Eloquent Ends

by PWFishies

Summary:

1) Kara returns to her laptop, flustered. Types, deletes, then retypes. “Just let the damn kid be happy, says CEO of L-Corp."
2) The TV is shut off, and Lena returns to the couch, listening to Last Christmas by WHAM! Kara emerges from the bedroom wearing… a Santa costume.
3) Alex asks her when the wedding is probably once a month.

Notes:

I just wanted to say thank you all. This is my first time writing an actual story in almost ten years. I used to write a bunch of cringy stuff on a different website when I was an emotional kid. These days, it's usually just poetry or songs as an outlet, no longer a hobby.
Shoutout to foleypdx and sangoblep for their beautiful art. Vague references include Hayley Kiyoko, Sailor Fag, Rock n' Riot, Carmilla, The Owl House, and Desert Hearts.

Thanks again, folx. You've been inspiring and wonderful <3

Chapter 1

There’s a moment following game night, after the dishes are washed and goodbyes are wished, when Lena finds herself staring. 

Kara is brushing her teeth and lazily picking at her belly-button. Without the glasses, it’s easier to see exhaustion in her eyes. As she leans to spit, the hair flows past her shoulders, curtaining her face. She splashes water on her cheeks then straightens, using damp hands to pull cowlicks back into a messy, loose bun. She spends an extra minute there, studying her reflection as she lifts and lowers the blonde bundle.

“One of these days, I’mma just cut it all off,” she seems to mumble to herself.

Lena’s brain short circuits.

Maybe it’s the three glasses of wine. Maybe it’s the way Kara feels like home now. Maybe it’s the way the alien mindlessly floats around the apartment these days, using powers subconsciously for mundane tasks. It’s how every safety barrier the two had erected has been either chipped away at, or had a sledgehammer brought through it. 

“You’d look marvelous , darling,” she hears herself drawl.

Kara looks back at her, making a face, but Lena feels the honesty when asked, “Really? You think I could pull it off?”

For a moment, all she can see is a short-haired Kara in her super suit, flying to the rescue of a green-eyed maiden atop a tall, dark tower. It’s a dangerously beautiful scene.

“Would you get a mohawk?”

Kara loses stance and laughs out loud. It fills the apartment and her stomach, and Lena is beyond grateful for alcohol.  “Ooo boy, could you imagine?” She hears Kara call out as she pulls a hoodie and sweatpants over herself. She honestly can’t, but her mind is foggy with how she now smells like clean linen and baked goods. She’s not fully back in her own body until she’s sitting on the couch.

“No, no, just a simple fade,” Kara’s musing as she places items on the small table. A partially-drunk bottle of wine, a gallon of water, two short tumblers, a large bag of assorted chocolates. “Like, buzz a line in the back, and leave a nice quaff on top.” She gestures with one hand encircling her head. “You know?”

Lena nods a bit too quickly and grips the blanket. She hides behind herself. “I know a great stylist.”

The thought is waved away as water is poured and cheesy movies are selected for viewing. The smile remains. Lena allows herself to paint one more dangerous picture in her mind before she falls asleep watching Kara snore.

---

It’s Christmas-In-July-Season on the Wallmark channel, and Kara is confused. Christmas is already a magical holiday that has so much history, tradition, and consumerism behind it, she doesn’t understand why people want it twice a year. That’s just… so much more Christmas than necessary. She asks her sister about it at a barbeque that weekend.

Alex turns slowly to look at Kara. “ Why do you watch…” She stops herself. “I’m sorry, Kara, I just hate that channel.” The agent turns back to the grill, softening. “I can’t get on my soapbox today.” Kara is even more confused, and she apologies immediately, but her sister is a wonderful human, and rubs Kara’s arm reassuringly. “Their representation is just garbage, Kara. And sometimes it makes me mad, that’s all.”

Kara doesn’t fully understand that either, but Kelly and Esme approach, hungry for food and love. Honestly, there’s so much of that going around for anyone to dwell on anything terrible.

She watches her family from the table on the raised deck. J’onn is chatting with Alex and Kelly about the house. Esme is teaching Brainy how to brush the graying golden retriever who is wagging his tail at the attention. Nia and Lena are with the energetic corgi, who is persistent in his quest to fetch. Nia compliments Lena’s maroon sundress, eliciting an excited twirl and bright eyes.

The skirt billows higher than Kara expects. She chokes on a piece of hotdog.

While they’re cleaning up, Alex double checks with her about plans for the following long weekend. Kara confirms and tells her sister to say hello to ‘Uncle James’ for her. Lena brings in more plates as Alex shows off new treats for the dogs. Lena’s eyes alight like before, and she asks if Kara is going to be house-sitting. Alex, knowing the hidden question, laughs,  and welcomes the second pair of hands. Lena has to work Saturday, but would love to spend more time with Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde. Alex insists.

“Are you sure I’m not cutting in on your time with the boys?” Lena asks Kara directly.

“Of course!” She hopes her reply isn’t too enthusiastic.

Lena beams as if it’s not.

---

Mr. Hyde thankfully only has one incident, and it’s before Lena arrives, so Kara has plenty of time to clean. He learns, after watching Dr. Jekyll and being in his crate for time out, to scratch dutifully at the security door when he has to go; he was, after all, just throwing a fluffy, little tantrum.

She spends way too much time debating what to cook for dinner. She settles on butter chicken and rice. A few of the windows are open, so she hears when Lena’s car pulls into the driveway. The sun is setting, and she notes the time. She sneaks a piece of unseasoned chicken to Dr. Jekyll before mixing in sauce, then splitting the prepared food in two.

Kara feels the weight of Lena’s step, how the balls of her feet hit the floor a bit harder; a classic post-heels walk. She notes the wrinkles in the mid-section of Lena’s otherwise pristine pantsuit, the signs of a discarded belt. She can see indents on the bridge of Lena’s nose, and figures most of the day has been spent wearing glasses. She doesn’t get to see much else before Lena is against her, head in her chest, arms around her torso. Kara is a little surprised, but manages to juggle the dishes while wrapping herself around her friend. Lena sighs into her. Kara feels abnormally hot when the breath hits her collarbone.

