#oh yeah. nearly fucking die because 'you don't need a doctor'. the longer it's been the more convinced I am that I nearly did die
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They Hate Each Other (No They Don't, Not Really) (Alex Morgan x Reader)
All would agree, your arch nemesis showing up absolutely anywhere you were would ruin your day, but that’s EXACTLY what happens to one veteran USWNT player, Alex Morgan, when she runs into her arch nemesis at the USWNT camp.
Alex Morgan’s eyes widen, pure rage running through her when you strut towards her, bag in hand.
“You shouldn’t look at your soon to be teammate like that Morgan, frowning gives you wrinkles.” You wink, the forward’s lip curling in a snarl.
“What’s she doing-
“I DON’T KNOW.” Alex yells, nearly making Kelley jump out of her skin.
Alex was absolutely livid, seeing you at the USWNT camp had been a surprise, and not a wonderful one.
The second Alex spotted Vlatko Andonovski she advances angrily on the man, who’s looking at her as if he expected this reaction.
“Alex-
“What the hell!? We’re you going to tell me? To tell US?!” She yells, louder than intended, but you’d riled her up in way no one had before.
“I didn’t know you were the coach this year Morgan, if I did, I would’ve stayed home.” You snark, your smirk making Alex growl.
“Shut UP!” She yells and you laugh.
“We should room together Morgan, I think we’d make GREAT roommates.”
Alex growls, mumbling under her breath.
“It’ll be easier to smother you in your sleep then.”
You smirk cockily.
“Kinky.”
Alex snarls angrily.
“Listen.” Vlatko holds a hand up, glancing your way before turning back to Alex.
“Y/N is one of the best players in the world, having her at our camp, and possibly on the team brings our team up to the next level. I saw a chance, and I took it.”
Alex shakes her head.
“But-
He shakes his head.
“I’m sorry Alex.” He pats her on her shoulder before turning away and walking off.
Alex meanwhile is standing stock still, her mouth agape.
Her biggest rival had just joined the USWNT camp, and would PROBABLY join the USWNT.
She growls.
“Fuck.”
***
If you were being honest, you absolutely hated Alex Patricia Morgan, the woman knew how to push your buttons and she did so whenever she could.
You’d met during college, of course, on rival teams, ultimately where your rivalry began, a rivalry that seeped into your NWNT career, and when Alex came overseas, donning the Tottenham Hotspur’s jersey, you were there, wearing a red and white Arsenal’s jersey.
Needless to say, when the two teams squared up, your rivalry continued.
Alex hated you just as much as you hated her, making the competition between the two of you even more fierce.
It surprised literally EVERYONE that the two of you hadn’t killed one another yet.
At this current moment in time though, you were currently literal moments from killing one another.
“I didn’t mean to step on your cleats Morgan, just go to the store when practice is over and buy another pair.” You snort.
Alex lets out a feral growl.
“You are SO fucking infuriating!”
You blow the woman a kiss, which only infuriates her more, the woman stomping her foot before she trudges off.
“Fuck off!” She yells over her shoulder and you scoff.
“You too!”
***
Vlatko rubs the back of his neck watching as you and Alex hurl insults at one another. He’d known about your rivalry, but he wasn’t aware that it went to the extent of actual hatred.
Alex was absolutely fuming as you walked past her, moments after sinking a goal in her team’s net.
“Don’t look so mad Morgan, we both know I’m better than you could ever dream of being.”
Alex stomps passed you, the woman’s shoulder slamming into yours.
You flip around, eyes full of absolute fire.
“Body check me again Morgan, I fucking dare you.” You growl in her face, so much so that your nose brushes hers.
Alex pushes you backwards.
“Nobody tells me what to do on MY FIELD.”
You snicker.
“Your field?” You throw your head back, barking out a laugh, though when you stop laughing you lean towards her, smirking.
“Let’s see how much longer this field is yours, you numpty.”
Alex growls as you walk towards the nearby benches with a confident strut.
“WHAT DOES THAT EVEN MEAN!?”
***
“I don’t get why you hate Y/N so much ANYWAY, she seems nice...”
The second the words leave Emily’s mouth she feels as if she’s about to burst into flames from the absolute fiery glare she’s getting from Alex.
Kelley immediately slips in between Alex and Emily, her hands held up in surrender.
“Jan, please don’t kill Emily, who else will carry on the Frat Daddy legacy!?” The defender asks, pleading for her child’s life.
Alex snarls, stomping away from the two of them, all the while mumbling angrily under her breath.
“Y/N NICE?! How could ANYONE put her and NICE in the same fucking sentence???” She snarls, deciding that some time on the field would clear her mind.
***
Though what Alex DOESN’T expect when she gets to the field is to find you there, the field between you and the goal littered with soccer balls.
Alex ducks down when you turn her way, an aggravated snarl leaving you.
“BLOODY HELL!” You yell, Alex’s eyes widening at the thickness of your accent.
She peeks out from her hiding place, watching as you drop down onto the pitch, sitting in a cross-legged position.
Alex frowns when she sees your face is buried in your hands.
“Fuck that shite.” You sigh as you move to your feet, wiping the sweat from your brow with your bare arm.
Alex isn’t sure what possess her to stay for so long, but nearly an hour later you’re still on field, sinking ball after ball in different angles, it’s when you miss one that you angrily snarl.
“Nothing but a right, cock-up!”
Alex shakes her head, her brows furrowed.
Why were you so hard on yourself after you’d done so well within an hours time?
Alex’s eyes widen when she sees you glance her way your brows furrowed.
“Oi! Is someone there?!” You shout, standing stock still.
When no one replies, you give your head a rapid shake, unaware that Alex is currently sprinting away from the scene.
“Must’ve imagined it.”
***
Alex had seen how hard you were on yourself that day, but that in no way quelled her anger entirely considering you were at each other's throats after the fact.
“You did that on fucking PURPOSE!” Alex growls as she’s helped to the bench, her leg injured from an accidental cleating by yours truly.
You pinch the bridge of your nose as you jog over to the bench.
“I didn’t!” You growl as you drop to your knees in front of her, the forward’s eyes wide and brows furrowed when you gently slip her cleat off her foot, along with her sock, now noticing the hints of blood dotting the fabric.
“Shite.” You mumble, swiping the nearby first aid kit from the team’s doctor.
“Yeah, I don’t like you, but I wouldn’t make you purposely bleed.”
Alex watches in something akin to disbelief when you begin to clean her injury with a delicacy that she hadn’t seen from you in, well, ever.
Your touch sent a jolt from her leg through her entire body, a warmth spreading throughout her from a delicate brush of your fingertips.
Moments after you finished dressing her wound, you glance up at her.
“This doesn’t mean I hate you any less.”
You move to your feet, sending the woman a glare before you head back on field.
“Don’t use your leg as an excuse for the shite way you’re playing, you know it’s just because I’m better than you.” You smirk cockily.
Alex’s eyes narrow.
“Better my ass.”
***
The first person who finds out about you making the USWNT, well, besides yourself, is Alex Morgan, considering you actively sought her out, a cocky smirk on your face.
Alex sighs in annoyance.
“I know you made the fucking team, go away.”
You grin grabbing an apple from the table in front of you and take a bite, the apple crunching loudly.
“I’m right where I’m supposed to be actually. Isn’t this where the USWNT members sit?” You grin, earning an eye roll from the forward.
“Yes, but your seat is over there.” She nods towards the trash and you laugh, sucking a piece of apple down your windpipe, garnering no help from the woman beside you.
“Blimey, let one of the ONLY reasons you’ll be winning any and all major tournaments this year die, real dull mate.”
Alex growls.
“I’m not, ‘dull mate.’” She says, doing her best to mock you and your accent.
Your eyes widen.
“Oh my god, that was rank awful. That actually hurt to hear. My nan is rolling over in her grave right now.”
Alex blows a raspberry at you.
“Real mature love, real mature.”
“Don’t you have someone else to bother?” She growls.
“I’m busy bothering you right now.”
Alex snarls, jumping to her feet and storming off.
“See you later teammate!” You yell, waving over exaggeratedly at her as she marches off.
***
Where your feelings for Alex, at least off the field, were based more off of annoying her until the point of insanity, your feelings for her on the field was a competitive hate, something Alex mirrored, but her hate for you off field?
Well, it was complete unbridled hate.
“Seriously, if you’re going to play like that, then stay off the field, England needs you more than we do.” Alex shakes her head and you smirk.
“You over shot it! Not me!” You shake your head in disbelief.
Alex lets out a mock laugh.
“Maybe you should’ve actually ran faster.”
You throw your head back with a groan.
“If I was in your position, we would’ve scored.”
Alex stomps her foot, the look in her eyes something you’d seen before, but never to this extent.
“You’re not made for the USWNT and you’re NOT made for soccer at a national level, you sucked in college, and you still fucking suck now.”
The field goes silent, everyone turning to look at Alex, their eyes wide.
Meanwhile, Alex’s blue orbs are locked on your face, a face that holds literally no hints of the cockiness it TYPICALLY holds, instead, it holds what she reads, as a hint of sadness.
You clear your throat, your mouth opening and closing a few times before you nod.
“Th-Thanks.”
Alex reaches out to you as you turn your back on her, the woman frowning as you make your way towards the bench, grabbing your things hastily before you head towards the bus.
Alex’s head hangs in shame, the looks of her teammates burning holes in her back.
“Alex-” Megan starts, only to be cut off by the forward moments later.
“I KNOW! OKAY!?” She yells, sending the rest of the USNWT a look.
Her shoulders hunch.
“I know.”
***
The second she steps on the bus you turn away, unwilling to look at the woman as she walks past, though, unfortunately for you, she doesn’t walk past, she instead sits right beside you.
“Are you lost?” You ask, voice rough.
Alex shakes her head.
“No, I’m not.”
You move to your feet.
“Well, if you’re not lost, then I’ll get lost.” You say, frowning when Alex doesn’t move so you can get out of your seat.
“Move Morgan.” You growl angrily.
She shakes her head.
“No can do, Y/L/N.” She shrugs and you growl, about to climb over the seat, but the look on Alex’s face stops you, causing you to flop back down into your seat in annoyance.
“Why are you holding me against my will Morgan?” You huff.
She sighs, rolling her eyes.
“Look, I’m sorry, I took it too far.”
Your eyes narrow, brows furrowing as you lean back, away from the woman.
“There’s no WAY that you’re Alex Morgan, she never apologizes, especially not to ME.” You bark out a laugh and she shakes her head.
“As much as it PAINS me to do so, I shouldn’t have said what I said on field, you do deserve to be on the team, and you don’t suck... That much.” She shrugs, and you can’t help but smile.
You begin chuckling, the woman looking at you in confusion.
“What’s so funny?”
“Yeah, you still suck.”
Alex growls.
“Fuck you Y/N.”
You grin.
“Right back at you love, right back at you.”
***
The lineup for the first match against Portugal was rather surprising, you weren’t expecting to start, not when players like Megan Rapinoe, Tobin Heath and Christen Press were on the team, but you were named to the starting lineup.
You wouldn’t show your surprise to the team, but you’d been sure to ask Vlatko multiple times if the lineup was correct, and he of course, told you repeatedly it was.
You did your best to not look nervous when standing in the tunnel, a number of Portugal’s players were glancing your way worriedly, everyone knew who you were, and everyone knew what you could do.
The crowd cheered as the USWNT and Portugal made their way onto the field, everyone excited to see the new editions to the USWNT and what they had to offer.
You completely blank out the National Anthem, standing stock still your eyes darting around the sold-out crowd.
It isn’t until you’re taking your place on field that you snap back out of it, your eyes unconsciously darting to the woman with a big 13 on her back.
You smirk.
“Show time.”
***
You can feel it, the moment you’re about to make your first goal with the USWNT, your entire body shaking with excitement.
Alex can’t help but smile when you expertly slip the ball passed the Portugal player who’s on you and fire it in on goal, the ball with a bit of a spin on it.
