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I am light as a Feather, I am stiff as A Board (Pt 1)

Summary: you’ve spent your whole life surrounded by wealth and security, yet never once felt safe. As heiress to a billon dollar empire, everyone sees your value but no one sees you. Your world is full of bodyguards, boardrooms, and people who want something. your father reaches out to Superman. Clark refuses, explaining that you don't need a symbol hovering overhead. You need someone who can stay close. Someone who understands danger before it happens. Someone he trusts. He sends Kara Zor-El.

Warnings: Kara Zor el who doesn’t want the job at first, but takes one look at you, and decides she’ll be the best bodyguard you’ve ever had. Punk rock Kara Zor el, kara who walks half a step behind you, scans every room, and shields you without ever crowding you. Kara who is powerful, but she never uses it to intimidate. She’s present, but never invasive. Kara who builds up the relationship till you can’t deny, you’re in love with supergirl. Reader who thinks too much of herself, she is the end all be all, mistresses of the manor, inheritance of 10 million, spoilt brat reader, entitled reader, Kara “I don’t find that attractive” Zor el, 🔞 18+ content, smut, fire place sex, fingering, spanking, general smut, graphic, and non graphic, cliffhanger ending

Word count: 8.448k (longest Kara fic yet)

The light bounces off the latticed windows in waves-glorious blue waves that climb up the oak walls and hang down the slopes of the finely lit carpet, a carpet you were not allowed to step on with any kind of shoe as a child. Always being talked down to by the maids, some who didn’t know your name, but knew you were the little girl of the master, and therefore held a little bit of power. Just a smidge. You remember first discovering it as a little girl, small and tiny, watching as the maids and butler’s would quit talking and favor doing actual work when you would walk by. The way their eyes would widen, and they’d immediately snap their lips shut and continue with the same mundane task they were given.

People bowed to you, catered to you, feared disappointing you. The governesses all fawned over you, seeing you as a little girl with a father who didn’t quite know what to do, so he left you in the care of others. And maybe that, was your downfall. Because you learned early, that power gave you respect, but never affection. At least affection from who mattered.

It had fascinated you, perplexed you and made your mind spin. Your life was beautiful, you were born at the manor, or so your father says. Your mother was beautiful, the type of woman that made men fall to their knees, lustrous and above all, kind. You never got to meet her, because she soon bled out after birth and left you with your father. You never wanted for anything, ice cream after dinner, sweets snuck in by the maids because you wanted it, jellies and raspberry cordials when you were ill and confined to your bedroom. “The mistress is ill” you’d hear the servant, Beckie her name was, a girl who was just shy of her twenties when she had first employed at the manor. “Goodness, well that means raspberry cordial and jellies and god knows what else-“ you’d hear the cook shout, frantic.

Your father treated you like a mini adult. He’d tie your laces on your shoes too tight, pin ribbons in your hair that pulled, and leave you alone far too long that you began to talk ill of him. Began to see things in a light that made your father look less than perfect. He was never at your recitals, he was never at your piano lessons, and he was never in the room long enough to truly see you. The years went by, and you grew. Grew into a girl with tense shoulders and eyes that held no traces of kindness-though you were capable of it, you were sure, it just lived underneath your skin, like some sort of hidden talent you could possess when needed. You lived at the manor, with its walls that’s screamed of gothic tales, drank wine from glass cups when the servants went to bed, read by candle light and dreamt about leaving the land that trapped you. Suffocated you. You built walls, sharp ones, and sometimes you’d use them like a weapon.

At age 21, you inherited your inheritance. 10 million. It was enough money and power to make you drunk on it, but as soon as it was given, it was taken away. Your father, for once, stepped in and declared the money was only to be used for when he was departed from the world. “You are my only child, let me care for you a while longer” he had stated. And so you agreed, because your father was your father, and love stretched and grew just as you had. Perhaps he felt the distance with which you put yourself. When you ate together you spoke only of the weather, of the business meetings, of things that had no value or substance. You kissed his cheek like he was a stranger, and yet, when he would look at you with eyes that spoke, ‘forgive me’ you couldn’t ever quite let yourself.

You never asked what your father did, sure you were curious, naturally, but you never were able to ask. “Important, vital work” was what one nanny had said when you asked at age ten. There was never any real concrete answer. Governesses came and went, you studied at the manor, ate at the manor, lead conquests across the estate’s grounds with a paper towel rolls and your dog, chuck, at your heels. Till now, at 21, where you would take long walks along the estate, crunching leaves underfoot with a book in your hand. You never feared for your life, at least not truly feared for your life, till one day, when the life you feared for, was not your own.

You had gotten the call on a late Friday afternoon, where you sat hunched over in the drawing room, watching cook sip her tea, her brown oak eyes ghosting over the paper, while you read and sipped wine from a glass. The attack had been made by enemies of your father, was all the police would say. You could still remember the flashing lights as they bounced over the estate walls. A bomb. Cook holding your shoulders tight, too tight. Your father survived, thankfully, miraculously, despite a long stay at hospital. You cared for him through his recovery, thankful you hadn’t lost your only parent. Your father was a wise man, and somewhat cautious. So he put up security measures around the manor, hoping it would suffice.