She shoos away shivers and holds Lena tighter, saying, “You’re just in time for dinner.”

Lena hums, and the mood shifts, and Kara feels like she’s Supergirl holding up a bus of saved orphans as opposed to a bowl of chicken.

They eat in moderate silence, speaking to and about the dogs. Afterwards, Lena borrows Kara’s sweats, and Kara borrows Alex’s horrible tracksuit because she’s always wanted to. It prompts laughter from the stoic entrepreneur.

When they take the dogs for a walk, Lena confides that she’s starting to see a therapist so she can learn healthy ways to manage her trauma. It is helpful, but a very slow process. Kara doesn’t know what to say. Well, she knows a bunch of dumb, corny things that people on TV say. And, yes, that dumb, corny stuff might be true, but those sentiments aren’t going to solve anything.

Eventually, after a long silence, Lena apologizes, and Kara instinctively grabs her hand, shushing her. Lena shifts so their fingers interlock.

Lena falls asleep watching movies. Kara is sitting up in the king-size bed, with Dr. Jekyll laying at the foot of it, and Mr. Hyde between them. She is unable to sleep. The network is playing queer-romance movies, and Kara suddenly understands Alex. This film has girls in boarding school, sneaking kisses in hallways and poems in classrooms.

Lena stirs and reaches out, searching. When her hands find purchase, they grip and pull until her head is on Kara’s chest, buoying the corgi on their bellies. She settles, hums, and asks what’s on.

Kara struggles to remember the name, but does so with the help of the remote. Lena bristles, grabs said remote, and turns the TV off. She then tosses the remote aside, melting back into Kara’s arms.

“‘s’a bad one,” she mumbles sleepily. “Sad end.”

For a moment Kara is upset. Not about the TV being turned off, but about the general state of things. She’s not surprised; half of the movies that night were classified as dramas. She knows that after this movie, the network will start rerunning movies. Wallmark could fill months worth of different movies, every day, and not have reruns.

Her mind races until she registers a sleeping heart rate beating against her breast.

---

Lena wakes up next to Dr. Jekyll instead of Kara, only slightly sad about it. Especially when she smells breakfast cooking. The retriever licks at her face twice, then puts his head back down. She rolls over, stretching, lifting to inhale the scent of Kara’s hoodie out of habit. She yawns and wipes sleep from her eyes, then walks downstairs to the kitchen.

Chef Kara is holding up a piece of bacon while Mr. Hyde is sitting attentively at her feet. She fluffs the eggs with a rubber spatula, then turns the heat off and adds a gratuitous amount of cheese. She continues to stir, adding in dashes of salt and pepper. When Mr. Hyde whines, she makes a noise of admonishment, and says, “Wait for it.” She spoons the eggs onto plates already piled with bacon and toast, then puts the pan in the sink before finally relinquishing the strip with a high pitched, “Good job!”

An award-winning smile turns Lena’s way. “Good morning, sleeping beauty.”

This is nice , Lena thinks when she finally regains the ability to.

They’re sitting at the table, plates scraped clean, sipping tea. Dr. Jekyll has decided to take his nap among companions, and Mr. Hyde is actually in agreement with him. It’s a calm, meditative quiet. Kara’s phone buzzes. She takes a long time to read.

“Everything ok?”

“Yeah, yeah, it’s just Alex,” is the reply, but Kara begins to chew at a thumbnail.

Lena chooses the playful approach. She slowly leans over, eyebrows inching upward, until it reaches a cartoonish level. Kara breaks, explaining that she wrote an email last night that she sent to Alex to proofread.

“What kind of email?”

“A… strongly-worded one,” Kara drags, scratching at her palms. “But I don’t really know who to send it to, or what to do with it. I just… have a lot of feelings about this subject.”

Lena blinks. “Kara… you’re a reporter. If this is some sort of current event that is going on in today’s society… you have every right to write about that. Right?”

Woof. That came out poorly.

But Kara is looking at her like she’s a genius. Like she got into an Ivy League school and graduated top of her class. Like she’s an actual rocket scientist pioneering space travel. Which is all true, but she forgets around Supergirl. She forgets around Supergirl a lot.

“Ho-ly Rao , you’re right.” And whoosh .

Kara flies around, twirling hair into a tight ponytail, grabbing a laptop, finally landing on the couch next to the boys. A switch has been turned on, it seems, and sandy eyebrows have furrowed in concentration. It’s a breathtaking sight that she watches as long as she possibly can. Kara eventually sequesters Alex’s desk, utilizing dual monitors while typing furiously on the portable. At some point, during a moment of clarity, she finds herself asked if this is ok.

“Of course!” She hopes her reply isn’t too enthusiastic.

Kara beams as if it’s not.

Lena cooks dinner this time. She opts for honey garlic salmon. Yes, maybe she wants to show off a little. Maybe she likes it when Kara looks at her with stars in her eyes. Maybe she’s a fool. She finishes dinner, hesitating before lighting candles. She decides she will because why the hell not. Once the dogs have settled and everyone’s eating, she savors the flattery more than the food.

“I sent a draft of my article to Winn,” Kara shares. “Alex had a lot of good additions, and I got some great quotes, so. Fingers crossed.”

“I’m proud of you,” Lena praises, making Kara blush. “What is it about?”

“Representation in today’s media, and how it’s garbage.”

“Oh!” She is too dumbfounded to do anything. Kara takes their empty plates, rinses them, then puts them in the dishwasher and runs it. “I didn’t know you had such strong feelings about that.”

“Neither did I, honestly.” Kara leans against the counter, and Lena lets her eyes linger on toned forearms. “I just can’t stop thinking about it.”

“It’s getting better,” she offers half-heartedly. “Oh, don’t look at me like that. It’s not as bad as it used to be.”

“That’s not enough of an excuse,” Kara pushes. “Media, since it’s conception, has held power . It shapes culture, history, anthropology, government, religion. How did it come to this, exactly? Throughout all of recorded history, how did it come down to, like, five flavors of the same kind of human on TV? Why are those specific types the ‘norm’? How did heterosexuality get to be heteronormativity?”

“Ok, so we are talking about queer representation.”

