Thinking Of Those Eyes And Thick Thighs

The front door lock clicking open didn’t immediately garner your attention. Nor the soft thuds of shoes being kicked off or a guitar case being placed on the floor. Not even his arms wrapping around you from behind. It was his silence. No greeting. Not a heavy sigh of exhaustion or irritated grumbling. For a few moments you let him hold you without movement or question.

“Didn’t get the gig.”

“What happened? I thought you were requested.”

“Well the parents didn’t want their ‘little angel acting like a delinquent’. Her sweet sixteenth will include a string quartet.”

“Ouch. Live band to string quartet. I sense rebellion in her future.”

When you felt a small huff of laughter on your neck you turned within the circle of his arms. The look of bleak exhaustion on Colin’s face was crushing. “This isn’t fair to you.”

“Colin-”

“No, I'm serious. The band’s getting nothing but rejections. Not only are you supporting me but you’re pulling extra shifts to cover what I should be bringing in. I can’t keep doing this to you.” 

”And I can’t watch you give up your dream.” Cupping his face you guided him to look at you. “If you want to try a delivery job or something that won't clash with you auditioning then go ahead. But focus on your music.”

The tender smile melted your heart as he pressed a sweet kiss to your lips. “You’re amazing, you know that?”

 Looping your arms around his neck you nuzzled into him. “I know you’ll find something soon.”

“You really think so?”

”Don’t stop believin.”

He leaned down for another kiss when his phone pinged. His eyes narrowed before widening.

”What? What is it?”

“What more could you possibly want? I’ve given you everything you could ever ask for! Anything your heart desired. You are the one who is always with me!”

“But felt so lonely in your company." Fingers ghosted over your heart that ached. “At night when we go to sleep. We might as well be on opposite sides of the world with the space between us. Surrounded by a sea of people when we were invited to an event and I am drowning in isolation.” Tears threatened to spill but you fought to hold them back. “Any time we spend together felt like a courtesy with an expected minimum time length and topics discussed.”

“Ridiculous.”

His scoff didn’t hurt. You’d become numb to the indifference. “Really? Tell me the last thing we discussed that didn’t involve making an appearance somewhere or how the household is run?” When he could only stare you shook your head. “Thank you for making my point. You don’t know anything about me or our life except when it suits you.” Sighing you turned to face your husband. “People are starting to notice. We can’t keep this up.”

You prayed with every fibre of your body that he might finally see sense. The two of you were not a couple except on paper. If he let you go he could find a woman who’d be thrilled by the lifestyle he could offer while you could find someone who saw you.

“You’re right. We can’t.” The spark of hope was snuffed when you saw his calculating smile. He clicked his fingers and someone entered the room. “Meet your new bodyguard who will tell me everything I need to know.”

The sounds of water and Italian singing pulled Frank from the depths of a heavy slumber. Frowning he grumbled at the lingering brain fog. Usually he was a light sleeper and alert after waking. Rubbing his eyes it took him a few moments to realise he was alone. Your name bounced off the tiles as he called out for you growing higher with concern. Had you ventured out for food? Unease slithered through him. 

Reaching for his phone he realised that he had never taken your number at any point the previous day. Textbook drama plot. He saved you. You rescued him. Shared dinner. Slept together. Of course numbers hadn’t been exchanged. He cursed his own stupidity. Suddenly his phone rang shrilly with a number he didn’t recognise. Answering quickly he breathed your name hopefully.

“No it’s Abigail Chase.” Shit. This wasn’t good for a number of reasons. “I thought you were with her in Venice.”

“We are. Well I am. I can’t find her anywhere.”

”I’m not surprised. You sound awful. Too much wine with dinner?”

“Two glasses at most. We had a drink when we got back to the hotel.” Turning Frank saw his glass of champagne that was barely touched while yours was empty. A few sips of bubbly wouldn’t have knocked him out. “She must’ve slipped me a sleeping pill.” The unease turned into fear as he checked and double checked everything in the room.

”Why would she do that?”

Johnny writhed and moaned as your touch caused goosebumps to erupt all over his body. Thick fluffy hair dampened by sweat at the roots while his blue eyes were bright against his flushed face.

“Please…”

“I can feel you getting hotter.” Johnny’s body suddenly tensed and his eyes became unfocused before a giant sneeze erupted. “Oh baby” you murmured sympathetically watching as his eyes switched from blue to golden. Grabbing another frozen washcloth you placed it on his forehead. Steam rose immediately from the material. Reaching for your phone you adjusted the temperature in the room along with the lighting noticing that Johnny was now squinting.

