Supergirl Defender Of Love

Natasha Romanoff moved like a ghost through the darkened corridors of a safe house on the outskirts of Manhattan, her every step calculated, silent. This wasn't an official S.H.I.E.L.D. meeting. It wasn't a mission briefing or an operation log. It was something far more personal—the next step in shaping Kara's future.

Gwen Stacy was already waiting for her, perched on the armrest of a couch, her golden hair cascading over her shoulders, her legs crossed. The air of casual ease was a front—her body was tense, her fingers drumming lightly against her thigh. She had come because Natasha had asked, but she didn't trust what was happening.

"Let's skip the pleasantries," Gwen said, her voice edged with suspicion. "What's this about?"

Natasha stepped forward, her expression unreadable, her voice smooth and deliberate. "It's about Kara. About making sure she stays safe, untouched, and protected."

Gwen tilted her head slightly, eyes narrowing. "She already is. We're doing a fine job on our own."

Natasha let out a small, humorless laugh. "Are we? You and I both know she attracts problems like a flame draws moths. And I've spent too much time handling those problems one by one. That's not sustainable."

Gwen's jaw tightened, but she didn't speak.

Natasha took another step closer, lowering her voice. "I'm not just playing bodyguard anymore, Gwen. I'm making sure there's nothing left in the world that can even try to come between us and Kara. I've already begun restructuring S.H.I.E.L.D.—removing variables, cutting out threats before they appear."

Gwen scoffed. "You mean you're taking control."

Natasha met her gaze evenly. "Yes."

Gwen's lips pressed into a thin line. She hated admitting it, but Natasha had a point. She had felt it too—the endless cycle of dealing with people who thought they could touch Kara, influence her, take her away.

"And you want me to… what? Join your little coup?" Gwen asked, arms crossing.

Natasha smirked. "I want you to help shape the world around her. Think about it, Gwen. No more men whispering in her ear, no more distractions, no more threats. Just us, ensuring she has exactly what she needs, always."

Gwen inhaled sharply, considering it. There was a certain twisted appeal to what Natasha was saying. Control wasn't just about protecting Kara—it was about ensuring she belonged to them.

"And what if I say no?" Gwen tested.

Natasha's smirk didn't waver. "You won't."

Silence stretched between them before Gwen sighed, running a hand through her hair. "Fine. But if you start treating me like one of your S.H.I.E.L.D. pawns, I'll snap your neck."

Natasha chuckled, a hint of amusement in her eyes. "Duly noted."

For the first time that night, Gwen relaxed slightly. She still didn't like how Natasha operated, but she understood it. And more importantly, she agreed with it.

Then Natasha's expression darkened. "There's one more issue. Wanda."

Gwen's shoulders stiffened. "Absolutely not."

Natasha expected the reaction. She leaned against the wall, arms crossed. "She's already circling Kara. You know it. I know it. We can either bring her in or fight her off constantly."

"She's unstable," Gwen hissed.

Natasha smirked. "So are we."

Gwen clenched her fists. "She's different."

"She's necessary."

Gwen's jaw clenched so tight Natasha swore she could hear her teeth grinding.

"Do you really want to deal with her outside of our control?" Natasha asked. "If we don't handle her now, she'll eventually become a problem we can't ignore. She's powerful, Gwen. Too powerful."

Gwen exhaled sharply through her nose. "And if she doesn't play along?"

Natasha shrugged. "Then we deal with it."

Gwen didn't like it. But after a long pause, she nodded. "Fine. We bring her in."

Natasha smiled slightly. "Good."

With Gwen on board, the next phase of the plan could begin. Wanda was next.

Back at the guesthouse, Kara lounged on the couch, lazily flipping through her phone. She had grown far too used to Natasha's presence—her quiet efficiency, the way she always seemed to handle everything before Kara even realized it needed handling.

When Natasha finally returned, slipping through the door like she hadn't just been orchestrating a power grab, Kara didn't look up right away.

"Busy day?" Kara asked.

Natasha exhaled softly, tossing her jacket onto the counter. "You could say that."

Kara smirked, setting her phone down and stretching, her arms above her head, her toned stomach briefly exposed beneath her loose shirt.

Natasha swallowed hard.

Kara noticed. And she liked that Natasha noticed.

"You always take care of everything, huh?" Kara mused, tilting her head, giving Natasha a slow once-over.

Natasha met her gaze, her voice lower than before. "I have to."

Kara reached out casually, brushing her fingers over Natasha's forearm. The touch was so light, so fleeting, but it sent a shockwave through Natasha's entire body.

"You don't have to," Kara murmured. "You just want to."

Natasha's breath caught for half a second, but her expression remained neutral. "Maybe."

Kara grinned, leaning in slightly. "You like being here. With me."

Natasha didn't answer. She couldn't.

Kara chuckled softly, brushing past her toward the kitchen, completely unaware of the absolute turmoil she had left Natasha in.

Natasha gripped the counter, exhaling sharply, willing herself to calm down. But Kara was pushing her. Hard.

And one day, Natasha wouldn't be able to hold back.

Elsewhere in the city, Norman Osborn sat in the dark, staring at the mask before him.

The Goblin's voice whispered in his ear.

"You see them. The Kryptonian. The spider. They're in the way."

Norman gripped the edges of his chair, his breathing ragged.

"They'll ruin everything unless you stop them."

His hands trembled.

Then they stopped.

His lips curled into a slow, twisted smile.

"Then I'll stop them."

The Green Goblin had made his decision.

Tomorrow, the Queensboro Bridge would burn.

Natasha sat alone that night, staring at her phone.

A new message blinked on her screen.

Wanda Maximoff: "I know you're looking for me. You should be careful."

Natasha smirked. She loved a challenge.

She typed back.

Natasha Romanoff: "Let's talk."

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