“Yes, we’re talking about queer representation, but I’m also talking about black representation, people of color, alien-americans or whatever the hell we’re supposed to be called now.” Kara stops pacing. “I just don’t understand. How did thousands of years… millions of people… They were all just collectively erased, or revised. How? How does that happen?”

Lena does not have an answer. She closes the mouth she didn’t realize was agape. She struggles, then asks, “Is this because of the movies I wanted to watch last night?”

“Well… yeah, but, like, not in a bad way? I honestly, hadn’t realized that I never watched any gay stuff, even though I have a gay sister and queer friends, so. I mean, that’s kind of on me.” Anger swells. “But also, whose fault is that? Like, why should I have to go out of my way to see that stuff? It’s not wrong! It’s not porn! Perfume commercials are way worse than half of these movies, and they’re broadcast all over the world!”

Lena has to take deep breaths with her friend. Seeing Kara be passionate about something she also finds enraging is… pretty damn attractive.

Too damn attractive .

“I mean, you’re totally right, it’s not anywhere near good enough. But… it is getting better. There are some gems.”

She shows Kara the good representation, few as it is. Music videos that tell better stories than full-length movies. Younger artists who wear their slurs like battle armor. Fully-colored webcomics that deserve to be published. Excerpts from an underdog webseries that blew up queer-dominated social medias. Cartoons that do it better than live-action. They end with one of her favorite movies, an 80’s classic. This reinvigorates Kara, and she begins amending the article, mumbling sentences to herself every once in a while.

Lena is pleased. “I mean, that’s basically all of it, but there are some gems. We have some gems.”

She suddenly remembers that this piece of information is previously unannounced to the superhero. It’s a long minute before the confession registers. She holds her breath. She doesn’t really know what else to do.

Kara’s typing slows to a stop, eyes searching for something. At long last, she finds it, asking, “Do you want to be quoted in my article?”

Ah, sweet oxygen .

She feels herself growing warm up to her ears. “Oh, I don’t even… I mean, yes! I just… What kind of quote would you be looking for?”

From there, it’s a safe retreat to business-mode. Kara asks standard questions, followed by challenging ones that make her think about her answer. She jokes whether this is a therapy session instead of an interview. Kara assures her that nothing will be printed unless directly approved.

She gets heated when the topic turns to economic repercussions. So the absolute fuck what. Monopolies like Wallmark and Bidney could fill literal years worth with content catered to straight, conservative people. Those pieces aren’t going to disappear once the queer content comes along. These companies are worth billions of dollars, they can afford to lose a few hundred thousand in the box office. It’s important for queer children to know that they aren’t alone, that happy endings exist outside of fairy tales and high school diplomas. That suffering does not always need to precede joy. That there are not always dire consequences to existing . Why is it so fucking hard to just let the damn kid be happy? It’s not. It’s not that fucking hard.

Lena heaves, calming herself, running fingers through knots she has formed in her hair. She apologizes, catching a stare. “What?”

Kara returns to her laptop, flustered. Types, deletes, then retypes. “Just let the damn kid be happy, says CEO of L-Corp.”

She decides that they deserve more wine. She is still forming the right sentence as she sits back down. “It’s just that… Media should show that we, as queer people, are allowed to be happy. In the same capacity as everyone cisgender and heterosexual. Not every queer story has to be family-shattering and dramatic. You know?” She takes a measured sip. “Besides, marriage equality is legal here soooo suck my dick.”

A snort. “Very eloquent.” Tap taptap tap, tap tap, taptaptap. “We’re allowed to be happy, says prominent CEO of L-Corp.”

Lena approves.

Kara is back on the screen for a long time afterwards. She wonders if it’s a bit of a defense mechanism, but she doesn’t really mind. They eventually finish their drinks, and take the dogs out. She makes her way to the bedroom, halfway up the stairs before realizing that Kara is still typing. She pauses, feeling unreasonably bold. She removes the hoodie, holds it in front of her chest, and calls out.

“Do you think I can borrow one of Alex’s shirts tonight?”

Tap tap tap, taptap taptap, tap tap tap. “Oh yeah, absolutely, they’re in the furthest drawer to the… right…” Kara’s voice trails off when she looks up. “By the uh… top… uhhhhh…”

Lena is far more satisfied than she should be. A primal urge ignites, startling her. Sometimes, being an over-achiever can come back to bite her in the outrageously gay ass. She ignores the burning sensation she feels down her back as she leaves.

Mr. Hyde is more than ready to claim the middle of the mattress, and Lena spends a moment debating if that’s a good idea. She decides it is.

Because this isn’t her house, and this isn’t her dog, and this isn’t her bed, and Kara isn’t her wife. 

---

Cat Grant only has a few edits, which is a miracle in and ofitself, but they do have a lengthy phone call. This is apparently going to be a big deal. Now that the world knows of her identity as Supergirl, this article might upset a lot of people. Cat explains that some people will want answers to questions she has every right ignoring. She will receive a lot of hate. She may receive new enemies. Kara isn’t worried, and neither is Cat Grant, really.

“I just wanted to give you a heads up,” her mentor says at the end of the conversation. “When I wrote an article on AIDS, back in the day, I got a lot of anonymous death threats in the mail. You know, the letters cut from newspapers and glued to xerox? It was awful, just awful. Had to hire a bodyguard for my girlfriend at the time.” There’s a sigh. “I know that won’t be a problem for you and Miss… Well, I know that won’t be a problem for you.”

She calls Alex afterward because she feels like she should call someone. Alex agrees with Cat, but is also not concerned. 

“I mean, it’s not like we’re put in any more danger,” her sister says. “It’ll just come from somewhere kind of different. But we’re equipped to handle anything. El Mayarah.”

And Kara finally allows herself to think about Lena. About expensive outfits that look as effortless as sweatpants. She thinks of hair like night skies and eyes like emeralds. Of painted lips and porcelain skin, soft hums and thin fingers.

She visits Lena later, restless. Lena is, apparently, also restless.

