Title: You Grew and Became Like the Devil Himself
Author: snarkysweetness
Rating: NC-17
Pairing: Bobbi Morse/Lance Hunter
Summary: Bobbi glanced up from where she'd been studying a case report on her desk and didn't bother to lower her weapon. Lance could stand there, leaning against her doorframe like he was the second coming of Casanova if he wanted to get shot or he could leave her the hell alone; his choice.
Warnings: Hate-fucking with mild-angst.
Disclaimer: I own nothing.
Author's Notes: Yeah I know we haven't seen Bobbi yet but I really want her to be his ex-wife because it works and Lance is clearly still hung up on his ex, so they have to introduce her eventually and yeah man, embrace these two sassy assholes who hate each other yet can't stay away. I'm not sure what to call the ship yet except Huntingbird and please tell me if you come up with something better because yes, I'll take it. I wanted to call this 'fuck you' but since ffn doesn't allow that I decided to just settle for taking a lyric from Archive's 'fuck u' which is a great song to listen to while reading this, just saying. Anyway, onto the hate fucking.
"You really had me going there, love."
Bobbi glanced up from where she'd been studying a case report on her desk and didn't bother to lower her weapon. Lance could stand there, leaning against her doorframe like he was the second coming of Casanova if he wanted to get shot or he could leave her the hell alone; his choice.
"Go away." She kept her gun aimed on him but turned her attention back to the file on her desk, flipping through it. If he took one step forward she was shooting him, Coulson could yell all he wanted, it would be worth it.
"I think the boss would frown upon you committing spousal homicide, love; just because we're fugitives doesn't mean we have to resort to murder."
"Not married anymore, Hunter."
"Technicalities, love; look at Coulson and his second, they're still friendly. For a woman who lives to hold a grudge she gets on well with her ex-husband, why can't you be more like her?"
"What do you want?" She had a million things she'd rather do than speak to him. She'd rather spend another mission cramped in the back of a van with her first ex-husband and his new lover than speak to him. Hell, if she could do Budapest all over again minus his presence she would. Lance Hunter was a pain in her ass and one she'd like to be rid of. Coulson had failed to mention he'd convinced him to come back when they discussed pulling her out of her cover, if he had she would have stayed with Hydra; at least the company was better.
"Just to talk." He took one step forward and she cocked her gun in warning. He held his hands up. "Fine, I'll stay here then."
"Shouldn't you be off selling your friends out for money," she muttered and immediately mentally kicked herself. That was her problem when it came to him: she always had to have the final word.
She didn't have to look up to see the smirk on his face.
"You could be sore about that, love, but I have every right to be sore right back. All this time I thought you'd jumped ship, abandoned the good guys for a better paycheck and a fancy office when really you were just running a job. How do you think that makes me feel, love?"
Bobbi lowered her gun so it was now aimed at the only part of his body she still enjoyed. "I don't care, Hunter."
He smirked. "You know, the last time we saw each other you were screaming 'Lance' at the top of your-" Her finger twitched and he pushed away from the doorframe. "Fine, you're still a bloody lunatic, you know that?"
Now she was the one smirking. "Your point? I thought that was why you married me?"
"No, I married you because you're a lunatic in the bedroom; I divorced you because you're a bloody madwoman."
She rolled her eyes. She didn't bother to point out she was the one who'd left him because if she did he'd never leave.
"You have thirty seconds before I pull the trigger, I'm not in the mood for your shit tonight, Lance; I need a stiff drink and my pillow not to watch you spill man-tears." The first thing she'd done upon arriving at the base was wash as much of the Hydra off of her as she could. It would be weeks before she felt like herself again, she'd been under too long, but it was worth it. They'd managed to save dozens of the students Hydra had forced into joining their ranks before Simmons had inadvertently broken their cover trying to save the Gill boy. She was glad to be…well, it wasn't home but it was familiar.
"I'm going to ignore pointing out that I have something stiff I'd like to give you-"
"Lance," she warned. He had a scar on his back that proved she would in fact pull the trigger.
"You know, you could have told me! It's not like I'd bloody say anything, Barbara! Do you know what…" She caught him running a hand over his face from the corner of her eye and she sighed, knowing this was inevitable. She released the magazine and tossed her gun aside; Coulson would indeed be pissed if she got blood on his floors.
Bobbi stood and moved to sit on the edge of her desk. She held her arms out in a gesture that said 'fine, speak'.
Lance gave her that 'look', the one he always gave her when she returned from a mission and fucking Clint told him all about whatever unnecessary risks she'd taken (so she liked to go off-book sometimes). She really fucking hated it when those two ganged up on her.
He entered her room and slammed the door angrily. She resisted the urge to roll her eyes and braced herself for his speech.
"You know this was Izzy's room? Remember Izzy? She was the one who recruited me into this mess and the reason I wasted five years of my life pretending you were marriage material." Bobbi crossed her arms, not in the mood to hear about what a terrible wife she was. "You know…I was never cut out for this, I know that, and I know Fury tried to make it work with S.T.R.I.K.E. but when you left you didn't just destroy me, Bobbi, you broke Izzy's heart. She loved you like a daughter and then with no warning you just up and quit to 'freelance' and then we get wind you've defected to Hydra?
