#and of course the writers had to put the word leverage in there didn't they? | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

bippot · 2 years

Text

Summary: So she knows how to calm Adrian down. And wears his clothes. And teases him relentlessly. And knows exactly what to do to rile him up. And knows his deepest secret. But, no, nothing can happen between them. He must resist.

Additional Tags: Fluff and Smut, Roommates, Masturbation, Mutual Pining, Mutual Masturbation, Jealousy, Fluff

Music Recommendation: God Only Knows by MKTO

Peacemaker, Adrian Chase Masterlist - here

Ghostwriting is a thankless job. Being paid for someone else to take credit of your work can be particularly annoying. But hey, that's what Y/N signed up for. Her most recent commission was a romance novella. That wasn't quite her gig, yet you've got to pay the bills somehow. And it's not as if she hated mushy shit, quite the contrary. It's just that her love life has been a little slow recently. Well, slow is an understatement.

The thing is, you see, when you're in love with your roomie, other men don't really matter. She couldn't tell him. God no. He was dead against dating. That was a no go. As he said, "Vigilante is a single pringle for a reason."

It was strange that he even had a roommate at all. Working a deadbeat job that barely pays means that you need to share rent money. She knew he was Vigilante. How could she not? He's not the quietest of men. Especially when he came back injured and couldn't quiet his groans of pain.

"I fucking knew it," she exclaimed, watching as he dripped blood all over their living room floor. She was leant against the kitchen counter, sleepily shovelling cereal straight from the box into her mouth.

"Shut the fuck up and get the first aid kit."

Adrian didn't want her to know. That would put her in danger to any villains who wanted to use her as leverage. It's always the same in every hero's story. The mission or the girl. Which would he pick? He'd hope the mission. But as he spent more time with her, fuck, he might just pick her.

After a particularly drab shift, Adrian walked through the door and immediately slumped next to her on the sofa. He stretched out his legs and kicked them up onto the coffee table, rubbing his bleary eyes with his knuckles. "What are you writing?" he asked, his voice raspy.

Not taking her eyes off the page before her, she responded, "Currently? Nothing. Haven't written a word in half an hour."

He held out his hands for her to give her laptop over. This had happened before. She'd get writer's block and he'd read her work, asking a bunch of useless questions as he read and by the time he had reached the end, she had acquired ideas. He liked reading her stuff.

Usually, the company she wrote for would give her horror to write and he'd eat that shit up. Often telling her about his own escapades so she could use it in her novels. Coincidentally, if she didn't know how a certain injury would bleed, a criminal would be found dead later with that exact alignment so he could tell her what really happens.

"Not this one, Ade."

Interesting. That had never happened before. Now he had to know. Curiously, raised a brow and tried to move closer so he could see the screen, causing her to turn it away from his eyes. "Gimme it."

"You won't like it."

"Did you write it?"

What kind of question was that? Of course she wrote it. What else did he think she was doing? Sitting around all day? "Yeah, dude."

With a smile, he chuckled and stated, "Well, 'dude', I'm bound to like it then." She still hadn't let him see it. "Hand it over, weirdo."

In response, she closed the lid, tucking it away on the table which (what she thought) was out of his grasp. It was not. He instantly snatched it and brought it on to his lap, preparing to open it. "I like your new pen name," he said, pointing to the top of the page where the name of whoever commissioned this was, not yet reading below. "Ivory Addams. Sounds like a porn star."

Filth. Absolute filth. That's what she had been commissioned to write. Literary porn. He froze, eyes widening and awkwardly gulping as he scanned the page. And just like that, his whole demeanour changed. All the confidence he had vanished and was replaced with a blushing mess. "See? It's not the most PG of things and I doubt -" She began but he cut her off by raising his finger and shushing her so he could focus on the words she had written. He couldn't stop reading.

'She danced her fingers across the tip of his head, swirling the mixture of her spit and his excitement, and looked him dead in the eyes as she teased, physically and vocally, "Had enough yet, handsome?"

Completely at her mercy, he had his hands tied to the railings of their bed as he whimpered and cried out, wriggling in the binds due to her soft hands on his hot skin. He was so excited that he could barely hold back from coming right there, and she loved every bit of it.

All she'd have to do was blow on his manhood, her warm breath brushing over him, and he was sure he wouldn't be able to hold it in, releasing all over her siren face. He was weak with need, but he still had his own tricks. She was great at taunting but terrible at tying. Every pull against his wrist loosened the binds. With one final tug, he finally had his hands free.

Without thinking beforehand, he launched forward, taking either side of her face in his hands and kissed her fiercely with an abandon that she'd never seen before, not in all of their time together. He broke off long enough to gasp, "I... I need you," which made her smile wickedly.

Placing her palm against his sweaty, toned chest, she pushed him so he'd lie down and straddled his lap, feeling his need poke at her entrance. It was a feeling she cherished. He was so damn desperate for her.

"Are you sure you don't want me to wait?" she asked, resting her chin on her elbow that rested on his chest. "I could-"

"I need you now," he growled, flipping them over and'

And...?

That's where she had stopped. Right at the good bit. "And what?" He inquired, annoyed that it's incomplete. "What happens next?"

"They fuck."

Well duh. No shit, Sherlock. That was clear. What he wanted to know was "How? How do they fuck?"

"Not a fucking clue." That wasn't a good enough answer for him. Fuck, he'd be thinking about this for a while now. The lack of ending. That and how he pictured the scene in his head. The fucking couple looked like two people he knew very well in his head.

Teasingly, she saw how interested he was and decided to play with him, slowly trailing her finger across his bicep and toying, "Aw, are getting a bit hot under the collar? Want me to help you out with that, handsome?"

Every time. Every time she did this he had to resist the urge to give in. He knew she was only messing with him and never would take it further than that, but boy, did it take every single fibre in his body to brush off her advances. Keeping his resolve, he gently took her hand off his arm and joked back, "I wouldn't be able to handle you."

"Come on, Vigilante. You've faced tougher foes than me," she retorted, moving closer and slowly placing her hand on his thigh, methodically sliding it upwards. "And my 'aching need' for you."

This is how she wanted to play it? He could sink to her level. That's usually how he got her to stop before. Taking a deep breath and prepping himself for what he was about to say, he flirted back, "Aren't you meeting your sister tomorrow? Would be a real shame if you were too sore to be able to walk there." When opened her mouth to respond, he added, "You gonna cancel on her for me, toots?"

Y/N knew that he was only giving back what she had thrown out, but oh fuck. She would cancel. If he wanted her to. But, clearly this was only teasing, right? Neither of them actually wanted that to happen. Her heart skipped a beat before she got a hold of herself, removed her hand and answered, "Cancelling on my sister would ensure I get bumped down from maid of honour to just one of the bridesmaids. Another time, handsome?"