But when media found out how much you were worth, ten million, and more to come, the threats came in fast. Kidnapping, ransoms, you name it, it was addressed. It not only sent you on edge, but it also made your father struck with worry. And so, he had made a few calls. First to a mister Clark Kent, you knew him as Superman, a friend of your father. He helped him from time to time and would come to the manor for dinner. He was handsome in the generic way, strong jaw, otherworldly eyes, but the pit in your stomach never opened, the butterflies never swindled in your gut. He was a family friend, and so when your father had spoke over dinner one evening, placing his fork and knife down gently, and saying in that kind, yet firm way, like he knew you’d protest, protest this whole idea, “I am hiring a personal bodyguard to watch over you. This person will be well equipped and ready for anything. Sometimes I forget you are not a little girl anymore, but a young woman, a young woman with a bounty on her head”.

Your eyebrows had rose, and so had your chair, your fists meeting the table, “father, I’m not a child, I don’t need someone looking after me. I’ll be going to university next year, I don’t believe I can have bodyguards sitting in on my classes. I am more than capable of looking after myself”. You had stated this through calm teeth and a belly full of wine, usually made you confident. Too confident. Almost invincible.

“This is not a matter of whether you are capable my darling, but of, if you are safe. I have asked Clark if he would take the position-“

Your eyes widened, “Clark?? Clark Kent? Superman? Father-“ you sputtered, “I am sure Superman has far more important things to do like saving the world than looking after one billionaires daughter” you had spoke, eyes made of fire.

Your father chuckled, looking old, his eyes tired, and terrified, something you didn’t quite catch, because you weren’t looking for it. You were selfish in that department.

“You would assume correct. I had lunch with Clark only yesterday where he informed he he would be far too busy. Flattered-he thinks the world of you, but busy nonetheless.”

A victorious grin had spread so far and wide across your face, and you had took a sip of wine, relishing the taste, when your father spoke again, this time like a personal jab, “he did however give me another candidate. One I personally saw too. His cousin. Kara. I had dinner with her yesterday night and she seemed-accepting to the job.”

A girl bodyguard. A woman. Who would be with you all hours of the night. The thought made your cheeks flush, and you put down your wine, “a girl? Clark’s cousin?”

You stood in your father’s office, an office that felt as foreign as a country, because he never stayed in it long to make it truly his. It was just another room in the manor that you saw dusted and cleaned. The edges of the tassels on the carpet were worn, and stitched, like everything was kept from deteriorating. Your father sat at his desk, while you stood, arms folded in a way that made you feel unapproachable. Eyes set firmly. This bodyguard idea was something you found tedious, you didn’t need a bodyguard, you’d be gone soon, but what you didn’t know was, plans had already been made. For you. Around you.

The clock on the mantle, old and ancient, croaked, and you smiled yet again, “see father? She’s late. Why would anyone hire a girl who’s late? It just shows she has no decorum.” You spoke, flashing him a confident smile.

Your father for his part only looked up from his papers for a second, and then shook his head, “you judge so harshly my dear. Sharp words. I’d be careful with those”.

The words do little to persuade you, and so you wander around the room, you hate waiting. Despise it. You get anxious, it reminds you of being a little girl and waiting for your father to come home to tuck you in bed, only for him to never appear.

Hence why you hate being kept waiting.

12:07. Noon. She’s ten minutes late. No one has ever been ten minutes late meeting your father, it’s a sign of respect to be early. Especially to him. And to you. You wonder what could have possibly kept her when you hear the comforting words of the maids, hear the confident steps of shoes on the marble staircases and the door opens.

What meets your eyes makes you almost cackle. Because what on god’s green earth is your father thinking?

The maids step aside, and the girl enters. Her stance is confident, laid back, her eyes hold no fear in meeting face to face with your father, and when her grey eyes meet yours, your stunned to see that she flits right over you, like you don’t matter, when the job description clearly states you, as a person of major significance. It makes your face red, from what emotion, you don’t quite know.

Your father rises from his chair, a great big smile on his lips, “Kara, Kara, I hope your drive up to the manor was pleasant. I do hope I made you feel welcome-“ his voice is soft and fatherly, and you watch as Kara’s lips move in what could be conceived as a smirk, lips up in a calm quirk, she goes to shake his hand, but is met with a hug instead.

Kara flinches, eyes wide like she’s not use to physical affection but then gives in and pats your father’s back with her hand, “hello Alfred. How’s it goes” she states, and your father laughs, cackles, like it was a joke too funny, “it goes very well thank you for asking. Catch any more bad guys?” He mentions, and Kara nods,hands planted safely in her coat, “loads. Trucks full sir” she speaks, with a smirk. Your father chuckles again, “very good, very good indeed” he claps her on the back, which usually sends grown men cascading across the floor but for Kara, it’s a simple nudge, and her feet stay planted across the oak floor.