You still, the ball looking like an overshot, but thanks to the spin on it, gravity pulls it downwards, passed the goalkeeper’s fingertips and into the back of the net.
You throw a fist in the air with a massive grin, a grin Alex mirrors when she walks over to you, patting your back, her reaction tame considering Tobin was currently hanging off your back, along with Kelley and Emily.
Alex shrugs.
“Lucky shot.”
You snort.
“Luck had nothing to do with it.”
Alex snorts even louder.
“I mean, I DID assist.”
You roll your eyes.
“Didn’t need your assistance.” You smirk, the forward’s eyes narrowing as she sends you a glare, receiving only a wink in return.
Alex growls.
“Still so infuriating.”
***
By the end of the first half the score is 2-0, and by the end of the game, it’s 4-0, one of those goals being yours, and another belonging to Alex Morgan.
It’s when you’re heading to the bus that you turn to Alex with a smirk.
“Had to copy me, huh Morgan?”
Alex scoffs.
“Copy? You got a goal before me, big deal.”
Tobin shakes her head as she takes a seat beside Christen on the bus.
“Do they argue about everything?” She asks and Christen giggles, watching as you and Alex bicker, though instead of sitting far away from one another, Alex sits right behind you.
“I mean, I guess that’s how they say they’re into each other.”
An incredibly loud laugh makes Christen jump, the woman turning to her bus buddy who is looking at her in shock.
“They literally want each other dead.”
Christen rolls her eyes.
“No, they don’t, they like each other.”
Ali turns around in her seat towards Christen and Tobin.
“I mean, it’s obvious.”
Ashlyn scoffs.
“Obvious that Y/N would poison Alex’s food if she could.”
Kelley, who comes in from out of nowhere snorts.
“Yeah, I mean, they’ve hated each other since college, Jan talks about it all the time.”
Christen and Ali share a glance, the two shaking their heads.
“They’re totally into each other.”
“Oh, I know.”
***
“Wait, there HAS to be a mistake...” You say as Vlatko turns to you, Alex’s eyes wide and filled with absolute horror.
“No, the two of you are rooming together. It seems.” He shrugs, knowing full well that it was he who decided the two of you would room together, and it wouldn’t be a onetime deal either.
The two of you glance at one another, eyes narrowed.
“I get the shower first.” Alex mumbles and you smirk, swiping the key from Vlatko before sprinting to the elevators.
“The FUCK you do!” You yell, Alex sprinting after you.
“Y/N YOU GET BACK HERE!”
Everyone watches as Alex chases after you, their eyes wide.
Tobin turns towards Christen.
“You call THAT being into each other?”
Christen turns towards Ali, the two yet again, shaking their heads.
“Oblivious.”
***
“DON’T USE ALL THE HOT WATER!” Alex yells, smacking the bathroom door and you growl.
The door swings open moments later and you walk out, wearing nothing but a sports bra and a pair of boxers.
“Morgan, we’re in a hotel, that’s impossible.”
Alex watches as you head to your suitcase, riffling through its contents.
She can’t help but stare, the wide expanse of flesh and muscle usually hidden beneath your uniform now on display for her to see.
You turn around, holding a wad of clothes, your brows furrowed.
Alex jumps when you reach out, poking her in the forehead with your index finger.
“Hey!” She growls, slapping at your hand.
“I just wanted to see if you were still alive.”
Alex’s eyes rake down your front, stopping on your very prominent abdominal muscles.
You turn away and step in the bathroom, kicking the door shut behind you.
Alex stands there for a moment before she glances around.
“Yeah.”
***
Alex had TRIED to tell herself that she was in NO way ogling you like a horny frat boy, but when you walked out wearing basically the same thing to sleep in, she knew she was, for a fact, ogling you like a horny frat boy.
She’d made a quick retreat to the bathroom moments after, but she couldn’t avoid you forever.
You meanwhile were completely sprawled out in bed, Nintendo Switch in hand. You briefly wondered if Alex had drowned, but when the bathroom door swung open you sighed.
“I thought you might’ve drowned, I was going to see if you wanted to smash.”
Alex stops mid-stride, dropping her clothes on the floor.
“WHAT!?”
Your brows furrow as you hold your Nintendo Switch up.
“Smash...?”
Alex clears her throat, her cheeks blood red.
“O-O-Oh...”
You snort.
“Christ Morgan.” You shake your head and she rolls her eyes, stomping to her bed.
“What?”
You shrug.
“Get your mind out of the gutter, at least now I know you want in my trousers.” You smirk and she snarls, a pillow flying from her bed and smacking you right in the face.
“Fuck you.”
“SEE!” You grin, throwing the pillow back on her bed.
“I’m going to kill you in your sleep.”
You shake your head.
“Get over here and we’ll smash.” You hold a controller out to her and her eyes narrow.
“Sure, you’re okay with losing?” She asks cockily and you grin.
“Are you?”
Alex scoffs.
“I’d never lose to you.”
“We’ll see about that.”
***
“Why do you look so tired?” Kelley asks Alex the following day and the forward yawns.
“Y/N and I were Smashing.”
Kelley’s brown orbs widen, as do Alex’s the forward punching her friend in the arm.
“Super Smash Brothers you bitch.”
Kelley hums.
“I mean I could see you and Y/N hate fucking each other.” She shrugs and Alex’s cheeks flush bright red.
Alex punches Kelley in the shoulder, the defender groaning.
“Jesus Christ, Jan. You didn’t have to hit me so hard.”
Alex turns her attention towards her breakfast and away from the pouting defender beside her.
Though you were absolutely irritating and Alex thought about killing you a total of 48 times last night, she enjoyed spending time with you.
You yawn as you make your way towards the table, sitting across from Alex.
“You have to get used to losing if we keep smashing every night.”
Suddenly a plate falls to the table, hard, the sound making everyone jump.
Tobin is standing beside you, her eyes wide, Ashlyn meanwhile is smirking as she sits down beside you.
“Who’s smashing?” Megan asks and you roll your eyes.
“Smash Bros.” You shake your head and Megan rolls her eyes exaggeratedly.
“Boring, there’s only one Smash that’s actually interesting.”
Tobin gasps dramatically, her hand on her heart.
“I beg to DIFFER.”
You shake your head, watching with amusement as the two bicker, leading to Ashlyn chiming in.
You glance at Alex.
“You just HAD to tell everyone we Smashed.”
Alex rolls her eyes.
“Of course, I did, because I won.”
You bark out a laugh, shaking your head as you sip your orange juice.
“Like one time, Morgan.”
Alex growls.
“WELL, WE’LL SMASH AGAIN TONIGHT!” She yells, every single one of her teammates turning her way.
Alex clears her throat, rubbing the back of her neck.
“Are we talking about the SAME Smashing?” You smirk and Alex sends you a glare.
“SHUT UP.”
***
Alex rubs her temples angrily.
Playing in the rain had always been a hassle, but playing in the rain against SWEDEN was a nightmare.
Sweden was the USWNT’s rival and the fact that the USWNT were currently down by 2 of COURSE, didn’t sit well with Alex Morgan.
The whistle blows, signaling the end of the first half and Alex sighs in relief, she needed a break, not only for her tired legs, but to quell the irritation inside of her.
Someone bumps into her and she snarls.
“Watch where the FUCK you’re going.” She turns towards, who she now realizes is you, you who looks as equally pissed as she does.
“Listen Morgan, I’m seriously not in the fucking mood, I’m just as mad as you are, so don’t start your shit with me.” You snap, your USWNT teammates stopping to stare at the two of you with wide eyes.
“Fuck you.” She snarls turning to walk away and you sneer.
“Yeah? We’ll fuck you too!” You yell before you follow after her and into the locker room.
“Why are you following me!?” She yells and you scoff.
“WE SHARE A LOCKER ROOM.” You deadpan, flopping down on the nearby bench.
“Well, you can still sit away from me.” Alex gripes and you shake your head.
“I’m not moving Morgan.”
Alex, being purposely annoying sits down behind you, rather closely in fact.
“Well, I’m not either.” She mumbles and you snort.
“Mature Morgan, REALLLL mature.”
***
By the time the game ended the USWNT had a comeback, winning the game 3-2, much to Alex’s elation, as well as your own.
That elation didn’t erase the fact that the two of you had argued during the match, the two of you cold, wet and incredibly angry.
Alex is pulled out of her trance when the bathroom’s door in your and her hotel room swings open, a rush of steam flowing out as you leave the room.
Alex glances away from you, not only because you’re, yet again, barely dressed, but also because she’s ashamed of her behavior earlier that day.
You flop onto your bed without even looking at her, choosing to fall face down against its plush surface.
You remain silent, the air within the room incredibly heavy.
The silence is broken by Alex’s soft whisper.
“I’m sorry I took my frustration out on you.”
You remain silent as you roll over, your hand slipping into your suitcase.
You search blindly until you find what you’re looking for, holding the Nintendo Switch out to Alex.
“Smash?” You ask and Alex smiles.
“Smash.”
Alex flops on the bed beside you, taking the controller she’d used a few nights prior.
You glance at her out of the corner of your eye.
“I’m sorry too.”
Alex’s brows arch, the woman unable to bite back a smile, something that makes you send her a glare.
“Enough of this shite, ready to lose Morgan?”
Alex scoffs.
“I should be asking you that.”
***
You grimace as the body beside you shifts, a pair of arms wrapping tightly around you from behind.
“I’m not the little spoon.” You growl, attempting to wiggle free from the hold you’re in.
“Get over it.”
Your eyes flash open, as do Alex’s the two of you abruptly sitting up when you realize you’d in fact fallen asleep together the night before.
You turn to face her, the two of you looking at one another in absolute horror.
“I was just-
Alex leaps out of bed, the woman making a beeline towards the bathroom the two of you share.
You nod, your cheeks flushed.
“Ye-Yeah.”
You clear your throat, turning away from the bathroom to instead look at the alarm clock beside you.
3:13 AM
You grumble, annoyed at the fact that you’d woken up so early.
If you were honest with yourself, you were also annoyed that Alex wasn’t currently beside you, but you weren’t really in the mood for honesty at the moment.
You flop backwards, rolling towards the center of the bed where it just so happens Alex had been laying moments later, the smell of the woman’s perfume left behind on the sheets.
You attempt to resist temptation, but find yourself failing when you bury your nose into the sweet-smelling fabric, the smell clouding your senses.
The bathroom door creaks open sometime after, the sweet-smelling fabric lulling you to the cusp of sleep, as you fight your eyelids you watch as Alex tiptoes to her bed, the woman glancing over her shoulder at your ‘sleeping’ form with a smile before she makes her way to her own bed.
She falls down onto the cold sheets with a frown, thoughts of what the following day would bring running through her head.
***
Much to everyone’s surprise at practice the following day, neither you nor Alex had been at one another’s throats, in fact, you’d been ignoring each other as if the other had contracted the Black Death.
Even when you slip a ball passed Alex and into goal, you don’t gloat, instead choosing to just jog away as if you hadn’t scored.
“Okay, what the hell was that?” Kelley asks, her eyes narrowed as she stares inquisitively at Alex.
“What?” Alex asks dumbly.
Kelley scoffs.
“THAT, Y/N didn’t even gloat! She didn’t rub in your face that she scored passed you!” Kelley points at you and Alex shrugs.
“Beats me.”
Kelley’s eyes narrow even further as Alex walks away, the defender’s eyes burning holes in her back.
“I WILL FIND OUT WHAT’S GOING ON JAN!” She yells across field, drawing the attention of each and every one of her teammates, including you.
You clear your throat, your cheeks flushing when you realize Alex’s blue orbs are on you.
The two of you abruptly turn away from one another, thoughts of the events that transpired that morning running through your heads.
You clear your throat as you rub the back of your neck, your cheeks flushing further when you think about Alex’s arms around you, and how much you’d liked it.
