James was always open to letting you trace his tattoos and caress his arms as you cuddled. It was just something you always did that he knew you loved. It wasn’t rare to find you two in bed way too early, wrapped up in each others arms as you slide your fingers over the smooth planes of his skin. However, one day he suggested a much better idea to make your habit more set in stone.
I was laying in bed with James, wrapped up in his strong arms as I laid on his chest. I was currently wearing one of his older Metallica shirts that was way too big on me and a pair of tiny sleep shorts. His outfit wasn’t much off from mine, just a pair of lounge shorts adorning his body.
He smiled at me, admiring my face and the way I looked in his shirt as I was in his army. “You’re the best wife ever, honey, I love you so much.” He spoke softly, his voice calm and steady. I let out a shy smile, my face turning pink despite my familiarity with his sweet words. “I love you too, Jamie..” I spoke back, calling him by my favorite nickname.
I felt his stubbly chin brush against my forehead as he leaned in to press a chaste kiss to my skin. I leaned into his chest further, placing my hands on his back as he continued to kiss my face and head.
As we continued to relax, my mind trailed from the never ending love that he laid on me to the tattoos that covered his skin. I brought my hand up to a more recent one on his shoulder and smoothed it flat against it. With that I began to trace one of his tattoos, tickling him just a bit in the process.
“Watch yourself, hon, we have places to be.” He chuckled, warm and hearty from the bottom of his chest.
“I know I know- I just can’t help myself with these tattoos.” I said sheepishly, brushing my own bangs back as I looked up at him.
“Hey don’t stop, I liked that yknow.” He spoke suddenly, and only then did I realize that my hand was no longer tracing his tattoo but instead lying slack on the satin sheets below us.
“Mm I’m sorry, I didn’t realize this tough guy liked me tracing his tattoos huh?” I joked, but I was really only have serious. There’s a chance I might like it more than he does. I brought my hand back up to him, his back this time as I felt around where the ink sat embedded in the epidermis of his skin.
“You should do this more often.” James whispered, as if the rockstar was embarrassed by his love for his wife (the pda he started often was far more embarrassing, just not for him I suppose?)
I leaned back in, getting a whiff of his natural musk that remained in his hair from the shower he took the previous night. Hints of vanilla and pine that took over my senses the more I relaxed. His hand found its way to my hip, holding me against him and rubbing my back soothingly.
At this rate we were never getting out of the house. Lars might kill us but he’ll be okay..
Eli groaned as he settled on the edge of the bed to untie his shoes while you shed your dress and hastily pull your nightgown over your head while his back was still turned.
“I enjoyed today,” he says suddenly. “Did you have a nice time?”
You hear his shoes clunk on the floor and shuffling as he begins to dress for bed. Eli’s near-nudity didn’t make you nearly as nervous as the prospect of him seeing you. You’d seen him in his boxers countless times when you had gone swimming together in your youth. Things were so different now, but at the end of the day, Eli was still the same boy you had spent almost your entire life beside.
“Of course I did, I married an amazing man.”
He pauses for a brief moment, before resuming his present task. “What about the house? Do you like the house?”
Oh he was so terribly nervous. Before the wedding, Eli was as composed as a monk, calling on the pastor from the next town over to officiate, calmly instructing the women of the congregation on how to decorate the church. He had it all together while you clambered for your composure just outside the door, waiting for your cue.
But here he was, anxious now as you were earlier that morning, questioning if you were actually happy with the life the two of you were building. The house he had had built for the two of you to live in was beautiful. A small place with three bedrooms, settled under the big tree not far from the church. Asking him for anything more would be foolish. It was perfect as it was.
“I’d love anything you gave me,” you reply, pulling back the covers and slipping into the bed.
He sighs deeply. “That’s not what- please be honest.”
“Darling, it’s a very nice house. Don’t be so nervous, I’m just your wife.”
Eli slips into the bed beside you, leaning against the headboard, smiling softly when you roll over to face him.
“That’s the terror of it. I’ve married the woman I’ve loved since I was a child. I don’t know where to go from here.”
“As sentimental as ever,” you chide jokingly, moving to rest your head on his thigh, tugging the blanket around your face. “I thought I had lost you when you gave your life over to God.”
Eli had suddenly become a zealot when he was fifteen, turning almost all of his attention to the scripture. He’d left town when he was seventeen to study under another Pastor a few towns over, returning when he was nineteen and promptly asking you to allow him to formally court you. He was your childhood sweetheart, so naturally you agreed, and so did your parents, thinking that a man of God would be good to tame your wild nature.
Ever the untamed child you were, always coming home after dark with scraped knees and bruises from falling out of trees, a sheepish Eli trailing behind you, knowing he was going to be punished for being late, but refusing to leave you. Summer days spent holed up in a blackberry thicket gorging yourself on the sweet fruits, face and fingers sticky, bathing in the pond after to rid yourself of the feeling, returning home hours later in your soaked shift, dress thrown haphazardly over your shoulder as you darted past your neighbors to avoid being seen.
