Supercorp- One shots

The Red Room

Something about not being in control was inherently wrong to the hero. The feeling of her rut growing hotter, her arousal pronounced and visceral, it left her unable to think with absolute moral clarity, and that was where she could pinpoint her anxiety of terrible things that she would never do but feared on some level that she might.

She was a God among mortals after all, the woman of steel and the last shield of defence because of the fact, and yet Kara knew that in the blink of an eye she could so easily become a weapon to end all weapons.

Put simply she was an alcoholic who hadn't had her first drink, that was how she had likened it to romantic partners in the past. It wasn't simply a case of being born inherently good; she had merely just not reached the total lack of inhibition that would precipitate evil. And there was an evil inside of her, Kara was certain of it. A bad day in the office, a parking ticket, on a rough day too much sugar in her coffee was enough to make the devilish little voice in the back of her head pronounced and angry.

In her most private fears, when the primal urge of her rut kicked in, when the veil lifted and she could almost touch the shape of an alpha who was utterly detached from concepts of morality, that was when she worried most that it was an addiction waiting to happen. It was why until someone figured out a way to suppress her rut she felt bound by a sense of duty to never indulge her primal needs during the worst height of it. In Kara's mind, that was just a powder keg waiting to blow.

The fear of losing control during that twelve hour peek was an obsessive phobia that had consumed her entire life, she knew that. It was the thing that had caused all of her previous relationships to end. It was always met with some semblance of understanding in the beginning from everyone she had ever dated... right up until they realised she was deadly serious and sex during the most hormonal peek of her rut would never be an option.

It was an oath so important that it could never be broken for anyone or anything, and so girls came, girls went, and the heartache of it all never got any easier. Alex always promised she would change her mind when she met the right person. Kara prayed if that was the case she would never cross their path.

Then Lena came along.

It was a patient series of conversations that had gone on from the first date all the way into the first year of marriage, it was an issue in which neither of them ever conceded ground but one that was always respectful, loving and patient. Lena was good like that, Kara thought. The rut would come in the middle of the month like clockwork, Kara would disappear to the fortress of solitude for twelve hours until the worst of it passed, and Lena never pressed or pushed regardless of how silly she thought the whole thing was. It was a stalemate, albeit a loving one.

The desire to start a family added a layer of complexity to the impasse. That and the fact she had married perhaps the only scientist in the world both smart and determined enough to create a tangible solution.

"Are you sure about this?" Kara stopped pacing and stared from the other side of the glass at the brilliant little scientist busy behind a row monitors. "Can I... can I at least take the uniform off?" Kara peered down at her family crest and then covered it with her folded arms.

"Absolutely not, the uniform is the best part." Lena grinned and tapped away, earning a disapproving stare. "Try one last time, give me a big one, like you really mean it—"

Before she could finish the statement the thunderous hiss of hot lasers met the impenetrable glass, and if Kara wasn't trying to beat her prison to the point of engineering failure then she certainly did a good impression of a woman who was trying exactly that.

Lena smirked at the angry little god she had made into a willing test subject, laser eyes too bright and hot to be looked at directly, every muscle fiber tight, taut and wound, and on some level the fact she had completed what Lex never could and engineered a prison strong enough to contain a Kryptonian was a feat she felt arrogantly prideful about. Therapy would only ever go so far, Kara wanted a real solution—plus a contingency in case the red kryptonite which Lena swore was the solution made her lose control—Lena felt wholly satisfied she had met the brief.