National City Rejects

Predictably enough, as clean as Maggie’s suggestion to get wicked drunk, blow off some steam and then part ways again in the morning may have been, the actual implementation was substantially...messier in reality.

First, of course, there was the relatively predictable awkwardness of ordering a whole tray of shots from Roxanne behind the bar. Now, of course, Maggie’s friend was intimately familiar with Maggie’s habits and tastes. Lena, even sloshed and a bit red-eyed from their earlier emotional conversation, couldn’t help but radiate a certain power. Something which, well, Maggie was always at least a little attracted to.

...okay a lot. Hell, she agreed to get engaged to a cute baby-gay she had initially just known wouldn’t work out at least partially because she could crush Maggie’s skull with her thighs. No biggie. It doesn’t have to be a thing or anything. Maggie wasn’t even really submissive in bed. Power was just...hot.

All this to say, Roxanne took exactly one look at a grinning Maggie and stone faced Lena and just raised a single unimpressed eyebrow. Silence hung between them for a good 30 seconds after Maggie listed out their order of shots (which likely amounted to at least half a bottle of bad decisions night tequila).

“Really Mags? Shit. Don’t scare off the new customer and at least clean up the bathroom after you're done. I don’t need to be mopping up any of you or your hot lady friend’s juices.” The grizzled barkeep gruffed out.

Lena choked on her spit behind Maggie. Maggie facepalmed. No amount of stuttered denials had at all budged the barkeeps initial impressions. Several sets of snickers were heard from nearby regulars who were listening in. Maggie just kinda hoped that a sinkhole would open up and swallow her into death to save herself from the embarrassment. No such luck apparently.

...plus well, the sight of a heavily blushing Lena behind her had its own kind of appeal anyways.

One way or another, Maggie and Lena found themselves back at their booth, knocking back a series of shots one after another. Semi-awkward but lighthearted conversations about booze and music preferences slowly turned comfortable and fun as the good old fashioned social lubricant started hitting them hard.

Of course, this all led to drunk, flirty Maggie coming out in force and trying to get a rise or two out of less relaxed Lena. Which, well, even two sheets to the wind, Luthor still had admirable levels of control and poise, so Maggie had to break out the big guns.

So, of course Maggie changed the topic from just music to dancing, especially as the party wore on and the floor started heating up. Lena was firmly adamant that she couldn’t really dance, at least not to the type of music the club was playing. Which, to be fair, the constantly shifting combo of jazz, salsa and samba did require a certain degree of actual chops to dance to.

Still, everyone was drunk as shit, probably wouldn’t remember any of this tomorrow, and ‘whats the point of dancing at a club if you don’t make a damn fool of yourself, eh, Lena?’ When even that didn’t work, Maggie just resorted to a series of taunting chicken noises and challenged her to see who’d could make the bigger fool of themselves with their crappy high-school taught salsa steps.

...Lena growled at her, and accepted readily, her ever competitive nature getting the best of her.

Now, Maggie will be the first to admit that she’s actually a little fucking shit. She’s also been coming to Roxanne’s for years at this point, and been interested enough to actually ask a couple of the other regulars to teach her how to salsa. So, she thinks she probably deserves the glare and sulking punch on the arm she gets when she starts slowly but effectively spinning Lena through a crash course on basic salsa dancing. However, if every now and then she spins away to go through a filthy series of steps on her own to show off, well, then that’s just her business.

Fuck off Lena. It’s not cheating. It’s just pool sharking.

Though, she guesses the CEO isn’t too ticked off, considering the absolute heat in her gaze as Maggie spins and shows off all her best assets. Especially when she has to gently manhandle the Luthor around a bit to teach her how to copy them. She may have just come from work, but Maggie knows how to make a tight fitting pair of jeans and a leather jacket work for her. The music is bouncing, the club is warm, the company is great, and the drinks are flowing readily. Right that moment, life is great in Maggie’s firm opinion.

Especially when, about two more shots of tequila later, Lena starts cursing up a storm and giving Maggie a big old middle finger. Complaints about cheaters devolve into ranting about Lena showing the ex-cop how it's done. Assurances that she totally has moves, even if they are just ones she picked up as a nigh perpetually drunk first year at college.

...Maggie feels herself practically die and go to heaven when Lena starts grinding her ass all over her. The Luthor even manages to flip her hair over her shoulder and shoot these hungry looks at Maggie the whole damn time. It’s just...unfair. Hoisted on her own petard.

Not that she’s mad.

