I don't know about you, but I felt that there was untapped chemistry between Daisy and Dr. Wells after S9Ep10. They're both a little irritating in an endearing way, and I figured someone else had to share my need for some Wells/Wick smut, so here you go! A completely unnecessary and kind of strange one-shot that no one asked for!
How it happened was a bit of a blur; rather, it was just not important in this moment. Her body was pressed against his own, and his excitement at the prospect of a real connection overshot any expectation of sexual gratification.
A casual after-work gathering at the Founding Fathers had taken a very unusual turn when the two of them were the only ones left. Ms. Wick began discussing her recent sexual mishaps. She continued on and on about how she wished she could entertain a simultaneously intelligent and physically appealing man. It was as if the unspoken invitation was dangling midair. But, for as many degrees as Dr. Wells had procured, the art of reading between the lines was never quite understood.
Her tiny form was very misleading; she was nothing if not controlling and bossy, both in and out of the lab. Her otherwise perfect ponytail was skewed to the left, which was quickly remedied by a tug of her hair tie. A little streak of pink lipstick was smudged across her chin, and most likely his own.
"You taste like sugar," he remarked. He drew this thumb across her chin to wipe the imperfection away.
"What can I say? I'm sweet," she giggled, continuing her war against his clothing.
"Completely expected," he scoffed, "you consume a ridiculous amount of sugar."
"Complaining?" she smirked, pushing down his trousers. She slipped on a condom, tossing the wrapper somewhere or the other.
It was unlike Dr. Wells to feel flustered, but he'd have to make an exception for this. More than anything, it was unlike Dr. Wells to let someone else have the upper hand.
"Ms. Wick, as with most things, I think you'll find I'm exceptionally skilled, so perhaps I..." he cut himself off with a gasp, the sensation of her tongue on his shaft pleasing. "It seems you're equally skilled, Ms. Wick -"
"More skilled," she corrected. He was about to protest, but her head bobbed down his full length, coming up slowly as his head tilted back to try and mask his reaction from her. He was doing a poor job of it based on her snicker.
She continued to move her mouth up and down his shaft at a maddeningly slow speed. His muscles felt frozen; he couldn't move to stop it, it was too pleasurable, but he couldn't bring himself to touch her or aid in her task. She looked up at him, unexpectedly catching his eye as he breathed roughly, enamored with this strange young woman.
"Say it." His eyes screwed shut as she slowed herself even further, switching over to her hands.
"Say what?" he huffed through barred teeth. Much more of this and he'd go insane.
"Say I'm better than you," she replied in a saccharine tone. He could almost feel her cruel lips quirking into a smile.
"Ms. Wick, this is neither the time nor place for -" he was cut off by himself. She wasn't letting this go. "That's very vague, if we were to unbiasedly gauge the intelligence between us, I would likely be labeled better than -" and again. Admitting defeat would be harder than his erection. "Ms. Wick..."
"I don't want to hear anything other than praise, Oliver." Her lips touched him again, eliciting a sound of weakness he didn't much enjoy.
"Daisy," he moaned, surprising both of them. It was unlike Dr. Wells to be informal, even in this situation. She liked watching him slowly unravel.
"Just say it," she goaded, rising and pulling him towards her bed. She'd fantasized about sharing this bed with Lance, but Wells would have to suffice.
"You're..." he began, cutting off once more as she threw him down on the colorful and ridiculous looking comforter. She looked expectantly, slowly undoing her shirt. "You're superior to me." Of course he disagreed, but he was reveling in this connection and he'd do anything to prolong it. "I'm going to regret this later."
"Which part?" she giggled, relieved of her clothing and starting on what remained of his.
"Every part," he groaned, pulling her lips back to his.
Her hair cascaded around them creating a tiny curtain of privacy from the otherwise gaudy room. Her lips felt like fire, leaving a burning sensation wherever they touched. She straddled him, sitting up and throwing her hair over her shoulder. He wouldn't admit it, but he quite liked looking at her like this; unkempt and mischievous. And, maybe he would admit, he quite liked the feeling of a real interaction. Perhaps he needed to take Angela's advice more often.
As much as it made sense to think of the world in terms of tangible facts and theories, there was no way to rationalize how good it felt to connect with someone sexually. Sure, in theory it was just more motivation to reproduce, but those were just words. The feeling of actually being inside of Ms. Wick was indescribable, unlike an observable phenomenon. She felt it equally, he gathered from her pleased expression.
