#supercorp prompts
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in dire need of some kara comforting lena and being soft soft like lena deserves so pls hmu in the anons if you have a fic rec like that OR OR give me h/c prompts :)
#kara x lena#karalena#karlena#supercorp#supercorp story ideas#supercorp prompts#lena luthor#kara danvers
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A chef!AU, maybe? In any case, a story in which Kara and Lena meet through one of them preparing/serving/etc food for the other and build their relationship based on that.
(also on ao3.)
“I’m telling you, Alex. It’s her.”
At three pm on a Tuesday their restaurant is characteristically dead, save for the one lone customer Kara is spying on from behind the kitchen doors. The woman is perched, a little perilously, on a barstool at the counter. It’s the one that’s closest to their register, the one with the wobbly leg that Alex keeps telling Kara to fix. One of her red-soled heels is dangling from an impatiently bouncing left foot.
“This is the fourth time this week she’s come in here,” Kara says. “You don’t think that’s just a little bit suspicious?”
Alex shrugs, fully committed to her task of mincing onions. “Maybe she’s just a big fan of Italian food.”
“No way,” Kara says. “No woman who looks like that would put something in her mouth that wasn’t clearly marked gluten-free and vegan. Give me your phone.”
Alex rolls her eyes dramatically as she elbows it over. “Tell me again how you’re totally over Siobhan.”
“Oral sex isn’t a moral issue!” Kara takes a decisive breath while she unlocks her sister’s phone with practiced ease. “Whatever. Water under the bridge.”
“Uh-huh.”
“A love for pasta also doesn't explain why I heard this woman answer a call yesterday with a different name than the one that’s on her credit card,” Kara points out, before snapping a quick picture through the porthole window.
“Okay, now you’re being creepy,” Alex says.
“Shut up,” Kara tells her. “I’m texting Winn.”
Kara eyes the woman at the counter while she waits for his reply. The subject of her suspicion—Lena, she’d called herself on the phone; Tess Mercer, it had said on her mastercard—twists a soft-looking lock of dark hair around her finger as she studies their menu. The way the sunlight sets it ablaze almost makes Kara take a second picture, purely for its artistic merit.
Alex dabs at her onion-induced tears with the cuff of her sleeve. “Let it go, Kara,” she sighs.
“Let it go? Let it—” Kara whirls back to face her, throwing her hands up in frustration. “Do you want The Tower to end up like Winn and James’ steakhouse? Or are you fine with getting swindled by this—this… villain?”
“Of course not.” Alex looks at her like she’s stupid. “But even if this woman is your so-called ‘food influencer’, what do you suggest we do about it? It’s not as if we can bully her into giving us a fair review.”
Kara squares her jaw and sets her fists firmly on her hips. “No,” she declares, her tone grim. “But we can teach her a little about journalistic integrity.” She blows at a lock of hair that’s fallen in her face. “And also, possibly, credit card fraud.”
Alex narrows her eyes at her. “Kara,” she warns, putting down her knife. Her voice is low and cautious, as if she’s talking to the rowdy raccoon that moved into their dumpster three weeks ago instead of to her baby sister. “Let’s just take a breath and think about this for a m—”
Kara is already gone, the doors to the kitchen swinging closed behind her. Sliding into the cluttered space behind the counter, she crosses her arms and then drops her elbows on the bar, leaning what she belatedly realizes is probably a little too close to her adversary. She’s close enough to make out the individual downy hairs on her chin and the lines in her painted lips, which are still pursed thoughtfully in what Kara is sure would look like an attractive pout to someone who didn’t know any better.
But Kara knows so much better.
“Let me guess,” she remembers to get out, much less biting than originally intended. “Today you’ll be having the fifth entrée down the list.”
As soon as their eyes meet over the miniscule amount of space left between them, Kara knows leaning in was a fatal mistake. Her nemesis blinks up at her with wide, startled eyes that remind Kara of the glass pebbles she finds on the beach on her morning walks, not-quite-blue and not-quite-green, and for a moment Kara’s brain sputters out as if someone abruptly turned off the flames that kept it cooking.
But the woman recovers fast, like the scheming scoundrel that she is. She guiltily shutters her eyes behind thick, charcoal lashes, and Kara’s temper revives at the observation that her enemy isn’t as good of an actress as she thinks she is.
“I’ve actually been thinking of breaking my own rule,” she says, with a smile that lands somewhere between self-deprecating and apologetic. “I may give in and order the same thing you served me yesterday.” Kara goes hot all over with righteous indignation at the rich timbre of the woman’s voice, the almost flirtatious lilt it takes on when she adds, “I haven’t been able to stop dreaming about it.”
Kara pulls back a little in an effort to escape that curious gaze, the enticing scent of the woman’s perfume. It’s sweet enough to drown out even Alex’s mountain of onions. “I know what you’re doing,” she blusters.
The—frankly unfairly beautiful—soulless grifter stares at her, stricken. “I’m—I’m sorry?”
“You should be,” Kara says. “I know who you are.” And then, as if she’s putting down the last card in a game of Uno, “Lena.”
The woman goes very still for a moment, and then the corners of her lips tug down in a bitter semblance of a smile. “I see,” she says. She’s rigid, regal; she’s royalty perched on a wobbly wooden stool. “And am I to assume that’s enough for you to turn down my patronage?”
Kara’s resolve wobbles, too. She hadn’t expected her adversary—Lena, she now knows—to roll over so easily. “Well, yeah, obviously,” she flusters, her energy suddenly too large and lumbering in the face of Lena’s deference. “Winn and James are family.”
“Family.” There’s a flicker of wistfulness in Lena’s voice, before confusion colors her features. “So the cold shoulder,” she says. “It’s personal?”
Kara scoffs. The fraudster doesn’t even remember the names of her latest victims. Typical. “It was their steakhouse that you razed to the ground last month,” Kara reminds her.
Lena blinks at her. “The establishment just up the road?” She raises a critical eyebrow. “I’m pretty sure they set themselves up for failure when they decided to name their restaurant Misteak.”
Kara huffs. Her air quotes are appropriately vicious when she says, “They were doing just fine before your slanderous ‘review’ went viral.”
Lena does a remarkably convincing impression of someone who is genuinely flabbergasted. “I don’t even know what that means.”
“Liar.”
Lena’s shocked laughter is bright but brief. It’s the first time Kara has heard her laugh. It’s maddeningly attractive and deeply annoying.
“Okay,” Lena says. She folds her arms in front of her chest and leans back a little in her seat, unaware of its delicate disposition. A smirk tugs at one corner of her mouth. “Tell me,” she says, her eyes narrowing. “Who do you think I am, exactly?”
Kara leans in close again, refusing to allow Lena to get the upper hand. She’d like to wipe that smirk from Lena’s face—manually, if need be—preferably, even, if it means she’d get to smudge that infuriatingly immaculate lipstick with her thumb—
“You,” Kara charges, in an effort to drown out that unhelpful thought, “are a fraud. You call yourself a ‘mystery food critic’ on TikTok, but really you’re blackmailing businesses into buying a favorable review.”
“Hey, um.” Alex has followed her out of the kitchen, holding her phone. “So. Winn texted back, and he says—”
But Lena laughs again, her guarded posture melting down to unmistakable relief. “I’m so sorry,” she says, her voice a high warble. “That sounds awful. And also extremely illegal. Have you reported this person to the authorities? I can get you in touch with an excellent lawyer, if you’d like.”
Kara doesn’t know if she feels more outraged or confused.
…Or possibly some secret third thing.
“So you’re telling me—” Kara barks out a disbelieving laugh. “You’re saying you’re not her.”
“This, ehm— Tic Tac person?” When Lena’s dark lashes flutter, something in Kara’s chest flutters too. “No.”
Impossible. “Then why have you been in here every day this week?” Kara interrogates, the full force of evidence she’s collected behind it. “When neither one of us has seen you here even once, since we opened?”
Alex rolls her eyes. “I told you I wasn’t sure whether I’d seen her here before,” she points out. “Also, Winn says—”
“Oh please,” Kara scoffs, her eyes fixed on Lena, who has propped her elbows on the counter again, closer now than she’d been the last time their eyes met. “As if you could forget a woman as beautiful as—” Kara’s gaze drops to Lena’s mouth, unbidden, when Lena parts those rude, ruby lips. “...You.”
Alex stares.
Kara swallows.
Lena blinks; two times fast, and then again, after a beat, slow and sticky, her eyes darkening.
“So you may as well come out with it,” Kara croaks out what little remains of her anger. “There’s something you want more than our fettuccine.”
Lena’s cheeks have turned a treacherously charming shade of pink. “I suppose you’re right about that one, at least,” she admits after a beat.
In Kara’s peripheral vision, Alex frantically slides her hand across her throat. Kara frowns at her, telegraphing a wordless what is your problem but finding no satisfactory answer in the crimson shade her sister’s face has taken on.
“Yeah, well,” she says, almost disappointed, fumbling to fill the space left by Lena’s confession. “I’m telling you right now that it’s never going to happen.”
Alex clears her throat with startling force. “Winn wants to know,” she says, reading from her phone, “Who’s the hot chick?”
When Kara returns her gaze to the woman on the other side of the counter, she gulps. Lena is somehow even closer than she was before. She’s also fully propping herself up now on the laminate surface between them, granting Kara a glimpse of freckled cleavage that in no possible universe could be interpreted as unintentional.
“So,” Lena drawls. “What you’re saying is you’re not going to give me your number?”
Kara’s throat is suddenly very dry.
“Huh?” she manages, but only just barely.
“I was hoping,” Lena says slowly, that maddening smirk once again tugging up the corner of her mouth, “that you’d maybe like to—”
Lena shifts in her seat, crossing her legs in what is bound to become a devastatingly seductive pose, but the barstool decides in exactly that moment that's it’s finally had enough. Lena yelps as it gives out beneath her with a dramatic snap, one of its rickety limps flying across the floor as if celebrating its first taste of freedom, and Kara’s never considered herself to be very quick, but here she is anyway, on the other side of the counter in what feels like less than a second, one hand gripping Lena’s forearm, the other slipping smoothly around her waist.
“—fuck,” Lena gasps up at her. She feels good, in Kara’s hands, slight but pleasantly heavy, like the santoku knife Alex has forbidden Kara from touching ever again. “Well,” Lena says. “That’s. Perhaps not the way I would have phrased it, especially in front of your friend—”
They both glance over at Alex, but she’s disappeared, the swaying of the kitchen doors the only indication she was ever there.
“O-kay,” Kara says.
Lena grins. “Okay?”
Kara mentally rewinds the conversation and feels her ears burn at the realization of what she just agreed to. “I mean,” she amends. “We could, maybe, grab something to eat first?”
Something devious sparks in Lena’s terrifyingly gorgeous face. She glances down at Kara’s arms before blinking back up at her again and smirking. “I thought you already had.”
And, goodness gracious.
Kara is about to be in so much trouble.
#this prompt is exactly one hundred years old today but HEY LOOK a CLEAN 2000 WORDS#just. clearing the pipes#or whatever it is they say#supercorp fan fiction#supergirl fan fiction#ask meme#thanks for the prompt wilfriede!#i hope it's close enough!#lena luthor#kara danvers#fic by ekingston
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Based on this Twitter prompt
https://twitter.com/CE0ofFURINA/status/1742958819624591453?t=VOJUTMOLCwa7mZRe4eW63w&s=19
#supercorp#lena luthor#supergirl#kara danvers#kara x lena#my art#Lena's urge to clasp Kara’s bicep#this prompt is perfect for them
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Villian: Hero, in this life I hope you burn in hell.
Hero: *just raises a brow*
Villian: But in our next life… I promise, I’ll marry you.
#beafleaf#sterek#destiel#writing prompt#fanfic prompt#newtmas#coldflash#supercorp#drarry#sabriel#catradora#mujin x taeju#fengxin#seo Inwoo x took dongshik
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there were too many beds
prompt came from this reverse trope list.
(thanks anon for suggesting it be pulled into a standalone post)
- - - - -
There were too many beds.
