Fic: Leverage (Eliot/Hardison), Numb3rs (multi), NCIS:LA (Sam/G)
NCIS: LA fic, Sam/G, G spends his weekend as a rent boy, Sam find out.
http://archiveofourown.org/works/454301
Leverage fic:
Title: Roleplay
For kinkbingo for doms/subs
Hardison moaned as Eliot gripped him lightly by the back of the neck. Eliot had tied Alec’s hands behind his back and he was seated on the couch in his boxers, waiting for Eliot to decide what to do next.
He leaned over to Alec’s ear, to whisper some delicious threat, Alec thought, but then Eliot’s lips were nibbling on his earlobe, and Alec closed his eyes to savor the sensation.
“Ready to obey some orders?” Eliot said in a low growl.
“Mm. Obedience. Definitely.”
“Lie down on your stomach.”
Alec moved awkwardly with his hands being still tied. But as fast as he could, he moved the position Eliot had said.
“Lie still. Don’t move, don’t make a sound no matter what I do,” Eliot said, heat in his voice.
Alec nodded his acquiescence, wondering what he had planned. Eliot never took it too far - in fact, usually Hardison had to push and wheedle to get Eliot to be even a little rough. But there was a sharpness to Eliot’s tone that made a little spark of anxiety, of anticipation, crackle up and down his body.
He thought about all the ways that Eliot might hurt him. Not all the ways Eliot could hurt him, because that got into non-sexy territory very quickly. But all the things Eliot might do tonight. Usually he was so overprotective it made Alec want to just tell him where to shove his concern, but once in a while Eliot got it in his head that Alec really needed a challenge.
Those nights were hard. In the best possible way.
Eliot waited for a while before starting, and Alec absolutely knew that Eliot was doing it on purpose, making Alec’s head fill up with fears and fantasies until he could barely stand it.
He knew that that’s what Eliot was doing. Doesn’t mean it didn’t work.
Then, something soft. Eliot’s tongue on his lower back, licking a long firm line up his spine.
“Mmmm…” Hardison voiced with pleasure.
A hard smack on Hardison’s ass.
“I told you, no noise,” Eliot said, and Hardison could just hear the bastard’s smirk in his voice.
Eliot straddled Alec then and started to massage his back. Strong fingers kneading his muscles, relaxing them, working them over until….
“Mmm…. Wait, Eliot, that doesn’t count. Eliot -- ”
A blistering smack on the ass, making Alec whimper.
“Last warning. If you can’t follow orders, I’m throwing you in the brig,” Eliot said, teasingly.
The what? Alec thought.
Eliot moved off of Alec then. He stood over him and reached his hand between Alec’s legs, rubbing a thumb on the back of Alec’s balls.
Alec didn’t make a sound.
He knows that for sure because he was biting down on the couch cushion to make sure of it.
But while he was doing that, he forgot about the “no moving” rule and started to rut, ever so slightly against the couch.
“That’s it,” Eliot said, and lifted Hardison off the couch and threw him over his shoulder and carried him to the bedroom. As much as Hardison wanted to object to the impossibility of obeying those particular rules under those particular circumstances, he didn’t actually want Eliot to stop.
When they were done - when they were sated and happy and wrapped up around each other in a mess of sweat and warmth - they lay quietly for a long time.
Finally, Eliot said with a proud smile, “I bet you didn’t think I could be that good a Captain.”
“Oh, is that what you were doing? Like a pirate captain?”
Eliot’s face scrunched up in annoyance. “You think that was me being a pirate!??”
“Kidding! Kidding, Eliot. Umm… no, I know who were playing.”
“You’ve only been asking me to be him FOREVER!”
“Captain Jack Harkness? Oh, wait, was I Ianto or the Doctor. Please say the Doctor. Ten. No, nine. No-- ”
“Who? What? I was Captain Kirk! You said you wanted to do Kirk/Spock!!” Eliot said, looking genuinely offended.
“Really? You think Kirk cares if Spock follows orders?”
