Leverage Fic: "Hallelujah"
Okay so apparently my muse is scared of sitting down and attempting something epic, but I couldn't resist this prompt over at comment_fic:
Leverage, Eliot/Author choice, "Hallelujah" by LEONARD COHEN
"She tied you to a kitchen chair
She broke your throne, and she cut your hair
And from your lips she drew the Hallelujah"
I adore this song and I ended up writing a ficlet that is completely unbetaed so if you see any horrific typos please feel free to let me know.
Title: Hallelujah
Genre: Gen or het if you squint though it's not explicit.
Rating: PG
Eliot always had a weakness for women. It was a personal failing.
"You're a cowboy aren't you baby? Gotta be the knight in shining armor. Gotta be the bad boy with a good heart." Her fingers tangled in his hair and she pulled. "I didn't need a hero though, did I?"
He grinned, baring his blood stained teeth. "Naw, seems like I cast you wrong in this little story, princess. Turns out you're nothing but a bitch."
Keeping a firm grip on his sweat drenched hair, she leaned in to lick at his lip making sure that Eliot didn't try anything as common as a headbutt. "Don't be crass, cowboy."
His shoulders ached from the ropes tying him to the wooden chair. She made sure he wasn't moving an inch. Every attempt to shift and pull only burned his wrists and made the ropes slippery with blood.
Eliot tried to ignore her petting. She circled him, fingers getting caught in uncombed hair. He felt like a toy, an object, a kept animal. He couldn't see her and it made his shoulders want to climb up to his ears, shielding himself from a blow. It made him nervous and she knew it.
"Cowboy..." She mused and tugged at his hair once again, "Cowboy. Bet you like that image, huh? I bet you like imagining yourself as the John Wayne in the little movie in your mind. Who are you trying to rebel against? Who are you trying to convince?"
She stood in front of him, smiling. "I don't really give a shit, but the conversation is nice, yes?"
He tried not to react as she pulled a pair of scissors from behind her back. "I wonder how you'd feel about yourself, Eliot Spencer, if you looked less like a cowboy and more like a 'yes man.' I mean, that's all you really are, right? Nathan Ford's little Do Boy? Yes sir. Right away sir."
She smirked, "I think it's time the packaging matches the contents." She pulled out a tuff of hair and snipped. "You're no cowboy. You're just a little boy scared of disappointing daddy. Yes, I think we can work with that."
Snip.
Eliot closed his eyes as she shorn his hair, remaking him into someone he didn't want to recognize.
When it was over she ran her hand over his scruff and whispered. "Hallelujah baby. I see the truth."
Leverage, Eliot/Author choice, "Hallelujah" by LEONARD COHEN
"She tied you to a kitchen chair
She broke your throne, and she cut your hair
And from your lips she drew the Hallelujah"
I adore this song and I ended up writing a ficlet that is completely unbetaed so if you see any horrific typos please feel free to let me know.
Title: Hallelujah
Genre: Gen or het if you squint though it's not explicit.
Rating: PG
Eliot always had a weakness for women. It was a personal failing.
"You're a cowboy aren't you baby? Gotta be the knight in shining armor. Gotta be the bad boy with a good heart." Her fingers tangled in his hair and she pulled. "I didn't need a hero though, did I?"
He grinned, baring his blood stained teeth. "Naw, seems like I cast you wrong in this little story, princess. Turns out you're nothing but a bitch."
Keeping a firm grip on his sweat drenched hair, she leaned in to lick at his lip making sure that Eliot didn't try anything as common as a headbutt. "Don't be crass, cowboy."
His shoulders ached from the ropes tying him to the wooden chair. She made sure he wasn't moving an inch. Every attempt to shift and pull only burned his wrists and made the ropes slippery with blood.
Eliot tried to ignore her petting. She circled him, fingers getting caught in uncombed hair. He felt like a toy, an object, a kept animal. He couldn't see her and it made his shoulders want to climb up to his ears, shielding himself from a blow. It made him nervous and she knew it.
"Cowboy..." She mused and tugged at his hair once again, "Cowboy. Bet you like that image, huh? I bet you like imagining yourself as the John Wayne in the little movie in your mind. Who are you trying to rebel against? Who are you trying to convince?"
She stood in front of him, smiling. "I don't really give a shit, but the conversation is nice, yes?"
He tried not to react as she pulled a pair of scissors from behind her back. "I wonder how you'd feel about yourself, Eliot Spencer, if you looked less like a cowboy and more like a 'yes man.' I mean, that's all you really are, right? Nathan Ford's little Do Boy? Yes sir. Right away sir."
She smirked, "I think it's time the packaging matches the contents." She pulled out a tuff of hair and snipped. "You're no cowboy. You're just a little boy scared of disappointing daddy. Yes, I think we can work with that."
Snip.
Eliot closed his eyes as she shorn his hair, remaking him into someone he didn't want to recognize.
When it was over she ran her hand over his scruff and whispered. "Hallelujah baby. I see the truth."