#ask fuck yeah physica

[omegalomania]

hello 8 days ago you drew some very cool mania fan art and you said the narrative isn’t relevant but have you considered…..it is relevant to me ? (please share)

dklfldkjflkd ALL RIGHT WELL if you're asking thennnnn

oh my god this got so fucking long. im putting it under a cut because it contains a) a fuckload of text and b) some concept drawings and stuff that i threw in there cause why not.

(for anyone unaware, the ask is referring to this art i posted without much context a little while ago, though it also relates to this one.)

so basically back when mania was like, the new hotness, there was only one big like popular bandom au based around it and frankly i fucking hated it. i dont want to get too mean but i really did think it kind of sucked and it felt like a bunch of missed opportunities and it fizzled out cause the creators sucked anyway but even on a conceptual level i was just so over it. so a couple weeks ago i get heated about this in the groupchat and go "what if i just invented a different mania au, but better." and no one told me to do it but i just went for it anyway because this is what happens when you leave me alone in a room i just start Making Shit

so behold, an au that caters to no one except me, birthed from spite. literally all the file names for these are labeled "mania spite au" and so on. this came from a desire to meld themes from the album into a semi-cohesive narrative

so whats the narrative? GLAD YOU ASKED

for the central "antagonist" i decided to use the mania entertainment group concept, which is something fob toyed with in marketing the album but never really did anything with. so, fine. here's this massive entertainment-based company and they're fucking huge. they're fucking massive. think disney, basically.

employees at this fuckoff massive company include 3 ordinary dudes: patrick, a sound engineer; joe, an electrical engineer; and pete, a dude with a position in admin.

for various reasons all three of them are just kind of drifting in this state of not really wanting to be there but not having a lot of choice. patrick is neutral about the work he does but isn't really in love with it, mostly just keeps his head down and minds his own. joe hates the work, hates the ethos, hates the ideology of the company works for, but seeing as MEG is so big there's basically no alternatives so he has to grit his teeth and do it. pete basically inherited this big shot position in administration but feels fundamentally directionless and didn't actually engage in the work out of a genuine passion for it buuuut it's not like he can just walk away from a really good position especially without a fallback plan.

that's the backdrop. inciting incident?

an interdimensional demigod gets stuck in MEG's basement.

kinda anyway.

theres a rupture in the fabric of spacetime. and out spills this guy, the demigod of instability. since he's, you know, fundamentally unstable, he basically broke into this reality by mistake and gets himself stuck. and because MEG is a big shitty company and their only morality is profit incentive they look at this dude and go "hey, free power source” because hes yknow, an interdimensional minor deity so he’s kind of got a lot of power at his disposal at baseline.

so yes theres our setup. three guys working at this shit company, and one glitched up demigod who's stuck being exploited directly by said company. and he doesnt get a name right away i guess cause hes a freakin god Why Would He but yeah that guys andy.

also fun fact those glowy glyphs hes got instead of tattoos are the same fictional language we see the little girl in the young and menace video speaking.

SO anyway andy is stuck in the basement of a fuckoff massive company having his power leached/exploited and he's desperate to escape. so one night he takes advantage of the fact that hes literally the avatar for the very concept of instability and blows the building power, in the process zapping the three dudes closest to his physical location. like so.

dudes all black out, pass out, and when they wake up they're subtly different though they don't know it yet. joe, patrick, and pete have all become god-infected and since andy is a deity of instability, they’ve all been infected with subsets of that power. each of these powers relate to their mentalities at the point of infection as well as certain lines and themes that exist on the album.

joe is infected with temporal instability. glitching forward and backward in time, temporal looping, shit like that. this is mostly restricted to his own personal timeline; he can affect his own future, not anyone else’s, cause he isnt exactly a god here just a god-infected mortal.

patrick is infected with kinetic instability. basically this means he gets control over the way things move; speeding or slowing momentum, switching directions ,etc.

pete is infected with material instability. essentially, he can alter and phase states of matter. he can’t fundamentally alter the molecules in an object, but he can alter the way those molecules are arranged.

side effects of god infection include but are not limited to: hearing the voices of other god-infectees in your brain! hearing that god try to communicate with you in Your God Damn Dreams! accumulating more and more otherworldly traits the more you use your weird new god infection powers! and MORE

the long and short of it is that andy uses this newly established mental link to say “im stuck in your shitty company’s basement please help” and eventually they do that. they break this guy out and in the process end up on the wrong side of the mania entertainment group, the law, the entire city, the world...basically they’re fucked and literally all they have is each other.