So yeah, dancing goes pretty fucking well actually. Then they get tired and the two women end up making out in their booth for who knows how fucking long. Maggie certainly doesn't count. Especially not when nice manicured nails are pulling at her hair and sliding up her sides. Lena seems pretty damn pleased too when Maggie starts mouthing her way up and down that gorgeous, long neck. Some part of Maggie thinks she’s being a bit stupid and irresponsible, especially as her fingers start to worry at the belt of Lena’s expensive black trousers. She tells that voice to shut the fuck up though, as she hasn’t had this much fun in goddamn ages.

So, as she does, Roxy takes that moment exactly to stop by with a spray bottle and spritz them down like a couple of inconsiderate cats in heat. When they squawk and pull apart, the older barkeep just huffs about “the bitch being on the loose again” and drops off a giant bottle of water to ward off the hangover.

Dear Lord, her friends are assholes...but she does kinda love them.

Things take a bit of a step back from there, at least for a while. The tension in between them by no means cools off, nor do they stop sending alternatively flirty and suggestive looks to each other every now and then. Things just get put on simmer for a bit while actual conversation starts up again. This is around when the proposed shouting about the unfairness of the world starts up again.

Lena, perhaps surprisingly, is the one who gets the worst case of sad-drunk emotional spewage. In it, a lot more details of the whole story start coming out. Things like how the board justified removing her as CEO because in her whole term there was no individual period of growth quite as intense as a single quarter of Lex’s in 2008. Of course, her average growth was higher, and the reason he was able to do so well was that he’d been using his vast fortune to buy up a lot of written off land and property in full vulture capitalist style. It’s why he still had so many fucking unknown boltholes and bunkers during his various confrontations with the supers. The feds were just too busy with a giant ass recession to keep track of his financial chicanery.

“Pig fucking, stuck up, white, rich, asshole, cishet men! Who needs em!” Maggie shouts.

Then of course comes the details of the whole emotional explosion henceforth called the reveal. As much as it would be amusing to say she damn called it, she can’t really because the sobbing pretty girl in her lap just is too cute and sad to tease. Apparently, Kara getting up the gumption to actually talk to Lena had been spoiled by Lex. Said pig fucking asshole brother apparently had cancer, and wanted her to work on a cure for him. As she was hesitating between whatever residual bitter love she might have for him and her good sense, Lex had decided to add an extra incentive. To goad her famous irish temper, he’d revealed the whole “Kara is supergirl” thing and argued how she should just love to help out her loving brother get revenge on the awful alien liars.

...yeah, everything just kinda started spiralling from there.

Only, of course, as luck would have it, a presidential pardon came in just a week later. Lex was free to consult with a great many more legitimate scientists on the issue, many of whom had more specifically studied cancer therapies than Lena, who was more of a generalist. Thus, no need for Lena. Oh, by the way the board has called a meeting on Monday. Buh bye little sis, have your shit cleaned out of my office by Friday and give me back the keys to the penthouse. Fuck off and see you later!

So, of course the logical Luthor response was to bottle it all up for weeks. Which of course led to her exploding on Kara when she revealed herself, and flouncing out of National City in a puff of drama and hurt feelings. Changed phone number and all.

...Maggie just tries to give the damn girl the biggest hug she can and ignore the tears and snot staining her jacket. She gets it. That toxic love for shit family that lingers like the stench of forgotten garbage. The constant worry that nobody really likes you for you. The need to just get away and start over without all the mess.

She gets it.

(Lena’s tears aren’t the only ones that stain her jacket)

This all gets pretty exhausting and emotional, and even Maggie is letting out a stray tear here and there as they rant and curse the world’s cruelty. So, rather than just wallowing the rest of the night away, Maggie orders them a shot for the road and decides they need another distraction.

Naturally, they find themselves at a really great hipster belgian fry shop down the block 20 minutes later. Maggie rather easily wheedles Lena into jettisoning the whole healthy diet idea. Soon both of them are happily collapsed on a shitty park bench in a shitty run-down city park eating mounds of heavily overpriced potatoes, mushroom gravy and vegan cheese.

...It’s a pretty perfect moment actually.

Both women are far too tired and drunk to actually sit up fully straight, so of course they end up leaning on each other. The night is chilly but blessedly dry and the warmth of each other's body staves off the worst of it. A confusing mish mash of different club songs reverberate out of the poorly insulated walls of the surrounding bars to echo through the park. Sad crying turns into nostalgic remembrance of all the good times they had in National City. You now, back in the innocent, halcyon, days when things weren’t quite so shit as they are now. Maggie has a good cry about Alex, but is still pretty firmly in the “looking back on it, it was good we ended it there because we wouldn’t have worked longer term” camp. Still, thinking of the good things is that strange, perfect mix of bittersweet that makes her regret and think ‘what if.’

From the sounds of it, Lena is rapidly approaching a similar enough headspace about Kara. The hurt and rage seems to have boiled out of her, and what's left is just...sad acceptance that this is how the world is now. Which, unfortunately, is pretty sad given that Lena still has a whole mess of feelings for Kara, even if she has no where to direct them at the moment.

