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bitterie-sweetie · 9 months ago

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Fake it til you make it

Pairing: Jeonghan x reader Genre: fluff, fake dating WC: 6.5k Warnings: alcohol A/N: yes it's about vday buuut it's actually for @syuperseventeen's bdayyy!!! surprise surprise! happy birthday nat, i hope this year is even better and filled with many things to look forward to <3

Your Valentine’s date with Jeonghan is coming up and yet the only thing on your mind is how to break up with him. Of course breaking up with someone is difficult, but you’d argue that what’s more difficult is breaking up with someone you never even dated.

Jeonghan is a prankster.

Growing up, you’d often be on the receiving end of his pranks at school. Third grade “initiation” had you drenched in water after he told you to pin a cup against the wall with a straw, and in ninth grade you had tears streaming down your face after eating an entire scoop of wasabi—not the matcha ice cream he said it was. Then there was the time he did something to make your first crush hate you, which, in hindsight, was a good thing because the guy turned out to be a total asshole.

It wasn’t Jeonghan’s fault entirely when you were too willing to fall for his pranks because being the target of a prank meant having his attention, and that’s something that you wanted. Jeonghan had a way of making everyone feel special, and his attention was a limelight that you never wanted to step out of.

Honestly, you might’ve kept up with it if he kept going. But then that fateful day came and it was like you were suddenly on his side, working with him instead of being the victim to his antics, and you’d say that that’s what has kept the two of you together after all these years.

Well, at least until now.

“Hey,” you greet in a rush, looking around the table at everyone and seeing that you’re truly the last one to arrive. Usually, you’d give that place to Lee Chan; he’s the most popular of your friend group and almost always has a prior appointment to your meetups. “Sorry I’m late. My train was delayed and—oh, did you already order for me?”

Jeonghan slides a sealed bubble tea across the table and sets it in front of your seat—the one empty chair right beside him, no less. When you glance at him questioningly he shrugs and tilts his head towards the crowd at the front. “The line was too long so I ordered yours with mine. Hope you’re feeling like your usual today.”

Indeed, the sticker on the cup shows that it’s your go-to order. “Aw, that’s so sweet of you. Thanks, babe.”

Today’s meet up with your friend group is the first of the year and it’s also the first time you’re seeing everyone since Chan’s wedding… including Jeonghan. You would’ve spent Christmas and New Year’s with him had he not cancelled on you, and now that bit of distance has manifested into a larger uncertainty for you over the past while. Even now, the ‘babe’ seemed to come out awkwardly, sticking to your throat.

“Wow, you guys are actually disgusting. I hope you know that.” Seungkwan makes a face at you, and beside him, Soonyoung nods a few times in agreement.

You plaster on a smile. “It’s okay to just say you’re jealous.”

The only response you get is an eye-roll from Soonyoung, and then everyone moves on, thankfully. Mingyu asks you what you’ve been up to so you talk about your recent promotion at work and some new habits you’ve started in the new year, and when you sense that the conversation is starting to approach the territory of your future with Jeonghan, you gently steer it towards Chan. After all, he’s the one that got married just a few months ago, and you know he would never miss the chance to talk about his amazing honeymoon and how great this new chapter of his life is going.

There is truly nothing like adult friendships and its quarterly updates.

Once there’s a bit of a lull in the conversation, Jeonghan turns to you. “What are you doing this week?”

“Oh, this week?” Your heart speeds up tenfold at the uncertainty of what might come next. “Hmm well, it’s Valentine’s Day.”

“Yeah, exactly.” He nods and much to your relief, there’s a hint of a smile at the corner of his lips. “So I’ll see you for our date then?”

“Of course, babe.”

“Can’t you guys do this somewhere else?” Soonyoung says as he stares daggers in your direction. You totally understand and sympathize with that though; today you’re turning up the sweetness more than usual to compensate for the distance you actually feel, unfortunately at the expense of your friends.

Jeonghan completely ignores Soonyoung’s complaint and doesn’t even look his way. “That’s good,” he says, leaning back in his seat and almost looking relieved at your answer. “I was afraid my darling might not have time for me anymore.”

“What? No way. Did you have anything in mind for our date?”

“Hmm, yes but it’s a surprise. I’ll text you the details later.”

“Well, uh, I have to run,” Chan says, slowly getting up from his seat. The rest of you hardly bat an eye, having gotten too used to his busy schedule. “It was nice seeing everyone. You guys should come over for my housewarming once everything is set up.”

Mingyu stands up too. “Oh, I actually have to go too; got a dinner with Wonwoo later.”

…On second thought, perhaps you overcompensated a bit too much with the cringe. Soonyoung and Seungkwan leave soon after getting a call from their roommate, Seokmin, and then it’s just you and Jeonghan at the table. Still seated side by side, your arm occasionally brushing against his.

“How have you really been?” he asks in a low voice.

“Decent, I guess, despite the winter blues and all. It’s pretty much what I said earlier.” You shrug when he remains silent. “Why do you ask? Do I look depressed or something?”

“No,” he shakes his head with a laugh, “not depressed, exactly, but I wanted to see if you’re as sad as I am about not seeing each other in so long.” Then he leans in a bit closer, as if to whisper a secret. “I missed you, darling.”

It’s times like this when you feel like he’s toeing the line. There’s a small smile lingering on his lips and a softer look in his eyes, not at all like the overdone sweetness to the point of sarcasm from before, but you can never tell if he really means what he says or if this is just part of the act.

Regardless, it makes your face feel hot and it makes you unable to look directly at him.

“Oh… yeah,” you say, trying to make a quick recovery. “It’s too bad we missed out on the holidays but at least we get Valentine’s Day.”

“Yup, that’s exactly why I have something special in mind for that day. I want to make it up to you, darling.”

You give him a smile and then go to take a sip of your drink, and that’s pretty much the end of the conversation. Despite saying he misses you, it’s interesting how he doesn’t explain why he bailed on the holidays in the first place, and you don’t know whether you should ask about it at this point.

Or if you should even be curious about such a thing.

Jeonghan pulls you out of your thoughts with a brush of his hand on yours. “It’s getting dark. Let’s head out?”

You agree and then let him hold your hand, lace his fingers with yours, and then lead you out of the shop. He doesn’t let go until you cross the parking lot and get to his car. It’s strange, you think. You can’t seem to recall the last time the two of you held hands so naturally like this especially when there’s no one else around.

In fact, when the two of you are alone, the sickening sweetness is always toned down but not completely dropped. Now, Jeonghan’s smiles are softer around the edges like they’re less exaggerated, less of a performance, and when he calls you darling, his voice is quieter and isn’t at all coated in the sticky honey you’re used to. When he hugs you goodbye at your door, it’s a loose hug and almost has a degree of uncertainty.

Jeonghan steps back but lingers just for a second. “I’ll see you in a few days for our date, darling.”

“Of course,” you put on a smile, “I can’t wait, babe.”

He waits until you get into your building before giving a little wave and then heading on his way.

After you close the door behind you and collapse onto your bed, you heave a sigh and finally let the smile slip from your lips. So there would be a Valentine’s date this year after all; the anticipation makes your heart speed up the slightest but at the same time makes you all the more anxious. You thought that he really would end things today, and if not, that you should be the one to do so. But seeing him after so long, feeling the way the warmth of his touch lingers on your skin, basking in the brightness of his smiles, you simply couldn’t utter those words.

Perhaps Valentine’s Day wouldn’t be the right time to do it either, or maybe your date won’t end up happening for whatever reason. You know that this is something you have to do, but the question is how exactly would you go about doing it? Because there is one major problem.

You’re not dating Jeonghan at all.

One moment in high school is what started this whole thing.

