Work Header

a take away a bit of blue girl (all she wanna do is fuck me)

Chapter Text

Looking back, Kara couldn’t even remember what the initial argument had been about in the first place.

They all seemed to unfold in similar ways.

Andrea making some cutting, maybe deserved comment about Kara’s work ethic. Kara pushing back so furiously that it just barely fell short of butting heads with a superior. And so it would go—on and on, back and forth—until either Kara stormed off in a disgruntled huff or Andrea pulled rank with a condescending smirk. Or both. More often than not, it was both.

But that time, in particular, had been an especially heated exchange. It was acutely after hours, and Kara’s tongue was looser and her tone all the more bitter for it. Until Andrea went for the lowest blow thus far.

“Listen,” she said, rolling her eyes as she stepped closer and closer. “I’m not Lena, or James Olsen, or like any other past employers of yours who gave you all sorts of inappropriate leeway, and I for one will not—”

But that was all Andrea managed to get out because once she was in arm’s reach, Kara kissed her.

It was so easy.

So easy to just reach out and grab Andrea around the hip, yanking her close and crashing their mouths together.

Maybe it was because she had mentioned Lena or because Kara just needed Andrea to stop berating her for only a moment… But in any case, Kara kissed her.

It was quick. Heated. Naught but flashes of tongue and teeth.

It felt mostly instinctive, with Kara’s body acting then reacting of its own accord, that by the time her brain caught up with the rest of her, she was licking into Andrea’s mouth.

With a muffled grunt of surprise, Kara jerked away, her hands—which had somehow fisted themselves into the soft silk of a now considerably disheveled blouse—keeping Andrea at trembling arm’s length. It took a great effort to let go, then an even greater effort to not stammer. “I—I really didn’t mean to, you know…”

“Save it,” Andrea said, her voice deep and throaty, affected, at a pitch that had Kara’s cheeks flushing dark and warm.

Kara shook her head frantically. “No, but seriously, I really—”

Andrea seized Kara by the collar and tugged, hard. Kara let herself be pulled back down in an abrupt jerk, gasping when Andrea bit down on her lower lip, tugging briefly with insistent teeth.

Then it was over, and Andrea was gone in a flash, already striding neatly back over to her desk. “Get out,” she said, picking at various documents. Her voice was back to normal again.

“… What?”

Andrea glanced up from her papers, an eyebrow already raised. “Get out of my office, Kara,” she said, matter-of-factly. “I have work to do. As do you, I’m sure.”

“Yes. I mean, I do…” Kara studied Andrea, looking for even the tiniest trace of what had just transpired between them. Something leftover perhaps. A reminder. A hint, however small. But Andrea’s gaze, unwavering as it dropped back down to her files, betrayed nothing. “Okay, good night then.”

Andrea didn’t acknowledge the hesitant farewell, her back now facing the door.

Kara wandered out into the empty bullpen in a mild shock. It wasn’t until she had long since left the building that she realized that she’d forgotten to storm out of Andrea’s office this time.

That night, Kara went to bed, still not entirely sure that her memory was to be trusted, or whether it had even really happened—a kiss of which the only evidence she had was in the mild ache between her legs.

The confirmation came the following morning, with Andrea interrupting Kara and Nia mid-casual conversation to drop a tablet onto Kara’s desk.

“Your article’s been approved.”

Kara gaped, but only slightly. “I’m sorry…?”

“Your article,” Andrea repeated, conversational and casual, completely unlike someone who might have engaged in some late-night clandestine liplocks only the night before. “I thought about what you said, and I agree with you. You made some compelling arguments last night.”

Kara broke eye contact then, forcing both a smile and a breezy tone, “Oh, that’s so great, thank you. I, er, enjoyed our talk too…” She tapped nervously at the tablet screen before her, mindlessly zooming in on the article in question at random spots. She could feel Nia staring at her.

“Well, all right then,” Andrea said. “Keep up the good work.” And she walked off, leaving a lingering note of pricey perfume and the steadily diminishing clack! of heels in her wake.