“I had lunch with Clark just the other day and he spoke so highly of you, and then of course our meeting yesterday night was flawless, I could think of nobody else qualified enough for this specific job. I do hope you’ll find the pay well to your wishes-“ your father begins, he hands Kara a piece of paper, Kara takes it in her fingers with grace, blonde brows raised high when she eyes the number, her lips part in a wide circle, “wow man” she speaks, “I-i don’t know this seems like a bit much. Far too much. I can’t-I can’t possibly-“ she begins.

Your still there, rooted in the same spot, arms folded, eyes firm, taking in this girl in front of you like she’s some sort of alien, which she might as well be, she’s Clark’s cousin, and you try to find some sort of connection. Her jaw is set, thick muscles that move whenever she clenches her teeth, her eyes are a blue grey, different than Clark’s sky blue eyes, and her build is-

“Nonsense! Nonsense! I won’t hear of it. I would pay you more if I could. This job is not not just some run of the mill job Miss Zor El, this is my daughter’s life, and she-means-it’s a job I cannot afford to give to anyone else” your father says with confidence.

Kara watches your father, her grey eyes seeming to look over him, and what she finds seems to make her smile, and then her eyes flit to the other side of the room, and meet you. And it’s like you want to throw up, run, or hide. You’ve never felt this before, a mix of so many emotions, you’re nervous, your heart is beating against its cage, rapid gunfire movements that you will to stop.

You meet her eyes, unafraid, and that seems to make Kara’s lips twitch, it’s such a simple fast action, but it makes your jaw clench, Kara’s hand reaches out, all calm movements, and you watch as her hand is in front of you. Her fingers are lithe, firm, nails perfectly done, attractive in the way they look-

That thought makes you bite your tongue, and before you know what you’re doing, you brush past her, arms folded, shoulders brushing her hand, completely ignoring her hand shake.

You see your father make a face, pinched brows and a tongue that will doubtless chew you out later, he’s about to make some remark when you speak.

You turn on your heels, “you’re late”. Your eyebrows move up in accusations, lips pulling into a taunting, what you hope is an attractive smile. It’s a threat wrapped in a gift box, and there is nothing Kara Zor el adores more than peeling away at gift boxes.

Kara doesn’t react, not in the way you hope she will, not with pinched brows or shoulder movements that display emotion, no, she does not apologize or grovel like millions have before.

“I’m here now”.

You hate the way your stomach flips.

Like she’s won.

And looks good doing it.

You feel like a petulant child, and immediately you turn to face your father, begging, pleading, “I don’t need a babysitter father-“

At that Kara smirks, laughs, and it makes you turn on your heel.

“I’m not here to babysit you” she speaks jaw clenched, but eyes calm, and you wonder how she does that? Can stay in control, because you are anything but patient. Or resemble the word.

“Really?” The words drip off your tongue, honey sweet, barbed wire in saccharine form, and you hate yourself, for saying it this way, but you’re angry, angry at your father, because suddenly now, after you being alive for 21 years does he feel the need to make sure you’re okay. It’s a laugh, a joke. A punchline. The word comes out dripped in distain, “because that’s what it feels like”

Your father sighs, use to your antics, but Kara doesn’t look away, her eyes are zeroing in you in a way that makes you feel self conscious, she’s studying you, not your clothes, although you can see the way her grey eyes flit over your outfit, a smart blouse, short skirt and long socks, her eyes flit over the skirt for a while, like she’s trailing over your legs, and something low pits in your belly, surly she’s not attracted to you-

But then Kara’s eyeing you again, your eyes this time, she’s not seeing your wealth, your jewelry, your hair, she’s seeing you, past your perfect posture, past the tension in your shoulders. The exhaustion underneath your eyes, the little hints that give off your not sleeping. And maybe, you think she sees it-the loneliness you’ve held. For years. Like a constant companion.

It makes you feel something you don’t think you’re capable of.

Kara’s eyes turn firm, her blonde hair is in waves, cascading in tendrils not wildly or unruly, just right, and then she speaks again, this time with a step closer to you, and then when she’s eye level with you, a few inches from your face, she looks you dead in the eye, with a voice so solid, so powerful, so strong, that you can feel another pulse somewhere else entirely.

“I’m here to keep you safe” she says, “wether you think you need it, or not”

You’re never one to back away from a challenge, so you spit her words right back, the same eye contact that feels like electricity, the same careful step in front of her, you quirk a brow, biting your lip, watching as Kara tracks the movement, “you think you can protect me?”

Kara’s expression doesn’t change, she just responds with a resounding, “yes”

It’s not arrogant, nor defensive, but true, in the simplest form.

“She’s the best qualified for the job darling” your father speaks, “clark recommended her personally”

The dig comes from somewhere in your chest, not directed at Kara, at your father, but still it comes out wrong, “Superman sent his understudy?”

Kara’s jaw tighetens, a little scoff falls off her lips, “unbelievable” she utters underneath her breath, but you catch it.

Your turn away again, because her gaze feels like it’s peeling you open, “fine. You’ve got the job. Just-just stay out of my way” you speak, it’s less forced, less cruel.

