Archive of Our Own ^beta

It had been a long, sweltering day full of too many people and not enough bullets, but the sun is finally setting and Root couldn’t be more thankful for the reprieve from the heat. A faint breeze coils around her as she stands on the deck of the ship, sea air cooling the sweat gathered under the leather of her loosely laced vest, and as she glances up at the crow’s nest she can see the wind blowing through the large sleeves of Shaw’s shirt as she stands gazing out onto the water with a hand at the brim of her tricorn hat. She’s too high up for Root to be able to see the sun gleaming against the faintly sweat-sheened skin revealed by the deep cut of the open collar of her shirt, but Root knows it’s there. She’s been forced to stare at it all day without being able to do anything about it.

Shaw stretches her arms out wide for a moment, letting her hands fall lightly onto the sword and pistol at her hips, and not for the first time does Root take notice of how comparatively spacious the crow’s nest is. Other ships barely have more than a glorified barrel stuck to the mast, but here at least there's room for someone to move around. Two someones, if they don't mind getting cozy.

And judging from the way Shaw looked at her after her brief sword fight with a couple of goons that had ended with a light to medium stabbing, Shaw wouldn’t mind getting cozy with her at all.

A buzzing noise disturbs her admiration of Shaw’s big damn hero pose, and she fishes her phone out of her trouser pocket to find a message from John saying he’d taken their number to a safe house for the night. He’d been all too happy to have an excuse to leave behind both the ship and Root and Shaw’s increasingly charged looks at each other, which was just as well. His eyepatch had looked ridiculous.

They still had yet to figure out why the mafia was after a kid who worked as crewman number six on a pirate ship turned dinner theater, but Root certainly wasn’t going to complain about the need to go undercover here. Especially now that the Machine had seen fit to suggest she and Shaw stay behind to surveil the ship at night. The sky is growing increasingly dark with the setting sun, and as Root tucks her phone away she looks back up at the crow’s nest to find Shaw had shifted a bit, and now her hair was billowing in the wind along with her floofy white pirate shirt.

That's just unfair.

She can feel Shaw’s eyes on her as she climbs the rope ladder up to the nest, her sword only getting tangled in it once, and preens a little at Shaw’s intent gaze as her leg swings over the edge. She stumbles a bit into Shaw’s space, steadied by strong hands before Shaw moves back to give her some room in the cramped nest.

“Ahoy, sweetie,” Root says, only slightly breathless from the climb, and Shaw’s amusement shows even through the slight shake of her head.

“You can drop the pirate act, Root, everyone’s gone.”

Root raises an eyebrow and picks at the edge of her vest where it meets the vee of exposed skin of her chest. “You didn’t like my costume?”

“Hated it,” Shaw nods, and they both know it’s a blatant lie. Root’s wearing nothing underneath the leather vest, the laces at the base of her sternum trailing down to her stomach the only thing preventing a public indecency charge, and Shaw had been enjoying her view for the day almost as much as Root had been.

“You were just jealous it wasn’t a private show.”

Shaw’s eyes narrow. “I don’t do jealous,” she corrects. “It’s stupid.”

“Jealousy, or my vest?”

“Your vest isn’t stupid,” Shaw says, and her fingers reach out to tug at the bottom of it, exposing a flash of Root’s hip above the low waist of her trousers. “It’s… Distracting.”

Root grins at that, trailing her fingers over Shaw’s hands and up her arms. “I could say the same for you.” She can see the outline of Shaw’s muscles through the light fabric as it ripples in the breeze, and restrains herself from licking the shadows cast at the juncture of Shaw’s neck and collarbone from the fading light and licks her own lips instead. She tugs gently at the fabric beneath her fingertips. “You’re really pulling this off, sweetie,”

Shaw breaks her intense inspection of Root’s hip and looks up at her. “Let me guess, now you’re gonna pull it off.”

“No,” Root hums, leaning closer and nudging the corner of Shaw’s pirate hat up and back with her forefinger. “I think I’ll leave it on.”