“So… no notes, huh?” Nia finally broke the silence with a chuckle. “Either you’ve gotten better at making your case or Andrea’s finally starting to see some reason.”

“It’s definitely not the latter,” Kara muttered, and Nia laughed as if it were some big joke. In a way, maybe it was.


Kara tried to avoid being the last person to leave the building after that.

A part of her was desperate to not inadvertently recreate the circumstances of that particular night. Another part of her was even more desperate to not have Andrea think it was something that Kara was expecting by any means.

But things happened.

Supergirl had to fight crime and avert natural disasters, and Kara Danvers was left lurching in the wind with the most inconveniently imminent deadline.

It was only a matter of mere hours before the only light on that floor came from the glow of Kara’s laptop and the fluorescent lamps in Andrea’s office. And once Kara had finished her article, just in the nick of time, there was nothing left to distract her from the soft sifting of papers coming from just beyond those large glass doors.

Kara tried to fight the urge. She honestly did, though maybe not as hard as she could have.

The slight creak as Kara stepped into the doorway gave her away immediately. She opened her mouth, taking in a sharp breath in preparation, but when Andrea looked up… all her words, everything Kara had planned on saying—arguments, apologies, any and all affirmations that she wasn’t normally like this—fell to the wayside.

“Working late?” Andrea asked in greeting. All Kara could do in response was swallow and nod. “I’m glad. You haven’t done that in a while.” She directed her attention back to her laptop, and Kara felt like she could draw a normal sized breath again. “The quality of your work hadn't quite suffered yet, so I felt no pressing need to bring it up with you… But it’s good to see you here this late again.”

“You measure someone’s work ethic by how late they stay at their place of work?” Kara asked, tone half-amused, half-incredulous. “A bit convenient, don’t you think? Given all your late nights.”

“I just work a lot,” Andrea reasoned. “I’d even go so far as to say that the only person in National City to keep later hours would be—”

“Lena Luthor.”

Andrea’s lips—full, slightly pouty, red lipstick somehow immaculate even with this late hour—curved into a knowing smirk. “Well, actually, I was thinking more along the lines of Supergirl.”

“Oh.” Kara gave a curt nod. She probably should have known. “Well… I wasn’t.”

“Thinking about Supergirl? Or just thinking in general?”

Kara blinked a few times, dropped her gaze. “I just…”

“Come here,” Andrea said, in a murmur so soft that Kara could have ignored it if she truly wanted.

Kara had to take a couple of steadying breaths before she could continue, “… Why?”

“To talk.” Andrea’s reply was as immediate as it was casual. “Why else?”

But Andrea seemed to have already made the decision for Kara, rising from her chair and making her way around her desk to lean back against it. She patted at the patch of empty desk beside her, eyebrow arched in a silent command, and Kara obeyed.

With Andrea’s heart thumping in her ears in a far steadier rhythm than her own, Kara shuffled over. She shoved her hands deep inside her pockets—safely out of sight, safe from impulse and temptation. When she finally took her seat, her shoulder brushed against Andrea’s once, but it was enough to drive her to take another hopefully silent, steadying breath.

Up close, Andrea’s perfume was sweet, formidable, and increasingly familiar with every pull.

Kara glanced over, eyes flicking down to the perfectly applied lipstick, just begging to be made messy. “What did you want to talk about?” she asked.

But apparently, Andrea was now done talking to Kara and with the concept of talking altogether. Because she leaned over and into Kara’s space, palm landing heavily on Kara’s lap, right over where her right fist was still clenched inside her pocket.

And just like that, they were kissing again.

There was a lot more finesse to the act when Andrea was the one directing. She wasn’t gentle by any means, but it also wasn’t as messy as their first kiss. Far less teeth knocking against each other, but definitely more tongue—a lot more tongue.

Kara could feel her breath coming up in pants, chest moving heavily, as if responding to real physical exertion.

“Not yet,” Andrea said in a croak, suddenly pulling back.

Kara struggled to curb her natural instincts to follow, to surge forward and reclaim Andrea’s retreating lips. “What?”

