Fics: Graceland, Agents of SHIELD/Arrow
Fandom: Graceland
Summary: For this prompt at comment-fic on lj: Charlie/Paul/Mike, she likes to watch them. With dominant!Briggs and implied dominant!Charlie.
Fic:
Paul and Mike thought of themselves as opposites.
Charlie knew better.
They were both naturals at undercover work. Intelligent, always aware. Perceptive as hell, able to read into a glance, a slight tensing of muscle, able to discover truths about people that they may not even know themselves.
They were also both stubborn as hell, always refusing to give an inch.
And maybe these traits were something Charlie shared too. Just a little.
It's why they kept butting heads, but also why they never gave up on one another.
It’s why they worked together beautifully in the field, and even better in their bed.
Charlie loved watching the two of them together. She would observe from the armchair as they started in for the night, and they knew by now that she would only join them when she’d seen enough show. They knew that she liked to watch, of course, but they didn’t know that she had more reasons than just the obvious.
Watching the two of them together, she had observed more of them than she was ever able to when she was in the mix, when she was distracted by the hands and mouths intent on bringing her into bliss. The two men weren’t exactly open books, but when she saw them together, she could read their pleasure, their pain, their fear, their trust, even all their subtle little ways of testing each other, all the unspoken questions each had about the other man. It was a knowledge, an intimacy, that she cherished, and she was happy to delay her pleasure for a few minutes for this deeper satisfaction.
Tonight, Mike began by straddling Paul on the bed, looking down at Paul with a cocky smirk. It was his invitation for Paul to try to re-assert dominance (they all knew that’s exactly what he’d do).
Paul tugged at the bottom of Mike’s T-shirt, making Mike lean forward so Paul could peel it off, leaving both men in nothing but boxers. Paul grabbed Mike’s shoulder then, leveraging it so that Mike was thrown on his back onto the bed. Paul moved over him, straddling him while pinning his wrists to the mattress. Charlie noticed Mike’s breath hitch; she knew Paul noticed too.
Mike liked to give it back, though: he arched up to kiss Paul on the lips, hard contact and rough motions. Mike arched up then, enough to brush against Paul’s cock, and Paul got distracted (just as Mike planned, Charlie knew), and he loosened his grip on Mike’s wrist enough for Mike to break free and pull Paul down onto him, fingers clasping onto the hair on the back of Paul’s head.
Her boys did like their games.
She saw Paul smile, predatory, before kissing Mike again, forceful, tongue pushing in hard circles. She could see that Mike wasn’t aware that Paul’s hand was moving downward: Mike tensed when Paul gave his balls a quick pinch, and tried to hide how much he liked it, but all of three of them knew that he didn’t hide it well enough.
Mike’s jaw tightened then, and a look of determination swept over his face. He took Paul’s free hand and moved it to his own neck, leaving Paul’s thumb at the center of Mike’s throat. Mike knew that Paul liked having his hand there; he also knew that this was one of the few things that made Paul afraid of his own kinks, that Paul would concentrate on keeping his touch gentle. Paul, of course, knew exactly what Mike was doing, and he smiled a reluctant nod as if to say ‘Touché’ as he gently caressed Mike’s neck and jaw. Mike moved his hand to Paul’s dick then, rubbing against it, daring Paul to lessen his control, but Paul got up on his knees and grabbed Mike’s hands again. He flipped Mike over onto his stomach and held his hands behind his back.
He looked over at Charlie then. “Hey, sweetheart. Our boy’s feeling rebellious. Let’s teach him who’s in charge. How’s that sound, Mikey?”
Mike looked up at Charlie and smiled. “Sounds pretty good,” he said with a breathless smile.
Charlie just smiled and nodded. She rose from the chair and walked slowly over to the bed, peeling off her tank top as she walked, keeping their gaze on her. She climbed onto the bed then and kissed Paul, then Mike, slow and heated.
“Why do you have that look?” Mike asked her then.
“What look?”
“That look like you know something we don’t,” Paul answered for him.
She just smiled, wide and hungry. “Don’t be ridiculous. I always know something you don’t.”
Fandom: Agents of SHIELD/Arrow
Summary: Pre-series, Agent Melinda May's job is to bring in the captured League Assassin. But the assassin's not what the Agent expects. Pre-Series.
Fic:
It happened when Agent May was transporting the prisoner to a higher-security facility. HYDRA agents were after her again, still upset over that little incident when Melinda left eight of them duct-taped to the outside wall of a police station.
This time, though, she wasn’t expecting them. She came within a fraction of a second of taking a shot to the head.
Luckily, her prisoner had spotted the sniper and pulled her to the ground.