i also wanted to draw predominantly from the album themes, at least as i interpreted them. i figure it’d be pretty tasteless to do a straight up narrative About a mental breakdown. instead i look at the elements present in the album as stuff that can be paralleled in a narrative. no, the album does not deal literally with being some kind of extradimensional entity, but it does deal with the idea of feeling heavily isolated, misunderstood, and like you have no friends. the album does not deal with going on the run from a super-powerful corporate conglomerate that wants you and your friends in their custody, but it does deal with the idea that society expects you to adhere to certain strictures, and deviation from those will be punished. mania as an album discusses what it is to feel dissonant compared to those around you - how you can feel innately monstrous, or incorrect, or like your flaws make you fundamentally impossible to love. that’s part of the reason i like the idea of physical transformation being displayed on each of the guys as they use their otherworldly god infection powers more and more; as they become a little more decoupled from how reality expects them to be, they start to look less “perfect” in the eyes of how the world expects them to behave. but it’s those flaws that give them strength, bind them together, and allow them to relate to one another. not fitting in, which makes them so miserable at first, becomes crucial to how they eventually become drawn to one another.

if this whole thing sounds like an excuse for a cosmic found family trope youre right thats what this is because who the fuck do you think youre talking to.

in order to make that big long illustration i posted earlier, i basically drew a bunch of busts as concepting, got carried away, and then cropped them down. here are the full images if anyone is curious.

interdimensional demigod of instability andy. the glowing sigils all over him shift and swirl and never really sit in one place which means i don’t have to worry about consistency when i draw them ho ho

joe gets this inky pinky distortion/corruption deal the more he uses his temporal instability powers. it never consumes him completely and it doesn’t hurt or affect how he moves around but it can look pretty alarming, especially when wee little bits start flaking off him.

patrick’s design is perhaps obviously based on those llama things that fob got sued over lol cause a) i think patrick getting horns is great and b) again i wanted to draw from the album’s marketing. using his kinetic instability powers starts with sprouting horns and then comes the teeth, the fur, etc. idk how far i want this kind of corruption to go but it could be gnarly if he becomes a big furry werebeast at some point like that’d be fun.

pete’s design doesn’t go as hard as i originally wanted it to but i liked how it turned out too much to alter it. he gets four stubby little horns and volcanic veins like lightning bolts jagging up all over his skin. the veins are the giveaway that he’s using his material instability powers, but the more he uses them he eventually gets himself some horns too.

all four of the guys get rad glowing eyes cause im a sucker for that shit

ALL RIGHT I THINK THATS IT. again i literally just invented this thing during my lunch hour at work out of spite and its just something i think is fun to dick around with. i dont have any serious thoughts about it or whatever but im flattered literally anyone is curious about it so THANK YOU FOR ASKING

#dilfpetewentz #askin hours #*mine #*art #mania entertainment group #*lore #i forgot i made a lore tag for big dumps of me going off like this #ONCE AGAIN. THANK YOU FOR ASKING #if youre in a gc w me you will regularly be inflicted with me just going off on random tangents of exploratory worldbuilding #they serve no purpose except to fulfill my desires as i cater to my target audience of : myself

[xmxisxforxmaybe]

Decryption_Error: “Fourth of July, Part I”

Summary: As Y/N deals with the stress of transitioning into her new position, she also has to find time to ask Elliot a very important question. 

Story Summary,  “The Server Room, Part I”,  “The Server Room, Part II”  “The Long Weekend, Part I”,  “The Long Weekend, Part II”,  “The Aftermath”,  “Undecided”,  **“Decided”,  “Spooked”

Word Count: 5500

Tags: @sherlollydramoine @rami-malek-trash @teamwolf2411 @limabein @txmel @hopplessdreamer @alottanothing @ouatlovr @backoftheroomandnotbelonging @moon-stars-soul​ @free-rami​ @ramimedley

If you want added or I’ve missed your request, let me know : )

Warning: SMUT and a lot of it so NO under 18s

The next few workdays were a blur as I transitioned to CISTech’s General Manager. I worked long hours, learning the ins and outs of what Miles did on a daily basis. Like with most jobs, the higher you climbed, the less you actually worked within your field, which was going to be a struggle because I counted on the way analyzing trends kept my mind balanced. I took note after note until Miles banned me from writing anything else down.