“I won’t be in your way” she states, “but I won’t leave you alone either”. You freeze, because the words tug at you. Alone. She won’t leave you alone. As in, she won’t leave you. It’s loyalty at its finest, just Kara trying to make a good impression with your father, but the way she eyes you, like she knows your fear. Being alone.

No one had ever said that to you. Not without wanting something. Not without strings attached. Plenty of friends had used you over the years, for the manor, your father’s money.

You swallow, hoping she won’t catch on. Hating the warmth in your chest. Kara falls in line behind you, standing next to you, shoulder to shoulder, you can feel the heat from her frame, can smell her scent, piney and woodsy, with a hint of dirt, and something uniquely alien. Her hands rest at her sides, and she looks out the large latticed window in the office. Nothing but greenery and a fountain that spews over gothic angels. Beautiful.

“Beautiful” she remarks, lips tugging up.

“It’s lonely” the words come out before you can stop them. But Kara hears them, she doesn’t acknowledge them, but she hears them.

Logistics is what follows. Kara sits down at your father’s oak desk, one leg draped over the other, hands laying lazily over one knee, as she eyes the schedule in front of her, she looks so out of place in the posh manor, with her boots and rings on that sit on every finger, which you’ve had trouble not looking at for the past five minutes.

You’re not only angry at your father-you’re angry at yourself. Because Kara is your bodyguard, your protector, and yet, you’d willingly fall into bed with her, so fast you wouldn’t even think about it. You entertain the thought as you sit across from Kara, the perfect heiress, sitting in front of her father’s desk, quiet and still, yet your eyes seem to trace over Kara. Her strong fingers which tap against the wood, her jaw that looks strong, her arms which are hidden beneath her coat, but you bet are just as strong as the rest.

Pleasure is something that you use like a drug. Pleasure in a sense that you always get your way, whatever it be. Ponies as a child, puppies, kittens, even a bird or two, and as a grown woman, well-

You’d never slept with anyone save for your boyfriend, ex boyfriend, Louis Pemberly. You had dated all throughout high school, his father was a tech mogul who worked with your father, and Louis had been a sparky, troublesome boy and you had found that somehow interesting. He made life spontaneous. He’d take you for drives across the city, show you places you’d never seen before. And of course you had slept with him. The experience was not anything to be listed on a yelp review.

You had gained no true pleasure from the experience. It was just Louis on top of you, sweaty skin, his fingers pushing and prodding and entering you like you were some sort of bop it toy. You were dry as could be, his fingers felt like sandpaper, he would brush your clit and then stop, needless to say before he could even get his trousers off you had put a stop to it. Broke up with him right there, in your bed, with some rather cold words. You were just being honest. Honest was brutal.

Louis’s eyebrows had risen, his voice had sputtered, “y-you can’t break up with me!” He had been livid, and you suppose you should have shown some emotion, but you treated him like a shit on your shoe, “you know what you are?” He had growled on his way out, shirt untucked, shoes in his fingers, pointer finger in your face, which made the security team antsy, “you’re a spoilt little girl trapped in a glass box. A gilded cage! And you’ll never be happy! Never!” He had yelled as he was escorted into the halls.

So to say your experience in the sex department were low. But you were just a girl, fragile, not weak, and Kara who sat next to you, signing documents with her hair and her grunge rock coat and that easy smirk as she smiled at your father, was just something you couldn’t wait to toy with.

“Now, the discussion of you’ll be staying here at the manor is something I’d like to discuss next” your father spoke, taking the papers Kara had signed and placing them in a vanilla folder which he gave to a assistance. The files would go down to the tower.

Kara spoke next, “I can stay a few nights of the week. I have some things I need to get done for my health sir. I have to visit yellow suns every other week, to keep my powers and body running smoothly.”

Your body is already running smoothly

The thought made you blush and hide your cheeks, luckily your father took no notice, “of course. On those days I’ll have security take over the manor. Now, onto the matter of your dog”

You watched as Kara’s lips rose into a smile, “krypto”

“Krypto” your father recited, “he’s welcome here. There’s nothing he can break that I can’t buy again. After-all money is money. Just see that he doesn’t eat me out of house and home” the joke landed well and Kara nodded, “of course sir”.

Kara started on a Monday. She arrived at the manor with a t-shirt tucked into her jeans, some rock band you didn’t recognize, jeans, a few rings, and her boots. The coat was no longer in use. You had watched her through your window, pressed up against the window, eyes a bit guilty as they watched Kara stroll into the entrance.

You chose an outfit acceptable for the occasion, a short skirt, though not too short, a blouse with one button open, a necklace that consisted of one pearl that sat just above your cleavage, and your hair done in a neat braid.

Kara herself stood in the main entrance of the Manor, hands in her jean pocket, trying to decide what she made of you. From the minute Clark had told her about you, through a glitchy call on her ship, Kara had been amused. Interested. Clark had described you as, “sweet when you got to know her.” He also spoke about how naive you were to the real world, sheltered, and perhaps spoiled, although Clark did not use the word. Kara had. Repeated it to herself over and over again while she fixed a leaky toilet on her ship, over a small drink she had bought, while she was punching out a few guys, and finally in her head when she had made the meeting with your father.

