Hi there!
So, I got another idea for a smutty Sanvers one-shot and... Here it is :)
For those who have read my previous Sanvers one-shot, I've noticed that a few (several, lol) of you wanted a continuation of the "Alex taken from behind on the kitchen countertop" idea that I have left hanging in front of you as someone said, and I might be taking it in consideration so... Yeah, let me know if you are still interested in that :D
But for now, I'll leave you to this.
I apologize for eventual grammar mistakes, english is not my first language.
Enjoy
It's weird, you think, how many things have changed ever since you got with Maggie.
Good weird, of course. Dreamily, amazingly, heart-fluttering weird. And whenever you think about it, you can only feel more fuzzy and warm and impossibly happy, especially if you think about what your life before her used to be.
Not so long ago there was room only for your job at the DEO, for the bottle of scotch in your fridge next to some chinese left overs, and of course for Kara.
You were used to get into bed and wake up alone, get to work, protect your sister, and repeat, all over again.
But now...
Now you can't imagine not falling asleep and waking up in a warm embrace that smells of delicate white musk and blackberries and pure affection at least once per week.
You can't imagine opening your fridge and not finding that imported beer that Maggie likes along with some of her favorite food that you restock regularly for when you spend a quiet evening at home and decide to cook something together.
But most of all, you don't think you can deal having to go without that beautiful, radiant, dimpled smile for more than a couple of days.
This is what you think when you walk into the bullpen of the precint with a spring in your step, a smile on your face and a paper bag containing Maggie's favorite sandwich as you use the hour lunch break you have rarely used since you joined the department, to get lunch with your girlfriend. The smile on your lips widens further, only to drop slowly as your eyebrows knit together when you notice that Maggie's desk is vacant; the only sign of her presence a fresh stack of opened folders and her leather jacket thrown over the back of the chair.
You place the paper bag on the desk and look around trying to spot the petite figure of your girlfriend before deciding to ask for her to one of her fellow detectives around. They direct you towards the side room of one of the interrogation rooms on the other side of the bullpen.
She had confirmed for lunch this morning, you think, as you cross the relatively quiet squad room, and that makes you wonder if maybe she has got caught up with some last minute development in one of her cases.
You get your answer soon enough however, as soon as you knock on the door and then step into the room with a light frown when a male voice invites you in.
It all makes sense when you are welcomed by a man with salt pepper hair, kind dark eyes and a big smile.
Maggie's on and off partner.
The only man in her life.
The only one she can stand but would never admit it, because she has too much fun pretending that she can't. They both do. Which makes watching their interactions pretty amusing.
"Special Agent Danvers!" He greets you gleefully, "Come on in."
And of course he adores you, since "you keep Mags less stressed out" as he says.
"Sergeant Flynn," You nod and smile in return to his sincerely warm greetings before your gaze shifts to the one-way mirror where, on the other side, Maggie is currently grilling a perp.
"Oh, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to intrude. I was just looking for Maggie."
He brushes off your apology with a dismissive wave. "You know you are always welcome here, Alex." He reassures you as his gaze returns pensively in front of him. You do the same.
"She's been in there for long?" You ask him, trying to catch up on what this is about by listening to what Maggie is saying to the perp on the other side.
"Not really, we picked him up downtown an hour ago or so." He informs you before flashing you a smile and a playful wink, "Don't worry, Mags will be out in no time. He's about to crack anyway." He says confidently.
"I told you I have nothing to say to you!"
The sudden angry snap makes you both turn towards the mirror where you see the suspect straining in rage against the handcuffs secured on the table.
You grimace in front of the scene. "It doesn't seem like it."
For how much you have confidence in Maggie's skills about breaking down a suspect, this one seems to be particularly tough even for her. And not only because his tall imponent figure makes your lover's look even more... tiny.
Ugh.
She would kill you if she ever knew you thought something like that.
Her partner however doesn't seem so concerned about the hostile resistance of their suspect. "Give her a minute, Agent." He says calmly, before turning to look at you with a spark of interest, as if a sudden brilliant idea has just popped in his mind. "Actually, what would you say about reducing that minute down to thirty seconds?"
It takes you a moment to put the words together and understand what he's offering.
"You... You want me to get in there?" You ask a bit hesitantly, not sure if you have gotten it right, but you did, and he grins, nodding at you.
You tilt your head to the side, hands on your hips, eyes playfully narrowed at him. "Shouldn't that be your perp, Sergeant?"
He shrugs, smirking. "I don't have a scary Federal badge." Well... Technically neither do I, you think biting your lips to hide your own smirk.