It was eleventh grade drama class—which Jeonghan thought would be fun to take as an elective—that resulted in the two of you being cast in the school play. Although neither of you landed a role that was remotely close to important, Jeonghan decided to have fun with it and improvise during your one minute of screen time and that somehow turned your insignificant cameos into a beautiful romance that had the audience rooting for you.

And that very moment somehow managed to embed itself so deeply in your relationship with Jeonghan that it became a long running joke to this day.

Today you’re sitting across from Soonyoung and Seungkwan again, with Mingyu beside you this time. Almost an exact replica of last week’s meetup, but Chan already has plans and Jeonghan is very obviously missing—something Soonyoung points out immediately.

“Wow, no Jeonghan today?” he says loudly even before the hostess is out of earshot. The people at the two tables nearby glance in your direction and you start to regret coming here at all. “We really won this one. Y/N, we should do this more often.”

You definitely should not. “Um, yeah. Totally.”

Last week’s meeting with your friends is what gave you the idea to consult with them about your situation. You first suggested the idea to Mingyu, and then used the prospect of free food to get Soonyoung and Seungkwan to come out, and naturally, Chan is busy so it ends up being the four of you at brunch. Which is better on your wallet, you think. You get the feeling that this quarterly meetup can totally happen more often if you were to make this offer every time.

As for what you’re about to ask… well, truthfully, you still don’t know if you should even do it. You’ve gone so many years without saying a word that it’d simply be odd to ask now, plus you would run the risk of making everything weird. But if you don’t do it, you would only end up making it weird anyway because how much longer can you go on pretending?

Besides, it’s not only you and Jeonghan who are prolonging this inside joke for way longer than it should’ve lasted. All of your friends should be in on it if they treat the two of you like a couple too.

The waiter comes by to take your orders, and you try not to wince at the entire list that comes out of Soonyoung and Seungkwan’s mouths. Mingyu gets the least, seemingly knowing that something is up if the worried glances he throws your way is anything to go by.

Once the waiter leaves, that’s when the small talk stops and all eyes turn to you.

“So what did you want to talk about?” Soonyoung asks with a goofy grin. “Since Jeonghan’s not here, does that mean you need help with Valentine’s Day plans or something?”

Beside him, Seungkwan has the complete opposite expression as he eyes you warily between sips of his americano.

You take a huge swig of water like it’s liquid courage, and then go for it. “This is going to sound weird…” you start, trying not to notice the way Seungkwan tenses up as if bracing for your words, “but I wanted to ask you guys what my relationship with Jeonghan is.”

Silence. Complete, dead silence.

Soonyoung freezes like he’s in a photograph while Seungkwan’s hand holding his americano hangs in mid air as a drop of the drink dribbles down the side of his lip.

“Sorry, what?” It’s Soonyoung who recovers first. “I think I heard that wrong.”

You shake your head. “Just tell me.”

“You’re asking us what your relationship with your own boyfriend is?”

“Boyfriend—exactly!” You have to hold back all the thoughts you have on the topic. “Yeah, that’s what I mean. So you think he’s my boyfriend? That we’re dating?”

Soonyoung frowns but it’s Seungkwan who answers, exasperated. “Y/N, what are you trying to say here? Are you trying to say you guys broke up? Or do you think we don’t know you well enough and this is a test? Can you say whatever it is directly—”

“Jeonghan and I aren’t together.”

There, you said it. Your biggest secret is out.

It should make you relieved to finally let out the secret you’ve been harbouring for years or it should at least alleviate some of the weight on your chest, but it doesn’t. The silence in the wake of your confession only closes in on you and makes it all the more suffocating.

“Any—anymore?”

“No. We were never together.”

The bit of silence from earlier repeats itself. Maybe you should become a speaker or presenter with your ability to draw such reactions from a crowd.

Seungkwan noisily sets down his drink and then leans forward with a frown. He’s still in denial, that much is obvious, and he narrows his eyes as he asks, “Is this a joke? A hidden camera? Are you trying to prank us like Jeonghan—”

“No, I’m completely serious. It’s really not what it seems, and this is why I’m asking you guys what you see us as because at this point I don’t even know the answer myself.”

With a deep breath, you tell them the truth about this entire thing.

You tell them about the high school play and your impromptu acting, and how that led for the two of you to become the famous couple at school afterwards. Sure, it might’ve been a good thing because that meant your acting was believable. But to two people who were interested in just about anything except love at that age, it was annoying and gross.

After the show when the shippers wouldn’t stop, the two of you decided to do what you do best—pull a prank. You spent that Valentine’s Day together as a joke and acted extra disgusting to mock couples while making fun of how stupid people were to believe whatever you showed them. In twelfth grade, the two of you did the same for Valentine’s Day and then even went to prom together as a joke.

In recent years, however, the annual joke of a Valentine’s Day date has turned into his Christmas and your Lunar New Year, his cousin’s graduation, your coworker’s housewarming, and Lee Chan’s wedding. It’s made you on a texting basis with his sister and it’s made him familiar with all your favourite food spots and go-to orders. It’s turned him into someone who’s simultaneously as distant as an acquaintance yet closer than a best friend.

And so, here you are, living an entire lie because you and Jeonghan had the whole world fooled.

“That’s insane,” Soonyoung says when you finally finish the story, unable to look your way and instead, stares into his drink with how mind blown he is.

Seungkwan, on the other hand, remains a bit skeptical. “Okay, but then what was with all that PDA?All the kissing? Is this some sort of situationship?”

“Oh, um.” Immediately you can feel your cheeks heating up. You didn’t think this far at all but now it seems like the entire truth will have to come out. “All of it was fake. We’ve… never actually kissed.”

That drama class has taught you more than you needed to know about manipulating angles and the audience’s perception, and Jeonghan is very good at it. Your fake kisses were often just a trick of the angle or occasionally using the thumb trick, and having seen the evidence captured in photos over the years, you know how convincing it can look.

Now, it’s embarrassing to admit for reasons you never would’ve imagined. Admitting to pulling a childish prank like this is one thing, but the realization that you and Jeonghan have faked it for so long without ever once making it real has you feeling almost dejected.

“I always knew Jeonghan was crazy but I didn’t know he’d be *this* crazy.” Soonyoung now has his head in his hands and is staring off into space. “This is the most insane story I’ve ever heard. I’m not sure if I should be happy for you or sad.”

You give a wry smile. “Yeah, well, I get why you would think we were together though. You met us in college and wouldn’t have known about what happened in the past so I guess there would never be a reason to question it.”

Beside you, Mingyu clears his throat and you turn to look at him. He’s been so quiet throughout your story that you were too busy focusing on the reactions of the other two, but looking at him now, his reaction is entirely different. Mingyu isn’t as surprised as he is concerned. “Actually, Y/N, a few years ago…” he says hesitantly, “there was a time when I asked him if you were actually dating.”

“You did? What did he say?”

“He didn’t deny it.”

“Well, we all know how he loves to be ambiguous and leave things a mystery.”

Mingyu shakes his head. “No—see, that’s what I thought too, but it was different that time. At first he didn’t deny it, but when I pushed a bit more, he said that you’re dating. In actual words and with the most serious look I’ve ever seen on his face.”

This is news to you. You always assumed that they were all in on the joke and would’ve never guessed that anyone actually asked Jeonghan, but the fact that he answered that way is all the more baffling.

“I don’t get it. Why would he tell you that?”

“Yeah, so,” Soonyoung says, “from then on we all thought that was fully confirmed, and he never said or implied otherwise.”

“Right…”

Mingyu nudges you gently. “Y/N, are you telling us about this now because you’re planning on stopping the act? Has it been bothering you? Or did something happen?”

“Is that why you wanted to tell us today?” Soonyoung lets out a dramatic gasp and leans all the back in his chair, hands over his mouth. “Don’t tell me—are you going to stop the act because you have a crush on someone?”

