#Alex danvers reader insert

[supercorpkid]

If Death Has No Claim

Supergirl. Baby Danvers. Lena Luthor x BD! Reader, Alex Danvers.

Word Count: 3.7k

Notes: kinda angsty, but happy ending.

You don’t remember leaving the fight. Just pain—sharp, cold, blooming behind your ribs like something ruptured. Everything was too loud. Too bright. Then, too dark.

Somehow, you find her balcony. Barely. You land clumsy on your knees, half-conscious. Your vision swims, one eye swollen shut, blood trailing warm down your face.

You reach the glass with shaking fingers. Tap once. A wet, red print smears across the windowpane. You try to breathe. Can’t. Try to knock again. Don’t make it. Your hand slips down the glass as you collapse, leaving a trail like a signature.

You can’t believe this is how you die.

She appears in the blur of it. The door flies open. Lena stares for half a second—frozen, hand still on the handle—before she’s rushing forward.

“Oh my god, oh my god,” she breathes, her voice cracking like glass. “What happened to you?”

You don’t know if this is real or a dream. If this is the next life or still your own. But you say her name. Chant it. Like a promise, like an oath, like a last word.

“Lena…”

Your lips barely move. You taste blood. And then you're gone.

She doesn’t remember asking for help. Doesn’t remember yelling Hope to initiate the Lena Luthor Protocol. Doesn’t remember the medkits or the blacklisted Luthor tech no one knows she still has. Lena doesn’t even know how she manages to carry a Kryptonian to her couch.

The world’s gone fuzzy at the edges—except for you. You, limp and bloodied on her sofa. You, breathing shallowly. You, barely alive.

She wipes the blood off your face with trembling hands. Tells herself it’s to assess the damage, to keep you from choking on it. But the truth is: she can’t stand to see your face like this.

Not when your skin is usually warm. Not when your mouth is usually curled in that stupid smile that drives her insane.

Now it’s slack. Pale. Split open from someone’s fist.

A tear falls before she can stop it. 

“Who did this to you?” she whispers, voice shaking. “Why—why does it always have to be you?”

You don’t answer. Of course you don’t. You’re out cold. Barely holding on.

So she presses her forehead to yours and whispers it again, softer now.

“Why does it always have to be you, my love?”

She cleans your face with trembling hands. Clutches at your ruined suit. Whispers your name again and again, like she could summon you back with nothing but want.

Nothing changes. Not even as the sunlight emulator beams down at full capacity, burning both your skins.

The silence presses in like a vice.

Her hand trembles as she brushes your hair back from your face—careful, so careful not to touch the bruising blooming beneath your eye. Her fingers come away bloody. Again.

And then the memory slips in. Like bile. Like poison.

It started with laughter.

The kind that left you breathless—leaning into each other on Lena’s couch, the TV long forgotten. One of your knees was hooked over hers, your fingers toying absently with the sleeve of her cardigan like you didn’t even realize you were doing it.

And Lena—Lena had been staring at your smile like it was sunlight. Like it was something sacred. Like it belonged to her and not to you.

You turned toward her, some half-formed joke still on your lips, but it died there when you saw her face. The way her smile had softened into something else. Something closer to awe. To devotion.

Her eyes dropped to your mouth. The room stilled.

It felt like a spark. A held breath. Neither of you moved—but the air between you did.

You were so close. So achingly close.

Your fingers slipped down her sleeve until your palm settled on her tight. And hers, as if pulled by gravity, found your waist. She held you there—gentle, but sure. Like she wanted you as close as this, if not closer.

Still, no one moved. Not yet.

It felt like one of those moments that lived outside of time.

You were the one who leaned in. Just a little. Just enough for your noses to brush. For her to feel your breath on her skin like a ghost touch. Close enough that she parted her lips and shut her eyes—trusting, wanting, willing.

So ready. All yours.

But you didn’t kiss her. No.

You whispered her name. And it sounded like she owned it. Like she was the only Lena in the world. Or at least, the only one that mattered.

“Lena… I can’t,”

Her eyes opened. Confused. Soft. Her hands tightened slightly at your waist, stopping you from pulling away.

“Can’t what?”

You swallowed, trying to steady your voice.

“I can’t be your girlfriend.”

She flinched—just slightly. “Oh.”

“It’s not that I don’t want to,” you rushed. “God, Lena, I do. You have no idea how much I do.”

“Then why—?”

“Because what we are, what we could be, it’s more than that. More than titles and could-have-beens and almost-was. I don’t want to be something the world can name and then destroy when it gets hard.”

She didn’t look away. Didn’t interrupt. But her hands had started to shake.

You reached up. Touched her cheek.

“I want to be your person,” you said. “The one you trust when everything else falls apart. The one who stays. The one who knows you better than anyone.”

She blinked a tear.

“Lena, I—I want to be yours in a way no one can take away. Even if you fall in love with someone else someday, or your family disapproves, or the world tries to tear us apart—I want that unshakable, permanent place. The one that’s always mine.”

She closed her eyes again, breathing like she'd just been hit.

“I want to love you past the boundaries of this life,” you said, voice cracking. “I want to promise you something stronger.”

She was really crying now. Silent tears slipping down her cheeks.

And then, your voice went quiet. Reverent.

“Let my last breath be yours. Let your name be the final word on my lips. I want to give you more than just my heart, Lena—because when my body is no longer here, I want you to still hold my soul.”

That broke her. But she kissed your knuckles anyway. Touched your face like she was memorizing it.

Because worse than not having you the way she wanted… was not having you at all.

“Okay,” she whispered. “Okay.”

And for some goddamn reason, she let you walk away from that moment. From her. Because you made it sound poetic. You made it feel holy. Better than heaven itself.

But it was everything except what she needed. The soul, but not the kiss. The promise, but not the touch. You gave her everything but yourself. And somehow, that still felt better than nothing.

​​And now, as Lena kneels beside you, your blood drying on her hands, that moment claws its way back to life. She remembers what she promised not to need. But she needs it. She needs you.

Because of all the places in the world, you came here. To her.

And when she pulled open the balcony door and caught you before you could fall, the last thing you managed— The last word that had crawled from your throat, thick with blood and pain—

Was her name. Just her name.

And now she understands more clearly than ever: You're dying. And that’s why you came. To keep your promise.

Lena bites down on her lip, trying not to be sick. She wouldn't know how to explain what pain tastes like when it melts into her tongue.

She wants to scream. To beg. Instead she reaches for your hand again—threading her fingers between yours like she’s trying to re-learn how to breathe.

“Do you know what that did to me?” she asks, staring at your broken face. “That night? Having to watch you walk away, like loving me too much was some kind of mercy?”

Her voice shakes. Breaks.

“I don’t want your last breath, Y/N. I want your firsts. I want the rest. I want all of it.”

And when her tears fall this time, they hit your skin like rain.

“Don’t make me keep that promise,” she whispers. “Wake up and love me like I need you to. Like you want to.”

It’s Alex who reaches out, less than an hour later.

There’s panic trying to be buried under her calm. A watery sound crackling at the edges of her voice.

“We lost track of Y/N,” she says with not even a hello first, like the words are spilling out before she can think them. “The mission went bad. Kara—Kara’s in the med bay at the Tower. Unconscious. We got her out in time, before it got worse, but I—Lena, I don’t know where my little sister is. Please, help me—”

“She’s here.”

Lena can’t deal with Alex’s tears right now. Not when she has so many of her own—burning behind her eyes, catching in her throat, begging to be let out.

“She flew here. I’m doing everything I can, okay? She’s—”  Lena glances back at you. The word safe dances at the edge of her mind, something she wants to offer to ease your sister’s fear. But she can’t say it. Not when you look like that—raw and gone.

“I’ve got her.”

Alex exhales. Softer now. “I’ll take care of Kara. You keep her safe.”  A pause. A shift. Something like a watery smile in her voice.  “She’d want it that way anyway.”

Lena closes her eyes. That shouldn't make her cry harder. But it does.

“I know.”

“If she needs anything, you call me, okay?”

Lena nods, even though Alex can’t see her. “I will.”

She hangs up without saying goodbye.

And when she sets the phone down, she turns back to you—like she’s never going to look away again.

It takes her a while to realize her hands are shaking. That she hasn’t moved since she hung up on Alex. Just stood there, watching your chest rise and fall in that uneven, terrifying rhythm.

Lena forces herself into motion.

She tries to make you more comfortable, pillows, blankets, warmer sunlight. But it’s not enough. Not when your skin’s still cold. Not when your lips are cracked and pale.

So she lifts you, as carefully as she can, like you might shatter in her arms. You're heavier than she expects—not in weight, but in everything else. The limpness. The trust. The unbearable stillness.

She lays you in her bed.

And then she hesitates.

Your suit is clinging to you like second skin, ripped in places, soaked through in others. Lena swallows hard. Her hands hover above your chest and she peels the suit away slowly, whispering apologies like prayers, like spells to keep you here.

The first thing she notices, when she pulls back the ruined fabric, is the blood.

It’s everywhere, still tacky near the worst of it. Smearing over your skin like something possessive. And for a second she can’t breathe just from looking at it. Food threatening to come back, again.

She forces herself to keep going. Fetches warm water. A cloth. 

“I’m sorry,” she whispers, not sure what she's apologizing for. “I’m just— I need to see where it's bad, okay my love?”

You don’t answer. Of course you don’t. Haven't moved an inch in hours.

She cleans you in silence. It feels too sacred to speak, too fragile to break with anything less than reverence. Her hands are gentle. Shaking, yes, but steady in all the ways that count. She tends to the blood on your stomach with careful fingers, wiping away what she can, dabbing softly at broken skin.

It’s intimate in a way that terrifies her. You’re wearing nothing but silence and scars. And she hates that it feels familiar.

She dresses you in something soft. Something you kept here—because of course you did. You left pieces of yourself tucked into drawers, hidden in plain sight. Quietly scattered through her house. Nestled deep inside her soul.

Then she notices her own shirt—ruined and sticky with your blood. She takes it off with a wince, grabbing the first sweatshirt from your drawer.

It smells like you.

And for the first time since you crashed into her arms, something in her unclenches. It smells like life. Like comfort. Like all the things she used to have, when loving you in stolen glances was enough.

She slips it on. Breathes deep. Pretends the fabric is a heartbeat.

And then she climbs into the bed.

It starts with respectful space. But the longer she watches you lie there, too still, too pale, the more the tether between your heart and hers pulls taut.

She circles closer. Inch by inch. Like gravity.

Until her forehead rests against your shoulder, her nose nudging your collarbone, her hand curled between you like a secret. She whispers your name. Just once. Like a spell.

And, “I love you.”

Soft. Shaking. Terrified.

“If you make it out of this,” she breathes, “I’ll let you choose, okay? You can keep the soul and not the lips, if that’s what you want. I’ll give you anything. I’ll break in whatever shape you need. You can have me—my heart, my body, everything—any way you want.”

Her voice catches. Her lips brush the skin on your neck.

“Just stay.”

She doesn’t mean to fall asleep. But she does—right there, wrapped around your quiet body like you’re the only thing that still makes sense in this world. The night lulls her with your breath too shallow to trust, your pulse too faint to hear. 

She wakes to warmth. The soft kind. Morning light pouring through the windows like a promise she doesn’t dare believe in.

And then she sees you.

The sunlight has found you first—spilling across your skin like it remembers you. Touching your face like a benediction. There’s color in your cheeks now. The faintest flush, but unmistakable. And your lips… they aren’t blue anymore. They look almost kissable again, and the thought makes something tear in her chest.

She jolts upright. Her body floods with panic before her mind can stop it. She’s scrambling off the bed, half-tripping as she rushes for the med kit on the dresser, fingers shaking too hard to unzip it properly. She tries to remember everything—vitals, CPR counts, Kryptonian physiology—anything that might tell her how to keep you alive.

She doesn’t notice your hand move at first. Not until it catches hers. Fingers weak, but there.

And Lena freezes. Looks down.

Your eyes aren’t fully open, but they’re fluttering. Heavy with exhaustion. But you’re here. You’re here.

And then—your voice. A rasp, broken and aching and soft as prayer, “Don’t go.”

