Title: When I'm All Alone.
This fic is written for Wjobsessed, who asked me if the muse had any other Bolivia before season 3 starts. So being game, I let the muse loose to see what she comes up with. The result was this.
I may do an Olivia POV at some time. Seeing as I gave I Need You Now a "shitty" ending, I'm trying to make up for it now.
Timeline wise I would put this some time into the future after Olivia has returned from the other side (and from rumour that will be somewhere mid season three).
Rating M (do I ever write anything else) Kids go play, this in MAJORLY suggestive.
Disclaimer: When they come up for adoption, I will adopt them (I have first option) but for now they are not mine. So all is done in the name of fun, and suing me is not worth the legal fees.
Beta: No chance for ooc here, so their all mine.
Summery: Peter alone in bed at night, mulling things over.
I lie here on my bed, alone. Wondering what you're thinking, feeling. What may be going through your thoughts, and what you may be doing right now.
Three weeks, it's been three weeks since your return. I've commemorated everyday, memorizing every glance and gesture you've made. You're seemingly recovered from the ordeal having been inflicted upon you, whilst on the other side. Yet. Still I'm too scarred to approach you. To breach the subject of what had been said, whilst on the other side. Do you still think of me that way? Or had you really just said the words, made the actions, to make me come back.
Oh god! Please don't think I did anything with her. Please don't think that, she was not you. I saw that, how could I not.
Would I have done something with her? I can't truly answer. She was different - she was not you. For a while I thought it was the cross-dimensional travel, the shock of realizing just what you had said to me. Now not being unable to take it back.
But since your return you're more distant, if that were in any way possible. I know you have spent a great amount of time cleaning out you apartment. Changing things. It's almost as if your trying to regain control of your surroundings. Trying to erase her. Your haunted looks scare me. I feel the unasked questions and wish you would voice them, if only to clear the air.
Laying here in the darkness, I wish I could find a way through to you. To scale that wall you have once again thrown up to protect yourself. I wish I could rip it down, make you understand that I'm here, I'll listen, and I want help, but mostly… I want to be allowed to love you. I want to touch your skin, taste it, feel it under my fingertips. Rub the tension from your shoulders. Ease your clothes from your body. I want to be allowed to, to have access to your body. But mostly… I want to be allowed into your heart.
My body has started responding to the images. The tightening of my groin serves as a reminder of things I want so passionately, but would most probably only remain in my fantasies. My clothes are uncomfortable now, as I lie and think of your skin.
There are so many questions I would like answers to. Answers, which will allow me into your heart, and your mind.
Questions like…
Are you the closet romantic, I see you as being?
Do you ever allow your passion to flow freely for something other than your work? Would you ever allow me to see it?
You are a person of few words, but would the right words affect you? Allow you to open up to someone? To me?
Would you ever allow me to touch you? Not just in the physical sense, but to really touch you in a way that matters.
If I were to touch and stroke your skin, would it break out in gooseflesh?
Would your body yearn for my touch as I drift my fingers across your skin? Would it rise up, longing for more contact?
Would you respond the way I see you in my mind? Would your body flush with arousal, as I made love to your skin?
Would your heart speed up? They say the heart never lies… But yours, I know to be governed by your head. Would you allow your heart to speak for itself? Would you allow for it to take that which your eyes have shown you to yearn for? What you confessed to me, over there? It was probably the only thing that would have made me come back, the only thing that seemed missing. You.
I came back for you, no one else. No other reason. But now I feel cheated. I lie here dreaming of you, of the things I so desperately want with you…
Would you allow me to kiss you? I still remember the feel of your lips on mine, and cannot wait for the next time.
Would you allow me to brush kisses down your jaw line, onto your neck?
You allow me to kiss your lips? I remember how they tasted then when you did.
Would you allow me to nibble your ears, breath into them how long I have wanted to do that? Allow me to kiss your pulse, to feel your life blood move below my lips, letting me know that you are all mine, that the life-force within your veins allows for me to love you. That whilst it flows in your veins, I have a chance, a chance of making you understand the passion I feel for you.
Would you allow me to taste your skin, allow me access to all those places both visible and invisible under your clothes. To taste your essence, revel in it. To know that it is you I'm loving.
Would you allow my hands to trace your body? To learn its dips and contours, to become familiar with it.
Would you want to touch me? To feel my skin under your fingers?
Would you want to feel our bodies pressed together? To share the intimacy that could be shared between us?
Would you allow me to undress you? To ease your clothes from your body. A body that I have seen, but eludes me daily under your clothes. Would you allow me to touch, to stroke and kiss your skin, as it is exposed.
Would you want to undress me? Do you want to see me naked? To both see and feel how my body responds to you, to your presence.
Would you allow me to trace my fingers up your tights? Allow me to see the change in your eyes, your body? Would you yearn for my touch? Long for my fingers to drift higher?
Would you wear satin or lace next to your skin for me? Would you hide it, allowing only for me to see it, as I unwrap your body from its daily trappings. My hands drifting over your body, exposing you to me.
Would you want for me to tell you how you feel. How long, how much I have wanted do that. Would the words arouse you more?
Would you heed my primal instincts to make you mine? To sink into you with total abandon. To feel you around me, caressing me, encouraging me unto oblivion.
Would you allow me to tell you what it feels like as I move inside you. To try to put to words what I've imagined for so long now.
Would you tell me what it feels like when I move within you? Tell me what you like, and how you would like to be touched? Would you allow for me to lean how to pleasure you? And would you be willing to do the same?
Would you like it fast, passionate, raw and instinctive, with bodies bracing, straining, clinging, yearning, or would you like it slow, deep and loving. With hands everywhere, lovingly, sensual, pleasuring, fulfilling.
Would you allow me to make love to you all over again, as often as I could? To make up for the time we have missed out on.
Would you allow me to pin you under me, worship you like a goddess?
Would you grow wings above me, whilst I'm inside you? Riding me, my body pleasuring yours as you make love to me.
Would you allow me to worship your body in the most primitive of forms?
Would you shout out my name or bite down on my shoulder as I drive you over? Would you cry and moan your pleasure, or would you convey it through hot and passionate kisses?
Would you be enamoured if I cried my passion to the roof? Shouted your name, so the world could hear who drove me there. Or would you want me to sigh it into your ears, pinning your body to mine, as I loose and rediscover myself there within your depths?
Would you allow me to hold you to me, whilst coming down? Allow me to remain in your depths for as long as possible? To savour the moment. To allow me lavish you with kisses, as my instincts yearn for more to happen within your depths. To have a stronger more lasting hold on your heart…
Would you ever answer these questions?
My clothes are now too tight, restricting, uncomfortable beyond comparison. I'm sure my desire for you is evident within my eyes, that I would be able to see it if I looked in the mirror. My skin would be flushed with arousal, my eyes dark. My mind having driven my body to an almost painful state of arousal. I now intend to relieve myself, in a warm shower, hoping that soon enough it will no longer be needed. That soon I would be allowed to feel you wrapped around me, drawing me to ecstasy and beyond.
A/N: This is about the closest I can come to fluff. With any luck, the muse will allow me into Olivia's mind… will have to see if both are game…