Andrea gave Kara’s hand a firm squeeze, and only then did Kara realize that her hand must have moved of its own accord during the earlier frenzy—sliding up Andrea’s thigh, palm pressing against smooth skin, her fingertips sneaking just past the hem of Andrea’s skirt.

“I… don’t know how that happened.”

“I do,” Andrea mused, lips slightly pouted into a teasing grin. Her lipstick was gloriously smudged, half-rubbed away as nature perhaps intended.

“I didn’t mean to,” Kara hastily amended.

“Well, I don’t see you moving away,” Andrea said, conveniently neglecting to mention how she herself had yet to push Kara’s hand away as well.

Under Andrea’s stern hand and amused gaze, Kara’s fingers unconsciously flexed at the sudden attention. The response was instantaneous and deeply visceral, with Andrea’s back snapping straight, a sharp inhale breaking through those pretty painted lips.

“You said, ‘not yet,’” Kara said, voice slightly hoarse until she cleared her throat. “Does that mean that you’d let me—that you’d want me to…” She eventually trailed off with her lips pressed together.

After several beats of heaving silence, Andrea exhaled a quiet laugh and shoved Kara’s hand off her leg, pushing off and away from her desk, nonchalant as ever.

Kara’s hand, suddenly free and emptied, tingled at all the points that had come into contact with the warmth of Andrea’s skin. She had to clench and unclench her hand a few times to get the feeling back.

Andrea put distance between them in long, purposeful strides as she fastidiously tugged her skirt back into place. “Good night, Kara.”

And thus, the spell was broken.

Getting to her shaky feet, Kara was already starting to doubt whether she could trust her memory again. She started to take her leave for the night, pausing only when she reached the doorway, her foot planted at the very edge—the boundary between where this was allowed and the rest of the world.

“So… I guess we’re done talking for the day,” Kara said, in one last ditch effort to give voice to whatever this was before she had to cross back over.

Andrea just hummed in agreement. “Let me know when you find your words,” she said, never looking up even once. “We’ll talk some more then.”


A whole week and a half passed before Kara understood the situation with more than just the most basic, basest instincts of her body.

It was a sleepless night. Certainly not her first, furthest from the last, but it bothered her all the same.

Hours crept by with Kara repeatedly glancing over at her nightstand, the red numbers of her digital clock intermittently marking the painfully slow passage of time. It was nearing midnight when Kara finally left her bed.

Within minutes, she was riding up in the CatCo elevator, her entire body still as a statue, with the exception of a single foot, tapping away insistently as the only outlet for her restlessness. That is, until the elevator doors hissed open, and Andrea was right there, standing before her.

With weariness lining her forehead and a long black coat draped over one arm, Andrea was clearly on her way out. And Kara was in her way.

“I’m leaving for the day,”Andrea said, her tone firm but not unwelcoming. She quirked an eyebrow. A question. An offering of temptation. A dare.

As if she’d be equally content with Kara moving aside to let her pass or… staying put.

The doors started to close—a testament to how long they’d been standing there—and Kara was forced to slap at the sensors to keep them open.

Andrea gave a rather impatient sigh, shifting her weight from one high-heeled foot to the other. “Kara.”

“I want to touch you,” Kara blurted out. That gave Andrea immediate pause, dark eyes narrowing slightly—cool, calculating, and clearly sizing her up. “And… and kiss you. I liked… doing that with you. But mostly, right now—if it’s all right with you—I’d like to touch you.”

“That’s all good and well, Kara,” Andrea said, with an air of professional decorum usually reserved for board meetings. “But are you going to do something about it?”

Kara’s hand shot out, staying the elevator doors for the second time, and the momentum was enough to launch her forward. She closed the distance in three shaky steps, hands automatically curling around soft, lithe hips and tugging, and Andrea came willingly.

Absolute, sheer relief flooded Kara’s system when Andrea’s lips were, once again, crashing against hers—the simple culmination of half-feverish daydreams that the sensible part of her brain had tried to deny her time and time again. But now, with Andrea’s hands tangling in her hair and tugging, all rational thought went blissfully blank then quiet.