She doesn’t breathe. Just stares, wide-eyed, as if you might disappear if she blinks.

“Don’t move,” you whisper again. “Please. Just… come back. I need you.”

Lena shatters. Drops everything. Crawls back into bed with the urgency of someone who’s just been given a second chance. Her hand finds its way over your heart, slow and careful, trembling now for an entirely different reason. Her head settles back on your chest like it belongs there.

And for the first time, she lets herself believe that maybe it does.

Lena must’ve fallen asleep again—curled into you, her breath finally syncing with yours, her hand still on your heart like it’s been counting your heartbeats even in her slumber.

She hears it before she feels it. A low, impatient grumble beneath her ear. She gets up, just to watch how your eyes flutter enough to make her know you're waking up, how your breath is strong, how the colors are back into your face, and all the purples and cuts that were painting you are slowly fading. Very slowly. 

Then your voice, raspy but unmistakably yours breaks her out of her trance, “What? Is there something on my face? I know it’s not food, ’cause I’m starving.”

She doesn’t laugh. Actually, she almost hits you.

She jerks back, staring down at you, her mouth caught somewhere between a sob and a swear, because how dare you make jokes right now? How dare you be funny, be you, like she didn’t just spend a night bargaining with every god she doesn’t believe in? Like she didn’t pull blood off your skin with trembling fingers and whisper promises you were never supposed to hear?

But then you finally open your eyes, and you see her. You see it on her face. The tears, drying fresh on her cheeks. The darkness under her eyes. The way her lip trembles like she’s still stuck in the moment where she thought she'd lost you.

You reach up with hands that feel like hope and find her face. Thumb brushing just under her eye, reverent and gentle. A ghost of a smile finding your lips—just enough to soften her.

“It’s okay, Zhao” you whisper. “I’m here. I’m not leaving you.”

And she breaks all over again.

Not with panic this time. But with relief so violent, it shakes her apart. Tears streaming down unstoppable.

She kisses your palm. Nods once like she believes you. And then she presses her forehead to yours, eyes closed, heart wide open.

“You’re not allowed to scare me like that again,” she breathes. “Ever.”

She stays like that for a while. Forehead to yours, breath shared, her hand cradling your cheek like she’s still trying to convince herself you’re real. That this is real. That she didn’t dream you back to her.

You’re the one who breaks the silence again. In a way that shatters the fragility of the moment, but gives life to it at the same time.

“Hey… do you think there’s food in this apartment or am I gonna have to crawl to the nearest diner and hope they take near-death as currency?”

She lets out a noise—something between a sob and a laugh. Wipes her face with the back of her hand, still trembling.

“You’re unbelievable,” she says, voice cracking in the middle.

“What?” you rasp, smile crooked, soft, “I'm Kryptonian. You knew that about me when you chose to love me.”

She shakes her head like she can’t decide if she wants to strangle you or kiss you.

Then she gets up—reluctantly, like leaving your side might undo whatever miracle just occurred—and mutters, “Fine. Don’t move. I’ll see what I can find.”

“Bring coffee,” you call after her, voice a little stronger now, just enough to make her pause in the doorway and look back at you. “Why are you looking at me like that?”

She wants to say it. Wants to carve it into the air between you— how you’re hers, how she loves you with a depth that rewrote her, how she’d argue with death a thousand times just to keep you breathing.  But instead, she only smiles.

“Just thinking if I should let it go, or kill you myself.”

You laugh at the joke, and she can't think of a more beautiful sound she would ever want to hear in her life.

Lena moves in the kitchen, quickly, purposely. Coffee. Food. Everything you like. All arranged fast on a tray, because she refuses to waste another second away from you.

Your face lights up when she walks back into the bedroom, and she schools herself into believing it's because of the food you so desperately need, and not because of her.

“Oh, baby,” You manage, between the coughs and strangled noises you make while trying to sit up in bed. She ditches the tray on the bedside table, to help you up. “You saved my life and brought me coffee. What’d I ever do to deserve you?”

She rolls her eyes, before sitting on the edge of the bed, to help you eat. But before she can move, your hands find her wrist, and stops her at once.

“Lena, I died.” Your voice is barely a whisper. “Last night, between the fight and you finding me—I died.”

“No, you were—”

“I did.” You nod, slow and sure. “I died. In your arms. Just like I promised I would.” A breath trembles between you. “And somehow, you gave me another chance. Another life.”

Her throat bobs as your hand rises—fingers brushing against the fragile warmth of her neck. “You’re the reason I’m alive, the only reason I’m still here.”

Lena wants to speak. To protest. But nothing she could say feels worthy enough to touch this moment.

So you keep going, voice softer now, reverent like prayer.

“I gave you my soul in that last life, Lena. Gave you my final breath, my last act of devotion. But now… I want to give you more than that.” Your eyes meet hers—clear, unwavering. “Please. Let me give you even more in this one.”

Lena stares at you like she’s trying to memorize every inch of your face, every word you just said. Like she might lose you again if she blinks.

Her lips part, but no sound comes out. What could she possibly say to that? What answer could ever be enough?

So she doesn’t answer.

She leans in.

Slow, cautious—like approaching a secret. Her hand finds your cheek, cradling it gently, reverently, like she’s afraid to shatter you all over again. And you, you lean into the touch like it’s the only gravity you know.

When her lips touch yours, it’s not perfect. It’s trembling and tear-stained and full of all the things she never thought she’d get the chance to feel again. But it’s real.

It’s not hungry—it’s holy. It’s the kind of kiss people think about when they don’t believe in second chances. The kind you give someone when you’ve already mourned them, and they’ve somehow returned to you anyway.

You kiss her back like you’ve been waiting a hundred lifetimes for her to finally understand: this was always the point.

She pulls away just enough to rest her forehead against yours. Both of you are breathing hard. Eyes closed. Hearts open. Then, in a voice so quiet it barely exists:

“Okay,” she says. “You don't get to scare me like this ever again.”

You smile. Press your lips to hers again, just briefly.

“I can't promise you that, baby. What I can promise is that I'll come back to you every time. Even after I die, I'll come back to you.”

Lena kisses you one more time. Slow, lingering.

And when she pulls back, she finally says it, “I love you. I’ll always be waiting. I'll always be yours.”

[thinking1bee]

Supergirl Masterlist

Kara Danvers x Reader

Alex Danvers x Reader

Lena Luthor x Reader

Kara Danvers x Lena Luthor

Andrea Rojas x Reader

Supercorp x Reader

[black-dragon1998]

Hell must be paid

Synopsis: (Y/N) is a ruling crime boss in National City and the alpha of the city's werewolf pack. When her lover Morgana(let’s pretend she is in this multiverse and the twin sister of Lena Luthor, who stayed behind in Ireland) gets hurt, somebody has to pay.

Two sets of headlights illuminated the night sky as they drove in unison to the docks. The first car stopped with screeching tyres making it stop abruptly and rattle forward in front of the pier,. The figure behind the steering wheel stepping out of the car and looked at the scene around her, knowing it was a cliché but a good cliché.

As she approached the trunk of her car, five guys came out of the other vehicle and set up a perimeter. Blending so into the shadows that if she couldn't sense them (Y/N) wouldn't even know they were there. But (Y/N) could tell all her men apart just by smell. That is how she caught the rat.

Before opening the trunk (Y/N) gave her surroundings a once over. She wouldn't want unwanted guests at her party. Opening the trunk, she ignored the body, pretending to be unconscious. Her acute senses could tell the difference, but she would give him his false sense of security. No, first, she had some things to set up. (Y/N) grabbed the chains and heavy weights from next to the man and threw them at the end of the docks. She was letting them fall with a loud clang.

People always said she had a flair for dramatics. It also gave her time to calm down a little and go over what she was going to do to the dead man before he became a dead man.

Thinking back at what the low life in her car had done made her blood boil, and she could not help but think of who it had almost cost her.

When (Y/N) was sure she wasn't going to rip his guy's throat out, she went to pull him out of the car.

Looking down at the man (Y/N), she watched the man who almost took everything from her a couple of hours ago. She waited for him to look her in the eyes.

She knew who the guy was when her men picked him up: James 'Jimmy' Olsen, a former associate of the Kent Clan. What (Y/N) had heard as of late was that he was working for the Danvers sisters.

James finally opened his eyes after (Y/N) glared at him for a few minutes. He was trying not to show his fear, but (Y/N) knew better. She could practically taste his fear.

"Mister Olsen, how nice of you to stop pretending." (Y/N) said in a sweet voice and kind smile, knowing he wouldn't buy it. The smile dropped when he didn't answer.

"I suggest, Mister Olsen, that you don't look a gifted horse in the mouth. To begin with, you are already on thin ice. So don't throw my kindness in my face." (Y/N) half growls as she grabs him by the shirt collar and lifted him out of the trunk like he weighed nothing more than a trash bag. (Y/N) Threw him toward the weight and chains. He comes down while scraping over the ground. Because his hands and feet were bound, he couldn't prepare himself and landed face first, cutting him up just a bit.

Not even a curse. someone had done this before.

(Y/N) hiked over to him, making her footsteps be heard so he knew she was coming closer. She grabbed James roughly by the shoulder and forced him on his back, with her looming over him—eyes just a little too bright in the night and teeth just a little too sharp.

"what do you want from me?" James asked, trying to get away. The hand on his shoulder prevented him from getting very far.

with the poor lighting around them it was like a demon staring down at him, and he had to do everything he could not let his fear show. With the cocky look, James saw on your face, he knew you could tell anyway.

"I think you know what I want from you, Mister Olsen. Seeing as where my men caught you." Patience was not your strong suit; buy you could be when you had to be.

"your men snatched me off the street with no good reason." James started to struggle, trying to get free. He got nowhere, however, except for being slammed back into the ground.

"No, my men picked you up because you smelled like the explosives that set one of my warehouses on fire tonight. A wolf's nose never lies, Mister Olsen. So, who sent you?" He stayed silent and glared at (Y/N), making her furious. Did the little prick even know what he had almost done tonight, who he had nearly cost her?

If he wouldn't talk to save his life, maybe something else could rattle his cage.

"I heard your sister and her wife adopted a little girl recently." That seemed to strike a nerve because he started to fight like an animal. Making (Y/N) smile.

"you bitch. Keep away from my family!"

"I will if you tell me what I want to know…"

A car approaching them pierced the silence. As the vehicle stopped, a chorus of growls could be heard. The person getting out didn't seem to care as they came closer. (Y/N) craned her neck to the side as the mystery person got closer.

"Let him go (Y/N)." Just a little bit of her Irish accent came through, but otherwise, she sounded exactly like Morgana.

"Well, if it isn't the poster child of the Luthor clan herself. Oh, wait, you are nothing more than the breeding bitch of the youngest Danvers now. Here to save the boy toy? (Y/N)' s mouth turned into a loose grin, more teeth than a smile and a mocking tone.

Eyes rooming over Lena's body. Except for the suit and straight hair, she looked exactly like Morgana.

Morgana who was lying unconscious in a hospital bed after a wall collapsed on her. Caused by an explosion ripping through the warehouse, James Olsen had set on fire.

When Lena noticed (Y/N) wasn't budging, she repeated her request, making (Y/N) laugh.

"You knew me, Lena. Mercy isn't in my book." (Y/N) said. Her attention went back to the man under her. She put the chains around the weight before rapping the weights around James, making her intentions very clear.

"if I let him go, what would that do to my reputation?" (Y/N) could feel her rage build the longer Lena was around. Her scent resembled her wounded lover, setting her inner animal on edge.

Lena was smart enough not to get closer. Sensing that (Y/N) was getting more agitated. Slipping from being a brutal bitch to the animal that dwelled inside.

“(Y/N)! whatever you think James has done…"

"You mean setting my warehouse on fire?" It took Lena a little too long for (Y/N) 's liking to come to James's defence.

"so the Danvers sisters set you up for this, Jimmy." (Y/N) says, looking down at James.

Hoisting him up with one arm, she dangled him over the water.

"And here I thought we were getting somewhere in our meetings."

“(Y/N) please! James was ill-informed. He thought your men were responsible for something my brother did."

"the beating of Winn Scott? That's what this is all about." (Y/N) didn't know if she wanted to scream or laugh.