“This is all sensitive material, Y/N. You have to be cautious and leaving 500 post-its lying around is a surefire way not to safeguard sensitive information.”

Despite my scowl, Miles held firm, so I stopped taking notes and stuck to paying more attention as I shadowed him.

The transition wasn’t made any easier by the impending Fourth of July weekend. Since theFourth fell on a Thursday, the office was closed on Friday, too. That meant the interviews for my replacement weren’t going to take place for at least another week or two.

And weighing the heaviest on my mind was not my new job or who my replacement would be, but that in the midst of the chaos of my promotion, I was running out of time to invite Elliot to my parents’ house in Greenwich.

What made my procrastination worse was that he was being so patient as I was barely able to see him for more than a minute or two when I passed through the cybersecurity office. Sticking with routine, if I hadn’t texted him by 7:00 pm, he’d text me to ask how I was, to ask if I needed anything, or to ask if I just wanted to talk for a bit. In short, he was being the perfect boyfriend, the very thing he thought he couldn’t possibly be.

The beginnings of relationships are always so fragile, but because Elliot and I were friends first, and because of the trust we had built after I helped him, I knew he and I would make it through this hectic transition.

However, I was not so sure if we would make it through me asking him to meet my family. I knew it was soon, but I was also sure of my feelings for Elliot—I had meant it when I decided I was going to be a constant in his life. He deserved to have someone who cared about him, and he deserved to move forward, to not be haunted by his past or by what he perceived to be his “abnormalities.”  

Since it was the Monday before the Fourth, carving out a quiet moment with Elliot became a non-negotiable. I cleared my lunch hour and told my new secretary I was going to be out of the building.

When I appeared at Elliot’s desk, I almost scared him out of his skin. His fingers stumbled over the keys of his computer and he yanked out his earbuds. I had learned long ago that Elliot didn’t actually listen to music at work—he just put in his earbuds so no one would talk to him.

“Didn’t mean to startle you,” I said, a smile playing with the corner of my mouth at his wide, surprised expression. “Do you have time for a quick lunch?”

More than a few eyes in the office were watching us with a mild curiosity. Word got out pretty fast about our meeting with HR, but I figured most people weren’t willing to believe Elliot and I were an actual couple. At least until they saw it for themselves.

“Uh, yeah. Sure,” Elliot said, closing out his windows and turning off his monitor.

As I watched his fingers move, I couldn’t help but to think back to what his hands felt like on my skin. And when I raked my eyes over his arms and up to his face, I couldn’t help but remember what his stubbled jaw had felt like under my fingertips as I pulled him in for that goodbye kiss—

“Is everything okay?” Elliot asked, his eyes searching my face, trying to figure out what I was thinking.

“Yeah, of course,” I said with an awkward smile as I looked down and adjusted my bag.

When Elliot stood up and slid his phone into the front pocket of his trousers, my eyes followed the movement, and I shook my head and turned around before an actual blush could appear on my face.

My body missed him.

I missed him.

We rode down the elevator in silence, standing just close enough that I could feel the fabric of his muted blue dress shirt glancing over the skin of my arm. Never had I wanted to hit the stop button on the elevator and just kiss someone senseless more than I did in that moment.

Elliot followed me out of the elevator and across the lobby. Again, neither of us spoke as we navigated the busy streets of Wall Street at lunch time, the silence between us just as loud as the bustle of taxis and cars.

“Is this good?” I asked, stopping outside of a mid-size Chinese restaurant we had ordered take-out from a few times.

“Sure.”

After we were seated and the waitress took our drink orders, I started talking in a stream-of-conscious ramble.

“I know this isn’t the ideal place or time or whatever to talk to you about this, but I’m running out of time considering I wasn’t expecting to get a promotion of all fucking things on top of a new relationship and it’s the Monday before the Fourth and I know this is last minute, especially for you, but it really can’t wait any longer.”

Elliot looked down as he muttered, “Okay,” before I started rambling again.