"So? What do you say Special Agent Danvers?" He ask teasingly, and then he leans in to whisper conspiratorially even though you are the only ones in the room. "I'll cover for an extra half an hour for your lunch with Maggie if you are willing to give it a try."
That offer certainly earns your whole attention.
You purse your lips and gaze pensively at the dirt bag that has already stolen more than five minutes from the time you are supposed to be spending with your girl.
That's more than reason enough.
You turn to Maggie's partner with your answer sparkling in your eyes and spreading on your lips into a wide smile. "I would say you got a deal, Sergeant."
He grins in approval and enthusiasm as he gestures for you to go in.
"Behave!" He then adds quickly, and the hint of actual worry in his tone makes you chuckle.
"No promises."
This time you don't even knock. But you take a moment to take in a breath and force an expression of absolute seriousness and take-no-bullshit-from-no-one before you open the door, chin up, shoulders squared.
Maggie is the first one who turns to look up from the perp handcuffed on the table at the sound of the door getting opened.
The look of frustration and understandable annoyance for having been interrupted turning into a frown and then, when she sees that it's you, into surprise. Her eyes sparkle, and the little smirk that twitches at the corner of her mouth is only for you to see.
She doesn't miss a beat however. Always composed. Always so sexily in control of everything.
...and you can't help but notice how good she looks with her grey plaid shirt rolled up on her forearms, with those tight jeans hugging her legs and ass so deliciously, with those boots and the-
Dammit.
Not the time Danvers. Get a grip.
"Well," Maggie drawls looking and sounding so very pleased - for more than one reason, you're sure, thanks to your obvious lingering gaze - as she pulls herself up from where she was leaned against the table filled with incriminating photos and bags of evidence, crossing her arms over her chest. "It seems like we are not the only ones awfully interested in this smuggling ring for your alien drug after all." She says to the growling perp as she introduces you with an emphatic gesture, "Meet Special Agent Danvers of the FBI."
The mention of your fake cover is already enough to get a reaction from the suspect, which is kind of funny as both you and Maggie notice immediately how he squirms on the seat and gulps, suddenly not looking so tough after all, but it only lasts for a moment before he tilts his head up and forces back that rouge-bravado, growling right at you this time. "I have nothing to say to you either."
You look at Maggie searching for some sort of permission to interact; this is her case after all, and the last thing you want is screw this up for her, make the perp say the magic word and ask for a layer. Because how lucky you are working for a secret agency that technically doesn't give rights to any of the perps you hold as prisoners. You could never deal with all that legal burocratic shit. But Maggie trusts you in this and gives you an almost imperceptible nod to go ahead. Maybe you even catch the hint of an amused smile curling up the corner of her mouth.
You remain generic, not being aware of all the details. Nonetheless your voice is filled with intimidating confidence when you speak. "You might want to reconsider that." You tell him stepping forward and gesturing to the evidence scattered accusingly all over the table. "I have an endless list of Federal charges to add to your current situation, and it isn't looking very good for you right now as it is buddy."
His eyes widen a bit but he sets his jaw tightly and clenches his fists as he looks at you and gnarls a "Fuck you, bitch."
It happens so fast. Before you can even blink and before that lame insult can even fully reach your ears.
In a heartbeat Maggie is already stepping forward and grabbing the collar of the perp, almost slamming the side of his head on the table. "You better watch your mouth, you piece of crap." She hisses.
You are no damsel in distress.
You don't need someone defending you. You never did. Especially not from some worthless drug dealer thug.
You used to find even common chivalry annoying and ludicrous.
But there is... something, in watching Maggie step up even for something like this for you. Maybe it is the fierceness in her gaze, the tightness in her jaw, the boiling anger in her growled words, the way she yanks that perp so violently towards her as if he doesn't at least weights three times her own weight in muscles.
Whatever it is, in front of such scene, you feel a tug somewhere in your chest and... a bit lower in your belly too, actually.
If you would pay more attention to it you would realize that it is actually the whisper of arousal, but you ignore the feeling in order to step in, because you certainly don't want a disciplinary complaint on Maggie's file because this scum bag got to her nerves with an insult that clearly burns more to her than it doesn't affect you.
"It's okay Detective." You tell her, resting a soothing hand on her arm, feeling the tense muscles relax under your reassuring touch after she releases the perp, wrenching him forcefully back against the chair.
You sigh inwardly.
This is taking too long...
Then, just when your gaze drops on the stack of evidence and photos on the table, an idea brightens in your mind.