It felt like Kara couldn’t get close enough. Not even with her tongue pushing into Andrea’s mouth. Or with their chests heaving against each other, insistent hands being filled with Andrea’s soft curves. Kara slid her hand down—the smooth material of Andrea’s slacks whispering against her palm—and grabbed Andrea's ass with a firm squeeze.

Andrea actually started with a jolt, an inelegant grunt spilling from her lips and against Kara’s. And Kara needed to hear it again. Needed something to negate the professionally clipped tone still berating her in her head. So, she grabbed Andrea harder, practically lifting her off the ground. It was only for a moment, but Andrea took full advantage, eagerly wrapping her legs around Kara’s middle.

“You’re strong,” Andrea said, panting. She pushed her hair back with one hand, clutched onto Kara’s shoulder with the other. Then she rolled her hips, grinding into Kara’s stomach in such a way that Kara already knew it was going to be good.

Kara started the staggering journey to the office, kissing down the long column of Andrea’s neck, breathing in the lingering wisps of her perfume as she littered tiny nips here and there. “You should call your driver,” she said gruffly. “Let him know you’re going to be late.”

“No need. I won’t be.”

The casual, yet certain remark was enough to stutter Kara’s mind and movements as one. She froze in place, despite Andrea’s valiant efforts to suck hickies that weren’t going to last even a minute on Kara’s skin. “What makes you think that this will be quick?”

“Because I want it to be,” Andrea said, giving Kara’s hair an insistent tug. “So. Make it quick.”

And perhaps because she had already done enough of it for one night, Kara didn’t hesitate this time. Abruptly abandoning all thought of bending Andrea over her own desk, she changed course and went, instead, for the nearest available flat surface.

She all but dropped Andrea onto the desk, dragging her to the edge with a firm tug. But when Kara went to get down on her knees, Andrea grabbed her by the shirt.

“I said, quick, Kara,” she insisted.

“Fine,” Kara said with a huff. “What do you need from me then?”

But Andrea was already unzipping her pants, taking Kara’s hand in hers and guiding it down her body. Just as Kara’s fingers were finally slipping past her waistband, Andrea bit down on her own lower lip, effectively stifling whatever sound that threatened to spill, but Kara’s gasp was loud enough for the both of them.

“Oh, god, you’re so wet…” she said under her breath, dumbfounded.

“I am,” Andrea said, somehow irritable even between shallow pants. “So, go on and fuck me already.”

The swear rippled its way down Kara’s spine, leaving shivers and warm prickles in its wake. It felt good just to hear Andrea demand something of her in a throaty voice like that.

Andrea sighed, “Kara.”

No more hesitations.

Kara stroked through the copious slick once, twice, before pressing inside Andrea with two fingers.

Andrea’s entire body seized up in response, her breath sucked in so violently, fingernails briefly biting into Kara’s shoulders. But when Kara kept going, her fingers flexing deeper with each thrust, Andrea kept near silent. Not even acknowledging the pleasure beyond curling up against Kara’s chest, her face buried into Kara’s neck.

But Kara wanted a reaction—a real reaction. She just needed something to hold onto later that night when her brain would try to convince her that this hadn’t happened. So, she grabbed Andrea’s hip in a bruising grip and began to fuck her in earnest, driving her fingers between Andrea’s spread legs in a pace almost meant to punish.

It’s not until the fourth or fifth thrust, though, that Kara finally got what she was after: a sound, a blessed, blissed out noise of pleasure. Andrea clutched onto Kara tighter, drew in a ragged breath just barely tinged with an honest moan, and Kara was absolutely hooked.

Kara used her free hand to sweep long, dark hair—both impossibly silky and full—off Andrea’s shoulder, allowing her to scatter kisses up Andrea’s neck unhindered, to nip at her ear and husk out, “You’re right.” She pressed a triumphant smirk into Andrea’s skin when a particularly deep thrust drew out a muffled cry. “This won’t take long at all.”