Laughter took over the pair as it usually did after they messed with one another. It was almost as if as soon as they exited the sexy haze of their playful flirting, they became "just friends' once more, acting as if nothing had happened.

"How was work?" She asked, taking her laptop off him and placing it down on the table.

"Boring."

"I thought as much." Fennel Fields had a tendency to bore him. Doing the same work day in and day out made her want to pull her own hair out at just the thought of it. How he did it, she had no idea. "Are you going out tonight?"

"No," he admitted with a yawn. "I'm way too tired for that tonight."

Nice. That meant that she didn't have to stay up late with worry that he might need patching up tonight. That was great. Huge news. She looked forward to her nights alone with him.

She watched as he got up, awkwardly holding his apron in front of him and made his way to his room. He's probably just going to change, she thought. But when he didn't come back for a quarter of an hour, she thought differently.

Knocking on his bedroom door, she said, "Ade, I'm going to order pizza. You want anything?"

No answer. All she could hear was the sounds of his music through the wall. She leaned forward and thought he mumbled out her name. Does that mean he wanted her to come inside? She slowly opened his door and...?

Adrian had to get out of her vicinity. The boner he was sporting was just about to get way more noticeable. He got up and made his way to his room. He tried and tried to make it go down. Imagining every non sexy thing that he could. Puppies. Puppies are cute, not sexy. But Y/N holding a puppy, that was both. Y/N in nothing but her underwear and holding a puppy? No, fuck. He's got to stop thinking like that.

When he was able to stop the images of her with the puppy from his mind, he lay down and closed his eyes. The darkness was nice for a while. Then he remembered her writing. Oh, come on! It had just gone down. And now he had to picture it again.

Music. That would cover up any sound he definitely was going to make. That would keep it more covert. Normally, he would just wait until she had fallen asleep, but this couldn't wait. He couldn't wait. He had to. Now.

Within no time, he was stripped to just his boxers and trailing his hand down to his underwear, feeling how hard he already was. Aroused. Ready. His eyes drifted shut as he tried to picture her writing about him. Short, messy, sexy words that begged for his touch. He would have given her the world to write about him. To write about this.

A week or two before, some of her laundry had gotten mixed with his and he had given most of it back. Most of it. All but a single lacy pair of underwear. Yeah, it was kind of creepy and he felt like a total prick for keeping them, but it often helped him along, if you get the drift. Touching himself, her panties covering his cock, he let out a guttural groan. His breathing became erratic as more images of her flooded his mind. Her fingers tracing his chest. His abs. Her hand resting on his erection through his boxer briefs. Fingers running up and down his shaft. "Y/N..." he let out in a sigh, trying to clear his mind.

If he had been paying attention to his surroundings, he would've noticed how his door opened. Her eyes widened at the scene before her. A half naked Adonis with his eyes shut, hands moving against himself through her underwear, and needy moans coming from his lips.

Opening his eyes after feeling someone's gaze on him, Adrian found her staring at him, her jaw hanging open, her hand resting on the doorframe as she stared at him. He immediately stopped and hurried to cover himself.

"Ade...," she mumbled, her voice betraying her shock. "I was going to ask if you wanted to order food and watch a movie. I see you're a little busy for that now."

"I, uh, yeah. I'm sorry," he said, feeling himself deflate. He had been so close. So close to coming. "I was just... just -"

Before he could spout some awful lie that they both knew wasn't true, she interrupted with, "Wanking with a lustful fury?"

Oh, thank God. He laughed nervously. "Yeah. Y-yeah."

She smiled. She didn't seem put off by his obvious attempt to cover up his arousal. Instead, she sat on the edge of his bed and handed her phone over, the ordering app unlocked and ready to use. Teasingly, she informed him, "I think they have a pizza with jerk chicken, if you'd prefer that to normal. I know how much you like things that have been..." She paused, making direct eye contact. "Jerking off."

"I'm never going to live that down, am I?"

"It will be etched into my brain forever."

As he scrolled through the menu looking for what he wanted, he was heavily aware of where her hand was. The way she was sat meant that her hand was comfortably resting against the part of the duvet right next to his thigh. If that piece of fabric weren't there, she'd be resting against his bare thigh.

It was funny. She could tell by the look on his face that he was trying extremely hard not to look at her for too long. Maybe he'd think she'd make fun of him. Or get disgusted. Or maybe, just maybe, he was embarrassed that he'd been thinking about her. That's why he had said her name. That's why he had used her underwear as an aid. It was her actions that caused this.

So he did like her back. That's great news.

When he finally selected his order, she got up and made her way to the door. She stopped in the doorframe. He couldn't believe his eyes when she shimmied down her underwear from under her skirt and threw it at his head. "Have a nice wank," she instructed, winking as she left.

As soon as she was gone, Adrian did what any self respecting person would do and started pleasuring himself again as she had told him to, armed with a new pair of her panties. He'd get blue balls else. And the food was supposed to come in twenty minutes and he could come in less than five. It was a no brainer.

Once he was done, he got dressed and made his way back to the living room. He thought he'd be too embarrassed to even see Y/N for the next couple of days, but she had reacted so calmly that he didn't care that she'd caught him. In fact, he quite liked it. Seeing her a little red and speechless for a second was flattering.

Sitting down on the sofa, he realised she wasn't there. He scanned the room and found nothing. Then all of a sudden, there she was coming out of her room in her underwear. Blushing, he quickly looked away. "Forget something?"

"I completely forgot to turn my vibrator off. Thanks for reminding me." To go along with her joke, she dipped back into her room and, would you know it, she had left her vibrator on. It was thumping against her bed.

She sat down next to him, running her hands through her hair as she continued, "I feel underdressed. I put on some fresh panties and everything."

"Well, it looks as if I'm the one who has to deal with the delivery boy now."

"I'm sure the delivery boy would love to see these puppies," she joked, quickly squeezing her bra.

The moment she had groped herself was the moment he couldn't take it anymore and returned his gaze to her. She was the most beautiful woman he had ever laid eyes on and that's why, "The delivery boy is not seeing you like that."

Toying with him is super easy. She batted her eyelashes at him, her cheeks turning the most beautiful shade of pink. He couldn't take his eyes off her as she innocently asked, "Why? What's wrong with my outfit?"

"What outfit?"

"You don't like it?"

How could he not? Of course he liked her dressed like that. Dressed in basically nothing. He liked it too much. That sight should be reserved for him and only for him. "The outfit is fine," he clarified for her benefit, "Another man seeing you in it? That's the bit I don't like."