“After everything we’ve been through, everything we faced… this is how it ends.”

“You’re sick, not dying. With all the time you spent in subzero temperatures flaming around instead of riding in the Fantasticar like everyone else I’m not really surprised.”

Johnny glared around Reed’s lab before pouting up at you. “If I’m sick why can’t I sleep in our room?”

“Has the fever melted your brain, hothead?” Your teasing tone followed by another light stroke of his face caused his initial hurt to fade into comfort. “You chain sneezed so much you burst into flame and set the bed ablaze! Reed’s lab and the kitchen are the only places with a fire suppression system since the foam malfunction. I don’t think Reed or Sue would be happy if you torch any more furniture.” Grumbling in defeat Johnny settled back on the cot Reed sometimes used when pulling an all-nighter. “Get some sleep and I'll check on you in a while.” You barely made it to the end of the corridor.

“Achoo! Achoo! ACHOO!”

WHOOSH.

“AW COME ON!”

You watched as the two men all but crashed into the room. John bent forward hands braced on his knees as he tried to catch his breath while Sherlock slumped against the wall.

“I told you! It was the secretary. Quicker to run. And we’re not late.”

Breathing now even John looked up and the blood drained from his face. “Two out of three Sherlock.”

The renowned detective straightened as he took in the scene before him. The triumphant gleam faded in his blue green eyes as they clocked all the details. Mrs Hudson’s disapproval radiating in waves. Lestrade trying to suppress his amusement. Your clenched fists.

“Ah.”

“Out please.”

The others moved quickly at your request though Lestrade paused at the door. “Don’t be too rough on him.” Lestrade smirked. “Though I can explain away some injuries I’d rather not have the paperwork."

Neither of you answered locked in a staring contest though you could almost hear how fast his brain was analyzing and selecting the right thing to say.

“Don’t.”

“What?”

“Don't talk 'bout me like how you might know how I feel.”

There was a pause. “I wasn’t. I was merely-” His voice trailed off as your gaze narrowed at him. 

“You left to chase a hunch.”

“Well the police were never going to solve it alone. Darling I don’t understand why you’re angry. I haven’t missed anything.”

“All this time and you're still better at solving crimes than figuring out people. I hope our children take after me.” Suddenly you hissed out a slew of curses. Sherlock was instantly at your side and wisely stayed silent as you squeezed his hand in a death grip.

There were squeals and shouts of excitement but Lance tuned them out. Standing tall with his arms folded his icy blue eyes were hyper focused on one person. Her nerves were obvious to Lance as she stood on the gym mat bouncing back and forth slightly. His breath caught in his chest as she moved into position as he had taught her.

‘Arms high and kick off. Pointy toes. Don’t look at the floor.’

He blinked as she moved in a graceful cartwheel. When both feet landed on the mat she wobbled slightly but regained her balance before finishing in the final pose. Lance exhaled sharply, his muscles relaxing. Beaming she glanced around and he knew the moment she saw him as the Coach persona melted away.

“Daddy I did it! Did you see?! Did you see me?”

”Of course I did! C’mon baby give me a whirl!”

Lance knelt and caught his baby girl as she finished her victory twirl with gleeful giggles. His heart melted as the warm blue eyes she’d inherited sparkled up at him. 

Despite what people say about bumping into their exes you never expected to see yours. Night fell and you tried to hail a cab when you heard your name. There he was standing by the same old car from when you’d dated years prior. After accepting his offer for a ride home he stopped at your favourite place for stargazing. Perched on the hood you both filled in the blanks since the breakup almost like it would fill the empty spaces in the sky.

“I been on the right trip. But I must’ve used the wrong car.”

Laughing you threw your head back. “Any journey involving this car ended in disaster.” Though you couldn’t help giving the hood an affectionate pat thinking of all the memories. But instead of John’s soft chuckle or a nostalgic comment crickets chirped. Suddenly realising he wasn’t talking about the car you turned to see John slump as his elbows rested on his knees. “Oh John. I’m sorry.”

“I know. But it’s the truth.”

Hopping off the car you turned and stood facing him. “You mean so much to me. No matter what, I wouldn't change anything.”