She expected a scoff, a cutting remark, or even a violent hair tug. But never in a million years would she have expected Andrea to actually whimper at her words, to tighten around her fingers quite like that…

It’s not long after that Andrea came, eyes squeezed shut, back curved in the most elegant arch, absolutely flooding Kara’s fingers. The shaky moan that fell from her lips struck Kara right in the chest, hard enough that she couldn’t help but whine in response, sympathetic pleasure rendering her legs slightly weak and wobbling. Kara kept the pace, fucking Andrea right through her orgasm and after, until Andrea grabbed her wrist and softly begged her to stop.

“Sorry, sorry,” Kara said hastily. She slipped her fingers out as gently as possible, leaning in for a desperate kiss when Andrea gave a tiny whimper and grimace in response. “Sorry,” she repeated under her breath as she deepened the kiss, hand automatically going to cup Andrea’s face. “I’m—I didn’t mean to hurt you.”

And Andrea let Kara kiss her. For all of five seconds.

Kara immediately backed away at the firm push against her chest. “Oh. I, uh…” Her mouth snapped shut as she watched Andrea fix her pants, redoing the zipper and button with steady, nimble fingers.

“I have to go,” Andrea said, looking up at Kara, no nonsense once more. Her heart-rate was already leveling off and she looked mildly bored now. “So, I won’t have time to…” She gestured vaguely in Kara’s direction, eyes dropping down to Kara’s belt buckle meaningfully.

Kara hastened to shake her head. “Oh, right, no. That’s okay. I didn’t come here for… that.”

Rolling her eyes, Andrea just shook out her hair with a small scoff. She somehow procured a spare hair-tie, pulling her hair back into a small efficient bun, and just like that, the CEO was back, the only evidence of her lingering pleasure—and Kara’s earlier endeavors—in the slight blush, still high in her cheeks.

“I’m late,” she said by way of explanation.

“Okay…” Kara blinked, backed away to give Andrea plenty of room. “Okay, sorry.”

“Don’t apologize. I’m just saying that I would have returned the favor otherwise,” Andrea said, nonchalant and curt as she pushed past Kara. “Maybe next time, don’t wait until I’m right about to leave the office.”

“Right, uh…” Kara whirled around. “Bye?”

Andrea didn’t even look back. “Take the next one,” she said, stepping into the elevator.

Left with only the dark, silence, and her thoughts, Kara watched the glowing numbers above the elevator doors. Watched as they slowly counted down, the distant hum getting all the more distant with each floor. Then she listened to the clacks of Andrea’s heels disappear into the backseat of a car, both sides of a phone conversation about an upcoming shipment drifting up to her ears.

It’s not until the car was blocks away that Kara finally moved. On her own elevator ride down, she studied herself in the mirror, noting all the places on her neck and shoulders that should have been irritated and red from Andrea’s attention. And that’s when she first noticed the streak of off-white near the hem of her shirt, prominent against the dark navy. Where she must have instinctively wiped her hand off on after… and, well, it’s certainly something that not even the most well-reasoned, argumentative part of her brain could deny the existence of.


The next day, Kara couldn’t bear to look at Franklin’s desk, which she had only recognized rather shamefully as Franklin’s desk in the harsh light of day.

She kept noticing things that only she would or could have—the way the desk had slid backwards a tad, the various personal knickknacks that had been relegated outside an 8 inch radius, just enough space for—

Kara’s vision shifted into focus at the insistent poke to her ribs. “What?”

“Andrea’s staring at you,” Nia hissed with an annoyance that only a person repeatedly repeating themselves could feel.

Against her better judgment and Nia’s hastily whispered objections, Kara snapped her head around her shoulder. She saw Andrea in her office, studiously poring over some documents at her desk.

“Huh… I swear that she was staring at you,” Nia murmured.

Kara believed her.


Kara pretended not to notice as people started trickling out of the office and bullpen one by one. By five, most of the people had gone home for the night. By seven, only a select few remained at their desks.

Before Nia finally took her leave, she stopped to ask, “Want to head out? I’m meeting Brainy for a drink at the alien bar if you want to come with.”