And when your father had shown her a picture, suddenly the word was gone. Because Kara had met many many beautiful women, had kissed some in bars, flirted, but she had never seen one who looked like you. Jaw that was perfection, eyes that were otherworldly, and posture that made supergirl want to see how messy she could make you. In a professional sense…

So Kara had said yes. Because as much as she hated earth, she was learning to adapt to it, and maybe she wasn’t quite ready to be supergirl to the world yet, so this job was a job that she was sure she was capable of.

The way people treated you was another thing. You were entitled. Rich. Snobby, mean, and cruel. That’s what Kara understood, but yet even as you strode into the main hall, outfit already making Kara dizzy, Kara prayed for help.

“You’re on time. Punctual. That’s the first” you spoke, smiling in a way that was meant to be condescending, but to Kara was plain flirty. Kara gave you a blank stare, “last meeting I was a bit held up on a yellow sun in Bilquis. So forgive me”.

Your eyebrows furrowed, like you were curious, “is Bilquis a planet?” You said this normally, like you were asking a professor about a lesson, something you didn’t know, and Kara was dumbfounded. But she nodded, spoke, “yes. It’s a double sun planet. It has both green and yellow suns. The green will kill me. If I stay too long”

You took it in, storing the information, and then like a flip switched you spoke, “have you eaten breakfast?”

Kara’s eyebrows rose again, and you rolled your eyes at that, walking pass her, and playfully bumping her shoulder, “please, I can be human. I am capable of civilities”

Kara snorted, following behind you, “it wasn’t that. I’m more of a cereal for breakfast type of girl. I don’t really eat large amounts of breakfast”.

You entered the breakfast room, and sat down on an oak chair, to which you pointed to the chair in front of you, and Kara took it.

“So, I assume being my bodyguard you have rules. For me. For you?” It was a simple question, one that Kara entertained as a plate was put in front of her, eggs, gloriously done, bacon, biscuits and white gravy.

“Um-yeah. Yeah. No drinking on duty, which is pointless because I can’t get drunk with alcohol on earth. Um-I don’t think there was much regarding rules for me. Now for you-“ Kara smiled, pointing her fork, “now there’s a whole freakin rulebook”

“You know those exist for you to keep me out of trouble. I’m quite a handful” you spoke, buttering your bread in even strokes.

“Oh I’m understanding that now. But don’t worry. With me you’ll have your hands full” Kara spoke, and then when the hot chocolate arrived, Kara’s eyes widened so much you had to hide a smirk.

You never asked anyone to breakfast.

Kara stood still, eyes widened in an unbelieving motion as you stood at the front of the manor, with a servant holding a few necklaces. One golden, pure gold, another pearls, and another diamond. The way you stood and eyed them, with a hand on your hip, like you were picking which coat to wear, and not which diamond million worth necklace to wear-to university. It boggled Kara’s mind, because you really were a spoilt young woman. In the truest form.

“Any time now. Pretty sure my birthday passed.You know it wouldn’t kill you to pick one in a few seconds right?” Kara spoke, and that made you take one look at her, and then Bridget, who held the box, “oh, I have another box to go through”. You had said it just to watch Kara bite her lip and lean back against the wall, throat in perfect view. Thank you daddy for Kara Zor el.

You leafed through the box, finally finding one, when you took it out of the box Kara’s eyes widened, pink mouth open, “that’s literally the necklace from Titanic” she sputtered, “how did you even get that?”

You shrugged, “I think daddy just had it made for one of my birthday’s”

Kara chuckled, “oh, yeah, yeah, he just had it made like it didn’t cost anything” she shook her head, waving her hand away, “unbelievable”. And then what made it the icing on the cake was you, giving her the necklace and craning your pale neck backward, “a little help?” You had given her eyes that were soft and kind, like a little girl asking for more cake when the limit had been set.

Kara’s cheeks turned red, but still she sighed, took the necklace, the blue marble necklace in hand as she fastened it behind your neck, her fingers lithe as they ghosted over your neck, and suddenly the image of perfect pink lips as they descended down your neck, slowly,Kara’s hand cupping your jaw in her strong fingers, breath hot and warm on your neck, eyes midnight dark, breathing hitching in a way that spoke of liquid desire, made the pit in your stomach open. You imagined Kara’s fingers, trailing down your silk robe-

“There. Now let’s get moving” Kara spoke, and then she was tugging you outside and into the dark vehicle before you could even get the image out of your head. Being manhandled was certainly not what you were use too, and Kara seemed like she didn’t give a rats ass what you were use to, you suppose it was for the necklace stunt you pulled, and you wondered if Kara was the type to give you a few spanks-

“What’s your schedule like on campus? I don’t have a copy” Kara spoke, blue eyes looking up over your schedule of the day, each day you were scheduled for something. Tedious affairs. A lunch buffet for a charity, a gala, classes. Kara had been surprised when she had learned that, she thought you sat around all day and drank wine.

“I’m surprised my father didn’t print one out and staple it to your forehead” you uttered, taking the paper out from the side door where schedules were printed and laminated every morning and handed it to her. Kara took the paper, eyes tracking over the schedule.

