Welcome To Madness😉

https://archiveofourown.org/works/63773605

Her supportive family and partner? They bail. All fawning over the hot chick next door. Even Maura gives her the up-down.

But Maura is the one that drags the mattress up the stairs with Jane at the end of a long day. Maura is the one on hands and knees for Jane. No one else in Jane's life has shown up to support her in her cheapskate spendthrift ways. Except Maura.

Maura would have paid for delivery, but Jane doesn't want Maura to think she likes her for her money. Instead Jane bullies Maura into physical labour with the promise of wine.

And Jane delivers.

Well, she doesn't get her mattress delivered. But she gives Maura the wine she promised, and they lie clothed on a naked mattress that has been on Jane's floor for at least two days.

And they talk about getting married and ask if they're in each other's fantasies.

Maura is the second person to use this mattress, and she uses it with Jane.

And sometimes real life is better than any fantasy can be because Maura has Jane's back, even when Jane does things the hard way, even when it means listening to the traffic from the mattress on the living room floor with a dog curled between them.

M rated Supercorp fluff😉

«There are many worlds that pull her away. But there’s only one that brings her home.»

Kara blinked awake to the weight of sunlight and Lena’s arm draped heavily over her stomach.

It was quiet—the kind of quiet that only existed in the window between sunrise and responsibility. Birds outside chirped with maddening optimism, but the apartment itself, cocooned in filtered morning light and the smell of roasted coffee from the pot Lena had clearly programmed the night before, remained untouched.

Kara exhaled slowly, trying to not move too. Lena might wake up if she shifted and she didn’t want to lose this moment. The gentle rhythm of Lena’s breath against her neck, the bare leg tossed almost possessively across her thighs and the lazy way Lena’s fingers twitched in her sleep against Kara’s ribs—it was all too perfect to disturb.

And yet…

Her body wasn’t on the same page as her brain. It had been weeks. Weeks spent apart—Kara lost in other worlds, other stars; Lena buried in deadlines and time zones. Both of them trying not to notice the empty side of the bed. But now, finally, they were here. Together.

Kara had come back late last night, worn down from yet another Earth-1 mission—one that had dragged on far longer than it was ever meant to. She’d slipped into bed quietly, well after midnight, careful not to wake Lena. But Lena had shifted toward her anyway—half-asleep, instinctive. Her leg had found Kara’s hip, her hand sneaking under her shirt to rest warm and familiar against her ribs. And now, in the tender light of morning, she was still there. Warm. Soft. Draped over Kara like she belonged there. Like no time had passed at all.

And Kara ached.

Not with need, exactly, but with something deeper—an ache for closeness, for comfort. For the quiet, everyday intimacy she’d missed more than she could admit. The weight of her sleepy wife against her own body made her feel real again—like she’d finally returned to the purest version of herself.

Kara rolled onto her side and propped herself up on one elbow so she could watch Lena. God, she was beautiful. Her dark lashes fluttered lightly and her mouth parted just enough to give Kara thoughts that <em>absolutely</em> didn’t belong in such a calm setting.

A smile tugged at Kara’s lips.

Her hand moved of its own accord to brush a loose strand from Lena’s temple. Then her fingers were trailing down—light and barely there—over Lena’s collarbone, her ribs, the soft curve of her waist. Lena stirred with a hum, her body arching toward Kara’s touch like it had been waiting for it.

“Kar’?” Her voice was low, soaked in sleep.

“Didn’t mean to wake you, baby,” Kara whispered, but didn’t stop her hand’s wandering journey over her wife’s body.

Lena’s eyes opened lazily. “Liar.”

Kara leaned down to brush her her lips over Lena’s bare shoulder. “Maybe a little.”

There was a lazy, mischievous grin on Lena’s face now—the one that only Kara ever got to see. “We have like…fourty-five minutes before I have to be at that board meeting at L-Corp.”

“Plenty of time,” Kara said while already shifting closer, nudging herself between Lena’s thighs.

Lena sighed dramatically, but her fingers were already curling into Kara’s bicep. “You’ll make me late again.”

“I’ll fly you there—with coffee,” Kara offered, and kissed her—slow and indulgent and filled with all the longing that had built up over the past few weeks.

Underneath the kiss, Lena laughed. “Bribery. Very Luthor of you.”

“Well,” Kara murmured, lips brushing Lena’s, “I took the name. There are standards to uphold now.”

Lena laughed, low and husky, and Kara felt that familiar a spark trailing down her spine. Her hand skimmed slowly along Lena’s thigh now, before gliding deliberately under the soft hem of her silk tank top. Lena’s skin was warm and smooth beneath her fingers, and her breath stuttered when Kara pressed a lingering kiss to the hollow of her throat.