“What? No, definitely not. It’s not that, it’s—”

Here’s the next part of your big secret being revealed, something you weren’t entirely ready for but you tell yourself that this needs to happen.

It’s because of your feelings for Jeonghan. Your very real, very genuine feelings that have nothing to do with this prank.

Truthfully, you can’t pinpoint when you started feeling this way, much like you’re not sure how this joke was able to stick around for so long. It could be the most recent development—when your friend tried to convince you to hop on a dating app, all you could think about was how wrong it felt because you already had Jeonghan. Or maybe it was the Valentine’s Day just before college graduation when he leaned in so closely you thought he was going to kiss you, for real this time, and then only realizing much later that you were disappointed that it wasn’t real.

Or perhaps it started way back, to the time he asked you to prom—he said he didn’t have a date only for you to later find out he’d already rejected two promposals from other people. All for your fake relationship, supposedly.

And now, for you, what has started as a harmless prank has turned into something much more than that over the years.

Everyone looks like they're at a loss for words after that part, and even Soonyoung has lost his enthusiasm after hearing it. “Shit, that’s…” he starts. “Okay, yeah, I’m definitely sad for you.”

Seungkwan and Mingyu have similar sentiments but you wave them off, eager to lighten the mood again after such heavy topics. The food on the table has been long finished and you’re beginning to feel like you’re overstaying your welcome when there’s a crowd waiting at the front of the restaurant. “It’s fine, it’s whatever. I just wanted to get this off my chest today so that I can figure things out before I see him in a few days.”

A while later, you finish paying and then all head out together.

The conversation continues to replay itself in your head, and you realize there is one thing you’re curious about. You turn to Mingyu. “By the way—Mingyu, why *did* you ask Jeonghan if we were actually dating?”

Mingyu stops mid-stride and freezes like a deer in headlights, clearly not expecting your question at all. “I—um, I was asking for a friend.”

“A friend?”

“Yeah, Chan.” He nods a few times in a row. “I thought Chan had a crush on you and I was trying to help him out.”

Strange, seeing as you’ve probably interacted with Chan the least among your friend group. He’s simply too booked and busy to hang out with you, and has been all throughout your college years together.

Oh, and he’s married.

“Like, before he met his wife?” you ask.

Soonyoung starts to cough furiously from where he is a few steps ahead while Mingyu’s cheeks redden the slightest bit.

You vaguely remember the first time the two of you did this, and how it wasn’t anything like how it’s going now.

Tonight is the night you’re supposed to go on your date with Jeonghan, and you’ve been buzzing with nerves since the night before. You have no idea what to expect for tonight since all he told you about it was to show up at his apartment, and that in itself was slightly concerning as you’ve never been to his home before nor has he been so secretive about any plans. Usually the two of you would be going to a casual place or would have the schedule shared ahead of time if it was a more formal event that needed preparation.

Jeonghan buzzes you in when you arrive and before you can say you’ll wait for him in the lobby, he tells you to go up to his unit. Again, a bit strange. You do as he asks though, and then even go to knock on the door when there’s no sign of him coming out.

When he opens the door and steps aside, that’s when everything clicks—you’re not here so that he can get his car and take you to your date location. This *is* the date location.

Beyond the doorway, you can see that his apartment is completely decorated. Rose petals line the sides of the hall and lead to the dining table, covered in a deep red tablecloth and perfectly set for your meal. Beside it, a large bouquet of roses rests at the center of the sideboard surrounded by a row of flickering candles which light up the space.

Even without knowing what his home normally looks like, it’s obvious that all this would’ve taken a lot of effort to set up.

“Jeonghan, why did you prepare all this?”

He gives you a dazzling smile. “Because my darling deserves the best, of course. I told you I was going to make it up to you for cancelling Christmas.”

“Babe, that’s too sweet of you. You really didn’t have to.” You try to return his smile but it doesn’t come easy when this whole situation is overwhelming. Then you let him take your coat and then guide you to the dining table where everything is set up.

Only when you’re seated do you realize that his response doesn’t answer your question at all.

The scent of the roses fill the room and looking at them gives you a pang in your heart. This is what the two of you used to make fun of—these big, romantic gestures, and the couples that willingly eat them up. Now it’s as if the tables have turned and you don’t know what to think.

If this were in public, in front of your friends or other people, you would’ve said that it was another funny gesture that Jeonghan put up for the sake of making them cringe. Because the two of you were the perfect joking, prankster couple, right?

Now that it’s just you and him here, it confuses you as to why he’s going to such lengths for a joke when it’s something that no one else would see, when there’s no audience to watch his performance.

You watch as Jeonghan busies himself in the kitchen, serving the food that he’s prepared and pouring the wine into glasses while glancing your way every once in a while. He looks pleased, you note, and he should be if he got his space to look this beautiful. But you can sense that there’s something else too, almost like a nervousness that sits on his shoulder every time he breezes past you and makes eye contact for the briefest second.

After everything is ready, he finally takes a seat across from you and the dinner begins.

Making small talk is easy at first; you comment on your surprise at this type of date, talk about how cold it’s been lately and how it sucks that your company is forcing you to go back into the office. You ask him how his holiday went and how his family has been, and mention how cute his sister’s new puppy is after seeing a post about it on her social media.

You know you’re just delaying the inevitable. Somehow you get the feeling he knows it too, judging by the way his answers are shorter than usual and how your conversation feels so superficial. So this time after there’s a lull in the conversation, you decide to go for it.

"Jeonghan, um…"

"Hmm?" He looks at you and waits for you to continue, but you don't. Or rather, you can't. "Ah, you're going to comment on how good this is, right?" he says instead, as if supplying you with a way out.

You're all too eager to grab onto it. "Wow, you read my mind." An enthusiastic nod, a slight look of surprise. "It's amazing. Did you make all this yourself?"

Jeonghan shakes his head and then follows up with a sheepish smile. "Partly. The rest is store bought."

Another nod, and then it just ends there again. Seated in this spot with the soft lighting of flickering candles cast against the wall and the heat of Jeonghan's gaze on you, the feeling of discomfort only grows. It's hard to remember what the two of you were like before, during the days when everything seemed so silly–when each move was a clearly defined act between two actors and the world was your stage. And most importantly, when each smile he showed you didn't send your stomach into somersaults or your mind into a loop of second guessing.

The air is so heavy and stifling that you grab your glass and down a large gulp of the wine. At least when you're drinking, you wouldn’t have to speak, whether that might be responding to him in a way that gives away all of your thoughts, or completely spilling them out yourself. Maybe the alcohol will also drown out some of your anxieties and–

"Hey, slow down." Jeonghan glances at you with worry. "We have all night."

You set the glass down, albeit a bit reluctantly. "Right, sorry. This wine is just so good."

Yet another lie, but what's one more at this point? The wine is much too sour and leaves a bitter taste in your mouth. You would've much preferred a soda or bubble tea, and drinking something fancy like this during such a fancy occasion makes you feel like you're pretending to be someone you're not.

Which is exactly what you're doing, isn't it? You've been living a lie this entire time.

You briefly wonder if Jeonghan feels the same way—the two of you have never properly spent time alone in complete privacy, and to have your first time be in such a formal atmosphere must feel strange. But if he's uncomfortable, he makes no sign of showing it. Or maybe he's always been the better actor of the two of you.

“You know, since you mentioned seasonal depression, I was thinking that for Christmas this year we should go somewhere. Somewhere warm and sunny to get away from the cold.”

“Oh, this year?” you repeat stupidly when you can’t quite believe what you’re hearing. Jeonghan wants to continue this thing? And here you were, thinking that he was about to end it at any moment for the past few months. “Um, yeah. That would be nice.”

“Or it could be a fall trip. Your parents have been wanting to go see the leaves change colour, right?”

There’s no hint of sarcasm on his face and no playful twinkle in his eye, and even though no one can read him very well, you know enough to tell that he’s being serious. You also know that what he’s saying makes no sense at all.