There are crumpled papers littering the floor, several takeout containers on the coffee table, and a large schematic covering most of the main counter. Several programming pods sit atop the island, projecting holographic blueprints. The kitchen counter is lined with beakers filled with chemicals, aluminum trays, and an electrical contraption plugged in by the wall. The other table has been moved between the two counter-tops, newly equipped with a large magnifying lens that doubles as a lamp.

Lena is looking through safety glasses, soldering. “I’m so glad you’re here!” She is greeted, even though she hasn’t texted. “I have something for you!”

Kara doesn’t remember what she went there to talk about. “For me?” She feels a familiar fluttering in her stomach. “Why?”

“Because you’ll love it,” Lena replies confidently, finally looking up to wink. “Plus, it’ll make me feel better.”

“Uhh…”

She’s slightly numb as Lena takes her wrist and snaps a watch snugly around it, still warm from work. The metal of the band is dark blue, her blue. The rim, buttons, and a few chain links are made of rose gold. The hands and roman numerals are crimson, and so is a small, iconic insignia on the dial. Lena taps at the glass face with a matte black manicure.

“The pushers and crown are fully functional, but the bevel turns counterclockwise. Like this.” 

The watch transforms by reducing into a flexible layer of sturdy material. It crawls under her clothing, across her back, and around her other arm, reconnecting with itself directly above her heart. There’s a mechanical whir and click. She shivers only a little; it’s been a while since she’s worn her suit. This is different, however. She’s still wearing her cardigan. She lifts her collar to confirm the material is on.

“It’s just a top piece, obviously. I might add a necklace for a breathing apparatus, or a belt for your lower half. Just a little something to keep small amounts of kryptonite at bay. You know,  just in case .” Lena starts to tug at her university sweater, fiddling with holes at the hems. “I figured it would be a practical fit for renowned reporter Kara Danvers. Something you wouldn’t mind wearing into crowds that’s discreet, and not too heavy-handed like your regular suit…” A bit of doubt enters the tone. “What do you think?”

Kara hugs her so hard. “ I love it !” Maybe a little too hard. She loosens her grip, but sways from side to side. Then she pulls back. “How do I turn it off?”

Prideful and beaming, Lena shows her the small trigger where the buckle would be. She shivers again, from nails scraping her wrist.

She helps clean the apartment and listens to the scientist talk about the creation process. There was already a base or something to build from. There were a few complicated recalculations of something. Rewiring something with the electronic components. Something about a holding capacity? Honestly, Kara understands less than half of what is being said.

She’s sitting on the couch while Lena gets changed when she notices a few extra lines through the ‘S’ of her insignia. It takes a second glance, but now Kara is staring at it; at a clear ‘L’. She feels hot everywhere. Like she might start saying some dumb, corny lines from TV soon. She waits until after they’re settled. After sharing the news on the article and congratulatory clinks, when their feet touch under the blanket.

“Hey, so, did you change my logo?”

Porcelain begins to turn pink. “Well… I drew the design. I advanced the technology. Patentable technology. I mean, I think I should get some credit for this collaboration…” Eyes shut tight, embarrassed. “That you totally didn’t ask for. I’m so sorry. If you hate it, I can just take that little piece out, it’s ok.”

Kara does not hate it, and is verbal in her sentiments.

The smile is immaculate. “That makes me really happy.”

She should be used to this by now, being constantly left speechless. By the tension that never seems to fade. Lena is the moon, who ebbs and flows, and Kara decides to go for a swim tonight.

“How long did it take you?”

“Oh, honestly, not that long. I just had to recalibrate the… Oh! That? That’s…” A hand waves. “I’ve been doodling little logos like that since the first suit I built you. I knew it’d never get showcased, so it was just…” A realization hits. “It was just a weird little thing I did for me, I guess.”

Memories flood Kara’s vision. Waking up unable to move, but alive. Being impatient, unfairly demanding more. Lena being boundless with innovation. Emergency protocols, interdimensional travel, artificial suns, witchcraft. She remembers staying up far too late on phone calls from Ireland. Finding inner strength from their conversations during the trials. She questions how much time she has thrown away in insecurity.

She fills her sights now with a vulnerable Luthor, feeling the sudden compulsion to pray. She swallows, trying to be brave.

“It looks good.” Not quite. “We look good.” Almost. “We look good together.”

There it is.

Lena’s heart rate sky-rockets. Kara hears it pounding in her ears as the wine glass is slowly lowered.

“I always thought so.”

They kiss like awkward highschoolers at first; shy and uncertain. Time slows, and the kisses grow fervent. High tide moves quickly. They are already half baren when Lena huffs in a flirtatious tone, “This is… very hot, darling, but I’d rather you take me on the bed.”

She does not need to be told twice. She lays Lena down, but does a quick zip-around the apartment to make sure everything is locked; more importantly, the blinds are shut. The wind she creates blows back hair, and she notices ragged breathing. Biological indicators set off fireworks in her extraterrestrial brain. She has a hard time stifling her response.

“I might destroy you tonight.”

Pupils explode. “I might let you try.”

---

Lena is not prepared.

She’s literally running on, like, three hours of sleep.

There’s no reason for this unhealthy decision. This project is completely hers, in her own space, on her own time. She just can’t stop herself when inspiration blooms. She’s ecstatic when Kara visits her unannounced. She loves remembering that she’s actually rather remarkable.

She’s caught off guard by cherry chapstick and desperate moans. By being asked what she likes and getting it. By Kara, reverent and thorough. She loses herself prematurely, grinding on thighs, gripping at dampened shoulders. She gives a shaky apology, but is silenced with soft lips and calloused fingers. She shifts, pushing them inside. A whimper cuts through the thick air.

“ Fuck .”

Kara straightens to take in the view, pulling hair to the side with one hand, curling fingers upward with the other. They lock eyes and begin to rock in rhythm. She reaches up to play with her nipple, a trigger that sends Kara’s face diving downward. She cries out as a tongue finds her clit and swirls.

“ Suck on it .”

 Kara grows hungry, feral. Lena grips at the head between her thighs, entangling fingers in platinum hair. She clenches her legs instinctively, but is held back open. Her back arches, hands springing from head to headboard. She bucks through the climax, gasping and unabashed. It’s so intense that she needs a moment to recover.