"the warehouse was empty. I checked!" James yelled, his brave demeanour cracking as he dangled in the air over the water.

"you know what is stored next to that warehouse?" Lena noticed (Y/N) 's demeanour growing colder and becoming more dangerous.

"How should I know!" James was getting frantic.

"next to that warehouse, they stored car batteries. When they caught fire, they exploded. Injuring a very important person to me." That sends Lena's mind into overdrive. Only so many people could get this strong reaction out of you. Before anything else could be said, one of (Y/N) 's men emerged from the shadows.

"boss, she is awake." Lena could feel the heaviness of those words. (Y/N) stepped back from the edge and let James fall to the ground without a second thought. She was walking away before he even hit the ground. When she passed Lena, she stopped for just a moment.

"This isn't forgotten. If Morganna doesn't fully recover, I will see this little stunt as an act of war. Also, you can consider our meeting over and get your men out of my territory within the next 2 hours, or I will consider them fair game." With that, (Y/N) got into her car and sped off.

Lena caught her breath momentarily, not knowing she was holding it. She got to James and helped him out of his binds.

"I hope for all our sakes, James, that Morgana isn't that injured; otherwise, we have a war on our hands. Also, you can explain this to Alex when we get back."

[thewitchandtheassassin]

The Moonlight Chronicles (Alex Danvers x Reader)

Summary: A weekend escape away from National City and the DEO leads to an unexpected adventure.

Words: 1684

Warnings: Blood, mentions of violence

A/N: So, this is kind of a series but it will be completely out of order and not really set up to be a set story, per se. It was suppose to be a smut one shot and instead, I created way too much backstory. And here we are.

Taglist: @natasharomanoffswife @natasha-danvers @aaron-despair @username23345 @xjiasx @nowthisisliving27 @higherfurther-romanova @summergeezburr @marvels-writings @onlyafewfindtheway @captain-josslett @hayleyokami @aznblossom @everything201197​   @hayleyokami @b-5by5 @lostandsearching​ @evilcr0ne

-X-

Sipping the rum from her tumbler slowly, Alex’s eyes lingered on the flickering television screen but she couldn’t tell begin to tell someone what she’d seen. Lost in thoughts of danger and regret, she was oblivious to the world outside of her mind.

She’d taken the weekend off, disappearing into the mountains and renting a cabin in hopes of shaking the distress from her soul. Being the director of an organization like the DEO was taking its toll on her but she refused to acknowledge it. She couldn’t let Kara down or let J’onn question if he made the right choice.

It would devastate her.

Taking another drink from the crystal, she nearly dropped it in surprise as something thudded against the side of the cabin – hard. Tossing her glass onto the table beside her, paying it no mind as the amber liquor sloshed onto the wood, she yanked her gun from its holster on her thigh before hurrying out into the moonlit night. Peeking around the side of the cabin, she could just barely make out a slumped shadow leaning against the wall. Even in the shade of darkness, blood was visibly dripping from a gnarled wound in the middle of its chest and for a moment, Alex’s gaze softened.

She inched closer, wincing as a twig snapped beneath the weight of her boot, but the creature didn’t seem to react. Heavy pants filled the air, an occasional whine meeting perked ears, but nothing more.

As the light of the moon drifted over the shadow against her cabin, Alex had to swallow her noise of shock. It was a wolf, but… larger. More humanlike than the wolves she’d seen before. It was standing on its back legs, crimson soaking the fur on its chest, but what caught her by surprise was the recognition in golden eyes. They regarded her with a knowing glance before rolling back into its skull as it fell limply to the ground.

Stepping towards the creature, she watched in astonishment as the fur began to recede back into flesh and the body slowly shrink from its nearly eight foot height into the form of a humanoid woman. The sound of bones reconnecting nearly sent her stomach rushing up through her throat, but she managed to choke it back. The blood spilling from her chest seemed to slow, yet the puddle was still growing around her.

“Of course I couldn’t have a vacation away from weird shit,” Alex grumbled, moving over to the woman and bending down. “At least she’s not a wolf anymore.”

-X-

The first thing you noticed when consciousness dragged you from your dreamless slumber was the ache in the center of your chest that spanned across both sides of your breasts. Whining low under your breath, your human hand reached up to touch the abused flesh, only to touch bandage instead. Eyes snapping open, you forced yourself to remain motionless.

You were staring at a ceiling. A ceiling that was not your own. There was a ceiling where the sky should be.

“What the fuck?” you mumbled, carefully righting yourself and glancing around.

The first thing you noticed was that the couch you were sprawled across was fucking hideous. It clashed with the rustic atmosphere of the cabin. Lip curling, you plucked at a piece of fuzz on the cushion.

“That thing is ugly, right? It’s not just me?” an unfamiliar voice broke you from your thoughts, sending you careening off the couch and onto the floor with a resounding thud. “Jesus, be careful! You just stopped bleeding!”

Gaze hazy with pain as the dull ache roared into searing agony, short dark hair and hazel eyes came into view when the unknown voice stepped around the couch and leaned over you worriedly. She was staring down at you, trepidation and concern warring in those… pretty… eyes…

“Wow,” you whispered, feeling the wolf within tremble and lurch. For a moment, you feared it would escape, but the second gentle hands touched your wrapped chest, it went silent. In that moment, it was simply you and her, trapped in the quiet of such an intimate act (especially between two complete strangers).

“Here, let’s get you back on the couch. I think you reopened those wounds.”

Helping you back onto the cushion you’d violently vacated, practiced fingers unwound the gauze and bandage holding your torso. You could feel the sticky ooze grasping at the cloth, trying to keep its place on your body, but the woman was steady and completely at ease as she tugged it away.

“I’m Alex,” she murmured, studying the leaking claw marks. “What are you? An alien? Metahuman?”

“Werewolf,” you grunted, gritting your incredibly sharp teeth as she touched along the raw edges of the gashes. “Born, not bitten. Been like this my whole life, so I’m not a danger to you. The beast is well under control.”

Alex’s fingers stilled. “I hadn’t thought otherwise, honestly. I thought if you were going to attack me, you already would have.”

Startled by the blind trust, you slowly nodded. “I’m (Y/N).”

It was odd, how easily this woman had accepted your supernatural abilities. Most humans turned tail the second something like you came too close, yet here she was, cleaning your bloody chest like it was an everyday occurrence.

“Why?”

Beautiful irises flickered up to meet yours, a lazy smile upturning Alex’s pretty pink lips. “I’m the director of an organization that monitors extraterrestrial entities and presences on Earth. And before that, I worked as a scientist. I’ve seen and fought far scarier beings than you. When I found you last night, you didn’t lash or try to attack me. And it seemed like you trusted me not to kill you even as you passed out, so I thought I’d do what I could to help. I don’t know what your physiology is like, but I figured basic trauma care would be okay.”

“I heal quickly,” you offered with a chuckle, though your amusement was short-lived. “Or, I usually do. I spent a lot of fucking energy last night trying to escape that…”

Noticing the hesitation, Alex’s brow arched curiously. “Escape what?”

Eyes jerking between hers, you considered your options. She already knew too much, but you couldn’t stop yourself from spilling everything. Anything she asked, you’d tell – and you had no idea why. There was something about her that felt safe and calming, like finding the shore after a shipwreck.

“I am a lone wolf. Kicked out of my pack for refusing to bow to some prick who thought he was the rightful alpha of our pack. And he… found me last night. I escaped but he did a number on me, unfortunately.” Pausing for a moment, you realized how that might’ve sounded and hurriedly continued, “But he shouldn’t come here! I wouldn’t put someone else in danger like that.”

Alex nodded thoughtfully. “Of all the things I expected to find in the middle of nowhere, warring werewolves was not one of them. I thought I’d see deer or foxes or… hell, maybe even an alien. Not that.”

“Most people don’t,” you acknowledged with an uncomfortable snort, looking away as Alex finished cleaning your chest. “…so, director of an alien organization, huh? What’s that like? How does that even happen?”

“My dad and mom are both scientists. They found themselves in employment with some people who worked with the organization and that put me on their list once I went to college and showed an aptitude for some of the more delicate pieces of the job.”

Her shrug was meant to be nonchalant but it seemed forced – a deflection – but you didn’t acknowledge it, grateful for whatever truths she chose to offer.

“Huh, smart and beautiful. A helluva combination.”

Alex’s cheeks grew hot beneath the earnestness of your words, amazed by how sincere you seemed to be. She couldn’t deny it was thrilling to be called beautiful by someone who exuded such confidence and dominant energy.

(And she couldn’t deny that she thought you were stunning. For Rao’s sake, she was only human and you were naked. There was only so much she could do!)

“I’m here for the weekend. Why don’t you stay and heal? We can get to know each other better,” she suggested with a hopeful grin, eyes lowering bashfully as she admitted, “It’s been kind of lonely up here by myself and I wouldn’t mind the company.”

Excitement surged through you as if it were lightning in your veins, grinning at the prospect of spending time with your savior. Tilting your head in acceptance, your grin grew sheepishly apologetic. “I’d like that. I uh… should warn you, though. I might end up eating most of your food? Werewolf metabolism and stuff.”

Patting your bare stomach, trying to ignore the flex of muscle beneath her fingertips, Alex smirked. “That is nothing new for me. I come prepared for things like that.”

Storing that information away for another day, you peered down at the digits absently stroking your abdomen. She didn’t seem to realize she was even doing it, but you could feel the subtle press inward as your muscles flinched and tensed beneath her touch. Dull nails tickled the soft flesh, but you didn’t mind. Her caress was soothing yet invigorating and you wanted nothing more than to trace your own fingers over her slightly tanned skin.

Brow arching, you chuckled as the fingers continued their nonsensical patterns. “Could I get some clothes? Mine were shredded and I don’t think you want me walking around naked for the next couple days.”

Oh, you have no idea.

“Y-yeah, I can do that,” Alex rasped, finally dragging her hand away from its perch. “Give me a second and then I’ll make breakfast.”

Licking your lips, you watched her stagger off the couch and into what you assumed was a bedroom. Maybe this was a stupid idea. Maybe you would only place her into danger, but you were a selfish creature by nature.

The wolf wanted her – and for once, you might just be in agreement.

[superdanverstrio]

Hi again! I am so totally requesting again, I love your work and you make me happy. So Obviously Kara danvers x daughter reader :) And this time Kara catches r and her "boyfriend" Ben out in public kissing or hangout, doing something and Kara now has evidence to prove it to her daughter. But Y/n tries to deny it for a moment before giving in and telling her everything... Please and Thank you Zohra :)

Have a good one!

Right through you Pt.2

A/N: I am so sorry this took my entirely to long to start writing.

“Mom?” You asked, entering your home. “Hey honey, how was your day?” She said, closing her book and leaving it on the coach, she walked toward you to give you a hung. “It was good. Umm, I had a question.” You said, looking up at her. “Shoot.” “Can I go to the mall with some friends tomorrow after school, we would walk?” She looks at you and smirk. “Is Ben coming with you?” You rolled your eyes and shock your head. “No, I told you Ben and I aren't together.” “I never said you were, why are you on the defensive, do you have something to hide, Missy.” She questioned, still not believing you. "Mom come on, can I go?” You asked, trying to change the subject a bit. “Sure, but you need to be back before 7.” “Yes, thank you.”

The next day at the mall

“So, have you told your mom yet?” Ben asked as you walked hand in hand. “No, not yet, but ill do someday.” “Why don't you want to tell her? Are you maybe ashamed of me? It's fine if you are, I'm not mad.” You looked at him and smiled. “Of course I'm not ashamed of you, I would love for my mom to meet you.” You said, giving him a quick kiss on his lips. “It's just that my mom is extremely protective, it's a little intense sometimes. Especially my aunt, oh my god if she meets you, she will interrogate you for at least 3h hours.” He laughs and shock his hand in disbelief. “I'm sure, it's not that bad.” “It is, it really is, but ill tell her eventually.”

You guys continued to walk around the mall and visits some stores for a few hours. When you got back home, you say Kara waiting for you on the couch. “So, how was your activity with Ben.” She said with a smirk. “Are you ever going to give up, I'm not with Ben.” "Yeah, right." She said and got up from the couch and she showed you her phone, there was a picture of you and Ben on a bench, you had your head on his shoulder. You were stunned for a second.