Some time later, the fries are done and their eyes are drooping with exhaustion but neither is at all ready for the night to actually end. So of course Lena just has to suggest they have a few “extra drinks before we part ways” at her place. Maggie can’t help but agree, because hell, in this headspace she’ll take about just any excuse to stay around this adorable, sad, inspiring, frustrating, hot as fuck woman. Lena calls a fancy driver and they both end up cuddling together in the back seat. Slowly hands wander as they tend to, and heartbeats pick up again as they are both stuck in a confined space with a very attractive partner and no further distractions.

Naturally they barely make it past Lena’s front hallway before they’ve pounced on each other. Sloppy, drunk but altogether enthusiastic fingers are groping up and down each other’s sides. Lena’s got a stupid kissable smirk on her face as her hand fists painfully in Maggie’s hair. The ex-cop finds herself rucked up against the wall, with Lena’s hot red lips against hers and their tongues battling for her dominance by their teeth. Maggie growls and presses herself forward so her body slots up against the long, hot length of Lena. The ex-cop has to smirk at the way Lena’s breath stutters to a stop when Maggie’s well muscled leg slots in between her legs and presses up into her crotch.

Lena takes a moment before growling back and slaps Maggie ass, hard, firmly maintaining control of the scene.

Now, Maggie may not really be submissive in bed, but she finds this whole situation hot as fucking hell, so she allows it. Grudgingly.

...Okay fine. It’s hot as all hell and she feels her cunt clench as she whimpers enthusiastically at the very pleasing mix of pleasure and pain. .

Still, she absolutely refuses to just sit there and take it, so instead she puts her hands to work carefully popping open buttons, prying off jackets and popping open belt buckles. The bra’s are of course the worst. It’s seriously awkward to pry one open while drunk and having your throat and neck ravaged by a hot lady, but she manages.

You know, after a try or two. Lena is fucking distracting alright? She’s also wearing an amazingly pretty lacy purple lingerie number that is so not work appropriate. Sheesh Lena. Give a girl a heart attack why don’t you?

So then they’re both naked as fuck, hot, wet and ready. Lena orders Maggie to her knees. Which, fine, that’s hot as fuck, but Maggie still grumbles anyway if only out of general principle. It’s not like she’s going to actually complain when a leg is hooked over her shoulder and Lena’s weight crushes her against the wall. After all, her nose is buried in thin, well trimmed curls and filled with the sweet, musky scent of Lena. Hot, wet heat presses down over her every sense and nothing in the world seems to matter to Maggie beyond drinking as much of it down as possible. Not even the strong, grounding fingers stuck firmly in her hair instructing her about just what to do.

Nature takes its normal course, and Maggie is met with the surprising, wonderful, amazing, groundbreaking discovery that Lena is both a screamer, and a gusher. Her entire face is wet and sore and Maggie is so, so turned on it’s not even funny. As you might imagine, the ex-cop is feeling pretty damn smug when she has to grab and support her suddenly unsteady Luthor to the ground for a lovely post-orgasmic cuddle.

Lena, as the totally fucking extra bitch she has to be, proves she is also multi-orgasmic with a very, very, short refractory period.

...Maggie whimpers with an interesting combination of fear, wonder, elation and sheer horniness.

They find themselves in an expensive bedroom with amazingly comfortable silk sheets and a gorgeous view of the Star City skyline. A bit of now, substantially less urgent fumbling by the bedside brings out a lovely strapon. They fight a bit over who gets to use it on who at first, but since hey, it’s Lena’s strap on, her rules, Maggie gives in like the gracious cunt she is.

The ex-cop has no such compunctions about flipping the Luthor onto her back however. After all, Luthor is just too fucking pretty not to see with her hair all spread out and mussed across the sheets. Plus, when Maggie grabs her wrists tightly and shoves herself down onto Lena’s strapped cock the whiny noises she makes are just too fucking cute. It takes a little while to find a comfortable rhythm in their tequila soaked haze, but when they find it, oh shit is it good. Maggie’s is vigorously slamming herself onto the strap on, fucking herself hard with a great angle on her gspot. After some experimentation she manages to also grind the strap on down straight into Lena’s clit, because she’s just awesome like that. This all has the CEO writhing and whimpering below her in the absolute best way, so Maggie is even more smug than usual.

Plus, hey, the whole time Lena’s wandering mouth is biting and exploring Maggie like the woman is on a damn mission.Which is totally hot as hell.

As you might imagine the night ends fairly...explosively not too long after that. Cleaning up seems like far, far too much work so Maggie and Lena just happily pass out cuddled up to each other. Warm, happy and very satisfied.

Life is perfect, just for one night.