“Right, yeah. They’ve been wanting to do that.”

“Y/N, are you okay?”

“Yeah,” you reply automatically, and then reach for another long gulp of your drink. “Yup, all good.”

Jeonghan frowns, a tiny crease appearing between his brows. “Are you sure? If you want to talk about it, I’m here to listen.”

It’s strange, the way he looks at you. Jeonghan, who dances around questions and deflects easily with humour and only shows people what he wants them to see, now has worry filling his eyes as he waits for you to continue. As if he *knows*.

You doubt Soonyoung and Seungkwan would have spilled your secret so easily, but there’s a great possibility that the two of them would be unable to act normal around him after what they learned, and unintentionally hint at the truth. Then there’s the other possibility that Jeonghan knew way before any of this. Because maybe he—

No, you don’t want to think about that.

“It’s just that,” you say, having to force yourself to pause and slow down your thoughts before something terrible comes spewing out. A slow inhale, a shaky exhale. “Why are we here, Jeonghan?”

His frown deepens, but now it’s turned into confusion. “What do you mean?”

“What are we doing? This date has been nice, but I’m just very confused over why you put so much effort into this when there’s no one else around to see it. Weren’t we doing all of this as a joke? As a prank? Pretending to be a couple so that we can fool the world since that’s exactly what they wanted to see, but joke’s on them because we’re not?”

Jeonghan watches you silently with an unreadable look on his face. “Is that how you feel?”

“’Well, yes, because isn’t that the truth? And now, we’ve been doing so much together that it doesn’t feel like a joke anymore. How can it be when your mom is offering to give me homemade side dishes? Or—or when Chan’s wife was there, smiling at us on her wedding day like she wished we’d be just as happy as they are?” You pause to look at him and then proceed to look away. “How long are we going to continue lying to the world? Because I can’t stand the guilt.”

The last part of that may be true, but it’s not the full truth.

“Yeah, you’re right. We don’t have to keep doing this.”

“W—what?” You stare at him, dumbfounded.

Jeonghan sighs deeply and then meets your eyes, but then quickly looks away. “Yeah, we should’ve left this in high school. The joke has kind of gotten old, hasn’t it?”

You have no idea what he means by any of that, but it feels like you’re better off not knowing. The tension in the air is thick, and even when you imagined your fake breakup hundreds of times in your head, this is not something you could have predicted. It’s as you’re on a precipice, and one wrong move will delete all those years, all that time you spent with him.

And the worst part is that you don’t even want to break up.

“Jeonghan, look. I know all of this is supposed to be a joke, but why is it that it feels like you really do care?” One last deep breath before you make the jump. “And why is it that I *want* you to care?”

That has him stunned for a second, so much that the expression is obvious on his face in a way that almost never happens.

“Wait, what? I do care. No, I get that we started all this for fun back then, but that’s not how I feel about it now. Everything we’ve done is real—trust me, I wouldn’t have brought you to my family if that wasn’t the case. And I never thought I was lying to them. It’s exaggerated, yes, and much too dramatic, but I’m not a good enough actor where all that can be based on a complete lie.”

You braced yourself for the final blow, only to be completely confused over his words. “What are you saying?”

“Y/N, it’s always been real to me. All of it.”

“But—but I thought you wanted to stop all this when you cancelled our plans for Christmas. Why did you do that?”

Jeonghan opens his mouth a little but then closes it again. “Do you remember last year at Chan’s wedding when you caught the bouquet?”

You nod but don’t hide your confusion about where this is going.

“After you caught it, everyone was looking at you… and then at me. It was like they all expected us to be next, because well,” he shrugs, “everyone thought we were together. And that’s when I realized that this is more than simply feeling like it’s real. We were turning it into something real.”

“So you called off Christmas because you wanted to stop doing this? Because you hated how it was becoming real?”

“No,” Jeonghan shakes his head. “The opposite. I was afraid of how much I liked that it felt real. That day at the wedding, I—I wanted to kiss you for real, Y/N. Not have to fake it.”

“Oh…”

“If we did meet up for Christmas, I don’t know what might’ve happened. I thought it was safer to stay away for a bit and gather my thoughts.” He hesitates slightly and you can see the pained smile he has on. “But one day into the holidays and I was already regretting my decision.”

You don’t know what to say to that. Your mind is hardly listening anymore when it keeps on repeating Jeonghan’s words like a broken record, screaming to you that it’s real, that all of it is real. That you’re not the only one who’s been feeling this way, and that you won’t need to stage a fake breakup for your fake relationship.

“Are you okay?” he asks, breaking you out of your thoughts.

“I’m just—are you sure all this is real? Jeonghan, are you being serious?”

He breaks into a tender smile. “Don’t you remember? I already answered you back then, Y/N.”

“What do you mean?”

“You asked me if I’d be your darling, even if thousands of miles may separate us, even if—”

“—if the paths we walk may crumble,” you finish off. “Or something like that. I actually have no idea what we said back then.”

Those were the lines in the play that you did back in high school, the very lines that the two of you conjured out of thin air one day and the very moment that started this whole thing.

“Yeah, that,” he says softly.

“Hmm, so, babe,” you put on your usual mockingly sweet tone, repeating the line that you said on stage many years ago, “are you going to kiss me?”

Jeonghan holds back a smile like he can’t contain his happiness, and follows with his line without missing a beat. “If that’s what my darling wants.”

The smile only widens when he gets up from his seat and you go to meet him halfway, and it’s the last thing you see when he leans in closer and closer. Jeonghan gently slides his thumb between his lips and yours as he closes the distance, like how it was done the very first time, but this time you can feel it as he slowly moves it away.

Then you’re kissing him, actually kissing him for real for the first time. His lips are soft and warm, and the bit of hesitance between you seems to completely melt away as you wrap your arms around him and he pulls you closer. You let yourself drown in his scent, the warmth of his touch, and the loud pounding of your heart now that you no longer have to be paying attention to the reactions of the people around you. Nothing else matters anymore, all that matters is what you have now.

You spend the rest of the night catching up, whether that’d be stories over the years of shared memories, or creating new memories to make up for the lost time. He tells you he loves you and that the trip suggestions were very much real, and the two of you laugh over how you’ve become the exact couple you once mocked. It’s easy to understand them now though, you think as Jeonghan gives you a sleepy smile as you’re cuddled up on the couch.

“Oh yeah, I wanted to ask something,” you say, and he looks at you in alarm at your abruptness. “Why did you tell Mingyu that we were together?”

Jeonghan stays silent for a bit, narrowing his eyes as if having difficulty recalling what you’re talking about. Then he finally answers. “Oh that?” He chuckles. “That was because I didn’t want him to think he had a chance with you.”

#jeonghan x reader #jeonghan x you #seventeen fluff #seventeen scenarios #seventeen fic #jeonghan fic #my fic #if you asked me just last week if i was ever gonna post again #i might've said no HAHAHA #truly this came out of nowhere!! and yes it's so rushed OTL #not a brand new idea tho bc it's smth i've been thinking about over the years #kinda inspired by an iconic tumblr post!!#tbh the first jeonghan fic on this blog was gonna be #his story of the holiday party series (i wrote 6k in dec and gave up)#was gonna scrap it but i reread it this week and it's not bad??#so try again this year ig 🤡

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crybaby-bkg · 2 months ago

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serial killer gojo who likes to stalk you on campus. watch you from across the cafeteria. follows you to your male friends dorm, who ends up maimed the next morning.

who gets tired of never being seen, even though he’s brighter than a fucking dying star on campus, and yet you never notice him. who gets tired when the campus is empty and you’re all alone. finds a knife that’s almost bigger than your head and chases you across the open fields.

he’s laughing, the whole time. his head thrown back and his smile wide as the blade hangs limply at his sides, as if not in threat. as if your heart doesn’t beat so hard against your ribcage, that you think you hear the bones crack with every thud. like your bleeding heart may burst from your skin and splatter onto the ground before you.

he’s a killer, but he’s kind. he’s a killer, but not to you, never to you. holds you so sweetly when he catches you, because of course; he was always going to catch you. licks away your tears and smiles at you, disarming, everything and not. his eyes too ocean wide, his teeth too bone white. you see your reflection in his incisors. you see prey. you see your reflection in his eyes. you see love. it’s always been love for him.

all you have to do now is accept it.