There were too many beds.
Kara scanned the room: two, four, six, seven beds.
Sevens of them. All done up with pillows and over-starched fabric and tiny brochures translated into broken English with a map of local attractions splattered from inch to inch.
When she'd persuaded Lena to live out her dream of a four-week backpacking European holiday, she never expected there to be so many beds. Hostel after hostel with 'private' rooms filled with beds. It was perfectly roomy which was exactly the problem. Kara had daydreamed of a closet-sized room tightly packed with a single double bed, a tiny nightstand and, maybe if they were lucky, a private bathroom.
What she didn't expect was Lena plans-ahead Luthor booking out an entire 'group' of beds at each location.
"It'll give us guaranteed privacy," Lena explained when Kara flushed at the bundle of euros being slipped across the counter city after city.
Because that was the other thing: Kara had just come out. As Supergirl. And for as much as she liked to pretend everything was normal, everything was not normal. They could barely enjoy their plates of cicchetti in Venice without being barraged with onlookers. Their walk through Gaudi's masterpiece was ruined by slack-jawed observers gawking at Kara in civilian clothes. And now, in the city of love itself, Kara's romantic plans of a blanketed dinner in front of the Eiffel Tower was ruined by one nosy teenager with a social media following.
And now they were back, dinner ruined, a half-eaten baguette in one hand and the remaining drags of a perfectly delicious bottom-shelf bottle of red in the other. It was terrible. It was awful. It was not going at all like Kara wanted or planned or hoped.
Still Lena smiled. She knowingly leaned into Kara with each spontaneous combustion of crowds. She squeezed a hand reassuringly and chuckled when the wildest requests were made for autographs and signatures and "can we see the suit?". Tiny reminders of "it's ok, darling," were whispered through a crowd while an adoring smile settled Kara's stewing frustration.
"Everything ok?" Lena asked, one hand disappeared into her overflowing backpack.
"Hm? Oh, yea," Kara replied. A blush crept over her cheeks and a distracted hand scratched at her neck. "Just tired I guess."
"It'll pass. Soon you'll be able to walk down the street and be a nobody just like me," Lena offered with a sympathetic smile. And then there it was; there it came: a quick squeeze of Kara's forearm followed by the light trace of a kiss on Kara's cheek. "Thank you for an amazing day."
And then it was gone as quick as it came with the bathroom door squeaking shut.
And still, there were seven beds.
Seven.
Beds.
Now, what happened next is up for some debate. To the desk clerk, it might have sounded like a robbery. To Lena Luthor, one threshold away, it sounded like Kara was having one of her early-aughts inspired dance sessions. Kara herself would explain she'd seen a black widow. An army of black widows when an amused Lena pressed.
"Not bedbugs?" Lena asked, surveying the damage and stepping over a smoking mattress.
"Uh... coulda-coulda been?" Kara said, flushed and dry-mouthed.
"Mhm, well then we couldn't possibly sleep here tonight-"
"Black widows. It was definitely a fleet of black widows. Not a bedbug in sight actually-"
"A fleet?" Lena pressed, barely containing a grin and dropping her day clothes onto her completely unscathed, pristine backpack.
Kara nodded. She nodded with vigor and superspeed.
"I see," Lena continued, plopping onto the mattress.
How exactly it happened didn't really matter. All that mattered was that, in the span of time it took Lena to brush her teeth and change into soft sweats and Kara's old NCU t-shirt, six beds had been destroyed.
"I guess we'll just have to share, won't we, darling?"
#(this is a repost)#thanks anon for your suggestion - i didn't think about it getting lost in the reblog shuffle#i also like way too many of these reverse trope prompts#'sevens' was a typo but i'm absolutely keeping it#there were too many beds#supercorp fic#supercorp
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lena is really *really* into the idea of fucking an alien
sometimes when lena is bored at her desk, on a conference call with the board, listening to her mother emasculate yet another yale-bred, early 20s nepotism hire in the hallway, her mind wanders. meanders, really. it's a lesson in imagination. a practice in her academic deductive reasoning. one of those exercises designed to fight dementia, she's inclined to believe. anyways, she wanders about what it would be like to fuck an alien.
don't be like that. it's not crass. it's a scientific pursuit.
for instance, would it be sexual or asexual reproduction? sexual reproduction would make more sense, and surely the universe is sensible. it would promote genetic diversity. and then, what kind? syngamy or conjugation? fertilization was the most common in multicellular sexual populations, lena has often reasoned. (see, this isn't horny. many of these words put you right to sleep, didn't they?) then there's the types of syngamy, of course: isogamy, heterogamy, and oogamy. but she doesn't really need to get into gametes here. size, number, maintenance. the question she's pondering while jess is listing off her jampacked schedule is how different would an alien's physiology end up being, sexually speaking? would they feel pleasure? that wasn't common on earth. how would fertilization work? penetration? on all fours, perhaps?
hm.
or would none of that even matter? would it be purely for the experience of interspecies connection? of finding common ground with a creature so distinct from you, it could almost be argued as a matter of say, quantum entanglement. no matter how many stars separated you, here you were. touching. looking. intertwining. two materials from totally different galaxies, the products of millions of years of formation, evolution, coming, coming together as one.
"mrs. luthor?" the tentative voice of her assistant rings out.
lena drops her pen to her desk. she'd been absentmindedly doodling. it's the super crest.
hm.
"kara danvers is here to see you."
"send her up," lena replies, careful in her tone, swiveling her chair towards the blinding windows of her office. up towards the sky, the heavens and far beyond.
if only someone, someone she knew personally, an alien, would be so inclined as to humor her questions. or even a physical demonstration, perhaps? was that really so hard?
#supercorp#fanfic prompt#ficlet#hr's askhole#ive had this ask for four years#i don't know why i kept it so long#it would always make me laugh#I was never sure if it was a prompt or just a fact anon wanted me to know#like#I know anon#-I- know
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Supercorptober - Wild or…
Captain Underpants (also on Ao3)
Lena: Text me when you get this.
Kara squints at the message. If she narrows her eyes to slits, the photonic assault hurts her eyeballs less. The text is from Lena, so she answers right away. Doesn’t matter that it’s far past late at night and still hours away from early morning.
Kara: hey got your message. what’s up?
She thinks, mistakenly, that Lena will be asleep. She hopes, misguidedly, that that will afford her a few precious hours of rest herself. Her phone chimes and shatters that fantasy in its infancy.
Lena: Are you home?
That’s concerning. Even through the swampiness of fading inebriation and a blossoming hangover, Kara’s synapses spark to life at the idea that Lena may be in trouble.
Kara: I’m home. everything okay?
The response comes back so fast that Kara suspects Lena started typing before she’d even answered.
Lena: I’m coming over.
Kara glances blearily at her alarm clock. 2:47am. Something is definitely wrong.
It’s a testament to her body’s exhaustion that, despite the urgency, Kara manages to fall asleep. She jolts awake to the sound of cannonballs exploding in her ears, the echoes rattling around in her skull. Her superhearing is out of whack from the sleep or the alcohol or both and nearby noise is amplified a thousandfold. The resounding knock at her door sounds more like a battering ram than a fist.
“Kara?” Lena’s voice drifts through the apartment and all other noise seems to melt away. The soothing effect is immediate. Kara’s heart slides back down her throat and thumps in relief. She sags into her pillow with a sigh before she remembers the fact that Lena is visiting her at three in the morning.
Kara superspeeds to the entryway. She just barely reminds herself to touch down on the floor before unlocking the deadbolt.
“Lena!” Kara whips her door open. She’s prepared for the whole range of human emotion, perhaps some tears or sobs or panic or any external sign of distress.
Instead Lena greets her with pursed lips (puckered in that distracting way that accentuates the crisp line of her jaw), a tilted head, and brassy raise of her eyebrow. Lena looks as beautiful as ever in the middle of the night, but she certainly does not appear distressed.
She gives Kara an undisguised once-over.
“Hello, Supergirl,” Lena deadpans.
All the oxygen leaves the room. Kara’s anatomy doesn’t require much of it, but she still feels like she’s choking on the lack of air. Her eyes bug out and she momentarily loses all cognitive function as her half-drunk system begins a hard reboot into this new reality where apparently Lena now knows her secret identity. The corner of Lena’s mouth twitches victoriously and somehow that is what kicks Kara back to the land of the living.
Without so much as a warning, she snags Lena by the wrist and yanks her bodily into the apartment. It’s a whole miracle Kara doesn’t slam the door off its hinges as Lena stumbles past the threshold.
“Heh—Supergi—that’s funny—what, uh.” Kara squeaks, sounding totally normal. She whirls around to face her friend with a manic laugh and round, wild eyes, “W-what are you talking about?”
Alex teases Kara relentlessly for her inability to play it cool. As she scratches the back of her own neck only to realize that her hair is down and her glasses are sitting uselessly on her nightstand, then completely misses the wall she intended to lean against and surreptitiously floats to keep her balance, Kara admits that her sister may be onto something.
“Kara, please.” Lena’s eyebrow lifts so high that her forehead wrinkles to accommodate it. “Don’t insult me.”
She opens her mouth to speak but something about the way Lena’s regarding her—resolute and impatient, like she’s just waiting for Kara to catch up so they can move on— makes her snap her jaw shut. Kara abandons her remaining denial with a long exhale.
She can’t help but cling to a thread or plausible deniability though.
“What, um.” Kara clears her throat. “What makes you think that I’m—” her voice cracks on the words, so foreign to her in this context— “that I’m Supergirl?”
Instead of answering, Lena raises an unimpressed eyebrow. Wordlessly, she turns on her heel and heads for Kara’s coffee table. Puzzled, the superhero follows. She just about combusts when Lena flicks on the television.
There, in what must have been filmed by a cell-phone, is Supergirl, twirling through the air suitless and cape-less—wearing nothing save for a matching sports bra and boxers. Kara’s jaw unhinges. She thinks her eyes hurt from how wide they’ve gotten. Supergirl’s hair is blowing freely in the breeze and she looks absolutely delighted as she corkscrews aimlessly above the city, half-naked and carefree.
Kara watches in horror as the video zooms in shamelessly on her butt. (Rao damn The Fruit for stuffing their mobile devices with such capable cameras.) This, mortifyingly, is precisely where Lena chooses to pause the coverage. She clicks the remote, freezing the frame on a screenful of Kara’s backside, and points an elegant but accusatory finger at the blown-up image of Kara’s favorite underwear.
It’s not just any old set of underwear. These ones are indescribably soft and comfortable. They fit just right, snug in all the right places, and they are adorned with a bizarrely adorable pattern of cartoon potstickers, puppies, and chopsticks. Most precious of all, they were a gift from one Lena Luthor last Christmas.
Kara ventures a shifty glance at the CEO, whose eyebrow is still quirked expectantly.
Stupidly, Kara blurts the first thing occurs to her. “That could be anyone.”
A second eyebrow climbs to match the first, shifting Lena’s expression from confident to incredulous in a single movement.
“I—I mean,” the superhero stammers, “it’s a really cute pattern a-and maybe Supergirl got herself the same set you bought me.”
Lena’s eyes close slowly, patiently and she shakes her head. Pinching the bridge of her nose, she mutters, “I don’t see how that’s possible.”
“Why not?” Kara demands, incomprehensibly committed to her flimsy excuse. “Lots of people like potstickers and puppies!”
“Because they are custom, Kara.” Lena’s head tilts sharply and she skewers the blonde with a pointed look. “I had them custom-made for your gift.”
“Oh.” Kara blinks. “You did?” Her voice ticks up at the end, betraying how oddly touched she feels at the gesture.
Lena appears exhausted but at least somewhat amused now. “Yes. Did you think I happened to fortuitously stumble upon the exact combination of all your favorite things printed on the exact type of undergarment you happen to favor?”
“Um… yes?” Kara shrugs even as the feeble defense crumbles around her. “You can find anything on the internet nowadays.”
Lena sighs. “Kara.” The super’s eyes lock on hers and Lena deliberately drags her green gaze down Kara’s front and slowly back up.
