Masterlist (Revised April 2023)

Multi Part Fics:

By Fandom and Character:

(Click on the link to be taken to a secondary masterlist to search by character. Some links will redirect to a singular character masterlist if I've only written for 1 character.)

“Angel, you home?”

Bradley’s voice is so loud from the front door that there’s no way you can miss it, or the sound of him kicking off his shoes and shoving them into the shoe rack. You turn the television volume down a little bit and call out to him, letting him know you’re home.

He wanders into the living room a second later, running a hand over his hair.

The sight of him immediately brings a smile to your face.

“Hey, handsome,” you smile up at him. “Welcome home.”

Bradley sinks down on the couch beside you and wraps his arms around you, pressing a kiss to the side of your head. “What are you watching? Anything I’d like?”

“Course not,” you grin. “Couldn’t start a show you’d like without you, could I?”

It’s only then that Bradley notices what you’re wearing. He recognises the shirt, can even smell his own cologne on it. He hasn’t seen the shirt in weeks – just two days ago he’d been confused over its disappearance, wondering how he could lose a whole shirt.

“Where did you find this?” He asks, tugging gently on the fabric.

You look between him and the shirt and then smile sheepishly and start to pull the blanket that was on your lap up over the shirt, as if you’re trying to hide it. “It was just in the washing.”

Bradley shakes his head. “No, angel, it wasn’t.” An idea pops into his mind. “Have you had this all along? It’s been missing for a few weeks now.”

It’s then that you realise you have no choice but to come clean to him. He’s seen it now and there’s no hiding it anymore – you hadn’t expected him home for another hour or two and had planned to take it off and hide it away again before he arrived.

“Okay, don’t hate me…”

“I could never.”

“Remember a few weeks ago? We went out for dinner at that new pub?” You begin and Bradley nods in understanding. “And then we came home and…” You trail off.

Bradley smiles to himself. “And then we came home and threw all our clothes on the floor and I made love to you?”

“Yeah, that,” you chuckle. “Well, when you got up the next morning and left for work, I was the one who ended up picking up our clothes, and I noticed that this shirt just… well, it smelt like you, and it made me feel like you were here with me, so I kind of… shoved it in my bottom drawer and have been wearing it whenever I miss you. It makes it feel like I’m getting a Bradley hug when you’re not here.”

He looks at you for a few moments. That was the last thing Bradley had expected you to say. He’d had no idea where the story was going, but it was certainly not this. His heart feels warmer, though, upon hearing your words, and his love for you is stronger than ever.

“Why didn’t you just tell me, angel?” He tugs you into his chest, one of his hands starting to draw patterns on your back instinctively. “Would’ve saved me looking for it for so long.”

“I don’t know,” you say, wrapping your arms around him to keep him close. You can smell the cologne on the shirt he’s wearing, and it’s much, much better than smelling him through a few weeks old t-shirt. “I was worried you thought it’d be strange.”

Bradley shakes his head. “I don’t think it’s strange at all. It’s pretty damn cute, actually.”

“You think so?” You look up at him.

“I do,” he nods, and then leans down to peck your lips. “You wear it better than me anyway. But…”

You furrow your eyebrows. “But what?”

Bradley leans down so his lips are by your ear. “Now that I’m here, you don’t need an old t-shirt to remind you of me, so how about we… remove it?” His fingers start to play with the hem of your shirt and he moves back to see the look in your eyes.

“Deal,” you smirk, “but only if yours comes off too…”

“I am not training you in hand-to-hand combat.”

August was adamant that if you were going to learn, you weren’t going to learn from him. You weren’t a field agent, you were an analyst. You had no place in the field and had no intentions to switch departments, and yet – you wanted to learn. 

“Oh, come on, Walker,” you crossed your arms over your chest and frowned at him. 

It was well known that Agent Walker was one of the best men in the whole CIA when it came to fighting and combat. He’d taken down plenty of people during his time on the job. He was strong, he was tall, he was everything you really needed to be to be a field agent. You knew it was a little silly of you to want to learn, but it didn’t hurt to be prepared.

August shook his head. “I’m not budging.”

You considered your options. Either you could give up and just try and find someone else to teach you, or you could play to August’s tune and try and convince him in a way you knew he’d never be able to say no to. 

“Are you just afraid that I might end up being better than you?” You leant back in your chair and stared at him across the table. “I could be hiding some insane skills up my sleeve.”

He looked at you and raised his eyebrows. “You are adorable. You think you can beat me?”