“My parents are having a get together over the Fourth of July, and they would really love it if you’d come. They’re eager to meet you and I’m eager for you to meet them. And by gathering I mean just my family—my mom, dad, sisters, and brother and their significant others. Oh, and my sister’s kids, of course, although I’m not really a very good aunt because I see them like three times a year.”

Elliot just stared at me, so I continued.

“I know it’s . . . a lot, but I wanted to tell you now, well, I wanted to tell you last week but time got away from me and I know you like to think about stuff, but I’m trying to give you some time to think about this because it is really important to me—don’t answer me now. Just think about it. Or ask any questions you have as you think about them. So, yeah. Think about it?”

“Are you ready to order?” the waitress asked, startling both of us from my one-sided conversation.

We ordered, me falling back on my staple of chow mein, and Elliot ordering his go-to, sesame chicken.

As soon as the waitress left, Elliot took a deep breath.

“I thought you were breaking up with me.”

I snorted, an absolutely unsophisticated honking of a laugh, which caused Elliot to half-smile.

“Well, in that case, is my actual reason for asking you to lunch better or worse?”

“Do I have to answer that right now?”

I smiled, relieved that Elliot hadn’t bolted, but saddened he still thought our relationship was so tenuous—the exact opposite of what I thought it was.

Elliot’s hands moved to circle around his glass.

“I miss you,” he said with a low voice, barely even a murmur, as his eyes watched the condensation on the glass.

I slowly reached across the table to lightly touch his finger. He moved it away from the glass and I slid my finger along his, my eyes slipping shut at the contact.

“Tonight. Stay over?”

I opened my eyes to find Elliot looking at me as I asked him to stay, and he gave me that small smile I loved so much.

“Okay.”

* * * * *

In a mimic of our first night together, the instant Elliot shut my apartment door behind him, I was on him, pressing him against the door, molding my body to his. Lunch had passed in fragments of idle conversation because we both knew the other was thinking about this.

When I pulled back from my kiss hello, he was right there, so present, in front of me with his grey eyes looking at me like I held some sort of secret he had been searching the world over for.

“Can we go slow tonight?” Elliot asked, his eyes holding mine as his hands rested lightly on my waist.

“Of course. Whatever you want,” I said gently.

“I want to be good for you,” Elliot clarified.

“Oh—” I said, a little surprised at his directness. “I want to be good for you, too. You’re not the only one who thinks about those things.”

“Really?”

“Really.”

Elliot’s muscles relaxed and he tightened his grip on my waist.

“Come on,” I said, my breath ghosting across his lips.

“Wait,” Elliot said, his eyes slipping shut as he moved forward and kissed me.

His lips stayed pressed against mine for a long moment before they began to move. Elliot’s tongue softly swiped between my lips and I opened instantly, welcoming him to deepen the kiss and set the pace he wanted.

The kiss was slow as Elliot explored my mouth, his tongue moving so languidly that my body reacted, a gentle warmth of arousal building slowly within me.

He closed the kiss as softly as it began, and I opened my eyes to watch as he lazily opened his. I smiled softly and took his hand to lead him down the hallway to my room.  

When I released him to pull down my comforter and to turn on some music, Elliot stood in the doorway with his arms crossed, shuffling before uncrossing, then crossing his arms again.

“Relax. We’ve already done this,” I said with a chuckle as I scrolled through my playlists.

“Not like this. This is—” Elliot trailed off as he uncrossed his arms again.

I hit play and music began to emit from my speaker, not loud enough to be distracting, but loud enough to disrupt any uncomfortable silence.

“More intimate?” I questioned, fishing for what was really bothering him.

“What if we don’t work?”

I blinked, taken aback.

“We already worked. I mean, I worked just fine and I think you did, too?”

“Not physically. In all the other ways? What if we don’t work?”

I took a deep breath, and said, “This is about this weekend.”

Elliot sort of deflated as he walked to my bed and sat down, his feet just touching the floor because of my high bedframe.

“I’ve never met someone’s parents before.”

“It’s not as intimidating as you’re imagining it to be. Everyone will be there, so it won’t feel like the focus is on you. I want them all to know you, to see how smart you are. To see how kind you are. To see the way you look at me.”

Elliot looked up and gave me just the sort of look I knew my mother would notice.

“Like that,” I chuckled. “Full of affection.”

“Am I that easy to read?”

I snorted.

