Xmas Fic #6 - Written for Elzed!
Okay, lost another day because the holiday. I'm going to do my best to post the two fics I'm behind before the end of today - thank the Gods for days off!
In the meantime...heh. There is pure-D Eliot porn behind this cut. elzed wanted Eliot and a female of my choosing, with the prompt "Are you fucking kidding me?"
Title: Grief Sex
Characters: Eliot/Maggie
Rating: NC-17
Word Count: 1632
Summary: Set in the days after "The Maltese Falcon Job" (spoilers for same - minor spoiler for "The Miracle Job"). In the throes of their grief over Nate giving himself up to Sterling, the Leverage team forgot to tell somebody important what had happened.
Author's Notes: The set-up for this came out a lot funnier than you'd expect, given its place in the time line. Hope you enjoy it, elzed!
=================================================================
Are you fucking kidding me?
Eliot could count on one hand the number of times in his life he'd woken up this badly hungover. Occasionally, yes, like this morning he'd woken up next to somebody with no memory of the events that had led to them being there.
Occasionally they'd been someone's wife or girlfriend...occasionally (admittedly even more rarely) they'd been somebody's husband or boyfriend.
He was almost positive he'd never woken up to find his boss's ex-wife sleeping naked in the bed next to him.
How stupid are you? Drawing his knees up to his chest, Eliot buried his face in his hands and tried desperately to reconstruct the previous twenty-four hours of his life.
Maggie Collins. You slept with Maggie Collins - Nate's ex-wife - and you can't even remember it! In a lifetime spent doing stupid, reckless things, Eliot was pretty sure he'd just restructured his personal “top 5” list.
“Okay...okay...” he muttered as flashes of memory started returning. They had managed to make first contact with Nate after that disastrous day on the ship's deck when Eliot's entire world had come undone. He still hadn't forgiven himself for not realizing Nate had been shot until they were at the helicopter. He didn't know if it would have changed anything - Nate had been very clear about his responsibility to see the others safe
He would have felt better about the whole mess if he'd been able to make the choice instead of it being forced on him.
Nate had refused to listen to any of their offers of help, determined to see his martyr complex through to the end. Eliot had largely kept his silence, and when the visit was over he'd gone straight to his apartment and started drinking.
That was the point where things started getting a little fuzzy. He'd started his second six pack by the time Maggie pounded on his door.
“What are you doing here?” he asked, confused by both her presence outside his door and her obvious anger.
“Sterling?” she yelled, her eyes flashing fire. “I have to find out that Nate's in jail from fucking Jim Sterling?”
Eliot had been at a complete and total loss for words. She was right to be angry - he didn't know if any of the others had thought about telling her what had happened to her former husband, but he had been so wrapped up in his own pain and sense of failure that Maggie Collins had never once entered his thoughts.
“Maggie...” he said weakly, but before he could think of anything else to say, she'd pushed past him into his apartment, grabbing the bottle from his hand as she went.
“He won't see me,” she said, taking a long swallow of his beer. “Won't even talk to me. How dare he?” She took another drink, focusing on him. “How dare you?”
“Maggie, we didn't think.”
“Obviously,” she spat. Then, as he watched, she drained his bottle and extended it back towards him. “I'll take another one if you've got it.”
That was how they'd ended up on his couch together, working their way through his stash of alcohol and talking about Nate. “Sometimes I feel like these past few years have just been a way for him to kill himself,” Eliot said. They'd finished the American beers by that point, and were into his smaller collection of imported brews.
“He's been trying to kill himself since Sam died,” Maggie said. “His friend Paul accused him of that when you guys were trying to save Paul's church.”
“I wish you really had been Adam Sinclair,” she said after polishing off another bottle. Her speech was slightly slurred, and Eliot was struck again by how beautiful she was. Gorgeous, smart and tough... Nate really was a self-destructive idiot to have let this one go.
“But no,” she continued. “You had to be part of his little crusade and make this...thing...” She waved her hand back and forth in the space between the two of them.
“Awkward,” Eliot finished, and Maggie nodded.
“Yes. Exactly. Awkward as hell. You're exactly the kind of guy I could see myself getting involved with, Eliot.”