“You’re doing that thing again,” Lena whispered.

“What thing?”

“Trying to distract me into forgiving you for being gone so long.”

Kara’s lips curved into a smile against her skin. “And is it working?”

Lena’s response was a soft hum, and she wrapped her arms around Kara, pulling her down until their foreheads touched.

“I missed you.” Kara said and let her lips trail lower, across Lena’s jaw and to the oh so sensitive spot just below her ear.

Lena’s breath caught and for a heartbeat, all she could do was look at Kara. This strong woman who sometimes carried the weight of the world on her shoulders, and still found time to make her feel like the center of the universe.

“Show me how much,” Lena said softly.

Kara kissed her without hesitation, without holding back. Just heat and closeness and longing, all poured into the slide of their mouths and the press of their bodies. She shifted further, easing Lena fully onto her back and let their legs tangle beneath those expensive Egyptian sheets Lena insisted on buying. Her hand cupped Lena’s perfect jaw, thumb brushing over the softness of her cheekbone, and she kissed her again, slower this time. Purposeful.

Lena’s fingers pressed into Kara’s neck, holding her there like she couldn’t bear to looose even a few inches of contact.

Kara’s touch roamed lower, reverent. Over Lena’s collarbone, then over her ribs, enjoying the slight hitch in her wife’s breath when her fingertips grazed the underside of her breast. She paused, drawing back just far enough to look at her like she was trying to memorize the sight of Lena beneath her, languid and wanting and so impossibly gorgeous.

“You’re staring, darling,” Lena murmured.

“You’re…perfect, baby,” Kara answered, before she bent her head to kiss a slow trail from shoulder to sternum and over that fluttering heartbeat she could hear so clearly.

Lena sighed, a sound somewhere between relief and hunger. Her hips shifted and Kara followed the movement. She let her hand sliding down, teasing the line of Lena’s thigh, before dipping inward with agonizing patience.

Kara’s fingers found her slick and warm and already trembling.

“God, you’re beautiful like this,” Kara murmured, kissing her way back up to Lena’s mouth as her fingers began to circle in a slow and steady rhythm. She matched her kiss to the movement, deep and lazy. This was all about sensation, no rush, letting Lena fall apart inch by inch.

Lena gasped into her mouth and let her hands run down Kara’s back, gripping her waist as if to ground herself. “Don’t stop,” she whispered, voice shaky and broken in that way Kara secretly loved. “Please don’t stop.”

Kara curled her fingers further and Lena’s whole body arched off the bed, while Kara stifled her moans with her mouth. The tremble of her thighs, the way she clung to Kara as her orgasm crested and crashed—it was all so intimate, so raw. Like letting go and being held at the same time.

And still, Kara didn’t stop.

She shifted again and pushed the sheet aside. She kissed her way down over Lena’s breast, her stomach and over the sharp lines of her hips. Her hands slid beneath the fabric of her wife’s shirt, only to ease it further upward and reveal more skin with every slow kiss. She hooked her fingers into the waistband of Lena’s panties and pulled them down in one unhurried movement.

Then she looked up again and caught Lena’s hazy eyes, pupils blown wide with need and heat—and without breaking the gaze, Kara pressed a kiss between her legs.

Lena moaned and her hips jerked slightly as Kara’s tongue took over where her fingers left off. It was slow, deliberate, until Lena was panting again, whispering Kara’s name like a prayer that echoed off their bedroom walls.

This wasn’t about how quickly she could make her come again.

It was about Lena’s body opening to her, the quiet surrender, the trust.

It was about the way Lena’s fingers threaded through her hair, anchoring her there, and the broken, breathless, “Kara—please—” when she couldn’t take any more.

This, this was about coming home.

When Kara finally crawled back up her body, Lena pulled her into a bruising kiss. Kara’s mouth still tasted of her and her hand slide down between them with practiced ease.

“My turn,” Lena whispered against Kara’s lips. She flipped them over gently, so Kara was beneath her. Already breathless and grinning and gorgeous.

But then, Kara stilled.

Her head tilted slightly toward the door and a small crease formed between her brows.

Lena drew back just enough to see her face. “What’s wrong, darling?”

Kara didn’t answer right away. Her gaze unfocused and she stretched her hearing beyond the walls of their bedroom. Before she could speak, a small, delighted voice rang out from the living room—a bit muffled to Lena, but crystal-clear to Kara:

“S’noouw!”

