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abvjTitle: the tricks we play on ourselves
Summary: There are things she remembers in spurts and gasps.
Rating: r
Author's Notes: 505 words. General series spoilers. Written for Good Wife Comment Fic Meme. Originally posted Here. Re-posted because I have LJ OCD. All mistakes are mine. These characters, however, are not.
Summary: There are things she remembers in spurts and gasps.
Rating: r
Author's Notes: 505 words. General series spoilers. Written for Good Wife Comment Fic Meme. Originally posted Here. Re-posted because I have LJ OCD. All mistakes are mine. These characters, however, are not.
There are things she remembers in spurts and gasps.
The way he likes to sleep in the middle of the bed, for instance, with his face down and arms spread wide and how he’s always been exceptionally good with his hands. She remembers these things and others in odd moments. At times when she shouldn’t, when she’s with Peter or the kids and she finds herself in a private moment, a stretch of time that lasts too long where she muses a gentle what if for the two of them that would never come to be.
It’s what she’s thinking about now as she watches him dance around her like he doesn’t know her at all. Like he’s never had his mouth between her legs or around the gentle swell of her breast or fucked her slow and sweet until her body was raw and sedate and her thighs ached for days with remembrance.
Alicia watches Will talk with his hands and his voice low because he’s never anything but certain in front of the associates and thinks about how he’s an excellent kisser with an excellent mouth and the way his hands had felt against her face last spring. The way the pressure was tentative at first, then sure and certain as his lips worked against her own with ferocity, with all caution to the wind. How the gentle pull of his fingers in her hair had did something delicious to her insides, sent something surging from her toes to her head and lighting every bit of her in-between on fire.
These are the things she thinks about at night when she’s in her empty bed with Peter in the next room, close but completely out of reach. These are the things she chooses to remember when she slips a hand between her thighs and stokes and teases and writhes until she comes with her thumb on her clit and his name straggled in a gasp at the back of her throat.
After she shifts in her seat she re-crosses her legs, fingers tightening around the pencil in her hand for a moment before it falls through and hits the file with a soft thud. When she looks up Diane has starting talking and Will’s looking at her instead of his partner, lips curling slightly as he does, eyes soft around the edges. This she remembers too; has never been able to completely forget. The way he looks at her the way he has since day one, since that very first brush of hands and exchanged pleasantries, his mouth quirking over the polite nice to meet you. It’s nothing significant really, nothing earth shattering to anyone who wasn’t Alicia, but it never fails to make her feel whole and light, airy like she was perfect to him and always will be.
Will’s lips spread into a full grin and it settles somewhere deep in her belly.
Her throat constricts. She doesn’t want to think about why.
These are the things she tries not to miss.
The way he likes to sleep in the middle of the bed, for instance, with his face down and arms spread wide and how he’s always been exceptionally good with his hands. She remembers these things and others in odd moments. At times when she shouldn’t, when she’s with Peter or the kids and she finds herself in a private moment, a stretch of time that lasts too long where she muses a gentle what if for the two of them that would never come to be.
It’s what she’s thinking about now as she watches him dance around her like he doesn’t know her at all. Like he’s never had his mouth between her legs or around the gentle swell of her breast or fucked her slow and sweet until her body was raw and sedate and her thighs ached for days with remembrance.
Alicia watches Will talk with his hands and his voice low because he’s never anything but certain in front of the associates and thinks about how he’s an excellent kisser with an excellent mouth and the way his hands had felt against her face last spring. The way the pressure was tentative at first, then sure and certain as his lips worked against her own with ferocity, with all caution to the wind. How the gentle pull of his fingers in her hair had did something delicious to her insides, sent something surging from her toes to her head and lighting every bit of her in-between on fire.
These are the things she thinks about at night when she’s in her empty bed with Peter in the next room, close but completely out of reach. These are the things she chooses to remember when she slips a hand between her thighs and stokes and teases and writhes until she comes with her thumb on her clit and his name straggled in a gasp at the back of her throat.
After she shifts in her seat she re-crosses her legs, fingers tightening around the pencil in her hand for a moment before it falls through and hits the file with a soft thud. When she looks up Diane has starting talking and Will’s looking at her instead of his partner, lips curling slightly as he does, eyes soft around the edges. This she remembers too; has never been able to completely forget. The way he looks at her the way he has since day one, since that very first brush of hands and exchanged pleasantries, his mouth quirking over the polite nice to meet you. It’s nothing significant really, nothing earth shattering to anyone who wasn’t Alicia, but it never fails to make her feel whole and light, airy like she was perfect to him and always will be.
Will’s lips spread into a full grin and it settles somewhere deep in her belly.
Her throat constricts. She doesn’t want to think about why.
These are the things she tries not to miss.
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(no subject)
Date: 2011-01-31 12:57 am (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2011-01-31 01:48 am (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2011-01-31 01:21 am (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2011-01-31 01:49 am (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2011-01-31 02:05 am (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2011-02-01 11:30 pm (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2011-01-31 05:08 am (UTC)Can't they just DO IT ALREADY? Why must they torture me? Why?
This is so, so good.
(no subject)
Date: 2011-02-01 11:32 pm (UTC)Also, I think if these two ever actually did it on screen I would probably die of squeeing so much. If they drag it out for the entire series, I might not last. (that's a lie, I would, but I'd be bitter the whole time).