“Classes at 8, 9:30 and 11-“ she uttered, eyebrows pinched, “then a charity event at 5. Black tie. Invite only” she read.

You watched Kara, as she sat, not buckled, and then your eyes moved to the glasses that sat atop her head, and immediately sticky fingers were tugging the glasses off and putting them on your eyes, “wow-did you get these from space?” It was your job to be annoying, and spoilt, and kara only sighed like she was amused, putting the page down, “yes actually. I got them from this random space store, like a k-mart-“ she uttered, “just give them back”. When you didn’t, and stuck your tongue out, followed by, “come get them yourself” that’s when Kara lost it.

She immediately grabbed you with a force so strong, her hands placing your hips down on the seat,your back to the ground seats, her hips straddling you, and pressing down so hard, you found yourself opening your legs just so the pressure would hit just right between your legs. Whether Kara knew that, it was your little secret.

Kara watched as your mouth twitched, and then Kara’s fingers were dragging along your cheek, soft coal like fingers, sliding across your cheek, her breathing a bit laborious from the small action, or maybe it was the way you looked, like a little puppy needing affection. Wanting it more than anything. It wasn’t sexy in the slightest, it made something form in Kara’s throat, and she immediately just picked up the glasses, got off you, and fixed your seat buckle. Hot

“Surprised your father didn’t print that little distraction on the schedule” she gritted out, “now, this black tie gala event, what’s it for?”

Your heart was racing, and you swallowed, moving to lean over the paper to get a closer look, “it’s a black tie gala for a charity, for cancer I believe. Daddy sets them up, and I attend for an hour and then complain of a headache, don’t worry, we won’t be there long. These events are tedious” you spoke, looking out the window.

“Nothing says let’s cure cancer like cocktails and crab cakes” Kara uttered, to which you giggled, and the slight raise of Kara’s lips at the sound made you smile victorious.

The sleek black car drove up to your university, a respected establishment, and you eyed Kara, watching her quizzical brows as she eyed the paper, golden hair glinting in the morning sun, lips in a pout, “university not for you? Supergirl?”

Kara’s eyes rose and squinted at the name, supergirl, she licked her lips, you watched as her pink tongue made an introduction, “no. At least not now in my life. And I would appreciate it if you called me by my name, Kara would suffice”.

“What? Not supergirl? You don’t like when I call you that?” Your brows rose, and your fingers tip toed over the seat and onto her arm, walking across, flirting. Kara’s back straightened, her eyes widened, and she immediately grabbed your hand with a gentle force, fingers wrapping around yours, softly, calmly, “supergirl is nice and all. And I’m thankful for the job. But not many people call me by my name anymore. Kara. And I’d like you too. You know, since we will be forming a relationship”

“Oh? We have a relationship?” You cooed,smirk wide.

“A professional relationship where I make sure you don’t get hurt or kidnapped or held for ransom or attacked-that working relationship” Kara spoke, and then let your hand go, her grey eyes moved to the university, “the bell rung. You’re late. I’ll be around.” And then she was out of the car, opening the door and pulling you out by your wrist.

Kara watched you go inside the building, watched as you sat down in your seat, she spent the time walking the university halls, hands in her jean pockets, Clark texting her, asking how the first day was, if you had warmed up to her yet. Kara laughed and texted back that you did. Her x-ray vision was a blessing, it meant she could keep an eye on you. She sat hunched over near the wall, watching you. You were clever. Smart, bright. You answered every question with a raised hand and those confident words. You giggled when your friend told you a joke. You were someone entirely different in a classroom than the front you put up.

When class ended and you departed out of the class, shoulder to shoulder with a few friends, Kara held back, she got up, dusted off her pants, and put down the ridiculous glasses she had bought with Ruthye, and walked far enough behind. She strolled, looking completely at ease, and then you whispered something and fell back, falling in line with kara.

“You know, the whole purpose of my job is that I keep an eye on you. From afar. You don’t have to walk with me” Kara spoke, shades still on. You rolled your eyes, “well I’m a heiress worth 10 million and more and if I want to walk beside you, Kara Zor el, then I’m going to walk beside you” you replied, snarky, before bumping her shoulder.

“Besides, I wanted to talk about the charity event. My ex boyfriend will be there. Louis. He despises me, hates me, I’m pretty sure he’d pull something.” You strolled beside her, backpack in hand.

Kara’s shoulders tensed, her blue eyes seeming to eye your face a little too long, “you think he’d hurt you?” The question was asked firmly, and without hesitation. Kara’s hands were already clutched firmly beside you, like she was on alert

“Hurt me? God no” you giggled, “I should have pointed out the extent. He’ll probably do something childish like red gum that makes my teeth blue”

Kara’s shoulders relaxed, you tracked the motion, “why? Were you scared he was going to hurt me? You care about me?” You teased, moving to rub your thumb over her cheek, to which Kara slapped away gently.

“What did you do to make the poor guy so pissed at you?” She questioned, reaching the sleek car and opening the door for you, even taking your bag, you shrugged, “oh, I just slept with him and then broke up right after”.