How did she get that picture? “How did you get that. Did you follow me there?” “I actually didn't, but I have spies working for me. But don't change the subject, do you have something to say to me.” “No because this picture doesn't prove anything, we're just good friends.” Your mom smiled again, you swipe to the next image, this time you were kissing on that same bench. “Yeah, excellent friends.” You were about to defense yourself again but decided against it, you sight. “Fine, we're together, we have been together for like a month now.” “I knew it, why didn't you want to tell me?” You looked at her and chuckled. “You really don't have an idea?” she shook her head. “You are intense when it comes to people I see.” “No, I am not.” You raised an eyebrow. “Remember Kyle? You and Alex interrogate him for like 10 minutes.” “We just wanted to make sure he was good for you, I want nothing but the best for you.” She said, hugging you.”

“I know mom.” You said, hugging her back. “But you're going to have to tone it down because he really wants to come over this weekend and I don't want you to freak him out.” “Oh he's coming over great ok. And yes, I will try to tone it down.” She said, “thank you.”

Honestly you should've known she'd never tone it down, in fact she didn't try to.

[literary-lesbo]

𝘎𝘦𝘯𝘦𝘳𝘢𝘭 𝘎𝘶𝘪𝘥𝘦𝘭𝘪𝘯𝘦𝘴

PLEASE READ: while I will do my best to respond to every prompt it may take me a while to get to them. with this I'd also like to say that I reserve the right to delete any request I don't feel comfortable writing.

Please specify if you'd prefer female or gender neutral pronouns for reader inserts, if not I'll likely go with female

𝘞𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘐 𝘸𝘪𝘭𝘭 𝘸𝘳𝘪𝘵𝘦

♡ Hurt/Comfort - I love hurt comfort, heavy on the comfort and will gladly write it

♡ Angst - I'm happy to write angst with or without a happy ending but I ask that you specify which so I know how dark to go!

♡ Fluff - one of my favorite things to write

♡ Sickfics - I love them just as much as hurt/comfort

𝘞𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘐 𝘸𝘰𝘯'𝘵 𝘸𝘳𝘪𝘵𝘦

♡ Male Reader or x Male Character - I'm far to gay for that

♡ Smut - at some point I may be comfortable writing it but that point is not now

♡ R@pe or S/A - no.

𝘞𝘩𝘰 𝘐'𝘮 𝘞𝘳𝘪𝘵𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘍𝘰𝘳

Criminal Minds

Jennifer Jareau

Emily Prentiss

Jemily

Station 19

Maya Bishop

Carina DeLuca

Marina

Marvel

Natasha Romanoff

Wanda Maximoff

WandaNat

Supergirl:

Kara Danvers

Lena Luthor

Supercorp

Alex Danvers

[ao3feed-arcane]

sapphic sickfics collection

by trulysapphic A collection of my reader insert fics. Currently including Alex (Supergirl) and Caitlyn (Arcane), possibly will add other characters in the future. Fem!reader All sickfics, all fluffy! Cross posted from tumblr. Words: 2903, Chapters: 2/?, Language: English Fandoms: Arcane: League of Legends (Cartoon 2021), Supergirl (TV 2015) Rating: General Audiences Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Categories: F/F Characters: Alex Danvers, Caitlyn (League of Legends), Reader, Original Female Character(s) Relationships: Alex Danvers/Reader, Caitlyn (League of Legends)/Reader Additional Tags: Reader-Insert, fem!reader - Freeform, Sickfic, Sick Character, Caretaking, Hurt/Comfort, Fluff, Common Cold, Protective Alex Danvers, Soft Alex Danvers, Soft Caitlyn (League of Legends), Pet Names read it on AO3 at https://ift.tt/KwzQSWh

[ao3feed-wandamaximoff]

Encanto Reader Insert Oneshots/Short Stories

by GoldenRetrievers4Life I suck at summaries, but I'll try. Reader, sometimes male or female, is either from Encanto, is a demigod sent for protection, witch/wizard looking for relaxation, innocent vampire on the run from the Volturi, or a retired hero from either the marvel universe or DC universe. He or she is paired with the madrigal except Alma, for it make me uncomfortable for that old of a person, or Antonio, for he is a child even if I age him up.   Please enjoy, and leave suggestions! Words: 662, Chapters: 3/?, Language: English Fandoms: Encanto (2021), Percy Jackson and the Olympians - Rick Riordan, Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling, Twilight Series - Stephenie Meyer, Marvel, DCU Rating: Mature Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Categories: F/F, F/M, M/M Characters: "Abuela" Alma Madrigal, Antonio Madrigal, Percy Jackson, Annabeth Chase (Percy Jackson), Nico di Angelo, Grover Underwood, Thalia Grace (Percy Jackson), Edward Cullen, Alice Cullen, Rosalie Hale, Emmett Cullen, Harry Potter, Hermione Granger, Ron Weasley, Tony Stark, Natasha Romanov (Marvel), Wanda Maximoff, Clint Barton, Kara Danvers, Alex Danvers, Clark Kent, Pedro Madrigal Relationships: Isabela Madrigal/Reader, Luisa Madrigal/Reader, Mirabel Madrigal/Reader, Camilo Madrigal/Reader, Pepa Madrigal/Reader, Julieta Madrigal/Reader, Félix Madrigal/Pepa Madrigal/Reader, Agustín Madrigal/Julieta Madrigal/Reader, Bruno Madrigal/Reader Additional Tags: Romance, Action/Adventure, Explicit Sexual Content, Sexual Tension, Demigod Reader (Percy Jackson), Pedro Madrigal Lives, Pedro Madrigal Dies via https://ift.tt/MTmrpYR

[finrelia]

Warm

Request: Yes! From @yanginthere​ (Request is too long to have in header)

Summary: You get a mild case of hypothermia working at noonans one winter day and Alex comes home to find you in bad shape. She comforts you, and a little bit of hurt/comfort occurs.

Warnings: Mentions of illness/hypothermia. Self doubt, depressing themes. Cursing. Hurt/comfort slightly.

Word Count: 1,709

A/N: I’m not as happy with this one as I wanted to be! But I rewrote it about three times before it was good enough to post! I hope this is alright! 

“Off to work already, Y/N?”

“You know me!” You say with a light laugh as you place a quick but loving kiss on your girlfriend’s cheek.

“Oh no you don’t” Alex says, as she wraps her arms around your waist, pulling you into a close hug. You smile sweetly and soak in the hug as much as you can. You look up into her eyes, and grin widely before grabbing your car keys off of their hook by the apartment door.

“You’ve been working an awful lot lately.” She says from behind you.

“You know how noonan’s gets around the holidays… Especially with Kara as out number one customer. But hey! It’s not like I’m out saving the world or anything!!!”

“Hey… Saving the world or not, It’s still cold outside, and I know the kitchen heater broke last week. Just- be careful for me, alright?” Alex responds, her tone more serious than you expected.

“I’ll be safe if you will, Agent Danvers.”

With one final firm kiss you say goodbye to your loving girlfriend and make your way out the door to head to work.

The second you left your apartment building, the shocking cold air slammed into you with a forceful gust of wind. You pulled on your coat, and wrapped your arms around your sides, sprinting on your tiptoes to your car. You pull hard against the wind to slam the door to your car as you sit down on the chilled leather. Your car sputters slightly before finally starting, the cold weather making it difficult to get going. It seems like it takes ages to heat up, but eventually you start to drive towards noonans. It’s only about a seven minute drive, and you take your usual parking spot on the street next to the staff entrance.

You wave hello to your manager and immediately get to work. It seems pretty okay at first, but the cold of the kitchen starts to get to you a bit, with your nose beginning to run, growing numb, and your fingers get sore. To make matters worse, it was an incredibly busy day, and you simply didn’t have time to take a break, fulfilling constant orders. It wasn't long before you developed a pretty nasty headache, and your coat simply wasn't warm enough for you.

Six hours later and your shift was finally coming to a close, thankfully. It was the middle of the afternoon, but it was so incredibly overcast it seemed like it was dusk. The cold outside was somehow worse than inside, and you said goodbye to your coworkers before beginning the walk to your car. You could barely walk in a straight line, the pounding from your head making it feel like you were about to be sick. You placed your hand against your left temple in a protective motion, stumbling as you walked. In the time you were working, it had begun to rain, which is NOT what you wanted to hear, seeing as your rickety old car tends to refuse to start when it gets frozen over.

Sure enough, the second you turn your key in the ignition, your heart sinks. You are met with a rattle, a grind, a rattle again, and then nothing. Sighing loudly, you put your head in your freezing cold hands, your fingers numb to the touch. You tried all day to keep your stress in, but things just keep getting worse. You sit there, and erupt into tears. You end up crying in your car alone for upwards of ten minutes, before deciding to check your phone, contemplating calling Alex. Shit… she’s on a mission with Kara today… You felt like your day was getting away from you, forgetting even the most recent conversations you had. You shake your head and decide to set off on foot to head home, hopeful to make it relatively quickly, despite the rain. You were just looking forward to curling up in a warm bed with Alex.

Low and behold, it starts to not snow, not rain, but SLEET as you get about four minutes into your thirty minute walk home. You bow your head and clench your jaw, walking quicker, willing yourself to make it. Your clothes dampen up pretty quickly, the cold of the water seeping into your skin, coating you uncomfortably. The sound of the rain on the streets intermingling with the honking of cars, falls on deaf ears, as you begin to experience some kind of cloud over your consciousness. Barely able to walk straight, you begin to walk at a slant, slamming your shoulder into a corner store brick wall, but this barely elicits a whimper out of you, almost entirely unable to process what is happening.

You must’ve walked through four red lights, and you’re lucky you weren't hit by a car, but you finally made it home. Mostly frozen water drips off of your pants and pools into your boots as your shaky hands fumble through your pockets to find your house key. Eventually you manage to unlock the door, but you are shaking so profusely that you are barely able to even turn the knob.

You figured you should probably get out of your wet clothes, but you were so tired… you just didn't have the energy to slip off your jacket. Actually, you didn't even have the energy to make it to your room. You place your hands on the kitchen counter and sway slightly, shaking your head trying to snap out of your freezing daze. The breath leaves your chest and the world goes dark around you as you collapse onto the tile floor.

“Y/N?” Keys jingle together as Alex walks inside, a tired smile on her face, relieved to finally be home to see you.

“Baby? Are you home?” She calls out, bummed at the thought that you might’ve gone out to get food without her.

She rounds the corner to walk into the kitchen, and her coat falls out of her arms as she sees your sopping wet form completely motionless on the floor. She rushes over to you, sitting on her knees, and takes your head in her hands, brushing your hair out of your face.

“Y/N?!” She says, panic clear in her voice. You murmur slightly in response, barely coherent.

“Oh my god you’re freezing cold.” She feels your cheek with the back of her hand. “Let’s get these wet rags off of you.” She scoops you up into her arms and carries you to the bathroom, slowly beginning to peel layer after layer of clothing off of your limp body. Your eyes flutter open and closed, occasionally letting out a slurred comment or two.She shushes you and cups your face in her hand.

Your eyes open slowly and you take in your surroundings, confused. You had no idea how you got home, or how you ended up wrapped in your favorite blanket with a warm cup of tea in your lap, but what you did know is that you were with Alex, and that she was taking care of you. You found yourself cozied up in bed, with your favorite show put on, and Alex holding you in her arms. She feels you slowly coming to, and rubs your arm saying: “Hey… how’re you feeling?”

“I- I’m okay I think…” You say, confused. “What happened?” “I was going to ask you the same thing.”

“The last thing I remember is my car breaking down outside of work, and then this.”

“Your car broke down?” Alex says, sitting up to get a better look at you..

“Yeah I-” “Why didn't you call? You walked home in the rain, you could've died!” Alex sounded frustrated, but there was no anger in her voice, just concern.

“I didn’t want to bother you… you and Kara were out there doing heroic things and actually making a difference in society, I was just working in a stupid kitchen without a heater.” Your voice cracks slightly as you speak.