“Oh, thanks! But… I think I’ll have to take a raincheck. I really need to get this article in before tomorrow,” Kara said, as if she hadn’t been arranging and rearranging the same three sentences for the past half-hour.

“All right, well, good luck!”

Kara gave Nia a friendly wave goodbye, briefly glancing over at Andrea’s office before directing her undivided attention back to her already pristinely edited assignment.

It took a series of extended, boring half-hours before Kara was flashing a smile at the last person to leave the office, heart suddenly thumping double-time and just as hard in her chest. It took another half-hour after that before Kara was abandoning both her computer and reservations, striding into Andrea’s office like she had a purpose.

“And here I thought, that I’d have to come fetch you myself,” Andrea drawled as soon as Kara stepped foot inside.

“Are you leaving anytime soon?” Kara asked.

Andrea looked up from her iPad, eyebrow arched. “Wasn’t exactly planning on it.”

Kara opened her mouth, fully intent on giving voice to the rising pressure in her lower belly, when she noticed the folders scattered across Andrea’s desk—the L-Corp seal stamped into each and every one. “Lena was here?” was what she ended up saying instead.

With a frown, Andrea pointedly dropped her tablet on top of the files, disappearing them from view. “Earlier this morning, yes.” Kara couldn’t do much more than blink repeatedly at this revelation, until Andrea’s exasperated sigh yanked her back into the present. “Is that why you came in here then? To inquire about my business relations?”

“No.” Kara floundered for a couple of beats, cheeks already flushing from the way Andrea was looking up at her, expectant. “So… I went a bit over the max word count, but the details really do make the art—”

“Kara,” Andrea cut in sharply. She gave her the tiniest shake of the head in wonder. “What are you doing?”

“What are we doing?” Kara countered.

“Some healthy after hours stress relief?” Andrea said simply, and perhaps to her, it really was that simple. “Surely, I can’t be your first. Didn’t you date James Olsen? Not to mention, Lena…”

Kara rushed to shake her head, stomach swirling unhappily. “No, never. Especially not with… no.”

“I was under the impression that we were both getting something out of this.”

The very corners of Kara’s lips twitched in amusement. “Are we?” she asked, ever so casually, and Andrea actually balked.

“What happened last time… well, that wasn’t by choice, nor my fault, mind you,” she said brusquely, and it’s the most ruffled that Kara might have ever seen her. “And I’m more than happy to balance out the scales, so to speak. If you’re up for it.”

The curve to Andrea’s smirk was back, with vengeance and then some, and Kara couldn’t help but be curious. “Did you have something in mind?”

Without breaking eye contact, Andrea reached for the bottom desk drawer. There was a series of muted beeps as her thumbprint granted her access, then she was dropping the contents of said drawer onto her desk all rather unceremoniously.

Kara felt her whole body stiffen in surprise and, well, undeniable desire, all sense of rational thought be damned. She struggled to swallow, mouth suddenly and uncomfortably dry.

“You ever use one of these before?” Andrea asked, and the slight croon to her voice made it all too clear that she was the one with all the power again. Kara couldn’t do much more than give a tiny, barely perceptible head shake, which apparently was more than enough for Andrea because she pressed forward once more, “Well, you’re a fast learner, aren’t you?”

Andrea raised an eyebrow in challenge, her lips twisting into a delighted smirk when Kara gave a small nod this time. She slid the toy across her desk, soft silicone catching slightly against the glass surface, the faint friction deafening in Kara’s ears.

“All right, so put it on.”

The kisses were slower this time, more controlled and deliberate, though Andrea kept pushing for more. More teeth, more tongue, more panting and heavy breaths spilling out into the shared space between them.

Andrea broke away first, to drop Kara’s pants, urging her to step out of them and into the harness. Kara couldn’t help the startled gasp when Andrea tugged the straps tight, settling the toy snug against her already sensitive clit.

“So… how are we going to do this?” Kara asked, already breathless.

“Do I need to draw you a diagram?”

“No, like… Do you want to, like, against the desk?” Kara barely stuttered the words out before she had to squeeze her eyes shut, utterly overtaken by the sudden visceral visual of her taking Andrea against her own desk.