“I wore a red T-shirt!!!” Eliot yelled.
Hardison looked at him. He knew the man didn’t exactly do costumes. But if this was his best effort at being Kirk…
Well, that was sad. But also incredibly, incredibly sweet.
“Just messing with you, Eliot. I love your Captain Kirk.”
Eliot rolled his eyes but looked somewhat appeased.
Hardison snuggled closer and the issue seemed to be settled as they both leaned into each other and let the topic drop.
But then a moment later: “Hey, Eliot. Have you ever considered how hot you would look in elf ears?”
(end)
Numb3rs fic:
Title: Favorite shoes
Written for kinkbingo for shoes/feet. Liz, Millie, Amita, and Nikki and the shoes that make them feel sexiest
Liz loves her boots.
In her head, she calls them her ass-kicking boots.
Some heel, but not too much, and not too narrow. She walks great in them, runs great in them if she has to. They’re professional enough for work, sexy enough for a date, classic enough for formal events but cool enough that she can wear them with jeans. She thinks they make her look down-to-earth but sophisticated, which is exactly how she likes to think of herself.
The leather’s worn now, and she thinks it makes the boots look even better. She’s had them resoled, re-heeled, stitched up and polished.
The thing she likes second best about these boots is putting them on. Sitting on her bed easing her foot and calf into that smooth leather sleeve, trained by years of wear to fit her flesh perfectly. Zipping it up, a long smooth curve on the back, making the leather cling to her calf.
The thing she likes best is taking her boots off while someone is watching. The slow reveal of leg as the zipper descends, the way the two sides of the zipper part as if blossoming. Peeling the boot off, leaving the tough, sophisticated boot on the floor to reveal the smooth-skinned leg, the delicate feet below.
Her boots haven’t failed her yet.
~~~~~
Millie loves her “funky heels.”
They’re not too high, they’re comfortable, and they have open toes that let the breeze cool her toes when she’s on her feet all day.
They’re colorful and they have rosettes and geometric shapes sticking out in strange places, but somehow the shoes just look cool rather than tacky. And if someone thinks someone in her position shouldn’t be wearing shoes like that, then too bad; there are, in her employ, almost a dozen Nobel-level scientists who almost certainly don’t change clothes more than once a month.
She likes that the shoes are unexpected.
She likes that she can surprise people who don’t know that deep down, she’s just a cool, funky California chick.
~~~~~
It’s still the kicks.
Nikki still loves them, still loves the way new kicks feel as she walks down the street, feeling like the white shine of the new shoe was like a gleam on her feet, like a smile.
Her friends think it’s weird, especially since Nikki has in her shoe collection some very sexy “fuck me pumps,” but Nikki never feels sexier than in her (newest) favorite pair of kicks.
She likes how she walks in them, like she owns the place. She likes that she can run in them, like there’s nothing stopping her from going anywhere she wants.
She likes the way the padding wraps itself tightly around the balls of her feet, the arches, the whole foot instead of the little section that dress shoes cover.
She especially likes the way they make her remember every good time she’s had wearing shiny, new kicks.
She never explains to anyone why she likes them so much. If you don’t get it, you never will.
~~~~~
Amita has never felt so powerful, so giddy with her own sex appeal, as the first time she tried on her elf-warrior boots.
She didn’t do cosplay that often, but when she did, she wanted to do it right. Special order shoes, fuscia with black, red, and purple trim, curlicues and ogham cut into the suede part. A combination of the existing designs for the delicate-enchantress slippers, the fairy-archer boots, and the most intimidating sword-warrior boots she could find.
In them, she believed in her roleplay character. She felt like she could down a troll with her left hook, like she could crush a wizard in a spell duel, like she could enchant the elf courts with her wit and impress even the dragons with her charm.
She felt like someone who made everything an act of sensuality. She felt like someone who was too powerful, too free, too other, to hold back her desire, her pleasure.
She felt like the kind of woman who would scream her voice out during sex and not be embarrassed at all.
