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Leave Them On

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“You could have gotten yourself killed,” Shaw growled, slamming Root up against the wall, hands immediately going for the belt at her waist.

“But I didn’t,” Root pointed out. Her breath hitching slightly in anticipation as Shaw’s fingers brushed against her bare skin, Root bit down on her lip hard to stop the moan escaping from her mouth too soon.

“It was reckless,” Shaw admonished, whipping the belt off and unzipping Root’s pants.

“I knew you’d save me,” Root lied, gripping her hands tightly on Shaw’s hips as if to reassure them both that she was still here.

“We almost lost the number too,” Shaw pointed out, although the lighter edge to her voice told Root that their number hadn’t been Shaw’s biggest concern.

Warmth immediately spread its way across Root’s chest and she told herself it was to do with their current positions; Shaw’s hand down her pants, teasing; her breath skimming across Root’s cheek, causing her to shiver. She told herself it had nothing to do with anything else. Anything else was too dangerous a thought. Thoughts like that in times like these, with two artificial intelligences warring it out for dominance… well, those thoughts only led to distraction.

But Root didn’t care all that much about being distracted at the moment. The distraction was a welcome relief to the silence in her ear. And she pressed her lips hungrily against Shaw’s, biting down hard and relishing in the hiss that escaped Shaw’s mouth.

Her glasses batted against Shaw’s cheek, making the angle difficult, and Root moved to take them off and toss them aside.

“Leave them on,” Shaw ordered, more than a little breathless.

Root raised an eyebrow and didn’t even try to control the smirk the spread across her face. “You like them, huh?” she asked, voice teasing.

Shaw gritted her teeth and pulled Root’s pants down roughly.

“Have you been thinking about this all day?” Root asked, surprised by Shaw’s enthusiasm and loving every minute of it. “Do you have a glasses kink?”

Shaw’s hands tightened on Root’s hips, pressing her up against the wall again. Root felt the concrete dig into her back, cold and hard just like the look on Shaw’s face.

“Would you just shut up for once and let me fuck you,” Shaw snapped.

Root smirked but wisely kept her mouth shut, knowing that Shaw would just leave her hanging, unsatisfied and cold, if she pushed too far.

Teeth grazed sharply across Root’s neck and she finally let out that moan.

“You never answered my question,” she said, unable to help herself as one of Shaw’s hands slipped underneath her shirt to knead at her breast whilst the other still teased, fingers never quite reaching where Root needed them to be.

“Which one?” Shaw asked huskily, her lips finding Root’s again. Root grabbed the back of her head, pulling her closer and knocking her glasses askew. Shaw pulled away and straightened them with the hand that hand been busy teasing at her underwear.

“Well I guess that answers my second question,” said Root, grinning as Shaw continued to glare at her. “You do have a glasses kink.”

Shaw rolled her eyes. “I have a thing for librarians, okay,” she said sullenly.

Root scrunched her nose up in disgust. “You think I look like a librarian?”

Shaw shrugged. “It was a long time ago. Pulling all-nighters for finals. She was hot.”

“Did you fuck the librarian?” Root asked, grinning.

“Maybe,” Shaw said with a self-satisfied smirk as she leaned in closer. “I didn’t even have to return my overdue textbooks.”

A light chuckle escaped Root’s lips and she couldn’t help but imagine a younger version of Sameen the med-student, studying avidly. It was hard to picture her getting easily distracted; the Shaw she knew was always so focused, so direct. Root thought she liked this younger version of Sameen she was seeing tonight.

“What about my first question?” Root asked.

Shaw hummed against her neck, nibbling at the skin as her fingernails dug deep into the flesh of her hips. The pain mixed with pleasure sent a wave of arousal through Root that went straight between her legs, making her want to buck her hips in seek of friction that Shaw was refusing to give.

Grabbing Shaw by the face with both hands, Root pulled Shaw closer so she could kiss her.

“Have you been thinking about fucking me all day?” Root repeated.

“Yes,” Shaw groaned as Root’s teeth found her neck, sinking in and leaving a mark before she sucked on it gently to mask the pain.

“Then what are you waiting for?” Root asked, feeling hesitancy in Shaw’s touch that she wasn’t used to. It had never been there before and it made anger swell in Root’s gut. “I’m not going to break,” she snapped.

“I know,” said Shaw uneasily, pushing against Root roughly as if to prove it to them both. She stared at Root steadily for a moment, as if choosing her next words carefully. “But you can’t keep being so reckless.”

And there was that warmth again.

Root ignored it.

She had been reckless, maybe, but the Machine had been watching her back. She told herself for the millionth time: the Machine always had her back.

“We need you, Root,” Shaw said quietly, voice barely above a whisper, like she was telling some secret she was supposed to keep and never let out.

Something tightened within Root’s chest, making it difficult to breathe and she remembered bullets flying up at her from below, barely missing her flesh as she dodged out of the way, frantically following Her instructions and hoping she was quick enough.

“Would you just shut up for once and fuck me,” Root said, forcing some lightness into her tone.

The dark edge to Shaw’s look slipped away and she smirked slightly as she leaned in close, lips not quite touching but Root could still feel her own tingling in anticipation. “I can do that,” Shaw mumbled, kissing her aggressively.

A groan rumbled its way up Root’s throat and she bit down hard on Shaw’s lip when she finally got the friction that she so desperately needed.

Shaw was incredibly slow at first, slipping in one finger and then two, barely moving, so much so that Root was starting to think they would be here all night. Root slipped her hands up underneath Shaw’s shirt, digging her nails into her back and urging her into moving faster.

“This doesn’t feel much like fucking,” Root complained.

“Shut up,” Shaw growled, biting on Root’s neck again. Her thumb brushed against Root’s clit as she moved her fingers in deeper and Root moaned, feeling the tension build up inside of her muscles.

The lingering fear after her encounter with Samaritan’s operatives at the hotel slowly ebbed away and for the first time in a long time Root was glad of the silence in her ear. Glad that the Machine wasn’t updating her on Samaritan’s progress for world domination, or how close John was to losing his job as a cop and blowing his cover identity. How Shaw had escaped from another successful burglary without getting caught. All these things the Machine told her when She could, when it was safe enough, Root was glad she didn’t have to listen to it right now.

Because whenever she did, whenever the Machine told her how badly they were losing this war, it made Root just want to give up.

But not tonight. Not with Shaw inside of her. That made her want to keep fighting.

Root kissed her again hard, like it was the last time and she tried to ignore the very real thought that was a possibility. That they might both end up dead tomorrow.

Shaw’s fingers moved with a purpose then, as if she were sensing Root’s morbid thoughts. Or maybe she was also thinking about the hotel, how close Root had come to getting shot or caught or dead. Either way, Root didn’t care, and she could feel herself getting closer, her muscles tightening around Shaw’s fingers. She rocked her hips wildly, riding Shaw’s hand until her orgasm hitting her hard at the same time as Shaw moved to bring their lips together again.

Root’s entire body shook, the side of her face banging clumsily against Shaw’s, knocking her glasses to the floor. Root heard a crunch and knew that Shaw’s foot must have landed on them as she shifted her feet awkwardly to keep the both balanced.

“I think you broke my glasses,” Root said breathlessly, trailing light kisses along Shaw’s jaw.

“I’ll buy you a new pair,” Shaw promised.

Root smirked. “Thought you were short on funds?”

Shaw shrugged.

“You need to make sure they match my outfits,” Root quipped, trailing a finger lazily along the waistband of Shaw’s pants, making her shiver.

“I wasn’t planning on you wearing anything else,” said Shaw hoarsely.

Root grinned wickedly, liking the sound of that idea.