“Yeah, you’d like that, wouldn’t you?” Andrea said in a teasing drawl. “But no. This is your first time doing this, so I’ll take point. Get on the couch, and I’ll get on you, okay?”

“Yeah, okay…” Kara didn’t have to back up too much before the backs of her knees hit the couch, prompting her to fall backwards into the cushions. She glanced down, then back up at Andrea, willfully avoiding the prominent toy now jutting from her own hips. “Do you want me to lie down?”

Andrea didn’t reply. She barely even looked over as she untied her hair, neatly stepping out of her underwear and hiking her dress up in one fluid movement.

“Or, um, this is good too,” Kara said with a near audible gulp, when Andrea started to climb into her lap.

“Shh.” Andrea hooked a hand around the back of Kara’s neck, tugged her closer. “Listen. When I started riding you, you’re going to be tempted to move your hips. To thrust up and the like,” she said, all matter-of-factly, almost professional. “And that’s fine. Just make sure you do it hard, okay?”

And that was the only warning Kara got before Andrea finally sank down on the toy.

Kara just barely managed to keep from tearing the leather beneath her fingertips at the resulting high-pitched, shuddering moan that tumbled from Andrea’s open mouth.

“Mm, fuck, it’s been a while,” Andrea gasped out, and Kara just let out the most helpless whine, her hips still stock-still and frozen. “Jesus christ…”

“We can stop,” Kara said hastily. “If it’s too much, we don’t have to.” Andrea gave a low chuckle in response, the dry sound settling in parts of Kara’s lower body that she hadn’t even realized could feel things, let alone dark, trembling things like that.

“Oh, I can take it,” Andrea insisted. Then her hips started to roll against Kara’s in a rhythm that gave Kara no choice but to agree with her.

Andrea rode her hard—her movements tight and controlled, but rough, with her hips slamming down at an ever increasing pace. And Kara didn’t trust herself enough to do much more than watch with gritted teeth, fingers digging into the couch, even with the wet heat steadily pooling between her own legs.

“I’m—I’m sorry,” Kara said, and her voice had inexplicably become hoarse, practically unrecognizable to her own ears. “Do you need… Do you want me to…? What should I do?”

Andrea pressed her forehead against Kara’s with a groan, and Kara all but shuddered from the contact. “Kara, it’s fine if you can’t do dirty talk,” she said in a heated rush. “But make yourself useful and just kiss me then.”

Straightening up, Kara hastened to comply, hands flying from the couch to cradle Andrea’s face and neck. Andrea’s hips stuttered to a stop as they kissed, harsh breaths evening out as Kara licked into her mouth with dire purpose. Then Andrea snatched one of Kara’s hand, swiftly relocating it to her hip before resuming her earlier rhythm, and for some reason, Kara was the one to let out a shaky whimper in response.

She could feel the tremble of her own hips beneath Andrea’s, and even though she wasn’t necessarily the one fucking Andrea, being forced to bear witness to Andrea fucking herself on top of her was almost too much. And slowly but surely, Kara could somehow feel her own pleasure climbing, the steady and unrelenting pressure against her clit, just pulsing in time with Andrea’s increasingly broken moans, and if she could just—


Kara’s eyes snapped wide open, panic overriding her entire system, promptly leaving room for little else as her sister’s voice continued in her right ear.

“There’s been an attack downtown. At 20th and Levinson. We need air support. Supergirl, do you copy? Supergirl? I said, we need air support! Supergirl!”

But of course, Kara couldn’t answer. Normally, she would have had no problem tapping at the small, imperceptible earpiece in her ear and responding to the distress call. But having a beautifully sweaty woman, enthusiastically sounding out her pleasure whilst grinding on her lap? Not the most ideal situation for answering said distress calls.

With a heavily frustrated, mostly internal groan, Kara sat up, lips already twisting in regret. “Andrea, I gotta—”

Andrea gasped and twisted her fingers into Kara’s hair, tugging insistently. “Do that again.”