***
That night was even worse considering the two of you were still rooming together.
Alex refused to look in your direction and you refused to look in hers, making the situation even more awkward.
“Look.” Alex started, causing you to turn her way, when your eyes locked, she fell silent.
“This was easier when you weren’t looking at me.”
Your eyes widen momentarily before you turn away.
“Alright Morgan, go ahead.”
Alex huffs.
“I’m sorry about last night, I didn’t mean to, ummm...”
You chance a glance her way, smirking when you see how flushed her cheeks are.
“What?” Alex asks when she sees the smirk on your face and you shrug.
“Nothing.”
You fish your Nintendo Switch out of your bag and nod towards your bed.
“Let’s go Morgan, or are you too shy to Smash now?” You ask, a brow arched and Alex scoffs.
“Not a chance.”
***
It’s an hour into playing that it happens, though neither you, or Alex realized it was happening until your shoulders brush.
You both stiffen, your eyes widening, though neither of you dare look at the other.
Something else neither of you do though is scoot away from one another, your shoulders still brushing.
You clear your throat, your body untensing as you settle back against the pillow behind you, the feel of Alex’s blue orbs boring into you making goosebumps sprout on your flesh.
“Come on Morgan, head in the game.”
You miss the tiny smile that adorns Alex’s face as she focuses on the screen before you, though what you don’t miss is the brush of her leg against yours.
The inevitable of course happens when you feel Alex’s head rest on your shoulder, the woman fighting her fluttering eyelids.
You glance at the nearly unconscious woman on your shoulder and snort.
“Lay down Morgan.” You smile, the forward grumbling.
“But I don’t want to get up...”
You roll your eyes, taking her controller and laying your Switch on the table between your beds.
You wiggle until your head hits the pillow behind you, which results in Alex’s head falling onto your chest, the forward’s eyes widening.
You remain silent, waiting for her to make the next move, when she cuddles into your side, your cheeks flush, that flush spreading to the tips of your ears.
“Is this, okay?” Alex asks in a hushed whisper and you smile.
“It is.”
***
The two of you sharing a bed becomes a regular thing, so much so that Alex’s bed remains untouched 95% of the time, usually housing your luggage instead of Alex like it should be.
The rivalry you had on the field soon disappeared, something that came as a shock to literally everyone, even Vlatko.
You knew what you felt for Alex wasn’t friendship, it went well beyond that, your hatred for her turned into something you never ever expect, and that was love.
You loved Alex Morgan and there was no going back.
***
You were pissed, absolutely pissed, and how could you not be when no fouls were being called against Canada?
Fouls that were currently being directed at #13, Alex Morgan.
You snarl when yet again, Alex is taken down in the box, but YET AGAIN, the foul isn’t called.
“COME ON!” You yell, stomping towards the downed forward whose hand you take before you pull her to her feet.
“Are you okay?” You ask worriedly as you scan the forward who nods.
“Yeah, I’m okay.” She smiles and you nod.
“She better call the fouls or I swear-
The whistle blows and you growl.
“Nothing but a right bitch that one.” You mumble before jogging away, missing the snort that Alex lets out, the forward shaking her head.
Her cheeks flush from more than exertion when she realizes your anger that’s directed at the ref is because the fouls have been directed solely on her, considering she was the only one being fouled.
And that was about to happen yet again, but this time, Alex wasn’t going to get up.
***
The look on your face was one of pure horror when Alex went down with a cry, the Canadian player’s cleats digging into her skin, soaking her socked ankle with blood.
The whistle blows loudly, the ref finally carding the player who’d fouled Alex with a red card, but that wasn’t good enough for you, not when Alex was currently bleeding.
Alex watches from her place on the ground as you advance on the player in red, landing a right hook that would make any boxer jealous, the woman falling to the ground with a thud.
Time literally stands still, your knuckles throbbing in pain as the player cups her cheek, her eyes wide as she stares up at you in shock.
“OFF THE FIELD! NOW!” The ref yells, the woman producing a red card immediately and holding it high above her head.
“Bugger off, wanker.” You mumble as you make your way towards Alex, who’s currently surrounded by the medical team.
“What the hell did you do that for!?” She growls at you and you frown.
“I-
You glance around, watching as the Canadian player, you were so angry you didn’t know her name, is aided off field, the woman still clasping her cheek.
Your mouth opens and closes a few times, the taste of bile on the back of your tongue.
Deep down, you knew why your reaction had been so visceral, but you couldn’t tell Alex that could you?
So instead, you decided to do the only thing you could do, and that was turn on your heels and sprint towards the nearest exit.
***
Alex frowns as you sprint towards the exit, leaving her and the team behind.
The medical team hoists her to her feet, the woman limping off field, the fans clapping in respect for the USWNT player as the final whistle blows.
The second Alex gets off field though she pulls away from the medical team, choosing instead to limp after you, the forward hoping she wasn’t too late and was able to catch you.
Alex limped down the tunnel and rushed towards the nearest exit, hoping it was the exit you’d went through in your haste to put distance between the two of you.
She rounds the corner, a sigh of relief leaving her when she sees you marching down the sidewalk, away from her.
“Y/N!” She yells, causing you to stop in your tracks.
The dark clouds overhead that had been teasing rain all day had finally opened the proverbial floodgates, the soft sprinkles becoming somewhat of a downpour in literal moments.
Slowly, you turn around to face the forward who’s advancing on you, the woman limping as quickly as she can, closing the distance between the two of you.
You swallow hard, unable to look the woman in the eye as she tries catching your gaze,
“Y/N?! What was that!?” She yells, pointing back at the field and you shake your head.
“What was that!?” She yells again and you swallow hard.
“She was on your ass the entire game Al, and no one was calling the fouls! I had to do something!” You yell over the heavily pouring rain, the nickname slipping unknowingly off your tongue.
“That’s not your job, Y/N.” She frowns and you scoff.
“So, I’m just supposed to watch her hurt you? Watch her make you bleed!?” You cry, the feel of frustrated tears welling up in your eyes.
“Why does it matter so much to you!?” She asks, and you shake your head.
“Because I love you!”
Alex stiffens, as do you, your eyes widening in horror when you realize what you’d just said.
Your mouth opens and closes, the taste of bile on the back of your tongue as you take a step back from the injured USWNT forward.
Alex reaches out for you, her fingertips brushing the back of your hand.
“Y/N...” She whispers, taking a step towards you.
You’re about to take a step back when she grabs your wrist, effectively holding you in place, you weren’t about to jerk away, fearful that you may hurt her.
You swallow hard when she steps even closer, the distance between you closing as her chest brushes your own.
“Say it again.”
You shake your head as you turn away, though when Alex’s fingers intertwine with yours, you turn back towards her, the woman’s blue orbs focused on your hand in hers.
“Say it again...”
You shake your head, a lump forming in your throat.
“Alex-
“Please Y/N.” She whispers as she tucks a strand of hair, that had been stuck to your face, behind your ear.
You blink rapidly, Alex’s fingers tracing your jawline before she cups your cheek.
Your mouth opens and closes a few times before you find your voice.
“I-I...” You stammer, your eyes shutting as you swallow.
“I love you, Alex, and I think I always have I just-
You stiffen, your eyes wide and hands hovering in the air as Alex’s lips meet yours in a tentative, first kiss.
Just as your eyes flutter shut the team rounds the corner, their eyes widening before they turn Christen and Ali, the two smirking as they bump their shoulders together.
“We told you.”
Meanwhile your hands find purchase on Alex’s waist, the woman pulling back only to lean right back in, the brush of her lips sending a jolt throughout your entire body.
A crack of lightning makes the two of you jump, though neither of you pull back, your lips brushing as the two of you smile, toothy grins on full display.
Alex’s forehead rests against yours, her hair stuck to her face thanks to the water entirely soaking the two of you.
The reasonable members of the team usher the chaotics back into the arena, leaving you and Alex alone, the two of you so wrapped up in one another you hadn’t noticed them anyway.
Your tongue swipes at your lips, your Y/E/C orbs focused intently on Alex’s.
“When did you know?” Alex asks, her voice pulling you out of your trance, your cheeks flushing.
“Know what?” You ask dumbly, earning a look that says Alex knows you’re just playing dumb.
You sigh.
“The first time you yelled at me during a match in college.”
Alex’s brows arch.
“It was cute.”
Alex scoffs.
“It wasn’t meant to be cute.”
You shrug.
“Well, it was to me, and I was right smitten.”
Alex’s lips split into a massive grin, the woman leaning in to bump her nose playfully against yours.
“Your nose crinkles up when you’re angry.” She giggles and you bite your bottom lip, your cheeks dusted pink.
Alex tilts her head back, kissing the tip of your nose, your lips splitting into a grin.
“I guess we better get back in there...” Alex sighs and you huff.
“I guess so.”
Alex reluctantly takes a step back before she turns around, the two of you walking back to the door that led back into the arena.
Before Alex can make her way through the tunnel, you grab her wrist, giving her a gentle tug until she’s back in your arms again, your nose brushing hers.
“I never ACTUALLY hated you.” You whisper softly, giving her wrist a squeeze.
Alex smiles, the forward closing the distance between you with a feather light kiss, her lips feeling as if they barely brush your own.
“And I never ACTUALLY hated you either.”
You cup Alex’s cheek, the woman’s blue orbs disappearing behind her fluttering eyelids as she leans into your touch.
It’s in that moment when you spot them out of the corner of your eye, a snort sounding in the back of your throat as you watch your teammates scramble to make themselves scarce.
Alex follows your gaze, the woman rolling her eyes in annoyance when she spots your nosy teammates.
“Idiots.”
You wrap your arms around her from behind, pulling the woman close, your chin resting on her shoulder.
“So, you yell at them, and I watch? I bet it’s even cuter when you’re yelling at someone else.” You grin, grunting when Alex elbows you in the stomach.
“It’s not cute when I’m angry.” She pouts and you grin, shrugging.
“Actually, it’s adorable.”
Alex growls, a furrow forming between her brows as she tries, and fails to scowl at you.
“Still so infuriating.” She grumbles, the woman about to turn away, but before she can you catch her lips, unable to bite back a smile as the two of you kiss.
“I’m so infuriating, but you still smitten, aren’t you love?” You ask and she rolls her eyes, her cheeks flushed red.
She gives your shoulder a playful slap and you snicker.
Looking into the pools of blue that are Alex Morgan’s eyes, you knew coming to the US was the best decision you’d ever made.
You lean in, tilting your head back to press a kiss to her forehead.
“What do you say we go kill our nosy teammates now?” You ask with a grin and Alex takes your hand, intertwining your fingers.
“Lead the way.”
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yeah honestly i can never recall a time where deku came out of a situation the loser, even when he loses physically he usually reaches his goal/has the moral high ground. for example all might himself says this with the "deku looked up to katsuki's power and determination (positive) vs katsuki feared deku's spirit (negative)" line. like it's obvious who the one who needs more improvement is. i can count very few times where he ultimately did the wrong thing.
and i mean a character like him is hard to develop, because his whole schtick is that he possessed heroic spirit but not the power to back it up. he starts the series with all the character traits he needs to have, because that's the reason all might picked him in the first place.
and i understand that eventually his self destructive tendencies will be addressed, but it's a flaw (one of the few sometimes painted as such) that's been with him since the very beginning, and three hundred chapters later a poor job has been done of addressing it imo, because it hasn't been addressed at all.
if anything the series keeps sending mixed signals, because it's always like "hooo no break bones little green boi bones breaky bad" but then every time he does break his bones it ends with him the winner. the closest he comes to a repercussion is when he's a dead weight at the camp, but even then he takes down muscular solo, and he couldn't have just run away with kouta, since that would mean a wild murder happy muscular running around. what else could he have done there? and the doctors are like "if you keep breaking your arms they will literally become unusable confetti" but instead of having him stop doing that, the series finds ways to bypass the repercussions, like oh look here, convenient overpowered time girl who will rewind you just enough to undo ur self-harm in an instant! it's like the narrative keeps telling deku, self harm is the answer!! and even after kacchan says 'don't be fucking dumb' the vestiges still go 'yes boy self harm is the answer!!" and AM feeds into that too by virtue of existing, since that dude's whole deal was self-depravation in the name of greater good.
and ive said all this, and you're 300 chapters into a series and you've got an mc whose outlook has changed in a pretty tiny way outside of gaining confidence, whose flaws have not been addressed because the series isn't sure if the flaws are actually virtues and isn't sure if willingness to self-harm in order to win is a heroic trait or not.
but then, you could say that this is actually a genius character arc, because this self-destruction will only take you so far, and with izuku winning everything,his mind has just grown convinced that "self harm and self-sacrifice is the answer!!!" until well, it isn't. sure he dealt with the small fries through it, but it's not sustainable, and it's how at least two of his predecessors died/retired.