She can feel both Shaw’s eyeroll and her smile through the kiss. Shaw's skin is warm under her touch even through the shirt as she steps closer and presses them together, and Shaw lets her fingers slip under Root’s vest to settle at the small of her back. She tastes lightly of salt, from sweat or the sea she couldn’t say, but it’s enticing all the same. Shaw lets a sound rumble in her throat at the press of Root’s leg against her, and at the touch of Shaw’s tongue a stray thought about her going in for the plunder crosses Root’s mind and she can’t prevent the snorting laugh that comes out.

Shaw pulls away, looking scandalized. “What?”

“Nothing, Sameen,” Root singsongs, letting her hands roam down to Shaw’s backside. “It’s just you know how much I want that - ”

“Booty, yes, I know, you’ve made that joke eight times already today.” Shaw shakes her head as Root squeezes her ass a bit. “Ugh, I don’t know why I agreed to come here. Bad food, bad beer, and bad puns.”

Shaw’s eyes betray her grumbling, bright and focused as they are on the sword at Root’s hip. “Same reason I did, Shaw. And it wasn’t to stop the bad guys.” She gestures between them, flicking the open collar of Shaw’s shirt. It really was a devastatingly attractive aesthetic. Centuries removed from the accompanying scurvy and dental problems, anyway.

“Would be a shame to let an opportunity go to waste,” Shaw agrees, biting her lip a little as she tugs at one of the laces on Root’s vest.

Root lets her pull the laces undone, but brushes her hands away with a finger before she can touch anything else and make Root forget the most important part. “I’ve got something for you,” she says, forestalling Shaw’s protest. She takes half a step back and circles her leather shoulder pack around to the front, fishing around for a moment before brandishing a packet of wet wipes at Shaw. “I know how you feel about safe sex, sweetie. You climbed the same rope ladder to get up here as I did, we’re both going to need these.”

Shaw stares at her for a long moment. Root waggles the packet in the air expectantly and Shaw snatches it, pulling a few out and passing it back to Root. “The Machine tell you to bring these?”

“She’s an excellent wingwoman,” Root nods, smiling at the way Shaw is studiously cleaning the ship grime out from under her fingernails even as she complains about the lemon smell. She cleans her own hands and shoves the packet back into the bag alongside her surprise for later before dropping it to the floor, looking up just in time to see Shaw toss her wipes onto the deck below and advance on her, pressing her against the mast and letting her hands roam along the newly freed skin under her vest.

“I’m going to fuck you now,” she says against the curve of Root’s neck, her thumbs gliding along the underside of Root’s breasts.

“Please do,” Root breathes, and moves to shrug the vest from her shoulders.

Shaw’s hands dart to her wrists to stop her. “Leave it on.”

Root’s breath shudders at the command in her voice, scarcely having time to be smug about Shaw’s appreciation of her wardrobe choices before Shaw moves to kiss her again. The hat bumps Root’s forehead as they move against each other but her attention is split between Shaw’s lips on hers and her fingers at her breasts and the way Shaw’s muscles twist and tense under her grip as she roams her hands along Shaw’s arms. She manages to regain enough control of her limbs to slide a leg between Shaw’s, her sword clattering against the mast, and Shaw lets out a groan at the press of her thigh before biting Root’s lower lip and deepening the kiss.

Root briefly curses the lack of buttons on Shaw’s shirt before tugging it out from her trousers and slipping her hands under it, delighting in the shifting muscles of Shaw’s back as she moves against her. Shaw lets her hands fall from Root’s breasts to her hips and draw her closer, pressing them together as their lips grow increasingly erratic, seeking out all the sensation they have to give. Root twitches at the brush of Shaw’s fingertips against her belt and the button fly of her trousers, and she lets out a whimper when Shaw tugs them open and moves her mouth to her neck.

Shaw’s hand slips beneath her underwear and she hisses as Root’s nails scratch down her back in anticipation. A finger works its way between her legs and they both let out a moan at the sensation of warm skin against silky flesh and the realization of how incredibly wet Root is already. Root’s hands drop to Shaw’s ass and try to pull her closer, but Shaw draws back a little to look her up and down, eyeing the curve of her breasts just visible through the gap in her vest, down to the sword and pistol hanging loosely on either hip, and lingering at the place where her hand disappears beneath Root’s pants.