It was the last thing he remembered before leaning forward and kissing her. No matter how hard he tried to grope for the memories, all he'd been left with after the first press of lips was a confused blur of clothes and skin and heat.
He had no idea how - or when - they'd made it to his bed.
*
Eliot was still trying desperately to achieve some sort of clarity or perspective when he finally felt Maggie stir next to him. “Morning,” she murmured, voice thick with sleep. Her hand slid up over his hip and across his thigh...Eliot caught it in his own before she could take that move to its logical conclusion.
“Maggie...” He turned to look at her, and before he could say anything Maggie hooked her other hand behind his neck and dragged him down for a kiss. Eliot tensed for half a second, and then his hormones reminded him that it was a little stupid trying to pretend he wasn't interested in her now.
He shifted position, sliding down beside her...skin brushing against skin. She was an incredible kisser; Eliot was more than happy to follow her lead on that front, while he let his hand brush lightly across her breasts and belly until she was moaning into his mouth and turning towards him more fully.
“On your back,” she breathed against his skin when their lips parted. “I want to be on top this time.”
And Eliot's good sense picked that moment to catch up to his hormones. “Maggie,” he said again.
Frowning slightly, Maggie pressed her fingertips against his lips, her eyes looking directly into his. “Way I see this, you've got two choices, Eliot,” she said - her voice soft, but deadly serious. “You can start talking about what a mistake this was and apologizing, and bring up my goddamn ex-husband one more time and I can get dressed and go home. Or...” She traced the line of his lower lip, then skimmed her fingers across his chin, his throat, and down his chest and stomach.
“Or we can fuck...” She emphasized the word just as her hand circled his now-hard shaft. Eliot's breath hissed out between his teeth as the sensations overwhelmed his brain. “And you can make me breakfast. I hear you're a very good cook.” She stroked him twice, slow and firm. Eliot bit his lower lip, trying to hold himself back from thrusting into her hand.
“Do you have anything you want to say?” Maggie purred, stroking him for a third time.
Eliot shook his head frantically. “No,” he said, his voice suddenly hoarse. “No...ma'am.”
Maggie continued stroking his cock, occasionally teasing under the head with her thumb, as Eliot eased himself over onto his back. She came up with him, kissing him hungrily as she swung a leg over his waist - straddling his stomach so that his cock was pressing into the cleft of her ass.
Eliot threaded his fingers into the silk of her hair, pulling her even more tightly against him as they kissed. Maggie moved against him, making small, pleased sounds as their tongues slid against each other.
The damp wisps of hair between her legs brushed lightly against a sensitive area of his stomach, and Eliot's hands abruptly tightened into fists. He pulled Maggie up - noting for later that she liked what he'd done - and looked directly into her eyes. “Your turn to choose,” he growled. “Fuck me now, or tie me up - I don't care which.”
She grinned at him, and Eliot knew she was actually considering the options he'd given her. So be it, he thought, trying to remember where he'd stashed the cuffs if she chose option two.
Fortunately for his memory, it seemed Maggie had other ideas in mind. She leaned into him, brushing her lips feather-light against his. “Remember you made me that offer,” she whispered. Before he could react, she lifted her hips and slid down onto his cock.
“God, Maggie,” he groaned, rocking his hips up to meet her stroke. “Feels so good.” He braced himself with one hand on her thigh, and slid the other one between her legs. She gasped as he rolled the pad of his thumb across the hard nub of her clit. He watched her play with her breasts as she rode him, using the heels of each hand to tease the nipples into hard, dark points. Her eyes were half-closed, heavy-lidded with pleasure as she slid up and down the length of his shaft.
“Look at me,” he groaned, as the first signs of orgasm shivered up and down her body. Maggie's eyes met his, and she smiled at him.
“Only you,” she said...then she cried out, arching her back, grinding down hard as her hips locked into his. Eliot groaned, feeling the muscles of her pussy clamp down on his shaft. His cock pulsed once...twice...and then he was coming...rapid spikes of pleasure shooting through his body...fuck me...
He sat up, wrapping his arms around Maggie as another orgasm rocked through her; hugging her to his chest as tightly as he could manage. She clutched at his back, shivering and sobbing for breath. “Shh...” he whispered, stroking her hair, and trying to gentle her through the aftershocks that shuddered across her skin. “Breathe, Maggie.”
