Hey all!
Back with a one-shot for you, as part of my crusade to fill the pages of FF with my DesxLucy oneshots!
I've been wanting to write a few stories that take place in Abstergo, simply because there is so much potential for sexytimes :P
Anyway, as usual lemme know what you think, read, review, and repeat!
Ubisoft owns all but my still broken heart cough Lucy cough
Stay lovely,
juno57
Update- Dec 4/12
AHHH! There were so many typos in this I died! I've gone back and fixed em– hopefully I found them all.
-dies of embarrassment
Lucy yawned sleepily and rolled over in her bed, slamming her hand down over the pitched screams of her alarm clock.
Uhhh… why does this never get any easier?
She dressed in tired silence, examining her face in the mirror with trademark feminine severity. She frowned when her hair refused to cooperate, forcing it into a bun for its stubbornness. She happened to glance at a small post-it stuck to her mirror, her heart catching in her throat as she did so.
"Shit– that's today?!"
Her fatigue was replaced with cold dread and anxiety; in her haste she ripped a hole in her pantyhose, and grudgingly realized she'd have to skip them for time's sake. She raced from her room and down the labyrinth of hallways to the elevator. She counted the seconds it took for her to reach the conference rooms on he third floor as she tapped an anxious staccato against her leg. Her breath caught as she approached room B, and she watched a few men in pristine black suits filled into the room ahead of her. She inhaled and exhaled deeply, pausing before she walked into the room.
"Ah, Miss Stillman, please sit down."
"Thank you Dr. Vidic."
He nodded curtly.
Lucy watched with caution as the men sat at the conference table in the next room, the only thing separating them being the thick bulletproof glass wall. She shuddered slightly as their faces looked up from their clipboards, and took her nervous expression in.
"Now Miss Stillman, there's no need to be worried." He sat in the chair across from her, and handed her a datapad. "You did request this after all."
She nodded, occupying her mind with the lines of instructions and guidelines cycling across the tablet. After being satisfied with the requirements and the necessary warnings, she glanced back up to the doctor's waiting face. "Yes, and I'd like to thank you again for this opportunity."
He stood solemnly, "I wouldn't be so quick to thank me– you haven't even met our… most trying subject." He turned and walked swiftly to the confrence-prep room, "I don't need to remind you, but I will anyways– what you're about to do, is both unnecessary and dangerous, please remember that. However, since you appear to be such a driven employee, and your… persistence certainly speaks for itself, we've agreed to this. We will be here for the first hour, and then we will move to our secondary research method."
Lucy nodded swiftly, her eyes darting to the abundant security cameras in the room. "Thank you. When I'm ready then?"
"Go get him." He slipped through the doors, rolling his eyes at her youthful optimism.
He sat beside the others, pulling his own clipboard out, "We'll see how long she lasts with 17."
The other men chuckled briefly, watching Lucy's retreating form.
Desmond rolled over at the sound of knuckles against his door. He frowned, not wanting to leave the only place where he could at least remain mildly comfortable.
"Morning already doc?" He sat up, smoothing his hoodie out. He raised an eyebrow as a kind-faced blonde walked into his room. His eyes roamed over her, more so out of habit, than interest. Despite her gender, Desmond was wary anything Abstergo would through at him– especially a gorgeous woman in heels.
"What? Did the good doctor get me some entertainment?" he simpered, admiring her legs.
"Uh, pardon me?" she inquired, her tone anything but offended.
Sounds a little naïve for an Abstergo drone…
"Who are you?"
Her eyes briefly flitted down to her datapad, and Desmond cocked his head out of curiosity.
"I'm Luc– uh Miss Stillman." Her expression falling slightly.
"Lucy–"
"Its Miss Stillman. You must be subject 17?"
Desmond rolled his eyes, "Oh no, I'm actually in charge of this shit-house."
"Please, if you mind," she stammered, searching the tablet, "Uh.. we need to get you into the Animus, so if you–"
Desmond snatched the datapad from her, placing behind his back with a wry grin.
Lucy's face in itself was enough to make him burst out laughing.
"Excuse me– what do you think you're doing?!"
"What? Can't manage things without your script?" he smirked at the frustration tugging at her features.
"I'm going to need you to give that back, 17." Her voice failed to remain stable.