Her eyes flick up to meet Root’s, their intensity burning through Root nearly as much as the touch of her finger as it brushes lightly against her clit. Shaw’s head shakes a little, seemingly more at herself than at Root. “You’ve got no business looking this fucking hot in a goddamn pirate get-up, you know that right?”

She twists her hand and slips two fingers inside her before Root can reply, and Shaw watches the pleasure on her face before moving back in to suck on the skin at the base of her throat. It’s hardly fair that Shaw’s the one grumbling about how infuriatingly attractive she is when Root has been the one on the brink of a gay panic all day. She opens her mouth to say something to that effect but it comes out only as a strangled whimper as Shaw’s fingers curl just right and make her lose muscle tone in her legs for a moment, clutching at Shaw’s ass to keep herself upright.

Her fingers linger at Shaw’s ass just because they can, even as she steadies herself and focuses on the heat building within her at the rhythm of Shaw’s fingers, hard and firm strokes inside her that leave them both gasping for air at the ridiculous pleasure of it all. Shaw groans and leaves a deep bite at the side of Root's neck when Root manages to press a thigh in between hers, and Root seizes both the opportunity and Shaw’s hips, grinding Shaw against her in the same rhythm Shaw’s fingers are using to make her crawl out of her own skin.

Shaw manages to work around the tight confines of her trousers to withdraw a little and press three fingers back inside her, the sudden sensation of fullness serving only to make Root’s grip at Shaw’s hips tighten in desperation to make Shaw feel as incredible as she does. Shaw’s free hand moves to Root’s hip, pushing her against the mast and stilling her movements so she can focus on her apparent goal of driving Root out of her mind with her new rhythm of slow, lingering thrusts deep inside her.

“Sameen,” Root breathes. She’s not above begging, and as much as Shaw’s expression indicates she enjoys Root’s desperation, still she keeps her pace. Steady and intoxicating and so fucking good, but she’s been fantasizing about Shaw in this billowy white shirt all day and now here she is fucking her in it and she just won’t - “Oh, fuck.”

The angle of Shaw’s hand changes, and with it the rhythm of her thrusts and Root is gone. Shaw’s palm is rubbing against her clit and her fingers aren’t as deep but now they’re sliding against the ring of muscle just inside with such delicious pressure and Shaw’s lips meet hers in a desperate kiss as she fucks her over the edge, and Shaw’s throat rumbles in satisfaction as Root’s orgasm overtakes her and her muscles clench around Shaw’s fingers as she rides out wave after shuddering wave.

Shaw holds her up for long boneless moments, until Root feels her fingers slip out and trembles in her grip and opens her eyes. Her head has fallen back against the mast and she blinks, a dopey grin curling her lips.

“You made me see stars, sweetie,” she says, pointing up, and Shaw follows her gaze. The sun has long since set and the last vestiges of dusk have given way to the night sky, and even through the light pollution of the nearby city several stars have become visible.

“God, you’re such a nerd,” Shaw says, wiping her fingers off on her shirt, but doesn’t bother disguising the fondness in her voice.

Root reaches up and adjusts the hat on Shaw’s head. “Says the person who kept a pirate hat on during sex despite bemoaning how terrible and ridiculous it was earlier.”

Shaw raises a challenging eyebrow. “You want me to take it off?”

“Don’t you dare.”

“Uh huh.” Shaw looks her up and down again - apparently she has a thing for her hips in these pants, she’ll have to remember that for the future - and eyes her speculatively. “You want me to keep the hat on, or you want me to go down on you? Can’t do both.”

Root snatches the hat from Shaw's head and places it on her own, brushing down the stray flyaways of Shaw’s hat hair before tangling her fingers in it. “Don’t let me stop you,” she says, and Shaw smirks before turning her attention to her fingers at Root’s pants.

