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wonderingnerd · 3 days ago

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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.”

#YES YES YES #this fucking last line??!!!#I’m fucking elated!!#he so got what he deserved #and let’s be honest #Kara won’t break him bones #it’ll be Alex #she’ll lock him in a room with red sun lamp light and it herself #and she’ll be so happy about it too #supergirl #fanfic #kara x reader

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