PLW was the first instance of deku seeing that his bogus self-harm doesn't always end well. he was doing a poor job of collaborating with everyone else there, and katsuki had to literally almost die to keep him from dying due to recklessness. for the first time in forever, his mentality made him not just a dead-weight, but a danger teammates need to sacrifice themselves to cover for.
and im like 🤯 because it took 300 chapters but we've just watched OFA all might's ideologically slowly dismantled for how toxic it is and i have no idea what im even saying anymore.
the point is, izuku is a dear character to me and the perfect mc for the series,but his arc leaves me conflicted because i cannot decide if it's genius or nearly non-existent and it drives me crazy
You’re 100% right
I think Dekus character arc problem is that Hori lets his characters develop in a pretty organic way
Most (if not all) the other characters are pressured into changing because their problems get in the way of their goals, aren’t sustainable, and are condemned by society
So they get addressed because the only way around them is through
Meanwhile Deku “fuck the natural order” Midoriya’s-
-main character flaw’s only true obstacle is that it isn’t sustainable, but because the flaw is self sacrifice sustainability isn’t a top concern for him, getting to the next fight would be cool but saving people here and now is what matters
He keeps achieving his goals through this manner, so unless his goals change this isn’t an obstacle
Society praises this behavior until the lack of sustainability catches up and the hero is no longer useful
So as of now the only way he could be forced to confront this flaw is if the sustainability runs out, then everyone’s fucked and we all drown in our tears
But if something or someone forced him to reconsider his goals just a twinge, forced him to care about something other than just saving/winning, made him want to be a little selfish and a lot more self preserving, made him value what he could get from life instead of just what he could give to it
Well than his flaw would suddenly be a very big obstacle to his goals, if his self sacrificing was hurting someone close to him societal values would from on it a little more. If Deku wanted something off the battlefield as badly as he did on it he’d have a new obstacle
And Bakugo was getting dangerously close,
So Deku left.
#softy answers#Deku: I can’t imagine a world without him#Deku: but I’ve always been more of a hands on learner
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Wings
Captain American fanfic. Not cannon.
The shouting wakes you up with a start, and before your brain can catch up, your body is moving, throwing your only pair of jeans on, grabbing your sneakers and your backpack and racing for the door. Years of running had taught you to always be prepared. But fuck you, if you weren’t thrown off by the sight of…aliens?! invading the shitty pay by the week hotel you were camped out at. Making a quick decision, you head for the fire escape. And dammit, of course the windows are painted shut. Cheap bastards. You grab the closest thing to you, a chair, and hurl it through the window, following after it seconds later, making your descent.
And you’ve made it to the third floor when you saw the little girl. The little girl who was being held in a rapidly burning apartment by a scaly looking alien. And nope. Not your problem. But you freeze. “Fuuuck,” you mutter before throwing your weight into the window, reaching for the knife that you always keep tucked in between your shoulder blades. The alien hisses at you as you charge at it. The knife slashes its scaly skin, and your reward is a green ooze that sprays across your face. Trying not to gag, and knowing that you had done very little actual damage to the beast, you grab the little girl, sling her over your shoulder and head for the door; the alien blocking your path to the window. “Shit. Shit. Shit,” you hiss as you run down the rickety stairs of the hotel. You did not sign up for this. You just wanted a place to sleep, dammit. The lobby was swarming with…superheroes? What the hell? Shaking your head, and hoping to slide by unnoticed, you take to the edges of the room.
“Veronica! Oh my…! Baby!” a babbling woman exclaims, running towards you. She reeks of meth. The acrid cat piss smell stings your nose as she reaches for the kid on your back. You pull away hostilely.
“Hell no, Lady! Who the fuck are you?!”
“I’m her mom! Veronica, honey, come to Mommy,” she slurs, arms outstretched. And gods help her, the kid reaches out to the woman, just in time for you to see a fight coming your way. A large blonde dude in…chainmail? And a red robot guy are leading a huge alien straight down your path.
“Oh, for fucks sake,” you mutter, slinging the kid off of your shoulder and passing her to the woman. “Get your shit together, Woman. And run!” you order, shoving the two out of the way as a wall of muscle slams you into the wall. You hear a sickening crunch as you slide to the floor. But you don’t have long to rest as you see another alien heading towards the first. Struggling to your feet, you reach for a nearby crowd control bar and swing it into the gut of the alien. He hunches over before straightening and looking right at you. Well, shit. You had not thought that through. The alien swipes one hand toward you, cutting your cheek open and making you see red. “You fucker,” you swear, grabbing a sharp shard of glass to your left and charging at the creature, throwing your body weight into it, knocking it to the ground, where you stab and stab and stab, until strong hand lift you under your armpits. It's the blonde knight guy.
“That will be enough, Child. Get to safety,” he commands, putting you on your feet a few yards away.
“Chi-Child?! I am not a child! And I would be in safety if you assholes hadn’t come in here wrecking up the joint!” The man only bellows a laugh and turns away from you. You throw your hands up. “Whatever, I’m out of here.” And that’s when you’re swept off of your feet again, this time very high up. You look to see what has a death grip on your back, and well…it’s not good. A scaly alien sneers down at the crowd.
“Where’s your captain now?!” he gloats.
“Right here, Wise guy,” comes a voice, just as a shield is hurled you. You see the ground coming up to meet you, and you question how, you, of all people, would die by hitting the ground. But someone catches you midair. A large green man smiles evilly at you before gently placing you on the ground. “Nat, get her out of here,” the voice that had challenged the alien orders, and Apollo feels her hand get taken by another one, and she looks up to see two things; one, the most beautiful woman she has ever seen; and two, a spear coming right toward them. Letting out a yelp, she dives in front of the woman, feeling the hot searing pain radiate down her side as the spear finds its mark.
“Well, shit,” you say, crumpling to the ground.
…
“Experimented on?” a voice questions as Apollo comes around.
“I think so, Cap. She’s littered in scars.” That’s when all of you senses come back to you. The smell of chemicals makes you sick to your stomach. You know that smell. The sanitary stench of a hospital. You jolt, vaulting off of the bed, landing solidly on your feet, facing the voices you heard, back to the nearest wall. And without your bidding, as they always do; some weird protective reflex; your wings unfurl from under your skin, the familiar burn that always accompanies them following closely behind. You crouch, making eye contact with…
“Captain Fucking America?” you exclaim.
“Language,” he chides. He’s one of the good guys. Well, at least you think so. But those types of guys had failed you before. Despite your adrenaline draining, and your wings tugging themselves back under your skin to rest along the back of your ribs, you resist. You don't know you're safe. You never know if you're safe. “What’s your name?” he entreats. You violently shake your head.
“Where’s my stuff? I’m leaving.”
“Hey, wait. Come on. We won’t hurt you here, Kid.” You bark a laugh.
“I’ve heard that before.”
“You’re still pretty roughed up,” he points out, and yeah, you know, the dull thud of pain when you breathe tells you that much.
“I heal quick. Perks of being like this,” you reply, softly rustling the bottom feathers on your grey and black ombre wings.
“You know, this is fascinating,” the other man speaks, stepping forward. A sharp snap of your wings warns him off. You usually have to hide your little secret, but now that the cat’s…bird’s? out of the bag, you feel like you can use them to your advantage. The guy in the glasses holds up his hands. “I’m Bruce. I’m a doctor.” When you recoil more violently at the comment, he frowns.
“Doc, why don’t you give us a minute?” the captain asks gently.
“Cap, she’s…”
“I know,” was the simple reply. You feel the blood leaking freely from your wound. You know that whatever they’d done to patch you up, hadn’t stuck. Might’ve if you had gone guns a blazing, but nonetheless, you know that you’re bleeding. And you know that while you do heal fast, you had been dealt and death blow, and you are damn lucky to be here. You also know that you have very little strength left in you, and that shit right there, that scares you more than anything. The doctor leaves. Without your permission, your wings retract, and you flop to the floor. The captain scoops you up seconds later. “Listen, I don’t know who hurt you. Or why they hurt you. But no one will ever touch you again. You’re safe here. And I know you don’t know me from Adam, but you can trust me. Now, I’m going to stay with you while the doc patches you up, then I’m going to get you cleaned up. And you’re going to get some rest. When you’re healed, if you still want to leave, I won’t stop you. Ok?”
How could you tell Captain America no?
…
The captain has you slung over his arms, bridal style, and he’s carrying you to his suite in the Avenger’s tower. He sits you softly on the edge of the sink as he runs a bath. Your body is sagging with exhaustion. You hadn’t slept more than two hours in months and hadn’t eaten real food in longer than that. And it’s getting to you. So, when the kind captain begins to lift your shirt over your head, you simply hold your arms up. He looks at you hesitantly, and you chuckle tiredly. “They don’t come out unless I need them,” you inform. He nods silently and rids you of the hospital scrubs tied loosely around your waist before lifting you and placing you in the warm water. His hands are gentle as they run over your scarred back.
“Who?” he asks quietly.
“Doctors. Scientists. Nuns. You name it. Being an orphan that’s…special, is a rough life.”
“Why?”
You shrug, sighing as he tilts your head back to wash your long cherry cola hair.
“You were a kid.”
“A kid with wings,” you correct, grabbing his arm for stability as he leans you further back.
“I gotcha,” he promises, holding you steady as he lathers your hair. “How did you get away?”
“I fought. They caught me a few times. But I always managed to escape again. It’s been two…no, three years since they found me. I’m honestly just waiting for the other shoe to drop before the lab coats converge again.”
“We won’t let them take you again. You have my word…”
“Apollo,” you supply.
“Apollo. That’s a pretty neat name,” he smiles down at you.
“It was Mary Catherine St. John. Orphanage named me when I was found. As an orphan, you get to choose what you want to be called when you turn 10. And I chose Apollo. Because they flew.” Your eyes had begun to droop.
“Well, I like Apollo much better. Ok, up we go,” he urged, helping you sit up. He lifts you from the water, swiftly wrapping a towel around you. You look at the bathwater in shame. It’s nearly brown from the filth that came off of your body. The captain slips on of his shirts over your head and scoops you up again. You are nearly asleep when he places you on the bed.
…
“She’s not a superhero,” Tony Stark argues the next morning. “She’s a human kid.”
“Actually,” you interject, forcing your wings to the surface. “I’m neither a kid, or completely human.” You sit, wings still spread, and finish your bacon. Tony stares at you, mouth agape. You roll your eyes.
“Oh, for fuck’s sake, you can touch them. You too, Doc,” you huff. Cap scowls at your language. “Also, I didn’t ask to be part of the Super Squad,” you add, reaching for more toast.
“That’s true. She didn’t. But, she is part of the team, whether she goes on missions or not,” Steve Rogers says, sipping his coffee.
“You can’t make those decisions!” Tony exclaims, pulling a little too roughly on one of Apollo’s feathers.
“Ow, Dick,” you mutter, flicking him.
“I’m the captain. I decide who’s on the team. And I say Apollo is.” There’s no room for argument, but when Tony opens his mouth to try, Natasha slaps his shoulder and shakes her head.