The hint of heat in Lena’s eyes isn’t lost on the Kryptonian, so her face is already two shades pinker than normal when she follows Lena’s stare down her own body.
Her cheeks flame up fully at the visual reminder that she is in fact still wearing the offending undergarments and precious little else.
“Oh.” Kara swallows. She is fully on display for Lena—not only mostly undressed, which induces its own type of stirrings in her belly, but also in clothes unmistakably identical to the superhero frozen on the screen. It’s four coincidences too many.
“Oh,” Lena parrots, nodding once.
Kara’s arms cross instinctively over her bare stomach. She’s ashamed. Not of her body, but of attempting to keep up such a charade without a lick of self-awareness. Mostly, she’s ashamed of hiding the truth from the person with whom she’d most wanted to share it.
Frankly, it’s a monumental relief to be unshackled from her secret. Without the burden of her identity, Kara can truly give Lena her full self, share all the bits and pieces of her that have sat leaden and unspoken on the tip of her tongue for months. Now that Kara has the liberty to be well and truly honest, maybe she can finally entertain the budding intimacy and extra warmth that’s been building around her best friend. She’s never felt quite so enthralled to be the focus of someone’s gaze before and maybe if—
Kara shakes her head, clearing away the cobwebs of hope. There’s a very different reality to be faced right now.
Casting an anxious glance at her feet, Kara flexes her toes and reaches for the grounding sensation of the grain in the hardwood.
Kara swallows thickly, mind alight with all the wrong turns this revelation can take, all the covert ways her secret could have already poisoned their relationship beyond recovery.
“I’m so sorry,” she mumbles, forcing her voice to remain steady even as she collapses into a defeated heap on the couch.
After a few seconds of silence, she gathers all the courage in her rapidly accelerating heart and glances up for Lena’s reaction.
Once again her best friend surprises her. Lena doesn’t seem mad or hurt or resentful. She looks… perplexed, if not a little exasperated.
“What exactly are you apologizing for?” Lena asks slowly once their eyes lock.
Kara senses her own crinkle bunching between her eyebrows to match Lena’s. “For keeping this from you,” she answers dejectly.
Lena’s eyes widen and Kara rushes to justify herself. The explanation clambers out of her of its own accord, gathering momentum and volume like a snowball rolling downhill.
“I’ve been wanting to tell you so badly, Lena. For months! You’re one of the most important people in my life! I trust you. I–I can’t really explain it, but something about you has always made me feel safe. I just, I felt like I knew you from the moment we met. And that feeling hasn’t faded at all. In fact, it’s grown stronger. I think maybe it’s even become—”
Kara stops short of broaching that subject and launches up off the couch, beginning a proper maniacal pacing across her living room floor.
“You didn’t even need to but you went ahead and proved to me and Supergirl and everyone in the world that you are even more noble and good than I imagined. You are so incredible, Lena. Of everyone I love, you deserve to know this part of me. But—but this superhero thing is so complicated. There are all these rules with the DEO and it’s not always safe for the people that know my identity and—”
“Kara—”
“—and as much as I wanted to be completely open with you, I couldn’t risk you getting hurt. I can’t. I won’t. So then—”
“Kara, darling.” The endearment smashes sideways into Kara and brings her ramble to a skidding, screeching halt. “Stop talking.”
Dumbstruck, Kara does. She turns back to Lena and nearly suffocates at the fondness she finds shining back at her. It’s accompanied by a dash of amusement and that same exasperation from before, but the affection is there and it’s so warm that Kara’s cheeks heat up to match. How Lena can still look at her like that after what Kara’s kept from her is… it feels unfair.
“I’m really sorry Lena,” Kara insists quietly, this time staring directly into those striking windows of sea-glass green and willing her to see how acutely she means it.
“Don’t be.” Lena’s expression softens even further and Kara wonders if this is how it would feel to live life as a lava cake. Airy on the outside and melty on the inside. Warm and delicious all over. It’s nice. Maybe she can get Lena to eat her if—Kara blinks out of her daze. Okay so perhaps she is still a teensy, weensy bit tipsy.
Lena doesn’t seem to notice her brief departure because she adds very earnestly, “I understand why your identity needs safeguarding. I can’t imagine very many people know this about you.”
“No,” Kara agrees, eyes seeking the floor again.
“Frankly, I wouldn’t have expected you to reveal something so sensitive to someone like me.”
The self-deprecation in Lena’s tone is unacceptable. Kara is about to protest that she wanted to—would have if not for the magical influence of Alex’s good sense—when Lena shrugs.
“And we’ve only known one another for a year. There are bound to be some secrets.” The next part is whispered, as if Lena doesn’t mean for Kara to hear. “God knows I have some.”
“Wait—” Kara teeters closer, itching with that Lena-fueled curiosity that swims constantly through her veins.
Lena’s eyebrow twitches haughtily and she smiles, reaching out to pat Kara’s hand. “Matters for another time, darling.”
She wraps her fingers loosely around Kara’s and guides them both onto the couch. Kara, ostensibly still in her underwear, pulls a throw pillow into her lap.
Without warning, Lena resumes the video. The frozen widescreen snapshot of Kara’s behind shrinks away mercifully to the top corner of her TV, revealing a smirking newscaster barely keeping her laughter at bay. Her brown eyes dance as she describes Supergirl’s latest antics in excruciating detail to whichever unfortunate souls are watching at this time of the night.
“Why are we still watching this?” Kara mumbles, hugging the pillow to her chest. Lena remains placidly silent.
Just as Kara thinks her public shaming is complete, a new video overtakes the screen. This one is shot from a much better—or incriminating—angle. Namely, a news helicopter hovering at altitude, level with Supergirl as she floats in lazy spirals then flutters hundreds of feet down, playful and giggling, before shooting back up and starting again.
Kara really takes the cake when she stops mid-somersault and flashes the camera an unfocused wave and a dazzling smile. ‘Up, up and away,’ the half-naked superhero slurs. Then she proceeds to plunge straight out of the sky, giggling gleefully as she falls.
“Oh god,” Kara groans as the camera swings wildly to chase her back into the frame. It finally catches up to her as Kara’s trajectory is intercepted by a green-black blur. She and the blur disappear in a flash of red and the video gives way to the newscaster once more, speculating about the inexplicable nature of her behavior.
So that’s why J’onn had showed up to fly Supergirl home.
“I…” Is there kryptonite in the room or is she just burning up from sheer embarrassment? “I don’t remember doing that,” Kara whispers, quiet as a mouse.
Beside her, Lena snorts. Kara swivels to glare at her but the image of Lena stifling a laugh into the tips of her fingers is entirely too cute to hold a grudge against. She pouts instead.
Eventually the CEO regains her composure and asks, exceedingly gentle, “What do you remember?”
Kara’s features scrunch into a frown as she replays the last several hours in her head. It’s somewhat blurry, but there’s a chronological consistency to the snippets of clarity.
“It… it was my night off,” Kara begins. A picture of Alex’s rowdy laugh shimmers to life in her mind’s eye and she smiles. “Sister’s night.”
Lena nods, smiles just because Kara did and that—that’s really something. Her heart does a happy little flump. Then she remembers.
“That’s why I didn’t have my supersuit!” Kara snaps her fingers. “J’onn told us he had everything covered tonight. He said we should take the night to really unwind.”
Lena’s unimpressed little ah sets Kara into a guilty grimace. “I… don’t think this is what he meant he meant by unwind,” Kara admits.
“Probably not.” Lena agrees. It’s a gentle admonishment and a flat tease all in one and Kara is too busy thinking that Lena is miraculous to be at all bothered by the joke at her expense. “What did you two plan for sister’s night?”
“Well… Alex came over and we had a few drinks. I remember she brought some sort of alien punch or something. I don’t know what was in it but it was really yummy. I… got a little drunker than I meant to.”
Kara omits the part where she ignored Alex’s warning about the potency of said beverages because ‘I have a Kryptonian metabolism Alex. I’ll be fine.’
“Oh. So this…” Lena gestures vaguely in the direction of the television. It’s paused on another unflattering view from below and Kara wrinkles her nose. “Was alcohol-induced?”
“Yeah…” she admits, dragging out the word.
Lena raises an eyebrow. “And… voluntary?”
“Um. Yes.”
Lena regards her for a long moment, then releases a gargantuan breath. Her shoulders fall with it, settling almost one full inch below where they’d been twisted in tension since she arrived. “Well that’s a relief,” she exhales.
“It—it is?” Kara tilts her head.
“I thought you’d been poisoned.” Lena looks at her sharply and Kara swallows. “I was… concerned.”
The flash of vulnerability in her eyes is as close as Lena gets to chastising her, but Kara still feels it like a punch to the gut. It doesn’t take much work to put herself in Lena’s shoes, to imagine the sensation of the ground dropping out from underneath her when a slew of worst case scenarios take up residence in her brain. Combined with the realization that Supergirl’s erratic behavior is also her best friend’s, it might just warrant the frazzled and urgent messages in the middle of the night.
“I’m sorry,” Kara winces. “I promise I’m okay. Just a bit hungover, probably.” She pauses thoughtfully. “If it makes you feel any better, you weren’t entirely wrong.” Lena’s brow furrows and Kara grins dumbly, if only to inject a little levity into the moment. “Alcohol is pretty much poison. I just, you know, did the poisoning myself. I had a great time.”
There’s a stifled snort sound again and then Lena’s chuckling, loose at last and shaking her head fondly. Kara melts into the angelic sound, into the familiarity and affection twinkling within.
“So long as you’re okay,” Lena adds.
“I’m alright,” Kara reassures. She reaches for Lena’s hand and gives it a squeeze. “I promise.”
Keeping their hands joined, Lena tips her head curiously. “There’s just one thing I don’t understand.”
“Yeah?”
“If you and Alex were home—here, then why did you leave without your suit on?”
“Oh, uh...” Kara thinks for a moment. “We went out at some point. Alex convinced me to go to Al’s—the alien bar—to meet up with Maggie—which,” Kara bristles and sniffs loudly, “was extremely generous of me, considering it was sister’s night.”
She glances at Lena for validation but her best friend just blinks placidly and waits. Kara pauses to wonder if she’s causing any sort of distress with all of the alien information she’s tossing her way. After a few seconds of Kara studying her, Lena finally raises her eyebrows in question.
“Sorry,” Kara shakes her head. “Anyway. We went to the bar and had a couple more drinks. And then—this is where things get kind of fuzzy.” Kara blushes. “Alex left with Maggie, I think.”
“Alex left you at the bar alone? While you were clearly not sober?” Lena’s face screws into a glare of disapproval. “That doesn’t sound like Agent Danvers.”
Kara barks a laugh at the formal form of address. “No, it definitely doesn’t,” she concedes. “I don’t think she actually left me though… I remember being in a cab. And then… um. Not in a cab.”
“Did the taxi drop you off at home?”
“No?” Kara wracks her brain. “I don’t think so. I remember wandering around a park somewhere and realizing I was lost. I know the city so well from above but down here I… get a little turned around sometimes.”
Kara’s cheeks flush at the admission but Lena’s fingers flex around her hand encouragingly and she relaxes.
“Anyway, when I realized I was lost I figured it would be best if I just flew myself home.”
The logic of the moment comes rushing back all at once and Kara feels the tips of her ears go from pink to red to redder. Lena, genius that she is, puts it together rather quickly.
“But you didn’t have your suit.”
“Yeah…” Kara affirms through a dry mouth.
“So you…” Lena begins, encouraging Kara to finish. She’s too embarrassed to even try. After several moments of nothing, Lena rips off the bandaid. “So you undressed to avoid being recognized?”
There’s an inferno blazing somewhere in this room, Kara swears it. She nods, not daring to meet Lena’s eyes.
A minuscule giggle reaches her ears and she breaks.
“I—I didn’t have a choice!” Kara whines. “It was late, I was lost, and my phone was dead and I, I… didn’t know what else to do!”
“Oh dear. Good thing you’re invulnerable.” Lena chuckles. “It's okay, darling.”