As you’d grown older, Eli was less resistant to going swimming with you, then laying in the sun in the grass, chatting as you waited for your underclothes to dry, sometimes stealing a kiss or two if one of you felt brave that day. You two had been especially close in the weeks right before Eli had disappeared. When he did, you’d grieved him like he was dead, despite his folks and yours assuring you it was only a temporary arrangement.
Even though Eli was a ‘Pious’ man, and in all technicality, in charge of you, he let you do as you pleased, not having it in his heart to stamp out your youthful nature. He preached his sermons and then followed you to the pond to swim for a few hours before walking you home for the evening. He’d return right after breakfast the next morning to get you and not be surprised when he was informed that you’d already been gone for hours. When he would find you perched in a tree, munching on whatever fruit grew there, he would join you, talking for hours or sitting in silence. It didn’t matter much to him, he was just happy to be back.
“I gave myself to God so I didn’t humiliate myself. I was so young and immature I surely would have driven you away. I had to put the energy elsewhere.”
You chuckle and wrap your arms around his leg. “It’d take an act of God to get rid of me.”
“Don’t say that,” he laughs, running his fingers through your hair, fighting the urge to admit that the prospective act of God terrified him.
“Sorry,” you hum, pulling his leg closer to your body.
“I’m joking, darling. You usually wrap your hair when you sleep, what’s changed?” Oh he just loved bringing up the time he walked in on you in your night clothes a few months ago after forgetting to knock. You could have very well been nude. Had he no shame?
“Aren’t pastor’s wives supposed to be plain, besides, don’t we have ‘marital duties’ to carry out?”
Eli chuckles at your comment and prys your hands from him so he can settle himself beside you. “I’d have to go blind to see you as plain. We only have to lay together if you’d like to, I’ve abstained long enough that I don’t think a while more will kill me.”
“I’ve always been curious as to what it’s like. I wouldn’t mind,” you hum, pulling yourself to rest on his chest, basking in the rise and fall of his breath and the gentle thrum of his heartbeat.
His heart stutters at your words. “Has nobody told you what it’s like?”
“No, mother said it was unladylike to speak about it so we never did.”
“When have you ever been ladylike? It’s almost cruel, sending you into the lion’s den unarmed. My father sat me down to talk about it once, right before I left. It was uncomfortable,” he pauses and releases a breath. “He went into excruciating detail about… many things. Perhaps that’s what drove me away. I believe I was too young to fathom the complexity of the situation then.”
“How do you mean,” You question, propping yourself up on his chest watching as he thinks carefully of his answer, a soft pink dusting his cheeks, drawing a smile to your lips.
“I couldn’t connect the feeling, the… experience to the explanation. Youth is overzealous with emotion. It drives to the point of madness, there was no time to truly think on it. I believe I have a firmer grasp on it now,” he hums, bumping his forehead against yours.
Eli’s in a state you’ve never seen him in, his pupils blown wide, his face flushed, lips parted slightly, warm breath ghosting against your lips as you gaze down at him. You bring the hand not supporting you up to tangle in his chestnut hair, leaning down, brushing your lips softly against his before kissing him warmly. His arms wrap around you, pulling you into him as he follows your lips with his, urging you to kiss him more harshly, and you do. You’re fervent, soft flesh against flesh, and mess of teeth and tongue and obscenely wet sounds as the two of you become closer than you’ve ever been.
You whine when he bites your lip a bit too harshly, almost drawing blood, but he realizes his wrongdoing and quickly soothes it with his tongue. One hand moves up to hold the back of your head while the other trails down your side to grip your thigh with almost bruising vigor, urging you to straddle his thigh. You allow him to pull your leg where he wants it, settling into your new place over him. Eli falls back against his pillow, heaving for breath, saliva trailing down his chin, a dopey smile gracing his lips as he slyly brings his thigh up between yours, making your breathing hitch in your throat at the friction, a warmth pooling in your belly, familiar but not.
“Have you- Have you ever…touched yourself,” he asks, innocently enough, leaning up to press his lips briefly against yours again.
“No.”
“Oh, God,” he groans, squeezing his eyes shut, pushing his head back into the pillow. His hands roam up your back, bunching your nightgown in his hands as they fall to rest on your hips, pulling you into his thigh, drawing a soft moan from your lips. “M-May I,” he murmurs, tugging on the cloth to distinguish his intentions.
“Yes,” you whisper back, pulling away to allow him to pull your nightgown over your head, leaving you completely bare before him. His cheeks flush a deeper shade of crimson and he looks away for a moment before focusing his gaze back on your face. “You look almost as embarrassed as I feel.”
Eli opens his mouth to speak, promptly closing it and furrowing his eyebrows. “I’ve just never seen a woman like this is all.”
“And I’ve never been seen,” you counter, crossing your arms over your chest.
He chuckles, scrunching up his nose and bringing a hand up to run his thumb along your cheek. “Nothing to be ashamed of, you’re amazing. Kiss me?”