Sometimes, she would wear them to bed, the boots and nothing else, and she would bring herself to loud, throbbing orgasm again and again and again.
http://archiveofourown.org/works/454301
Leverage fic:
Title: Roleplay
For kinkbingo for doms/subs
Hardison moaned as Eliot gripped him lightly by the back of the neck. Eliot had tied Alec’s hands behind his back and he was seated on the couch in his boxers, waiting for Eliot to decide what to do next.
He leaned over to Alec’s ear, to whisper some delicious threat, Alec thought, but then Eliot’s lips were nibbling on his earlobe, and Alec closed his eyes to savor the sensation.
“Ready to obey some orders?” Eliot said in a low growl.
“Mm. Obedience. Definitely.”
“Lie down on your stomach.”
Alec moved awkwardly with his hands being still tied. But as fast as he could, he moved the position Eliot had said.
“Lie still. Don’t move, don’t make a sound no matter what I do,” Eliot said, heat in his voice.
Alec nodded his acquiescence, wondering what he had planned. Eliot never took it too far - in fact, usually Hardison had to push and wheedle to get Eliot to be even a little rough. But there was a sharpness to Eliot’s tone that made a little spark of anxiety, of anticipation, crackle up and down his body.
He thought about all the ways that Eliot might hurt him. Not all the ways Eliot could hurt him, because that got into non-sexy territory very quickly. But all the things Eliot might do tonight. Usually he was so overprotective it made Alec want to just tell him where to shove his concern, but once in a while Eliot got it in his head that Alec really needed a challenge.
Those nights were hard. In the best possible way.
Eliot waited for a while before starting, and Alec absolutely knew that Eliot was doing it on purpose, making Alec’s head fill up with fears and fantasies until he could barely stand it.
He knew that that’s what Eliot was doing. Doesn’t mean it didn’t work.
Then, something soft. Eliot’s tongue on his lower back, licking a long firm line up his spine.
“Mmmm…” Hardison voiced with pleasure.
A hard smack on Hardison’s ass.
“I told you, no noise,” Eliot said, and Hardison could just hear the bastard’s smirk in his voice.
Eliot straddled Alec then and started to massage his back. Strong fingers kneading his muscles, relaxing them, working them over until….
“Mmm…. Wait, Eliot, that doesn’t count. Eliot -- ”
A blistering smack on the ass, making Alec whimper.
“Last warning. If you can’t follow orders, I’m throwing you in the brig,” Eliot said, teasingly.
The what? Alec thought.
Eliot moved off of Alec then. He stood over him and reached his hand between Alec’s legs, rubbing a thumb on the back of Alec’s balls.
Alec didn’t make a sound.
He knows that for sure because he was biting down on the couch cushion to make sure of it.
But while he was doing that, he forgot about the “no moving” rule and started to rut, ever so slightly against the couch.
“That’s it,” Eliot said, and lifted Hardison off the couch and threw him over his shoulder and carried him to the bedroom. As much as Hardison wanted to object to the impossibility of obeying those particular rules under those particular circumstances, he didn’t actually want Eliot to stop.
When they were done - when they were sated and happy and wrapped up around each other in a mess of sweat and warmth - they lay quietly for a long time.
Finally, Eliot said with a proud smile, “I bet you didn’t think I could be that good a Captain.”
“Oh, is that what you were doing? Like a pirate captain?”
Eliot’s face scrunched up in annoyance. “You think that was me being a pirate!??”
“Kidding! Kidding, Eliot. Umm… no, I know who were playing.”
“You’ve only been asking me to be him FOREVER!”
“Captain Jack Harkness? Oh, wait, was I Ianto or the Doctor. Please say the Doctor. Ten. No, nine. No-- ”
“Who? What? I was Captain Kirk! You said you wanted to do Kirk/Spock!!” Eliot said, looking genuinely offended.
“Really? You think Kirk cares if Spock follows orders?”
“I wore a red T-shirt!!!” Eliot yelled.