“Still no heater? I’m going to have some choice words with your manager…” Alex says more to herself than to you. “You could’ve called, baby. It doesn't matter what I’m doing, your safety is far more important to me.” She turns your chin up to hers so that you are staring directly into each other's eyes. You pull away gently, looking to your feet. Causing a small frown to show on Alex’s face.

“I don't like bothering you. I dont matter half as much as you do anyways, I mean, why would someone like you take the time to help me? I’m not even out of college yet, and I can't handle myself. You’d think a soon to be ER doctor could self diagnose hypothermia, but apparently not. I’m too busy bein-” You hadn't even noticed yourself derailing until you were already sobbing.

“Hey hey hey, it’s okay.” Alex says as she pulls you closer, wrapping her arms around you. You cry silently into her arms as she begins to think about everything you just said. You sit there together, shaking and sniffling until she finally pulls away and positions herself directly in front of you. She puts your face in her hands and locks eyes with you.

“You, Y/N, are far from the burden that you think you are. You are so incredibly important to me and to others. Never, NEVER think less of yourself. Especially in a situation where you could have gotten hurt. You can always call me, no matter what. Supergirl can handle herself. I love that you are strong. I love that you are hard working, despite those terrible conditions. I love that you put others first. I love that you care. I love YOU so incredibly much-” She stops, realizing that she just said that she loved you for the first time since you had started dating.

“Alex…” You respond slowly.

“Hey it’s okay. You don’t need to respond. I just want you to know that you matter to me.” She pulls you closer.

“I love you too” You mumble, cuddling up against her chest and closing your eyes. You were so comfortable in that moment. You were finally so… warm.

[supercorpkid]

Obsessed

Supergirl. Kara Danvers x Reader. Mon-El. Alex Danvers.

Word Count: 4k

Notes: Please don't read this if you like Mon-El, he will not come out pretty of this one.

You aren't supposed to notice things like that.

Not the way Kara’s face shifts so easily — from sweet, clumsy Kara Danvers, with her glasses slipping down her nose, to something harder, sharper, devastatingly sexy. It’s kind of surprising, honestly. And it is impossible to choose which version you like most. In the end, you have to come to terms with loving every expression so dearly it’s almost pathetic. Her face is your favorite thing in the world, no matter what it’s doing.

Surely you’ve realized you're in love with Kara Danvers by now. But you hadn’t really noticed how obsessed you'd become. How your every thought now orbits her, each one a satellite pulled by her gravity, a dizzying constellation of Kara Danvers, Kara Zor-El and Supergirl.

Like right now, the way she is laughing, loud and easy. Lighting up the whole world with just one sound. And the sparkle in her blue eyes —that unnamable something that could make the whole world stop and stare— gets even sharper.

It shouldn't, it really shouldn't, but it just makes you fall harder.

Your fingers twitch against your jeans, a restless, useless thing. You tell yourself to look away, to focus on anything else. You don’t. You can't.

Kara's gaze skims across the room and lands on you.

You can tell the exact second she catches you staring. Something in her face trips, falters. The laughter cuts off mid-breath. For a second, her whole body stills, like she’s bracing for impact. Then she smiles. A shy, almost secret kind of smile that’s just for you.

And you’re done for.

Kara drifts toward you, slow and hesitant, like she isn't sure if she's allowed even though she is in her own apartment. You don't move. You couldn't, even if you wanted to.

She stops a little too close. Not touching you —only orbiting— but you can feel the gravity of her skin anyway, buzzing under the thin space between you.

"Hey you." she says, trying to sound casual and failing miserably.

You swallow hard. "Hey."

She fidgets with the hem of her sweater, tugging at the loose threads. Her knuckles brush yours— once, twice, just light enough that you could pretend it was an accident. If you were the kind of person who could still pretend about Kara Danvers.

You are not.

She’s close enough now that you can see the way her pupils blow wide when she looks at you. Like you mean something. Something big. Like you're a whole planet, not just some tiny moon caught in her orbit.

But then his voice rings out. Loud, performative, like he’s the life of the party. Like Mon-El actually thinks he’s the reason everyone’s here. You let go of the breath you’d been holding, bitterly aware of the truth:

Kara isn’t yours. She’s almost yours. All but yours. Which, of course, is the same as not at all.

Mon-El’s catches you staring more than once. Every time, he makes a show of it: throwing an arm around Kara’s waist, pulling her in for kisses that last just a second too long, ending his dumb little anecdotes with, "Right, babe?" Like a damn punctuation mark.

You’re sure you’ve never heard him call her that before. It sounds fake in his mouth. If Kara thinks it’s weird, she doesn’t show it. But you’re not the only one shifting uncomfortably every time he gets a little too handsy.

The worst part is, Kara just keeps smiling. She laughs, loud, like she’s trying to make up for something. Everyone glances at her, confused, as if to say, why the hell is she acting like that? But no one dares to say anything.

You’re about three hours into game night when it starts to become unbearable. After an especially obnoxious kiss —the kind that makes the room go quiet for a beat too long and stare at walls so no one is looking directly at such a private moment— you’ve had enough. You slip out the room, trying to steady your breath, footsteps echoing down the hall.

You don’t make it far.

A hand catches your arm. You spin around, reflex sharp, but it’s just Mon-El. Too close. Smiling like this is all just a game and he already knows he’s won.

"You know," he says, all faux-casual, "for someone who’s just Kara's friend, you sure look like you’re ready to throw yourself into traffic for her."

Your heart kicks up in your chest. But your mouth? Your mouth moves before you can think better of it.

"What?" you bite out. "If you wouldn’t throw yourself into traffic for Kara, you’re the one who’s wrong here. Because everyone else would."

He only laughs, strangled and fake, and lets go of your arm like you're not even worth holding onto. "You're not even trying to hide it anymore, huh?" he says, his eyes gleaming, mean and bright. "The way you stare at her. Like a damn kicked puppy. How many times will I have to tell you to fuck off?"

You open your mouth, you don't even know what to say, but he cuts you off with a lazy shrug.

"Doesn't matter anyway," Mon-El says. "She's with me. And it's almost funny you'd think she'd leave me to be with..." He trails off, his gaze raking over you, slow and contemptuous. "You."

You feel it like a slap. Like a punch to the gut you didn't see coming.

He smiles at the way you flinch. A little too satisfied.

And then he’s gone. Just turns and walks back down the hall like he didn’t just light a stick of dynamite inside your chest and leave you bleeding in the blast.

You stay frozen in place, staring down at the carpet like it might tell you how to feel. Like it might help you piece yourself back together. Your breaths come too fast, too shallow. You try not to believe him. Try not to crumble.

But the words burrow in anyway. They sink deep, like rot. Because he’s right. God, he’s right. Kara is in love. She’s happy. Her laugh echoes through the hall, bright and full of life — and it settles inside your hollowed-out chest.

You drag a shaky hand over your face, trying to wipe it all away. The tears, the want, the grief. Breathe in once. Then again. You can’t fall apart here. Not where she could see.

The voices grow louder as you get closer to the room. Kara’s laughter bubbling over again. Alex’s voice cutting dry through the noise like it always does. You school your face into something blank. Something safe. And you walk back in.

No one notices you right away. You’re grateful for that.

No one but Kara — Kara always notices you.

Her eyes find you almost instantly, that warm, dazzling smile breaking over her face. She reaches for you without thinking, fingertips brushing your arm in a soft, unconscious gesture she’s done a thousand times before.

This time, it feels like being struck by lightning. You flinch back like she burned you.

Her hand hovers in the air for a second, confusion knitting her brows, her mouth parting slightly like she might say something, but she doesn't even get the chance because in a second, Mon-El is there. 

You don't know when he moved. But he is already sliding into her space, wrapping his arms possessively around her waist, dragging her back against his chest like she's a prize he's showing off. You see the way Kara stiffens for a second. You see the flicker of discomfort flash across her face before she smooths it over.

Your throat closes up so fast you nearly choke. You can’t breathe. You can't do this. You can't survive this.

"I gotta go," you mutter, voice cracking humiliatingly at the edges. Nobody hears you except Kara, who twists in Mon-El’s hold, reaching for you again.

"Wait, are you okay?"

You can't even answer. You just shake your head and bolt.

You don't look back. You can't. If you do, you know you'll shatter your heart into a thousand tiny pieces. Because Mon-El is right. And you don’t know how to live with that.

You manage to hold it together long enough to get home. Your fingers are shaking as you fumble with the key, and by the time the door swings open, your eyes are already blurring. You step inside, chest heaving, and—

"Hey!" Kara’s voice.

Your first reaction is to slam the door shut. Right at her face.

There’s a knock. Soft. Almost scared. You freeze.

"Y/N," Kara says from the other side, voice gentle, frightened. "Can you—can you please open the door? Just for a second?"

You press your back against it, hand still gripping the knob, and squeeze your eyes shut until it hurts.

"I don’t—" Your voice splinters. You try again. "I don’t want to talk right now."

"Are you okay? You ran out of there so fast." And god, the way she says it, her voice full of worry, full of care—it’s too much.

You want to scream. You want to sob. You want to throw the door open and confess everything, all at once. 

Instead, you whisper, "Just go, Kara."

She hesitates. You hear the shift of her weight, the creak of the floorboard just outside your door. “I don’t understand…”

“I said go.”

Silence. A breath held too long. Then, a step. A small one. Careful. Her palm lands flat against the other side of the wood, like she’s trying to reach you through it. Like maybe if she presses hard enough, you’ll feel her there. Holding you up. Holding you together. Like she thinks standing close might be enough to fix something.

“Kara,” you whisper. Her name catches in your throat the second time. More fragile. More ruined. “Just go. Please.”

You hear her breathe in, soft and hurt, and then finally, her footsteps retreat.

You wait until you’re sure she’s gone.

And then you collapse.

You slide down the door with your arms wrapped tight around yourself, shaking like a leaf. The sob rips out of you before you can stop it, harsh and ugly and raw. You press your hand over your mouth like that’ll muffle the sound, like that’ll keep the pain from leaking through the walls and chasing her down the hall.

You cry until your throat aches. Until your knees go numb. Until there’s nothing left in you but Kara’s name and the echo of her hand on the other side of the door.

By morning, your eyes are swollen, your body heavy, your heart scraped raw. You're glad it's the weekend, but you know you can't run away forever. But your life is built so carefully around Kara that when the week rolls over, there’s no way you can hide anymore.

The DEO is colder than usual. Or maybe it’s just you.

You're walking fast, trying to keep your head down, shoulders tense, every part of you screaming to disappear — when you feel it. A hand on your wrist. You flinch hard.

Mon-El.

He drags you into a quiet corridor, out of view, voice low and bitter. "You seriously can’t do one thing right, can you?"

You freeze. He’s too close. He smells like smugness and space cologne and too many second chances. His eyes flick down to your face like you’re pathetic for flinching. "You’re falling apart so fast, everyone’s noticing. Kara’s noticing."

You look away, jaw tight.

He steps closer. "Now she won’t shut up about you, ‘Is she okay? Did I do something? Should I check on her?” He huffs a bitter little laugh. "The entire weekend.” He rolls his eyes. “It’s somehow worse than before."

Your voice is hoarse when it finally comes out. "What do you want me to do, Mon-El?"

He doesn’t answer, so you keep going, each word cracking more than the last. "I already shut the door on her face. I—I’m doing everything I can to disappear." You’re shaking. Your voice breaks entirely. "What else do you want me to do? Fucking die?"

The silence that follows is deafening. And then—

He shrugs. "Honestly? Yeah. I kinda do."

You blink once. Twice. The air is gone from your lungs. The walls close in around you. You take one step back like the words physically hit you.

But you don’t cry. Not in front of him.

You barely register when Alex’s voice cuts through the hallway like a blade. "What the hell did you just say?"

You both turn. She’s standing there, jaw clenched, eyes blazing. She’s heard enough from him. And she looks like she’s about to kill him.

Alex doesn’t wait. She marches straight up to Mon-El, shoving him back with both hands, hard enough that he stumbles against the wall.

"What the hell is wrong with you?"

Mon-El scoffs, adjusting his jacket, trying to look cool. “Alex, this doesn’t concern—”

"You don’t get to talk to her like that," she snaps, voice rising. "You don’t get to say that. Not to anyone, but especially not to her."

You’re frozen in place. Completely still.