"Desmond– and I'm sorry, I happen to be enjoying this a bit too much to give it back. It's sorta warm, feels good against all the knots in my back."
Lucy's mouth twitched, "If you give it back, maybe I can see about getting some muscle relaxants."
"What? No massage? And here I thought Abstergo had all the perks."
"That's completely out of the question Desm– 17." She paused, challenging him with her gaze. After a few uncomfortable minutes she finally caved, "Would you give it back if I arranged for a massage?"
"If it's one with you." He winked, enjoying the expression her face contorted into.
"Excuse me?"
"You heard me. You look like you'd be good with your hands."
"I can't– I'm going to–"
"To what? March your pretty little ass out there, and demand that Vidic takes care of his troubled subject? Am I too much for you to handle or something?"
Her breath struggled to remain controlled, the corner of her eye twitched intermittently. She watched his smug expression for a few moments, trying to decide on just how she would follow his comment.
Don't play into this– he's just baiting me… why the hell would Vidic have told him about this?! Probably was part of the bastard's plan all along. A nice little surprise for the first time I'm left in charge with one of our V.I.P's.
She cleared her throat, "Mr. Milles? Desmond– was it?"
His brow lifted slightly.
"If you don't give that tablet back to me, I'll have no choice but to use force."
He scoffed, "You? Heaven forbid you scratch my eyes out."
She snatched his wrist in an effort to startle him, but found that his skills were still dangerously sharp, despite his years away from his Assassin mentors. She gasped when she felt her bones pinched between his iron grip, a dangerous glint lingered in his eyes.
"Let go– your hurting–"
"And what exactly were you planning on doing to me?" Desmond spat, shoving her away to stumble into the wall.
A soft cascade of her bangs shaded her eyes, however she kept them at his level, "I wasn't going to… I only wanted you to understand that I'm serious."
Desmond scoffed, "Right."
She straightened her shirt and huffed slightly at his drawl. "Now, I'm going to ask one more time, or I'm going to have to put you under.
"'Sure you wouldn't just rather give me a massage? Am I that disgusting to you Templars or what?"
"Just give me the datapad 17."
"Nope."
Lucy turned to leave,
How's it going to look if I need a fucking sedative after only spending five minutes with him? Why'd I agree to take him as my test subject again?… like I really needed this much of a challenge!
She stopped, her hand hovering over the keypad, "Well?"
"Well what?" Desmond opened his eyes again, regarding her with mild curiosity.
Well this is clearly working.
She watched him carefully for a moment; her gaze flicking over his unusually relaxed posture for one of Abstergo's biggest supposed flight risks. The loose fitting sweater did little to hide his fairly impressive physique known to be inherent to those who had line after line of Assassin ancestors. He reached around, and withdrew the datapad before scrolling through its contents.
"Excuse me– there's sensitive data on that!" She lunged quickly to his side, before being stopped by his arm. She looked down, her jaw dropping as she realized just what his hand had latched onto.
Desmond smiled wryly, "Oops."
"You're an animal– it's a wonder we didn't find you sooner! Your brain must be truly amazing."
"And yet," he swept his arm in an infuriating gesture to the tablet still in his hand.
Lucy swatted his arm away from her chest, and threw herself onto Desmond.
If you can't beat them… wrestle it out of their hands?
She straddled him clumsily, trying to keep her advantage of Desmond's surprise as long as possible. Her fingers clawed against his, almost managing to catch hold of a corner, but slipped against the metal and glass.
"Oh, come ON!"
Desmond managed to recover from Lucy pouncing on him, and attempted to hold her arms at bay. Their legs tangled as the other tried to gain the upper hand, Lucy's arms flailed and Desmond had to hold back a laugh at her pathetic attempt to grab the tablet. He pushed on her shoulder, holding the tablet above his head with a mocking smile that twinkled in his eyes.
"If you want it so badly… well I guess you did jump into my lap…" his voice trailed off with his implication.
Lucy stopped, and sat up slightly, "Desmond, give me the datapad, or I swear–"
His hands found her hips, and Lucy found herself suddenly underneath him on the other side of the bed.
"Swear what? Haven't we been over this? It's an empty threat." He growled next to her ear.
Lucy felt the timber in his voice shiver down her spine, and she shuddered when his hand tightened on her hip.