“It’s not!” Kara glares over at the TV. “I thought I was being clever. I even folded my shirt and my jeans and hid them in a bush, out of sight and everything! I figured no one would recognize me if I was quick about getting home so I took off but then…”
Lena looks at her expectantly, every bit the generous friend trying to keep her laughter trapped behind her pursed lips.
“Flying felt so good.” Kara admits, contrite. “I’m always wearing that gosh-darned suit with the long sleeves and the tights and just—the warm air felt so nice on my skin. Like the night sky was hugging me hello.”
She’s pouting up a storm now. “I really didn’t expect it. And, well, I guess I was just having a really nice time and my flight home accidentally turned into….” She gestures half-heartedly to the TV. “That.”
“Oh honey.” Lena extends one arm and Kara doesn’t hesitate to dive under it, hiding her face in the comfort of Lena’s shoulder. “It’ll be alright. It’s just a minor PR snafu. You didn’t do anything wrong.
“Alex is gonna be so mad,” Kara grouses, burrowing towards the enticingly familiar scent emanating from Lena’s skin, just a few inches away.
“Perhaps,” Lena allows, rubbing up and down Kara’s arm. It helps soothe the panic that comes with the knowledge of her elder sister’s impending fury. “But you didn’t hurt anyone. And the risk to your identity seems exceedingly low. Who else knows what I gave you for Secret Santa last year?”
Kara thinks back to the holiday, to the warm glow in her apartment and the people she loves gathered to share smiles and stories and gifts. “Just the people that were there that day,” she answers. “Alex, my mom, James, and Winn. And you.”
The memory of Lena glowing alongside her family makes Kara hum happily and nuzzle a little closer. Lena’s arm tightens around Kara’s shoulders.
“And is there any risk of them putting the pieces together from this video?”
“Well, that’s not really a problem,” Kara sighs. “My family has always known. James knew before I even met him because he’s friends with Superman. And Winn is the only other person I’ve ever told.”
She freezes, nervous that the reminder of being kept in the dark might cause Lena to put some distance between them. It’s the last thing Kara wants, to hurt her best friend. Besides, she’d quite like to stay right where she is, a scant inch away from the soft skin of Lena’s collarbone.
“There you have it,” Lena soothes, mercifully unfazed by the news of others that knew before her. “This hiccup should wash away with the next news cycle.” Lena pauses, tenses a bit. “Unless…”
Kara wriggles, prompting her to continue. “Unless what?”
“Have you…” the CEO clears her throat and from this distance Kara can hear her swallow uncomfortably. “Have you shown anyone else?”
“Shown anyone what?”
“This, uh, particular outfit of yours?”
“Pshh, no.” Kara scoffs and shakes her head. The movement brings the cold tip of her nose into contact with the heavenly warmth of Lena’s skin. Kara attributes the slight shiver that runs through her friend’s body to the shock of temperature difference. “Why would I show anyone my underwear?”
When Lena grimaces, the muscles in her neck tighten and Kara instinctively tucks her head closer to smooth the tension away.
“Well,” Lena begins, sounding a bit strangled. Her voice is lower, somewhat shy, and Kara is distracted by the way it vibrates against her forehead when Lena speaks. “If you… perhaps… brought someone home with you.”
“When I invite guests over I don’t include my underwear drawer in the tour of the apartment, Lena. That’s silly.”
“No—that’s not what I—hmph.” Exasperated, Lena finally makes herself clear. “I’m asking if you’ve slept with anyone, Kara.”
The superhero jolts upright, squeaking in surprise. “What?”
Lena clenches her jaw and releases it, taking a fortifying breath. “Have you been intimate with anyone recently that might’ve seen this set of underwear?” Kara gapes like a fish out of water and Lena rolls her eyes as she spells it out, seeming oddly pained. “Could they possibly make the connection between Supergirl’s appearance tonight and your identity as Kara Danvers?���
“Oh,” Kara breathes, struggling to sit still under Lena’s scrutiny. She peels at the fraying edges of her throw pillow. “Um. No.”
“Okay.” It may be Kara’s imagination, but it almost looks like Lena heaves a sigh of relief. “You’re sure?”
“Yeah, I…” the corner of her mouth twitches. “There hasn’t been anyone. Not since Mon-El.”
Kara considers the nights she’s spent with people she loves instead, the extra time that not having a love interest has afforded her with Lena and feels quite at peace with this reality. She smiles. “So I guess we’re safe on that front.”
Lena smiles back, closed-mouthed but still dimpled, and Kara feels like a lava cake again.
“See? You have nothing to worry about,” the CEO assures.
“Except—can anyone trace the purchase back to you?” Kara asks suddenly. “You said it was a custom order, won’t… won’t people think that you’re Supergirl?!”
Lena bursts into laughter at the suggestion. She howls for seconds while Kara dissolves into a panic at the idea of people going after Lena, mistaking her for the drunk Kryptonian.
“Lena, this is serious,” Kara admonishes. Lena just keeps on laughing. “You could be seriously targeted! I need—I need to protect you. Someone could try to hurt you if they thought…” her wild ideas get the best of her, spiraling out of control at the mere suggestion of increased attempts on Lena’s life.
Kara spaces out, flicking rapidly from scenario to scenario about how best to protect her best friend from this type of exposure. Maybe Lena should move in with her, so Kara can keep her safe all the time. If they share a bed, Kara will know she’s protected even while unconscious. Lena maintains an office at Catco, so the workday is covered. What about bathroom breaks, would those be—
A warm palm smooths over Kara’s forearm and squeezes until her tailspin slows to a halt. “Kara, darling. Come back.”
Kara blinks forcefully once, twice, three times, and then she’s planted firmly in her living room, staring once more at the overwhelming wealth of fondness in light green eyes. Those eyes crinkle around a smile as soon as Kara fully returns to her surroundings.
“You needn’t worry about me,” Lena assures slowly. Kara wrinkles her brow and Lena explains. “I went to a store in person to place the order and made my purchases with cash. The payment isn’t traceable to my name and no one recognized me, I’m certain of it.”
Face pinched into a frown, Kara shakes her head. “Are you sure? I won’t take that risk with you, Lena.”
“I’m sure,” the CEO smiles again and it’s nearly dazzling enough to distract Kara from her panic-fueled worry storm. “I appreciate the concern, but I doubt anyone would believe that a Luthor even knows what a baseball cap is, let alone wears one.” Lena tilts her head thoughtfully. “For that matter, I doubt anyone would believe that a Luthor could secretly be Kryptonian, all things considered.”
Kara scowls at the indirect mention of Lex, but considers Lena’s logic. She’s right in the end—short of a credit card receipt with Lena’s name on it or video footage showing her obtaining the exact same garments Supergirl is wearing, it’d be nigh impossible to make the connection.
“Okay,” she finally relents. “Okay. So now all I have to worry about is Alex’s wrath.”
The thought brings another grimace to her face and she buries it into her throw pillow. Alex is going to be so mad.
“I think Alex will be fine once we talk it through with her,” Lena offers. The ‘we’ wraps around Kara like a blanket before Lena’s arms encircle her with a comfort that Kara’s powerless to resist. She drops the pillow in favor of scooting back into her previous position, nestled into the juncture of Lena’s neck and shoulder.
They sit in silence for a few minutes as Kara recovers from her shame. The lateness of the hour and the steady drum of Lena’s heart lull Kara into a dreamy, half-conscious state and before she’s fully aware of herself she asks, “Lena?”
“Hm?”
The low hum of Lena’s voice in the apartment shrouds Kara in calm and she instinctively adjusts so she can press her nose and mouth the source of that heavenly vibration. Lena gulps and Kara is too sleepy to think anything of it.
“You aren’t mad?”
“Mad?” Lena repeats. “Why?”
“You’re not mad that I didn’t tell you my secret?”
“No, darling, I’m not mad,” Lena mutters softly and places a gentle hand on the side of Kara’s head. “It’s your secret to tell. What matters to me is that you’re safe. That’s all.”
The Kryptonian smiles and snuggles close. “Well, I’m really glad that you know now. And that you still like me. There’s so much I wanna tell you.” She pouts. “No more secrets for us.”
“Of course I still like you.” Then, most miraculous of all, Lena drops a soft kiss to Kara’s forehead. “You’re lovely, Kara. Being Supergirl doesn’t change that.”
Kara hums contentedly and drowsily returns the kiss wherever she can reach. Which happens to be the exposed jut of Lena’s collarbone. She notices a shift immediately—Lena’s muscles sing with tautness and her heart rate skyrockets.
“Lena?”
“Mm?” Her response is slightly high-pitched this time, even if the rumble of it still rolls through Kara like thunder.
“Why is your heartbeat so fast?”
“What—how can you even—oh. Superhearing. Of course.”
“Mhm,” Kara smiles, wondering languidly if Lena can feel her grin even if she can’t see it, ‘cause of the way Kara’s mouth is smooshed against her neck. Lena smells really, really good.
“You smell really, really good.” Again, Lena’s heartbeat ratchets up a notch. Kara frowns.
“Lena, you need to calm down.” Kara speaks right up against the source of the hammering in her ears, feeling the corresponding pulse pound on her lips. “‘S very loud. That can’t be good for you.”
“I’m fine, Kara,” Lena squeaks. Kara has her doubts but forgets them immediately when Lena says, “Besides, I’m with Supergirl. I’m as safe as can be.”
“That’s right.” Kara grins then places another sleepy kiss directly over that drumbeat, aiming to soothe it. “Shhh, i zhao,” Kara murmurs at Lena’s pulse point. “Settle down. You’re safe. It’s sleep time now.”
The next thing she hears after a hitch in Lena’s breath is the rich sound of Lena’s chuckle. “Did you just speak Kryptonian to my heartbeat, Kara?”
“Mm, yeah.” She’s beyond sleepy, half her cognizance has already yielded to unconsciousness. “I can never sleep when it’s loud like that.”
“What do you mean never?”
“I always check on you, Lena,” Kara nuzzles. “If your heartbeat’s too loud, I get worried.”
“You… you listen for me?”
Kara frowns again. Somehow this is only making things louder. Won’t stop her from telling the truth though.
“‘Course I listen. You’re my person,” she declares with a huff and drapes an arm over Lena’s midriff. “I dunno what’s bothering you right now though. You said it yourself, you’re safe with me.”
Lena sucks in a breath and holds it. Kara knows because she can feel the rise of Lena’s chest under her cheek and the way Lena’s throat works beneath her mouth. Kara noses against her neck, willing Lena to keep breathing and relax. Eventually she does.
Lena’s sigh comes out slow and measured and finally, her heartbeat begins to slow. She leans her head overtop of Kara’s. “I suppose that’s true.”
“Mhm,” Kara agrees. “Quiet now though, ‘s time for bed.” Lena nods above her and Kara doesn’t even deign to consider that they’re both still half upright on the couch. She does, however, remember a passing comment from earlier in the night.
“Lena?”
“Yeah?”
“Will you tell me your secret, too?”
In the ensuing pause, Kara hears the slowing beat do a stutter step in Lena’s chest. She nuzzles into it and Lena sighs once more.
Then Kara feels the warmth of lips pressed to her temple and suddenly her own heart is mirroring the pattern of Lena’s, clamoring for more of that soft sweetness against her skin.
“I think you might already know,” Lena whispers into her hair.
With the scent of Lena in her lungs and the softness of her friend in her arms and around her, Kara thinks she does, too.
(Morning finds them in the same position hours later, curled against one another on the couch. Necks stiff and backs crooked, they startle awake to a pounding on the door and an unmistakably familiar grumbling on the other side.
“Kara, you’d better be in there! What the fuck happened last night?!”)
--
#silly little ficlet#crack fic#i am not planning on doing the full month#i just found this in my drafts and it had the prompt so here we are#take all the potential angst and pretend it doesn’t exist#supercorp#supercorptober2023#ficlet
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20 for supercorp please?
Prompt: “Are you already dating someone new?”
“Supergirl!” The reporter yelled, pulling the hero’s attention away from greeting the crowd after stopping a getaway car. “Are you already dating someone new?”