She works them down a bit, enough to expose the lettering on the waistband of her underwear, unmistakable even in the dim light of the ship’s security lights, and she pauses. “Why are you wearing Rodeohs?” Shaw’s fingers explore further and find the strap-on o-ring built into the front of the underwear, apparently confirming her suspicions.

Oh, right, Root had forgotten about those in all the excitement.

She lets her fingers fall from Shaw’s hair and gives her a winning grin. “Same reason I ever wear them, Sameen.” She picks up the bag next to her feet and after a moment of searching pulls out her favorite pack and play dildo with a flourish, resisting the urge to wave it in the air but only just.

Shaw looks at her as though she’s lost it. “I’m not letting you fuck me with a dildo that’s been in a nasty leather bag with all your nerd shit and spare clips in the hot sun all day.”

“That’s what condoms are for,” Root points out, nudging the bag with her foot. “What do you say, Sameen? Should I hoist the main sails?”

She wiggles the toy in front of the harness with a little thrust of her hips, but Shaw doesn’t take the bait and instead stares at her as though torn between Root’s obviously excellent idea and the desire not to enable Root’s scheming. Fortunately Root knows exactly how to deal with that - she hasn’t spent the past several years admiring Shaw’s existence without learning how to get under her skin in just the right way, after all.

Shaw’s eyes track her movements as Root pushes the dildo through the ring in the harness and tucks it away, fastening her trousers over the bulge. Root’s fingers glide over the curve and she sees Shaw’s throat bob as Root steps closer, bracketing Shaw against the railing of the crow’s nest with her arms and pressing the length of her body against her.

“That’s just not fair,” Shaw groans as Root shifts her hips forward and presses the toy between her legs. The uptick in Shaw's breathing betrays her, and Root’s pleased to confirm that Shaw’s just as affected by her packing as ever, even when it’s not a surprise.

Root guides Shaw to turn around with a hand at her hip, her other hand brushing her hair off to the side to press her lips to the back of Shaw’s neck. Shaw sinks back into her at the brush of her palm against her breast, and Root snakes the hand at her hip around to the front to cup her crotch through her pants as she grinds the toy against her ass. She lets her movements show the promise of what’s to come, letting a few soft bites linger at Shaw’s neck and savoring the rapid pulse she can feel there.

Shaw’s head falls back when Root sneaks her hand beneath her clothing and lets her middle finger dip into the wetness that’s only increasing with each passing moment. She can feel Shaw's rumbles of pleasure when the thumb and forefinger of her other hand come up to circle her throat, and she squeezes just enough to hear the catch of breath before letting go and stroking her clavicles instead. Root turns her head to murmur against Shaw’s ear and gives a slow rolling thrust of her hips and the toy against Shaw’s ass. “It’s a shame there’s not enough room up here for us to really put this to good use, don’t you think?”

A distracted hum is her only response, and Root nudges Shaw’s head forward with her shoulder, directing her attention to the deck below even as her finger circles Shaw’s clit. “That cannon down there looks like it’s just the right height for me to bend you over and fuck you, though.”

“I don’t know, Root,” Shaw says, her breath wavering a little when Root works past the awkward angle and manages to slip a finger inside her. “Seems like you already found some buried treasure.”

Root’s eyes shine with delight and she angles her body to kiss Shaw through her grin, her finger curling forward as her palm grinds against Shaw’s clit. Shaw moans into the kiss at the renewed press of Root’s hand against her throat and her hips work against Root’s in a matching rhythm that causes a delicious friction of the dildo against them both, and the sudden awareness of the sensation has Root breaking the kiss and biting Shaw’s lip and picking up the pace of her hand - she’s teased Shaw too much to not let her come now, but fuck Root needs to bend her over and get more than just a finger buried inside her.

She abandons the shallow thrusts of her finger in favor of rubbing frantic circles over Shaw’s clit - not the best technique, but effective, and one of Shaw’s hands accidentally knocks the hat off Root's head and tangles in her hair when she shouts out her sudden orgasm against Root’s mouth. A moment passes as Root’s fingers slow and guide her through the trembling aftershocks, then she stumbles backwards against the mast as Shaw whips around and presses herself against her and claims her lips in a deep, desperate kiss.