“You ok?”

“Oh God yes.” She’s handed a glass of water and sits up, drinking more than half. “You are… very good at this, my dear.”

“Why thank you.” Kara seems pleased, and gives a wink over the rim of her own glass. Then says, “I have great motivation.”

“You’ve never done this before?” Lena double checks in disbelief.

A head shake. “No, it’s more of a Kryptonian thing.” She taps at her temple. “Our brain structure is different. Kind of like a hard drive. Like a… Like a fight-or-flight response on steroids.”

“I see.” Lena purposefully places the glass on the farther nightstand, rolling over to expose her backside. She reaches in the bottom drawer and pulls out a strapon. She looks over her shoulder, back at Kara, whose jaw has slackened. She holds the tip precariously close to her lips. “Does that mean you know what to do with this?”

Kara’s nostrils flare as she nods and licks her lips. She leans forward for the exchange and takes her time retreating, trailing wet, languid kisses down Lena’s spine. It successfully covers Lena in goosebumps and compels an animalistic counter. The kind with feverish biting of lips and nails scraping skin.

She somehow maneuvers the hero against a wall amidst surprised giggles and urgent moans. She holds a half-lidded gaze as she slowly drops to her knees, then takes a long, tantalizing lick between Kara’s legs.

“ Hah !”

Lena is more than delighted to watch the threads come undone. The beads of sweat forming, the undulating hips, the hands trying not to break anything that they grab. She refuses to blink, convinced she’ll somehow sear this image into her memory forever. There’s a sudden burst of sweetness in her mouth, and Kara screams her name. She’s savoring the taste when the recipient drops to join her, murmuring praises in her ear. She flushes hot everywhere, pleased with herself.

They stumble back onto the bed somehow, thankfully, and fumble through the process of getting equipped. The lube tingles and makes Lena’s pulse throb in her clit, especially as Kara takes ass in hands and spreads her open, teasing her entrance with fingertips and pink silicone. She holds onto hardened biceps as she lowers herself, taking in the full length of the toy. When it’s all the way in, she’s mewling into Kara’s mouth, begging.

“ Please fuck me .”

Kara, careful and methodical, gentle yet firm, obliges eagerly. Lena’s knees give out far too early, but that’s the perk of having sex with a superhero; they can do the heavy lifting.

It feels different from the other, overly-confident men she has been with. Men who flex every muscle unnecessarily, who would throw her around like a ragdoll. Grunting and shoving, as if such acts of sexual aggression were attractive.

Kara Danvers, on the other hand, is attentive. She speeds up because Lena demands it. She stops when the dildo slips out, and Lena misses, wincing in pain. She waits for the command to continue. She says things like, “let me see you” when Lena’s close, and “I want to watch you cum on me.” She asks permission to cum with her.

Lena Luthor isn’t used to this. She’s used to hiding, or adjusting, or compromising, or performing. With Kara, she’s genuinely exposed and excited. It’s terribly arousing. So much so that she ruins her sheets this round. She forgot she could get that wet. She’s almost embarrassed, but Kara is whimpering fuck yes, baby, fuck yes against her lips.

They take another break and lay down, panting. Lena drinks the rest of her water, noticing that everything is sufficiently damp. She feels a small, adult twinge of pride. “Maybe we should sleep on the couch tonight?”

Kara nods, chest heaving. “We should… we should shower first.”

It’s there, under the hot water and steam, that the overdue confessions finally surface. Sweet sentiments between chaste kisses, shy confirmations of years of pining. Soft and wholesome, as if they weren’t in an x-rated film earlier. For a moment, it’s all too good to be true and Lena nearly panics. Kara washes her back patiently, and presents a strange logic.

“If you’re dreaming this up, you’d know what I had for breakfast yesterday,” Kara reasons. “My existence outside of your interactions with me wouldn’t be a thing. Or, at least, it would be a thing you’d know about.”

“You probably had donuts.”

Kara laughs. “Ok, bad example because it’s obvious. What did I do before this?”

Lena is satisfied in only one accord. “Oh yeah. What did you do before this? Why did you visit?”

“Cat gave me a talk about new threats and stuff, and… she mentioned her girlfriend needing security detail when she did something similar years ago…” A tongue click. “And I know that we can all handle our own, but… I dunno, I just… I wanted to see you.”

“You wanted to see your girlfriend,” Lena sings off-key.

 “I want my girlfriend to be safe,” Kara says, planting a determined kiss that she smiles into.

“Oh, I have my own watch. But I’d love to make us a matching set.”

---

They manage to go six weeks without telling anyone. It’s not a secret. They’re not ashamed. They want to postpone the backlash. They give it another month before announcing via a cover-article featured in Cat-Co magazine.

She manages to convince Kara to see her stylist, and she gets her own chop first in solidarity. She has the sides shaved off, keeping the upper third and length. She feels like the rebel teenager Lillian never allowed. She holds her head higher.

When all is said and done, there are thirteen inches donated to charity and pools of black and yellow curls on the floor. Kara is in awe of herself. She looks at Lena, then looks back into the mirror. A recognition in the reflection.

The photoshoot is fantastic and unexpectedly fun. Cat Grant must have chosen the outfits because they are spectacular . She wears a long, red dress that dips in a low V in the front and back. She’s accessorized with a sapphire pendant, earrings, and bracelets. Her manicure, eyeshadow, and heels are golden sparkles. She’s downright giddy by the time she sees Kara and loses her mind.

Kara is dressed in a three-piece navy, pinstripe suit, tightening a silk tie that matches Lena’s gown. The dress shoes are polished to a shine, with a black tip and boot, and shimmering accents along the wings. The white button up underneath everything has a high-quality sheen to it. The cuff links have rubies in them.

Everything is so extravagant that they feel like actual superstars. They take hundreds of photos. The cover shot is one of them standing back-to-back, staring down the camera. The article is all about power-couples. There are single, full-body shots of each of them alone, a prom pose, and the classic nose-to-nose.