And that’s how you, freaky little bird/orphan/science experiment that you are, become an Avenger.
…
“Bucky? His name is Bucky?” you clarify. Because who names their kid Bucky.
“Yes. And he’s my best friend,” Cap replies. And you pout, cuz you’re supposed to be his best friend.
“Oh,” you answer softly, deftly stepping around the crack in the sidewalk.
“Hey. Come on, you’re my best girl,” Steve replies, chucking you under the chin. And as always, the words make your tummy do weird little flip flops.
“I don’t know how amenable Tony’s gonna be to you taking in the supersoldier who’s been trying to kill us for the last few days now.”
“That’s why we’re not gonna ask him,” he says simply, shrugging his shoulders.
…
You’re hurt. You know you’re hurt. But dammit, you have to find Cap. Sam was fine. Well, fine-ish, so now, you needed to find your leader. Letting your wings spread, you take to the air, scanning the ground for him. Until you spot him. He’s being dragged out of the river by that guy. The Winter Soldier. Bucky. You swoop down, feet landing lightly on the gravel shore. Bucky roughly drops Cap, gives you a scornful study, and takes off in the other direction, not once speaking to you. And injured though you might be, you limp to Cap, wrap your arms around his torso, and let your wings push hard against the atmosphere, lifting you into the sky. And damn, man. Who knew supersoldiers weighed so damn much. You make it to the tower, depositing Cap with a grunt, as your legs crumple beneath you, and you fall next to him on the roof.
…
Sam is off somewhere laying low, but you and Cap are never apart. Keeping your faces hidden, and staying on the move so Tony doesn’t find you. But Natasha does. And seeing her blatant flirting with Cap sets you on edge for some reason. So, while they’re on their little recon mission, you unfurl your wings and take to the sky, letting the wind catch the bottoms of your wings and lift you higher until you’re soaring, eyes closed. You land around dusk, making a small bed for yourself in the leaves under a maple tree and settle in. You’ll find Cap soon enough, but for now, he has Natasha. Your sleep is fitful to say the least, but the coolness of the night feels good against your skin.
∞
“You don’t understand, Nat. Apollo wouldn’t just leave. She knows that I need her safe.”
“Steve,” Natasha says softly, resting a hand on his shoulder as he huddles in Sam’s kitchen. “I’m sure everything is alright. Apollo is a good kid. Smart. She’ll come back.”
“Or Tony will find her. What then, Natasha? You think he won’t kill her for choosing my side?”
“Tony wouldn’t kill a kid, Steve. You know that.”
“Do I?”
…
Steve waits until Natasha is asleep before leaving the house, determined to find his girl.
∞
It’s nearing sunrise, when the nightmare finally jolts you awake. Instinctively, you reach for Cap. But he’s not there. You haven’t had to deal with nightmares alone in a long time, and you suddenly can’t breathe. You tuck yourself into a ball and sob against your knees, wishing Cap were with you.
∞
You’d once told him that you could only fly roughly 20 miles a day, so Steve was banking on those calculations when he began his search. The radius takes him to a large city on one side, and the mountains on the other. And he knows you wouldn’t choose the city, so he decides that the mountains would be his best bet. “Borrowing” a motorcycle from a townie, he makes his way to the mountains. 200 square miles. But come hell or high water, he will find you. He has to.
∞
The sobs have turned to whimpers by the time the sound of a motorcycle appears. You can only curl tighter, knowing that you are most certainly not in fighting shape at the moment.
“Apollo?” comes the query. And you let out a wail. Because Cap is here. He found you. “Baby, are you hurt? Did you fall?” his voice is panicked, and his footsteps are racing towards you. He gently scoops you up, cradling you to his chest. You bury your face in his neck, sobbing wetly. “Hey, shh. It’s ok. I’m here, Darlin’. Everything’s ok now.” He leans against the tree, putting you on his lap, chest to chest, as he scans you for any obvious signs of injury. “You scared me to death, Apollo. Why’d you leave me like that?”
“Was-was gonna come back. Needa- needa be alone.”
“But you don’t like being alone, do you, Baby?” you vigorously shake your head, clutching at him. When did you become such a pussy? You’d been alone your whole life. Why did you suddenly need someone now?
Because it’s Cap the unhelpful part of your brain answers.
Cap places a firm hand under your chin, forcing you to look up at him. “Promise me, Apollo. Promise me you won’t do this again.”
“Pr-Promise. Don’t wanna leave Cap,” you swear. He gives you a gentle smile and places a kiss between your eyes.
“That’s my good girl. Now, when we get to Sam’s, you’re gonna tell me what’s got you so upset, then you’re gonna get your punishment and get some sleep. We got a lead today, and I’m not going without you.” You nod, letting him lift you and get on the bike, you still clinging to his neck. The word “punishment” doesn’t hit you until you’re almost to Sam’s.
…
“Thank gawd you found her!” Sam exclaims when you and Cap walk through the front door. Then he scoops you into a hug. After squeezing the breath out of you, Sam pulls away, ruffling your hair and reaching for his cup of coffee. Natasha gives you a smile, which you nod at, taking Cap’s hand back securely in your own. Her smile widens, and she gives you a nod, turning back to her paper.
“Sam, mind if we use your room for a bit? Apollo and I have a conversation that needs to happen,” Cap inquires. Sam waves you on dismissively. Cap leads you to the back of the house, shutting the door behind him. He sits on the bed, positioning you in front of him. “Now, Apollo, I never wanted to have to do this to you. But you’re mine, and I’m responsible for you. You made a mistake last night, didn’t you?” You nod, suddenly finding your shoes very interesting. “Words, Apollo.”
“Yes, sir,” you reply, feeling like the formality is needed.
“And you promised you won’t do it again. And I believe you, but I need to make sure you remember what’ll happen if you do. But first, you’re going to tell me why you left, AND why you were so upset when I found you.” Your lip wobbles. You definitely do not want to do any of that. “I’m waiting, Apollo,” he urges after your continued silence.
“I…I was upset,” you state, hoping it’ll be enough, but also knowing it won’t be.
“About?” You dig your toe into the carpet.
“Natasha.”
“Did Natasha do or say something bad to you?” he prods. You shake your head.
“She…You like her more than me.” You squeeze your eyes shut in humiliation. Because never in your 20 years, have you ever felt like more of a moron.
“Aww, Baby. That isn’t true. You’re my best girl. You know that.” You sniffle, opening your mouth to further your slide into mortification.
“But she’s prettier than me, and she’s older. And she knows more stuff. I can barely read.” Well, that wasn’t entirely true anymore, Cap had taught you how to read. “And she…she kept making you laugh and flirting with you. And you don’t need me anymore now that she’s here. She’s way better…” Cap lunges forward, pulling your chin up so he can look into his eyes. Blue eyes that shine with anger and passion.
“That is absolutely not true. I will always need you. You are the most beautiful girl that I have ever laid my eyes on. You’re smart as a whip, and I’d rather have you covering my six any day of the week. Don’t you ever say those things about yourself again, Apollo. I won’t have anyone speak badly about you, not even you.” He gives your chin one more squeeze before stepping away again. “Why were you crying, out there in the woods?”
“I-I had a nightmare, and you weren’t there to hold-hold me. And I was sc-scared.” He hums, stroking your cheek.
“In this family. Our family, we talk things through, Apollo. We don’t run away. And we certainly don’t put ourselves in danger. What you did was reckless, and it terrified me. And now, I’m going to give you your punishment and put you to bed because you’re drooping with exhaustion, and you need rest.” You nod solemnly.
“Pants down and over my lap,” he orders. “Ten swats. No arguing.” And it’s said with such finality that you know he won’t budge. So, steeling yourself, you unzip your jeans and step out of them, kicking your shoes off with them. You stretch yourself over Cap’s lap and brace against his right thigh. “Thank you for not making this harder,” he praises, rubbing a soothing hand against the small of your back, where he’s hiked your shirt up.
And by the fifth swat, you’re absolutely sobbing. Snot is coating Cap’s jeans and your face. And you’re a mess. Immediately after the tenth, Cap scoops you into his arms, shushing you and kissing your temple. “Such a good girl,” he praises. “Always my good girl.”
Once you’ve mostly calmed down, Cap carries you to the bathroom, where he sits you on the sink and wipes your overheated face with a cool towel. Then, just as promised, he carries you to bed, tucking you under the covers and rubbing your back until you’re asleep.
…
“There’s no way in hell that 2 supersoldiers, 2 bird people, and a feisty red head are going to fit in this car,” you complain.
“Language, Apollo. Bucky, let Apollo sit on your lap,” Cap commands, sliding behind the wheel.
“Excuse me? That sounds unsafe and uncomfortable. No offense, Bucky.” Cap rolls his eyes.
“Buck, make sure she’s secure. Apollo, enough with the sass. Get in.” Sighing, you comply, sliding onto Bucky’s thick thighs. His arm wraps around your waist.
“Steve, drop me at the airport,” Natasha demands. You frown. She’s been acting sketchy.
“Taking a trip, Nat?”
“I need to keep Tony off of your trail for now. I can’t hold him off long.”
“Convenient,” you mumble, eliciting a chuckle from Bucky and a stern look from Cap.
…
“Dammit, Cap. I told you she was no good!” you rage, flapping your wings and scouting the ground below for escape routes for the rest of the team. Natasha had turned on all of you, going to Tony. So now, here you were, neck deep in shit; Clint hold up in a rooftop; Sam scratched to hell and back from one of his own wings failing; and you, Bucky, and Cap just trying to make it out alive. You know that if they catch Bucky, they will kill him. And the thought makes your gut twist. Cap had told you story after story of Bucky and their friendship, so even before you met him, you felt like you knew him. And now, he feels like an extension of you, much like Cap.
“Apollo, not now!” Cap barks.
“Fine, but women know these things. Veer left!” you yell, suddenly spotting a way out. Without question, they follow the order. “To your right! See it?! See the tunnel?!” Then suddenly a burning pain ricochets through your side. Immediately clamping a hand to it, you glance down. Your fingers are coated in blood. Those bastards shot you! “Fuck, ok, guys, I’m hit. I’m not going to be able to fly much longer. Keep going. The tunnel…” Your vision is blurring as another pain shoots through your hip. Then your arm. Then your thigh. Finally, something rips through your wing. And you know that’s it. You’re going down. You can hear Cap and Bucky yelling for you as you spiral down towards the ground. “Keep going,” you hiss one last time, landing roughly on a hill, rolling to the bottom.
∞
“Apollo!” he yells through the comm. “Dammit, answer me!” They haven’t stopped running.
“Steve, we gotta go find her!” Bucky shouts, making to turn around.
“NO! Keep going! Find us transport! I’ll find Apollo!” Bucky looks uncertain but nods, heading towards the tunnel. Steve turns on his heel. “Apollo, Baby, can you hear me?” Silence follows. “I’m coming, Doll. I’ll be right there.” He runs, making calculations in his head of where you had been heading. He’s nearly losing his mind when he finally spots you at the bottom of a steep hill. “Apollo!” He slides down the hill, landing next to you at the bottom. And what he sees makes him want to vomit. One of your beautiful wings is nearly severed, you’re covered in blood, and your breaths are shallow. He leans over you, brushing a hair behind your ear. “Oh, Baby,” he breathes. He begins to scoop you up. And your wings begin to retract, almost as if they can sense that you’re safe now. But the injured one snaps and falls limply to the ground. You jolt in his arms. And he steels himself against the tears that are determined to fall.
“Steve, I’ve got a Jeep! Meet me outside the tunnel when you find her!” Bucky’s voice exclaims in his ear.
“On my way, Buck,” the captain replies solemnly. He carries you, cradled to his chest until he reaches the Jeep.