"You're actually quite smart," he complimented as he gently thrust, a soft moan indicating it had been well received. "When you're not sucking up to Brennan, that is." She laughed, a wonderful bell-like noise, and rose up slightly before pushing back down forcefully, his nails digging into the sheets with a gasp.
"Do tell more," she tested continuing the repetitively maddening motion. "What do you like about me?"
He thought for a moment, his brain a little hazy due to the presence of the current stimuli. "Your hair has an above average shine and general texture, which -"
"Indicates greater chance of reproductive success, sure, but I want a real compliment, Oliver, one without science-babble."
This would be difficult.
"You realize I find you absolutely infuriating, right?" he asked. She rolled her eyes. "Fine. I like your sureness."
"My sureness?" His hands met her hips, holding her still and deep for a moment. The delicious gasp she released only made it more fun.
"Your sureness," he restated, one hand migrating down to where their bodies were joined. His thumb felt around for a second before her hips unconsciously bucked. His finger circled around the area, releasing all sorts of sounds from Daisy's pretty mouth. "You were so sure of your findings when we were alone, so sure of what you wanted at the bar, so sure of your intelligence even before I supported it," he said, loving her inability to respond. Her fingers wrapped around his arms, nails digging in ever so slightly. "For fuck's sake, Daisy, you're riding me. Your sureness is something I envy."
"You're.. sure.. you're.. so.. sure.. of..."
"I'm arrogant," he corrected, "there's a difference."
She made a high pitched noise, a gasp, and her eyes clamped shut before her orgasm. Her release felt wonderful, he couldn't deny, but he wasn't finished with her. Before she could muster the energy to argue, he flipped them, severing their connection. She wrapped her arms around his neck, pulling him into a kiss that felt more meaningful than it should have.
"Somehow, all that sureness dissolves when Dr. Brennan, or Dr. Saroyan, or really anybody of higher professional status, questions you," he whispered, heart beating to the pace of her panting. He rest his forehead against hers. "You shouldn't be afraid to stand up for yourself, or stand up to them. You're smart enough to play on their level." She was almost surprised at how genuine he could be, at least when he wasn't being an ass. "Ready?" She nodded giddily.
He thrust into her once more, feeling her back arch at the familiar feeling. She thought she'd feel disappointed that he wasn't Lance, but she was pleasantly surprised at how much she enjoyed Dr. Wells. He was rough and careless, and she was loving it. With every thrust, they both got closer and more fervent. She gasped and moaned as he quickened his pace, burying his face in her shoulder as he reached completion. She quickly followed suit, her muscles tensing under his. For a moment, everything was quiet and comfortable. He rolled off of her, removing the condom and throwing it in the nearby trash bin. He sighed, beginning to realize what he'd done, and started to get up, looking for his clothes.
"Stay," she said, her hand firmly placed on his. He was caught off guard.
"Daisy, you won't want me here in the morning, it's best I -"
"You said I'm sure," she cut him off. She pulled him back down, making him turn around so they faced each other. "You're staying, and that's final."
Their heads leaned against each other's, both enjoying the closeness of the encounter. After pulling the comforter over them both, Daisy's legs snaked between his, bringing their bodies closer. It was unexpected, sure, but it had become something neither of them regretted.
"You're still infuriating," he remarked on their way to the lab.
"You're still an unlikable ass," she replied. Somehow, both of them still smiled a little.
"Dr. Wells! Ms. Wick!" the easily recognizable Camille Saroyan's voice caught up to them. They both turned with equally apprehensive faces. "I'm glad to see you both here early! I'm sorry I had to skip out so soon last night, usually we celebrate a little longer, but I trust your night ended well?" Wells snickered, Daisy glowered.
"Our night ended spectacularly, Dr. Saroyan," he replied.
"Separately," Daisy quickly added, "very separately and very soon after yours! Not that there would be any reason for it to be more spectacular than any other night, it's not like anything special or different happened -"
"It's a phrase," Wells grumbled.
"It's a dumb one," she crossed her arms.
"Okay!" Dr. Saroyan broke up the banter. "This is weird and none of my business. I'm leaving." With that, she retreated, much to her relief.
"You're terrible, you know," Daisy sighed, continuing to walk to the bone room. All he could do was smile.
"I know," he said, following her and inciting another small argument. Some things never changed.
That's it! It's been a few years since I've written fanfiction, so let me know what you think! Thanks, happy reading!