"You know what, maybe we should release him." You suggest.
For a split second Maggie turns to look at you with that "have you gone mad?!" look, but it takes her less than another second to realize where are you going with that, and then her expression change into a wide devious grin.
Understand each other with a look has become your specialty. And so you watch as dark eyes sparkle with a mix of amusement and thrill.
"Yeah, I think you are right Agent." She agrees, "Maybe we should. We should drop him off right where we picked him up, in front of all his pals to see, so they would know that he has collaborated with the police. Can you imagine how they would greet him back?" She wonders looking at you with a frown of pretended innocence.
As you were hoping, this does the trick.
The badass facade of the suspect crumbles again as his eyes widen in shock.
This guy is a fraud...
Maggie has already roasted him. He just needed a further... incentive to break. Her partner wasn't exaggerating earlier after all.
"W-wait! You can't do that!" He practically panics.
Checkmate.
"I didn't tell you anything!"
"Doesn't matter." Maggie says with a shrug of indifference, "All that matters is what your friends are going to think when we bring you back to your hole, free as a bird. And they are going to think you talked. But if we keep you here..." Her voice trails off leaving suspended in the air the obvious meaning and you have to hide your smirk behind your hand faking a cough as you watch the suspect having a rather alarming inner struggle.
As you catch a glimpe of the mirror in the room you can't help but wonder if Maggie's partner is on the other side laughing his ass off and wishing he had some pop corn for this show you are putting on.
The whole bravado and bluff is already highly entertaining to play. Not to mention seeing a suspect who tried to act like a boss crumble like this.
He takes a minute too long to consider his poor options however, and Maggie goes ahead with the half bluff. "Alright then, let's get you back to your pals."
But as soon as she takes a step towards the door, he finally breaks.
"No, no, wait! Wait!" He begs pathetically, "I-I'll tell you everything I know."
"Then you better start talking!" Maggie barks, having run out of patience, slamming a hand on the table hard enough to make the suspect flinch, "Right now! Or I swear that what your fellow drug dealer losers are going to do to you is nothing compared to what my colleague here is capable of doing." She threatens darkly. "Go ahead and ask me how the last guy that has been uncooperative with her ended up like."
The suspect looks tentatively up at you, and you smile sweetly, trying not to burst out laughing when he gulps. Hard.
"I-l'll cooperate! I swear! Just don't send me back to them."
"Good," She says, sliding a notepad and a pen to him, "Write it all down and I'll make sure to tell the DA you have been of great help. No one of your friends will ever know. And it's best if the information you give me are all true, because while lying to the police is no crime, lying to a Federal Agent it is. And believe me, you don't want to meet my friend over here ever again. Unless you want to end up eating steaks through a straw."
Once again you have to bite the inside of your cheek to not laugh, but the threat of you knocking out his teeth is more than enough for the perp. He picks up the pen with a shaky hand and starts writing down names and locations of their stashes.
Maggie meets your gaze and you both smirk thriumphantly.
. . .
You don't know what it is. If watching a grown man almost pissing his pants from fear, the way Maggie exalted and praised with pride your arguable interrogations tecnique to him, the way her veins were bulging against the tanned skin of her defined forearms as she got more worked up with adrenaline and desire to nail the guy for good...
Whatever it is, you are really glad that everyone witnessing the scene was too focused on the task at hand to notice how your eyes had darkened, how your breathing had quickened as you squirmed on your spot, trying to press you thighs together in an unsuccessful attempt to contain the very familiar throb that had started in your lower abdomen while you looked at your lover grilling that thug.
Because God... The effect that this woman and her display of power and authority has on you is beyond any comprehension.
So when she lets her enthusiastic partner and the satisfied ADA take over, and leads you to another empty room to reorganize the evidence and photos, you feel that pressure that has gathered somewhere inside you making your body buzz with a familiar energy, getting ready to burst.
"I'm sorry Alex," She sighs apologetically, tiredly running a hand through her hair, "I would have called you and told you that I was running late but-"
You don't let her finish.
You just step forward and interrupt her unecessary apologies with a kiss. Cupping her cheeks and drawing her closer to you.
At first it was meant to be a reassurance, an innocent "hi" now that you are in private and have thought about kissing those lips for the past few days. But the thing gets a bit out of hand when, after her initially confused reaction, she starts kissing you back, and you find it impossible not to give in to the softness and warmth and comfort that you find in that tender gesture, in her silky mouth, feeling your body respond in a more... intense way when she parts her lips, allowing access to your searching tongue to meet hers in that loving, heated embrace.