Her favorite shot is one from the casual part of the session. They no longer have the jacket and jewelry, the accouterments and such, and are sitting next to one another upon a large, ornate chair. Kara is rolling up one sleeve, purposefully exposing the watch, smiling at her; she has said something so funny that Lena is wiping away tears and holding onto her friend’s shoulder. Her girlfriend’s shoulder.

They both ask for a copy of that one.

Chapter 2: Holly Jolly

Summary:

“Your what?”
Kara looks like she hasn’t been deterred this whole time. “I mean… Do you still wanna see it?”
“Of course I want to see it!”
So the TV is shut off, and Lena returns to the couch, listening to Last Christmas by WHAM! Kara emerges from the bedroom wearing… a Santa costume.
OR
A small, gift-giving exchange involving elements both naughty and nice... mostly naughty.

Notes:

Hello again. I, ah, didn't expect to write this. It just kind of... happened. If you liked it, let me know. I might write one more chapter. Thank you all, again, for being so lovely.

It's the actual Christmas season and Kara Danvers is prepared. She has a real pine tree decorated with tinsel and glass blown ornaments. She hangs garland throughout the apartment and LED lights around her windows. She even has a stocking for Lena. She’s so ready.

Well… she’s mostly ready.

They promised each other no gifts, which Kara is thankful for. After all, what do you get the woman who has literally everything? It’s too much pressure, and individually, neither ladies need much. When special occasions are celebrated, they go out to a fancy dinner, or take a trip somewhere. Every so often, they’d get each other flowers. They are planning a visit to Ireland for their one-year.

Lena doesn’t even like Christmas that much. Old family wounds, she says. But her smile is abundant whenever she is over at the apartment. She claims it’s Kara’s enthusiasm that is infectious. Maybe it is. Or maybe Lena Luthor has never been given cliches of affection like teddy bears and chocolates (as she so rightfully deserves).

“I just want to give you something that ‘wow’s you, you know?” Kara says one night, after kissing her girlfriend under the mistletoe.

A smirk appears. “You give me orgasms all the time, love.”

If she still wore her glasses, they’d be fogging up. “You know what I mean!”

Lena, laughing, pulls her in for more kisses. She rubs her nose against Kara’s crimson cheek, and croons into her ear, “Kara Danvers, you are my gift.”

That’s when the lightbulb goes DING.

She does internet research. She tries watching several videos, taking a break halfway through. She uses a notebook for key points to remember. It takes days to come up with even a small amount that Kara feels is satisfactory. She’s embarrassed with almost every attempt.

Every time she doubts herself, she looks at the framed photo from their Cat-Co article. She stares at the insignia on her watch; their insignia. She goes through old text messages and listens to voicemails where Lena sing-songs, “I love yooouuu” at the end. After a few weeks, a bit of practice, and a lot of patience, she’s finally ready.

Today is technically New Years Eve. The Twilight Zone is marathoning on television, while she’s cleaning leftover Chinese food containers. Lena returns from the bathroom in her nightgown, nonchalantly sitting on the couch, but Kara hears the change in heartbeat from a mile away.

“Everything ok?”

Lena hesitates, a look in her eyes. “So. I know we said no gifts, but… I got you a little something.”

Kara is now extremely worried. There’s no way her gift will ever compare to whatever it is that Lena freaking Luthor has in store.

---

“It’s nothing big! And technically, it’s mine. But it’s something we’ll both enjoy.”

She hopes. Oh God, she hopes so.

Lena Luthor has been waiting for this moment for weeks.

The “no-gifts” rule was originally her idea. After all, what do you get the woman who can literally touch the stars? And it works quite well, for a while. She loves getting dressed for dinners and watching Kara question the abundance of silverware on the table. The joy from simple surprise flowers is like a drug. Eventually Lena realizes that gift-giving is a central aspect of her love language. Which… is not an easy epiphany to have.

Therapy helps her understand love in more ways than fiscal. Like cooking dinners, or giving compliments, or proudly displaying affection publicly. To be fair, Lena does these things too. It is difficult for her to let that be enough. She sometimes feels that it’ll never be enough. Like she could buy the Eiffel Tower and it still wouldn’t be a testament to her love.

“You don’t have to buy me anything to be ‘good enough’,” Kara responds to this sentiment adamantly. She takes Lena’s hands, kissing the palms. “ You are enough, Lena Luthor. Just you .”

A new idea forms.

It’s not ‘new’ new; she did this once before, for her first boyfriend in college. This, however, would be much different. She spends twice the budget she anticipated after scouring online shops for hours. She triple-checks her measurements before hitting confirm. She spends a week in and out of the outfit, hating it and hating herself for thinking she could pull it off.

She holds the framed photo of them. She goes through texts to find Kara’s reaction to her selfies. She finds her favorite pair of heels and puts them on. When she walks like a supermodel, she starts to feel like one. She wears the outfit under her work clothes one Monday, and suddenly feels like she can conquer every bit of self doubt she ever had.

Until she’s sitting on Kara’s couch.

She’s trying to pay attention to Rod Sterling and failing miserably. It’s the moment of truth, and she’s losing her nerve. She feels like she’s about to look quite foolish. Especially after saying something so confident. But she’s come this far, and anxiety be damned.

So she stands and sheds her robe with a tentative, “Ta-da.”

Kara’s jaw drops.

Lena is wearing three pieces of clothing. A red, satin-bow choker, a scarlet lace thong, and a matching, top-less lace bra.

The superhero looks close to implosion. Lena’s thoughts immediately swing from one end of the spectrum to the other. She lifts her chin and quirks an eyebrow.

“Did I break you?”

At last, Kara inhales, clutching her chest and fanning herself. She tries to talk. “Buhhh. Huuuh. Hubbaaa.” She exhales, vibrating lips together and running both hands through her hair. Then she’s all smiles and kisses. “Holy shit. Holy shit ! Lena. Babe. You look so good, holy shit.” She eventually pulls back, sighing. “My lapdance is gonna be totally underwhelming now.”

“Your what ?”

Kara looks like she hasn’t been deterred this whole time. “I mean… Do you still wanna see it?”

“Of course I want to see it!”

So the TV is shut off, and Lena returns to the couch, listening to Last Christmas by WHAM! Kara emerges from the bedroom wearing… a Santa costume.