She died thinking you were a traitor, you know that?"
Now she hugged her arms to her chest and had to look away. She didn't need to hear about Izzy or Victoria or Idaho or any of the people she'd loved who were gone. She dealt with that pain every day and she didn't need him to throw it in her face.
"I had a job, Lance, not that you'd know anything about-"
"Oh stop, will you? You left first. I couldn't….I always worked better on my own, you know that."
That was an understatement.
"So why are you here, then? You don't play well with others; you don't like taking orders; so why are you suddenly committed to this?"
He stared at her with his kicked puppy look and she scoffed. "No, you don't get to do this, Lance. I cannot be the reason you're here."
"You're not, but…I admit it's an advantage.
I've lost my entire family to this damn war between S.H.I.E.L.D. and Hydra, I'm not going anywhere. They gave their lives for this so I'll do that job, love; because doing it means they didn't die in vain. And…" he shrugged, "I'm finally starting to see why Clint never shut up about Coulson. He's a good man, the kind I don't mind taking orders from, frankly."
He stepped closer and she went on alert. He would never hurt her but he had a way of getting her to drop her panties and she wasn't doing it, not this time. She couldn't work and live in the same base with him if she let him win; she really would have to kill him if they went there.
"I just…" he sighed. "Bobbi." Her name fell from his lips like a prayer and she closed her eyes, cursing him. It was really inconvenient to have an ex-husband who was still completely in love with you when you wanted to hate him. She hated him as much as she still loved him and it made her hate herself too.
Lance Hunter was like a goddamn disease.
He took another step closer and met his eyes with a glare. "Don't."
"I keep thinking about what I'd do if you'd never made it out of that base and it's killing me. You're the only family I have left and I can't bear the thought that you could have died and I would never know why. I don't bloody care if there isn't a piece of paper that says I'm yours anymore, little bird, you're still my wife and I'm never going to fucking stop loving you."
Why in the hell did he always have to ruin things by getting sappy on her?
"Is that all?"
Hurt flashed in his eyes but he nodded.
"Good, now leave. There are plenty of other women you can harass tonight."
"But I'd much rather harass you."
Bobbi rolled her eyes. "Goodnight, Lance."
"You know, if I'd given anyone else that speech they'd be on their backs-" Bobbi shoved him away with a smile. That was the Lance she preferred, the sassy little shit she could hate without feeling guilty. He chuckled and leaned in to kiss her cheek. "You know you love me, Bobbi, when you stop fighting it, I'll be waiting. Lord knows we could both use a good shag."
She knew he'd meant to be cheeky, he was trying to leave her on good terms, but the moment they were within three inches of one-another they were no longer intelligent adults; it was one of their many problems.
"I do hope you and your hand have a good night, then," Bobbi quipped. He needed to move away from her now before she did something she'd regret, like kiss him or fuck him or even worse; tell him she loved him.
Lance was already gone. He had that douchebag, sex-god look in his eyes and they were currently focused in on her cleavage. He slid one hand up her thigh while slowly pressing against her until she was pinned underneath him on her desk. Her fingers itched for her gun but they ended up curled around the edge of the wood instead.
"I'm going to kiss you now, love, unless you stop me," he whispered as he moved his gaze back to her face. "But we both know you won't." He gave her a shit-eating grin and she wanted to claw it right off of him because the fucking bastard was right, he always was. So instead of letting him win she grabbed him by the collar and pulled him into an angry kiss. He returned it eagerly and she made sure to bite him hard enough to draw blood, just to hurt him.
They really had to stop doing this. The last thing she needed was to wind up married to him all over again because he'd fucked the sense out of her again.
"This doesn't change anything, I still fucking hate you," she growled as he ripped her shorts off.
"You say that every time, love; maybe if you weren't so mean I'd make this last longer."
"Fuck you," she muttered as she clawed his back. He hissed and cursed, whining about how she'd regret that later. She wasn't in the mood for his talk; if he wanted to fuck her then he was going to do it here and now on this desk and get it over with. She didn't have time for words or foreplay; she saved that for one-night stands. Anything longer than a quick fuck with him was dangerous because it always ended with him talking about his feelings and she was feeling vulnerable enough to slip-up and no one needed that. They were bad for each other and they both knew it and while she did her best to stay away he fed off of their toxic relationship and always followed her around for more. It'd be pathetic if she wasn't just as into it as he was.
Lance bit into her neck and were she not pinned down by his weight she would kick him. The bastard knew she had a rule about him marking her like she was his goddamn property. That shit didn't sit well with her when they'd been married and it sure as hell wasn't going to fly now.
"Fuck you," she repeated, angrier this time as her hands went for his belt.
"Don't worry, baby, give me five-"
"Don't fucking call me-" Lance grabbed her roughly by the hair and pressed his mouth to hers, cutting her off.