“Fuck me against that damn cannon already,” Shaw breathes, squeezing a hand against the bulge in Root’s pants before tearing herself away to swing a leg over the edge of the crow’s nest.

Root smiles and slings her bag over her shoulder as she takes a step forward. “It’ll be explosive,” she promises, and Shaw rolls her eyes and grabs hold of the rope ladder. She seems to contemplate something for a moment, and unbuckles the scabbard from her belt and tosses it to the deck with an unceremonious clatter - a good bit of foresight that Root readily copies when she tries to work out the logistics of climbing down a glorified net in her current state with a sword loosely attached to her hip. Root watches Shaw descend for a moment before following, the exaggerated movements necessary to climb down the netting making her all too aware of the pressure of the dildo against her clit.

She’s scarcely set foot back on the comparatively solid ground of the main deck before Shaw has seized her by the arms and walked her backwards toward the nearest cannon, her lips both soft and unyielding against Root’s own. Shaw’s hands glide across Root’s vest and under the open gap, palming her breasts as Root fumbles blindly for the condom in the side pocket of her bag. The soft material of Shaw’s shirt ripples in the wind against Root’s skin, Shaw’s touch burning her chest with every press of her fingertips even as she trembles in anticipation.

Her fingers finally alight upon the condom and she presses it against Shaw’s ribs, breaking away from the kiss. “Do the honors, Sameen?”

Shaw crinkles the packet in her palm before flashing her a devilish half smirk that is somehow all the more devastatingly attractive than usual - Root had anticipated that the undercover wardrobe for this mission would be particularly enjoyable, but she somehow underestimated the true effect Shaw as a pirate captain would have on her. Although, she considers as Shaw bends and starts leaving a trail of bites and kisses down the path of Root’s chest exposed by the gaping vest, clearly she’s not the only one whose mind has been left to flounder in the gutter.

Root’s hands scramble to find purchase on the cannon behind her as Shaw sinks to her knees and makes quick work of opening the fastening of Root’s trousers. She shucks Root’s clothing down just enough to untuck the dildo and her mouth fixes to the curve of Root’s hipbone while she tears open the packet. Shaw’s gaze catches Root’s as her fingers deftly roll the condom onto the toy, and Root doesn’t know how she isn’t spontaneously combusting at the sight of Shaw looking up at her like that, her eyes burning bright and flicking between Root and the dildo, on her knees in that outfit with her mouth so close and all it would take is a slight shift of Root’s hips -

She tugs on one of Shaw’s arms and Shaw lets herself be pulled to her feet, Root’s fingers grasping for Shaw’s pants. “Next time,” she promises, and Shaw hums and turns them so she’s the one pressed against the cannon.

“It’s a really fucking good view,” Shaw says, batting Root’s hands away and shoving her own clothing down her hips. Root surges forward and presses them together, Shaw groaning low in her throat at the press of the dildo against her naked flesh, and Root gets lost in Shaw's mouth for a long moment before remembering the goal here and returning to her bag for one last thing. “Enough with the damn wet wipes, Root,” Shaw complains, a hand grasping Root’s hip to pull her closer.

Root reveals a small bottle of lube and tosses the bag to the deck. “Safety first, Sameen,” Root says, and squeezes an entirely excessive amount along the length of the dildo before dropping the bottle alongside the discarded bag and guiding Shaw to turn around with a hand at her hip. Shaw readily complies and Root bites her lip at the sight of her bent over the cannon, ass thrust out toward her, a hand reaching out in search of Root’s skin.

She steps forward, a hand at the base of the dildo to hold it steady and the other hand smoothing along Shaw’s ass, and slides it along Shaw’s already soaked folds to smear the lube across the toy - not the most effective method, but her hands are probably nasty again from the climb down the rope ladder and it’s not like Shaw really needs the lube anyway with how incredibly wet she already is. Shaw twitches as the toy brushes against her clit and Root draws back enough to watch as she lines up the head against Shaw’s entrance.

She smirks to herself. “You ready to walk my plank, Shaw?”