The door slammed harder than Kara meant to, “valid reaction” she spoke, ears red.

Kara stood for what felt like the millionth time, watching Bridget and some other maid she didn’t know the name of, pick a dress just for you to shake your head, “it needs to have a wow factor. Daddy won’t be attending, so I need to really pop” you spoke, moving to the closet, “should I do a low piece?” You bit your lip in thought before your eyes landed on Kara, “what are you wearing Kara?”

All eyes turned to Kara, even Bridget, and Kara sucked in breath, “what do you mean what am I wearing? Black? All black?” She inquired, and when you strolled right up to her, hands moving to her shoulders, flirty, again, yet on a mission. Your eyes glazed over, “I’ve got the perfect suit for you. And I mean perfect. And-it matches with my dress”.

Kara’s eyebrows rose, “why would we need to match?”

You quirked your brow, already moving to the closet, “obvi so you won’t lose me in a crowd. These functions get so crowdy”

In less than five minutes Kara stood in a miraculous suit. It was a dark grey suit, a white button up, and the star of the show, a green teal silvery tie. It looked refined, and classy, and Kara would never admit she looked sexy. Her wild blonde curls, the suit doing wonders.

“It’s a start” you spoke, and then you were moving, taking Kara’s arm and rolling the white button up sleeves up to her forearms, showing off her veins, and then you moved back, cheeks red, “now that is what I’m talking about supergirl” you gave her a wink, “I’d fuck you in that”. The comment was so brief and fast that Kara tensed, white hot heat filling her veins, but before she could question, you were walking into your closet. A moment later you descended wearing a green teal dress, perfectly shaped. You looked like a model, and you were well aware of that.

“We look quite the couple” you teased, and Kara shot you a look, “we’re not a couple. I’m your security and I’ll be busy doing security things” Kara spoke opening the door and rushing you in the car.

The charity gala was just as wild and incomprehensible as Kara had thought. You both had arrived in record time, another estate, a million guests all fawning over you, and what was worse was the absolute charm you brought to the party. You blushed, kissed cheeks, talked business like a man, your father having taught you well, Kara stood back for most of it. The music was loud, the chattering endless, she would have been overwhelmed with the sounds, her powers making her feel like she was in a war zone. But she stayed calm, eyed you, the people who touched you, watched your expressions, if you were uncomfortable.

You enjoyed having Kara close by, she stood a few feet from you, eyes on alert, and you’d give her small smile every few minutes. A reassurance that this would all be done soon. Then, Louis happened. Kara spotted him before you even did, mostly because he was barreling over people, rushing past, bumping and refusing to apologize. His eyes on one thing, you.

He was angry, if anything, a bottle in his hand, you felt Kara first, her calm, firm hand yanking you behind her, just as Louis came barreling to you. He collided with Kara, who sent him stumbling, his eyes widened.

“Who the hell are you?” He uttered, sputtered, “I’m trying to talk to my girlfriend” he looked sick, green in the face, Kara clocked that. With a calm voice, she spoke, “I’m just here trying to do my job man. You can speak to her, from this distance”.

Louis for his part moved to speak, but quickly found he couldn’t, and immediately fled to throw up into a ficus tree. Kara’s lips pulled up in disgust. “Yeah I’ve done that a few times.”

You blushed, “you didn’t have to put me behind you. Louis’s a big guy, but he wouldn’t hurt me”

Kara nodded, “that’s probably true. But he looked rough. I didn’t want anything bad to happen to you. You look far too beautiful for that” Kara spoke, and then moved to go back to her spot. You blushed, and realized for the first time that Kara Zor el had complimented you. She called you beautiful, not sexy, or some other generic compliment. But beautiful. The same word she had used to describe the nature in your gardens.

On the drive home you spoke, “when my dad had dinner with you, what did he say? About me?” It was a question you couldn’t help but ask, your shoulders were covered by Kara’s coat, having been cold.

Kara sighed out, a hand moving to rub her cheeks, exhausted, but eyes alive, “he spoke about you in a way that made me feel like he was a father.” The words were simple, Kara continued, sensing your curiosity.

“What I mean by that, is, he had this look, this deep desperation when he spoke about you. About the threats that were plaguing you. Like he couldn’t bear it. Like he was angry, and he had to protect you”. Kara’s voice was quiet, now, eyes lost in the streetlights that followed, “he sounded like my father. When he told me about Clark’s ship. The one that sent me here to earth.”

You let the words hit you, let them cascade over you.

“That’s when I knew-I had to take the job. Because I’d be protecting you. A chance to save someone’s else’s daughter. Something my father would be proud of.”

Kara moved her fingers to your hand, not holding, but just enough that her palm met yours, grey eyes ablaze, “you don’t feel loved. I know that. But you are. Deeply. And as much as I loath saying this-I really like you”.

Having a heart to heart after a charity gala with Kara Zor El was not on the list of things you ever thought you’d do. But from then on, you and Kara had a bond formed. Something that tied you two together. You became less inclined to give Kara grey hairs, less cruel, less angry, and Kara became less, detached.