Hardison looked at him. He knew the man didn’t exactly do costumes. But if this was his best effort at being Kirk…
Well, that was sad. But also incredibly, incredibly sweet.
“Just messing with you, Eliot. I love your Captain Kirk.”
Eliot rolled his eyes but looked somewhat appeased.
Hardison snuggled closer and the issue seemed to be settled as they both leaned into each other and let the topic drop.
But then a moment later: “Hey, Eliot. Have you ever considered how hot you would look in elf ears?”
(end)
Numb3rs fic:
Title: Favorite shoes
Written for kinkbingo for shoes/feet. Liz, Millie, Amita, and Nikki and the shoes that make them feel sexiest
Liz loves her boots.
In her head, she calls them her ass-kicking boots.
Some heel, but not too much, and not too narrow. She walks great in them, runs great in them if she has to. They’re professional enough for work, sexy enough for a date, classic enough for formal events but cool enough that she can wear them with jeans. She thinks they make her look down-to-earth but sophisticated, which is exactly how she likes to think of herself.
The leather’s worn now, and she thinks it makes the boots look even better. She’s had them resoled, re-heeled, stitched up and polished.
The thing she likes second best about these boots is putting them on. Sitting on her bed easing her foot and calf into that smooth leather sleeve, trained by years of wear to fit her flesh perfectly. Zipping it up, a long smooth curve on the back, making the leather cling to her calf.
The thing she likes best is taking her boots off while someone is watching. The slow reveal of leg as the zipper descends, the way the two sides of the zipper part as if blossoming. Peeling the boot off, leaving the tough, sophisticated boot on the floor to reveal the smooth-skinned leg, the delicate feet below.
Her boots haven’t failed her yet.
~~~~~
Millie loves her “funky heels.”
They’re not too high, they’re comfortable, and they have open toes that let the breeze cool her toes when she’s on her feet all day.
They’re colorful and they have rosettes and geometric shapes sticking out in strange places, but somehow the shoes just look cool rather than tacky. And if someone thinks someone in her position shouldn’t be wearing shoes like that, then too bad; there are, in her employ, almost a dozen Nobel-level scientists who almost certainly don’t change clothes more than once a month.
She likes that the shoes are unexpected.
She likes that she can surprise people who don’t know that deep down, she’s just a cool, funky California chick.
~~~~~
It’s still the kicks.
Nikki still loves them, still loves the way new kicks feel as she walks down the street, feeling like the white shine of the new shoe was like a gleam on her feet, like a smile.
Her friends think it’s weird, especially since Nikki has in her shoe collection some very sexy “fuck me pumps,” but Nikki never feels sexier than in her (newest) favorite pair of kicks.
She likes how she walks in them, like she owns the place. She likes that she can run in them, like there’s nothing stopping her from going anywhere she wants.
She likes the way the padding wraps itself tightly around the balls of her feet, the arches, the whole foot instead of the little section that dress shoes cover.
She especially likes the way they make her remember every good time she’s had wearing shiny, new kicks.
She never explains to anyone why she likes them so much. If you don’t get it, you never will.
~~~~~
Amita has never felt so powerful, so giddy with her own sex appeal, as the first time she tried on her elf-warrior boots.
She didn’t do cosplay that often, but when she did, she wanted to do it right. Special order shoes, fuscia with black, red, and purple trim, curlicues and ogham cut into the suede part. A combination of the existing designs for the delicate-enchantress slippers, the fairy-archer boots, and the most intimidating sword-warrior boots she could find.
In them, she believed in her roleplay character. She felt like she could down a troll with her left hook, like she could crush a wizard in a spell duel, like she could enchant the elf courts with her wit and impress even the dragons with her charm.
She felt like someone who made everything an act of sensuality. She felt like someone who was too powerful, too free, too other, to hold back her desire, her pleasure.
She felt like the kind of woman who would scream her voice out during sex and not be embarrassed at all.
Sometimes, she would wear them to bed, the boots and nothing else, and she would bring herself to loud, throbbing orgasm again and again and again.