Another tiny gasp. Then, joyfully, “S’nooouw! Mamas, wook! Wook, it snouw!”

Lena’s heart clenched in that achingly full, familiar way. She let her forehead drop gently to Kara’s shoulder, her laughter all breath and warmth.

“He’s up already?”

Kara smiled, her eyes flickering as she turned her gaze toward the far wall. Her vision slipped through plaster, wood and brick, into the living room—and she couldn’t help the soft laugh that bubbled up in her throat.

“He’s at the window,” she whispered, wonder and amusement tangled in her voice. “His whole face is smushed against the glass—like, full nose-print. He’s missing one sock, and he’s got bed hair that looks… honestly kind of heroic.”

“He’s whispering to the snow like it’s some ancient secret only he knows.” She looked back at Lena, eyes glowing. “Lion’s on the ground, of course, totally abandoned.”

Lena smiled into Kara’s neck. “Always drops the lion when he gets excited.”

They lay there for a moment, tangled and warm, letting the sound of their son’s wonder float softly through the quiet.

Then Kara kissed Lena’s temple and whispered, “I’ve got this.”

She eased out from under Lena, moving with that careful, deliberate quiet only a mother or a superhero could manage. She pulled on her soft black yoga pants and one of Lena’s MIT sweaters—the cream one that hung long and loose on her frame, sleeves too long even for her. She ran a hand through her tousled hair and padded barefoot to the door. She paused just long enough to glance back at Lena.

Her dark hair was a mess. Her lips kiss-swollen. Her eyes glowing.

Kara turned, walked back to the bed, and leaned down—just far enough to press a feather-light, lingering kiss to Lena’s lips. An unhurried, stolen thing. Not full of heat, not urgent. Just full of them.

“I love you,” she said softly—words that had burned a hole in her chest for weeks, unsaid but constant, waiting for the moment they could finally land where they belonged.

Lena’s breath caught.

The words wrapped around her like warmth after a long winter. She knew Kara loved her—of course she did—but hearing it now, after so many weeks apart, in this quiet after closeness, after skin and trust and breath shared—it unraveled her. Softly. Completely.

She reached out, let her fingertips brush over Kara’s wrist, feeling the warmth of that kryptonian skin. “I love you too,” she whispered, voice thick with everything they hadn’t said. “So much.”

Kara leaned in and pressed one last gentle, unhurried kiss to the corner of her mouth—quiet and full of promise.

Then she smiled, and finally slipped out of the room—into the golden hush of morning, toward the sound of their two year old son whispering joy into the falling snow.

1. Short, choppy sentences

Excellent for creating tension, urgency, or drama because they speed up the pacing and convey intense emotion.

She said no. I didn’t listen. I should have.

2. Long, flowing sentences

These are great for descriptions, adding detail, and explanations. They can create an intellectual or reflective vibe—or even a dreamy one. You can also use them to evoke a sense of being overwhelmed. They slow the pacing, add complexity, and help build tension. But once you're in the thick of a tense moment, it's often better to switch back to short sentences to keep the energy up.

As the sun dipped behind the horizon, casting a golden sheen across the cracked pavement, she stood there, unsure of what she was waiting for—only that something, anything, had to change.

3. Fragmented sentences

These give off a casual, stylized, and emotional tone. They're perfect for internal monologue and mimicking the way we actually think or speak.

Not the way I planned. Not even close. But here we are.

4. Repetitive structure

They add drama, rhythm, and emotional intensity. It's a powerful stylistic tool that can drive a point home.

She wanted peace. She wanted quiet. She wanted to forget.

5. Inverted or unusual word order

If you're aiming for a formal, archaic, or poetic tone, this structure will get you there.

Gone was the light from his eyes.

6. Interruptions (em dashes or parentheses)

If you're going for a conversational, conflicted, or stream-of-consciousness vibe—even something humorous if used right—interruptions are your friend. They mimic how we speak and think in real time.

I was going to tell her—God, I really was—but I couldn’t.

7. Questions

Questions are fantastic for showing uncertainty, anxiety, or inner conflict. They can also give off a philosophical tone and invite reflection from both the character and the reader.

A habit that would have killed her eventually, as it had her father. One might say that Lex had saved her life with that kindness.

She had repaid him by killing him for the sake of someone who wouldn’t tell Lena her real name. It was as bitter in her mouth as the hint of vomit she tasted. Has she thrown up?

She was at least in her own bed, so she made it home last night. The best thing for a hangover, she found, was a day in Egyptian cotton sheets and some cranberry juice and Tylenol. She would feign illness and tell Jess she needed a day or two and reaffirm herself. She couldn’t let the monkey climb on her back.