“Just breathe.”
In the meantime...heh. There is pure-D Eliot porn behind this cut. elzed wanted Eliot and a female of my choosing, with the prompt "Are you fucking kidding me?"
Title: Grief Sex
Characters: Eliot/Maggie
Rating: NC-17
Word Count: 1632
Summary: Set in the days after "The Maltese Falcon Job" (spoilers for same - minor spoiler for "The Miracle Job"). In the throes of their grief over Nate giving himself up to Sterling, the Leverage team forgot to tell somebody important what had happened.
Author's Notes: The set-up for this came out a lot funnier than you'd expect, given its place in the time line. Hope you enjoy it, elzed!
=================================================================
Are you fucking kidding me?
Eliot could count on one hand the number of times in his life he'd woken up this badly hungover. Occasionally, yes, like this morning he'd woken up next to somebody with no memory of the events that had led to them being there.
Occasionally they'd been someone's wife or girlfriend...occasionally (admittedly even more rarely) they'd been somebody's husband or boyfriend.
He was almost positive he'd never woken up to find his boss's ex-wife sleeping naked in the bed next to him.
How stupid are you? Drawing his knees up to his chest, Eliot buried his face in his hands and tried desperately to reconstruct the previous twenty-four hours of his life.
Maggie Collins. You slept with Maggie Collins - Nate's ex-wife - and you can't even remember it! In a lifetime spent doing stupid, reckless things, Eliot was pretty sure he'd just restructured his personal “top 5” list.
“Okay...okay...” he muttered as flashes of memory started returning. They had managed to make first contact with Nate after that disastrous day on the ship's deck when Eliot's entire world had come undone. He still hadn't forgiven himself for not realizing Nate had been shot until they were at the helicopter. He didn't know if it would have changed anything - Nate had been very clear about his responsibility to see the others safe
He would have felt better about the whole mess if he'd been able to make the choice instead of it being forced on him.
Nate had refused to listen to any of their offers of help, determined to see his martyr complex through to the end. Eliot had largely kept his silence, and when the visit was over he'd gone straight to his apartment and started drinking.
That was the point where things started getting a little fuzzy. He'd started his second six pack by the time Maggie pounded on his door.
“What are you doing here?” he asked, confused by both her presence outside his door and her obvious anger.
“Sterling?” she yelled, her eyes flashing fire. “I have to find out that Nate's in jail from fucking Jim Sterling?”
Eliot had been at a complete and total loss for words. She was right to be angry - he didn't know if any of the others had thought about telling her what had happened to her former husband, but he had been so wrapped up in his own pain and sense of failure that Maggie Collins had never once entered his thoughts.
“Maggie...” he said weakly, but before he could think of anything else to say, she'd pushed past him into his apartment, grabbing the bottle from his hand as she went.
“He won't see me,” she said, taking a long swallow of his beer. “Won't even talk to me. How dare he?” She took another drink, focusing on him. “How dare you?”
“Maggie, we didn't think.”
“Obviously,” she spat. Then, as he watched, she drained his bottle and extended it back towards him. “I'll take another one if you've got it.”
That was how they'd ended up on his couch together, working their way through his stash of alcohol and talking about Nate. “Sometimes I feel like these past few years have just been a way for him to kill himself,” Eliot said. They'd finished the American beers by that point, and were into his smaller collection of imported brews.
“He's been trying to kill himself since Sam died,” Maggie said. “His friend Paul accused him of that when you guys were trying to save Paul's church.”
“I wish you really had been Adam Sinclair,” she said after polishing off another bottle. Her speech was slightly slurred, and Eliot was struck again by how beautiful she was. Gorgeous, smart and tough... Nate really was a self-destructive idiot to have let this one go.
“But no,” she continued. “You had to be part of his little crusade and make this...thing...” She waved her hand back and forth in the space between the two of them.
“Awkward,” Eliot finished, and Maggie nodded.
“Yes. Exactly. Awkward as hell. You're exactly the kind of guy I could see myself getting involved with, Eliot.”
It was the last thing he remembered before leaning forward and kissing her. No matter how hard he tried to grope for the memories, all he'd been left with after the first press of lips was a confused blur of clothes and skin and heat.