It starts easy, all doofy waves and finger guns, dramatic swirling of the hat poof and such. Then she snaps a pose, gloves flying off. She spins, rips the beard and hat off, then dips into a full split. Lena cheers, mandible slackening. Standing without using arms, she approaches. She unbuttons her top, leaving the last one as an offering. Once undone, the jacket is flamboyantly tossed aside, and several bodybuilder poses are struck.

Obliques? Yes, please . The lack of bra is a marvelous choice.

Hands are taken and run up a taut torso, stopping at the nape of a damp neck. Her lover leans in close enough for a kiss, then retreats, dragging Lena’s palms back down to the waistline gutter. She instinctively grabs at the pants, which proved to be break-aways.

Kara hip thrusts enthusiastically, clad in tight, holly-print boyshorts, complete with a pair of tiny bells at the hem. Lena howls with laughter and practically screams when that ass shakes so close, jingling all the way.

The dance is finished on knees at her feet, to vigorous applause.

Lena kisses her.

She kisses her and kisses her, again and again. Until oxygen is scarce and lips are sore. She inhales sharply as Kara’s hands brush over her breasts. Teeth graze skin, breath tickles collarbone. Thumbs draw circles over stiffening nipples.

“Oh fuck.”

She undoes a clasp and carefully removes the expensive top. Hands drop to knees and run up thighs, eager to help with the process. She maintains eye contact as she places her foot on a sternum and spreads herself. Using her middle finger, she pulls slick from her opening onto her clit. She curls her hand up, collecting a string of pre-cum, then leans back, pushing her pelvis closer to the edge of the couch and her digit further in.

“Oh, fuck .”

Dark pupils obscure blues as Kara watches her finger herself. She feels an erratic heartbeat thumping against her sole. She lets out a long, provocative moan, louder than anticipated. Patience shatters. One leg is tossed over a shoulder, the other pushed aside, opening her wide enough for three.

“Oh! Fuck !”

Lena sits up, sinking into the hold, biting her bottom lip. Kara rises to meet her, pulling a thumb across her mouth to open it.

“Let me hear you.”

A finger from the upper hand hooks under her choker. The three below retreat and a single one slides slowly, tantalizingly up and down. Exhales grow higher in pitch. The one finger lightly slaps at her vagina, the tip nearly re-entering with each wind up. Her pulse quickens. Her muscles throb. Releasing hold of the bow, Kara leans back and down, teasing her clitoris with the very tip of a tongue.

Erotic sentiments tumble out of her. Bodies collide almost violently, with obscene sounds and unexpected dirty talk.

“You like this?”

“ Yes .”

“How much?”

“I fucking love it.”

“Tell me.” Kara wraps an arm around her torso. “I want to hear you cum for me.”

Lena bucks and clenches. “ Oh fuck! ”

What leaves her throat are more abstract sounds rather than formal words. It’s one of those deep, guttural orgasms that causes a full release. She feels the terrain change from suede to skin, compelling a heated rush of cum that covers abs and inner thighs. And probably the carpet? But she’s too busy saying fuck twenty more times to notice.

Low, satisfied humming fills her ears as she gasps for breath. She holds onto shoulders as the shakes subside and fingers are gently pulled out. Kara kisses the sweat across her brow, carefully maneuvering numb legs around a wet torso. She’s lifted back onto the couch, then left for the briefest of moments, before being handed a freshly poured glass of water.

Bless her girlfriend.

“You ok?” Kara tends to double check after particularly intense escapades.

Lena nods, finally managing to utter, “Looks like I owe you another rug.”

Chapter 3

Alex asks her when the wedding is probably once a month. The first time, it caught Kara completely off guard. She had spat out her beverage, much to the dismay of her company.

“Oh, gross! Kara, I was kidding!”

“W-well I dunno! Are we supposed to be thinking of marriage this early? Is that how quickly gay earthlings get married?”

“What? No! Well … No, no, no.”

“Has Lena, like, said anything? Or?”

“No, no, nothing like that.”

“We haven’t even tried living together.”

“Right, I know-”

“And neither of us have discussed what aging will look like-”

“ Kara .” Alex stopped her. “I’m sorry. It was just a joke. I feel like you two have been in love forever, that’s all.”

She deflated, her insecurities flaring. “I don’t know how to do any of this, Alex.”

But Alex joined her side of the booth, and threw an arm over her shoulder. “Hey, hey now. You’re doing great, Kara! I know it feels like you’re not, but you’re doing really great.”

She looked up at her older sister. “Really?”

Alex nodded, giving a reassuring smile. “Really really.” She ordered another round and grabbed napkins. “You know… Lena has talked about you. Not about marriage! Just… about you.”

Kara sat up. “What did she say?”

Alex waved it away, remaining nonchalant. “Oh, she gushes about you all the time. How kind you are, how great you are at baking, how comforting your snoring is. Plus-” An eyebrow wiggle. “She thinks you’re cuuuute .”

By the sixth time, they had just returned from Ireland. Kara was showing Alex all the pictures she took. There were… many of Lena. Even when she meant to just capture architecture, an old castle, a windy day on the moors, a cozy view from inside the local pub as it rained outside. She loved capturing the marvel in Lena’s eyes, more so than the scenery. 

Usually Kara would manage to shrug the question off, make another joke, or redirect the conversation. That time, she had remained silent, looking at something noncorporeal in the air. Alex’s brow furrowed, and she snapped fingers in front of her blank stare before clapping loudly next to her ear. She jumped back into her own body.

“I uhh…” She paused, swallowing. “I’ve been thinking about it.”

Alex’s eyes widened. “Been thinking about it, huh?”

Kara felt sweaty and lightheaded. “I don’t even know how to have that conversation.”

“It’s… not an easy one to have,” Alex sympathized, choosing words wisely. “But it’s definitely one you need to have with her .”

Kara Danvers knows she wants to marry Lena Luthor. She knows she wants to spend the rest of her days feeling like a duo. She knows she can make Lena the happiest woman in the world. What she fears is life after Lena. In a hundred years, when the love of her life is in the ground, and Kara still looks half her age. When the skyline changes, and their house remains an echo chamber of memories. What will that be like?