“God no. It’s just that sometimes, some part of you wears your heart on your sleeve. I like those moments so much. Those moments when you’re really here, really present. Whatever bothers you—depression, or your anxieties—it’s all far away.”

“Because you make me forget,” Elliot said to the floor.

“Forget what?” I asked slowly, unsure if I wanted to hear the answer.

Elliot ran a hand through his hair, tugging at the strands for a second.

“Forget what it’s like to be lonely.”

My heart fluttered at the tenderness of his sad words.

“You don’t ever have to feel like that again. I’m not going anywhere. Actually, we technically just signed a contract, remember?” I said, trying to get a little laugh out of him.

Elliot smiled softly, “If only it were that easy to make sure you stayed.”

“Boy. We’ve got loads of emotional baggage to unpack, huh?”

“You have no idea,” Elliot said, his voice barely concealing bitterness.

“All the more reason to meet my family. You can see that no family is ‘normal,’ especially not mine.”

Elliot looked up again, his voice a perfect monotone as he asked, “Are you really sure you want this—you want me so visibly in your life?”

“Elliot. We slept together once, I asked you to be my boyfriend, and then I went straight to HR to disclose. If that wasn’t a telling set of actions, I really don’t know how else to prove to you I’m really fucking sure I want to be with you.”

“I’m sorry.”

“Don’t say you’re sorry. Show me.”

His hands gripped the edge of the mattress as he lifted his head to squarely look at me. Elliot was characteristically quiet before finally replying, “Okay—I’ll meet them. I’ll spend the weekend with your family.”

With a sharp intake of breath, I bit my lip in an attempt to hide my grin. This was a big step, and I hadn’t been sure Elliot would take it.

I crossed the room and nudged my way between his legs. He reached up and wrapped his arms around my hips, pulling me in so he could hug me, his head pressing into my chest.

I ran my hand through his hair, gently scratching along his scalp and mussing his styled-straight strands. Once Elliot released me from his grip, I took a step back so I could kneel in front of him.

He was watching me with wide eyes as I began to untie his black dress shoe. I pulled it off, then untied the other one. I slowly reached my hands under and up his dark grey trousers, feeling for the edges of his black socks. When I found them, I curled my fingers in and pulled both of them off. His toes flexed as he reached to steady himself on the floor. I ran my fingers over the tops of his feet to see if he was ticklish, but he didn’t react. I smiled because I wasn’t at all surprised that Elliot Alderson wasn’t ticklish.

I ran my hands up the back of his calves and around his knees to slide across the tops of his thighs. I braced myself and stood, my hands sliding to his hips as I leaned forward to press a soft kiss to his lips.

“Is this okay?” I whispered against his lips.

“Yes,” Elliot breathed.

I unbuckled his belt and opened his pants before moving my hands to his dress shirt. Starting from the bottom, I worked my way up, opening each button. Before I slid his shirt off, I stopped to kiss along his jaw, working my way to behind his ear. As I sucked, just a little, Elliot’s hand shot out to grip at my hip.

I pulled back and slid his shirt off, tugging before I realized I hadn’t unbuttoned his cuffs. I made quick work of those buttons, pulled off the dress shirt, and dropped it to the floor.

As I reached for the hem of his black t-shirt, I looked at him, his cheeks tinged with color and his lips parted. Elliot was always so beautiful in moments like this with his edges softened and his eagerness to be loved becoming almost tangible.  

He straightened and lifted his arms as I pulled the worn fabric away from his body.

I delighted in the fact that Elliot was now mine to look at for as long as I pleased. We’d come a long way from my stolen glances in the bathroom as I tended his cuts and bruises.

“Uh?” Elliot mumbled quizzically, his hands back to grasping at the edge of the bed.

“I’m allowed to look at you as much as I want,” I said, my eyes half-lidded and with a smirk on my lips.

Elliot blinked up at me, and I smiled before I took pity on him and gave him something to do.

“Scoot back. Relax.”

He complied, and I reached to pull off his trousers, kicking them to the side so I could stand between his now dangling legs. He was perched on his elbows, watching me as I slid my nails up and down his bare thighs, loving the feeling of the thick, curly hair on his legs.

I toyed with the edges of his black boxer-briefs, sliding my fingers underneath the edges, creeping up until the fabric began to bunch.

Elliot’s cock was hard, outlined perfectly beneath his underwear, and I licked my lips before I looked up at him.