(the bottle and a half of Balvenie single malt told her the monkey was halfway aboard, digging grubby nails into her flesh to make handholds)

There was, however, an oddity. Lena did not own a red blanket, and she was gradually beginning to realize that she was was not lying on Egyptian cotton sheets, but a threadbare set of plain ol’ flannel ones, warm and cozy.

(what the fuck did I do)

Visions of scandal flashed in her mind. Paparazzi waiting outside. Lurid TMZ articles about Lena Luthor’s drunken hookup. Stock prices taking a hit. A male CEO could fuck cocktail waitresses from here to Sunday and no one cared, but if Lena were branded a slut she’d be taken that much less seriously.

The world seemed to tilt, lazily throb around her.

No, wait, that wasn’t the world, that was someone breathing. Lena’s head lay not on a pillow but on a soft, relaxed bicep; the owner’s arm lay draped across the bed just so, hand hanging relaxed off the edge. The fingers were long and slender but there were veins on the back of the hand and zigzagging up the arm.

The motion she felt was breathing, the chest of her bedmate pressing lightly against her as she breathed. It had to be a she, Lena thought, because she felt the telltale

(delightful)

sensation of breasts pressed to her back, and whoever they belonged to was either cold or having a good dream.

Dimly, she became aware of yet more details. A heavy arm lay draped across her waist, curled protectively around her body, as though reaching for her breasts but not quite making it. Powerfully muscled thighs were tucked against her own, warm and silky, and soft breaths tickled across the back of her neck.

Lena swallowed hard. She was beginning to apprehend where she was and who she was spooning with. It was confirmed when she looked down and realized that she was not in her own clothes but wearing a long Midvale High sweatshirt and only a pair of underwear beneath it.

Fuck. Fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck!

(fuck!)

She must have stirred enough to wake Kara finally, because she shifted behind Lena and her body tensed slightly as she came around.

Blearily, Kara said, “Are you okay, baby? Do you need me to get something for you?”

Baby? Baby?

The red blanket wasn’t a blanket. It was her damned cape.

“Kara,” Lena rasped, “you better have a good fucking explanation for why I’m in your bed wearing your clothes and I can’t remember anything after leaving work yesterday.”

Kara let out a pained sigh, and there was defeat in her voice, a deep sadness that was more than regret. When Lena was a little girl she remembered a parish priest say Hell was not a lake of fire but the absence of hope, the absence of God’s light and grace.

Kara’s voice sounded like hell.

“Oh,” she said.

Lena tensed, a bone deep remorse creeping through her like a phantom, some unpleasant thing not just under her skin but borrowed into the deepest parts of her.

“Why am I here?”

“Best I can figure, you went for a few drinks after work, and got really sloshed. You ah,” Kara said, “you called me.”

“I called you?”

“Yeah.”

“What the hell for?”

“You were getting sick. You weren’t sure if you just had too much or someone… you said you were alone and you weren’t watching your drink, and you called me to come get you. So I did.”

There was a pause. Kara licked your lips.

“Alex has the glass you were drinking from- the bartender didn’t argue with Supergirl about keeping it.”

“Oh my God,” Lena blurted. “Oh Christ, are you telling me a whole bar full of people saw Supergirl land and carry off Lena Luthor?”

Her head was pounding now. She moaned and rubbed at her temples.

“I don’t think anyone will say anything. The DEO locked the place down, they’re checking security footage. Alex thinks whoever did this was targeting you specifically.”

“None of that explains why I’m in your bed and where my clothes went.”

Kara paused again. “I wanted you to be safe. I brought you back and put you in bed, fully clothed I might add, and I tried to take the couch, but I woke up to you climbing on top of me with no shirt on.”

A heavy silence hung in the air.

“Oh Christ. We didn’t… did we…”

Kara swallowed hard. “No. I would never. Ever. Do that to you. I know I’ve hurt you a lot and I deserve your anger but that was cruel, Lena. I would die before I hurt you again.”

Lena let out a slow breath. The weight of the cape spread across them felt suffocating. Kara, perhaps unconsciously, held her a little tighter.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean it like that.”

Kara sighed. “The only way I could get you to calm down was to climb in bed with you. You went to sleep eventually. What’s the expression? Dead to the world.”

“There’s something you’re not telling me.”

“I told you how sorry I am. I apologized again.”

“How did I take it?”

Kara shrugged. “You didn’t say anything, you just cried until you fell asleep.”

Lena was still.

“Tell me what you said.”

