourself watching lena more often, your eyes drawn to her when she’s on the sidelines. during a match against frankfurt, you score a goal, the kind of strike that makes the crowd erupt. 

as you jog back to your position, your eyes instinctively find her in the stands. she’s watching you, her face glowing with pride, and you smirk up at her. no hand symbol, no exaggerated gesture—just a simple smirk and head nod. 

the way her smile widens in response sends a strange flutter through your chest.

then there’s the time in the lounge when lena tries to lift something too heavy for her recovering leg. you’re across the room when you see her struggling, and without thinking, you rush over.

“let me help,” you say, taking the weight from her hands.

your fingers brush hers as you adjust your grip, and for a moment, neither of you moves. her hand is warm beneath yours, and the realization that you don’t want to let go hits you like a freight train. 

before you can process it, lea walks in, and you rip your hand away like you’ve been burned. lena doesn’t say anything, but the flicker of disappointment in her eyes stays with you for the rest of the day.

it’s lena who makes the first move. subtle at first—lingering glances, the occasional brush of her arm against yours—but then bolder. during a team dinner, she catches your eye from across the table and winks. your cheeks flush, and she smirks knowingly but that was not enough for the german woman.

she sits beside you at the team dinner, and doesn’t mind the fact that she links her hand with yours, pulling both of your hands to hold together on top of your left thigh. it’s maddening, really, how easily she gets under your skin now in a different and better way, but you can’t deny the way your heart races every time she’s near.

one evening after training, you’re alone in the lounge again, sipping on a protein shake and scrolling through your phone. outside the window, you can see tuva and alana messing around on the pitch, their laughter faint but audible. 

the door opens, and you glance up, expecting georgia or lea. instead, it’s lena.

your heart skips a beat, but you quickly school your expression, trying to seem nonchalant. 

“hey,” you say, your voice more neutral than warm.

“hey,” she replies, closing the door behind her. she hesitates for a moment, then crosses the room, sitting on the couch opposite you. 

“can i ask you something?”

you nod, setting your drink down. 

“sure.”

she looks nervous, a rare sight that catches you off guard. “do you… consider me a friend?” she asks, her voice quieter than usual.

you blink, caught off guard by the question. “uh… kinda?” you say, the word slipping out before you can think it through.

obi’s face falls slightly, and you immediately feel a pang of guilt. “kinda?” she repeats, her tone laced with disappointment. 

“so you still hate me?”

“no, no,” you say quickly, sitting up straighter. 

“it’s not that. it’s just… complicated.”

“then explain it to me,” she says, her voice firmer now. 

“please.”

you exhale, running a hand through your hair. 

“it’s hard, okay? for so long, all i could feel when i looked at you was anger. and then you got hurt, and it was like… i didn’t know what to feel anymore. i wanted to hate you, but i couldn’t. and now… now i don’t even know what this is.”

“what this is?” she echoes, her eyes searching yours.

you nod, swallowing hard. 

“yeah. us. whatever we are.”

she’s silent for a moment, then leans forward, her elbows resting on her knees. 

“what if i told you i don’t want to be just friends?”

your breath catches, your eyes snapping to hers. 

“what?”

“i like you,” she says simply, her voice steady despite the vulnerability in her eyes. 

“i’ve liked you for a while now. and i know i screwed up, and i know i don’t deserve anything from you, but i can’t keep pretending i don’t feel this way.”

your heart is pounding so loudly you’re sure she can hear it. “lena…” you start, but your voice falters.

“you don’t have to say anything,” she says quickly. 

“i just needed you to know.”

you take a shaky breath, the weight of her words settling over you. “i didn’t want to call you a friend,” you say slowly, your voice barely above a whisper, “because i don’t want to be just friends either.”

her eyes widen slightly, hope flickering across her face. 

“i don’t know when it happened, but… it’s there. i feel it too.”

she doesn’t hesitate. in one smooth motion, she moves closer, her hand reaching out to cup your cheek. “can i?” she asks softly, her eyes locked on yours.

you nod again, unable to find the words. her lips meet yours, gentle at first, testing the waters. your heart races, your hands instinctively finding their way to her waist. the kiss deepens, slow and deliberate, as if you’re both trying to make up for all the time you spent apart. 

her lips are soft, warm, and they taste faintly of spearmint gum.

when you finally pull back, you’re both breathing heavily, her forehead resting against yours. “how does it feel to kiss the girl you hated a year ago?” she teases, a playful smile tugging at her lips.

you laugh softly, swatting her arm. 

“don’t ruin the moment.”

“what moment?” she asks, grinning now.

“this moment.”

this time, it’s you who leans in, capturing her lips in another kiss. as if you didn’t hate her one year ago.

masterlist

[tatsumiku1]

On the phone Lena : hi, darling Kara : Le..Lena, hi, I, um, do you have a sec ? Just, um wanted to hear your voice Lena : Honey, everything ok ? What is it ? What do you need baby ? Kara : I just miss you. Lena : I am coming to you. Kara : LENA, YOU ARE IN METROPOLIS. AND I CAN'T FLY RIGHT NOW. no, just talk to me you don't have to come here. Lena : Stay on the phone baby. Sometime later Kara : did you seriously fly all the way here just because I was missing you and wanted a hug Lena : I will run across the earth, just to give you a hug. Lena : now come here I need to cuddle you for atleast 20 hours straight

[gingiesworld]

The Scarlet Storm : Hydra Reborn

Chapter Nine

Wanda Maximoff x Fem GiP Reader

Warnings : Fluff, Angst

18+ MINORS DNI

Yelena woke the next day, sitting up in her bed. Sighing knowing that Y/N was just down the hall in her own room. Yelena headed straight into the bathroom. Doing her morning routine before heading down to the kitchen. Already finding Wanda making breakfast for everyone.