Will she be strong enough?

---

It’s a late summer evening. The streets are abuzz with activity, full bars with open canopies, food trucks garnering small crowds in the parques, art exhibits hosting new pieces. They spend hours among the hustle, enjoying National City’s quaintest, opting for low profiles as opposed to the high-end part of town. They are asked for a few more autographs and photos than usual, but the folks are all kind and busy themselves. It’s a rare break from the norm. The sun is setting by the time they get back to their new penthouse suite.

Lena wipes makeup off while Kara runs a hot bath. There’s some lavender bubbles and menthol oil dropped in for extra flare. She kisses her thoughtful girlfriend, then eases herself into the water. She catches a stare and wiggles eyebrows playfully. The tub is certainly large enough for two.

“Care to join me, babe?” 

Kara politely declines, but lingers, brushing teeth and returning once she has changed into nightwear. She sits on the wide edge, biting a thumbnail. Lena watches intently. Her girlfriend has been uncharacteristically quiet for, like, an hour. And now she doesn’t want a fancy bath? She takes the offending hand between her own, pulling attention.

“What’s wrong?”

Kara places a palm against her chest, locking eyes. “Do you… want to marry me?”

Lena has known she wanted to marry Kara since the beginning. From the firm handshake, to the Phantom Zone. From gnawing nightmares of guilt, to postsecret living. What an easy question. It’s the sincerity that catches her off guard.

She strokes a bronze cheek with her thumb. “Of course I want to marry you, Kara. Why do you ask like that?”

Kara looks at her for so long, as if it’ll be the last time. As if someone will blink, and they’ll already be old. Finally, she whispers, “I’m scared.”

Lena feels the weight of realization like a metal chair from behind.  “Oh, Kara .” She almost literally smacks herself.  “Come here, love.” And she pulls a teary-eyed, surprisingly fragile, fully-clothed superhero into the bath.

She hasn’t considered the near-immortality aspect; hasn’t allowed herself to. Shit, she’s still perfecting the L-Suit to be able to fly at altitudes that Kara is capable of, nevermind matching the speed or battery power. That’s why she has ships. She tries to focus on the things she can accomplish, not necessarily the unconquerable things… like death. No wonder Kara Danvers is scared. For god’s sake, the woman will live to be a thousand-and-a-half years old. What will things even look like after Lena has been dead for five, or ten, or two-hundred years? It’s one of the few times that Lena considers her life simple, relatively speaking.

She forms her words carefully, kissing temples. “I’m sorry. It’s easy for me to say that I’ll be yours for the rest of my life. I forget to think about your distant future, about your powers.”

Kara relaxes, kisses her jawline and sighs. “I do too. Sometimes.”

Lena pulls back and lazily pours water over blonde hair. “While we’re being terrifyingly honest, I’d like to point out how pissed I’d be if you wanted to quit now.” She’s emboldened by the smiling reception, even if it’s half squinting. “I know that’s selfish, but I’m mad for you, Kara Danvers. And after everything we’ve been through, I’ll fight for you.”

Kara smirks. “I would pay so much money to see you in the ring.”

She gasps dramatically. “You dirty girl!” It’s lovely being able to make her girlfriend laugh. Wait… fiancee? “That wasn’t your actual way of proposing to me, was it?”

“No!” The heat of the water helps the sweat build to a tantalizing level. “No, no, no, nonononono. No, I’ll propose properly!” She pauses. “I mean, I haven’t really thought about how yet. I, um… I wanted to check first.”

Lena wants to be coy, but this situation requires much more empathy than she’s used to. She is relieved, unburdened even, that she doesn’t have to worry about a life without Kara. So it’s her turn to put her lover’s hands on her chest. She knows she doesn’t need to, that Kara can feel her pulse through concrete, but she’s a sucker for romance.

“I’m yours for whatever my forever is worth.”

Kara’s form becomes malleable, and she sort of melts sideways before entangling hair with wet hands and sliding in. It’s a sacred kind of kiss, one that she used to read about in fiction books as a young girl. Lena nearly forgets to breathe.

“Promise you’ll keep reminding me?”

She refuses to lean away, lips still touching when she whispers, “Always.”

---

The actual proposal is nothing like she expects. She’s cooking dinner when Kara walks over, takes her hand, and simply slips on a ring; carved tungsten with emeralds. They burn dinner that night.

Lena has to scramble a bit to pull off her engagement present to Kara, but she manages to get it done a week later. She almost considers hiding it until the wedding, but she can’t lie to Kara worth shit anymore. So upon arriving home, she stands in front of her fiance and exposes her wrist.

Kara, mid yoga stance, almost faceplants. “Is that permanent ?”

“I want to honor your people.” Her voice is softer than she expects. “I want to honor you.”

Tears are streaming down Kara’s face by the time they’re in each other's arms. Lena is almost surprised. She forgets how blubbery the girl of steel can be.

“These better be happy tears,” she says, ignoring the sweat and snot accompaniment. The head rocks up and down in the crook of her neck. “Good. I made an appointment for you next week.”

The framed wedding photo they hang above the mantle is one with their complimenting wrist tattoos in the foreground.

---

They’ll go on to adopt a stray that Clark finds on his farm; a pale white mutt with increasingly familiar and extraordinary powers.

By the time Esme graduates high school, Lena will be perfecting an L-Suit capable of spending 72 hours in deep space.

Kara will fall in love with every new wrinkle, every gray hair.

Enemies will come and go, never anything too universe-altering.

Lena will make arrangements for her body to be cremated, with a handful of ashes to be turned into a ruby.

When the time comes, Kara will add the ruby to the tungsten ring, then add the ring to her outfit.

But we’re getting ahead of ourselves.

There is much to cherish now. Much to explore, to fight and to fix, to have and to hold. A lifetime of sickness and health, and badass matching suits await them.

This might not have been the beginning, but it most certainly was not the end.

Notes:

Thanks again for taking the time to read this. Sorry it didn't end with one last super smutty scene. I kept trying to add one and couldn't find a spot. But maybe it doesn't need that? Anyway, truly, thank y'all for being such a great audience. It's been so fun writing again.