Supergirl Defender Of Love

The door clicked shut behind Natasha Romanoff, but the sound felt louder in her mind—like a gunshot marking the start of something dangerous.

Her boots echoed down the sterile S.H.I.E.L.D. hallway as she walked, posture sharp, face unreadable. To anyone watching, she was the picture of calm, the Black Widow—deadly, professional, untouchable.

Inside?

Absolute chaos.

What the hell was that?

Natasha's pulse was still racing. Her fingers twitched at her sides, like they were trying to remember the sensation of pulling her zipper down in front of Kara.

In front of a prisoner.

An alien prisoner.

A hot alien prisoner.

Her face burned. She forced herself to breathe slow and steady. Control. She was all about control. That's what made her the best. She didn't get rattled. She didn't get distracted.

And yet.

That smile… those eyes… that body—DAMN IT.

She stopped at a reflective window, glaring at her own flushed reflection. Her heart was hammering. Her skin still felt warm, her mind replaying Kara's voice, that smug little "tease" comment.

Natasha growled under her breath, clenching her jaw. "Get it together, Romanoff."

Her gaze hardened, but deep down, there was a dangerous thought.

I liked it.

Her fingers lingered on her zipper—almost unconsciously—before she yanked her hand away like it was on fire.

Nope. Focus.

She started walking again, this time faster, trying to drown out the thoughts swirling in her head. But the more she tried to push Kara out of her mind, the more that smirk crept back in.

She hated that.

She loved that.

Natasha slipped into the observation room next door. The monitors displayed Kara sitting in the interrogation room, now alone, looking relaxed—almost smug—as she leaned back in her chair.

Natasha folded her arms, watching.

What are you, really?

She replayed the moments in her head. The flush. The heat. The way she had leaned in like Kara was a magnet and she was made of iron. That wasn't normal. That wasn't her.

Natasha prided herself on being immune to seduction. She'd used it as a weapon her whole life, but never had it worked on her.

Until now.

And it made her furious.

And curious.

She leaned in closer to the monitor, eyes narrowing.

Kara was smiling to herself—like she knew something. Like she had won something.

Natasha gritted her teeth.

"Oh, you think you're cute," she muttered under her breath.

Kara's smirk on the screen deepened, as if she had heard.

Natasha's heart skipped. She scowled.

Kara stretched her arms above her head, feeling her muscles loosen up. The ache from the Kryptonite was fading faster now, her body soaking in this universe's sun like a sponge.

But there was something… extra.

Her powers were shifting—evolving. She could feel it in her bones. Her cells were buzzing with an energy she hadn't felt before. It was like her body was rewriting itself, adapting to this universe's rules.

And then there was the other thing.

Natasha.

Kara had noticed the looks. The flush. The zipper incident.

That wasn't normal.

Back on her Earth, sure, she had admirers. Men, women, aliens—being a flying blonde powerhouse in a skirt attracted attention. But this?

This felt like a force of nature.

Every woman she'd interacted with since crashing here had been… off. Blushing. Stammering. Looking at her like she was the last glass of water in a desert.

Is this what being a celebrity feels like?

She snorted, but it wasn't funny. It was weird.

And a little concerning.

She glanced down at her hands, flexing her fingers.

Was this part of the power shift? The Kryptonite? The sun?

Her biology was adapting, sure—but was it doing more than that?

What if I'm putting something out there… without meaning to?

She sighed, resting her head back against the wall. "Great. I'm not just a space goddess. I'm a space aphrodisiac."

As Kara absentmindedly twisted her wrist inside the handcuffs, she expected to feel resistance—the familiar click of metal.

Instead, her hand… flickered.

For half a second, her fingers seemed to phase out, disappearing from reality. Then—POP—her hand reappeared.

Outside the cuff.

She froze, staring at her now-free hand.

"…What?"

She glanced at the cuff still closed around her wrist—but her hand was out. Like she had blinked through it.

Experimentally, she held up her other hand and focused.

Nothing.

She frowned. Okay, come on…

She focused harder—thinking about her hand being not there—and suddenly, it flickered again.

POP.

Her fingers phased in and out, like a glitch in reality.

Kara stared.

"Wow. I can teleport… That's new."

She grinned. Her first new power. She'd expected the usual Kryptonian upgrades—more strength, heat vision, flight—but this?

This was weird.

And cool.

She sat up straighter, excitement bubbling under her chest.

Her powers were evolving.

And this was just the beginning.

As she played with her new ability, her mind circled back to the other thing—the women.

Natasha.

The guards.

The agent who brought her water.

All of them had been affected.

But… the male agents?

Professional. Unaffected.

Barely looked at her twice.

Kara leaned back in her chair, eyes narrowing.

"This is a girl thing," she muttered.

Whatever was happening to her, it was only influencing women.

She rubbed her face.

"So, what… am I the universe's ultimate lesbian chick magnet now?"

She half-laughed, but it came out nervous.

Because the more she thought about it—the more she realized—it was true.

Back in the observation room, Natasha was still watching.

She saw Kara teleport her hand out of the cuffs.

Her eyes widened—impressed, but also worried.

But then she watched Kara… laughing to herself.

And that smile—the easy, cocky confidence—did something to her chest.

She pressed her lips together, heart racing again.

Her grip on the table tightened.

She needed to be careful.

Because Kara Zor-El?

She was dangerous.

Not just because of her strength.

But because Natasha was starting to like her.

Too much.

And that… scared the hell out of her.

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