“Talk to me this time. Tell me what you like. What you want.”

And I flicked my eyes back to his underwear as I removed my hands from under them and reached to pull the waistband down. Elliot quickly lifted his hips, and I once again let my eyes rake over his body, now totally bared to me.

I didn’t look for long because his hips and his stomach were just too tempting, damn near begging to be tasted.

I bent over him, resting comfortably with my thighs pressing into the edge of the bed, and after sweeping my hair to one side, I licked a long stripe over the indentation of Elliot’s hip bone. I repeated my ministration on the other side of his body, then slowly began to kiss my way across his lower abdomen.

When I reached the dark strip of hair that extended down his stomach, I slowly licked my way up the trail, moving further and further from his cock, which was gorgeously swollen and nearly ready to leak.

Elliot’s fingers scrambled against my waist as he tugged on my shirt.

“Tell me what you want,” I said as I pressed soft kisses around his chest.

“Take off your shirt,” Elliot demanded.

A small grunt of pleasure escaped me at the way his voice rumbled through his chest, his command clear, almost confident.

I straightened and quickly pulled off my blouse. My fingers dipped under my bra straps and I stopped, looking at Elliot with a raised brow.

He nodded his head, and I slid off the straps then reached back to unclasp my bra. I ran my hands over my breasts, more out of the delight of finally being free from my bra than in an attempt to look sexy.

But Elliot definitely found my action alluring because he reached down to wrap a hand over his cock, squeezing just enough so that a drop of precum slid out and onto his thumb.

I could not have held back my moan at seeing him touch himself even if my life had depended on it.

“I—” Elliot’s voice faltered and he bit his lip.

“Tell me. Tell me what you need,” I said quietly as I leaned forward again, knowing what he wanted but needing to hear him say it.

“Your mouth. Please. I want your mouth,” he said as he gave himself one more squeeze before removing his hand and laying back on the bed.

I reached out to grip his hips on either side as I flattened my tongue and licked him from base to tip. Elliot’s body gave a little shudder, and I slid my tongue through his slit, tasting him for the first time. I hummed with pleasure and placed small kisses along his cock as I whispered, “I need to hear you, El. Don’t hold it in.”

And then I took him in my mouth, engulfing his hardness and taking him as deep as I was able.

Elliot groaned out a long, “Fuuuck.”

I removed one hand from his hip and wrapped it around the base of his cock. I worked him with my mouth, slowly, not wanting anything to end too soon and honestly, just enjoying the taste of him. I felt his fingers brush at my hair before lightly settling on my head.

I could feel Elliot’s body building to his release, and I reached down to lightly run my fingers over the smooth, tight skin of his testicles.

He groaned again before he breathed out, “Stop—stop.”

I let him go and pulled back, but Elliot was already moving, pulling me onto the bed with him.

“I want you,” he said, pushing me back and moving between my legs, reaching down to undo the clasp on my trousers, fumbling a bit before it popped open.

I helped him slide me out of my pants and my underwear, and I pointed to my nightstand’s drawer. He reached over and pulled out a condom, opening it and rolling it on. I watched and let my legs fall open in gesture of welcome.

“Are you ready?” he asked, his eyes scanning my face.

“God yes,” I said, pulling him on top of me.

Elliot’s eyes slid closed and he kissed me as he positioned himself and entered me. We both gasped into the kiss and Elliot’s hands found my arms, sliding down to my wrists so he could pull them above my head.

He fucked me like that, slowly and sensually, his body rubbing against mine and creating the most delicious friction as I chased my release.

I was so excited by him, and Elliot was surrounding me, overwhelming me—the taste of him in my mouth, the weight of his body on mine, his eyes watching my face until they slid shut with pleasure, his fingers pressing into my wrists, and his cock driving into me.

It didn’t take long before I was flushed and panting, my head thrown back and my mouth open as I ground into him, my aching clit finally giving way to my hard orgasm that rushed through my body, electrifying my skin and pulling out of my mouth a series of praises to god and to Elliot and maybe even to his cock.

And somewhere inbetween my praises and my moans, Elliot let go, his hips slamming into me before slowing as his orgasm sweept over him, his groans and his mumble of my name against my neck so much more subdued than my earlier outburst, but the deep rumble of his voice with a slight crack as he praised me caused another impossible shiver of pleasure to spiral through me.  