Y/N knew she had him at that moment. She knew it, just like he did. "Fine? Just fine? You know," she purred, leaning in so much that their noses were mere centimetres apart. "If you don't like it, I'll take it off."

"What? No! That's not what I meant."

Feigning ignorance, she asked, "What did you mean?"

Adrian cleared his throat and tried to formulate an answer that would explain himself without giving away that he was desperately in love with her. He couldn't think of one that would do both. That would take time to formulate.

Time that he didn't have. The delivery driver knocked on their door and Y/N was the first up to greet them. She didn't anticipate Adrian jumping to his feet, picking her up to place behind him and getting there before she did. He used his body to cover hers from the stranger at the door. Every time she poked her head around to speak to the delivery boy, he would shift to get in her way.

Pizza boxes in hand, Adrian hip bumped the door shut and returned to the sofa without looking at her. She sat next to him, cross-legged, and waited for him to hand hers over. She had him all figured out. He would go all bashful and lovey if she was friendly for a few minutes.

Turns out that a hot pizza box is, well, hot. Bare legs + hot pizza is a pair made for disaster. But, no worries, nothing a pillow on the lap can't fix. She turned and pointed to the pillow, joking that "You could learn a little from this. Pillows are good for all kinds of protection. Heat. Sleep demons. Boners. The whole lot."

"Sleep demons? Since when do pillows save you from sleep demons?"

"I don't know. I'm usually asleep when they come," she pointed out, munching on a slice of pizza. "And, I've got my trusty pillow behind my head, so double protection."

"Get a gun and it'll be triple protection."

"Why would I need a gun?"

"To protect you, duh."

"I already have you for that."

"Quadruple protection?"

Conversation moved smoothly. Both of them maintained a friendly tone despite what had occurred less than an hour before. That was until Y/N asked, "What toppings did you get?"

"Want some?" He held out a slice for her and waited for her to bite it. So, she leant forward and took it into her mouth, keeping eye contact as she did. Eating shouldn't be that tempting. "You've got to stop," he warned.

"Stop?" Nothing she had done since they had started eating had been intentionally flirty. Confused, she reared back and repeated, "Stop what?"

"Stop doing that." He held up his hand and gestured at the latest thing she had done to drive him crazy, taking a bite of pizza.

"Stop eating?" she asked, laughing. No. But also yes. Adrian was at a loss for words. How would he explain this? His brain was mush at the moment, incapable of stringing together a sentence, much less a well thought out explanation. That's why he got up and retreated back to his room once again. As he was walking away, she teased, "Hate to see you leave, but love to watch you go."

That did it. As he lay there in his bed, Adrian was certain he would never be able to fall asleep again without thinking of her. Not even the sexual stuff. How she'd get so worried when he came home injured. Her smile when he'd say something stupid. The way she'd poke her tongue out whenever she was really concentrating on something. Whenever he would get sad and immediately she'd know to buy some super sour sweets and pretend that she was an ancient old wizard that had to tell him all about a new quest where he had to go on to save the fairest maiden in the entire kingdom. He'd insist that she'd use her own voice for the maiden.

That night, he snuck out of his room and hoped that she wasn't still writing on the sofa. She wasn't writing, but she was asleep. Thank god. No awkward interaction. He'd still have to be quiet so he wouldn't wake her. Creeping to the kitchen, he tried to be as quiet as possible as he searched for something to eat. Nothing he saw really pricked his interest. That was until he saw her stash of Lucky Charms. How lucky of him. He tore open the box and began munching on the disgustingly sweet cereal.

All was going well until he tried to grab a beer from the fridge and accidentally moved it too quickly, causing it to rattle against the other beers next to it. The sound woke her up. She walked in to see him awkwardly try and conceal his theft behind his back.

"Robbery is two to ten years, Vigilante."

Whilst she had been working, she had gotten cold and retrieved a shirt from her room. She picked up the first shirt she'd seen. It was one of his shirts that she'd stolen without telling him. Adrian nearly choked on his cereal when he realised that the shirt she was wearing was his. As clear as day, it was the t-shirt that goes with the pyjamas bottoms he was wearing. He stood there, speechless. It looked so much better on her. So much better. He had to look away, lest he give in to temptation.

"Could say the same to you."

Y/N walked towards him, reaching behind him, not to grab the box, but to stick her hand in and grab a handful of cereal, then she leant against the counter as she surveyed him, munching on the cereal one piece at a time. His hair was a mess. His glasses were nowhere to be seen so he was squinting slightly. He wore only pj bottoms with Squirtle's on them, so his arms and chest were on full display.

"You stole my pj's."

"I borrowed them."

"You stole them."

"They're comfier than mine."

Neither of them were tired. Talking to each other had a tendency to energise them. It was as if their bodies knew they'd want to spend as much time joking as they could, so it hoarded as much energy as it could for nights like this.

When she had finished her handful, she tried to do the same manoeuvre again, but he held the box out of her grasp. "You could ask me to hand the box over."

"I could."

He lowered the box for her and waited for her to reach for it so he could pull it from her grasp again. She knew he was going to do this and just gazed back with a small smile on her face. "Don't you want some? Huh? Ask me nicely and might give it to you."

Nicely? She could do nicely. She could do really nicely. Placing her hand against his cheek, cradling his face, she softly flirted, "Adrian, will you please give it to me?" She stroked his cheek with the back of her hand in a light caressing motion, barely a tickle, barely a touch. As she continued, she moved her hand down his neck, down his chest, towards his hips. He closed his eyes and leaned in. There was a moment of dizziness and he heard her whisper, "Give me all you've got, Vigilante."

Oh fuck it. He had to give in. How could he not? He leaned in and pressed his lips against hers, dropping the cereal box and clamping his hands on her waist. She didn't pull away. She didn't push him away. She seemed to melt. She almost tumbled into his embrace and, before she knew it, her fingers were slowly moving through his curls.

All he did was deepen the kiss and deepen it some more. There was no need for anything more than what they were doing. He could have just held her and kissed her for hours. Her lips were plump and tasted like marshmallows. God damned Lucky Charms. He pulled away to kiss down her neck, his lips grazing her skin as he went. He wanted so much more of this. He wanted to bite her, mark her, make her his.

But he couldn't. He pulled away, desperate to clear his head, to think straight. He had been trying to not do this for so long. Fuck, he had been trying to not do it since he first saw her. Since the first time his eyes met hers and he'd been so goddamn sure nothing between them could ever happen. His breaths were coming in ragged gasps and he needed to calm the fuck down. How could he be this out of control when he'd been so fucking close to stopping this in so many different places?