Kara would stay and have dinner with you at the manor most days, she’d stay and spend the evening with you, she’d spend the night. She knew your favorite foods, olives and cheese. She would take the wine after two glasses with a slight smirk, “that’s enough of that”.

She’d giggle with you when you’d get the giggles, she even carried you five flights of estate stairs when you were drunk, trying to cuddle and kiss her. It was even more embarrassing when you woke up with your clothes buttoned up on the wrong side of your skin.

“You tried taking your clothes off-multiple times, and I had to button you up backwards” Kara spoke, giggling, “you were committed I’ll give you that”.

Your father watched you and Kara with close eyes, happy eyes, he saw your obvious fascination, the way you’d smile when Kara would do something simple as open your door for you, every morning. He would get reports of you and Kara walking side by side after your classes.

You had even met krypto, who seemed to love you, if his tail meant anything.

So it shouldn’t have surprised you what happened next.

It had happened between giggles. At midnight. You laying down on the carpet, the fire still roaring, Kara laying down next to you, blonde hair curling around the carpet. You had drank, just a few glasses, and Kara had done something stupid, she had brought a flask of solar vodka. She had drunk it between board games, between you dancing in victory on the ottoman, singing “you lose! You lost supergirl”

And then it had happened. You had smiled, simple, and the fire had made your eyes pop, and then Kara had leaned in, noses brushing, breath meeting, and then lips that were far to harsh for a first kiss. Kara’s lips were harsh and fast, too eager, too wild, she bit your lip teasingly, and you had immediately pushed her down, climbing on top, claiming, and Kara let you, her fingers trailing down to cup your ass, and you had whined into her mouth, the perfect opening for her tongue to trail into your mouth.

Her tongue was hot and searing, and you had moaned, loud and untamed, you had moved to thread your fingers I between her hair, pulling, and Kara had whimpered, “fuck. You think you’re in charge” she had growled, a low giggle that spread down to your panties.

And then Kara had flipped you over, pinning you to the carpet, her eyes were midnight dark, lips kissed swollen, her mouth moved to press sloppy kisses to your neck, trailing her tongue over the skin, tasting the skin, the sweat, and then her lips had moved to ghost over your ear, kissing the lobe, taking it between her teeth and biting.

You had whimpered, tugging her closer, needy in the way you begged, whined, and Kara smiled devishly, “I thought about this the first day I met you. When you told me I was late” she spoke, lips moving back to your lips, before fingers moved to open your blouse, her eyes lighting up at your bra, and the slope of your breast.

“I wanted to shut you up, I wanted to bring you over my lap and spank you. Like the little spoiled little girl you are. You always have to be right, you always have to win, you are so self conscious, and a smart ass-and cruel-and mean-and self centered-“ Kara was kissing down your chest now, fingers moving to tease your already hard nipples, placing soppy kisses along the seam of your breasts, undoing your bra, mouth abusing and making your heart beat fast and your body more than ready.

She took her time, working you up, supergirl with messy hair and wild abandon, and when you pulled down your panties, wet, Kara let out a whine, “beautiful. So freakin beautiful”.

She started with a kiss to your slit, collecting the juices with her tongue, laving, and then moving up to your clit, which was pink and swollen, she sucked, once, twice, which caused you to lift your hips, riding her face, and Kara’s lips twisted into a smile, a smirk. The pleasure was toe curling, and you came so many times you had to beg Kara to stop, and when she did, lips filled with wetness, eyes dilated, did she turn you around, give you a gentle kiss on your ass, before spanking it, firmly.

Then came her fingers. She started with one, slowly easing it, careful in her movements, leaving kisses in your hairline, letting you adjust, the pain was fast, and you clutched onto her, Kara cooed, “shhh-I know-it hurts. It’ll feel better. If you want me to stop just say the word, you’re in control baby-“

It was hot, seeing Kara, with her fingers buried deep inside you, her blue eyes were glazed over, but felt different from the roughness of before, from the dizzying desire, the lust filled thought from days of teasing and weeks and months of being in close proximity. Of seeing supergirl in her element. But this, this was simply Kara Zor El, the girl who was born on Argo, who lost so many things, clutching onto you, loving you, treasuring you.

By the third finger, Kara was plunging in at a fast place, her fingers curling, twisting, like she knew your body, was in tune with the way your whimpers felt.

And when you came apart again, she caught you.

Needless to say it was the best sex of your life. You woke up to Kara and a red rose she picked from the garden. You spent days fucking on every corner of the estate. On the table, where Kara spread you open and ate you out like a four course meal. On the wall where Kara plunged her fingers in and made you see stars, in the mirror in the guest room where Kara kissed and teased and sucked on your breasts till you came just from that. She looked awfully proud of that one.

She kissed you softly, at night, slept with you curled into her chest, made you her password to her mobile, everything about her world was centered on you. Her job of bodyguard, had doubled since becoming your girlfriend. She held you close as she’d walk you to class, kiss you senseless outside. Kara Zor El was complete.

Until one day, she wasn’t.

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