Too soon, Elliot untangled himself and sat up to pull the condom off. He tossed it in the trash on the other side of the nightstand and flopped back onto the bed, his chest rising and falling, a slight sheen of sweat glistening between his muscles.

“I was supposed to learn what you liked.”

“I liked that,” I said, smiling and reaching over to trace a finger down the dark trail of hair on his abdomen.

“I’m serious,” Elliot said as he rolled over to face me. “I want to be good for you.”

“Alright—is it my turn now?”

Elliot made a strangled noise of surprise as he struggled to answer, and I laughed out loud.

“I’m teasing,” I said, still laughing. “We aren’t 17.”

And, as if in agreeance with my statement, a yawn escaped, which made Elliot chuckle and hide his face in his pillow. He looked over again, sheepishly.

“I’m not the one yawning,” he said, his voice dripping with snark.

I giggled and opened my mouth in mock-offense.

“No need for the snark, Mr. Alderson.”

“Mmm,” Elliot mumbled as he wrapped an arm around my waist and pulled me against him. I rolled over and settled in next to him, enjoying the feeling of him holding me. I wondered if he could fall asleep like that, but I didn’t find out that night because as soon as my eyes shut, I was dead to the world.

And when I woke up, it was to Elliot pressing light kisses along my bicep, over my shoulder, and against the base of my neck.

“I … like . . . this,” I mumbled, sleep still clinging to my voice.

“Yeah?” he asked as he continued to press featherlight kisses over my skin.

I rolled onto my back to give him better access and Elliot took full advantage, sliding on top of me and settling between my thighs.

He continued to kiss all along my jaw and down my neck, lightly sucking and licking as he made his way to my breasts. He teased my nipples and my body’s response to him was almost shamefully open; my nipples hardened, and my skin prickled with goosebumps. I wanted to rub my thighs together to seek out some contact, but Elliot was in the way, his strong hand holding my hip in place.

“Tell me what you want,” Elliot growled out against my stomach.

His words were an exact echo of mine from last night, and my eyes slipped shut as I reached above my head and squirmed against him.

“Your fingers—touch me, please.”

The weight of Elliot lifted, and I knew he was looking at me, his eyes raking over my wet heat, but I kept my eyes shut tight, wanting to feel everything he was willing to give.

Soon, I felt a tentative finger sliding over my mound and between my lips. My legs fell further apart and I grasped onto the slats of the headboard. Elliot was taking his time, watching my reactions and memorizing them.

He gently slid his finger from my clit to my folds, circling my inner lips before sliding in one long digit, and twisting to seek out the bundle of nerves hidden inside of me.

I hummed with pleasure and unlike Elliot, there was no hesitancy in my request.

“I want your mouth.”

I heard him suck in a shaky breath as the bed moved, and I shivered as Elliot’s hands pushed my thighs even further apart. When his tongue slid between my folds, the moan that escaped my lips was low and filthy.

I knew I was so wet and a part of me felt bad he was going to be covered in the evidence of my arousal, but when I opened my eyes and saw Elliot’s head between my thighs, I damn near came on the spot.

His hair was a mess. His thick fingers were digging into the flesh of my thighs, holding them open, one of them still glistening from being inside of me. And his eyes, dark in the grey light of the morning, were open, locked on mine as he closed his lips over my clit and sucked.

My thighs tried to snap shut but those hands held me open. Elliot relieved some of the pressure and began gently licking at my clit, but it was too late.

I came, hard and fast, my hands gripping the wood of the headboard so tight I was afraid it would snap.

I growled in frustration and wiggled away from Elliot.

“Fuck me,” I said turning over and positioning myself on my hands and knees.

“Y/N,” Elliot moaned, reaching for the nightstand again and rolling on another condom.

There was no pause this time because there was no need to ask if I was ready. There was only the feeling of Elliot sliding his cock into my aching, tight center.

My arms trembled as we fucked, Elliot setting the brutal pace I requested with every “harder” and “faster” muttered.

His hands that were gripping my hips let go to squeeze the flesh of my ass; his groans punctured the air between my moans and my chorus of yesses.

“Fuck, Y/N,” Elliot panted. “I’m going to come.”

“Not yet, not yet,” I begged.