Moonlight turned his blue eyes silver as he looked at you. “Me neither. I’ve missed you so much.” You breathed his name as he caught your hips. “Are we… still on the same road?”

“We might have taken different cars but yes.”

“Wanna join me? There might be a few speed bumps and wrong turns along the way.”

Unable to resist you cupped his beard covered cheeks and leaned in to kiss him. There was a soft groan though you were unsure if it was him or the car as he kissed you back. Familiar warmth flooded your veins as he offered you a smile.

The family was on high alert once again following yet another threat. Elijah wanted you to stay home instead of going to work which you protested vehemently. Eventually he surrendered with a reluctant sigh though you agreed when he insisted that you be accompanied. 

Colleagues with the IQ of a boiled potato approached you several times causing your productivity to grind to a halt. Hormones caused your moods to swing like a pendulum. The stifling presence of security left you feeling suffocated. At one point you would have preferred to be at the compound verbally and physically sparring with Klaus even if he did piss you off. 

So when you stormed into the compound hours later disheveled smelling of wolfsbane and vervain you knew Elijah would soon follow though he wisely waited until all traces of the plants were washed away. Without a word he pulled you into an embrace. The buzzing of your irritated overwhelmed brain was quieted by his soft humming. Peeking up from where you’d hidden in the crook of his neck you were greeted by warm pools of melted chocolate.

“The rabble have been silenced after being doused by vervain and wolfsbane grenades.”

“True. Nikalus hasn’t said a word since your return.” He smiled when you giggled. “Well done darling. Now do we need to make something similar for those simpletons you work with?” 

Despite his light tone you knew Elijah was serious.

“No. But maybe a little compulsion so they actually use their brains?”

“You make bad look so good.”

“My brother would argue that ‘bad’ is a matter of perspective.” Shadows danced around the dimly lit bar doing nothing to hide the imposing presence of Klaus Mikaelson. “We merely seek to regain what was once ours.”

“If it were Elijah saying that I’d believe it. He’s good. Chivalry edged with honour. But you?” You glanced over your shoulder at the Original leaning against a column as you loaded glasses on a tray. “You’re bad. That Hybrid bite isn’t the only thing that’s lethal about you.”

“But you like lethal don’t you love?” Scoffing in response you shivered when he suddenly appeared behind you with a soft rush of air. “If you truly sought a good man then Elijah would be here now. Not me.” A gleam of gold edged his dark blue eyes as he watched you turn to face him before guiding you to sit on the table. “Do you think he would do this?” Warm hands urged your legs to part and traced patterns leading towards the apex of your thighs. “Or this?” 

The sting of his fangs nipping your neck sharply enough to leave a mark but not enough to hurt you with his venom made your core clench. When you whined he leaned in with that fucking smug smirk you wanted to wipe off his face. Closing the distance you were happy when he met your kiss with equal enthusiasm. 

”You make bad feel so good.”

A velvet chuckle sent goosebump raising all over your body. How you loved the sound. Whether you were cornered in the darkened alleys of New Orleans or in a candlelit room tangled amongst bedsheets of an obscene thread count.

“If I were King of the world, tell you what I’d do.”

Thor paused at the lyrics, his blue eyes suddenly shiny. 

“Odinson, you promised - nay you swore on the ‘Allfathers great beard a night of-’”

“Spirited spirits and high celebrations!”

“Spirited celebrations and flowing libations.”

“Yes I said that.” But beneath the joviality his grin faltered with a wobble in his voice. “Loki would be a good king.”

Humming in agreement you bit back your retorts questioning how scaring a crowd into submission and waging war on an unsuspecting city would make a great King. A tyrant maybe. “That would certainly be a sight.”

Thor nodded and raised another shot. “One that may yet come to fruition.”

“Thor, you told me Loki died. Thanos killed him right in front of you.”

“Ah yes but you - hic! - you don’t know my brother. An extremely skilled sorcerer. He died twice before.”

“Pardon?” Surely you had not heard that right. “He died twice?”

“Yes. Truly convincing.” The hopeful light in his eyes dimmed. “But he never believed that I mourned him.” At a loss you jumped when Thor suddenly shouted “I shall prove it! Come along my friend! Join my quest!”

The alcohol-addled Asgardian leaned on you as he steered you both to a tattoo parlour. “Friend Stark told me that great artists can create such designs that remain on your skin until your dying day. This is how I shall convince Loki!”