Supergirl Defender Of Love

Kara's mornings had settled into a comfortable rhythm. Wake up, absorb the sun's warmth, feel like a goddess, and wander into the kitchen to find Natasha already stationed there like a lethal housewife. It had become routine. Domestic. And Kara was starting to realize she liked it—a lot.

This morning was no different. Kara stretched lazily, feeling her body hum with power. She tossed on a loose tank top and shorts, her toned midriff on display, and wandered into the kitchen. Natasha was already there, wearing her usual off-duty assassin look—black tank top, jeans, hair tied back loosely, sipping coffee while flipping through mission reports.

"You really do everything around here," Kara said, leaning against the counter with a smirk. "Cooking, cleaning, scaring off weirdos… Should I be paying you, or should I just start dating you?"

Natasha choked slightly on her coffee, covering it with a cough. Her eyes flicked up, meeting Kara's playful gaze, but there was something different this time—something vulnerable beneath that usual calm, lethal exterior.

"It's my job to protect you," Natasha said smoothly, but her voice wavered just a little.

Kara stepped closer, brushing her fingers against Natasha's hand as she reached for her coffee mug. Their fingertips lingered longer than necessary. Natasha's breath hitched.

"You sure it's just a job?" Kara teased, voice softer now—curious, testing the waters.

Natasha opened her mouth to respond, but no words came out. She wasn't prepared for this shift—for Kara to actually acknowledge the tension that had been building between them for weeks.

Kara leaned in suddenly, closing the small gap between them, and pressed a soft, fleeting kiss against Natasha's lips. It was gentle, almost playful, but deliberate. Her lips were warm, and Natasha froze—eyes wide, heart racing.

The kiss lasted only a second, but it changed everything.

Kara pulled back with a smirk, acting like it was nothing. "Thanks for breakfast," she said casually, lifting the coffee mug.

Natasha was speechless. Her mind was blank except for the sensation of Kara's lips—soft, perfect, everything she'd imagined and more. Her face flushed, her cool exterior momentarily shattered.

"I—I need to… check something," Natasha stammered, her voice cracking slightly.

Without waiting for a response, she turned and hurried toward the guest room—her room now, though neither of them had officially acknowledged it. She closed the door behind her, leaning against it, heart pounding in her chest.

She sat on the edge of the bed, trying to steady her breathing, but the heat was unbearable—the kiss replaying over and over in her mind. Her hand trembled as it slid down her stomach, slipping under the waistband of her jeans.

Moments later, Kara, still sipping her coffee, heard the faintest muffled sounds coming from behind Natasha's door. Her enhanced hearing caught every subtle breath, every shift of fabric, every stifled moan.

Kara's eyes widened slightly, her face flushing red.

"Oh… wow," she muttered under her breath.

She set her mug down, staring at the counter, pretending not to hear anything. But her lips curled into a small, amused smile.

After several minutes, Natasha emerged, looking composed but slightly flushed. She avoided eye contact, heading straight back to the kitchen like nothing happened.

"You good?" Kara asked, hiding her grin.

"Yeah… just had to check something," Natasha said, voice clipped.

Kara didn't press. She liked having this power over her.

"You basically live here now, you know," Kara said, leaning back in her chair.

Natasha shrugged. "Security."

Kara laughed. "Sure… let's call it that."

The tension hung in the air, but it wasn't uncomfortable. It was charged—like they were both waiting for the other to make the next move.

Later that day, Kara was out for a walk near her guesthouse, enjoying the sun. She liked getting out—it reminded her she was still free, even if Natasha followed her like a silent shadow. She knew Natasha was nearby, always watching, always protecting. And honestly, it made her feel… cared for.

"Hey, Kara!"

She turned to see Harry Osborn, all smiles and casual charm. He approached with that confident ease that came with being rich and handsome, but there was nervousness in his eyes—probably from the unspoken threat that was Natasha.

"Harry," Kara greeted with a friendly smile.

"I know I've been pushing this, but… I meant what I said. Dinner. Just us. No guards. No… security personnel looming in the background."

Kara chuckled. "You're brave."

"I like you," Harry said, stepping a little closer. "I just want to get to know you."

Before Kara could respond, Natasha appeared like a shadow materializing out of thin air.

"Problem?" Natasha's voice was smooth but carried an edge.

Harry stepped back instinctively, hands raised. "No problem. Just talking."

Natasha's eyes didn't leave his. "Walk away."

Kara, amused, decided not to intervene. "See you later, Harry."

She walked off, knowing Natasha would handle the rest.

Once Kara was out of sight, Natasha grabbed Harry's arm, dragging him into a narrow alley. Before he could protest, she pushed him against the brick wall, her gun already pressed firmly to his temple.

His breathing hitched, eyes wide with fear.

"You're going to listen very carefully," Natasha whispered, her voice colder than he'd ever heard. "This is the last time you speak to her. You look at her, you text her, you breathe near her—you disappear. Permanently. Understand?"

Harry nodded frantically, words failing him.

"Say it."

"I—I understand!"

Natasha held the pressure for an extra second before pulling back. Harry stumbled away, pale and visibly shaken. He didn't look back.

Natasha watched him flee. Her heart was still racing, but this time, it wasn't adrenaline—it was Kara. That kiss. That touch. She needed more. But she had to play it right. Control. Security. She'd protect Kara first. Then… maybe more.

That evening, Kara noticed the shift immediately. Harry had stopped texting. When she ran into him later during a casual gathering with Gwen and Peter, he was polite but distant—eyes flicking nervously toward Natasha whenever she was nearby.

Later that night, back at the guesthouse, Kara brought it up.

"Hey, Natasha… did you scare off Harry?"

Natasha, sitting at the kitchen table with her coffee, smirked faintly. "Handled it."

Kara raised an eyebrow, amused but not surprised. "You're scary sometimes, you know that?"

Natasha shrugged. "Security protocol."

Kara leaned in, brushing her hand along Natasha's arm. "Well… thanks. I like having you around too."

Natasha's heart skipped, but she kept her face neutral. "Anytime."

As the night settled in, Natasha found herself back in her room, staring at the ceiling. Her hand drifted down again, but this time, she whispered Kara's name under her breath.

Outside, Kara sat on the couch, smirking to herself as she heard every sound.

Marvel Earth was perfect.

And so was this the best is yet to come.

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