“Oh, I certainly think I could try.”

You could see the wheels turning in his mind, see him considering whether or not he should rise to the bait and really go along with this or whether he should shoot you down again. 

Much to your joy, he chose the former.

“Fine,” he said. “11am tomorrow in the gym. We’ll see how you go at beating me.”

With a grin, you leant across the table towards him. “I’m gonna make you regret ever saying yes to me, you know. There’s no turning back now, Walker.”

August was fighting a smile himself. “Oh, just you wait and see.”

One thing Jake Seresin never lets you forget is that he loves you.

His first ‘I love you’ always comes right at the start of the day. It doesn’t matter if you’ve slept over at his place the night before or if you’re waking up in your own bed. He’ll lean over and press a soft kiss to your forehead, whispering a quiet “I love you” before he gets out of bed to start getting ready for work or he’ll grab his phone the second he wakes up and send you a morning message for you to wake up to, reminding you to drink water, have a good day and most of all - to remember that he loves you.

You’re used to receiving many texts from him during the day when you’re both at your respective jobs. Your coworkers have often asked you why your phone buzzes so much, questioned if your boyfriend is clingy because he texts you so much, and you’ve explained countless times that the messages are just simple. He never asks for a reply. He’s never trying to interrupt you when you’re busy. He’s not being clingy. He’s just letting you know that he loves you, reminding you that there is someone on your side if you’re having a bad day, or brightening it up even more if you’re having a good one.

When you finally get to see each other again when you’re home from work, he’s showering your face in kisses, especially focusing on your lips but also making sure your cheeks, nose, forehead, eyelids and chin also get some attention. In-between every kiss, he’s muttering a quiet “I love you” just in case you somehow forgot after the million times he’s told you today. He’s keeping a hand on the small of your back as he helps you cook dinner, not stepping too far away from you but also making sure he doesn’t get in your way. Keeping an eye out to make sure you don’t accidentally burn yourself or cut yourself with the knife as you chop up the vegetables – that’s why he usually volunteers to do that job himself.

Later that night when you pop into the Hard Deck for some late night drinks and a game of pool before you both call it a night, Jake’s hand still remains on your back. He holds your drink and your handbag for you when you duck to the bathroom or disappear for a moment to talk to someone you recognise. An eye on you and an eye on whoever he’s having a conversation with. Whenever you return to his side, he presses a kiss to the top of your head and whispers “I love you” in your ear.

It doesn’t matter if you fall asleep beside him later that night or if you fall asleep in your own bed after he drops you off home, you’re getting told again before you fall asleep. If you’re in his arms, his warmth helping you drift off to sleep, another kiss is pressed to your temple and the words “I love you” accompanied by a “Goodnight, gorgeous” are spoken. If you’re at home, you’re drifting off to sleep with the picture of Jake’s message in your mind, wishing you a wonderful sleep, wishing that you feel rested in the morning, wishing that you dream of him and yet another reminder of just how much he loves you and how he always will.

Grace nearly fell in love with you the second she laid eyes on you. She wasn’t supposed to. She was in a bar for a job, meant to be pick-pocketing something from a mark that she was tailing. But there you were – the unassuming bartender, just doing your job, and Grace couldn’t tear her eyes away from you. 

She had things to do and here she was, staring at you like some creep across the bar. Every time you laughed at something one of your coworkers said, every time you smiled at a customer, she fell more and more head over heels for you and she didn’t even know your name. Oh, she was well and truly done for.

It was only when the man she was tailing went up to the bar to order a drink and ended up ordering one from you that she remembered that she was working and had things to be doing. She pushed the hair out of her face and took a sip of her own drink, keeping her eyes focused on the man as he waited for his drink to be ready, his fingers tapping to the beat of the song on the bar. 

She watched as he shoved a hand into his pocket and pulled something out, her eyes focusing on it. The USB. That was what she was here for. The man clearly had no idea how expensive what was on it was or he wouldn’t have been flaunting it around the bar. 

You returned with his drink, sliding it over to him across the bar and asking him how he was going to pay. He handed over a $10 note. Grace watched in horror as he sat the USB down on the bar to pick up his drink and have a sip of it. Then, he picked it back up and slipped it back inside his pocket.

Grace started to drift closer towards the bar. This would be a good time to swipe it, she decided. She kept an eye on you, too, as you walked back up to him. 

“I’m out of change, I’ve just got to get some from out the back,” you said to the man.