Her deadly, villainous, League of Assassins prisoner.
Backup arrived soon after, and soon the HYDRA agents were on the run.
“Thanks,” Melinda said warily, giving the woman a hand up. “But you know I still have to bring you in.”
“It’s okay. I figured.”
Agent May stared at her for a moment, then gestured for them to get moving.
A few minutes before they arrived at the facility, May turned to her. “You could switch teams, you know,” May said.
Sara gave her a little smirk.
“I mean, you could ally yourself with SHIELD.”
“Yeah. SHIELD’s going to recruit an assassin who works for SHIELD’s enemies,” the woman said, a bitter hint of a laugh.
“I’ve heard of it, actually.” Okay, not often. But it happened at least once, with Romanov, who was now one of SHIELD’s most respected agents.
“What makes you think I’d want to?”
Melinda hesitated. Then: “You were fast back there. Too fast for it to be calculation. It had to be instinct.”
“You think so?” the woman said. She sounded … mournful.
“Yeah. I do. If I had been shot, you could have gotten away. You put my life above your escape without thinking. I’ve seen you in action. I know you’re good. But maybe you’re not really cut out to be an assassin.”
Melinda waited for the counterargument, for the woman to sneer and laugh and accuse her of being naïve, for her to snap that she loved blood and blade more than anything, and the usual nonsense that she would expect from a League true believer.
Instead, the woman’s jaw clenched. She looked like Melinda had broken something in her and she was just trying to keep it from falling.
Finally, she smiled at Melinda, sad. “Here’s what’s going to happen, Agent May. You’re going to deliver me to the facility. By the end of the week, someone will break me out, and then I’m back to work. That’s happening. And there’s nothing either of us can do about it.”
“Either of us?” Melinda asked.
The woman looked away.
They walked quietly the rest of the way.
Right before Melinda handed her over, the woman said, “What you said to me? About what I’m cut out for?”
“Yeah?”
“Hearing that, it’s only going to make it harder for me.”
Melinda stared at her for a long time. Finally: “Sorry.”
“It’s okay. I’m glad you said it.”
The woman turned away then, going with the other agent without resistance. Melinda watched them walk away, staring at the back of the woman who was plodding, tired, toward a cage. Right before they turned the corner, the woman looked back at Melinda, neither a smile nor a frown, and for a second all Melinda could think was that she looked so young.
Summary: For this prompt at comment-fic on lj: Charlie/Paul/Mike, she likes to watch them. With dominant!Briggs and implied dominant!Charlie.
Fic:
Paul and Mike thought of themselves as opposites.
Charlie knew better.
They were both naturals at undercover work. Intelligent, always aware. Perceptive as hell, able to read into a glance, a slight tensing of muscle, able to discover truths about people that they may not even know themselves.
They were also both stubborn as hell, always refusing to give an inch.
And maybe these traits were something Charlie shared too. Just a little.
It's why they kept butting heads, but also why they never gave up on one another.
It’s why they worked together beautifully in the field, and even better in their bed.
Charlie loved watching the two of them together. She would observe from the armchair as they started in for the night, and they knew by now that she would only join them when she’d seen enough show. They knew that she liked to watch, of course, but they didn’t know that she had more reasons than just the obvious.
Watching the two of them together, she had observed more of them than she was ever able to when she was in the mix, when she was distracted by the hands and mouths intent on bringing her into bliss. The two men weren’t exactly open books, but when she saw them together, she could read their pleasure, their pain, their fear, their trust, even all their subtle little ways of testing each other, all the unspoken questions each had about the other man. It was a knowledge, an intimacy, that she cherished, and she was happy to delay her pleasure for a few minutes for this deeper satisfaction.
Tonight, Mike began by straddling Paul on the bed, looking down at Paul with a cocky smirk. It was his invitation for Paul to try to re-assert dominance (they all knew that’s exactly what he’d do).
Paul tugged at the bottom of Mike’s T-shirt, making Mike lean forward so Paul could peel it off, leaving both men in nothing but boxers. Paul grabbed Mike’s shoulder then, leveraging it so that Mike was thrown on his back onto the bed. Paul moved over him, straddling him while pinning his wrists to the mattress. Charlie noticed Mike’s breath hitch; she knew Paul noticed too.
Mike liked to give it back, though: he arched up to kiss Paul on the lips, hard contact and rough motions. Mike arched up then, enough to brush against Paul’s cock, and Paul got distracted (just as Mike planned, Charlie knew), and he loosened his grip on Mike’s wrist enough for Mike to break free and pull Paul down onto him, fingers clasping onto the hair on the back of Paul’s head.