When you part after an undefined amount of time, you are both breathless.
"Wow..." Maggie breathes, looking absolutely, adorably dumbstruck, but also undoubtedly pleased by this development, and maybe even more than a little curious.
You mean to tell her "I missed you". But of course what slip from your mouth is a whole different thing; the reflection of what your body is currently experiencing and why.
"You look so hot when you're angry." You tell her, feeling your cheeks flare immediately at the confession as you whisper the words against her lips. Those lips that shape instantly into a full, overly delighted, almost smug grin.
"Do I now, Special Agent Danvers?" She teases you, because of course she does. She'll always catch the occasion to tease you whenever she can. And the bright pink of embarassment coloring your face is probably the look that she enjoys the most on you.
Unable to meet her gaze, you just hum your answer, or maybe whine it against the sweet tender skin of her throat as you bury your head there to plant a trail of kisses and soft bites, surrendering to the need that is swelling inside you; guiding your body and encouraging your touch.
Maggie doesn't certainly protest to the attentions, cupping the back of your head and gripping your side with her other hand to bring you closer, groaning deep in her chest when you suck at her earlobe.
From there it escalates rather quickly. And soon, the sting of embarassment fades. Completely replaced by that buzzing feeling and the whisper of that familiar need that stirs more and more awake from somewhere deep into you.
Your kisses on her delicate skin become more hungry, fervent. Enough to get Maggie breathless as your bodies start moving and grinding subtly against each other on their own accord, fitting to play a dance you know by heart.
"Fuck... Alex..." She growls. A warning. Or an encouragement. To you it sounds like both.
"We... Ugh... We cant. We're at work." She protests, but the way she tilts her head to offer you more access to the tender flesh of her throat looks anything but a request to stop what you're doing.
For a moment however, at her reminder, you are very tempted to pull back and give her a look. As if it would be the first time. As if you have never dragged each other into the DEO supply closet more times than you can count. But you just keep kissing her because the noises that she makes low and deep in her throat don't sound like complaints to your ears either, nor does it feel like it from the way her hips start bucking against you, searching for some kind of friction.
You suck at her pulse point and she groans. You do it again, a little harder, grazing with your teeth that sensitive spot as you slip a thigh between her legs and this time she surrenders.
"Fuck it." She mumbles, before cupping your jaw and forcing you up to kiss you deeply as your hands travel lower, right where she wants you.
You smile into the kiss at her sudden eagerness, making quick work of her belt buckle and zip of her jeans, and when you sneak your hand into her panties, even if you you already expected it, you can't help but moan in delight and feel a shiver crawl up your spine at the sensation of slick wet warmth greeting your fingertips.
"That's what you do to me, Danvers." She growls, biting your bottom lip and making you hiss in that exquisite combination of pleasure and pain.
As you press her back against the wall for support you want to tell her that she has the same effect on you, and that watching her interrogate that suspect earlier has already probably ruined your panties for good, but the words get stuck in your throat and another muffled moan escapes instead when you slip your hand lower, between her soaked folds and feel her pulse under your fingertips; her clit throbbing with a second, needy heartbeat.
She is so hard, so swollen and slick. So desperately ready for your touch.
You relish in the sensation and let them consume you as if it is your own pleasure the one that you see washing over her face and making her eyes flutter shut as she throws her head back against the wall when you slid effortlessly inside of her.
You didn't even mean to get inside of her so soon. But she is so, so wet you can't even help it. And she just looks so, so beautiful. The sounds that she makes are so deliciously rich you just want to drown into them, and the way she clenches and flutters around your fingers almost makes you come on the spot against the seam of your tight jeans.
Maggie must feel it too, because the next thing you know she's slipping one of her strong thighs between yours, and you don't know how to express her appreciation in any other way but letting your hips start rocking forward, dragging your clit on the hardness of the muscles your find there and feeling the jolt of sensations reaching you even through layers of clothings.
You start moving as one within a minute. Grinding shamelessly against each other. With Maggie urging you closer and harder against her thigh while you pump your fingers in and out of her, stroking every inch of the silkiness of her fluttering inner walls, setting a rhythm that is familiar and heated. A rhythm that tells you that this isn't going to last much longer.
And you get your confirmation soon enough. When at your next thrust you curl your fingers against that sweet swollen spot on Maggie's front wall.
The reaction is immediate, and you have to capture her lips in order to muffle the scream that you tear from her throat with that movement, and she doesn't protest, bringing you closer, gripping your hips tighter to guide your grinding motion, now desperate and selfish in its search for more.