Grace expected you to go out the back of the bar, but she watched, confused, as you lifted up part of the bar and came out into the main part of the bar, joining the crowd. She was even more confused as you walked towards her and then, right in front of her, she watched as you carefully swiped the USB out of the mans pocket and then walked right past Grace and through a door not far behind her.

She spun around, watching as the door closed.

You’d just taken the USB. You’d done exactly what Grace was here to do. Maybe you weren’t just a normal bartender after all… 

Grace looked between the door and the man and then made her decision, sitting her drink down on the nearest table and heading towards the door. She was surprised the door wasn’t locked as she opened it and stepped inside the room, closing the door behind her.

You looked up at the sight of the door opening, pausing in your motions of putting the USB in your bag. “This is a staff only area.” You said, clearing your throat and standing up straight. 

“Then why are you here?” Grace raised her eyebrows. “Besides, you have something of mine. I’m going to need that,” she nodded towards your bag, knowing you’d get the meaning of her words.

You furrowed your eyebrows. “I am staff, so that’s why I’m here. And I don’t know what you’re talking about.” You crossed your arms across your chest. “I’ve never seen you before.”

Grace smiled to herself. Oh, so you were going to play that game. “Who hired you?”

You stared at her for a moment. She’d seen you swipe the USB… and clearly she knew that you’d been hired by someone, which meant she had been too. You’d been told you were the only one who knew about the USB, so how could someone else be here for it?

“Who hired you?” You questioned back. 

Grace held her hand out. “Hand it over and I’ll tell you.”

“Not going to happen, I’m afraid.”

“Fine,” Grace shrugged a shoulder. “Then let’s go.”

“Go where?” You frowned. 

She took a few steps towards you and took your hand in hers. You looked down at your now entwined hands, confused. Who the hell was this woman?

“Let’s go to wherever the person who hired you is waiting for you to drop off this USB,” Grace explained. “Because I have a feeling you and I might have been sent here by the same person, and I’d quite like the satisfaction of seeing their face when we show up together. You?”

It was impossible for you not to smile at her words. Even you had to admit that this whole situation was a little strange, especially if her hunch was right and you had been hired by the same person. If not, you’d be delivering someone of potential use to the person who’d hired you. It was a win-win in your situation. 

“Okay,” you smiled at her. “I’ll lead the way.”

You’re more focused on Benji’s voice in your ear instructing Ethan on where to go than you are on yourself, and that’s exactly why you don’t notice the man coming up behind you until the very last second. Your instincts kick in, then, and you spin in an attempt to dodge him as he swipes his knife towards you.

It misses you by pure luck.

You’re not quite lucky enough for the second swipe.

It slashes through the upper sleeve of your shirt and you can feel the blood starting to seep down your shoulder and coat the white cloth red. It stings, but you try not to let that distract you anymore than you already are. 

“Could do with a hand here, guys,” you say into the comms.

The man across from you narrows his eyes at you calling for backup. 

He takes that as a chance though, diving towards you. You dodge him again, swiftly kicking out your foot and sending him tumbling to the ground. There’s no use running. He’s taller, has longer legs and will catch up with you in no time. You just have to hold out until backup arrives and you can get rid of him. 

That’s the problem with this being one of your very first missions. You’re not quite as confident in your abilities as the rest of your team is. They’re all seasoned agents. You are not.

The man stands to his feet and you can tell you’ve made him mad by tripping him over. You let out a breath just as he dodges towards you again, but the one thing you’d missed is that he’d pulled another knife from his pocket while he’d been on the ground. You only notice when you feel it sink into your side. You let out a gasp at the feeling. It’s much worse than the slight sting from the cut on your arm.

Before you can do anything else, you hear a gunshot and the man in front of you sinks to the ground, taking the knife with him. You can’t help but follow him to the ground, sliding down the wall, your hands going to put pressure on the wound on your side as you look to see who had saved you – well, tried to.

You let out a breath of relief as you see Ethan running towards you. He skids to his knees beside you, his eyes focused only on the blood soaking your arm and his hands move to inspect it the cut. 

“You okay?” His voice is panicked. 

“I’m okay,” you nod at him, wincing a bit as he moves your arm. 

He looks at you properly then, and that’s when his eyes drift down to your blood covered hands pressing into your side. He’s on the other side of you instantly, swearing as you move your hands so he can see the stab wound. 

“You are not okay,” he says, a hint of anger in his voice. “I thought I got here in time.”

“It’s okay, Ethan,” you do your best to smile at him. “I’m glad you got here when you did.”