Elliot made a noncommittal noise and pulled at my hips, forcing my arms to buckle so he could push me down into the mattress. He ground against me, and I felt his head rest between my shoulder blades before he pushed up a little on my hip, and that was it—

My second orgasm washed over me in an echo of the one from last night. It was pulsating and slow, warming me and making my heart pound against my chest.

I could feel Elliot’s own heart hammering, and once again, I missed his actual orgasm because I was busy riding my own out.

“So…was that good?” Elliot asked, his voice nothing more than a rasp.

“Shut the fuck up,” I said, breathless and grinning as I wiggled out from under him. “I need a cold shower.”

And maybe even better than all my orgasms combined was the sound of Elliot’s laughter as I made my way to the bathroom.

* * * * *

“Elliot,” I said, rummaging through the black duffle bag on his mattress. “It’s going to be 98 degrees tomorrow. You don’t own a pair of shorts?”

“I don’t like the way they feel.”

“Alright—how about swim trunks?”

“I—don’t swim.”

“Don’t? or Can’t?”

Elliot thought it over for a moment.

“Don’t.”

“Well, that’s a big part of what we do. Swim, kayak, hang out on the beach. You’re going to have to compromise a little.”

“I could just stay here.”

“Don’t you sass me—you told me you’d go.”

“I’m not sassing.”

“Yes, you are,” I said as I tossed another black t-shirt back in his bag and flung myself onto my back, exasperated.

“You’ve gotta work with me a little…just a little.”

“But this is a lot. I don’t think you realize how much this is,” Elliot mumbled, his hands on his hips as he looked around his apartment.

I sat up on my elbows and looked at him. The purple under his eyes was back and it was obvious he was feeling overwhelmed.

“Come here,” I said patting the mattress and sliding into a sitting position, pushing a pillow between my back and the wall.

Elliot frowned, but complied. He sat down on the edge of the bed, too far out of my reach to touch him. It was difficult to be with someone who could be so loving, so open, and then not want you to touch them, but I kept reminding myself that this was new for him and it was new for me. Not every day would be like the night we spent together on Monday.

“I know you’re feeling overwhelmed. Talk to me about it.”

After a minute or so, Elliot began to talk, a quiet murmur in his trademark monotone.

“I have no idea what it’s like to be with a normal family. Mine wasn’t. At least it wasn’t normal with any consistency. All I have, when I do remember, are normal fragments mixed in with all the fucked up shit. I think—I think it was more normal before he died. I remember going to the movies. I used to talk to him all the time, especially when he’d pick me up from school and take me to work with him. After…after he was gone, Darlene was the only sort of normal I had and,” Elliot broke off with a huff of a laugh. “And Darlene isn’t exactly what anyone would describe as normal.”

“Elliot—is that all you see when you look at me? Normal?”

“No,” he said glancing at me. “It’s just hard to look around that sometimes.”

“Maybe this weekend will show you that you’re more normal than you think—we talked about this. Normal is subjective.”

“It is, but I can promise you my childhood is not anyone’s version of normal. I’m not anyone’s version of normal.”  

“But you’re my version of perfect,” I said, smiling widely at Elliot, and enjoying the look of shock on his face.

“Don’t—”

“I love being with you, El. Now who can’t take a compliment?”

“I’m not perfect,” Elliot said slowly, as if I were a child.

“Perfect is subjective—”

“No. The literal definition is “free from flaws, without defects.”

“Sure—for the verb. The adjective, however, states that perfect is having all the required desirable elements, in other words, something being as good as it is possible to be. Sounds subjective to me…and sounds like I’m free to say that you, Elliot Alderson, are perfect for me.”

Elliot’s sigh let me know he wasn’t going to protest, and I said, “Come here.”

He tried to hide his small smile but failed as he scooted closer and sat next to me. I turned my body toward him and reached up to slide my hand along his jaw to cup his face. I turned his head toward me and his eyes, so alert in this moment but still dark in the dim lighting of the apartment, focused on me.

We stayed like that for a long moment until I broke our eye contact as I leaned in, my eyes sliding shut when my lips found his. This kiss was slow and sweet, lips on lips, until I felt Elliot’s tongue ghost along my lower lip.

When I pulled back, I rested my forehead against Elliot’s.

“I’m buying you some swim trunks,” I said, causing Elliot to chuckle, his breath a cool huff across my wet lips.

“Fine.”  

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