Kara frowned, eyebrows shooting up in surprise, “Am I… what?”
And that was all the opening the reporter needed, Kara had engaged and was locked in.
“You were seen out on the town with Diana Prince only last week, the two of you were engaged in a close conversation.”
“That… I… we… uh…” Kara stammered, her blush the irrefutable proof the reporter needed.
“And then last night you were seen with James Olsen on a date clearly set up by Superman.”
“What? Superman had nothing to do with it. When I dated James I did it all by myself. But we’re not-“
“Dated? You’ve had a previous relationship? Exes rekindling the romance? Diana Prince merely used to rouse jealousy in your once lover? Who knew Supergirl was such a heartbreaker?”
“That was a lot of questions and none of them point to the truth.” Kara huffed.
“So James was just another in a long line, hmm?”
“I didn’t say that-“
“Who will Supergirl date next? Her identity and libido now revealed and free to conquer the city,” The reporter turned to fully face the camera, completely ignoring Kara’s outrage in the background as he pointed down the lens, “maybe it could be you?”
xxx
“Watch out, everyone! Supergirl’s raging libido is on the loose!” Nia called out as Kara landed on the Tower’s balcony looking awfully put out - bottom lip stuck out petulantly.
“Eww, please don’t talk about my sister’s libido.” Alex grimaced, glancing up from the monitor she was studying with Kelly. Esme was spending the day with J’onn, giving the parents a chance to catch up on some odd tasks at the Tower before going on a date. Lena and Brainy were fiddling with some tech components on a workbench in the corner of the room.
“Sorry, Alex but the whole city is talking about it, who knows who will be next?” Nia singsonged, looking far too pleased with herself.
“I shouldn’t have engaged…” Kara groaned, banging her head lightly against a wall.
“Yup!” Nia agreed, “But you did! Cat Grant is furious!”
“Ugh…” Kara slouched, sinking to the floor.
“Nia, I think she’s suffered enough.” Lena said, approaching quietly.
Nia pouted, patting Kara’s shoulder amicably before skipping away, her and Brainy departing together to go on their regular lunch date.
“How are you holding up, heartbreaker?” Lena teased, holding out a hand to help Kara up.
“Not you too.” Kara whined, accepting the hand offered her merely to link their hands together - palms brushing and fingers interlocking - using her own abilities to hover back onto her feet. “You know this is all your fault, right?”
Lena quirked an eyebrow, “How do you figure that?”
“No smoke without fire.” Kara replied confidently, swinging their joined hands back and forth. “I have an aura.”
Lena’s gaze narrowed as she repeated slowly, “An aura?”
“Yep.” Kara popped the word, smile growing into a grin. “A happily dating aura.”
Lena smirked, “Are you sure it’s not a recently fu-“
“NOPE! Nuh uh!” Alex shouted, fingers swiftly plugging ears. “Not listening! Kelly let’s go!”
Kelly shook her head in fond amusement of her wife, “Bye guys!”
Alex bolted for the exit, Kelly following more sedately behind.
“You did that on purpose.” Kara accused.
Lena placed a hand over her chest in mock offence. “Not everything can be my fault.” She followed this up with a shrug, “Admittedly I definitely did that on purpose and will gladly take accountability for Supergirl’s raging libido.”
Kara rolled her eyes, tugging Lena closer and pressing a kiss to her cheek.
“You know there’s no substance to the rumours, right? I only have eyes for you.” Kara reassured, gently checking in. This thing between them was still new, still finding its feet and Kara wanted to keep it safe and sheltered for as long as possible.
“I know, my love.” Lena affirmed, hand reaching out to comb through Kara’s hair. “It’s gossip mongering, I’ve suffered my fair share.”
“I don’t like adding to it.” Kara pouted, leaning into Lena’s tender care.
“You add so much more joy and love to counterbalance it. I knew what I was getting into dating Supergirl.”
“Still…”
“I can handle your raging libido, my love.”
“That’s going to stick isn’t it?”
“Afraid so; Cat has said it is to be your punishment.” Lena explained with a light chuckle. “She trained you to know better than to engage.”
“I know…” Kara grumbled, leaning forward to rest her forehead on Lena’s shoulder.
“I have a suggestion of how to get back in her good graces…”
“Oh?” Kara hummed, turning her head to gently kiss Lena’s neck.
“We offer her the bigger story to share.” Lena offered, voice quiet and shy.
Kara slowly pulled back, brow furrowed, “Bigger story?”
Lena nodded, “Well, I hope a Super and Luthor relationship would be bigger than your libido but who knows?”
Kara blinked, “You want to go public?”
“Only if you want to. And I view it less as going public and more as…” Lena hesitated, “setting the record straight.”
“I didn’t think the dating rumours bothered you?”
“They don’t.” Lena said. “It’s the lack of rumours that bothers me.”
“The lack?”
“I spent so long thinking that there was never going to be more between us, that our relationship was always destined to be platonic - which I was more than happy with but…” Lena looked away, cheeks tinting with embarrassment, “seeing how I am always the best friend in the news… It reminds me of that time. I don’t want to be in that box anymore. I don’t want us to be.”
“Hey, we’re not.” Kara promised, pressing kisses to Lena’s cheeks which only made the light pink flush deepen to sunset red. “You were never in that box.”
“I know that now.” Lena murmured, head tilting to catch Kara’s lips in a sweet kiss.
Kara rocked back, smile dreamy and dazed, “I’ll call Cat.” Kara declared. “Let her know my raging libido has found its next and final target.”
“Final, huh?”
“Final.” Kara said sincerely.
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Hey, i saw you tagged something with "#Kara has been okay with dying for a very long time#makes me wanna write about it" and I just thought I'd pop in to say that if you write about it I would love to read it :D
The Phantoms lie.
She knows this, she knows this. But the truth is, the Phantoms do more than just lie.
They twist memories, create waking nightmares, force you to relive the most painful things your own mind can conjure up.
(And Kara’s mind is a dark place.)
She can distinguish it at first, what’s real and what’s not real. There’s a lot giving away the fake memories, the implanted thoughts. Little details that give Kara enough distance from what she’s seeing to recognize it’s not real.
Things like cruel smirks on Alex’s lips that she never wore in reality.
Things like J’onn’s distrustful eyes following her, like Nia’s disgust when she appears, like Brainy’s disappointed shake of his head when she takes another step.
But then, she loses focus. She loses her grip on reality. Because she sees Lena’s tearstained face, hears her blaming Kara for lies and betrayal and loss and...it’s all true. It’s true, and she finds she can’t tell the difference between the Phantoms’ lies and her own bitter memories.
(She takes another step, needing to keep moving, needing to find a way out, needing to get home.
The lies, the memories, and the hurt all follow.)
It’s cold in the Phantom Zone. Cold, dark, and utterly silent. There’s nothing but the sound of her boots against gravelly soil, chattering teeth, and guilt and blame ringing in her ears, the voices of her friends and family shouting at her, not wanting her, hating her.
(The Phantoms lie. She knows this.
She has to know this.)
There are no signs of passing days. There’s no rising and setting sun, no waxing or waning moons, no indication that time passes at all. At first, she tries to count, to create her own sense of time, using the numbers to block out the voices and the visions, but she loses track, loses focus, watches everyone she loves die and wishes she died with them.
(The Phantoms lie.
She thinks she knows this.)
Kara takes another step. And another.
(It’s painfully cold. Her thoughts make her feel colder.)
A step. She has to keep moving, even if she’s unsure where she’s going. Why is she still going?
(The Phantoms lie.
But lies with a foundation of truth are always easier to believe.)
Kara stops, surrounded by images of all her dead loved ones, and she drops to her knees to join them.
///
When she wakes, she’s in a small cave-like structure, a glow emanating from a fire that gives off no heat.
And the man who has rescued her, the man in the robes and defeated eyes, is her father.
When he notices she’s awake, he’s careful to shift, appear as non-threatening as possible, smiling benignly at her. And Kara just lays there, staring, wondering if she’s dead or if this is just yet another ghost sent to haunt her.
“Kara,” he says finally, breaking the silence, his voice cracked from disuse, tongue clearly not practiced with the single word he utters.
“I’m dead,” Kara guesses, sitting up, watching the robed man who has taken the guise of her father carefully. “Right?”
“No, you are not dead.”
“But you’re not him,” she says, not really accusatory, just stating a fact. He looks at her sadly, like she’s hurting him.
“I am Zor El,” he says, almost like he believes it. “I am husband to Alura. Brother to Jor El. And most importantly, father to Kara Zor El.”
Kara gets to her feet shakily, stepping as far back from him as she can, back pressed against the cave walls. “No, stop. Zor El is dead. He died. He put me in a pod, alone, and sent me off, and he stayed to die with Krypton.”
Like I should have, she doesn’t say. I should have died too.
“You’re not real,” she tells him, meeting his gaze defiantly. The robed man, the man who calls himself Zor El, the stranger, lets out a sigh and hangs his head.
“The Phantoms lie, Kara,” he tells her quietly. “You know this.”
///
They begin their journey. Her hallucination tells her there’s some sort of outpost. A place she can perhaps send out a message, they merely need to get to it. He tells her he will go with her.
He tells her to be strong.
(And she wonders if this ghost knows what she’s thinking, if he can look into her mind and read those dark thoughts she can’t seem to shake.
Because even as she takes step after arduous step, she is focused on a singular notion: perhaps the universe would be better off with her dead. Perhaps fighting had no use at all.
Perhaps, in those endless days, dark and cold and alone in her pod, aimlessly floating through the vast expanse of space, she should have given up. Perhaps it would have been better.)
Ghost-Zor El doesn’t touch her, but she feels his heavy gaze on her, and she turns to him.
“The Phantoms lie, Kara,” he reminds her, giving her a smile that brings back memories of her father, of sitting in his lab and learning more about his work, of listening to his stories, of watching him when he wasn’t paying attention. “You should know this.”
///
Stay warm, he tells her. Find shelter, he reminds her. Conserve your energy, he advises her.
Rest, he says, rest and keep fighting to get home—back to those you love.
She doesn’t ask him how he knows she has loved ones, people she desperately wants to get back to. She merely listens without complaint, obeying thoughtlessly to his suggestions, and lets her mind go blank.
“Are you real?” she asks him after what feels like several days, but could have been weeks or months or years.
Her hallucination never comes too close to her, but he smiles her father’s smiles and that’s enough for her. “The Phantoms lie, Kara,” he says softly, his voice lulling her to sleep. “Don’t forget this.”
///
Everything aches. Each step takes energy she just doesn’t have. It’s as though all the weight she’s always carried, all the grief and pain and regret, has finally become too much, sapping her of everything she has left.
She buckles under the burden, but before she can fall, she feels a strong grip around her arm, dragging her up back to her feet.
“You must keep going,” her father’s ghost tells her, his eyes sad, no warmth from where his fingers are closed around her arm. “This is not where you fall.”
“But it can be,” Kara murmurs hopelessly. And it occurs to her, she’s not quite sure what she’s still fighting for.
A sister who she overshadowed and whose family she ripped apart? Friends who were terrified of her and what was capable of? And Lena—Lena, who Kara has loved from the day they met, but who she has hurt so completely that the CEO will never be the same?
(Kara has been okay with dying for a long time. Okay with dying in her pod. Okay with dying to save Earth. Okay with dying to protect those she loves.
And here now, she’s okay with dying with her father’s ghost—finally, finally joining him.)
“The Phantoms lie, Kara,” the fake Zor El says firmly, forcing her to take another step. “You must remember this. The Phantoms lie, and you must live.”
She stares up at him blankly, and obeys. She takes one step. Then another.
Another.
Another.
And on and on.
She keeps going.
///
Time passes. She’s not sure how much. But her apparition father no longer walks a distance away from her. Instead, he practically holds her up as they keep going, his repeated promises than she can do this all she can really hear.
“I wish…” Kara manages weakly. “I wish you were real.”