Alex’s eyes flick to you—just for a second. But it’s enough. She sees it. The glassy sheen in your eyes. The way your hands are shaking. The way you’re holding your breath like that’ll keep you from falling apart right here in the damn hallway.

She turns back to Mon-El. "You wanna pick on someone? Pick on me, you coward." Mon-El opens his mouth like he’s gonna say something smug, but Alex’s look cuts him off clean. “You wouldn't, would you? You know Kara would dump your pretentious ass the next second.”

Without another word, she grabs your hand. “Come on, Y/N.”

You don’t even have the strength to resist. You let her pull you down the hall, around a corner, into a quiet DEO office that smells faintly like paper and gun oil. The door clicks shut behind you, and—

You break. You’re on your knees before you even know what’s happening. Your sobs come out in ugly, heaving waves, your arms wrapped around yourself like you’re trying to keep the shame from spilling out.

Alex drops to the floor beside you and pulls you into her arms like she’s done it a thousand times before. She doesn’t say anything at first. Just holds you while you fall apart.

When your crying slows to hiccuped gasps, she finally whispers, “How long?”

You can’t even look at her. You just shake your head against her shoulder.

“Since they got together?”

You nod. Just once. Barely.

“God,” she breathes out. “You’ve been carrying this alone.”

You finally croak out, “I shut the door in her face. I—I did that.”

Alex runs a hand down your back, calming and steady. “You were protecting yourself.”

You’re quiet for a long time. And then, voice barely audible, “She doesn’t love me back.”

Alex pulls back just enough to look you in the eyes. And for once, she doesn’t try to fix it. Doesn’t say ‘you don’t know that,’ or ‘give it time,’ or even ‘she’ll come around.’

She just holds your hand and says, “I’m so sorry, kid.”

She leans back against the wall and drapes an arm across your shoulder, warm and grounding. You lean into it, bone-tired. A quiet moment passes.

“Y/N, I know what your answer is going to be, but…” Alex turns your face to her. “What Mon-El said to you, that was messed up. He is a piece of shit. Kara needs to know.”

She’s barely finished speaking when you’re already begging— “No. Alex, no. Please. I can't. I can't be the reason Kara is not happy, I can't be the one to break her heart. Please.” 

Alex’s jaw clenches. You can see it—can feel the fury still coiled in her spine like a spring waiting to snap. But she doesn’t push. She just watches you, eyes dark with something that feels like grief on your behalf.

Alex exhales slowly, then nods. “Okay,” she says. “Okay. I won’t say anything. Not unless you want me to.”

Relief hits you like a wave, but it’s hollow relief. It doesn’t change anything. You’re still in love with someone who doesn’t love you back. Who’s holding someone else’s hand. Kissing someone else’s lips. Laughing at someone else’s jokes.

You sink back against the wall, eyes blurry again. “Do you think it’ll ever stop hurting?”

Alex is quiet a long moment. Then she says, “Yeah. But not today.”

And somehow, that’s the kindest thing anyone’s ever said to you.

The knock is soft.

So soft you almost don’t hear it over the hum of your too-loud thoughts. For a second, you consider pretending you’re not home. Just staying quiet. Letting the knock go unanswered.

But it comes again. Firmer now. And a little voice inside your head begs you to open it, almost like it knows who’s standing behind it.

When you open the door, she’s there. In jeans and a turtleneck—fuck, she looks good— with two paper bags in her hands and that impossibly hopeful look on her face. Like she’s half-expecting you to slam the door again but praying you won’t.

“I bought potstickers,” Kara says softly. “And donuts. I didn’t know which one you’d need more.”

You stare at her. Not just her face—her eyes, her stance, the way her fingers tighten slightly around the bags. She’s nervous. Just as scared of this as you are.

“No one knows I’m here,” she adds, quieter now. “I wanted you all to myself.”

That gets you. Cracks something open inside your chest, even as your heart thunders in protest. You step aside because Mon-El can't hurt you if he doesn't know.

The door closes behind you, and suddenly the apartment feels too small. She sets the food down and turns to face you, offering the softest smile. One she never gives to anyone else.

“I don’t know what happened the other day,” she says, stepping closer, “or why you’re pushing me away ever since…”

Your mouth opens automatically. To lie. To deflect. But she cuts you off, voice barely above a whisper.

“I just know I can’t live without you.”

You freeze. Every bone in your body begs you to take a step back and say something flippant. But your breath catches, and your eyes sting, and you can’t seem to move.

Because this is everything. Everything you wanted to hear—and everything you shouldn’t be hearing right now.

“So maybe you could stop running away from me and just… I don’t know. Tell me what the hell Mon-El did.”

“What?” It rips out of you, breathless.

She exhales. “I’m not stupid, Y/N. That day—he was showing off too much. Everyone felt it. Especially me. And you. And I thought... there had to be a reason for it.” Her gaze drops to the floor. When she looks up again, her eyes are full of tears. “Is there?”

You can’t answer. You want to. You want to give her everything—fall into her arms and let her sort through the wreckage—but your throat’s closing, your chest tightening around something jagged. You’ve held it in so long, you're scared if you let it go, you’ll fall apart.

“Kara,” you manage. It comes out wrecked.

Her tears are right there, waiting. But she doesn’t cry yet. She just takes a tentative step forward, hands open, like she’s approaching something scared. Like you’re a whole planet and not a tiny little moon.

“I don’t know what he said,” she whispers, voice trembling, “but I felt what it did to you. I’ve been feeling it. You haven’t looked at me since.” She reaches up, cupping your face. “Please don’t lie to me. Not about this.”

You close your eyes. But the tears still come.

“We’ve been friends for so long, Y/N. Way before Mon-El even landed on Earth.” Her hand stays on your face. Gentle. Steady. “Please tell me.”

“Kara, it’s nothing. He just told me the truth.”

“No.” Her voice breaks—fierce and soft all at once. “I don’t believe you. You won’t look at me. Alex is literally grinding her teeth every time his name comes up. Why are you all keeping me in the dark about him?” She swallows hard. “I know he said something bad. And I don’t think it was the truth.”

“He said I’m obsessed with you.”

Kara frowns. “What? No, you’re not.”

“I am.”

It leaves your mouth so quietly it could be a breath. But once it’s out, it detonates in your chest—and suddenly you can’t hold back anymore.

“I am. God, Kara. Don’t tell me you haven’t noticed. I—I've looked at your face for so long it’s basically burned into my retina.”

You roll your eyes at yourself, bitter and embarrassed. “Whatever. Look, he’s right. I’m obsessively in love with you. But you’re his. And you’re never going to leave him for me. So, I don’t know. Maybe he was right about everything. Maybe I should just die—like he told me to.”

The silence that follows isn’t quiet. It’s violent. Like the whole room is holding its breath. Like the floor might crack.

And then Kara moves.

She’s past you and at the door before you can even register the blur of it, rage flashing across her face like lightning—pure and terrifying.

“No. Please—”

She stops just barely in time. Spins back to you. Her eyes are glowing—with heat vision and fury.

“You don’t get to protect him right now,” she says with greeted teeth. “You don’t get to ask me to stand down when someone tells you to die.”

“I’m not protecting him,” you say, your voice breaking. “I’m protecting you. I don’t want to be the reason your relationship falls apart.”

Kara blinks. Like she doesn’t even recognize the words coming out of your mouth.

“My relati—” Her voice cuts off. “You think I want to be with someone who hurts the person I love?”

That word. Love. It hits you like a punch to the sternum. Your lips part. No sound comes out.

Kara steps toward you again, slower this time. Her face softens as the quiet stretches between you. The word—love—still vibrates in your ribs like it hasn’t finished landing.

She looks at you like you’re her home planet—the place she was always meant to return to—and the pull of your atmosphere is finally too strong to resist.

“You think I haven’t noticed? I’ve seen you studying my face, because I’ve been memorizing yours. Haven’t you noticed how when you laugh, my whole body turns toward it like I don’t even have a choice?”

You try to look away, but she won’t let you. Gently, she cradles your face in her hands, thumbs resting just beneath your cheekbones, warm against your damp skin.

“Don’t you get it?” she says. “I’m not his. I’m yours. I’ve always been yours.”

Your chest caves in on itself, and a sob breaks loose before you can stop it.

You reach up, hands trembling, cupping her face to mirror her touch. Her breath ghosts over your lips, gaze locked on yours, full of a tenderness that steals what little breath you have left.

“Kara,” you whisper, her name a prayer on your tongue.

Her eyes flutter closed. She leans in. The kiss is feather-light at first—then deepens, a silent promise of everything you’ve both held back for far too long.

“Wait, wait.” You can’t believe you’re the one pulling away. “You have to break up with him.”

“Sure,” she says, smiling. “Right after I break all of his bones.”

You huff out a sound—half-sob, half-startled laugh—against her shoulder. It rattles through your whole body, sharp and unsteady.

“Kara.”

“I’m serious,” she mutters, cheek pressed to your hair. “I’ll do it nicely. Symbolic bone-snapping. One for every shitty thing he said to you.”

You pull back just enough to meet her eyes, your fingers still curled in the fabric of her jacket.

“That’s not how breakups work.”

“I’m an alien,” she says solemnly. “Maybe it is.”

You laugh so hard you can hardly believe you were crying minutes ago.

And Kara’s face lights up—she’s smiling at you in that way again. That smile. The one meant only for you. The one that makes your bones ache and your heart skip like it’s trying to keep up.

A new energy sparks in your chest—relief and protectiveness mixing into something almost brave.

“Okay,” you say, pulling back with quiet determination. “Let’s go break up with your boyfriend.”

Kara’s grin widens. “Lead the way.”

[oneshotnewbie]

A sequel to type one diabetes where bd is stressed out because Kara got hurt as supergirl. So even though bd is taking her insulin she goes into DKA? Kara is fine when BD falls really ILL like already recovered?

...

"What do you mean Kara is hurt?" you stammered in shock as you looked up from the glass tubes on the holder, ripping the googles off your eyes and meeting the stare and steady gaze of Winn, who was waiting in the doorway. "Just come with me, quick."

You circled the table, stripping off your white coat, which fell untidily to one side on the iron chair before the brown-haired computer nerd grabbed your hand and awkwardly pulled you along.

At the glass front of the medical station in the DEO, he released you and you stared at the many people who gathered around your sister. A little look through the hectic moving bodies you recognized, that Supergirl´s face was bloodied. Some bruises were already forming under her eye and on her chin, blood ran from her nose over her lips and she lay lifeless on the lounger.

"Why is she not healing?" you stuttered. Your mouth wide open in shock, you crossed your arms over your waist and hugged yourself for comfort. Anxious, you watched Alex taking care of the middle sibling, worrying as you realized that Kara was not waking up.

Winn looked up, trying to get a feel for how bad the situation was, hoping Alex would soon come out and tell them something. Anything. But as you continued to watch her and the flickering screen of the blondes vitals, reality filled with an uneasy fear. Her blood pressure dropped steadily, her heartbeat increasing. "Winn, why is she not healing?!"

"Her powers failed mid-fight with Reign,"

Every little movement after this sentence shocked your body, threw you off balance and at the same time you had to suppress the enormous feeling of wanting to throw up with all your concentration. You could not even walk straight properly, everything blurred before your eyes.

Normally, you would immediately run into the room and fight for Kara´s life alongside your sister but today, that was not the case. You just had to get out of here. Away from the situation.

A week had passed as Kara struggled back into the present. Alex had performed wonders with her strong knowledge of medicine and the help of the sunlamps so that the young blonde had regained her superpowers a few days ago and was beaming with joy as she resumed her duties as Supergirl.

You, on the other hand, felt worse with every day that passed after your sister´s near-death experience. Fatigue and lack of energy have plagued you since the incident, but you tried to put it down as the stress you had acquired from not knowing about Kara´s future condition.

Winn watched you with concern. Something was wrong with you, very wrong. Normally, you were a bright, invigorated and vibrant woman but there was no sign of her at the moment. Beads of sweat were visible on your forehead and the enormous trembling of your hands could be seen on the handle, that encircled the tongs.

You were not the same. You were confused, weak and looked ill and battered with your sallow complexion. "Hey, you okay?" you looked up at him from your work, not even noticing that he had even entered the room you were standing in and nodded as an answer to his question.