Shaw scarcely has time to reply before Root pushes inside, but she’s pretty sure the groan she hears escaping Shaw’s lips is from the sudden relief of the tension that’s been building inside her rather than a reaction to Root’s spectacular wit. The thought quickly gets shoved to the side as Shaw pushes back against her and the base of the dildo grinds into Root’s clit, and Root seizes Shaw’s hips so she can keep to a steady pace of shallow thrusts that won’t drive her out of her mind before she gets Shaw there.

The muscles of Shaw’s back are visible through the sweat-soaked fabric of her shirt and Root takes a moment to admire them as Shaw struggles to keep herself steady against the cannon and Root’s movements inside her. Root's nails dig into the skin at Shaw’s hips as she drops her gaze to the dildo and the way Shaw’s body trembles as she almost completely withdraws, letting the ridge of the head rub teasing circles just inside, before pushing back in as deep as she can go.

Shaw’s head falls forward, throwing her shoulder blades into sharp relief in the moonlight. Root can only just make out the faint fuck that Shaw breathes out as Root repeats the motion, overloading her with drawn out sensation that spreads throughout every nerve in her body.

“Fuck, Root,” Shaw repeats, and looking down at the meeting of their bodies and hearing the delightful wet sound of her thrusts and Shaw’s ragged breathing, Root can’t help but agree.

“Need something, sweetie?

Shaw shifts against the cannon and pushes back against Root with the force of her need, and Root stumbles a bit even as she gasps at the burst of sensation. “Quit acting like you didn’t need this as much as I did and fuck me.”

Root hums and presses a hand to Shaw’s back as she withdraws again. Shaw’s got her there, there’s no denying it, but there is still one matter to attend to. “You know what I want to hear, Shaw,” she says, pushing in at a slightly different angle, and Shaw curses appreciatively at the movement.

“Please,” Shaw says once she’s caught her breath, and if Root had known that a scandalous leather vest was all it took to get that easy of a please out of Shaw, she’d have broken into a kink shop ages ago. Even so, it's not what she’s been trying to get Shaw to say all day.

“Not quite,” Root says, snaking a hand under Shaw’s shirt and around to stroke a thumb over a nipple. Her hips have come mostly to a standstill with the dildo buried inside Shaw, abandoning her thrusts in favor of a circling motion that is probably more distracting to herself than to Shaw. There’s silence for a moment longer as Shaw tries to will her brain to work through the haze of lust and sweat they’ve built up, then -

“Fuck.” Root grins at her apparent realization and Shaw tosses a look over her shoulder before saying, not without a hint of amusement, “just shiver my goddamn timbers already, Root.”

“Gladly,” she says, moving both of her hands back to Shaw’s hips, and the sound that comes out of Shaw when she starts up a rapid pace of deep thrusts is nothing short of obscene. Root lets out a moan of her own at the pounding friction against her clit, aided by Shaw’s frantic movements against her, and it’s a good thing she’d held Shaw off before this - if it’s already getting this hard to focus on keeping a rhythm instead of seeking out her own pleasure then there would have been no hope for her ability to satisfy Shaw if Root had let her grind the dildo back against her from the start.

Root leans forward, pressing against Shaw’s back and bracing her hands on the cannon next to Shaw’s. The new angle affords her less room to thrust as deeply inside Shaw as before, but judging by Shaw’s enthusiastic moan it serves to strike her g-spot with every stroke. Root’s vest has fallen open to either side of Shaw, letting Root revel in the heat of the sweat-slick skin through Shaw’s shirt against her own, and she brings a hand up and under Shaw’s shirt to pinch at one of her nipples as she buries her face in the hair at Shaw’s neck. She’s utterly surrounded by Shaw, and she’s not going to last much longer.

Shaw falls forward a little when Root delivers a sharp twisting thrust, but quickly recovers her matching rhythm against Root, her hips driving the friction against Root and drawing another moan out of her. Root’s hand falls from her breast down her chest, smoothing over her abdomen, before her middle finger reaches out and strokes against Shaw’s clit. She’s pretty sure Shaw will forgive her for not cleaning her hands off after climbing down the rope ladder and manhandling the cannon - Shaw’s the one who told her to forego it this time, after all - especially since it takes only the slightest touch of her fingertip to make Shaw’s breath catch and her body shudder.