“Lena-“

“You have an eidetic memory, Kara. Tell me what you said.”

Kara slowly pulled in a long breath. She held it for a moment.

“I’m sorry,” said Kara. “I’m so fucking sorry I don’t know what to do with it, I’m so sorry that it’s too big, it’s filling me up and crushing me from the inside. I’m sorry I didn’t tell you who I was, because you deserved to know. You’ve saved my life. I know I was shitty about the kryptonite thing and that I used my suit as an excuse to vent my frustration with you without risking our friendship. I was wrong to do that. I was wrong to keep you at arms length, but it felt like the only way I could keep you at all.”

Lena said nothing.

“I’m a coward. I’m such a coward. I was so scared of losing you. I knew I’d messed up, fucked up, and I’d ruined us. I knew you deserved the truth, that you deserved to feel angry, that you deserved the right to make your own choice and end our friendship on your own terms, but I couldn’t do it. I would have done anything to keep you another day, another hour, another minute… just one more second so I could burn your smile and your eyes into my memory, because a thousand years from now I’ll never be able to forget how deeply in love with you I was and how I was too bound up by Kryptonian tradition and fear to do anything about it.”

“Oh,” said Lena.

“We could have been great,” said Kara.

Lena didn’t answer. She didn’t move to get out of the bed and Kara didn’t pull away. They lay there, frozen, in this halfway space between confession and admission, lying in a bed of their on denial and fear, the tension, the potential, thrumming between them like a circuit almost closed.

“I love you, Lena. I love you so much, I didn’t know I could. I didn’t think that after everything I’ve lost there was enough love left for anyone. Sometimes I wonder if I even knew what love was, because I sure didn’t know what I was feeling for you. Just that it was consuming me.”

“Kara,” Lena whispered, choking back the tide of emotion lurching in her chest. “I don’t know what the hell to say. I just don’t.”

Kara lifted her hand from the edge of the bed and hugged her tightly.

“If you want me to take you home I will. If you want me to disappear I will. You’ll never have to see me again if you don’t want to, but… please, Lena. Please. Give me a chance and I will make it my life’s work to make it up to you. Hurting you was the worst, most vile, most cruel thing I’ve ever done. If I can’t make amends I don’t deserve to wear that crest.”

A beat of silence.

“You decide,” said Kara. “It’s your right.”

“Kara,” said Lena. “I hurt you, too. You had reasons to doubt me. I let Lex live in my heart, I secretly made the only weapon that can harm you, I had an enemy that almost killed your chained in my lab and didn’t say a word.”

“You once asked me my real name. It’s Kara Zor-El Danvers.”

Lena pressed her eyes shut. “Would you have ever told me?”

“I don’t know,” said Kara. “If I’m going to do this right I can’t lie to you. The truth is I don’t know. Have you ever had a good dream?”

“Not many,” Lena confessed.

“Ever have one of those ones that comes in the morning, just when you’re waking… it’s already starting to fade but you cling to it, fight to get back to sleep, desperately try to keep the dream alive, but no matter what you do, it slips through your fingers?”

“Yeah,” said Lena, in a thick voice. “I don’t know if I forgive but I think I understand.”

After a silent pause she said, “can I turn over?”

Kara nodded.

Lena shifted in the bed, turning in place without moving- without leaving Kara’s arms. As she settled she naturally pressed into Kara’s body.

Slowly, tentatively, as if reaching for a skittish thing that might flee too sudden a movement, Kara Danvers cupped Lena Luthor’s hand with her cheek.

“I don’t know what to think, Kara.”

“Forget thinking. What do you feel?”

Lena felt the warmth of her hand, the softness of her palms and just a hint of callous on her fingers, making a light, oh so light sensation of scratching on her cheek.

Raising her own hand, Lena pressed it to Kara’s and held her there, nuzzling her cheek into the touch. Her hand almost seemed to move on its own and she looped her arms around Kara’s neck. She came in close, eyes constantly darting to Kara’s soft lips. Kara pulled her in by the hips.

The world was utterly still, contracted to the center of Kara’s bed. Nothing else even seemed to exist outside of it.

“Is this okay?” Lena murmured.

“Yes.”

It was impossible to say who kissed who, really. They kissed one another, tenderly at first. The caress of her lips, a light teasing of tongue ready to burst into more- it all felt so natural, so right, that Lena for the life of her couldn’t figure out what had taken so long.

“Kara,” Lena said, breathless. “Did you call me ‘baby’ earlier?”

“Yeah, I kinda did.”

“My head is pounding and I’m parched and I should probably eat.”