Her boys did like their games.
She saw Paul smile, predatory, before kissing Mike again, forceful, tongue pushing in hard circles. She could see that Mike wasn’t aware that Paul’s hand was moving downward: Mike tensed when Paul gave his balls a quick pinch, and tried to hide how much he liked it, but all of three of them knew that he didn’t hide it well enough.
Mike’s jaw tightened then, and a look of determination swept over his face. He took Paul’s free hand and moved it to his own neck, leaving Paul’s thumb at the center of Mike’s throat. Mike knew that Paul liked having his hand there; he also knew that this was one of the few things that made Paul afraid of his own kinks, that Paul would concentrate on keeping his touch gentle. Paul, of course, knew exactly what Mike was doing, and he smiled a reluctant nod as if to say ‘Touché’ as he gently caressed Mike’s neck and jaw. Mike moved his hand to Paul’s dick then, rubbing against it, daring Paul to lessen his control, but Paul got up on his knees and grabbed Mike’s hands again. He flipped Mike over onto his stomach and held his hands behind his back.
He looked over at Charlie then. “Hey, sweetheart. Our boy’s feeling rebellious. Let’s teach him who’s in charge. How’s that sound, Mikey?”
Mike looked up at Charlie and smiled. “Sounds pretty good,” he said with a breathless smile.
Charlie just smiled and nodded. She rose from the chair and walked slowly over to the bed, peeling off her tank top as she walked, keeping their gaze on her. She climbed onto the bed then and kissed Paul, then Mike, slow and heated.
“Why do you have that look?” Mike asked her then.
“What look?”
“That look like you know something we don’t,” Paul answered for him.
She just smiled, wide and hungry. “Don’t be ridiculous. I always know something you don’t.”
Fandom: Agents of SHIELD/Arrow
Summary: Pre-series, Agent Melinda May's job is to bring in the captured League Assassin. But the assassin's not what the Agent expects. Pre-Series.
Fic:
It happened when Agent May was transporting the prisoner to a higher-security facility. HYDRA agents were after her again, still upset over that little incident when Melinda left eight of them duct-taped to the outside wall of a police station.
This time, though, she wasn’t expecting them. She came within a fraction of a second of taking a shot to the head.
Luckily, her prisoner had spotted the sniper and pulled her to the ground.
Her deadly, villainous, League of Assassins prisoner.
Backup arrived soon after, and soon the HYDRA agents were on the run.
“Thanks,” Melinda said warily, giving the woman a hand up. “But you know I still have to bring you in.”
“It’s okay. I figured.”
Agent May stared at her for a moment, then gestured for them to get moving.
A few minutes before they arrived at the facility, May turned to her. “You could switch teams, you know,” May said.
Sara gave her a little smirk.
“I mean, you could ally yourself with SHIELD.”
“Yeah. SHIELD’s going to recruit an assassin who works for SHIELD’s enemies,” the woman said, a bitter hint of a laugh.
“I’ve heard of it, actually.” Okay, not often. But it happened at least once, with Romanov, who was now one of SHIELD’s most respected agents.
“What makes you think I’d want to?”
Melinda hesitated. Then: “You were fast back there. Too fast for it to be calculation. It had to be instinct.”
“You think so?” the woman said. She sounded … mournful.
“Yeah. I do. If I had been shot, you could have gotten away. You put my life above your escape without thinking. I’ve seen you in action. I know you’re good. But maybe you’re not really cut out to be an assassin.”
Melinda waited for the counterargument, for the woman to sneer and laugh and accuse her of being naïve, for her to snap that she loved blood and blade more than anything, and the usual nonsense that she would expect from a League true believer.
Instead, the woman’s jaw clenched. She looked like Melinda had broken something in her and she was just trying to keep it from falling.
Finally, she smiled at Melinda, sad. “Here’s what’s going to happen, Agent May. You’re going to deliver me to the facility. By the end of the week, someone will break me out, and then I’m back to work. That’s happening. And there’s nothing either of us can do about it.”
“Either of us?” Melinda asked.
The woman looked away.
They walked quietly the rest of the way.
Right before Melinda handed her over, the woman said, “What you said to me? About what I’m cut out for?”
“Yeah?”
“Hearing that, it’s only going to make it harder for me.”
Melinda stared at her for a long time. Finally: “Sorry.”
“It’s okay. I’m glad you said it.”
The woman turned away then, going with the other agent without resistance. Melinda watched them walk away, staring at the back of the woman who was plodding, tired, toward a cage. Right before they turned the corner, the woman looked back at Melinda, neither a smile nor a frown, and for a second all Melinda could think was that she looked so young.