"Desmond– what are… what do you hope to accomplish by doing this?"
"You were the one that jumped into my lap. What were you hoping to accomplish?" He smirked, watching as her pupils slowly dilated, and the motions of her chest increased. Her eyes traced the slow line the tip of his tongue ran across his parted lips; the scattered cracks in them a testament to the dry recycled air Abstergo boasted. The deep indentation of his scar that slashed across his lips caught her attention, and a tint of red slowly crept across her cheeks.
"What did you do to earn this?" she asked, her thoughts momentarily interrupted by his features. Despite the difference in their allegiance, she still found herself grow concerned when any of her subjects began exhibiting signs of the bleeding effect.
"Bar fight- some guy got pissed 'cuz I had to cut him off– next thing I know, there's a bottle of vodka swung into my face. Fucking V.I.P's."
Lucy blinked, realizing her situation still remained in the realm of the inappropriate, and she cleared her throat, "Um...the data pad, or get off of me at least."
Desmond swung his legs off of her, and stood beside the bed, his arm extended, offering her the tablet.
Lucy raised an eyebrow, "Just like that?" her tone wary.
He shrugged, a bored expression replacing any trace of his smugness.
She snatched the tablet from him, her eyes never leaving his, just in case he decided to try something again. Desmond scoffed, and sank back down to the bed.
"Now what– don't you have work to do? You all seem to be so busy all the time."
"Now that you mention it, my next task is getting you into the Animus,." She sighed heavily.
Desmond made no effort to move from the bed.
"Desmond, please, You're not doing yourself any favours." She paused, watching as his face remained unaffected. "I can get a security team in here if you don't comply."
"Is that the only argument you have? Honestly, I've been expecting something better than a series of empty threats."
Her shoulders protested against their squared position, fatiguing from their assertive posture.
"A massage?"
"Huh?"
"You'd agree to comply for a massage?"
"From you, specifically."
"What if I told you I have no experience; I could seriously mess up your back." She argued.
"Do you have any experience?"
She squirmed, "…No."
He raised an eyebrow.
She slumped, "I did a stint in physiotherapy, but that's diff–"
"Suits me fine. You might want to hurry up though, isn't your boss out there waiting for you?"
She nodded quickly, "Yes, but they have some paperwork to fill out first. I'm supposed to go through an entire interview and medical check-up with you before getting started, so I suppose I'll have to do that later."
Desmond's lip twitched as a smile spread across them.
"I suppose your going to need to take those off. And no oil– I'm not getting my hands all greasy.
"Going in dry, huh?"
"Pardon me?"
Desmond laughed as he shrugged out of his hoodie and t-shirt. He glanced at Lucy, wondering what her thoughts were as her eyes couldn't help but run over the lines of taught muscle criss-crossing over his lean torso.
"Um, so just lie down I suppose, and, uh," she shook her head, "I guess we'll get started then."
Desmond flopped down onto the bed, his face buried in the rumpled sheets.
Lucy walked to the side of his bed, her hands locked at her sides.
She tentatively reached her hands out, splaying her cool finger tips over his contrastingly warm skin. She felt him wince against them, his eyes opening, and turned to glance over his shoulder.
"Sorry." She pulled them away, and rubbed them together for a few minutes. "I never got the chance to eat breakfast this morning.
"That makes two of us. At least you can go home and eat– I don't even remember the last time I did."
Lucy paused, her eyes widened slightly, "They haven't been feeding you here? Or are you just–"
"No, I'm serious."
She fanned her fingers over his back again, gradually mapping out the lightest knots. She leaned into her motions, rubbing her hands over the compressed muscles. Her mind wandered with each run of her fingers. His skin felt hot under her hands, and she felt her cheeks burn from the sheer idea of it all.
What the hell would I tell Vidic I was doing?
Desmond's loud groan tore her from her reverie, the motions of her fingers over his aching muscles had proved more pleasurable than she imagined.
"Are you–"
Desmond's stomach growled grumpily, "Uh, yeah, I guess I'm just hungry."
Just hungry? What the hell was that moan?
Desmond shrugged his shoulders a few times to coax her fingers into moving again.
She frowned, and began the massage again, leaning into her motions heavily. She spent the next few minutes trying to find a more comfortable position, in which she could still apply the necessary pressure.