“Yeah, Sameen,” she murmurs into Shaw’s ear, and Shaw turns her head but the angle is too awkward for their lips to meet. Their stuttering breaths mingle as Root draws patternless circles over Shaw’s clit and fucks her with an increasing desperation that Shaw clearly shares as her hips drive into Root and her hand clutches at the one Root left behind on the cannon. Root’s finger darts down to gather up some of the wetness and brushes against the dildo, and the brief contact fills her mind with images of the way Shaw’s body hungrily took in the toy when she first pushed inside.

An intense heat rolls through her and she bites down at Shaw’s neck. Her finger abandons all finesse and rubs pure frantic friction against Shaw’s clit, her hips scarcely pulling out before thrusting back in, and feels the rumbles of a drawn out moan start in Shaw’s throat half a second before Shaw’s hips freeze and her body tenses as her orgasm overwhelms her. Root’s fairly certain she can feel the tightening of Shaw’s muscles around the dildo as she stands straight and seizes Shaw’s hips, taking the last bit of what she needs with Shaw’s breathless encouragement.

Her hips chase down her orgasm with a few slamming thrusts against Shaw’s ass, and it’s all she can do to stay upright as her body shortcircuits with the force of sensation flowing through her. Shaw’s hand tightens its grip on Root’s as they both work through the waves of pleasure, Root falling forward against Shaw’s back before both of their legs give up on trying to remain standing and they collapse against the railing of the deck, Shaw giving an indignant yelp as the dildo slips out of her.

She lets herself fall back onto the deck and hears Shaw do the same next to her after hiking her pants up enough to keep her bare skin from touching the deck. Root looks up at the sky past the rigging of the masts and smiles to herself. “Guess I made you see stars now, sweetie.”

Shaw throws out a hand toward Root, a half-assed admonishment that does nothing but land on Root’s stomach. She lets it linger there and Root loosely tangles their fingers together as they catch their breath.

After long moments Shaw squeezes her hand and puffs a strand of hair out of her eyes. “Do I even want to know what else you packed in that bag of yours?”

“Don’t pretend you don’t like what I pack for you, Sameen.” Root lets go of Shaw’s hand and pulls the condom off the dildo before working it out of the harness, casting it aside.

“Ugh, I’m so weak for that shit and you know it.” Shaw flicks Root’s exposed hip. “Not fair.”

Maybe taking advantage of Shaw’s love for Root having a dildo tucked away in her pants was fighting dirty, but Root is weak for Shaw’s entire existence so she thinks she’s in the clear. She turns her head to mention this to Shaw, only to find Shaw gazing back at her with a knowing smirk on her face. Root smiles and scoots closer to her, and Shaw takes the hint and rolls herself up on one arm to lean over and kiss her.

Root hums happily against Shaw’s mouth, Shaw’s lips moving against hers in a gentle motion that tingles down Root’s spine, a stark contrast to the frenetic movements of earlier. The kiss lingers for a while, Root’s fingers tangled in Shaw’s hair, until Shaw pulls away and drops her shoulder, settling on her side next to Root. A sharp ocean breeze makes itself known now that they’re not focused on other, more important things, and Root feels goosebumps raise along her exposed chest before one of Shaw’s hands comes to rest against Root’s sternum, her elbow at her stomach.

Shaw’s warmth emanates through her shirt sleeve, a pleasant balm against the chill. Root draws up one side of her vest to cover more of her skin and lets her hand fall to rest on Shaw’s forearm. “I don’t know about you, Shaw,” Root says, her thumb trailing back and forth along Shaw’s wrist, “but I would definitely be okay with more missions on pirate themed tourist trap dinner cruises.”

Shaw is silent for a beat, and Root angles her head to see Shaw giving her a thorough once-over and nodding. “Fine by me.”

Root smiles, and Shaw shifts a little before looking at her with a gleam in her eye.

“But only if they all end up rated arrrr.”