#try to write gojo normal challenge #I wasn’t gonna do kinktober this year but I might #do this singular ☝🏼 fic #idk tho I have been so Sad lately lol #I think I need to up my meds #—new treat in the streets! 🍫#gojo treats! 🍬#ask to tag #tw: horror

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finelinevogue · 2 years ago

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tears of love

summary - a whole bunch of tears and a whole bunch of love for the album of the year grammy winner

warnings: swearing, tears, shyness?!, slight media hate mention

word count: +3.6k

pairing: new-boyfriend!harry x reader

The night before the Grammys, Harry had never been more stressed.

He had tried everything to get himself to sleep, but no amount of lavender spray or chamomile tea could get his eyes to close.

He knew he needed a good night's sleep if he wanted to survive the next day, but not even a soothing bubble bath helped him settle down. So he resorted to the one person he knew would help him fall asleep, but he had been too shy to contact at first.

His phone rang as he waited for you to pick up, his bitten nails a clear sign that he was stressed with both not being able to sleep and calling you.

“Hi lovie. I’m not keeping you from anything am I?” He asked, not wanting to ruin your nighttime routine.

“No, no. Not at all. Wouldn’t even matter if you were anyways.”

Harry smiled and laid back on his bed, running a hand over his forehead and back through his hair. He pictured you in a similar position, laying in your own bed across the city. He wished you could be laying beside him instead, but your relationship was only recently new and it was too soon to be sleeping over.

There had been too many people coming and going in Harry’s life that it took him a little longer than most people to become comfortable, and safe, around the people he was dating. He was beginning to think you may be the exception though. There weren't many nights he wasn’t thinking of having you next to him always. He craved the intimacy of falling asleep with you and then waking up in the morning with you still wrapped around him.

For now, he would have to deal with the fact you were across town and would see you in a matter of hours to get ready for the Grammys.

“Thank you.” Harry said quietly, more for himself than you.

“I forgot to tell you earlier, but my mum says have fun tomorrow.” You said.

“I wish she could be there with us all. I wish my own mum could be there, y’know?” Harry sadly chuckled, wishing more than anything he could spend more time with his loved ones and ones who love him.

“I have no doubt she has subscribed to Paramount plus especially to watch the Grammys, lovie.” That much you knew. Harry chuckled and nodded because he knew you were right. His mum was his biggest supporter, as any mum should be, and he was lucky to have a mum like her.

“I know.”

“She’s so proud of you, H.” You made sure he was reminded.

“I’m more proud of her.”

“Give yourself a little credit. You’ve not always had it easy either. The way the media harrasses you, I would have given up years ago.”

“I wouldn’t have let you give up, just like you don’t let me.”

“You didn’t know me way back when, H.” You chuckled over the phone and Harry’s heart beamed like sunshine at the sound. There was no better sound for him now. Not even awards calling his name.

“I wish I did. I wish I could have met you sooner.” He replied honestly, moving one hand onto his chest and over his heart where it stopped. If he pressed hard enough he could feel you there, where his heart was beating a little extra rapidly for you. No one had ever made him or his heart feel the way you do and his biggest regret in life was not having found you and that feeling years ago. Now you existed in his life, it made all the other moments seem insignificant to the ones you were now creating together.

“Don’t think about it like we’ve wasted time, lovie. Think about it like we needed to break and fix our own hearts, to become stronger, before we could find the strength to begin again with each other. I think my heart is stronger for you than anyone else because of all the heartbreak it took to find you.”

Late night conversations with you were not a rarity, but it wasn’t common for you both to be so ‘heart-on-sleeve’ with each other. You were only 3 months into your relationship, having spoken for a couple months before that too, but both of you clearly felt something more than just a simple attraction for one another. Harry didn’t want to call it love, because he knew the consequences of falling in love too quickly, but he was scared that’s just what his feeling for you was. Little did he know you felt exactly the same way.

“I…” Harry had to stop himself short, “I think my heart is stronger for you too.”

Harry looked up at his white ceiling, running a hand over his stubble beard that he would have to shave in the morning. Then he looked over to the other side of the bed. The neat side of the bed, where the sheet was still tucked into the mattress. He ran his hand over the expanse of the vacant bed and swallowed back a tearful lump at the back of this throat.

“I miss you.” Harry said softly.

What he really meant to say was; I need you here. I love you.

You were quiet for a moment, making Harry think he said the wrong thing, but it was only because you were trying not to cry. Your heart hurt over the thought of it taking so much courage for Harry to be so open with his words. His feelings had often been so vulnerable to the crazed media and ex-partners, but with you he had never felt so safe. His feelings had never felt more protected and accepted. You knew what his words really meant and he could tell what you meant when you whispered the words back too. “I miss you too.”

I love you too.

•••••••••

Harry had gotten a good seven hours of sleep.

You had gotten a few more, since Harry had stayed on the phone to tell you stories of his life to lull you to sleep. Something about knowing you were peacefully sleeping made Harry fall asleep so easily. He knew you would be able to help, even if you didn’t realise it.

It was now only an hour before Harry had to head off to the Grammy red carpet venue. It was so hectic in his house, where he was hosting pre-drinks and the getting ready antics. Harry Lambert was busy ironing all of Harry’s outfits for the 15th time and Anthony would not stop taking photos. Jeff was busy social networking with Harry’s friends and family, whilst Harry was busy checking his phone for text messages off you.

Y/N: I’m here xx

Harry smiled, leaving his phone on top of his kitchen counter before jogging to his front door in excitement. He was dressed in a rainbow patterned jumpsuit and white boots, his hair styled so perfectly. He looked so fun and young, representing the younger generation of artists this evening.

He opened his front door and smiled so brightly when he saw you standing at the front door looking so pretty. Your hands were cradling a box of cupcakes, a bunch of flowers and a heart-shaped balloon. All of the gifts were lovely, but nothing could put a bigger smile on his face than you.

“Baby…” He pouted when he saw you, cupping his hands over his cheeks as his mouth gaped in shock.

“Surprise! Happy Grammy day!” You giggled excitedly, laughing at his initial shock and love-heart eyes on you.

“You didn’t have to do any of this.” He put his hands over his heart, itching to just have you in his arms now.

He moved forward to take the cakes and flowers off of you, placing his other hand on your waist to tug you closer to him. He softly laughed as he desperately pulled you closer and titled his head down to kiss you. He didn’t wait a single second to kiss you senseless, giving you more than just a sweet peck. Your hand not holding the balloon snaked up to around his neck and held him close, making his lips crush over yours again and again.

He tasted like a winner already with your cherry soaked lips on his.

You pulled away flustered, cheeks blushing and lips wanting so much more. You licked your lips to conceal Harry’s taste with you and Harry’s beady eyes watched every movement like he would be tested on it later.

“Y’look amazing.” Harry spoke quietly, just wanting his words to be heard by your ears.

“Thank you.” You blushed, not knowing how else to respond. “Did you forget a t-shirt?” You joked, snaking your hand down from around his neck and over his chest. His skin reacted by giving him a chill of goosebumps and a sense of pride rushed over you for being able to make him react in such a way.

“Just thought I’d get my tits out for you, baby.” He joked in return.

“And your millions of fans.” You patted his chest right over his heart he had been touching before.