Ethan shakes his head. “I’m sorry, I should have been quicker.”

If your hands weren’t covered in blood, you’d reach up and make him look at you instead of the wound on your side. His eyes seem to have trouble leaving it.

“Hey, Ethan,” you try. “Look at me. Look at me.”

A little regretfully, his eyes make their way to yours, but keep flickering down to your hands on the wound. 

“You have nothing to be sorry for, okay? Just… please get me to a hospital so I can get this looked out cause I really don’t wanna stay bleeding out here in this alley.” 

Ethan nods and then takes a deep breath, composing himself. “I’m gonna help you stand up, okay, but I’m gonna need you to keep pressure on that? You think you can do that?”

“I’ve got this,” you nod. 

He helps you stand up slowly and with as minimal pain on your part as possible. 

“Hey, Ethan,” you say as soon as you’re standing up.

“You okay?” He asks, worried.

“Thank you for saving my life.”

“No more,” you hum, taking a step back from Jake. He’s had more than a few drinks and the poor man is becoming more and more pouty by the second and you know that his friends and fellow pilots will never let him live this down if you don’t try and put an end to it. “I’m going home, baby. You wanna come with me?”

Jake effortlessly weaves an arm around your waist, pulling you back towards him and pressing you against his chest. “But we’re having such a nice time, aren’t we? And I can’t go yet! Javy and I made a bet for $50 that I’d leave before him, and I don’t wanna lose!”

You look over at Javy, standing only a few feet away from you, and he smiles sheepishly. “He probably won’t remember any of this in the morning if you wanna just take him home.”

Jake tightens his grip on your waist, not wanting to let you go. “Stay, baby.”

With a sigh, you lean in and press a kiss to his lips. Jake seems to enjoy this, his spare hand moving to gently hold the back of your head as his lips move against yours. Even though he’s incredibly drunk and you can taste the alcohol, his kiss is still patient and gentle, as are all of his kisses unless he intentionally makes them more passionate. 

Your attempt at a quick kiss is smashed to smithereens.

You attempt to pull away from the kiss, pressing your hands on his chest, and Jake lets you, not wanting to keep you doing something like that against your will. His grasp on your waist loosens as well. “You okay, baby?” He asks, a tinge of worry in his slurred voice.

“I’m going home now, Jake, okay?” You reach up with one of your hands to stroke his hair. It’s something he always loves when you do, usually something that helps him relax, too.

This time, though, he doesn’t notice as he’s too focused on your words. You’re going home. You’re leaving him. “Wait, no,” he shakes his head. “Don’t take kissing away from me.”

Against your better judgment, your lips quirk up into a smile. You also hear the beginning of laughter from a few of the other pilots around you. Oh, Jake has dug his hole now, you think. He’s never going to live this one down. But now, you also have your means to get him out of here before he digs his hole any deeper.

“If you wanna keep the kissing, you gotta come home with me now, Jake,” you explain.

Jake stares at you for a moment and then sighs, giving in. “Okay,” he pouts. “I’ll go home.”

Javy helps you take Jake out to the cab and also pays for the trip home – his way of ending the bet, just in case Jake does remember in the morning. Jake is sleepy and slightly starting to sober up when you reach your house and the two of you go inside.

“Can I have another kiss now?” He asks as he sits down on the edge of your bed. 

You smile and wander over to him. “Just one, and then bed. Okay?”

Jake nods sleepily. The alcohol and the late night having finally caught up to him. You give him two minutes tops before he’s passed out cold. You dread the hangover he’s going to have in the morning.

You stand in-between his legs and cup his face gently in your hands before you press your lips to his. Jake kisses you back instantly.

“Was that worth coming home for?” You ask after you pull away.

Jake nods. “It will be if I can have one more.”

You can’t help but laugh at him. It was a good thing you got him out of the bar when you did, then, you think, or else he’d be severely regretting his choices in the morning even more than he already was going to. 

Out of the entire team, Luther and Ethan are the only two that are smart enough to keep their mouths shut when you and Ilsa enter the room together. Benji, on the other hand, is bright but not quite bright enough to put two and two together like the others do and his bad habit of speaking before he thinks gets the better of him.

The second he spots the hickey-like mark on your neck, his mouth drops open in a gape.

“Is that a hickey?” He points towards you.

Your hand instinctively moves to your neck, covering the mark, and you curse under your breath. You’d thought that the collar of your shirt would do a good enough job at hiding it, but the wind outside must have sabotaged you.