Her ghost father chuckles, clearly hearing what she can’t say. (I wish I were with you. I wish I wasn’t alone. I wish, I wish.) “Ah, but I am real. I’m the best parts of you, daughter,” he says. “Resilience, strength, commitment…hope.” He says the last word with some force, as if needing her to understand. “You are good. You are kind. And you try, more than anything you try.”
“The Phantoms lie,” she reminds him quietly. He laughs again.
“Yes, but I am no Phantom.”
And they keep walking.
///
“I have hurt so many,” she says, half carried by the fake Zor El. “I cause nothing but damage and pain. Why would they even want me back? Lena especially?”
“I don’t believe love is as simple as you make it seem, Kara,” the fake Zor El says. Another step. And another. And on and on.
“Love? She hates me. I ruined her life. I lied. I betrayed her.”
“Sometimes we stumble,” the fake Zor El said gently. “Sometimes we fail. But as long as we learn, as long as we get up and try to do better, there is always hope.”
A step. And another. And on and on.
“I do, you know. Love her,” she adds when her fake father seems confused.
He smiles brightly at her, and it’s nice. Even though he’s not real. Even though she’s only partially sure she’s not dead and this isn’t all in her head, even though he’s at best a hallucination and at worst a trick of the Phantoms, it’s nice. Because she’d never thought she’d have the opportunity to tell her father about the woman she has fallen for—the scientist like him, the innovator like him. The woman who made her feel more at home, more like herself, than anyone else.
“Hold onto that love, Kara,” he says, helping her take another step. “If there’s one thing the Phantoms cannot destroy, it is your love.”
She nods, though she doesn’t quite understand. And they keep going.
///
She knows she’s reaching her limit physically. There’s only so much even she can endure. Between the cold, the bone deep weariness, the ache settling in her chest, and the energy sapped from her very being, she’s running on no more than fumes.
She tells herself it’s just one more step. Just one more.
Just.
One.
…more.
“Father, are you—” She stops.
She’s completely alone. The ghost is gone.
Kara trembles, choking not only on the dusty, frozen air, but on her despair. All she wants, all she wants is to stop.
To fall to the gravelly dirt.
To curl up.
To give up…
“Kara!”
(She falls to her knees. The Phantoms lie, she thinks. But what a mercy, what a kindness, she’s going to die with her name on Lena’s lips.)
“Kara! Brainy, we found her. Alex, you’d best come quick.”
(The words make no sense. The Phantoms lie. They lie. They lie, lie, lie.
She looks up, and an angel stands before her. Lena, with wide, desperate eyes. Lena, with hair in a messy ponytail. Lena, in dusty, dirty clothes.
Oh, she’s a sight. She’s an angel. She’s everything.)
“Kara? Kara, we’re here. We’re going to take you home.”
(The Phantoms…have never lied like this.)
“Lena?” Kara manages shakily, unsure if she’s dreaming, hallucinating, dead even. “Are you real?”
Lena doesn’t answer, instead she rushes forward, falls to her knees too, and pulls Kara into a hug. She envelopes Kara in her scent—sweet and flowery—envelopes Kara in her warmth. Her heartbeat is strong against Kara’s chest.
She’s so alive. So present. So very real.
“Lena, my father, he…” But she doesn’t finish what she wants to say. After days, months, weeks, years (she doesn’t know, she can’t tell) of being lost in the Phantom Zone, her body finally caves under the weight of everything she’s gone through.
And she lets go. Falls into Lena. Lets herself be supported. Her eyes close, she breathes in Lena’s scent, and she thinks, even if this is just a lie, just a dream, it’s a good one.
And she knows no more.
///
When she wakes, her first thought is that she’s still dreaming. That the Phantoms lie, and that their lies are growing more and more impressive.
She’s laying underneath a sun lamp, nestled comfortably in her own bedroom, wearing soft pajamas and enveloped in her favorite blankets. There’s gentle music playing from somewhere in the living room, but otherwise that’s all she hears.
(The silence is eerie, disconcerting. She’s unused to such quiet, always assaulted by thousands upon thousands of sounds each and every moment. What a blessing, she thinks wryly, that the Phantoms would lie to her this way—would give her this much peace after so much pain.
And she wonders if this is what dying feels like.)
“Kara,” says her angel suddenly, and Kara turns her head, noticing for the first time that there’s a chair set up next to her bed, that Lena is there, watching her. “I’m so glad you’re awake.”
“Am I dead?” Kara asks. Lena’s eyes widen but she shakes her head. “Are you…are you real? Is any of this real?”
Lena slowly reaches out, giving Kara every chance to say no, to pull away, and she takes Kara’s hand into her own, threading their fingers together.
(She’s warm. Soft. And her touch stirs something inside Kara.
It’s familiar. Hers. Something lost in the Phantom Zone.
Or at least, something she thought she had lost.)
“I’m real, Kara,” Lena says. “We all are. And we’re here for you okay?”
“You found me?” Kara asks, a single tear rolling down her cheek. “You came for me?”
“Always,” Lena swears.
(The Phantoms lied.
But love, love she thinks always tells the truth.)
#asks#butimaloneandfree#prompts#fanfic#supercorp#i started writing this ages ago#back when I thought the show would do something cool#unfortunately I don’t remember much of that season#soooo#sorry
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Supercorptober 2023
"what does it all come down to? love? Love" ee cummings
or
sometimes it just takes something simple to explain something complex
----
The doorbell rang just as Kara was sweeping the last few crayons from the table into a small plastic container.
"Coming!" she called out.
As she opened the door, she realized not only was Alex there to pick up Esme but that Lena must have gotten off of work early as well.
"Hey," Lena greeted as they stepped inside together. "How was babysitting Esme?"
"Chaos, as always," Kara grinned, closing the door behind her friend. "But we had fun."
"Mamma!" As if on cue, Esme ran in from the bathroom where she had been washing her hands.
'Hey, kiddo," Alex knelt in front of her, smoothing back a stray hair from her face.
"Were you good for Aunt Kara?"
"Yup!" Esme nodded enthusiastically.
"We colored! And I learned new words."
"New words, huh?" Alex arched an eyebrow at her sister and Lena.
"I hope they're not the kind of new words you learn from your Godmother?"
She looked even more pointedly at Lena with a smile.
"Please, you just like to blame me for the ones she's already picked up from you."
"And that is one of the reasons I love you."
Alex walked over to grab Esme's coat from the chair and picked up one of the drawings off the table, unable to stop the laughter that came out when she saw what she must have just finished working on.
"Do you not like it." Esme looked up at her concerned coming up behind her.
Alex ruffled Esme's hair.
"Not at all. It's perfect kid. You did a wonderful job."
Alex picked up the drawing and walked past a confused Kara before taking a magnet and hanging the drawing right in the middle of the refrigerator before looking back at her sister.
"You might want to be careful what Kryptonian words you teach your Niece."
Kara didn't miss the idiots Alex whispered under her breath as she walked towards the door.
Esme apparently didn't either.
"Mommy says you're not supposed to call people that."
Alex chuckled as she gently helped her put her arms in her coat.
"And you're Mommy is absolutely correct."
Zipping it up with only minor difficulty.
"Now come on you... let's get some Pizza to bring home for dinner and not tell her I said it."
"Deal!"
Esme turned and waved goodbye, all of a sudden in a hurry with the now-promised prospect of Pizza.
"Bye Aunt Kara. Bye Aunt Lena!"
Alex reached to close the door behind them, but not before silently mouthing the word "idiots" one more time.
As the door shut, both Kara and Lena looked towards the refrigerator, and after a second, both lunged forward, but only one of them wound up with it in their hands.
"Ah-ah, too slow," Lena teased, plucking the drawing from Kara's grasp.
She held it up, studying the image like she would one of her blueprints.
Three simple figures were all holding hands, all drawn out in cheerful lines of different colors. Lena recognized herself, Kara, and Esme instantly.
"Looks like quite the artwork," Lena remarked, amusement dancing in her eyes. But then her focus shifted to the symbols etched next to each figure, and the letters next to them. They were elegant, even in chunky crayon. She had seen at least one of them before.
Kara bit her lip, the earlier playfulness giving way to vulnerability.
She watched as Lena's fingers traced the outline of the figure that was herself, then the smaller one next to it, running back and forth over where the hands were linked before hovering over the word 'ukiem' squeezed in between.
"Ukiem," she murmured, the syllables rolling off her tongue with unexpected ease as she glanced at Kara.
Kara fiddled with some of the other drawings still on the table, the papers rustling softly with each shuffle.
The room seemed to shrink.
"I must admit," Lena began, her voice steady despite the sudden tightness in her chest, "I am not always as well-versed in Kryptonian as I would like to be."
Kara shifted her weight from one foot to the other.
"But I know this one." She tapped the word gently. "Love right?"
"Esme and I were talking about family," Kara cleared her throat.
"About the words we use for family," she began, hesitant yet determined.
"About how we can tell them we love them."
"Family, huh?" Lena's voice held an air of curiosity, her gaze fixed on the colorful drawing again.
"Y-yeah," Kara stammered, her heart pounding in her ears.
"I don't know this one?" Lena confessed, her voice trembling ever so slightly as her fingertip pointed at the word on the page, Zhao, written between her and the other figure on the page. Smiling at the way Esme drew Kara's glasses just a little crooked.
"Zhao?" Lena ventured quietly, placing the word as carefully as she could on her tongue.
"Zhao." Kara smiled, echoed the words back with a quiet certainty.
She swallowed hard. "Not all love is the same in Kryptonese."
"So, family?" Lena pointed again to the words between her and Esme and then those between her and Kara. "And?"
Kara hesitated..."Something more."
"Is that what we are then?" Lena's eyes flickered with their own vulnerability now. "Something more?"
"I'd like it if we were," Kara conceded, taking a deep breath.
Lena's eyes softened, and a small smile tugged at the corners of her lips.
"I think I'd like that too."
----
read and follow along on Ao3 too
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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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Nothing has ever hit Lena like this.
She’s been abducted by aliens. She was almost shotgun married to an alien. Her ex was eaten by nanobots in front of her. She’s been tried to a chair while her brother tried to murder the world’s most beloved hero, and nearly vaporized by a man with a radioactive chunk of another planet for a heart.
Not to mention the mundane stuff. The L-Corp logo in the lobby almost crushing her. Bombs, bullets, blades, being thrown off a balcony, thrown off a roof, left to die in a plane crash.
Almost killed when her brother sent drones to shoot down her helicopter and a golden vision of inhuman beauty came from the sky to save her life.
Of course, that golden vision had tarnished, turned brass. She could be bossy, sanctimonious, paranoid, prone to snapping at Lena one moment… then making her knees weak the next.
Because sometimes, Supergirl wasn’t bossy, sanctimonious, or paranoid. Sometimes she was all dashing grace, with a profoundly frustrating tendency to scoop Lena into her arms and carry her there with surpassing tenderness, as though she were the most precious treasure the alien had ever seen.
Poor Lena’s heart had suffered terribly through all that, yet never skipped a beat.
It skipped now.
Kara looked up from her burger, apropos of nothing. Or, that’s what Lena would have thought a moment ago, before she recognized that scar.
The world spun crazily. Lena grasped the sides of her seat for dear life while alarms and sirens blared in every direction. Smoke coughed noisily from the remains of the turbines that had powered her chopper’s rotor blades. As the world seemed to grow weightless, Lena finally accepted what was happening- the chopper was going to crash. She was going to die.
And then there was a wind.
No, not a wind. A blur of motion, a red and blue streak cutting through the brilliant afternoon light and then a stomach-churning lurch as the falling aircraft just stopped, gently floating to a safe landing on the roof.
With a squeak of tearing metal, she was there. A goddess in primary colors, soft waves of golden hair framing her devastatingly lovely face as she checked the pilot and then turned those arresting blue eyes to Lena and then asked-
“Are you okay? Lena?”
With trembling hands, Lena reached up. Kara froze, a thousand emotions flashing on her face, fear flickering in the oceans of her eyes. They both paused, testing the moment. This was it. They had their choices: Lena could stop, make some excuse. Kara could flinch and offer some gee golly shucks reason to move out of reach and dissemble her way out of it. They could decide not to do this.