Panicking. It was clear he was panicking so she stepped back and tried to soothe him. "Ade. Ade, close your eyes and think of those photos of Liam Neeson pissing himself."

Odd thing to ask after just kissing someone. He stared at her blankly for a moment before nodding. He closed his eyes and pictured it. It brought a smile to his face and he let out a laugh. What a weird thing to calm him down. It just proved how well she knew him.

Placing a kiss on his cheek, she whispered, "I can see how shaken up you are. We can sleep on it and talk tomorrow. Okay?"

"Okay."

"Night, handsome."

"Goodnight, toots." She gave him a small wave goodbye then walked out of the room. When he was sure she'd left, he breathed a sigh of relief. That had been close. So very, very close.

But he didn't want her. He'd told himself that over and over again. He didn't want her. He never had. And if he'd said it enough times, it had to be true. Right? No. No matter how hard he tried, he knew that was a lie. He wanted to kiss her. More than anything, he wanted to kiss her again. He wanted more of that. He wanted more of everything with Y/N. He wanted her.

With a groan, he finished his beer and sluggishly ambled to bed. If he thought getting to sleep before was hard, he wasn't ready for this night's sleep. Maybe Y/N was having trouble sleeping too. It wouldn't do him any harm to check that out.

It's not as if he was already feeling bad for freaking out on her, and wanted to see if she was okay and didn't hate him for that, and had she wanted to do that before tonight, and did she miss him when he wasn't around like he did with her, and what if he did it again, would she like that, and if he asked her to go on a date with him, would she say yes, and did she buy new underwear just to mess with him when it got mixed up with his, and did she do that on purpose, and...

So many and's. So many things he wanted to know.

Just as he reached his hand out to knock on her door, she opened it and they just stared at each other for a moment, neither knowing what to say. "You want to come in?" she finally asked. He didn't need to think about it. He moved into the room, closing the door behind him. "I was about to check up and see if you were still freaking out in the kitchen."

"I am," he admitted, looking around. "I'm just freaking out in here instead."

"Good to know."

Okay. Okay. He could handle this. He'd handle this. He was good at handling this. He could be around her and not feel the urge to fuck her. Or hold her close. Or kiss her.

He sat on the edge of the bed and she sat next to him. They didn't say a word. They just held on to each other's presence and breathed in each other's scent. That's when he knew for sure. He couldn't handle this. He was going to lose his shit around Y/N, and she was going to get hurt, and he couldn't let that happen.

"I'm going to try and get to sleep. I know you've got your day off tomorrow, but I'm a working gal so."

A working girl, huh? "How much is it for a night?" He taunted, bumping his shoulder into hers.

"For you, handsome? I'll give you a discount," she retorted, lightly slapping him on the knee before crawling under the covers. "You'll protect me from the sleep demons, right?"

Well, he'd protect her from anything and everything. Even himself. "You do know that sleep demons aren't real?"

"If they aren't real, why are we awake at 4:36 on a Wednesday?" she asked with a yawn.

In his mind, he wanted to say, 'Because for the life of me, I can't stop picturing your lips against mine,' but he settled for, "Because we're nocturnal, stupid."

"Oh. Did you hear the one about the vampire who crashed his truck into an oncoming 18-wheeler?"

"Nope," he said, trying not to smile.

"Neither did I, because it's not funny." Terrible joke. "Are you going to sleep? Because I'm starting to nod off.” That was his que to get into her bed. Yet, because it's Adrian, he didn't pick up on it. To help him out, she lifted the duvet on the other side and sleepily ordered, "Get in bed. I'll stay on my side; you stay on yours."

She thought he was going to protest, but he didn't. Instead, he crawled in and turned on his side so he couldn't see her. That's fine. She lay on her back, hand nearest him outstretched by her head, and fell asleep pretty fast.

Checking if she was awake, Adrian whispered, "Y/N?" and got no reply. He could hear her steady breathing and knew she was fully gone so he turned to face her.

Even in sleep, she looked beautiful. Her face looked softer. He brushed a few strands of hair away from her forehead, and she twitched a little. Then he noticed her hand and lightly traced his fingertip over every line of her palm, which clearly was ticklish because her sleeping face morphed into a grin and she let out what sounded like a little giggle. He couldn't stop smiling, either.

What would it look like if he held her hand? He could finally find out. Placing his fingers one by one between hers, he slowly wrapped his big hand around her smaller one. The tightness in his chest surprised him, but he didn't release her. Instead, he continued to hold her hand and closed his eyes, falling asleep in no time.

Y/N didn't want to wake him when she woke up. But she had to. His hand was connected with hers so if she let go, he'd know. "Ade? Hey, handsome. I've got to get up," she quietly spoke, brushing her free hand against his cheek to wake him.

Still not fully awake and aware, he moved their hands to place his around her waist and nuzzled into her shoulder. She felt so good. "Stay with me," he begged. "Please."

"Five more minutes."

"Twenty."

"Ten. Final offer."

"Done." She shifted so that he was spooning her. Not only because it was nice to be held by him, but she could also see her alarm clock much better at this angle. "Sorry if you feel something poking into your back. I have a gun in my pocket."

That was a lie and they both knew it.

"Really? How many bullets are already loaded?"

"For you, toots? An infinite amount."

She chuckled and they stayed like that for a few minutes, not saying anything. The quietness of their bedroom was comfortable for him. He'd never liked quiet before. It made him feel vulnerable. But being with Y/N was different. He loved quiet, but only when it was quiet with her, it made him feel at peace. "Can I tell you a secret?" he asked, pulling his arm a little closer around her.

"Go for it."

"I think you should stay with me and get demoted to bridesmaid. It's easier to get drunk on the day if you're just a bridesmaid."

Now that was a great argument. She thought for a moment. "You make an excellent point, but my sister is renowned for holding grudges and I'd never be able to live it down."

The ten minutes were up so Y/N slid out of bed. He tried to squeeze her tighter so she couldn't leave, but all she had to do to get him off (in more than one way) was to back up and slowly grind against his morning indiscretion. He turned to mush, immediately softening his grasp and rolling his head back. "I'll let you win this round," he joked, flopping his head face first into the pillow.

Getting ready quickly, she pressed a quick peck on the top of his head before she left. "I'll be back before you know it."

"I'll be here." He proceeded to fall back asleep in her bed. He'd wait for her. Besides, her bed was way more comfy than his.

Arriving at the coffee shop her sister insisted they go to, Y/N walked in and found Allison already seated at a table near the front windows. She looked up from her iPhone screen and gave Y/N a quick smile. "Only ten minutes late, but she finally arrives."