“Shit,” Bucky hisses. Steve slides in the vehicle, holding Apollo close as Bucky peels out of the place. “What are we gonna do, Steve? She looks bad.” Steve’s always believed in God, and even now, ever since he lost your voice over the comm, he’s been praying. But a thought hits him.
“THOR!” he exclaims loudly, making Bucky jump.
“What the hell, Steve?!”
“Thor! If you can hear me, man, we really need you!” Steve continues shouting into the sky.
“Who the hell…” A sudden burst of lightning causes Bucky to swerve, barely missing Thor, who has landed in the middle of the road. He throws the door open and rushes from the vehicle, Apollo still caged in his arms.
“Thor, you have to help her!” Thor who had been smiling, frowns at the sight of Apollo. The demi-god nods.
“We shall take her to Asgard. The healers will help her.”
“Buck, let’s go!” the captain shouts. Bucky, to his credit, follows his friend’s order, despite being confused as hell. Thor holds the troupe close as he takes them back to his home.
…
“I believe her other wing will heal, Captain,” a healer informs him hours later.
“Heal? It fell off,” Steve reminds.
“Yes, but I believe with time, it will regrow.”
“And the other injuries?”
“Yes. We are working on the young bird-girl. She will live.” Steve curls his lips in distaste at her description of you, but doesn’t say anything.
∞
You feel a dull throbbing throughout your body as you open your eyes. Cap’s blonde head is resting gently on your arm.
“Cap,” you rasp. His head immediately jerks up.
“Apollo,” he sighs in relief. “Babygirl, I was so scared. How do you feel?”
“Buzzy,” you answer truthfully. Steve laughs.
“The healers fixed the most of the damage, so it’s probably the magic.”
“Healers?”
“Buck and I brought you to Asgard. Thor had his best healers work on you.”
“I’m in Asgard?!” you exclaim, struggling to sit up.
“Hey, hey. Stay still. You’re not completely out of the woods yet,” he demands, gently easing you back on to the bed.
“But, Dude, we’re in Asgard! I can’t stay in this bed all day while I’m on another planet!” You hear a husky chuckle from the other side of the room and look up to see Bucky smiling at you.
“Glad to see you awake,” he states, coming forward.
“Hey, Buck. I see you guys made it out ok. The winged wonder strikes again,” you joke, but both men duck their heads. “What?” you demand.
“Apollo, when you were shot…You…” Cap began.
“I what?!” your stomach is beginning to sink.
“You lost one of your wings.” And no! Because they were part of you. Fuck knows many scientists had tried to rip them out of you before, but they were still there.
“No,” you deny on a whisper.
“The healers think it’ll grow back,” Cap says, gently stroking your cheek.
“My wing?” you still can’t wrap your head around it. It couldn’t just be gone.
“Yes, Baby,” Steve says, kissing your forehead. Bucky clears his throat.
“I’m gonna leave you two alone for a bit,” he adds, leaning to kiss your cheek and leaving the room. Cap simply draws you into his arms, whispering sweet words in your ear until you fall into a teary sleep.
…
You convalesce on Asgard for nearly two weeks, before Thor takes you back to Earth. In that time, despite their best efforts, Cap and Bucky can’t get you out of your grief. You had lost something that at once you had hated, but now knew was the only reliable thing you had ever had. And sure, the healers thought it would grow back, but it wouldn’t be the same. It would never be the same.
…
Cap had helped you shower and was now taking off his boots at the end of the bed. The safe house you guys are in Berlin is nice. It’s clean, and has an amazing view. But you haven’t spent much time outside of the bed, so you haven’t even explored the place yet.
“Ok. That’s it,” Cap sighs. You look up at him as he approaches. “I haven’t seen that smile in two weeks. And it’s killing me.” He slides into the bed, facing you, framing you with his legs. “Talk to me, Darlin’. Tell me what’s going through that pretty little head of yours. Let Daddy make it better.” You two had never really discussed it before, but the title suited him. He took care of you. Held you when you were sad. Rocked you to sleep when you had had a nightmare. Bathed you. Spoiled you. Loved you. Still, you can’t help the tear that rolls down your face.
“My w-wing,” you whimper pathetically.
“Oh, Sweetheart,” he coos, drawing you into his chest. “I know it’s so hard for you, Angel. But it’s all gonna be ok. I’m here. Bucky’s here. And you’re wing will come back.”
“But-But it won’t be the same!” you wail. You hadn’t cried a tear since the first night in Asgard, but you need to let it out.
“Shh. Shh. It’s ok. It’s ok.” And he rocks you. He rocks you until your sobs silence and your breathing evens. And then, he tips your chin up, meeting your eyes as his lifts land softly onto yours. And you have your first kiss, courtesy of Captain America, himself.
“Let me help you feel better, Baby.”
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I'm Not Over You //Ben Hardy x Reader (Part 9)
A/N: All the fact checking had me reeling to be honest and this is one long-ass chapter, longer than the one where I said 'it's the longest I've written' but actually this wins the competition. I've used some lyrics from the song Photograph cos I felt like it would go nicely with the flow plus I am weak with hospital scenes because of the distresses that occur within it but I tried ya know ¯_(ツ)_/¯ It's a little messy and dramatic on a side note because I had to deal with some outside disturbances as well and my mind was on other things 😔 But again, thank you guys for supporting this series! Your feedbacks mean a lot ♥ Tag list is always open!! (seriously, I need more people to tag xd)
Summary: You had always loved Ben ever since you the two of you met in university and became the best of friends. That feeling went out like a candle flame when you parted ways until he re-entered your life...but this time with someone who has already occupied his heart.
Warnings: That angst from 8? Yeah, it just upgraded, fluff if you, like, use a microscope, explicit description of blood and injuries, swearing but I kept it to a minimum, mentions of death but there's actually no death. Melodrama, ig? Sorry, I had a hard time writing consistently this week ^^'
WC: 6.5k (Someone got carried away.)
Tags: @haendel-me-with-care
@mrsdoradominguez-barnes
@mickmoon
@lakef
@mrsmazzello
@valeriecarolinaw
@queen-turtle-boiii
@loveandbeloved29
@hardzzellos
Parts: 8 7 6 5 4 3 2 1
"Someone please help! Help us! "
"Bloody bastard just drove off without even stopping! "
"Are you fu- you left your phone?! He's barely clinging on to life!! Ask a random person to dial 911!"
"Oh god, what- what do we do- his head, his freaking head! There is so much blood right now!"
"D-don't move his neck! He's critical!"
"Rosy. Rosy. Calm down...he has to be fine..he should be... "
"An ambulance is on its way!"
"His head is fucking bloody! Do you even want- fuck! Someone help here! Someone, please help! "
"Is he even breathing?! "
"Oh god, Y/N! He's not- he's not! "
"You better not be joking around!"
"Joe! He is bloody dying and you think I'm fucking joking?!"
"He has no pulse as well..."
"I got to- I have to make an attempt to resuscitate him. "
"Are you sure?"
"We're not waiting for that goddamn vehicle! If I don't do it, he's going to die!"
"Wake up, Ben! Please, wake up..."
Blur. That's what everything was. A huge, uncoordinated, focal blur. A sea of people had crowded the scene like a flock of sheep ready to graze on the pasture, except the only green they had for their eyes was the sight of six, dreadful friends taking it in their hands to keep the seventh one grounded while they wait for professional help.
The ones with flashing cameras hoisted up high to document the scene disgusted you down to the pits of your stomach and you had wished for them to scatter away. You all, especially you had to bear the agony of seeing him motionless on the asphalt ground– without breath, skin drained of color while the only color highlighted in the spectrum was the copious but graphic amount of blood that had tainted the spot he was lying in– his hair coated in the sticky, sanguinary puddle, creating a traumatizing mix of blond and deep red that you now couldn't forget. The tears pricking from your eyes when you had given him mouth to mouth mingling with his bleeding forehead.
He had lost all consciousness at a maximum.
You had ached to cradle his body right there and then but had you acted on impulse; it would've worsened the situation.
Medics had filled in the scene seconds after you had given Ben a well-thought out CPR undeterred by your raging adrenaline. He was then brought into the ambulance with Rosy tagging along to be there when they rush him into the ER. You had gone after with the others in Gwilym's car, your shaking hands coated with drying blood -his drying blood- as you made your way to the hospital in a blistering cruise.
You're still in your dress, only topped with Joe's designer blazer to shield you from the cold and a warm, half-empty cup of brew situated between your palms partially substituting the natural heat of your skin, waiting quietly in the lounging room. They had transferred Ben to a private room after performing an operation on his head and scanning him afterwards. One of the emergency doctors remarked that if it weren't for your initiative to follow first aid protocol and give him immediate resuscitation before help had arrived– he would have gone ten minutes early.
You've been waiting an hour and a half for the doctor to step out of the room and deliver the news about his condition. And while you do that, Joe and Lucy have gone off to collect a fresh pair of clothing from the hotel for you to change into. Rosy is stood at the entrance making some calls, Gwilym and Rami have gone back to their respective hotels to change clothes and come back for the news.
You felt light hearing that comment but it's nothing compared to the aftermath of the accident. It was a hit-and-run and the driver didn't even step on his breaks or bother to stop to take responsibility.
Rami's blazer that had been used to delay Ben's bleeding has been given back to him for dry cleaning. To complicate the situation, you're supposed to be boarded on a plane back to England eight hours from now yet that's something you have to cross out from the bucket list, entirely. You're not going anywhere unless Ben heaves out a single sigh of life.
Not a single step out the fucking institution unless he opens those eyes.
Unless he parts his lips.
Unless he says your name.
You owe it to him for saving your life, nearly costing his.
And it's just 2 in the morning.
You put down the cup on the space next to you, bringing your hands up to your lowered head, underneath your eyes watering from all of that's happened tonight.
"We're back." Two figures stand before you minutes after your eyelids have fluttered shut in despair. You lift your head to be met with Joe and Lucy in their casual clothes, smiling sadly at you with paperbags in hand.
You return that smile with a much weaker one. They settle the bags down and Joe sinks down on one knee in front of you, taking your face in his hands gently while he peeks up at you. "I see the news isn't out yet. You can change, we'll take care of it."
"You sure?" You mumble quietly. He nods and you prolong a sigh as you sit up, getting tenderly lulled into a hug by Lucy. "He's gonna be okay." She expresses definitely as she rubs your back. You thank her for the reassurance before taking one of the bags that contains your clothes.
Pulling the hem of your sweatshirt in place, you couldn't wait to escape the lavatory. It smells of newly applied bleach and the pungent odor is plain nauseating. You close the door with the bag in hand on your way out but freeze in your spot as a certain, exclusive news breaks out in the TV screen above you.
"Just 10pm tonight, Bohemian Rhapsody and EastEnders star, Ben Hardy, has reportedly been gravely involved and injured in a hit-and-run just outside of Wallis Annenberg Center during the ongoing Vanity Fair after party. Sources said that he had dashed headlong down the traffic-jammed streets to what they said was an attempt to save co-star's, Joe Mazzello, date from an incoming vehicle– which he had succeeded in as he failed to save himself–" The rest of the news anchor's words go unprocessed in your head as you hurriedly trace your way back to the lounging area, unwilling to hear recurring reports at yours or anyone's expense.
It already hurts enough that you think it's partly your fault for acting so careless.
By now, the attending physician should be out and conveying the news to Lucy and Joe and as you arrive– he is, hands in his lab coat pockets, informing them in the most serious of tones.
They see you approaching and you ask immediately, words stumbling out of your mouth like perceivable beats. "Doc, how is he? How's Ben?"
With Lucy and Joe already informed about it, the doctor decides to tell you himself to save them the hassle. "He should be fine soon. However I must be frank with you, miss," your heart loses a beat for a fraction of a second at the suspense rising, "he flat lined twice in the ER. It took three sets of defibs to get his heart beating again." Hearing him break to you that Ben was a simple step away from death as they tried to treat him drains the warm color palette in your face, even with the affirmation that he's going to be alright; knowing there were two moments in which he had slipped in and out of life at the same time just upsets your stomach.