“No. Just for you.” Harry reiterated, needing you to understand, like most things, he did this for you. He knew how much you loved it when he embraced his own masculinity and showcased who he truly was with his clothing, so when it came to choosing outfits for events he always kept you in mind and what you thought might be a good option. It seemed he had chosen well with the way your eyes had dilated upon taking him all in.

Harry couldn’t help but lean in to kiss you one more time, turning into two, three and four. You smiled into the end two, making it harder for Harry to kiss your soft lips but he made do anyway. He couldn’t get enough of you, not even caring that he now had lipstick on and around his own lips.

“Are you coming in?” Harry asked, always making sure you were comfortable with everything before making you actually do it.

“I need the loo, so yes please.” You nodded. Harry took your spare hand in his and he walked you through the front door, shutting it with his foot behind him.

He could tell you were nervous by the slight tremor in the hand he was holding, but he gave you a soft squeeze to let you know you were alright. He realised it was daunting to be in a room with a group of people you barely knew, apart from Harry Lambert and Jeff, so he made sure to stick close by.

All Harry ever talked about to his friends was his undying adoration for you, but the majority of them had yet to meet you because Harry enjoyed keeping you just his for as long as possible. Your relationship wasn’t public, but even if it was your social media were private so the fans wouldn’t get a hold of anything anyways. Harry’s friends knew he had someone romantic in his life, because his smile hadn’t been so bright in years.

They were all excited to meet the person responsible for the rebirth of Harry’s happiness.

“Y/N!” Harry Lambert shouted across the room, putting down his iron and walking over to you with open arms. You would’ve done the same, but Harry kept a grounding hold on your hand, which you were very thankful for, and so you let Harry Lambert reach you before hugging him the best you could.

“Hi!” You laughed as Harry Lambert hugged you.

“Oh you look incredible, darling!” He gasped as your outfit, similar to the way your Harry had.

“Thank you.” You, once again, blushed.

“Harry is very lucky.”

“I know.” Your Harry spoke up, pulling you back into his side with a tug of your hand. You smiled as he kissed the top of your head, feeling the butterflies all over. Your nerves were already calming just by having him close by like this.

“I need pictures of you two later, okay?” Harry Lambert warned you, knowing that you would both try and get out of it.

Once he had walked away, Harry walked you into the kitchen some more and dumped the cakes and flowers on the obscenely large kitchen counter. A chorus of hellos sounded as you both walked in the room and made yourselves present.

Harry took his time introducing you to every person, getting you to hug them as you did so. Everyone was so kind and lovely, complimenting you on your beauty and your outfit and your ability to bring out the best in Harry. You began to feel a little tearful towards the end of greeting people and after you were done you told Harry you were going to the toilet.

He didn’t think twice about it, until you still hadn’t come back after ten minutes. Yes, women stereotypically take longer than men in the toilet but ten minutes was quite long for you. So he went in search of you, seeing as you had to leave in five minutes anyways.

He went straight upstairs to his bedroom, knowing you would’ve chosen his bathroom rather than the downstairs one out of familiarity. He knocked on the door softly before opening it slowly. When he made it inside, he softly shut the door behind him to notice you weren’t in the bedroom. He rounded the corner to the bathroom and that’s when he saw you standing at the bathroom mirror with a tissue, drying away the tears that had clearly been running stray.

“Baby… What happened?” Harry cooed, walking in the room and urging you to face him by cupping your cheeks delicately.

You looked to the ceiling, trying to keep the next round of tears at bay, before shrugging your shoulders at Harry with a sad chuckle. “I don’t know what came over me! Just feeling a lot of emotions right now. Proud of you but then just feeling so loved and accepted by your friends.. It’s.. I.. Just, it’s a lot!” You laughed at how silly it sounded now you were trying to explain how you felt.

“Oh you emotional softie. You’re going to be a right water fountain today, aren’t you?” He rhetorically asked, but you nodded with a laugh regardless.

“I can’t control it!” You exclaimed, your eyes watering over again. Harry chuckled at you, eyes crinkling and dimples showing from smiling so hard. “I’m not even sad. If anything I’m too happy!”

“Well that’s a good thing, hmm?”

“Yes, it is. Sorry!” You apologised for crying, feeling silly. “This is so embarrassing.”

“Cry all you want, baby. It’s your day as much as it is mine. Any wins are yours to celebrate too.”

“Oh fuck off, you’re making me cry again…” You whined and Harry laughed along with your tears, before helping you reset your makeup in time to leave.

•••••••••

You were backstage at the Grammys, in a room large enough to house all of Harry’s friends and family he had brought with him.

Since you two weren’t publicly official, you decided it best if you stayed in the back room whilst Jeff, Kid and Tyler sat at the table with Harry.

You had cried so much already from Harry winning best pop vocal album and his performance was just absolutely perfect. Someone had even had to bring another box of tissues for you, since you’d finished the first one you had been given.

Anthony Pham had been taking photos of all the backstage fun and reactions, since Harry had asked to be kept updated on everything. Especially all of your reactions and enthusiasm. You had recorded yourself dancing and singing to his performance, ready to show him later.

“Oh my god, it’s the album of the year category.” Someone screamed and you pulled yourself away from the conversation you were having with Sarah to watch the screen.

You were already sitting on the sofa, but the next few moments of your life would be grateful for that.

The fans of the artists lined up on the stage, ready to give their respective artists the Grammy. Harry’s fan was an older woman and you aspired to be her when you were older. You couldn’t wait for the day you were 70 years old and still attending a Harry Styles concert with a feather boa. The woman was so cute and she reminded you of your grandma. Harry loved interacting with old people, so you were sure he would find her and hug her no matter the outcome of the award.

Trevor Noah stood centre stage and held the card in his hand. Everyone was on the edge of their seats waiting to hear the reveal for the biggest and most prestigious category the Grammys offered.

“And the Grammy for album of the year goes to…” Trevor said.

He opened the envelope and paused for dramatic effect.

You sat on the edge of the sofa, your leg bouncing anxiously. You clasped your hands together and stared at the screen so you didn’t miss a single moment.

You were confused when Trevor didn’t announce the winner and instead moved over the fan of Harry. People in the room around you started to gasp lightly, catching on to what might be. Then the woman shakily held onto Trevor as she said the name.

“H-Harry Styles.” She said before screaming in congratulations.

Your head fell into your hands as you sobbed. You had never cried so hard before, but this was an emotion worthy moment. Your sobs were heavy and loud, but they were silenced by the roar of cheers and laughter in the room. You were too buried in your hands to see, but everyone was up and screaming for Harry, running around the room. Sarah and Mitch had collapsed on one another in happiness.

Someone came and hugged you from where you were hunched over. “He did it, Y/N, he did it!” They screamed excitedly and you couldn’t help but just cry and cry. You had never felt pride like this.

Your emotions were so strong for someone who you’d only gotten to know for a mere five months. You were overwhelmed by how you felt for Harry in that moment, feeling nothing but… love.

Taking your face out of your hands you sat up and watched him with blurry eyes on the screen with his award. He himself looked really tearful and shaky with adrenaline. You just couldn’t put into words how you felt in that moment.

The next five minutes were a complete blur. From Harry accepting the award from the woman, to Harry’s speech with Tyler and Kid. After they walked offstage you started crying all over again the minute someone said; “Harry is a three time Grammy winner!”

You had no idea what you were going to say to him when you saw him, even if you saw him again tonight. No doubt he would be swept up in interviews, photos and parties. No matter, because you would have the rest of forever to express how proud you were of him.

Anthony was busy snapping photos and you reminded yourself to have a look at them later, when you could actually see past your blurry eyes.

As you started blowing your nose on a new tissue the uproar in the room started again and you shot your head around to see what was going on, only to see your boyfriend walk into the room with his Grammy held high. He cheered as his eyes watered, people patting him and ruffling his hair. Sarah gave him a tight hug and he kept on thanking her, no doubt because she had much of a part in the album as Harry did.