Y/N bowed and let Allison introduce the bridesmaids before she sat down. There were five of them. Too many to remember. She could remember two: Annabelle and Kira. Those stuck in her mind. The other's did not. "Sorry I'm late," she apologised, hoping that was a sufficient answer.

"That's it? You are not going to tell us why?" Allison responded. She always was in need of gossip. Every little thing that happened in her sister's life had to be told.

"Adrian and I stayed up last night talking," Y/N replied, trying to downplay what had happened. Technically, they had stayed up talking. She just missed some of the juicy details.

Allison leaned back in her seat and gave Y/N a smug smile. She could see on her sister's face that something had gone down. "So nothing happened? Nothing happened between you and Mr-totally-perfect-for-you?" Allison asked, propping her arms up on the table.

"Am I on trial here?" Y/N asked. Her love life was not going to become the topic of discussion of these women she barely knew. Especially when it was her sister gossiping about it.

"No, not unless you want to be," Kira replied, keeping her voice as low as possible. She looked around at the other bridesmaids to make sure they looked like they were trying to be comforting. Annabelle was too busy looking out of the window to pay attention and the others looked way too interested. "But, if you want to spill, spill."

"I do not."

The bridesmaids deflated. No hot goss for them. Allison knew that clearly Adrian was no longer 'just a roommate'. It wasn't like he had ever been 'just a roommate' to Y/N. When she had come to visit, the first time she had seen the pair of them interact, Allison knew they both were absolutely hooked on each other. It was clear to see.

Wedding planning is so boring. Especially if everyone else loves weddings and you're not particularly fussed about them. The bridal party looked through endless magazines before their appointment at the dress shop. It was mind numbing, but for her sister, Y/N would put up with it. She got home later than she had wanted to. Admittedly, the most excited Y/N got the entire day was when one of the bridesmaids (one of the ones she had forgotten the name of) had suggested they get early afternoon cocktails. Day drinking? What a joy.

So when Y/N finally made it back to her apartment, she wasn't surprised to see Adrian lounging on the sofa still in his pj's, glasses on and laptop on his lap. As she walked past to get another alcoholic beverage from the kitchen, she ruffled his hair and pressed a kiss to his temple.

Adrian tried to hide what he was looking at from her but he realised a second too late. She wrapped her arms around his shoulders and asked, "Why are you looking for another apartment?"

"I can't stay here," he sighed, maintaining his gaze at a spot of paint on the wall. "It's best for us both."

Whether it was the drink or the absurdity of his statement, she knew exactly what he meant and how she could change his mind. Without another word, she moved in front of him and placed his laptop on the table. Then she turned around and asked, "Mind unzipping my skirt?"

He hesitated for a moment, unsure of what that entailed, but did as she asked and watched as it fell to the floor. Her top was the next to come off. He thought that was the end of it, but she slowly perched herself in between his thighs and leant back on him, placing her head on his shoulder. "Y/N..." he said. "What are you doing?"

"Getting comfortable," she whispered, shifting in her seat, knowingly grinding on him, increasing the roughness until he let out a groan. Adrian felt the tips of his fingers move to begin stroking her thighs, but she removed his hands. She placed her knees on the outside of his, spreading her legs open and brought her fingers to lightly play with herself through her underwear. Then she did it again, rubbing herself a little for good measure and feeling him twitch below her.

"Open your mouth," she instructed and he did immediately, so she placed her fingers against his tongue, gathering his spit around her digits. Her now soaked fingers made their way back down, now going into her underwear and caressing her clit. Y/N felt the tip of her finger moving back and forth over her clit until her eyes drifted shut in ecstasy, whines easily falling from her lips.

As she toyed with herself, she decided to toy with him some more. She turned her head and gazed at his lips till he got the memo that he should try to kiss her. When their lips touched, she reared back with a wicked laugh and a lustful moan. "Want to touch me?" she asked.

"I want to fuck you."

"No," she moaned, pressing her body to his, feeling her wetness rub against his clothed crotch, causing him to let out a staggered grunt. "That's not what I asked."

Y/N felt his hands on her ass, lightly squeezing it and moving her back and forth against him, causing her to rock on him. She grabbed his wrists, stopping his hands and moving one under her panties, moving herself against his touch, moaning in approval as his fingers found her hot, soaking core. "Imagine if you moved out and some other guy moved in. Hypothetically, let's call him Toby."

"Let's not."

Ignoring his comment, she continued, "Toby totally has a thing for me, you see." That sentence caused him to speed up. "I keep saying 'no, Tobes, I'm still hung up on Adrian' but you keep ignoring me and Toby is there."

His thumb began to furiously swipe against her clit as he finger fucked her. She reached back between moans and undid the clasp of her bra, letting her boobs bounce with every jolt of pleasure he gave her. "Eventually, he wears me down and I give in. By the time I'm wiping his cum off my lip, I've already started to move on."

He was close to her, so close he could feel her moans and whimpers against his mouth. He started to move his fingers faster and faster. The mere thought of this fake Toby filled him with rage, which only accelerated when she moaned out, "Oh, Toby. Fuck, I'm so glad Adrian isn't here anymore."

Obviously, she was messing with him, but he wasn't resisting this time. Nothing was holding him back. She was going to moan his name. So when she groaned out the fake name again, he bit down on her neck as a warning. "You don't like that, huh?" She teased, her breaths becoming increasingly shallow. "What if I change names?" The first one that came to her head was, "Oh, Chris."

"Don't use Chris. I know a Chris."

Perfect. Even more fuel. To further annoy him, she whined, "Peacemaker, uh, you're such a better hero than Vigilante. Peacemaker, you can fuck me any way you want."

That was the final straw. He brought his free hand and clamped it on her chin, forcing her to face him long enough for him to roughly kiss her as he slowed his fingers inside her down but started moving his erection against her, getting himself off too. "I'm going to stop," he warned her. "You're going to moan out my name or I'm going to stop."

"Why?" It was obvious why. She just wanted to hear him say it out loud. "Why do you want me to moan your name, Ade?"

Fuck. Here it was. He was going to say it eventually. "Because I fucking love you, you asshole," he chuckled out, bringing his mouth up to her ear and whispering, "I'll say it as many times as you want to hear it."

Y/N's heart stopped. She'd expected a 'you're mine' or a 'you've been teasing me since we moved in', even a 'you're a little slut, aren't you?'. This was a happy surprise. He brought his mouth back down to hers, kissing her as if he were starving, before she even had a chance to respond.

Without warning her, he sped his fingers up again causing her to cry out his name. She had been holding out for so long just to tease him and it just became too much. Her whole body shook as she convulsed around his fingers. His name was on the tip of her tongue, ready to be released, like a sigh of relief.