The doctor continues with his report, telling you that he's suffered from a mild to severe head trauma caused by the blunt force when he had his scalp dragged along the asphalt. Apparently he fissured the the near front of his skull and underwent neurosurgery for it. You quickly get the idea, having studied a series of medical topics of course, but it doesn't invalidate the fact that it still sounds like a bad thing.
The doctor sighs and adds. "Although he bled internally at a minimum, he's lucky to have bled externally for the most part."
Forming a steeple of your fingers and stealing a quick glimpse of Lucy and Joe, you gulp hard. "How long 'til he wakes up?"
"I'd say in about 48 hours. His scan results after the surgery showed promise for a stable recovery though he might wake up a little dazed at first due to the moderate concussion," at least you're getting the assurance that he's waking up, "your friend has a thick skull. He'll recover in time, but with short-term effects."
48 hours. Not enough time for you to stay or leave.
"Can we see him? Right now?" Setting your expectations to the highest, you ask with a glimmer of hope and the doctor approves, minding you to turn down the lights in the room as Ben would likely be sensitive to it by the time he wakes. "A nurse will come by and check on him every once in a while as well."
You nod weakly, thanking him professionally as you gradually hang your head in disappointment. He wishes Ben a speedy recovery before turning on his heels, leaving you to it.
Lucy brings her short hair up in a pigtail, asking as she lifts up her share of the paper bags. "Are we going in now? I mean, the doc said we're able to." She vaguely points at the door of the room and you and Joe swap looks before deciding on it. You collect your items from the seats and draw in breaths as you follow suit, stepping into the room and being welcomed by the almost odorless whiff of paint and medicine; along with the light to moderate blow of the air conditioner.
As the door clicks close, you stand motionless yet internally trembling at the heartbreaking sight of Ben lying unresponsive, surrounded by various machines working to keep him alive. Flanking his bed are the heart monitor -fully functional- and a medical ventilator from which he is breathing from. He's hooked up to an IV bag with a breathing tube put into his mouth, his left arm is propped upon his abdomen but protected around a plaster and supported within a blue arm sling and lastly, his head is wrapped in a layer of roller bandage– the giveaway of his major injury.
"Y/N..." Joe cooing breaks you off from your vacant gaze but you hand him a forlorn eye as bring yourself to Ben's side, glancing over his limp body. He's taken quite a hit to have fractured his arm like this. His complexion didn't appear as livid as it is now and marking his bottom lip -which has lost that luscious red tint as well- is a small bruise, parted from his upper lip as he involuntarily breathes through the tube in his mouth. You don't hear his slow exhales but the normal rise and fall of his chest consoles a small part of you; the stable beeping of the heart monitor being the only occuring noise in the room. Concerned with how awfully quiet you've gone, Lucy and Joe give each other fitting looks as they share the same thought on the situation. As one of them begins to step close to ensure you're taking it well, you pipe up before them, your once honey-laced voice diminished to a monotone. "It's...not my fault."
"Of course, it's not," Lucy, being the one who has taken that step close, tenderly agrees but you add.
"It's not but it feels like it is."
Now Joe steps up next but stop as you add once more.
"And I told him I wanted to forget him and for him to do the same." Now some tears are inevitable.
"Y/N-"
"As impractical as it is to think about it now, but what if he does?" your hand has now hovered over him, the nerves of the pads of your fingers itching to skim themselves over his free hand, "I don't want to go. But I have to and he's still not gonna wake up by the time I leave."
His condition just yearns for your touch but you don't want to lay a hand on him just yet, out of the fear that you might hurt a small part of him.
Joe sighs softly as he puts his hands on your shoulders, rubbing them with ease. "Why don't you just email the institution about it? Tell them you're gonna have to delay because of an urgent matter."
"I can do that, but only a day after. I can't take long."
"Rami and Gwilym are on their way," Lucy reminds as she gets off her phone from messaging them, "with some food and water."
"None of us are burning the midnight oil then," Joe stretches his limbs and returns to the couch to take a moment to relax, eyes snapping wide as he remembers something. "By the way, Y/N. If you spilled your heart out to him earlier, did you include the bit where our relationship was all but pretend?"
Surely the stare you and Lucy are sharing towards him could render the atmosphere painful but you answer regardless of the topic, shaking your head as you turn your attention to Ben once more. "No. But he's bound to question it. That is if he remembers what happened."
Lucy rests her hand on her hip as she glances at the heart monitor, the waves tempting her eyes to follow them. "Doctor never implied anything about amnesia."
The three of you fall silent again with you locking your gaze at the man who didn't want to let you go. Who chased you down a busy highway knowing he'd bite the dust if he did and ended up saving you at the expense of his own well-being.
And life.
And his own soul.
He'll recover in a short period, yes. But when you had gently grazed your trembling hand over his bloodied head in the middle of the street, it was as if he was bound to never wake up. A visual you want to shake off for the sake of composure.
Joe and Lucy take notice of your stilled silence again, their expressions low-spirited. Taking small steps towards you, Lucy wraps her arms around your shoulders from behind and pulls out a certain object from her back pocket, slipping it to you. "Found this in the inner pocket of Ben's tainted blazer when the doctors gave his clothes to us."
You cast your gaze to what she's holding and hear your heart shatter at what it is. You slowly take it from her and sweep your thumb over it.
Ben's share of your Homecoming picture.
And behind it, the same date and continuation of what was written on your half.
You piece it in your mind and feel your eyes cloud with tears, a droplet making a small patter as it lands on the polaroid.
He kept it. In his blazer. He brought it along with him.
_I'm not going... anywhere at all. _
"But I am." You mutter as opposed to the words in your head. For as long as you love him and he doesn't in the way you do, distancing yourself is something that needs to be done to make sure you finally let go. You'd stick around but it would further fragment your soul.
Just in time to tear you from reaching your breakfing point, the door creaks open to two men and a red-haired woman, two of whom are grasping paper bags containing some food and water and one with an overwrought look, respectively.
Lucy leaves your side and walks over to Rami's, kissing his cheek and helping them unload their items on the coffee table. Gwilym gives the three of you, and Rosy who had followed in behind them, an individual hug– asking you about Ben's condition as he lays eyes on him.
You assure him of a smooth recovery and it unknots the lump of worry he's under.
"Oh, Ben, baby... " Breaks down Rosy, who whizzes past you to tear up over her injured fiance. She gazes down painfully at the man before her and delicately fondles his blanch cheek, eyes narrowed to the point where her face has contorted to a scowl which she throws directly at you. "This is all your fault. "
Your brows crease at her in absolute confusion. "What are you talking about?" Sensing that an altercation is about to take place, the rest stumble quiet in preparation for the worst. Joe readies himself to butt in in case it escalates further.
"What did you say to him?" She asks you in a form of a hiss.
"Nothing! I-"
"He chased you down! You must have said something that set him off!" Her demanding voice echoes off the walls, overlaying the beeping and whizzing of both the heart monitor and ventilator. You begin swearing to her that you didn't say anything of the sort but trail off as you realize that what you had actually said, was something that indeed hurt him.
You draw your lips between your teeth and clench your fist, unable to respond with the truth, fearing it might just fuel the fire.
"That's- that's not important now." You shake your head dismissively and turn around.
"It is. You led Ben out into the street, agitated."
"Rosy, please. Can we not talk about this now? We're squabbling in front of an unconscious man-"
"Okay girls. Our boy is out cold but that doesn't mean he can't hear, right?" Eager to quench the growing conflict, Gwilym slides in between the dangerous proximity you've put yourselves in and you huff an apology.
On the other hand, Rosy does the complete opposite. "No, Gwilym. He has been acting strange for weeks and to think tomorrow's supposed to be our wedding! And this is all because of her."
Gwilym turns to her firmly and tries calming - or rather shutting her up for the sake of the peace Ben needs to heal- her down. "We're not throwing fingers here. I know tomorrow's the day and you don't want to put him under pressure, right? I don't think he's going to succumb to waking up if this goes on."
Rami, Lucy and Joe have remained unbelievably quiet but are as keen as Gwilym to prevent something unnecessary as this. It's barely 3 am in the morning for the love of God and you're all in a hospital room. Sleeping patients could bang their fists on the walls from the other side any time.
You, on the other hand, have already made four steps towards the door, ready to leave the room to be alone with your thoughts for the night but you're unable to twist the knob as Rosy snaps once more with the hint, distressing with a clenched jaw.
She's unrelenting.
"Please Y/N, you're overstepping and frankly it's getting in the way of my relationship with Ben."
"You have no idea what I'm trying to do," You mumble in the most bitter of intonations for Rosy to get the message, your fingers clenching around the knob and producing a faint chink. "But he's my best friend. Let me be the person I've always been to him, " you whip your head at her -a stare you're certain could equal to a pelted javelin- and draw your brows together, pleading on account of choosing to be present in a crisis such as this, " he's all yours anyway."
With a strong swing of the door, you march angrily out of the room, making your way outside the building to blow off steam – the smooth rub of the polaroid between your fingers surrendering you to tears.
You give yourself exactly 48 hours to stay before heading back to England to board your flight for Spain.
10 hours
Ben's accident was a clean hit-and-run. Apparently some bystanders had snapped a shot of the license plate the moment the car slowed down and accelerated afterwards. It was then delivered to the police to be given further investigation. His parents have flown in from England to visit him and you badly wish you could greet them but some things are just too heavy to do right now. Back at the hospital, Ben's been given hourly checks and assessments, with each desired result constant. He's not responsive to any physical contact but the doctor is certain that he can perceive sound and sound only. His body is asleep but his mind isn't.
The rest will be visiting him at dusk while you're going in late with Joe.
After sending an email to the university about your 24-hour delay, you spend the entire day just waiting to go down there and be by his side. Regarding your solitude in the hotel room, Rami had Lucy stay in with him for the meantime and being initially worried about leaving you, she had asked for your permission to which you said yes to.
Sometimes in the day, you can't hold back a few tears at the flashing memory.
17 hours
Loving can hurt
Standing in front of the private room, you clutch the collar of your shirt anxiously, hearing incoherent but distinct murmurs on the other side of the door. Joe looks down at you and squeezes your hand lightly to relieve you of pressure. He knows how much this is affecting you, and though not visually shown, he's taking it hard too.
Loving can hurt sometimes
The door opens to a couple you've familiarized yourself with for so long. Ben's parents.
"Y-Y/N?" Says his mum, unable to believe that it's you standing before her. Your breath hitches as you grin sadly, being pulled into her embrace. "It's been so long."
"It has, Mrs. Jones."
Joe shakes hands with his father as he introduces himself politely. Mr. Jones greets you in with a light hug as well and you can't help but spill a few tears.
But it's the only thing that I know
They give you full access to the room
as they themselves have to leave for a while, thereby trusting their son to his closest circle. Knowing how tight you and Ben are, they give you much of their trust on this one and you'd want nothing more than to make sure he'll wake up without any further complications. They obviously know about Rosy but witnessing how long you and Ben have grown on one another, they trust you the most.
They bid you and Joe goodbye, leaving access to the room exclusive.
When it gets hard
As you begin closing the door behind Joe, he insists that you have some alone time with him. Though it may feel weird but he feels as if you need this the most with time going against you now. Touched by his thoughtfulness, you give him a quick embrace before he leaves you to it.
You know it can get hard sometimes
The sight before you hasn't changed that much.
The same monitors and the same person.
Same feeling.
However you'd rather take everything
in a different light and situation.
You fiddle with your fingers as you accumulate the strength to swallow the lump in your throat, drawing yourself to his side. The mild, incessant whirring of both the air conditioner and ventilator occupies the silent atmosphere along with the steady beeps of the heart monitor, blocking the huge gulp you've taken.
It is the only thing that makes us feel alive
Slowly taking a seat on the stool positioned beside the guard rails of the bed, you let out a quavery sigh– the byproduct of all the tearing up you've done today. You take his free hand in yours and stroke his pale knuckles with your thumb, leaning in to plant a kiss on it.
