A Wicked Game
Here's a little RojasCorp drabble as part of the Mods' collection of example fics for the Supergirl May-hem Event. Read it HERE on AO3.
Sign-ups for Supergirl May-Hem open December 1st. Seeking writers, artists and betas. For more information, you can find us HERE.
There is something about their relationship that has always been a bit toxic. A small, tiny little fact that never seems to matter to either of them. It seems the two of them are drawn to each other like magnets. Regardless of how much betrayal is shared between them, no matter how many lies are told, they find their way into each other’s orbit. Every time, without fail.
Lena is beginning to understand that it is inevitable. She’s tried to resist it for years, but it’s futile. It’s a cycle that has been repeating itself since she was a teenager. An exasperated sigh slips from her lips as she brings the crystal tumbler up, drinking the last of her Macallan Red. She briefly considers whether to pour another, but her hands are already tilting the bottle before she consciously decides. A quiet chuckle fills the air around her as she sits the bottle back down, eyeing the one sitting next to it on her liquor cabinet. Her taste in scotch has naturally shifted over the years, drifting closer to her Irish roots. Andrea was the one who introduced her to the whiskey back in their boarding school days. Van Horne. It’s the name on the bottle glaring back at her from the shelf in front of her.
She throws her head back and blows out a huff of frustration. Her overactive mind always does this to her after an encounter with her childhood friend. Their lives have been intermingled in the most intricate ways for most of her life. By design or by fate, she’s never been sure. Either way, the woman infuriates her in ways no one else can.
Fucking Andrea.
Making her way to her bedroom, she strips off the suit she’s been wearing for far longer than she wanted and changes into her softest leggings, warmest fuzzy socks, and her favorite sweater. When she agreed to the tech investment dinner, she knew there was a chance Andrea would be there. They work in the same industry and have always been part of the same social groups so running into the Latina is something she is accustomed to. What she didn’t expect was for Andrea to show up with her. The obnoxious little parasite that has been nipping at Andrea’s heels for years. She can’t even remember her name, but she’s made the rounds through all of the eligible, rich women in their circle. She and Andrea broke off their…arrangement (?) six months ago, but it was still a bit of a shock to see her ex-something with someone else.
Their relationship was never exactly exclusive. Their lives and jobs have never allowed them to be in the same place at the same time for very long so they’ve always just agreed to being together when they can and taking other bed partners if and when they had an itch to scratch. For the most part, it’s always worked out. Andrea had moved to National City not too long after Lena’s arrival and they’d spent a lot more time together, definitely a lot more time in each other’s beds. Their most recent split was over a business disagreement that swiftly escalated into one of their nastiest fights since right after college. The Russell Incident, as Lena often refers to it in her head. That fight led to them not speaking for four years. Now she wonders if it will be the same this time.
Lena doesn’t get a chance to explore that train of thought. Just as she leaves her bedroom padding towards her liquor cabinet and her Macallan Red, a harsh buzzing echoes through her penthouse. There’s only one person it can be and she’s not drunk enough to deal with what she knows is going to be a heated confrontation. She slams back what’s left of her third glass of scotch, debates on refilling it again, and stomps her way to the front door instead.
Glancing at the video monitor beside the door, she rolls her eyes. Andrea is standing there with her typical feigned look of nonchalance. She knows the woman too well and can see the nervous vulnerability hiding beneath the facade. Tonight, she certainly doesn’t want to deal with it. She’s too pissed and hurt to want to subject herself to Andrea’s usual wicked little games, but it seems she is being forced to. So, she takes a deep breath, steels herself, and erects the Luthor armor before yanking the door open.
“What do you want, Drea?” Lena hisses, pure venom dripping from her words. She checks her watch. It’s just after midnight. “Hmmm, I figured you’d already be back at your apartment fucking what’s her name by now. Bored of her already? Such a shame.” She stands in her doorway, blocking entrance to the brunette with a hand on the doorframe and a raised brow.
Andrea sighs, her hands twisting in front of her in a way Lena hasn’t seen since they were in their teens. “Come on, Querida (darling). Please let me in so we can talk.” She reaches up like she is going to put a hand on Lena’s, but pulls back at the last minute. “Lena, mi corazón (my heart), I’m begging you, let me explain. It’s not what you think. I promise.”
The CEO scoffs, her emerald eyes a fiery spear piercing the Latina’s soul. “Your promises are empty so save it. First of all, you have absolutely no right calling me any of your little pet names, Drea. Not anymore. You lost that privilege. Second of all, why in the hell should I let you into my home, my safe space after the shit you have put me through most of our lives?” Her voice drops low, pure anger radiates from her skin and body like electricity. “I’m done with your emotional games, Andrea. I’m not that scared little girl you toyed with when we were kids. Gods, I should have put an end to your wicked bullshit years ago.”
She groans and steps back, opening the door to let the seemingly forlorn woman into her home. Closing the door, she presses a hand to Andrea’s chest and steps in front of her, preventing her from moving further into the apartment. Once she has the woman trapped between herself and the door, she crosses her arms just below her breasts, narrows her eyes, and raises her signature brow again. She knows what it does to her ex. It’s always been something that sends shivers down Andrea’s spine and Lena plans to use it to her advantage.
“You have exactly five minutes to explain before I kick you out of here and out of my life, Drea.” She extends her arm to look at her watch for emphasis and resumes her crossed arm pose, extending to her full height with her shoulders back. “I suggest you use it wisely.”
“Right. Okay.” Andrea shifts from one foot to the other, feeling decidedly uncomfortable and unfortunately turned on. Lena has always had this effect on her when she gets mad. What? So sue her, Lena’s fucking hot when she’s mad. She does her best to shake that thought from her head and clears her throat. “Riley was there as a favor to her father. That’s all it was, I swear. Well, I mean, I also wanted to make you jealous.” Andrea grins, that little sparkle in her eyes that always appears when she’s trying to get what she wants.
A molten hot wave of rage boils up from Lena’s gut, crawling up her chest, and sitting heavy on her tongue. She sees the moment Andrea realizes she fucked up and relishes watching those ocean blue eyes widen. “This. Is. Exactly. What. I. Mean.” Lena hisses each word, low and dangerous, she steps closer to the Latina as Andrea shuffles backward until her back lands harshly against the front door. The startling thud makes her swallow audibly. “I’m done with your fucking games, Drea. I’m too old for this shit. Go play your tricks on someone else.”
Lena takes a few more steps into Andrea’s personal space, their height difference barely noticeable. She leans forward, close enough that Andrea can feel her warm breath on her plump lips. “Mmm, it’s too bad, too. We both know there’s nobody else that fucks you like I do.” She smirks. Andrea’s chest heaves from their proximity and releases a quiet moan. She softly nuzzles her nose on the brunette's cheek before licking her lips close enough to graze the woman’s bottom lip. “See, you have always assumed I will just be around whenever you want. Not anymore.”
She pushes herself back and away from her former lover, glancing over her shoulder once more before she walks away. “See yourself out, Drea. I’m done with you.”
The sun beams into the bedroom, stirring Lena from her slumber. Blinking away the grogginess of sleep, she feels soft lips and warm hands skimming across her bare skin. She sighs and rolls her eyes.
“Good morning, Querida.” Andrea says, a sleepy smile and adoring eyes trained on Lena. “I’ll make breakfast. Stay in bed.” She says, pressing a soft kiss to the porcelain skin of her forehead and bounces out of bed. She grabs Lena’s robe as she exits the room just like she’s done a thousand times before.
Lena groans. The cycle begins again.
Oh the wicked games they play.
30 notes
·
View notes