"Fuck. I can't move out now," he joked, bringing his mouth up to where he had bitten her and pressed soft kisses there, almost as if it were an apology.

Turning to face him, she brushed the tips of their noses together, smiling. "Say it again."

Sighing, he brought his mouth down to hers, stopping inches away to say, "I can't mo-" He knew she meant the other thing he admitted. To tease him, she leant away, but he wasn't having it and wrapped his arms around her waist, pulling her closer once more. "I love you."

After a minute or two of them giddily giggling at each other, she began rocking against him again. She'd been taken care of, he hadn't. She was hungry now, so she turned her head to kiss his neck, taking her time to bite and suck on his skin until she reached his collar bone. Against his skin, she finally said to him, "I love you too."

"Once more." She repeated and repeated it, pressing a kiss to his lips after every one. He shivered, his warm hand moving to grab her hair, holding her head steady against him. On the final repetition, as she pulled back and she softly bit his lip, her hand travelling to the base of his neck.

"I'm going to come in my pants again, if you keep doing that."

"Again?"

"Yeah. I came from all of your wriggling."

"We better get them off then," she ordered, hopping off his lap and throwing her underwear behind her then helping him to pull his pj's off. As soon as they were both naked, he held out his arms and pulled her onto his lap, brushing his hands up and down her curves in awe.

"Tell me again," he demanded, gazing right into her soul. It was almost as if he still didn't believe it. He brought his hands up to cradle her face, bringing his face up and pressing his lips to hers in a kiss that was meant to last, her mouth mumbling words of love against his. As he was distracted, she reached below and softly wrapped her hand around his already hard cock and lined them up. She wanted to feel him in her hands, she wanted to feel him deep inside of her.

When she slid down, he gasped, "God, you feel good." His warm hands left trails of fire as they went down her back and slowly pulled her down as they adjusted. She rested her hands on his chest, feeling how solid he was beneath her. "You're driving me crazy, toots."

Bottoming out, they let out a whine before she gripped onto his shoulders and started moving, guiding her so that she took him all the way in. She rocked back and forth, finding a rhythm that both of them could follow. His eyes were closed, his smile so innocent and trusting, it melted her heart. She held onto him tight, revelling in the feel of him inside of her. His fingers twisted in her hair and his head dropped forward, his mouth moving sloppily across her breasts, sucking and licking along her skin. She arched into his touch, her hands pushing down on his shoulders, the sound of her pleasure growing.

Still inside her, he lifted her up and laid her against the couch cushions, hovering above her. She wrapped her legs around him, pulling him in deeper. She threw her head back as he buried his face in her neck as he grunted and panted. He murmured her name over and over, each time building up to more intense cries.

He raised his head to get a better look at her and swiped his thumb loving across her bottom lip, which she took into her mouth and seductively sucked on. This action caused him to powerfully thrust in a certain spot. She let out a high pitched squeak.

They stopped out of shock. "I've never made that sound before in my entire life."

"I'm going to see if I can do that again." He thrust again. She moaned but it wasn't that squeak. Once more. He tried to remember exactly how he did it before and attempted again, resulting in another squeak. Teasingly, he complimented, "That is the cutest sound I've ever heard."

Now he had found out about that spot, he was going to totally focus on making her react like that. "Fuck you, Chase," she taunted through euphoric squeals as she came. With any other partner, she would've been embarrassed, but Adrian seemed to really like them. "God, how the hell are you doing this to me?"

His eyes were wild and he was grinning like a madman at her comment. Her eyes were glazed over and she couldn't help but smile back. God, she loved to watch him like this, the way his body responded to her. She ran her fingers along his cheek, trailing them down until they landed on his neck. He tilted his head to give her better access as she attached her mouth to his Adam's apple, sucking and nibbling until she felt him shiver.

Adrian groaned, his eyes rolling back in his head from how good it felt. It took her a moment, but once she found his pulse point, she sucked on it harder. Pleasure rippled through him, making him pound his hips into her, his fingers tangling in her hair. He was close. If she kept this up, he'd come.

She pulled back, panting, before grazing her teeth on his neck. The moment she did, he whined, and came, filling her up. She kept her mouth on his throat as his breath broke in short, panting gasps. He was pressed into her, his hips still moving, leaving the strongest aftershocks of pleasure to roll through her.

"Yeah. Yeah, I'm definitely never moving out." He collapsed on top of her, his heart thundering in his chest. To steady himself, he placed both hands on her boobs and gave a reaffirming squeeze. He tilted his head to look at her to ask, "Can you walk around naked, like, all of the time from now on?"

"Only if you do too."

"Done."

Y/N tapped him on the shoulder, gesturing that she was going to get up. "Ade, I need a pee, let me go," she replied, trying to get out of his grasp.

"Nope. I'm not letting you go until you agree to stay with me forever."

"I will be with you forever as long as you let me pee." He grumbled but released her, allowing her to go get cleaned up. He didn't move from the couch, his eyes fixed on her naked back as she walked away.

When she returned, he was no longer on the couch. He was hiding behind the wall, so he could sneak attack her with smooches as soon as he saw her. He was too fast, wrapping his arms around her waist from behind, pulling her in tight against his chest, before she even registered where he had gone. "You've been teasing me for months and you think one fuck is going to satisfy me?" He whispered lowly, walking her to the arm of the sofa and slowly pushing her over it.

"Well, I hoped it wouldn't." He rested his head on top of hers as he settled in between her naked thighs, his cock hardening at the touch of her skin. She turned her head to face him, her hand coming up to caress his cheek as she flirted, "Give me all you've got, Vigilante."

The rest of the day was spent just like that. Pure, animalistic fucking. It was to make up for all of the months of pent up teasing and taunting. By the end of the night, they were sweaty and exhausted.

"Shower?"

"Give me a couple of minutes to get hard again."

"I meant that because we stink, but yeah, if you want to go another round, I'm down."

Adrian raised his eyebrow at her comment before giving her an encouraging smile. "I'm always down for another round."

It was safe to assume that their neighbours were less than happy that they had finally gotten together. They would definitely have to invest in some earplugs if they wanted to be free from all of the sound the pair made.

With Adrian around, she'd never run out of ideas. Whether it was truly gruesome murders or heated intercourse, she'd always have their experiences to put into her work.

#adrian chase #adrian chase x female reader #Vigilante #vigilante x reader #Youtube

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aethersea · 3 years

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May I request 41 - First Kiss and 94 - Hair Brushing/Braiding for the Leverage OT3, please? (Also extra bonus points if you give Eliot beads in his hair like in The Ice Man Job, because we didn't get NEARLY enough of that in the show) Thank you!