Desmond opened an eye, "Could you use a little more pressure, I'm not really feeling anything anymore."
She raised an eyebrow, biting back a comment which would only come flying back at her. "I can't really get any more, could you maybe…" she quieted, realizing the only viable solution to her problem would also redden her cheeks further.
Desmond raised slightly off the bed when he felt Lucy's legs slide over either side of his hips, before seating herself with a slight wiggle onto his ass.
Well, that was unexpected. Pleasant– but unexpected.
Lucy began with her movements, and Desmond swallowed a growl building in his throat as she dug her elbow into a large knot in his shoulders.
Her slight grunts as she tried to keep up with her pace and pressure proved more distracting than Desmond would have liked. He closed his eyes and bit the wall of his cheek as she rocked slowly in an effort for more pressure. The rolling pattern of her hips over him, and the slight rhythmic squeeze of her legs around him began taking its toll, and Desmond felt more than his temperature rising.
He opened his eyes in disappointment when her hands stopped, and he groaned in protest.
"My hands are hurting Desmond. Besides, I think I've already wasted enough time with this."
She began sliding off of him, but he grabbed her arm, and she sank back down.
"Just stay a little bit longer– you didn't even get to my lower back yet." He cringed at his own interjection, knowing perfectly well that his suggestion would only provoke him further.
Lucy sighed, and slumped in her posture with a slight bounce over Desmond.
"I'm not going to be able to press as hard."
"That's alright." He murmured, already losing himself again in the soft fleeting touches of her fingers.
Lucy worked her way down, curving her fingers around his hips in an effort to be as thorough as possible. Her fingers were stopped by a low groan that vibrated through her.
She stopped, her fingers still following the trench leading below his jeans. She moved them experimentally, and stopped again as she heard his breathy moan escape his lips.
Ooooh boy. This is exactly what I wanted to avoid. How the hell… shit. Here's hoping he'll cooperate now…
She moved to get off of him, and Desmond's eyes opened to reveal molten amber eyes.
"Lucy–"
The sound of her name startled her as he rasped it, "H…how do you know my name?"
"Lucy, don't leave. I… I can't – please?" his eyes pleaded with her, and she found her words tripped on her tongue as she saw their honeyed depths.
"Desmond, what do you expect me to do? I've already completely obliterated the subject administrator relationship."
"What's a little bit more then?" he murmured, taking her hand in his.
She closed her eyes, "Desmond– I can't do that. Do you know what would happen to me if they found out? Besides, what if I have a boyfriend?"
"Do you?"
Lucy cringed at the pregnant pause that followed, "No."
He stood, and took her chin in his hand, tilting her face up to gaze on his, "It appears you've run out of arguments." His lips punctuated the truth in his sentence, and before Lucy could object, she found the rational voice in her mind had quieted. Much like his physical hunger, Desmond's kisses soon grew hungry; full of tongue and the occasional infuriating nip against her lip. His other hand snaked down her back, to stroke her ass before pulling her leg over his hip. Her mouth opened wider when she felt him hard against her, encouraging Desmond with the slight whimper that escaped her lips.
He brought his lips down to her neck, sucking and nipping along her frantic heartbeat pulsing through her veins. She arched back as his tongue found her collar bone, and she found herself against the wall. She writhed her hips against his, striving for the friction so foreign to her. He brushed away the collar of her white shirt, finally ripping a few buttons in thee process to see more of her.
"Hey– I have to go back out there you know!"
"Who says?"
She rolled her eyes and smirked along with him. As he brought his lips back to hers, their tongues once again struggling for dominion over the other, a different struggle was mounting in her stomach. A hard knot of tension and stress was trying to hold fast against the waves of pleasure mounting with each touch and lick.
"Desmond, I really shouldn't be– I don't know you." She pulled away from him to stare into his face. With her tousled bun and swollen lips, her gesture was anything but an invitation to continue. He let her legs slide off of his hips, and stood, watching her.
"When was I born?"
"1987."
"Where was I born?"
"The States?"
"Come on, Lucy."
"North Dakota…"
He walked up to her again, stooping to whisper in her ear, "You already know more about me than I do about you."
"You don't know anything about me. "
"Is that a problem?"
