Supergirl Defender Of Love

Natasha Romanoff was not prone to emotional weakness.

She was the Black Widow. A master spy. A killer wrapped in silk. She had survived torture, betrayal, and more political coups than most world leaders could name.

So why the hell was she googling S.H.I.E.L.D.'s internal snack delivery protocols for a Kryptonian?

Her fingers hovered over her keyboard as the image replayed in her mind—that rookie female agent bringing Kara pizza—and worse, Kara's delighted smile in response.

Natasha clenched her jaw.

That was supposed to be me.

Her rational mind screamed that this was ridiculous—this was an extraterrestrial powerhouse they were monitoring, not her girlfriend. She wasn't supposed to be this invested.

And yet… she was.

Because Kara was different.

Not just powerful—magnetic. When Kara smiled, it was like she had punched Natasha's heart with the same force she had used to crater Times Square.

Natasha closed the search tab with a sharp click.

No. She wasn't about to let some blushing rookie steal her role as Kara's handler.

Kara was hers.

Her boots clicked with purpose as she made her way back toward the containment area—though she had started thinking of it as "Kara's room".

Each step helped restore some of her usual icy composure, but underneath, the possessive heat hadn't faded.

When she passed the female agent from before—the pizza one—Natasha's eyes narrowed.

The agent looked up, nervous. "Oh, Agent Romanoff—"

"Enjoying your work?" Natasha's tone was casual, but the danger was clear.

The agent stiffened. "Y-yes, ma'am. I was just asked to—"

Natasha stepped closer, voice dropping.

"You won't be asked again. I'll handle all future deliveries."

The agent's face flushed bright red—part embarrassment, part fear.

"Understood."

Natasha held eye contact for a beat too long before walking past, victorious.

Inside the containment room, Kara Zor-El was busy conducting "science experiments".

Namely, teleporting slices of leftover pizza across the room into her mouth.

Each successful blink of the slice was accompanied by an exaggerated fist pump.

"Teleportation… check. Next up, heat vision grilled cheese."

She considered whether laser-toasting bread was feasible when the door slid open.

Natasha entered, all sharp lines and dangerous beauty.

Kara's eyes lit up. "Oh hey, Pizza Queen! Back for round two?"

Natasha's face remained neutral, but her heart skipped a beat at the greeting.

God, this woman was dangerous.

"I'm here for a follow-up," Natasha said smoothly, forcing down the blush threatening her cheeks.

"Follow-up? Is this about the pizza? Because I swear, it teleported itself into my mouth."

Natasha snorted despite herself. "Don't push it."

Kara grinned, stretching lazily on the cot. "So, what's the official S.H.I.E.L.D. stance on pizza theft? Asking for a friend."

Natasha sat across from Kara, trying to project the cool professionalism of a S.H.I.E.L.D. agent. But Kara was too relaxed, too charming—lounging like she owned the place, her blonde hair catching the sterile light just right.

"So," Natasha began, focusing, "Any changes? Powers? Side effects from the Kryptonite?"

Kara tapped her chin, pretending to think deeply. "Well, teleportation's coming along. Haven't phased my face off yet—win. Strength's back to 'crush a tank casually' levels. Heat vision's simmering. No x-ray vision yet, though. Bummer."

Natasha raised an eyebrow. "Why a bummer?"

Kara smirked. "I was hoping to see if that pizza agent was wearing polka dots or lace under that uniform."

Natasha froze.

Kara noticed.

"Oh. Someone's jealous," Kara teased, voice dropping into a playful purr.

Natasha bristled, trying to cover it. "I don't—"

"You totally are."

Natasha tried to redirect. "S.H.I.E.L.D. doesn't condone flirting with extraterrestrial assets."

Kara leaned in slightly. "But you're not S.H.I.E.L.D. right now, are you? You're Natasha."

Natasha's heart raced. She hated that Kara was right.

And loved it just as much.

To defuse the moment, Kara decided to show off.

She locked eyes with Natasha, holding out her hand as if casting a spell.

Natasha frowned. "What are you—"

POP.

A candy bar from the vending machine appeared in Natasha's palm.

Natasha blinked.

Kara grinned. "Boom. Dessert sorcery."

Natasha shook her head, trying not to smile. "You're getting cocky."

Kara leaned back, grinning like she owned the universe.

"You like it."

Natasha did like it.

Too much.

Natasha shifted the conversation back to "health checks"—mostly as an excuse to touch her.

She reached for Kara's wrist, pretending to check her pulse.

Their skin touched.

Natasha's breath hitched.

Kara's was smooth, warm… strong.

Her fingers lingered a second too long.

Kara noticed.

"Oh wow. Holding hands already? Natasha, we're moving fast."

Natasha jerked her hand back like she'd touched lava. "Standard procedure."

Kara winked. "Sure it is."

Natasha's pulse was racing.

Natasha stood quickly, needing distance.

She made a decision:

No more rookie agents. No more blushing interns.

She would be the only one dealing with Kara.

If Kara needed anything, Natasha would provide it.

That was her role.

And no one else's.

Unbeknownst to either of them, Wanda Maximoff watched from a nearby rooftop, her eyes glowing faintly red.

She had been tracking Kara's energy for hours—but now, she saw the spider.

Natasha.

Too close.

Touching her.

Wanda's lips curled into a slight snarl.

"You think you can claim her?"

Her chaos magic flared around her fingers—briefly considering burning Natasha away—but she stopped.

Not yet.

There was pleasure in the hunt.

And Wanda would not lose.

Later, alone in her room, Kara leaned back on her cot.

She felt it now—the tension around her.

The way Natasha looked at her.

The weird energy lingering on the edges of her senses—something dark, powerful… and female.

Kara tapped her chin, amused.

"I swear… it's like two hot women are about to start a war over me."

She grabbed another slice of pizza, grinning.

"This universe is amazing."

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