I cannot believe I wrote this whole thing out and then never published it. I’m so sorry, it’s been at least twenty-four years since you sent in this ask, please accept my humble apologies and also this ficlet.

However, this prompt is just pure fluff, and I hate to tell you this but I am not a fluff writer. I just can’t pull off that unadulterated sweetness. I am in this fandom for the shenanigans, first, last and foremost! So this fic is now a 5+1 of Eliot and Parker trying to seduce Hardison.

1. Parker thinks they need to give him gifts, so she goes through her stash and picks out the largest, fanciest jewel she’s ever stolen. Then she realizes: Hardison likes stories. He spends hours giving their aliases histories and pets and allergies and favorite foods, he can get a whole sordid history of jealousy and betrayal from a single corporate email chain, and Parker knows for a cold fact that he writes little stories with his online friends about being wizards together.

She goes through her stash again and picks out the most cursed thing she’s ever stolen.

It’s a jeweled statuette, almost as tall as her forearm, made of gold and studded with precious and semi-precious stones. Mysterious deaths have befallen five separate owners of this thing. Its base is dented from the time it was used to bludgeon Owner Number Three to death. The tiny rubies it has for eyes follow you across the room.

Parker puts a bow on it and leaves it in Hardison’s room while he’s sleeping. He wakes up to this horrible little statue watching him from his bedside table.

He texts the group chat, Hey did anyone put an evil little gold guy in my bedroom last night? But Parker chickens out and says nothing (drunkenly betting Eliot that she can seduce Hardison is one thing, but admitting that she likes him is something else altogether). Everyone else texts back variations on “nope.” (Except Sophie, who just sends back a string of heart eyes emojis and a wikipedia link. She loves cursed artifacts.) So Hardison puts the statue away in a closet somewhere and figures he’ll deal with it later.

Parker is mildly offended that he put her gift in a closet. She goes into his room the next night and puts it back on the bedside table, where it clearly belongs.

This goes on for a week. Hardison puts the statue in a desk drawer, then in one of the cabinets in the office downstairs, then in the dumpster down the street. Every day he wakes up to those glittering red eyes watching him sleep. He’s asked his internet buddies if anyone knows a good exorcist. Hardison doesn’t really believe in curses, but also? What the fuck. What the fuck.

2. Eliot assumes the drunken bet will be forgotten by morning. What kind of world would it be if people always followed through on promises they made while they could barely stay vertical? So he spends the morning nursing his hangover and cleaning his knives. Cleaning guns is no good while hungover—all the snaps and clicks of popping things in and out of place sound like actual gunfire when you’re hungover, it’s a nightmare—but knives are quiet and have no moving parts. Buffing and polishing them is soothingly repetitive work, and every once in a while he can throw one at one of the dartboards on the walls and reassure himself that his reflexes are still sound even after that much tequila.

It’s only when he gets Hardison’s text about the golden statuette that magically appeared in his room overnight that Eliot realizes Parker’s actually going for it. After some internal debate about whether he’s going to stoop to this or not, Eliot decides what the hell and starts making plans.

Eliot agrees that gifts are the way to go, but not stolen gifts. Not things. Anyone can give a thing. Proper wooing is about giving experiences.

Eliot plans for three days. On the fourth day, he and Hardison have their irregularly scheduled monthly coffee date, and Eliot texts him beforehand to say he wants to do it at the brewpub this time. Hardison arrives to find a deceptively simple meal: basic country fare perfected through years of experimentation, made with the best ingredients Eliot can get his hands on. And Eliot, after all, is still a retrieval specialist. There’s very little in the world he can’t get his hands on.

And yet the night ends and somehow he has not gotten his hands on Hardison.

This is just not right. Eliot knows how to deploy a smolder, okay, Tangled reference aside he is damn good at flirting and he knows the looks he’s giving Hardison are clear as day. It’d be one thing if Hardison had turned him down, or if he’d been uneasily unwilling, or even if his eyes had widened slightly in suppressed panic and he’d abruptly found a reason to leave. Eliot can take rejection, bet or no, and he’d have bowed out graciously without a fuss. But this was much, much worse.

Hardison didn’t even notice he was flirting.

He’s going to have to up his game.

3. “How do you seduce people?” Parker asks bluntly, turning up at Sophie’s door just past midnight.

Sophie, despite the hour, is utterly delighted by the question.

This goes as well as you would expect.

4. Eliot’s taken a lot of dates to sports games. Hardison may prefer sparkly elves with purple lightning magic to a decent MMA fight, but baseball is the American pastime. Eliot gets them perfect seats, hot dogs from the best vendor in the stadium, even chilled beer that he smuggles in without letting it get warm. It’s going to be a perfect game.

And it is. At first. Hardison, it turns out, has a lot of opinions about baseball. What he does not have is an understanding of the rules. They’re not even into the second inning by the time Eliot finally snaps and starts arguing with him about it.

They make it all the way to the fifth inning before Eliot realizes that Hardison’s basing his complaints off the rules of a game from a Star Wars novel.

They’re at the bottom of the eighth before Eliot will speak to him again.

5. Eliot and Parker are drunk again. This is not intentional. They didn’t even mean to come to this bar, but the smoothie place with the fried oreos that Eliot had brought Parker here to try was playing such incredibly bad music that they’d ordered the oreos to go and fled. The bar was just the coziest looking place on the block, and of course they’d ordered drinks to avoid being rude––Eliot had entertained himself for a few minutes scouring the menu for something that would pair well with fried oreos and popcorn chicken.

And now they’re drunk. The conversation has, perhaps inevitably, turned to the ongoing bet.

“I tried everything!” Parker wails. “I laughed at every joke, I touched my hair constantly, I got him talking about things he likes.” She thunks her forehead on the bar. “All that happened is now I know the complete history of orcs in western literature.”

“Hardison wouldn’t know flirting if it pinched him on the ass,” Eliot grumbles.

Parker slaps his arm. “No pinching Hardison!”

“I’m not going to—I don’t pinch people!”

Parker’s ignoring him. Eliot pouts and takes another sip of his drink. He’s not entirely sure what this one is––it’s blue and kind of fizzy, that’s all he can say for sure. Parker took over the drinks menu several glasses ago, and she’s been picking them based on what has the most fun name to say. Eliot’s pretty sure the alcohol content’s been doubling with each order.

“Eliot,” Parker slurs, “we need to work together.”

“What?”