"I should say so– I'm not some kind of…strumpet–"
Desmond laughed, "Strumpet? Did you just honestly use that word?"
She scoffed, and attempted to straighten her shirt, "Desmond, please follow me outside."
He wrapped his arms around her from behind, puling her flush against him. He smirked when he felt her breath catch. "Right behind you Miss Stillman."
"I think you've established that."
"Changed your mind then?"
"You do realize what you're proposing right?" she shook free of his arms and walked towards the door, her hand near the keypad once again.
"Out Desmond."
"You want me to go outside with this? Oh yeah, completely not obvious at all."
"What the hell do you expected me to do then– "
He walked towards her, and picked her back up, and carried her over to the bed. He deposited her onto the bed unceremoniously, and followed her onto it. He laid beside her.
"I don't think so."
"It's either you, or me– ether way I'm not going there until–"
"Yes, I understand, you've made that perfectly clear."
"So what's your choice?"
Her eye flicked over him, from his crooked grin to his constricting jeans.
"This never leaves the room– you understand?" the low pitch in her voice sent a shiver of desire rather than fear through Desmond.
He nodded silently.
"You'd better remember this well– it's never happening again."
"I'll keep that in mind."
Lucy stood and walked to the corner of the room, and turned down the room's lights.
"Wait– you can do that?"
"Of course– wait, what? Have you been sleeping with the lights on for the past weeks?"
"How am I supposed to remember this if I can't see anything?"
She smirked at his avoidance; "You'll have to just use your other senses– some say that when you lose one, the others become," she ran her fingers over his groin, "heightened."
She climbed back onto the bed, rising to her knees, and in a very unladylike manner slid her underwear off.
A breath caught in his throat as he felt her fingers curl around him under his jeans. She felt her own pulse quicken as his hands found her hips again, stroking them impatiently with one hand, while the other slid along her inner thigh. Curiosity drove her to further her exploration, not fully understanding her fingers' effect on him until she glanced up to look at him under heavy lids.
Snaking up his chest, she brought her hand to the flat, lean cords of muscle, ending at his shoulder. All thoughts of appropriate behaviour and protocol pushed well away from even the small importance the back burner had to offer. Swollen lips found his again, and she sighed contentedly as his tongue slid between them. Her balance shifted, and she pushed against his shoulder in an effort to stay upright. The irregularity in Desmond's breathing shuddered further when Lucy's thigh brushed over his arousal. His hands snaked tighter around her hips, and Lucy protested weakly into his mouth. Fingers inched down her hip, searching lower and lower until Lucy's eyes widened even more so than Desmond's grin. He had little time to explore before he felt her impatiently slide onto him. His fingers gripped her hips, holding her in place before she could move. Her walls were so tight against him that he needed a moment to adjust to the sensation. When she finally did move, he fought the urge to moan again, hoping that she too was enjoying herself.
Rolling her hips over his, her eyelids fluttered closed, fingers tight against his ridged shoulders. His teeth caught her lower lip, and she unconsciously let a breathy groan escape her lips. Desmond stared up at her, her completely enraptured in her current state. In the dim light, he watched her blonde hair fall out of its bun, fanning over her shoulders in waves. The way her eyes fluttered when he moved just right against her.
She gasped when he shifted abruptly, her eyes rolling when she found their position had been inverted. Her legs wrapped around his waist until she felt release surge through her, leaving her boneless around him while he finished.
After a brief moment, Lucy shifted from under Desmond, indicating the actual purpose of the day. He groaned softly as they untangled from the sheets and limbs. Desmond stood, adjusting his jeans with an easy smile cast in her direction. Her form remained on the bed, either still too tired to move, or fixed in her position from dread. He walked over to examine her closely, grinning when he heard her expel a heavy sigh.
"I'll be outside then. Not that it looks like you'll be moving anytime soon."
The sheets rustled as she attempted to sit up, "That's your fault you know–"
Desmond smirked as he walked through the doors, "Didn't hear any complaints at the time."
The doors closed behind him, inadvertently saving him from the pillow whipped in his direction.
Okkaay... not quite sure if this was any good, but I wanted to get this out. I meant to upload it before AC3, and now I have an abundance of feels, which I will turn into a multi-chapter fic after the events of AC3.
Off to do that then!
Stay lovely,
juno57