"Wanda, how has Y/N been?" Yelena asked as she grabbed a cup of coffee.

"She is adjusting. I think she is remembering more." Wanda said with a bright smile. "Was Y/N the only one to ever call you Lena?"

"Yeah. No one else would call me that." Yelena told her. Her heart racing at the thought of Y/N remembering. "Do you think?" Before Wanda could answer, Y/N had already entered the kitchen.

"Hey Wanda. Why didn't you wake me?" Y/N asked her as she grabbed a bottle of water. Yelena watched Y/N as she joined Wanda.

"You needed the sleep. You helped me a lot in here yesterday." Wanda told her. Y/N started to get the plates and set the table ready for everyone. Turning to finally see Yelena watching the two.

"Hey." Y/N smiled at her. Yelena couldn't help the tears starting to fall as she recognised the eyes. The eyes that she found so much safety and comfort in as a child.

"Y/N." She whispered as Y/N nodded with a gentle smile. "It's Lena."

"Little widow?" Y/N whispered as Yelena nodded. All of the others were stood watching as Nat looked over the scene with jealousy. Y/N remembered Yelena instead of Nat.

"Yeah." Y/N placed the plates down before pulling Yelena in for a bone crushing hug. Tears running down both of their faces.

"God you've grown so much Lena." Y/N beamed before the two turned to Nat. "Sister hug?" The two opened their arms for her. Nat running instantly into the embrace of her sisters.

"I can't believe this." Yelena whispered as the three pulled away. "We're all back together."

"I remember saying that I would never leave you." Y/N told her sadly. "I'm sorry that I was gone."

"You don't have to apologise. That was Alexei and Melina's doing. They worked for Dreykov when we were children." Yelena pointed out. Y/N pulled away from the two. A look of pain and anger on her face.

"They were the reason I lost you both." Y/N started to snarl. "They were the reason I was tortured and punished practically every damn day. It was all because of them, and god knows what you two went through."

"Y/N." Yelena and Nat tried to calm her down but neither of them working. Y/N was gripping the counter harshly muttering under her breath.

"Y/N." Wanda spoke softly. Gently holding Y/N's arm. Causing Y/N to divert her attention to Wanda. "It's ok. You're all safe here." Wanda whispered as she looked into Y/N's eyes. Y/N took a deep breath before she straightened up. Slowly turning around to see both Nat and Yelena with worry on their faces.

"I uh I need some air." Y/N mumbled before she walked passed everyone, outside the compound. Y/N didn't know how long she was out there for as everyone sat and ate their breakfast.

"I don't remember her ever being like that." Yelena said as Nat agreed.

"She has been through a lot. More than what we have." Nat told her. Although they shouldn't really compare their times with both Hydra and the Red Room. Y/N was tortured for nothing. Punished for even breathing while she was there.

As Y/N started back towards the compound after calming down, she was approached by some agents she thought were SHIELD.

"Y/N Romanoff." One of them asked as turned around to face them.

"Who's asking?" She asked, her accent coming out stronger.

"Hydra wants their property back." Another sneered before they started to attack. Even with the bracelet, they barely standed a chance. Y/N fought as hard as she could. Even as the Avengers were alerted about the fight. Wanda was the first to arrive. Using her powers to knock the one who had injected Y/N with a syringe.

The rest finally arriving as the others agents disappeared. Steve picked up the agent who Wanda had knocked out. Taking him to the cells.

"That felt like a bitch." Y/N muttered as she pulled the syringe from her neck. Looking at the now empty object in her hand before she collapsed.

"Shit." Wanda just caught her before she hit the ground. "Bruce. She needs Bruce." Wanda used her powers to carry Y/N to the med bay. The syringe in Nat's hand.

Y/N was out cold for hours. Wanda, Nat and Yelena remained by her side. Although they had been informed that Y/N was perfectly healthy. But she was injected with an unknown substance.

"Why didn't they fight harder?" Yelena asked as the two shrugged.

"Steve or Maria will get it out of our new prisoner soon enough." Nat said as she stood up. "I need to get out of here. I need to know why they came for Y/N now and why they didn't take her. Why they just ran." Both Wanda and Yelena watched as Nat left the room before Yelena turned to Wanda.

"You like my sister." Yelena stated with a serious expression on her face.

"What?" Wanda asked her. Confused by her statement.

"Y/N. I can see by the way you look at her." Yelena told her as Wanda chuckled. Shaking her head no.

"I don't even know her." Wanda defended as Yelena smiled.

"You don't have to know someone to like them more than you should. Or for them to make you feel something." Yelena stated as Wanda took a deep breath.

"I just lost Vis." Wanda whispered as Yelena shook her head.

"He died 7 years ago now Wanda." Yelena stated. "We have been back for 2 years. You are allowed to feel for someone else. You are allowed to move on."

"I'm just scared to I guess." Wanda whispered shakily. Tears in her eyes. "All I have ever known since I was 10 was pain, loss and suffering. But then Vis was there to pull me out of the darkness. He was the one to keep me from slowly disappearing and now he is gone."

"That doesn't mean that you should remain distant from something that could be amazing. Something that could change your life for the better." Yelena told her. "Take a chance on her. Maybe your whole future happiness lies with my sister."

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