“W-what?” Kara was dumbfounded, but the desperate demands readily spilling from the usually tight-lipped CEO had her curious and eager and flushing warm all over. “Do what again?”

Andrea ducked her head into Kara’s shoulder, groaning softly, “Say my name.”

The simple request hit Kara like a freight train, leaving her floored and breathless.

“… Andrea…” Kara said in a soft voice, hesitantly, just to try it out. But then, Andrea was riding her in earnest again, her moans breaking up all frantic and frenzied and high, and Kara couldn’t possibly hold back anymore. “Andrea… Andrea, fuck.” She dragged Andrea back into a heated kiss with one hand, seizing her hip with the other, and thrusted up, moving in time with Andrea’s now considerably jerkier movement. “Come for me, Andrea. You’re so close, I can feel the way you’re tightening around me, fuck, fuck…”

Then Andrea was coming with an outright shout muffling against Kara’s mouth, fingertips digging hard into Kara’s back, gasping with pleasure as it left her trembling all over. Kara slowly eased Andrea back into the present, pressing soft kisses to her hair, cradling Andrea with careful arms as she fell slack against her, boneless and sated.

It was a long moment before Andrea caught enough of her breath to look up, pushing back her sweaty hair with a careless hand. She was smiling, blissed out and lazy, her face actually free of smirks and intention.

And Kara had no choice but to ruin it.

“I have to go.”

Andrea blinked slowly. “Are you joking?”

“No. I wish I were, but no.” Kara shook her head, stifling the urge to roll her eyes at herself. “Not that I’d joke about this, of course. But, yeah, I gotta go.”

Andrea looked as if she wanted to protest, but Kara was already lifting her by the hips, gingerly easing her off the strap. Within a couple of seconds, Kara had the harness dropped to the floor, her clothes gathered in her hands, and Andrea was still staring after her in disbelief.

“I’m sorry,” Kara offered with a pained frown. “I just… remembered something really important, and yeah…”

“I don’t have to know,” Andrea said, and her aloof CEO persona was already back in place. “Whatever you do after you leave the premises is none of my business.”

“Sorry,” Kara repeated, hastily shimmying into her pants. She tried not to wince at the rather uncomfortable way the cotton stuck to her slick skin. “Jeez…”

But as Kara turned to leave, Andrea called out a stern command, “Wait.”

Andrea got to her feet, stumbling only once as she made her way over to Kara on shaky legs. She took Kara’s hand, pressed something soft and silky and wet against her palm. “For your troubles,” she all but purred, and when Kara realized what it was, the vertigo hit her over the head with such intensity that her knees almost buckled. “And to remind you of what you’re missing out on.”

“It’s… really important,” Kara said in a strained voice.

“Apparently so,” Andrea said. “Goodbye, Kara.”

“Okay…” Kara said, unable to look Andrea directly in the eye. “Bye…”

She left the office, hastily pocketing the underwear before she could think too hard about it. Because that was a later problem.


The chaos was still on-going when Kara eventually got to the scene.

“What took you?” Alex demanded, dodging all sorts of flying projectiles, as Kara flew up beside her.

Kara felt her cheeks heat up, the ache between her legs suddenly all too noticeable. “I… had stuff to do, okay?”

“Forget it! Just get the big guy!”

Kara quickly zipped toward the source of the heaviest destruction—a gigantic automaton of some sort, consisting of six mechanical arms and sparking wires—as it barreled through car after car. Dreamer was already there, hands glowing blue and at the ready.

“Hey!” Nia called out. “Did you get to finish?”

Kara almost fell out of the air in shock. “What?”

“Your article? The one you were working on?” Nia flashed her a confused frown. “Did you get the chance to finish it?”

The question embarrassed Kara, even though logically, she knew that no one else could see her most recent memories being replayed in a constant, jarring loop in the back of her mind. “I mean… kinda?”

“Man, Andrea’s gonna kill ya!” Nia said with an outright laugh.

And though Kara unfortunately wholeheartedly agreed, she made sure to promptly drop the subject, as there were more important matters to deal with at the moment.