We keep this love in a photograph
"Ben? It's me. Can you hear me?"
One-sided conversations are helpful according to experts and this is the perfect opportunity to tell him everything without having to bear the flits in his expression.
But you beg to differ.
We made these memories for ourselves. Where our eyes are never closing.
You continue, allowing every crack and quiver to manifest in your voice no matter how relatively pathetic it will make you sound.
"Ben, please, you gotta wake up. You're leaving us in a hot mess here, bud. Hell, you gave your parents the scare of their lives. I know I'm starting off rough with this, but it's all cause you had to leap in like that. But then again, it was- it was not your fault. This- all of this is not your doing. I should've been more careful on that road. Would've been better if I had cut back on the melodrama, huh? Haha..."
You lick your lips and resume, owning the patters your tears have soiled on the tiled floor.
Hearts are never broken
"I'm sorry if I had to hide it all from you, " you build it up slowly, tears tenacious to leave your eyes, "it's just that I was afraid you'd soon forget me once you've married and I wouldn't be part of your life anymore. To make matters worse, I have always loved you, Ben. On every level and aspect, I still do. Sticking around to see you spend the rest of your life with someone else when that feeling is still present is just toxic. And to think you're supposed to be wedded tomorrow, "you sniffle, taking a few seconds to form your following words, "that's why it would be easier if we- if we...oh god, I'm actually much more of an actor than you are..." You want to chuckle for it, but nothing resembling a chuckle mopes out of your mouth. Just...short breaths.
Time is forever frozen-
"But I truly am happy for you. I really am. But I can't be happy myself when you've taken a huge portion of my heart and I'm just...I just want to make sure nothing will ever ruin your happiness," You close the distance between you and the bed, your hot tears dripping on his arm sling, the cloth absorbing it. You're really taking advantage of his inability to respond.
"I'm s-sorry, Ben. I don't know how long I can stay by your side like this. Literally like this. But as long as I am able, " you lower your head onto his chest, now shamelessly sobbing like you haven't broken down in centuries, squeezing his free but chilly hand like it's the only thing that'll give you warmth tonight, "I'm sorry if I'm going somewhere."
And still
Despite promising to give you a moment alone with him, Joe -having recurring, inquisitive tendencies- has acted as opposed to his promise and eavesdropped on your unrequited talk due to having to wait too long, not realizing that after hearing all your words exit in sobs, you've fallen asleep with your head on Ben's chest.
Joe glances around the hall before budging the door open, careful not to disturb you as he sees you out cold next to him. He presses his lips into a hard line and chuckles quietly, amused as he grabs an available sheet from the couch and drapes it over you. The moment he notices a tear droplet stuck in the corner of your eye, he wipes it away with his thumb, sighing profoundly.
"Rosy's gonna flip when she gets back and sees this. So, " Joe, mumbling on his own, tumbles back down onto the couch and kicks back, "I'll be here just in case."
20 hours
So you can keep me
A nurse opens the door with a tray and clipboard in hand to conduct an hourly assessment of his condition, not minding your head placement on his chest. He's still unresponsive to anything external.
I**nside the pocket of your ripped jeans **
As the test ends and the nurse closes the door on her way out, his finger twitches.
30 hours
Holding me closer til our eyes meet
Joe wakes you up softly with a bowl of soup in hand– something he bought from the cafeteria upstairs. You lift your heavy head from its recent spot and blink your bleary eyes at him, giving away a wry smile and telling him you'll eat later on.
You won't ever be alone
"By they way, this slipped from your pocket." He slips something off the table and hands it to you with a knowing look, that something being the dual polaroids you've taped together the other night. You take it from him deliberately and turn your head to Ben, before staring down at the joint pictures, nostalgia ever so sudden like a whiplash.
Wait for me to come home
35 hours
Loving can heal
Rami and Lucy have stopped by to visit and take your 'shifts' considering Rosy is still absent and you and Joe had to return to the hotel to change. The attending physician and a nurse come in to replace his breathing tube with a nasal cannula, since the assessment done hours prior has shown that he's already capable of breathing on his own.
39 hours
Loving can mend your soul
"Funny how today is supposed to be his wedding but we're getting a funeral instead. " Morbidly comments one of Ben's visitors and closest friends. Every single person in the room who has come by to visit Ben shoots a death glare at him for making that joke within a two feet radius of Ben who is sure to give him a bop on the head the minute he gets up.
41 hours
And it's the only thing that I know
Meanwhile Rosy had spent the entire day rescheduling the wedding and the once volatile reactions she's had do a 360 and is brought down to one, constant look as she bumps into you on your way to Ben's room.
42 hours
I swear it will get easier, remember that with every piece of you
You both don't say a word until you've settled down on the couch as she strays to Ben's side and wipes the glistening speckle of sweat on his cheek with her thumb, the silence coming to a close as you pry the words out of your mouth.
"Rosy, believe me. I have never harboured the thought of coming between you both. I'm only ever there for him as a friend."
And it's the only thing we take with us when we die
Giving you an impassive eye, she ignores your words entirely and turns her attention back to her fiance.
45 hours
We keep this love in a photograph
You don't leave the room with the hours progressing to the moment he's timed to wake up. A lot of people have paid him a visit, cracking jokes and talking to him notwithstanding the fact that he's utterly unresponsive. They've done all they can to lighten the mood in the room, hoping all their antics and bliss would lure Ben out of his induced insensibility. But he's nowhere near the edge.
We made these memories for ourselves
47 hours
With Rosy snuggled up against his side, Ben retains immobility and it's a sight you're not used to since he's one of the most fidgety arseholes who's ever graced your life. You know you'd be bombed by her if you do this with her close by, but you had given yourself exactly 48 hours to stay before heading back.
Where our eyes are never closing, hearts are never broken
And so you wander to the opposite side of the bed and peer at down your wristwatch for the time.
Time's forever frozen and still.
48 hours
"Ben?" You whimper close to his ear. He's not responding. You know he wouldn't wake up that quickly at the strike of the exact hour but you're impatient to say goodbye to him with his forest, green eyes on full display and wandering around your (Y/E/C) ones to bolster you up.
"Hey." You coax into his ear again, still no response. The racing beat of your heart has matched the beeps of the heart monitor. His heart beats. The similarity is sketchy but nearly symbolic. You're leaving in the morning and he's not up and lively for you to fervently crush in a parting embrace.
"Bud, please. I can't force you to wake up but I'm leaving tomorrow. You have to help me...here." At this point, though how eager you are to, you can't let some tears stream down from your eyes since the possibility of Rosy waking up to you catching sobs is feasible, but Ben's involuntary stillness is not helping you with that ordeal. Losing all hope for a night, you straighten up and collect your things from the couch, deciding to come back one last time tomorrow prior to your departure.
You quickly open the door to the attending physician who's about to step in to take physical tests but you whisk past him without taking a second look.
Easy to say you didn't have a good night sleep with all the stresses weighing down on you that night. Either you hyperventilated in your slumber or remained asleep but with tears seeping from your half-closed eyes.
You've sent Lucy a text in the early hours of the morning notifying her about your departure today. She hasn't responded yet.
"Just a 24-hour delay? Are they that heartless?" Leaning on the door frame of your hotel room with a bitten donut in his hand, Joe questions as he watches you prop your luggage against the open door. "I had to reschedule the flight thrice last month, this one being the latest. It's only reasonable," You huff as a matter of fact, fixing the scarf that has dangled loose around your neck and staring into oblivion barely a second after going tight-lipped.
Finishing his donut, Joe pokes you out of your momentary trance. "You alright?"
You shake your head.
"I don't even know if he's awake now. It's past 48 hours and what if he-"
"There's only one way to find out," appeasing your elevating worry, he grabs you by the shoulders and looks you square in the eye, silently guaranteeing you of his recovery.
Since he'll be driving you to the airport, your things are neatly stored in the confines of the backseat but of course, you have to see Ben one last time, setting aside all the excruciating anticipation.
You scurry into the entrance with Joe by your side, out of breaths by the time you arrive at the door of Ben's room. Taking precautionary measures, you knock firmly on the surface expecting someone or Rosy to answer. But nada. You swap some looks with Joe and twist the knob gently, finding the room free of visitors and medical staff. Perhaps they've assessed him an hour prior.
"No one's around."
As you begin slipping a foot through the ajar door, Joe puts a hand on your shoulder, stopping you mid-step.
"Lucy's on her way."
His update on her reply makes you smile and you continue into the room, seeing the curtains that had blocked the sunlight for two days cast aside, spilling some sunlight into the room.
You take small, wobbly steps along the floor, unable to accept that until now he hasn't fluttered open those orbs you loved staring into so much. You suddenly fear that a complication has risen and is causing his extended unconsciousness but that must be the least of your worries.
So you can keep me, inside the pocket of your ripped jeans
He has to hear you. He has to. He has to.
He's gone really pasty. Dark circles under his eyes despite being asleep for two days. He has grown a scruff and looks painfully unruly, but still a face of an angel. You crouch and take his free hand in yours– careful not to disconnect the IV tube from his wrist, caressing it and drawing in a sharp inhale to free yourself of any doubt to speak up. "Ben. It's Y/N. You're scaring us, you know. The doctor said you'd wake up earlier but why? Why haven't you? What are you doing in there?"
This being the end of the long haul for you, you're not forcing anything at bay anymore– not your tears, not your peeves and certainly not your feelings. You interlace your fingers around his and kiss the back of his hand, your cheeks growing scarlet and wet with tears.
Holding me closer til our eyes meet, you won't ever be alone.
You get up from crouching and throw your arm around him in defiance of the possibility of applying a lot of pressure on his chest. It feels so different holding him that way. For the time you have left, an overly emotional, one-sided conversation should make up for the lost times that would've been great for those.
And if you hurt me, that's okay baby only words bleed
"You really kept that Homecoming picture, didn't you? Coincidentally I did too, just forgot it was there as well. But I pieced it back, by the way. Ironic that we both made a promise on those polaroids the night before graduation. I-I have it with me here, just so you know. Just thought I'd bring it out since...I'll be going soon." You pull the pictures out from the pocket of your coat with trembling hands, eager to wave them in front of him. Once out, you place it on the bedside table for him to keep once more but with your share of the picture.
Inside these pages you just hold me, and I won't ever let you go
You lay your forehead on his, your tears dripping onto his closed lids as you sob his name to get him to wake, at the same time feeling his soft exhales brush against your chin. " I told you I'd be strong and I'm trying to be. I know it sounds like a selfish thing to do but you have to trust me on this one. I want to move on, Ben. You're bound to be wedded soon and have a family of your own. I want to be there for that. I want to be that aunt who'll spoil your kids and make them fight you for the craziest demands. Those things I'd gladly do...if I wasn't this hopeless for you," Little by little, your voice comes out as broken whisper– losing your strength to add any more things to say in the process. On the other side of the door, Joe is finally joined by Lucy who has arrived not a minute late and they can't help but tear up a little at how uncontrolled your crying is slowly turning out, it's become audible enough to be heard from outside.
"Ben, buddy. Come on." He huffs against the hardwood as he and Lucy are tempted to barge in.
Burying your face into the exposed column of his neck with your arm slackening from being draped across his chest, you utter a voiceless but heartfelt statement.
Wait for me to come home
"I love you, Benjamin Jones. Be happy for me."
Your words hang thinly in the fragile air as you pull away from that proximity and leave a long kiss on his forehead, walking back sadly to the door with your hand outstretched ready to grab ahold of the knob.
"H-how could I be..."
The words released sound like a mere memory resonating in your head but you are proved wrong once you turn around.
#borhap#queen#ben hardy#ben hardy imagine#ben hardy x reader#borhap cast#borhap cast x reader#borhap imagine#ben hardy fanfic#imagine#fanfic
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