If swallowing her scream of pure ecstasy isn't enough to make you throb, feeling her clenching hard, possessively everytime you try to pull out only to push back in a hearbeat later, has your desire skyrocket.
The way her body responds to your touch would never stop to amaze you, knowing that you are the reason why she has her head thrown back like this, why she is holding so tightly onto you, why she is panting and gasping and groaning in your mouth, and, most of all, why she goes impossibly rigid for a few seconds when you press you palm against her clit and draw a couple of rough circles over it.
That's all she needs.
The pression in your lower belly unfurls in front of the look of pure bliss that you see shaping her beautiful features, and you barely manage a couple more pumps and rolls of your own hips to follow her over the edge.
You come a second apart from her.
With her name falling breathlessly, shakily, from your lips just like yours falls from hers before you catch the rest of the loud moans and groans in a deep, messy kiss to swallow them down and join the rest of the waves of pleasure flooding through your bodies like electricity.
It's an intense, long, tall peak, and the descent lasts even longer. Both trying to draw every single shudder from the other as best you can. But eventually, everything slows down; your fingers from curling inside of her, your hips from bucking in a faltered rhythm against her leg, the grip on each other lessens as everything turns into weak pulses of aftershock, occasional twitches and shivers, and slow, lazy, sweet kisses in between breathless, moist gasps shared in the same narrowed space as you slip gently out of her, kissing away the groan of protest at the loss of that pleasant stretch and fullness.
Even Maggie takes her leg back after she has made sure you have ridden entirely your climax, but she doesn't stop there, because, just as she wraps her arm around you to hold you up and closer to her - a further support for which you are grateful given how shaky your legs are currently feeling - you also feel her hand tracing the waistband of your jeans, and you recognize immediately that purposeful touch as it nears the button and zip at the front.
You pull back, very reluctantly, from that tender kiss and place a gentle hand over hers, stopping her from unbottoning your jeans, and of course, the gesture earns you a puzzled, perfectly arched eyebrow.
"Don't I get to properly return the favor?" She ask with more than a hint of disappointment in her voice, practically pouting, before her gaze turns dark and seductive, making you shiver all over with anticipation. "Because I could bend you over this table right now, or put you on your back and go down on you forever, you know?"
Oh, you do know.
Fuck.
That's... So damn tempting that is practically irresistible.
And it's exactly that forever that makes it so conflicting. Because you are aware that Maggie means that literally.
You bite your bottom lip and shake your head. The thought of refusing that offer makes you ache all over and has you squirming on the spot with an intense flare of renewed desire.
But you still manage to resist, barely, to the temptation in the moment you reconsider exactly where you are.
"Later. Tonight." You tell her in the end with a smile, kissing that adorable pout away. "I promise."
This seems to work, even though she still looks a bit disappointed and playfully mad that she didn't get her proper turn with you. But you both know that if you would let her, there is no way you would make it out of this room within the next two hours, on your own legs, and you are, after all, at her precint.
Your core throbs in both need and protest for that decision too, and you hope you'll be able to control it until tonight, when you'll be able to take all the sweet time you want.
With one last kiss full of promises you pull back and then watch Maggie tucking the shirt back into her pants and fasten her belt.
If possible, now she looks even more sexy than before. Maybe because you know you are the cause for her clothes to be a little wrinkled and her hair a bit more messy, doesn't matter how much she tries to fix them. You can't help but feel a strange surge of pride at that knowledge.
She catches you staring and smirks, winking at you before you can turn your head and pretend you weren't or aren't currently blushing.
"Thanks for the help back there." She says then tilting her head towards the interrogation room, offering you a small mercy to your suddenly flustered state.
You smile gratefully but dismiss what she said with a shy wave. "It was nothing. You did all the work."
She raises an eyebrow at you. "You intimidated him with your fake credentials and gave me the idea of throwing him back to his pack of thugs."
"You just needed an nudge." You tell her with a shrug and she laughs; that rich warm sound that wraps around you like a cozy blanket - and flashes you a smile, dimples in full display and eyes sparkling with the warmest combination of adoration and admiration.
"We really make a great team, don't we?" She asks taking your hand and pulling you closer to wrap her arms around your waist.
"We absolutely do." You agree before leaning in to kiss her again, melting her smile against yours.
The excuse of lunch was just that. An excuse. A mean to get to what you have been truly missing lately, and that now you have found again in the softness and sweetness of Maggie's lips.
The warmth of love.
And the taste of home.
I just love it when these two team up :D Thanks for reading everyone. Feedback is always welcome :)