You kept back, wanting Harry to get treated with the love from his closest friends and family first. You kept crying, picking out new tissues from the box every twenty seconds from how quickly you were using them. You definitely knew you looked a state, shoulders shaking from crying and clapping your hands in cheer.

Harry’s eyes kept on you as he hugged the last few people, not turning his head away for one moment. You shook your head as you warned him not to come close, because he would only make the crying worse. You held out your hand to keep him at bay, walking backwards as he walked forwards. Harry was quicker than you, though, and used the arm not holding his Grammy to pick you up at the waist and give you a twirl. He spun you around, before safely landing you back down.

You laughed out a sob when you finally got to look up at him close. A strand of his hair had fallen down over his forehead, but you made no effort to move it back into place.

Cupping his cheeks with your shaky hands you licked your lips to wipe away the salty tears. His own tears were now silently falling, his eyes intensely focusing on you. His thumb was stroking soothing lines into your back and all you could think about was how he made you feel.

“Harry… I..” You started, hiccuping in between words.

Harry nodded encouragingly, “It’s okay. You can say it.” His eyebrows frowned as he anticipated what you’d say next.

“I.. I love you.” You said with a smile.

Harry smiled nodding. He knew that’s what you wanted to say, because luckily he felt exactly the same way about you.

“I fucking love you, Y/N L/N.” And his lips were on yours for the rest of the night. And the rest of forever.

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unknownarmageddon · 9 months ago

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figured the refs for the guys from my fic sirius were long past due for an update :]

killer belongs to rahafwabas cross belongs to jael peñaloza

#cackles i like them a lot more now i think #especially happy with killer’s i love his #armageddon art #sirius #cross sans #killer sans #utmv #been meaning to do this since the fic’s a year old now #and i tried to not make them Too different but. better #if anyone asks i’ll do a side by side of the old one and the new one #cackles cackles i might start actually drawing them now too

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pippytmi · 8 months ago

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If you are possibly still doing song promts, not sure if you're into country music however, "Unforgettable" by Thomas Rhett is a very cute, romantic song that I believe will suit Supercorp very well, thank you.

It is a warm, sticky summer night, and the stars have never been clearer.

Kara watches them, wistful and maybe a little buzzed, stretched out in the back of her pickup while Alex flicks bottle caps below at the guys. James and Winn don’t even notice; they’re still arguing over whether they should take whiskey shots or shotgun beers, both staunchly on opposite sides of this dilemma.

“Hey,” a thought occurs to Kara suddenly, “where did Sam go?”

“To find Lena, I think,” Alex says, squinting at her next target with halfhearted commitment as she leans over the side of the truck. When she throws the next cap, it misses Winn entirely. “Damn. Open another beer, Kara, I need another shot.”

“Who’s Lena?” The name is somewhat familiar, but Kara can’t place it immediately.

“The Luthor girl. Sam’s friend, you know her.” Alex leans back to root through their cooler, and comes up with two more beers. “She’s the one who flaked when Sam tried to set up that double-date, remember?”

“Right, and I had to third-wheel you guys all night.” Kara sits up in order to scan the crowd curiously, one question at the forefront of her mind: “Is she related to Lex Luthor?”

“Yes, that’s why I said the Luthor girl,” Alex says like one might say keep up. “She’s his half-sister or something, I don’t know.” She uses the bottle opener on her keys to pop open one of the beers, handing it over to Kara and immediately moving on to her own.

Kara takes a distracted swig as she continues to look out into the crowd. The lights strung through the trees offer very little in terms of visibility, and it’s hard to make out faces. “I didn't know he had a sister,” she says.

“It's not something he exactly advertises.” Alex takes a re-do of her earlier shot now that she has a fresh bottle cap, and this time it nails Winn right on the side of the head. “Hey, losers! Quit fighting and come get a drink!”

“Not unless you have some beer cans we can shotgun!” Winn shouts back.

“No, no, he means we need some Jack Daniel’s,” James interjects, and they’re off again, shoving playfully at each other’s shoulders as if they are going to push each other into the bonfire.

Alex rolls her eyes. “Boys,” she says derisively. “Let’s get Nia instead, she deserves a drink far more than they do.” She reaches over to bang at the truck’s backseat window. “Wake up, sleeping beauty!”

“Whoa, watch it!” Kara almost spills her drink in her haste to bat Alex’s hand away. “Take it easy. I just got her all fixed up.”

“Oh sure, when Siobhan takes a baseball bat to the glass it’s all fine and dandy, but I can’t even give it a tap?”

Kara crinkles her nose. “She thought it was her ex’s car in the dark, come on. You can’t blame her for that.”

“You are also her ex,” Alex says impatiently.

“But not the ex she was trying to get revenge on,” Kara points out. “She even apologized to Brittney. I think you should, too.”

Alex gives her a dirty look. “For the last time, I will not call your car that.”

“Don’t be a hater, Alex.”

“Don’t be a fucking weirdo, then—”

Before Kara can even enact her own revenge for that comment, she is briefly blinded by one of two flashlights aimed at her face. Beside her, Alex yelps and covers her eyes.

“There you guys are,” Sam exclaims. “I got lost trying to remember where we were. Why did you park so far away?”

“To keep our drinks from the masses, mostly,” Alex says, and she hops up over the side of the truck to pull Sam into her arms. “And for privacy.”

“Ew,” Kara says, and Alex glares at her over her shoulder.

“For Nia, who is sleeping.”

“Still?” Sam grins, momentarily distracted, when Alex presses a kiss to her cheek. “I wanted to introduce her to Lena.”

Just like her name, Lena Luthor has something about her face that strikes Kara as vaguely familiar. Something in the shine of her eyes in the moonlight, in the way she bites on her bottom lip, in the slope of her nose and the cut of her jaw and the hint of a dimple in her cheek. Kara has never laid eyes on Lena Luthor before, but she finds herself unable to look away.

The only reason Kara even realizes she's been staring at Lena too long is when she hears her name:

“And this is Kara, she's Alex’s sister. She drove us here.”

Now it's Kara's turn to be stared at—or more accurately, scrutinized. “While drunk?” Lena says.

Kara snaps back to reality. “I'm not drunk,” she hastily denies, lest that somehow affect her chances with impressing Lena (coincidentally, something she had not been concerned with until this very second). “I've only had two beers, I'm practically sober.”

But when anyone else might be skeptical, Lena merely tilts her head curiously. “Okay, if you say so,” she says in a manner that’s almost…amused. Kara counts it as a win, either way.

“So are beers all we have around here?” Sam asks. “Clearly, Lena and I need to catch up to everyone.”

“We also have whiskey,” James chimes in, while Winn makes a show of gagging.

“Yeah, just beer and whiskey,” Alex affirms. “Kara did the shopping, so….”

Kara bends down to lift up their cooler as if it’s a treasure chest. “We also have Mang-O-Ritas,” she says magnanimously, passing it down to James to pop open.

“Just a regular beer for me, then,” Sam says. “Lena will have the Mang-O-Rita.”

“I’ve never had one before,” Lena says, crossing her arms and leaning against the side of the truck as Sam procures her drink. “Are they any good?”

Kara jumps off the truck in order to fully join their circle (and, okay, closer to Lena. Maybe). “They’re awesome. Don’t listen to whatever Alex tells you, she will 100% drink three of these in one sitting.”

“Only when there’s no other option,” Alex protests.

Lena cracks open her can and takes a cautious sip. “Hm,” she says. “That’s…vile.”

“Poor little rich girl,” Sam coos. “Always such a snob about your liquor.”

“Excuse me for preferring a glass of red over this,” Lena says, but she takes a longer drink immediately afterwards, and Kara falls a little bit in love.