Parker lifts her head from the bar and frowns at him, the way she does when she’s figured out the obvious solution and is just waiting for everyone else to get on the same page. It’s adorable. It’s always adorable, but right now her eyes are wide and slightly unfocused from the alcohol and she’s listing sideways a little, almost as if she’s unbalanced, and it is the most adorable thing Eliot has ever seen. Parker’s never unbalanced, but some part of Eliot’s fuzzy brain thinks she’s about to fall on top of him and cannot wait to catch her.

“You can’t seduce Hardison,” Parker points out. Eliot is drunk enough to get offended by this, but too drunk to get out a complaint before she continues, “I can’t seduce Hardison. But if we work together, the two of us can definitely seduce Hardison. Together.”

Eliot stares at her. Then he takes another sip of his fizzy blue drink. Later, when questioned, he will blame his next words on that drink.

“Worth a shot.”

They take Hardison to a movie. They research for three weeks beforehand. They find the best movie theater in town, with the nicest seats, the biggest screens, and concession snacks that Hardison likes, and they buy tickets for the midnight premiere of the superhero movie that Hardison hasn’t shut up about for the past month. Parker even hacks into the theater’s computers in a last-minute fit of nerves and cross-references the credit cards with drivers’ licenses to make sure the people sitting in front of them won’t be too tall.

Parker witnesses a kidnapping in the parking lot while the boys are getting popcorn. They don’t even stay long enough to catch the commercials.

+ 1. “Hey Eliot,” Hardison says during movie night, a little over a week later. “Remember the Ice Man Job?”

Eliot groans. “I try not to.”

Hardison throws a piece of popcorn at his face. “Shut up. Remember how you did your hair for that one? With the little—those little beads on, like, a braid?”

Eliot shoots Hardison a suspicious glance. “Yeah, I remember.”

“Teach me how to do that.”

Eliot shoots Hardison another, more deliberate look, this one pointedly directed at Hardison’s complete lack of braidable locks.

Hardison rolls his eyes as if that’s a silly detail to get hung up on and leans forward to dig around in one of the boxes he has under his coffee table. He emerges with a ziplock bag of plastic beads in no time flat and hands it triumphantly to Eliot. Then he yanks a few cushions out from behind Parker, who’s sitting on his other side, and puts them on the floor in front of him. “Sit here?” he asks Parker, patting the cushion pile.

Parker takes a moment to consider being offended at having her cushions stolen, but curiosity gets the better of her and she just plops down between Hardison’s legs, grabbing the bowl of popcorn as she goes, and waits.

Hardison lifts her hair with sudden gentleness, drawing it over her shoulders and letting it fall down her back in a golden wave. His fingers brush against her neck. Parker shivers. Eliot is distantly aware that he’s gone perfectly still, focused with a hunter’s intensity on Hardison’s dark, graceful fingers carding through Parker’s hair.

Hardison leans back, hands on his knees, and Eliot breathes again. “Well?” Hardison looks over at Eliot, a tiny smirk of challenge on his lips. “Show me how it’s done.”

Eliot is suddenly, brutally aware of how close they are. Hardison’s couch is obscenely comfortable, which is half the reason movie nights are at Hardison’s in the first place, but it is not large. Their thighs are touching. Hardison leans away, to give Eliot access to Parker’s hair, and he’s still so close that Eliot would barely have to reach out a hand to—

Eliot ruthlessly shoves that thought down into the dark where it belongs. He dealt with this, he dealt with this years ago, and accepting Parker’s stupid bet doesn’t mean he’s forgotten the way Hardison and Parker look at each other. It just means he doesn’t mind losing for a good cause.

So he keeps his tone steady and his fingers brisk as he shows Hardison how to braid the clunky plastic beads into Parker’s hair, and if he flushes with heat when their hands brush each other, well, nobody has to know. He’s been trained to withstand eight different schools of torture. It won’t show on his face. His voice never once falters.

Parker has had no such training. Her lips have parted, and her breathing is shallow. She’s staring glassy-eyed at the TV. Hardison can’t see her face, sitting behind her, but Eliot watches her carefully, worried that they need to call this off. Parker’s not used to intimacy, to closeness that means something, and for all the three of them have spent half their movie nights literally on top of each other, this is something else. This has weight.

Eliot puts a hand on her shoulder, pressing down just enough that Parker startles and cants a glance over at him. Eliot raises his eyebrows in question, and Parker glares back: don’t you fucking dare. Eliot backs off. Hardison, frowning in concentration as he threads a wisp of Parker’s hair through a green bead, graciously pretends he didn’t see the exchange.

Hardison gets the hang of the beading fairly quickly, and Eliot shows him a few different techniques. He’s almost managed to convince himself that nothing is actually happening when Hardison says, conversationally, “You two are really bad at this.”

Eliot glowers his confusion. “At movie night? You started this, if you wanted to actually watch Alien then you shouldn’t have—”

Hardison’s smile is soft, but Eliot decides for his own safety to focus on the laughter at its edge. “No, at this.” And then he slides his hand onto Parker’s neck, caresses her cheek, and isn’t the slightest bit surprised when she gasps.

Parker whips around, and there’s hurt on her face but it dies in the glow of Hardison’s gentle, unteasing smile. Hardison pulls her up with the lightest of touches, and she goes, eyes fixed on his like salvation.

They kiss sweet and slow, and Eliot’s heart twists in his chest and he can’t breathe. He needs to leave now before he shatters in half, but if he moves then they will look at him, and he would rather never breathe again than meet their eyes right now.

Hardison breaks off the kiss, gazing at Parker with something just this side of wonder, and then he does look at Eliot. Eliot flinches. He opens his mouth to…say something, make some joke or hasty excuse and scramble out the door, but Hardison raises a hand to Eliot’s face, slides his long fingers to cup Eliot’s neck, and pulls him forward, as gently as he did Parker.

It’s a chaste kiss, no more than a soft press of lips, because Eliot is too stunned to respond and Hardison doesn’t push. It lasts a long time. A whole era of change happens in the span of that kiss, as everything Eliot thought he knew tears out of place and then settles, gingerly, into a new understanding.

Hardison pulls away, his hand still warm on the back of Eliot’s neck. His smile is pure sunshine. Eliot finds himself smiling back, helpless.

Hardison’s grin turns smug. “And that,” he says, looking between Eliot and Parker, “is how you do it. Y’all are disasters, honestly, I can’t believe two master criminals working together couldn’t manage a single real date—”

Eliot heaves a deep sigh and drags Hardison into a headlock, pinning his arms when he flails. Parker surges to her knees and starts tickling him mercilessly.

They don’t finish the movie.

#finx writes #I didn't quite get Eliot's hair in there but I hope this works anyway #leverage #leverage fic #leverage ot3

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