Lena did not stop, and Kara did not move. The frames of Kara’s glasses were surprisingly heavy in her grasp as she softly tugged them free and set them aside. Lena raises a hand to Kara’s cheek, ever hesitant quiver of her palm a question. She closed the gap between them on the couch and brought her other arm back up, circling Kara in something that was somehow more intimate than a hug. He best friend sat stone still as Lena worked loose the band that held her hair.
Golden locks spilled about her shoulders, and Lena gasped. She caressed her hand up Kara’s shockingly soft cheek and touched the scar lightly with her thumb.
Lena felt the tears trembling in her own eyes as Kara’s welled with her own. The moment had come; the river was crossed, the decision made.
And yet in this moment there was another one, at once simpler and more profound. Lena’s lip trembled. Anger welled in her chest, burning hot and bright.
It’s not a great question for a Luthor to ask someone in my family.
It twisted in her like venom, burning at her insides, trying to eat through her from the inside out. The fury rose until she thought she’d be sick, and then…
Kara Danvers believes in you.
Take me instead!
I can’t hold both! You have to jump!
I will always protect you.
“It’s you,” Lena whispered. “It’s always been you.”
Before she knew what was happening, Kara drew her forward with surpassing tenderness. Hands that could crack marble gently guided Lena’s weight into Kara’s lap. What had not been meant as an embrace became one, and Lena made her choice.
It was her.
It had always been her.
Noticing small details about them (physically)
#Supercorp#supergirl fanfiction#supercorp fanfic#supergirl#lena luthor#kara danvers#kara x lena#karlena#supergirl fanfic#ficlet#Lena Luthor figures out Supergirl’s identity#seriously she flew here on a bus?#Kara Danvers loves Lena Luthor#Supercorp from a prompt
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Hazy
(fluffy S3 reveal... sort of)
“Thank you for coming, Kara,” Lena said, rising from her desk to approach Kara, as the blonde stepped into Lena’s office.
“Of course,” Kara said, her brow furrowed in concern. “What’s wrong?”
It had been a strange call, from Lena earlier that day - the CEO had nervously requested that Kara meet her in her office right away, a surprising request for a bright Saturday afternoon.
The timing couldn’t have been worse, either - Kara and the DEO were still looking for the worldkillers, fresh on the heels of Purity’s escape and Pestilence’s new plague. But hearing the nervousness in Lena’s voice, Kara decided to fly over and see what was wrong.
“I need to ask you a few questions,” Lena said, leaning against her desk, arms crossed in thought.
“Okay?” Kara said curiously.
“Do you… ever lose chunks of time?” Lena asked.
“Chunks of time?” Kara responded, confused.
“Do you ever arrive somewhere, with only hazy memories of how you got there?” Lena asked. “Maybe you wake up, when you don’t remember going to sleep?”
“I-” Kara’s eyes darted between Lena’s. “No, I don’t lose track of time.”
Lena eyed the blonde, frowning in thought.
“Lena,” Kara said, shifting slightly. “What’s going on?”
Lena watched Kara for a moment longer. It seemed she was weighing some sort of decision - which didn’t last long, as she sighed, her mind made up. “I need to tell you something. And I know it will sound crazy…”
Kara tilted her head.
A small breath. “... I think you’re Supergirl.”
Kara froze, jaw dropping, eyes widening. She knows?, Kara thought. How long has she known?
“I know, I know it sounds crazy,” Lena said, standing up straight again to make her way around her desk. She typed briefly at her keyboard, before turning the computer monitor around to face Kara. Two photos were projected side-by-side - one of her as Kara Danvers, one of her as… Supergirl. “But your facial portions and shape match exactly - along with your eye color, your hair, even the scar above your brow,” Lena said.
“I-” Kara’s mind ground to a halt. Why is she trying to convince me I’m Supergirl?!
“I know it’s a lot to take in,” Lena continued. “But I think… I think you and Sam might be similar.”
“Sam?” Kara squeaked, now more confused than ever.
“Remember how she’s been losing time?” Lena said. “I’ve determined the cause - her cells aren’t human. I’m able to trigger a response to cause them to shift, and I think she may be kryptonian.”
“A response?”
“I believe kryptonians may form alter egos under the yellow sun. These egos occasionally take over, perform heroic acts. Yours and Superman’s would be benevolent, of course. But in Sam’s case-”
And that was the moment it snapped together. She thinks I have amnesia when I’m Supergirl, Kara thought, her mind finally racing with the possibilities that Lena was proclaiming, with Sam’s recent issues. If Sam is kryptonian… “Reign,” Kara said, holding back a shiver. “You’re saying Sam is Reign.”
“Yes,” Lena said. Kara watched as the brunette reached into a drawer, pulling out a small device - larger than the alien detector device, but strikingly similar. Lena put the device on her desk, looking up at Kara again. “I know it’s a lot to take in. But… if I can get a reading of your human cloaking cells from you, and if I can trigger Supergirl into appearing, I think I can use the data to help Sam suppress Reign-”
“You don’t want me in your lab?”
“I…” Lena bit her lip nervously. “No. Supergirl would be uncomfortable there.”
“What do you mean?”
Lena shifted nervously. “I’ve been making kryptonite, to keep Sam in check.”
“Kryptonite?!” Kara said, feeling the panic bubble up in her throat.
“I would never hurt her,” Lena said emphatically, her voice growing a touch desperate. “Or you. I swear, Kara. I’m just trying to help you both. Especially since Sam’s alter ego might kill you.”
Kara stared. And stared. She’s trying to save me, came the thought, cutting through the haze. There was panic, yes - Kara didn’t like that Lena had kryptonite. But Lena thought that Kara didn’t know herself… and moreso, Lena thought that using Kara’s data might help save both Kara and Sam. Rao, she has no idea.
It was time, Kara realized. It had long been time - but with everything she just learned, with Lena so close to the truth… “I know I’m Supergirl, Lena. She’s not an alter ego. She’s me.”
Lena’s brow furrowed in confusion, a slow draw of breath as she processed Kara’s words. “Oh,” Lena said. “You’re… you’re not like Sam?”
“Reign isn’t kryptonian,” Kara explained. “She was engineered by a secret group of kryptonians. To kill humans. And there are two others.”
“I see,” Lena said, searching Kara’s eyes. It was an odd interplay of emotions on her face - confusion, concern, worry.
Kara smiled, knowing Lena hadn’t expected her to be conscious of being Supergirl. She knew she was a bit of a dork - the last person someone would expect to be a superhero. “Will you work with us?” Kara asked.
“Us?” Lena asked.
“The DEO has been trying to capture the worldkillers and deprogram them. We… had one escape, so far,” Kara said tiredly. “I think we could use your help.”
Kara watched the tension melt out of Lena’s shoulders, the small relief of the brunette realizing that she hadn’t lost a friend - she had gained an ally. “Of course,” Lena said.
Kara smiled back, before reaching down to her phone to call the DEO.
-----------------------------------------
Inspired by this fan question from a Katie interview in 2018.
#I saw this video and manically wrote/edited this in 4hrs#so hopefully it doesn't suck#was not originally planning to do this prompt but here we are#remember when I said I wasn't doing supercorptober?#I think this is my 2nd of 4 prompts?? anyway I am a damn liar#supercorp#supercorp ficlet#supercorptober#supercorptober2023#mel writes ficlets#hazy
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Hero: Come on, villain, let`s go.
villain: Wha- But They- Are you seriously- After what they´ve done to you?!
Hero: They´re not worth it.
Villain: Okay we really gotta up your game on the whole "teaching a lesson"-thing cause you, hero, are wayyyy to nice!
Hero: I like you. How nice can I be ?
#sterek#destiel#writing prompt#fanfic prompt#newtmas#coldflash#supercorp#drarry#catradora#xicheng#wangxian#fengxin#beefleaf#hero x villian#peter b x miguel#lokius#cherik#hannigram
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For the fic game: Kara and Lena meet in a book store as they're about to pick the same book. It's the last one so they kind of fight over it, each trying to prove why the book is important to them
(Also on ao3.)
Kara doesn’t recognize her at first. She’s wearing jeans, for one, and it’s not as if Kara is checking her out, per se, but she’d be a liar if she said she isn’t a tiny bit mortified when she realizes the backside she’s been admiring belongs to none other than Lena Luthor, the tech mogul, philanthropist and all around human marvel who Kara is no longer allowed to talk about to her sister, for some reason. She’s just. Here, in the bookstore around the corner from Kara’s office, browsing the stacks as if that’s a thing people still do even when they could probably afford to, like. Buy up Amazon, or something.
Kara makes an honest effort to stop ogling Lena’s ass in favor of figuring out whether she should say something to her. She hangs back, reaching to adjust her glasses before becoming worried her nervous fingers may knock them down and accidentally reveal more than just the fact that Lena Luthor’s butt looks terrific in jeans. She changes her mind, hastily shoving her hand in her pocket instead, but not before she thwacks it into an inconveniently located display, sending a selection of Dummies guides flying in every direction.
Kara is already scrambling to pick them up by the time the sound of it reaches Lena’s ears, already on her knees and flustered by the time Lena turns around.
“Oh!” Lena says, her eyes wide and startled. She’s wearing a pair of glasses herself, huge and heavy-rimmed. “Oh!” she says again, eyelashes fluttering, and then, “I know you.”
And she doesn’t, see, that’s the thing. Not really. Kara has only met Lena three times, and at least two of them were under less-than-ideal circumstances. Kara wouldn’t blame Lena if she didn’t remember her at all, especially when she technically wasn’t even Kara during the second one of those meetings, when she had plucked Lena’s wobbling chopper from a surprisingly unfriendly sky.
(Lena today looks lovelier even than she had looked during that hectic, disheveled encounter, which, in spite of the fact that Lena had been sort of busy surviving her own attempted murder, had been rather extraordinary, in Kara’s opinion. Alex was somewhat less impressed, even after the third time Kara patiently explained it to her.)
Kara tries to give Lena a smile that’s as intelligent and put-together as she can manage under the current circumstances. “Yeah, um.” She rises to her feet, keeping her fingers carefully folded around the books she’s retrieved from the floor. “It’s Kara—”
“Kara Danvers,” Lena finishes with a small, quizzical smile. “Of Catco magazine. Of course.”
And Kara can’t for the life of her figure out why it’s so ridiculously flattering to have this amazing woman place her immediately like this, or why her own name sounds so much prettier when it’s spoken with that peculiar, impeccable diction Lena Luthor has, rolling from lips that are free of the red tint Kara has become accustomed to seeing. This is out-of-office Lena Luthor, Kara realizes. A Saturday morning Lena Luthor, who loiters, perhaps even moseys, who lingers in bookstore aisles long enough to make even the densest version of Kara Zor-El realize (eventually) that she is, in fact, blocking her access to the very section Kara had come here for.
It’s also a Lena Luthor who smiles at her with genuine kindness. It crinkles the skin at the corners of Lena’s eyes just slightly, just an utterly captivating smidge. “That’s quite a selection,” she tells Kara, her voice warm with humor.
Kara blinks at her a few times, and then asks, elegantly, “What?”
Lena gives the books in Kara’s strangling grip a sharply amused glance. Dad’s Guide to Pregnancy for Dummies, Kara discovers when she follows Lena’s gaze, and also Ukulele Exercises, Catholicism, and, perhaps most incriminatingly, Raising Goats. For Dummies, naturally.
“Well,” Kara says. “That certainly paints a picture.”
Lena is grinning, now. “It looks like you have quite the weekend ahead of you.”
Kara rallies. “Don’t judge,” she chides with a cordial glare. “We all have our own ways to relax and unwind.”
“We do.” Lena’s laugh is melodious. “However I’d argue most of them don’t involve siring baby goats.”
“You would say that,” Kara improvises with a surreptitious look at Lena’s shopping basket, “But I bet your choices are actually more unconventional than mine.”