It's always been like that, really—Kara falls in love like breathing air. Eliza used to call her a hopeful romantic because she never liked the term hopeless romantic. (“There is nothing hopeless about finding beauty in everything,” Eliza would promise as she kissed Kara's head. Alex would always be nearby gagging, of course).

Eventually, as the fire begins to die down, they break out the whiskey bottle for shots. Lena, Kara can't help but notice, grimaces at the taste in a way that shouldn't be as cute as it is.

“I need a palate cleanser,” Winn gasps afterwards, ever the drama queen. “Stat.”

“I’ve got one right here for you, it's called Bud Light,” Alex quips.

“Blegh.”

And while Alex and Winn playfully tussle, Kara’s gaze drifts past them and back to Lena. Lena, surprisingly, is looking right back.

“You have grass stains on your jeans,” Lena tells her, and quickly looks away.

Kara glances down. “Oh,” she says, “yeah, it’s the hazard of working on a farm.” She actually got the stains from kneeling down to pet a puppy on the way here, but the farm thing sounds better. “So what do you—”

She never manages to get the question out, because two cars down, someone screams bloody murder and Kara reflexively whips out the pocket knife in her boot. Everyone else is equally alert, until:

“It’s just fucking Mike Matthews again, falling off that eyesore he calls a truck,” Alex scoffs.

“Again? They need to impound that thing,” James says.

Kara is about to chime in with her own horror story about Mike’s truck when she feels a tap at her shoulder; Lena waits until Kara whirls around, befuddled, before she asks,

“Can you pour me another shot?”

Kara blinks. Then blinks again. “Yeah,” she says, even though Winn is the one holding the whiskey bottle. “Yeah, of course.”

Winn gladly relinquishes the bottle when Kara asks, and he and James walk down to Mike’s group to “see if they can help” (i.e. gossip). Sam and Alex take advantage of the chaos to sneak away together (probably to make out somewhere). And Kara is left, terrifyingly enough, alone with Lena Luthor.

Lena coughs after downing the second shot, frowning down at her cup like it’s wronged her. “That is still…not good.”

Kara tries to hide her smile as she looks down, nudges an empty beer bottle away. “Why drink it, then?”

“I don’t know.” Lena pauses to chase the taste away with her Mang-O-Rita before musing, “To get out of my comfort zone, maybe. But then again, pretty much everything here is out of my comfort zone.”

“Oh, I get it,” Kara says. “Rich girl pretending to be normal. It’s very Maid in Manhattan. Or…whatever the opposite of that is.”

“You are…definitely drunk,” Lena says with the tone of someone two seconds from laughter.

Kara vehemently shakes her head. “Nope, no, absolutely not.”

“Mm, you kind of seem like you are,” Lena says.

“I am not, and I can prove it to you.” Kara cradles the whiskey bottle to her chest and prepares herself: “I can do the running man.”

“And that proves you’re not drunk how?”

“Because it's going to be the most flawless dance you've ever seen,” Kara says, immediately kicking her leg out in a shaky attempt, and Lena’s laughter explodes until she is actually hunched over with the force of it.

“Oh, God, please do that again.”

“I'm not sure I like your reaction,” Kara sniffs, taking a mock-defensive step back. “I don't want to do it now.”

“No, come on, I loved it. Really,” Lena says. Her Mang-O-Rita has spilled into the grass, and she has to stoop down to pick up the can, ruefully shaking it when she notices it's empty. “Maybe I need to slow down. Is there somewhere we can sit?”

“Yeah,” Kara says, waving the whiskey bottle to beckon Lena to follow, and she guides her to the back of the pickup. She shrugs off her jacket, laying it out for Lena to sit, and Lena gives her a small smile when she does; it feels like they’re in their own world, kept company only by the stars and the occasional crackle of the dying bonfire.

“So you work on a farm?” Lena has to lean slightly against Kara to get comfortable, and Kara holds her breath to keep from jumping.

“Yup, my parents’ farm,” Kara barely remembers to answer. “Nothing glamorous like you and your brother, I'm sure.”

“I didn't know you knew about…that,” Lena says.

Kara shrugs, feels her shoulder directly move against Lena’s. “Kind of hard not to,” she says apologetically. “I mean, the Luthor name is on just about every business in town.” She twists the whiskey bottle between her hands, listens to it slosh. “If it helps…none of us care about that.”

“Really,” Lena says, disbelievingly but still light enough to invite a follow-up, which Kara wastes zero time in grasping.

“One hundred percent,” Kara promises. “We never judge a book by its cover. Not even,” she pauses to whisper this next part, “people who stand up their dates on a dreaded double-date with their sister.”

Lena gasps. “That was not you.”

“It was,” Kara laughs, just self-conscious enough to slick her hair out of her eyes. “Didn’t Sam tell you?”

“No—all she said was you were fun,” Lena says. “And she promised to try and set me up again, another time.” She shifts, now fully shoulder-to-shoulder against Kara. “Oh my God. Is that what tonight is?”

“Alex didn’t tell me anything,” Kara wonders, “but it would make sense…”

Lena scoffs. “This would be a horrible date,” she says, almost to herself. Then, hurriedly, “Not because of you, but because of everything else. The drinks, the place, the…lack of indoor plumbing…”

“So you’re too good for whiskey, tailgate parties, and porta potties,” Kara lists off. “Hm. I don’t know, Lena. This date is off to a rough start.”

“Oh, shut up.” Lena reaches across their bodies for the whiskey bottle, and her fingers tangle with Kara’s as she takes it. Lena uncaps it and takes a swig, coughing as soon as she lowers the bottle, and Kara smiles even if Lena can’t see it.

“What happened to slowing down?”

“That was before I realized this was a date,” Lena says without a lick of shame. “Sue me—I’m nervous.”

“You don’t have to be,” Kara says softly, and she shuts her eyes, inhales the smoke of the fire and the sweet, floral scent of Lena’s perfume. “We can just be friends, too. No pressure.”

“And you’d be okay with that?” Lena asks, her voice quiet but undoubtedly curious. “Am I not the kind of girl you want to date?”

Kara immediately straightens up. “Are you kidding? I would marry you, probably, if I could. In a good way,” she hastens to explain. “In a…general, you-seem-like-the-kind-of-nice-to-marry. Hypothetically.”

Lena exhales, and there’s a hint of a smile in her own voice when she says, “You’re coming on awful strong for a first date, Kara Danvers.”

“Sorry.” Kara slumps against the floor, sighing as the whiskey finally starts catching up to her, leaving her slightly dizzy and uncoordinated as she stares up at the night sky.

But then Lena is moving, twisting until she is half-hovering over Kara, beautifully framed by moonlight and the haze from the fire beside them. “I can’t promise marriage yet,” she says, “but I think I can do a second date.”

Kara blinks, slowly, and her grin forms before she can even try to hide it. “Really?”

“Only if I can choose the place,” Lena says. “And if you never make me drink that awful margarita again.”

“Deal,” Kara says, making room for Lena to squeeze in beside her, light-headed for a whole new reason as Lena rests her head on Kara’s arm. “But I really think you should give the Mang-O-Rita another try. Just, for the record.”

“Shhh, don’t ruin this,” Lena says, tapping Kara’s mouth with her finger, and Kara keeps on smiling.

(And later, when they’ve sobered up, Kara will kiss Lena goodnight; later still, Lena will deny that she tasted of that damned Mang-O-Rita, but only Kara will know the truth).

#this ask is...years old in my inbox so forgive me for this but i HAD to express my love for sc + this song in a fun little AU #supercorp #supergirl #i need a fic tag #i love hearing new songs that i vibe with - this one is now on my 'country i will allow' playlist <3 #jaykr13 #i have countless old prompts still in my inbox but. would yall believe it if i say im trying to clear them lmfao

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