He had no idea how - or when - they'd made it to his bed.
*
Eliot was still trying desperately to achieve some sort of clarity or perspective when he finally felt Maggie stir next to him. “Morning,” she murmured, voice thick with sleep. Her hand slid up over his hip and across his thigh...Eliot caught it in his own before she could take that move to its logical conclusion.
“Maggie...” He turned to look at her, and before he could say anything Maggie hooked her other hand behind his neck and dragged him down for a kiss. Eliot tensed for half a second, and then his hormones reminded him that it was a little stupid trying to pretend he wasn't interested in her now.
He shifted position, sliding down beside her...skin brushing against skin. She was an incredible kisser; Eliot was more than happy to follow her lead on that front, while he let his hand brush lightly across her breasts and belly until she was moaning into his mouth and turning towards him more fully.
“On your back,” she breathed against his skin when their lips parted. “I want to be on top this time.”
And Eliot's good sense picked that moment to catch up to his hormones. “Maggie,” he said again.
Frowning slightly, Maggie pressed her fingertips against his lips, her eyes looking directly into his. “Way I see this, you've got two choices, Eliot,” she said - her voice soft, but deadly serious. “You can start talking about what a mistake this was and apologizing, and bring up my goddamn ex-husband one more time and I can get dressed and go home. Or...” She traced the line of his lower lip, then skimmed her fingers across his chin, his throat, and down his chest and stomach.
“Or we can fuck...” She emphasized the word just as her hand circled his now-hard shaft. Eliot's breath hissed out between his teeth as the sensations overwhelmed his brain. “And you can make me breakfast. I hear you're a very good cook.” She stroked him twice, slow and firm. Eliot bit his lower lip, trying to hold himself back from thrusting into her hand.
“Do you have anything you want to say?” Maggie purred, stroking him for a third time.
Eliot shook his head frantically. “No,” he said, his voice suddenly hoarse. “No...ma'am.”
Maggie continued stroking his cock, occasionally teasing under the head with her thumb, as Eliot eased himself over onto his back. She came up with him, kissing him hungrily as she swung a leg over his waist - straddling his stomach so that his cock was pressing into the cleft of her ass.
Eliot threaded his fingers into the silk of her hair, pulling her even more tightly against him as they kissed. Maggie moved against him, making small, pleased sounds as their tongues slid against each other.
The damp wisps of hair between her legs brushed lightly against a sensitive area of his stomach, and Eliot's hands abruptly tightened into fists. He pulled Maggie up - noting for later that she liked what he'd done - and looked directly into her eyes. “Your turn to choose,” he growled. “Fuck me now, or tie me up - I don't care which.”
She grinned at him, and Eliot knew she was actually considering the options he'd given her. So be it, he thought, trying to remember where he'd stashed the cuffs if she chose option two.
Fortunately for his memory, it seemed Maggie had other ideas in mind. She leaned into him, brushing her lips feather-light against his. “Remember you made me that offer,” she whispered. Before he could react, she lifted her hips and slid down onto his cock.
“God, Maggie,” he groaned, rocking his hips up to meet her stroke. “Feels so good.” He braced himself with one hand on her thigh, and slid the other one between her legs. She gasped as he rolled the pad of his thumb across the hard nub of her clit. He watched her play with her breasts as she rode him, using the heels of each hand to tease the nipples into hard, dark points. Her eyes were half-closed, heavy-lidded with pleasure as she slid up and down the length of his shaft.
“Look at me,” he groaned, as the first signs of orgasm shivered up and down her body. Maggie's eyes met his, and she smiled at him.
“Only you,” she said...then she cried out, arching her back, grinding down hard as her hips locked into his. Eliot groaned, feeling the muscles of her pussy clamp down on his shaft. His cock pulsed once...twice...and then he was coming...rapid spikes of pleasure shooting through his body...fuck me...
He sat up, wrapping his arms around Maggie as another orgasm rocked through her; hugging her to his chest as tightly as he could manage. She clutched at his back, shivering and sobbing for breath. “Shh...” he whispered, stroking her hair, and trying to gentle her through the aftershocks that shuddered across her skin. “Breathe, Maggie.”
“Just breathe.”