You’re about to reply when Ilsa beats you to it.

“What it is or it isn’t is none of your business, Benji,” she says.

He narrows his eyes and looks between the two of you, confused. 

Ethan, smiling, claps a hand on his shoulder. “Come on. We have work to do.” He flashes a grin at you and Ilsa and then tugs Benji off to the computers on the desk in the middle of the room. There was, after all, a mission to be completed.

Benji mutters something to Ethan as the two of them walk away. 

“Smooth, Ilsa,” you look over at her, amused. 

“It’s not my fault he isn’t quick enough to put two and two together,” Ilsa shrugs a shoulder and then moves to stand in front of you. “Now, let me fix this.” She gently takes the collar of your shirt in her hands and starts to fix it, moving it so that it will cover up the hickey she’d left on your neck the night before. Her fingers brush your neck and send chills down your spine. 

Then, she starts removing the tie from her own outfit and starts to thread it through the collar of your shirt before tying it. “That’ll keep it more secure when we head out,” she says. “I don’t quite understand why you want to keep it hidden, but I won’t argue.”

“Thank you,” you smile, reaching up and taking one of her hands in yours. You thread your fingers through hers and give her hand a squeeze. “For understanding. And for having my back, even if it is just Benji being Benji.”

Ilsa smiles and leans in to press a kiss to your cheek. She doesn’t care if the others are watching, and maybe if they are things will finally click for Benji. “Always.”

She gives your hand a squeeze in return. “Shall we go save the world now?”

“I suppose that sounds like a good way to spend a Monday.”

okay this is straight up the sweetest message i have ever gotten 😭😭😭 i love that my writing was able to comfort you so much, it's so nice to hear that and so nice to hear that you tried so hard to find me again!! i hope you loved binging the mission drabbles again and i hope you'll enjoy the new ones i'm gonna start writing very soon!! thank you so much for taking the time to send this. it made my day!!! 💗

Just got out of seeing Dead Reckoning for the third time and I'm seriously so in love with our new characters – Grace and Degas in particular. I really wanna explore their characters more in my writing!

It was always a good thing that you lived within walking distance of the Hard Deck. Jake was always grateful because you allowed him to crash at yours when he’d had a bit to drink and couldn’t be bothered paying for a cab to take him home.

In your opinion, there was no reason for him to waste money on a cab when he could take your spare bedroom and you could drive him home tomorrow when you were both sober. That was what friends did, right?

It didn’t ever get too cold there but sometimes, with the breeze off the water and the fact that it was mid-January and therefore winter, it did get a little chilly on the late night walks back to your apartment. You always brought a coat along when you headed to the Hard Deck in winter anyway, knowing you’d need it on your walk home.

One thing you didn’t tend to bring, though, were gloves, and tonight the weather outside was colder than usual and even shoving your hands into the pocket of your coat wasn’t doing a very good job at keeping them warm.

You looked over at Jake, about to say something to him, when you noticed that a moth had landed on his shoulder. You reached out absentmindedly and grabbed his arm, stopping him. “Stay still for a second, there’s a moth on you,” you said, carefully shooing it off of his shoulder. It flew off into the darkness.

Jake looked at you, eyebrows raised, and then turned to face you. Your hand dropped from his arm but he was quick to take it in his own. “Darlin, I could feel how cold your hand is through my sleeve. Your hands are way too cold,” he shook his head and chuckled a little and then took you off guard by weaving his fingers through yours. “I’ll warm them up.”

“What are you doing?” You asked as he started walking again.

“Put your other hand in your pocket,” he instructed, and then he pulled the hand of yours that he was holding and shoved it, along with his hand, inside the pocket of his own coat. “And this one I’ll keep warm in here. Double the warmth.”

You had no choice but to go along with his plan. “Seresin, we’re nearly at my house. I’ll warm my hands up as soon as I get home, so you can let me go.”

“Not happening, darlin,” he shook his head and then looked over at you with his signature cocky smile. “Don’t bother trying to convince me. This hand,” he gave the hand he was holding a squeeze, “is my property until we get back to yours and it’s my job to make sure it warms up and stays that way.”

You couldn’t help but smile at the tone of Jake’s voice. “Fine, I’ll allow it. I’ll go shopping tomorrow and buy some gloves for next time though.”

Jake smiled to himself. Maybe he could find a way to make the gloves go missing so he had an excuse to hold your hand again every time you walked back to your place after the bar…