Of course you dismissed his concerns but as the day dragged on, the computer programmer´s worries grew.

After you finished the work in the lab and stood at the center console of the DEO´s, he saw you in uniform for the first time. Your pants seemed to be looser and your belt had a new self-inflicted hole that was almost completely ripped through, like you did cut it with a broad-bladed knife.

The compositions of your weight loss did not match your eating habits at all. Winn had seen you several times a day with a full plate of food. You gratefully accepted small treats that J´onn passed you and devoured them without sharing with your siblings. Your drink pattern where out of control, often reaching for water and chamomile tea as if your thirst was never quenched.

He looked around and just in time caught Alex, which came up to your side for a moment and talked to you, shortly afterwards kissed you gently on the cheek and then walked away towards him. "Did Y/n tell you anything? Somehow she does not look good to me,"

"No she did not. But I have already noticed," he acknowledged and studied over your pale color once more. Your face was sunken in and the blinking of your eyes multiplied with every minute you stared down at the tablet. "It is probably all the acetone she inhaled in the lab doing some tests. It always makes me sick too"

The redhead snapped back to Winn and looked at him perplexed. With pursing lips, she tilted her head. Her eyes were wide, pupils blown and had an abundance of sudden panic in them while her heartbeat pounded in her chest. "What did you just say?"

"Yes, the smell of old, overripe fruit and acetic acid that envelops her," he explained, desperately trying to explain the smell more specifically to her. Winn was raising his eyebrows and did not quite understand what Alex wanted to do with this information. "Did you not smell that when you were with her?"

She quickly pushed herself out of her leaning position and ran to your side. Her index and middle finger dug under your chin and pulled your face towards her. Just looking at your red eyes and the enlarged pupils were signs that her thoughts were right.

"Okay, sweetheart. You have to come to the med bay with me immediately. Move!"

...

"Alex, what happened?" the velvety but strong voice rang through the small medical room, worry mounting in it. The blonde walked over quickly to both of you, trying to take stock of the situation that played out in front of her. "Alex!"

"She is in diabetic keto acidosis," she replied subconsciously, sounding defeated. Kara could hear the sheer nervousness in the otherwise rough and dense voice. "She is ill. Very ill"

"I can see that from her condition but what do we do? Can you help her?" she pointed her hand at your sleepy and tired body. Her eyes filled with soft tears at your sight while you just smiled tiredly to show her it was not so bad.

"I will take her blood and do a fix test. In the meantime she gets 0,9% saline intravenously. If the potassium is good, I will give her insulin intravenously and correct the hypoglycemia, trying to restore her body´s volumetric saturation," her voice was deep and filled with concern. She should have looked at you sooner to see if everything was fine. The incident with Kara had obviously took a toll on you too. "Talk to her, she has to stay awake now!"

In her eyes, you had looked very bad for the last few days. But the flu epidemic was on the way and so she thought that you would only catch onto it. Alex was not aware that things were going so badly for you.

As Kara edged your bed, she felt more tears prick her eyes and trickle down her cheeks. Her baby sister was ill and looked even paler in the big bed than you were anyway. She pulled the blanket you were lying under further over you and gently patted the back of your hand a few times.

You had not moved an inch and instead were limp next to her.

"How did that happen? She always takes her insulin, I always help her," gently, she stroked your fine hair. "Because of the stress she went through, her body probably used more insulin that she was taking"

Kara looked at the redhead who had already prepared a vein access for you, letting the liquid run through it. In addition, she put a heart monitor on you to keep you under surveillance. While waiting and hoping that your condition would improve in the next few hours, they would sit in separate chairs next to you and try to engage you in conversation to keep you from falling asleep.

You lay there, tired and scared. You really wanted to close your eyes and go to sleep but every time your eyes closed for more than a few seconds, one of the girls would shake you back to them.

Trembling and shivering, you had the pressure to cry. You were scared of what was happening to you even though you knew you were safe with your siblings but there was something that unsettled you deeply. "Am I going to die?"

"No my angel. Hopefully you will feel better soon," the young blonde whispered, watching Alex pull out your blood glucose meter and pricked your finger. A slight shock ran through your body and you winced while a few small tears were falling down. "Look, your blood sugar is slowly coming down. We are already at 300," she smiled and showed you the display, which flashed your value. "It still has to fall a bit, then you need a few days of rest and you are back to normal. You will not die"

[thewitchandtheassassin]

Lilac (Alex Danvers x Reader)

Summary: Some things aren’t meant to last.

Words: 1528

Warnings: Mentions of death, fictional disease, angst, more angst, language?

A/N: I’ve always had a fascination with this so I wanted to make a story for it.

Taglist: @natasharomanoffswife @natasha-danvers @aaron-despair @username23345 @xjiasx @nowthisisliving27 @higherfurther-romanova @summergeezburr @marvels-writings @onlyafewfindtheway @captain-josslett @hayleyokami @aznblossom @everything201197 @hayleyokami @b-5by5 @lostandsearching @evilcr0ne​

-X-

Hanahaki disease - where the victim of unrequited or one-sided love begins to vomit or cough up the petals and flowers of a flowering plant growing in their lungs, which will eventually grow large enough to render breathing impossible if left untreated. There is no set time for how long this disease lasts but it may last from 2 weeks to 3 months, in rare cases up to 18 months, until the victim dies unless the feelings are returned or the plants are surgically removed.

-X-

You knew something was wrong the day Alex came scrambling into Kara’s apartment, a glaze in her eye you’d never gotten to witness before, and announced she had a date. The tightness in your lungs left you gasping for air, the sisters oblivious to your pain as you waited for their conversation to end.

Once upon a time, your mother had warned you of something like this. Of unrequited love and the agony that followed. You’d thought it was a simple fairytale, but the terrible ache in your chest left you wondering if she had been telling of something deeper.

Darker.

Quick to excuse yourself from the apartment – ignoring curious, concerned gazes – you went directly to Lena. She was the smartest person you’d ever known and you trusted her to guard the results with her life. If it was true, your mother’s tale, then you would need the utmost discretion anyways. Who would ever want to admit that their love was literally killing them?

-X-

“I don’t know what to say, (Y/N). It’s extraordinary.” Lena’s breath of disbelief did little to lessen the misery bubbling in your veins. “I’ve heard of it happening. Rare, but not unheard of. Normally caused by a truest form of love that’s currently unreturned. It’s marvelous but it…” she trailed off as the realization that had already washed over you came crashing down around her. “Oh God.”

“I’m dying,” you whispered, staring at the scan of your lungs. You could see the smallest sprouting of a flower blooming inside each, tiny roots creeping into the tissue. “I’m dying because I love her and she doesn’t love me back.”

Lena’s eyes were glossy with tears as she studied you. Her best friend – the person who knew every secret, every thought, every ounce of panic and darkness she had inside – was dying and there wasn’t much she could do to stop it. There was no treatment for this; only surgery or death, if the afflicted decided death was better than never loving their someone again.

“There is a cure,” she pointed out cautiously, watching the light drain a little more from your eyes. “Most doctors won’t discuss the disease since it’s such an oddity and even fewer can perform the surgery but I know a few.”

Chuckling humorlessly, you leaned back on the examination table and glared up at the ceiling. “You know what’s worse than the whole dying thing? Knowing Alex doesn’t love me back. I mean, that’s why the plant grows, right? Because she actually doesn’t love me. It’s not just in my head. She truly has no feelings for me.”

Lena wished she could assuage that anguish. Lie and say it wasn’t true, but it would only cause you harm in the end. Give you a false hope that would only end in stealing your life. “I’m so sorry, (Y/N).”

-X-

Every day was more painful than the last. It was hard avoiding Alex when the people you cared about most rotated around her presence. Lena, Kara, Nia… you couldn’t escape her even if you wanted to (you couldn’t admit to yourself that you still wanted to be around her, despite her lack of affection being the reason for your impending demise if you chose to forgo the surgery).

It didn’t take long for everyone to figure out something was wrong. Once healthy and vibrant, you were slowly wasting away. Petals would fall from your lips with every cough, the sickeningly sweet smell of lilacs filling the air. Kara understood before anyone else, her eyes lingering between you and Alex with a fear you’d never seen in her gaze.

After Alex admitted she was dating Kelly Olsen, Kara knew what she had to do.

“I know you love her,” she’d whispered one game night, dragging you from the others so you could have a semblance of privacy, “But Alex isn’t worth dying over.”

“You’ve almost died for her countless times,” you reminded her gently, watching the emotions warring across Kara’s soft features. “Your sister is one of a kind.”

Sighing, the blonde gathered you in her arms. “But dying over feelings isn’t worth it. Alex is stubborn and oblivious and she can’t see what’s in front of her but I refuse to watch you kill yourself over this. There are plenty of people in the world to love. Pick someone else!”

You pressed your forehead into her chest, a haggard cough escaping and petals falling around her feet. Maybe she was right. Clearly Alex’s affections remained with James’ sister and you weren’t someone who would intentionally try to ruin a good thing, especially for your friends. If Alex had decided Kelly was the right fit, who were you to argue?

So you booked an appointment with one of Lena’s associates. She planned to foot the cost entirely, much to your dismay, but it was hard to argue when you’re throwing up plants. But it would take a little time so you forced yourself to enjoy the few fleeting moments with Alex you had left; the moments where you could love her with your whole chest. Soon, she’d be just another person in your world and while you hated that notion, you knew you couldn’t die over a selfish, unrequited love.

-X-

“Kara says you’re having surgery? Why didn’t you tell me?” Alex inquired a few nights before your procedure, hurt clear in her dark eyes as she peered at you from the couch. “I could’ve been there for you!”

“It’s not worth worrying over,” you replied dismissively, inhaling sharply at the blossoming twinge in your lungs. “It’s quick and easy.”

Alex’s brows furrowed thoughtfully. “Are you… is it…”

You knew what she wanted to say but couldn’t find the proper questions to ask. “Yeah, they’re going to fix the disease before it kills me.” Emotionless to a fault, you refused to acknowledge that she was the reason for all of this. Even in these final moments, you couldn’t bring yourself to be angry with her.

She’d done nothing wrong.

“Did you ever tell whoever you love what happened? You know, to see if it would change anything?” she wondered, awkward in her attempts to not sound invasive about your disease. “If it were me, I’d definitely want to know.”

It took everything within you not to tense, choosing to stare ahead at the television. “No and they don’t need to know. It wouldn’t change anything. Even if they did start to have feelings for me, I’d never believe it was genuine. I’d rather get rid of it and let y – her live a happy life without that knowledge than know that this had anything to do with her. I care more about that than anything else.”

“Such a martyr,” Alex teased, tossing a pillow at you playfully. “Some girls might think it’s romantic. Loving someone that much.”

You rolled your eyes, smirking at the woman so close to the truth, but skimming over it drastically. “Maybe, Danvers, but it’s for the best. Truly.”

“Whoever she was, she would’ve been lucky to have your love,” Alex announced firmly, her words creating a warmth in your chest that you wished you could snub out. Those words made it so much harder to let this go, even if it killed you. “Seriously, you’re a great person, (Y/N) and anyone can see that.”

Except you.

-X-

The first breath after surgery left you feeling like a brand new person, no matter how cliché that statement was. It was strange, remembering there was once love for someone but no longer feeling a shred of… anything. They had warned you the first few months might leave you apathetic towards the person you had once loved, but it was bizarre knowing everything was erased.

A clean slate.

Waiting until your lungs were properly healed, you didn’t see your friends for nearly a month before finally venturing over for a game night. You had braced yourself for whatever might happen, but actually seeing Alex again was very anticlimactic. Her hug no longer felt like molten lava on your flesh and the brush of her lips on your cheek didn’t leave butterflies banging against your ribs.

Even the news of her break up with Kelly didn’t conjure up any feelings of excitement. You truly no longer felt anything when it came to Alex’s affections.

Things are going to be oka –

“Alex!”

Your head snapped over in the direction of the doubled-over woman, her arms tucked around her waist as she tried to keep upright, petals clinging to her lips. All eyes except yours were watching her anxiously, yet yours strayed lower in a panic…

Lilacs.