When Lena’s cheeks promptly flush a dusky pink, Kara fights the urge to lower her glasses a little and get a closer look — because she’s almost sure that, tucked underneath To Paradise and The Song of Achilles, she just spotted a copy of the very book Kara herself came here to buy.
The very, very sexy, very queer book Kara came here to buy.
(It’s for research.)
(Kara is interviewing the author on Monday.)
(The fact that Kara is also a huge fan of her work is irrelevant.)
Lena deflects Kara’s remark after only a moment’s hesitation. “Kara Danvers,” she drawls, smoothly placing her body between Kara and her intended purchases, “reporter for Catco magazine.” Kara gulps when Lena aims a single severe eyebrow at her, because this woman’s casual nudge a month ago accounts for an easy ninety percent of the reason Kara now holds that position, and she hadn’t held it last time they spoke. Lena chides, sounding scandalized, “Are you asking me about my weekend plans?”
“No!” Kara shouts. “I would never be so forward, or cross that— I mean. Journalistic integrity is—” She flails, just a little, just for a minute or so, and then she blurts, “Is that a copy of T. Mercer’s Tickled Ink I saw in your basket?”
Lena goes very still, her former fluster hidden away behind a flawless mask of cool composure. A flutter of movement in the muscle at the hinge of her jaw is the only indication she hasn’t gone full Nora Fries. This is objectively terrible. Kara has terrified a perfectly adorable Saturday morning Lena Luthor, and now she has anxiety.
“‘Cause I’m, um,” Kara attempts. She takes a breath. Anything to defrost Lena Luthor, maybe make her smile at her again. “I’m. Actually here for that one, myself.”
Lena’s eyes focus sharply, but her shoulders also ease, like, a millimeter, maybe even a millimeter and a half. “I’m sorry,” she says, and Kara’s already bursting forth to assure her she’s the one who should be apologizing when Lena finishes, flinching, “I think I got the last copy they had.”
Which is, hmm. Inconvenient, Kara wants to file it away as, but in truth it’s a little bit more than that. Because there’s the interview, on Monday. And this is the first in-person interview the author has ever agreed to, after countless emails and under strict order of secrecy regarding her real-life identity, and Kara already feels a kinship with her because of that. And Kara’s read her book, obviously, read all of them, the day they came out in fact, but she doesn’t have a physical copy of this latest one yet, and she’d really like to have the author sign it, maybe even add a little dedication saying Kara is her most persistent fan or something like that.
“Oh,” Kara says.
It gets Lena to soften her posture again, at least. “Are you—” Lena hesitates, seems to need a moment to muster her resolve. “Are you familiar with her work?”
Kara needs a moment too, mainly to stop being distracted by the observation that one of Lena’s eyes seems to be slightly less green than the other so she can choose her next move wisely. Kara can’t tell her the truth, she decides — if she gives away how much she loves the author, she ruins her chances of getting a physical copy before the interview.
Also Lena may start doubting her journalistic integrity, which, gosh. Kara can’t even stand the thought.
“Yeah,” she says. Lena’s eyebrows rise in question. Not good enough. “I mean, a little?” Kara amends. She sends up a prayer for forgiveness and closes her eyes. “It’s pretty run-of-the-mill escapist fodder, I guess.”
Lena’s eyes also shutter, behind long, thick lashes. “Oh,” she says. “Right.” They’re a deep inky black, even without her usual makeup. They form a pretty neat contrast with, you know, with the delicate pallor of her cheeks. She gives Kara a stiff little smile. “More of a guilty pleasure, then.”
“Sure,” Kara says with a miserable sigh, “Her romance arcs are actually a little… trite, you know?” Kara presses her lips together in an effort to keep her bottom lip from wobbling. Okay, that actually hurt to say.
Lena’s hum is unexpectedly shrill. “Trite,” she echoes, the color returning to her cheeks, and good — Kara almost has her where she needs her. Bolstered by Lena’s obvious distaste, Kara breathes out a final volley.
“Yeah,” she cries, “plus,” she lies, “the characters are—” just say it “one-dimensional, their motivations completely mystifying and ever-changing.” Lena is practically scowling now, fortifying Kara’s breaking heart with hope her betrayal will be worth it, in the end. “It’s also pretty obvious she has no idea how to write a proper ending,” Kara finishes with a whimper, convinced she’s stuck the landing.
Lena folds her arms in front of her body, the gesture only mildly impeded by the shopping basket looped around her wrist. “You sure seem familiar with her work,” she says. “For someone who claims to hate it so much.”
Kara freezes. “Hmm?”
Lena narrows her eyes at her.
Kara blows out a slow breath through her mouth and sniffs, her eyes still dripping. “You don’t want that book,” she pouts in a childish last-ditch effort.
Lena’s voice is every bit the CEO Kara had first faced safely ensconced in her cousin’s shadow. “And why is that?”
“It’s, well—” Kara clears the remaining phlegm from her throat. “It’s not… for you. Trust me.”
Lena huffs out a disbelieving laugh. “You barely know me.”
“Well.” Kara takes a breath, searching the ceiling for her next clue. Gotcha! “I know you’re not gay.”
Lena’s mouth and eyebrows all curve in different directions, a face journey so fascinating Kara just stares at it for a couple of beats. Her features eventually settle in an expression that reads as— comical derision? Kara isn’t sure, it’s so complex. Lena Luthor is a very complex woman. “I mean.” Kara panics. “Are you?”
Lena opens her mouth and blinks a few times before actual words come out. “I suppose that depends,” she finally says.
Kara’s terrified to ask, but also she absolutely has to know the answer. “On what?”
There’s that severe eyebrow again. “On whether we’re on the record yet,” Lena says simply.
Kara’s stomach lurches. “No,” she says. “Listen.” She tugs at her collar, suddenly uncomfortably aware of the supersuit beneath her button-down. “I’m here on my day off,” she assures her. “I’m not— and. ‘Yet?’ We don’t have, like, anything scheduled, or—”
“Don’t we?” Lena interrupts her tailspin. Kara watches her, uncomprehending, as Lena fishes the copy of Tickled Ink from her shopping basket before setting it gently down on the floor. “Can I borrow that pen?” She gestures elegant fingers at Kara’s breast pocket and the pen is in Lena’s hand before Kara remembers she’s not supposed to use superspeed when she’s in her civvies.
Lena blinks between Kara’s position a respectful couple of feet away and the pen in her hand for a couple of seconds before she starts flicking graceful strokes of ink onto the title page. “Seems like we both have some introductions to make,” she muses, and then she angles the book so Kara can read what she’s written.
Kara stares at the inscription.
Tess Mercer, it says, in a pleasing, loopy script, echoing the name of the author printed just below it. And above, To my dear friend and most oblivious fan,
“Should I make it out to Kara Danvers?” Lena asks, eyeing the collar of Kara’s shirt where Kara has been tugging at it. “Or to Supergirl?”
-
“For me?” Kara asks, already blushing under Lena’s fixed attention and the color of her voice.
When they eventually sit down for that interview two days later, opting for lunch at a cozy café, Lena’s fingers find Kara’s own when she discloses she’d been meaning to buy the book for Kara all along, reminding Kara one of her emails had mentioned she owned only a digital copy.
“I’ve always preferred a good paperback, myself,” Lena tells Kara with a wolfish grin, sliding a wrapped gift across the table between them.
Flirting is the title. For Dummies.
“Oh yes,” Lena croons.
Kara swallows when she tears the paper to reveal a lurid yellow cover.
“Figured it might come in handy,” Lena says before taking a big, toothy bite. “You know." She winks. "For your big interview.”
#supercorp fan fiction#supergirl fan fiction#fic by ekingston#thank you so much for this prompt! it was a LOT of fun & i’m sorry it took me a year to get to it!#ask meme#theredcapeofk#fan ficlet
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Kara never thought of it when Lena first asked her this question.
"What if someone says; in like a few years maybe, I'd be...gone?" Lena asks, staring at the distance.
Kara got confused at this question. But decided to answer anyway. "Well, I'd most likely, punch them or something. I'm not letting that happen."
Lena chuckled. "You're right...I guess it's just another existential crisis."
"Want to talk about it?" Kara asks softly. Lena just smiles at her. "No, darling. It's alright. It's just one of those times."
"Well, if you need anything...food, movies, a hug, I'm right here."
Lena laughs and nods. "Got that."
She didn't ask that question for no reason. She isn't sure if Kara already figured this fact out already, but their time is limited. Because Kara won't die unless she gets killed with Kryptonite or the day the yellow sun flying over them dies.
Lena knows there's a chance that Kara's life could be at stake at any given moment, but at the same time...there's a possibility that she could have Kara for the rest of her life. While Kara won't have Lena, nor the rest of their family for the rest of her life.
See here's the thing, Kara knew that. But ignorance is a bliss, as they say. She pretends that the day won't come.
But...maybe she indulged herself too much.
Because right now, Kara, swear to Rao, drops the car she's currently carrying as her eyes widen in fear. Through a window, not that big, but big enough for her to witness it firsthand.
Lena, sweet, gentle, beautiful Lena, with a knife pierced through her neck. She heard the enemy responsible for it, the one who's back is facing the window, laugh. Fucking laugh. Kara and Lena make eye contact through the window, Lena smiling gently, softly, warmly, at her. Muttering something no human could hear, but Kara heard so clearly. Her voice as soft as her gaze.
"I love you."
Kara barges in, breaking the whole wall, she rushes to her, hoping she could still save her. Hoping she wouldn't lose her. She can't lose Lena, she just can't.
However, it was too late. The knife stabbed a very fatal spot, and Kara witnesses Lena drop to the ground.
Kara can no longer hear her heartbeat.
"Aww, look at Supergirl. The Paragon of Hope, looking hopeless-"
Before this asshole can finish, Kara pushes him, actually pushes him off the broken wall, she hears him scream and plummet down, but she doesn't care.
"Lena?"
Nothing.
"Please, no. No. Fuck. Please don't leave me, don't take her too, please." Kara tries to get help, but to no avail.
Lena Luthor's death was publicly announced two days later. Many were happy at the fact that there was not a single Luthor left. The Superfriends grieved in their own ways. At least some people in the city actually acknowledged what Lena did for the world and paid their respects. The Superfriends tried to comfort Kara. She appreciates it, of course, but it won't bring Lena, Kara's...everything, back to her.
Now everywhere she goes, Kara just sees Lena.
She would try to go to Big Belly Burger, she just remembers that time they celebrated Lena's birthday there. Noonan's? She just sees Lena's smile when Kara gives her coffee from that place. The park in National City? That time Lena used her magic fully for the first time. CatCo? She remembers every hall Lena ever walked in. She sees a book? She remembers Lena giving her one.
Her own apartment also reminds her of Lena, all the times they had there. Certain foods remind her of Lena. Everything around her is now just a ghost of Lena. Even fucking kryptonite reminds her of Lena.
She's everywhere Kara goes.
No one in the city realized how much Supergirl was so torn over the loss of Lena Luthor.
Some dickwads actually thought she was happy about it, which some idiot reporter asked her one day.
"You must be really relieved that the last Luthor is no longer a threat."
Kara stays silent, yet her eyes emmit everything she wants to say.
Kelly holds back an angry Alex from hitting someone, but Kelly herself is yelling about how insensitive that was, about how this reporter is disrespecting the dead, about how they forgot that Lena worked with Supergirl. Both Brainy and Nia list down everything that Lena has done to save the city.
Kara? She's been silent, before taking a deep breath, looking at the reporter, knowing there are cameras surrounding her, she says,
"This world is nothing without her."
Then, she flies away, higher into the blue skies and screams.
Would you look at that, world. There's a Luthor that successfully broke a Super.
#supergirl#supercorp#lena luthor#kara danvers#kara zor el#kara x lena#angst#i saw a miraculous prompt like this on tiktok#wherein marinette looses her memories yet adrien carries every moment with him#and my brain said: HEY imagine this but supercorp#and i went: bitch bET#and now here we are#hope you liked it :)#i realized i hadn't written them yet#well i have but not in this kind of way#it was always cracks i never wrote an actual well thought of supercorp fic#so here#please like it
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