"You fucking bastard," she spat into his mouth. She wanted to keep being angry but moments later she was kissing him back and moaning and goddammit this man had a fine mouth. If she could keep him from using it to talk she'd demand he get on his knees but just the thought of his cocky grin and the way he'd prattle on about it afterwards made her shove his pants down to free his cock; she wanted to get this over with so she could send him on his merry way and she could sleep easier after a good orgasm.
Lance drew his teeth over her bottom lip and she whimpered. "I love you too, sweetheart," he whispered, moving his mouth back to her neck. That fucking bastard was going to get a swift kick in the nuts if she saw him in the gym tomorrow. She opened her mouth to demand he stop with that bullshit right now when he pushed into her without warning.
"Fuck, Lance, a little warning nex-Jesus." Bobbi dug her fingernails into his ass and hoped she drew blood but right now she didn't care enough to yell at him. She couldn't remember the last time she'd fucked anyone nor when she'd had it this good.
Oh, who was she kidding, he had been the last person she'd fucked and it was always good. Hell, more than good; it was mind-blowing. Sex so good a girl completely lost her ability to fight the knowledge that it was a mistake. Though, as much as she hated to admit it, she never felt that filthy, used feeling when they were done the way she felt with anyone else.
God she hated him.
"Come on, love, feel free to be a little louder," he encouraged in a condescending tone.
He was such a fucking shit asshole sometimes.
"Just get on with it, Hunter; I don't have all fucking-fuck, fuck, fuck, Lance."
This was why she'd married him; those damn fingers and his knowledge of the clitoris.
Bobbi buried her face in his neck and tried not to give him what he wanted by screaming his name but he was making it damn near impossible not to.
He sent her careening over the edge quickly as she'd requested and the moment it hit she regretted not begging that he make it last longer; her damn pride was a stubborn bitch.
"Bobbi, Bobbi, Bobbi," he praised as he buried himself inside of her. Bobbi closed her eyes and gave in as another orgasm built.
Her mouth found his and she shifted beneath him so she could re-angle their bodies. Lance hissed and lost his hold on her for a moment before he pulled her closer and fucked her harder, more frantically, desperate to get off.
Bobbi slid her hands over his back and ran them over his head before finding that small spot on his neck with her mouth that drove him crazy.
"God-fucking-dammit, woman!" He cried as she broke skin with her teeth. In her defense it was his fault; she hadn't meant to bite him but when her second orgasm hit she'd lost control.
Not that it mattered, a little pain seemed to be what he needed to finish. He spilled into her while showering her face and neck with kisses and she wrapped her legs around his waist to pull him closer as he slowed to a stop.
"Bobbi," he whispered as she cupped his face with her hands.
"Shh, I know," she replied, pulling him down for a proper kiss.
He was such a fucking emotional wreck after; every damn time.
"I love you."
This was when she should kick him out. Throw her clothes back on, avoid his eyes, and mumble something about how it was good but now he needed to go. But he was just so…not pathetic, no he was fucking broken. She couldn't imagine what he'd been through in the past year, losing Vic and then Iz and Idaho in the same day.
Bobbi Morse was a downright cunt when she needed to be but she wasn't a heartless bitch.
"I know, baby." Bobbi held him against her chest and massaged the back of his neck lightly. "I'm sorry, Lance, I know…I miss them too."
She held him while he cried, knowing he probably hadn't allowed himself to break down yet and she knew her man; when he kept shit bottled in he turned destructive. He was a downright bastard but she still loved him and she was not going to let him destroy himself because he was grieving.
"I'm sorry," he said as he pulled away and she knew they were done. He turned away from her to wipe at his eyes, embarrassed and she hopped off the desk. She ignored the mess sliding down her thigh as searched for her discarded shorts and panties. He never bothered to wear a condom and she never stopped him; they had an unspoken desire for an accident to happen. It was a testament to how fucked up their relationship was: a kid would be the only thing that would get them to stop fighting for more than five minutes and bring them back together.
Sometimes she wished she'd fought harder for Clint, maybe then she wouldn't have fallen for this sassy British asshole. Or maybe she would have done it anyway and ruined poor Clint.
He was better off without her; she was a human disaster when it came to love.
"Thanks for the shag, love, I guess I'll-"
Bobbi took hold of his arm and stepped closer when he reluctantly turned to her. She moved to her toes and pressed her mouth to his for a brief moment. "I love you too, you insufferable pain in the ass," she whispered as she placed a hand on his cheek. "And I don't care how angry I am with you, if you need…" she swallowed her words, knowing she had to be choosy with them. "Whenever it's too much, you find me, Lance. I don't care if it's the middle of the goddamn night, don't run off and do something stupid; I'd much rather we do something stupid together than you running off to get killed."
To his credit the smirk he gave her wasn't even smug. "See, I knew you liked me, love."
Bobbi rolled her eyes and shoved him out the door. "Goodnight, Lance."
"I'll see you in the morning, love. And wear those black lace things I like, yes? I plant to rip them off with my teeth when you come crawling into my bed begging for it tomorrow night."
"Fuck off."
"Soon, love."
Bobbi slammed the door in his face with a huff.
Fucking asshole.