[superdanverstrio]

kidnapped PT.3

Masterlist

PT.1   PT.2  PT.4  PT.5  PT.6  PT.7

Summary: Baby Danvers Get kidnapped and it’s up to Kara and Alex to do everything in their power to save them.

Warnings: Torture, kidnapping, graphic description of injuries.

The first 2 building was just a simple 1-story building that was completely abandoned, so it wouldn't take long to search. Brainy and Nia checked the building, but it was empty there were a few box here and there, but that’s it, the second building was the same. Kara and j’onn Already checked the first floor and there was nothing. Getting to the last floor, both sister were starting to lose hope. They look around the last floor, but they didn't find you or the alien. “Brainy, are you sure those were the only location you found.” Kara asked desperately. “Unfortunately, yes, that’s all I have for now.” Kara sighed and looked at j’onn with tears in her eyes. “We will never find them in time.” J'onn took Kara in his harm.” Yes, we will ok well find them in time.”

 In a last ditch attempt, Kara used her super hearing. She was extremely surprised to hear a really faint but present heart beat, pulling away she concentrated on the sound. “What wrong?” He asked. "I think I hear something, It's coming from downstairs.” She followed the sound, it leads her to a wall on the first floor. “Hidden door, maybe.” Kara said, and J’onn shrugged. They looked around trying to find something like a button, a lever, anything that could reveal a secret door. Looking closely, Kara found a spot that wasn’t the exact shade of the wall, she pressed on it and the wall opened. 

 Behind the door, Kara saw the most horrifying sigh she could ever see. There was you on the floor covered in blood and bruises, your eyes were closed and if it wasn’t for the slight movement of your chest anyone would've thought you were dead. The was towering over you, he grabbed you by the neck and lifted you in the air. “Are you dead yet or do I need to continue?” He chuckled, he squeezed your neck more and with your eyes still close you weakly grabbed at he’s wrist. Kara was frozen there in shock, she couldn’t move, she just looked at you.

Your POV: 

You just wanted to die at this point, your entire body was hurting, you were so weak you couldn’t move nor could you scream in pain when he hit you or stabbed you with his sharp claws. 

 You knew he was there, you could feel his presence. You heard the door open, so you thought he was actually gone, but you quickly realized he wasn’t when he wrapped his hand around your neck and squeezed, cutting your flow of oxygen, you weakly tried to loosen his grip on your throat, but it was obviously a failed attempt. 

 Suddenly you were dropped onto the floor and you groaned at the impact. You heard some struggling then there were hands-on you, you whimpered and flinch in pain because the hand were touching one of your wound, you tried to move away from what you think was Vexok hands. 

 General POV: 

 “Get away from her!” J’onn scream, snapping Kara out of her trance. The Alien dropped you to the floor, right as he did, j’onn attacked him whilst Kara ran toward you. She placed her hand on your side to see how badly you were hurt, She heard you whimpered and try to move away from her, not knowing she was hurting you she pressed down harder to keep you from moving. A weak cry left your lips and that when she took her hand away, you shook like a leaf and try to move away again. “Sweetheart, it’s me, it’s Kara, it’s your big sister. You’re going to be ok. I know it hurt, I’m sorry. Could you open your eyes for me please?” Kara said, tears brimming her eyes at the sight of you like this, you slowly opened your eyes, even if your sight was blurred a little you recognized your sister’s bright blue eyes they were filled with worry. You cried in relief and happiness at the sight of her. 

 Behind her, j’onn made quick work of knocking the alien down. “Come on, we need to bring them both to the D.E.O.” J’onn said, Kara nodded and picked you up. You let out another weak cry of pain, which broke Kara’s heart even more. “I’m sorry, Honey, but I have to bring you to the D.E.O.” She said softly.

[marvel-arrvers]

Masterlist

Do not steal any of my work

Request guidelines (read before requesting)

Request: Open

Fandom

Supergirl

Marvel

Supergirl

Hungry (Kara Danvers x reader)

Reciprocal emotions (Kara Danvers x reader)

Marvel

I love you (Valkyrie x reader)

Don't worry darling (Tony stark x reader)

[ynscrazylife]

pumpkin carving where reader accidentally hurts herself! if your willing you should do this with B!D?

Laser Tag | sister!danvers fic

Summary: Y/N gets hurt while carving pumpkins with her sisters.

Authors Note: Thanks for requesting!

CW WARNING: Description of burnt and bloodied skin. It’s not extremely detailed. 

DISCLAIMER: Do not take anything written here as medical advice. 

Request to be on a taglist (or multiple) here! (Taglists are at the end of the fic)

MCU Masterlist #1 | MCU Masterlist #2 |  Main Masterlist

PSA: Do NOT copy, steal, translate, plagiarize, republish, etc any of my works on Tumblr or any other platform. Also, do NOT claim any of my works as your own. All of these works are either requests I’ve gotten that people have wanted me to write or original ideas I’ve had for works. If you happen to take inspiration from anything I’ve written and want to write something inspired by that, please a) ask me first and b) IF I say yes, credit me as inspo in your post by tagging me and link whatever work of mine that inspired you. Thanks.

header c @/sgirledits

Ever since Kara came to live with the Danvers when she was a teenager, she was fascinated when that same year, Eliza announced that they would be doing this seemingly magical activity called “pumpkin carving”. Seeing a pumpkin was already a shock for the blonde, for they didn’t have pumpkins on Krypton - but carving them? The family still recalled fondly how baffled she had been, watching Alex and young Y/N get to work with removing the pumpkins’ insides (which Y/N called “pumpkin guts” and the nickname stuck for its cuteness). 

Eliza, sensing her confusion, patiently explained the process of it, and Kara’s face lit up when she was presented with her very own pumpkin (Alex and Y/N still claim to this day that Kara’s pumpkin was bigger). She quickly got to work and was a natural. Ever since she carved a goofy face and saw the candle light, this earthly tradition held a special place in her heart. It was her first holiday with her new family, one of the first family things they had actually done. 

Since then, the Kryptonian had insisted on carving pumpkins each October. They had gone years without anyone sustaining an actual injury, but this year ended up breaking that record, and would be a story for the ages. 

It all started when the three sisters were hovering over Alex’s dinner table in the middle of the DEO Director’s apartment. Each were busy at work de-gutting their pumpkins . . . Well, if one of your definitions of “busy” was “subtly-using-heat-vision-powers-to-destroy-the-guts”, which was what Kara was doing.

When the faint hum of her powers wiggled into Y/N’s ear, who was standing next to Kara with Alex across the table of them, she peered over Kara’s pumpkin, shocked and betrayed to find it nearly squeaky clean. “I thought we agreed on no powers!” The youngest Danver whined, louder then intended. 

Y/N’s sudden closeness, accompanied by her wail, caught Kara off guard. She jumped, instinctively turning her head, her concentrated heat vision suddenly being broken. As quick as the speed of light (or really, Barry Allen), her heat vision pierced the vase that stood on a shelf behind Y/N, shattering it into minuscule pieces and sending the shards crashing to the floor,  

The room dropped in noise as soon as what happened had occurred to all three Danvers. Y/N stared at the place where the vase had been standing just a moment ago, her mouth agape. Meanwhile, Kara squeaked out a “Oh Rao, I’m so sorry, Alex!” and Alex dashed to the kitchen to get the trash can.

“It’s okay!” She called out, heaving the trash can into her arms. “I’ve been meaning to find a reason to get rid of it, anyway. J’onn really has the worst decor taste.” She finished her words as she reemerged into the living room.

Kara jumped forward and scurried over to the broken vase, using her invulnerability powers to collect all the shards in record time and dumping them in the trash can Alex held out. When Alex disappeared into the kitchen to return the trash can to its proper place, Y/N snapped out of her trance of shock, and realized that she had instinctively cupped her stomach with her hand, and that her hand was scalding hot! 

She instantly removed it, shaking it in hopes of it granting her even the slightest bit of relief. Y/N sucked in a sharp breath, winced, and glanced up only to meet Kara’s worried and fixated gaze. For a split second, she considered lying, not wanting to worry her older sister, but when her skin began to feel like it was about be yanked off her body, she knew she couldn’t withstand this for much longer without some kind of cure. “I-I think your heat vision might’ve hit me, too,” was what she got out, wincing again as the pain fully set in.

Within a blink, Kara was standing in front of her, biting her bottom lip in both concentration and anticipation as she lifted Y/N’s shirt. A soft gasp that was caught before it turned into a big one escaped Kara’s lips, and Y/N looked down to take in the sight her sister was eyeing: a large, uneven circle of red that was blistering and peeling, dabbed with blood. It appeared that Kara’s heat vision had not only burned Y/N, but really hit her with large scrapes and cuts.

Y/N trembled at the sight, as she was never too good seeing her own injuries. In a desperate attempt to block out the pain, she tried to zone out, but Kara’s yell of “ALEX!” sliced through her concentration like a knife in thin air. 

Immediately, the auburn-haired woman came running. She skidded to a halt as she took in the scene and, with her brain working as fast as a computer, delivered instructions. “Kara, get her over to the couch, I’m going to grab an ice pack,” she said, wasting no time before she broke off into a run. 

Kara nodded and looped an arm around Y/N’s shoulders, despite the fact that she was capable to walk, and led her over to the couch, helping her lay down. 

Just as Y/N was settled, Alex appeared and, without warning, plopped the ice pack directly on the burn, causing Y/N to let out a yelp and instinctively squirm at the sudden, freezing coldness. “I know, I know,” Alex murmured soothingly, while Kara rubbed Y/N’s arm, wanting to comfort her in any way she could. 

“It’s — too — cold,” Y/N said, taking in short breaths and grasping Kara’s hand, squeezing it tightly. It was a shock to her body, the rapid change in temperature, and the fact that it wouldn’t do away.

“I’m sorry, love, but you need to keep the ice pack on,” Kara told her gently, locking eye contact with Alex over Y/N’s head. The sisters passed a look of remorse, hating that their little sister was in pain, even if it would help in the end.

They stayed like that for the next couple moments until Alex removed the ice pack. Y/N immediately let out a deep breath and clung to Kara when Alex got up to go get some bandages. When she returned, she wrapped her stomach in the bandage after cleaning the scrapes and cuts.

“Are you feeling just a little bit better, maybe?” Kara hopefully asked.

Y/N realized that the cold had become more bearable and she nodded. Alex stood up and retrieved her pumpkin, handing it to her little sister so she could continue carving it. Y/N sent her a smile as a way to say thanks, and continued until she finished carving the pumpkin into a smiley face, and her sisters praised her work.

Permanent Taglist: @natasharomanoffismywife @hehehehannahthings@paulawand@blackbat2020 @cerberus-spectre @marrymemcgrath@celestialbarnes@kathryndimitrescu @snipyloulou @big-galaxy-chaos@cc13723things@ycfwmalise14 @unexpected-character  (could not tag)  @passionswift@drayshadow

DCEU Taglist: @stephanieromanoff @basiclesbianbitch @hi-i-1 @mmmmokdok @snipyloulou @acertainredhead @thanossexual @avengersz-biotch @kozumeko @un-name-d @kuzomekou-blog

[forthesapphicsonly]

MASTERLIST

So, since it's been a while since I've posted anything, I knew now that my masterlist wasn't working. And since I changed the name of the blog, it was kind of expected (if you got here when it was all bush and desert, you're a veteran and I love you as part of my family).

So I basically had to relearn how to update my blog again and update my masterlist and link to every fanfic ever posted, because apparently tumblr doesn't do this job alone.

So here they are. Duly updated and functional. I have a separate list for Diana Prince because at the time I got a lot of requests for her, so..

Masterlist Diana Prince x reader

Masterlist

I also intend to update the fanfics and change the name of the reader (yes, I use a name, because Y/N hits a visual nerve of mine, besides not being practical for people who use screen reader). At the time I chose the name Angel, it had to do with the blog name and because, you know, angels are neutral and have no gender or race and I thought that way I would be including everyone and not offending anyone. However, Angel seems to be a common name in the US (in my country it's used as a pet/nick name, like 'honey'). I'm probably going to use a name making it up (like Atara) and I don't know, you guys can make a petition too, I don't know. Let me know what to do to make you happy.