You lean down, and bump your nose against his before pressing your lips to his, and he kisses you the way he had before, drawing physical reactions from you. HIs hand gives your waist another squeeze before shifting his weight, rolling you onto your back and following close behind. Your breath hitches in your throat as you realize you’re suddenly at his mercy. The scraggly, unimposing boy you had known had grown into a man during his time away, still far from intimidating, but Eli was of his own will now, knowing what he wanted and he had the means to get it. You wouldn’t oppose him even if you wanted to.
The sound Eli makes when he ruts his hips against yours floods you with unfamiliar emotions, urging his body closer to yours. Despite your urging, he pulls away, taking you in, his brows furrowing again, his eyes drifting to the side as he thinks. Finally he decides his course of action and pulls one of your legs up to his shoulder, kissing your ankle chastely. He works his way up your leg, his kisses becoming harsher as he reaches the tender skin of your inner thigh before stopping. You tangle your fingers in his hair, tugging softly to encourage him to continue whatever it was he was planning.
He buries his face in between your legs, his tongue carefully testing your reaction. When you whine and fist his hair more harshly, he takes it as a sign that he’s pleasing you. It’s clear from his uncertainty that he’s inexperienced, his mouth moving hesitantly against you as he gauges each reaction separately. He’s a fast learner, doubling down on the motions that draw the most from you, reveling in the way your back arches and your thighs squeeze around his head.
You whimper above him, attempting to squirm away from him, prompting him to grab your thighs and pull you back to him. The pleasure he takes in knowing he’s the only one that’s ever made you feel like this, that he’s the only one that you’ve let please you, it’s almost too much for him to bear. He releases one of your thighs, bringing his fingers to tease at your entrance, gathering the slick combination of your arousal and his saliva on them before carefully easing them into you.
A moan tumbles from your lips at the sensation. Eli’s fingers are almost skillful as they curl into you, beckoning you closer and closer to the edge. And then you’re there, falling over with a cry of his name, pulling him closer and squeezing him with your thighs as he pulls you through your orgasm. The sensation’s so unfamiliar that you don’t even register that it’s too much until you’re trembling and pushing him away.
When Eli pulls himself away from you he looks as wrecked as you feel, his hair mussed, chin slick with you, gasping for breath as he wipes his mouth on the back of his hand. “Are you- okay? Was that good?”
All you can do is nod and whine, opening your arms to him weakly. He accepts your offer and settles his head on your chest, taking notice of how erratic your heart is in your chest, of how he made it that way. He stretches up to kiss you again. It’s rougher than he would have liked, but he’s still worked up, straining painfully against his cotton shorts as he does his best to keep his composure for your sake.
“Eli, what about you,” you ask, sliding your hand down his back, toying with the waistband of his shorts.
“I’m fine, you don’t have to-”
“I want to, besides, it doesn’t really count if we don’t right?”
“Okay, are you sure you’re ready,” he asks, propping himself up on his elbow, looking down at you, taking in your soft expression.
“Of course,” you reply, smiling innocently as you push his shorts off his hips. He kicks them the rest of the way off. The sudden realization that Eli is completely naked has you putting all of your focus into maintaining eye contact.
“Nervous,” he teases, leaning down to kiss you.
“Me? Never,” you counter, your fingers cautiously crossing the space between you and taking hold of him. His cock is heavy in your hand, your touch making his breath catch in his throat helplessly. Eli’s hips fall into place as you open yourself to him. His hand comes down to guide your hand in lining him up with your entrance, whining as he teases himself against you.
Eli groans and drops his head into the crook of your shoulder as he pushes into you, just barely, slowly easing himself in, giving you time to stretch around him. You grip his shoulder, nails leaving crescent imprints as his hips finally meet yours, a breathy sigh falling from his lips at the sensation. The fullness he brings is almost too much, tears brim in your eyes as Eli brings his forehead to rest against yours, a sign of affection he had been giving you for years when he didn’t know what else to say or do, just a gentle reminder that he’s there with you. It was comforting and familiar despite all the new things you had done together already that day.
“Eli,” you breathe, leaning up to brush your nose against his. “I’m okay, you can, you can move now.” He nods against you and pulls his hips away slowly, the drag making you both moan. Eli sets a slow pace, bringing his hand to rest on the side of your neck, thumb caressing the curve of your cheekbone as he leans to kiss you.
His thrusts become sloppy as he gets closer to his own high, moving his hand from your face down between you, clumsily trying to get you to finish before him, groaning when you tighten around him. You fall over first, wrapping your legs around his back as his hips stutter and he spills inside you. He drops his body onto yours haphazardly, completely spent, groaning and kissing you despite fighting for his breath.
When he pulls away an emptiness follows, making you want to hold him closer as he settles on his side of the bed facing you. “Was that good? Do you need anything?”
You just nod and pull yourself towards him, resting your head on his chest, listening as his heart rate slowly returns to normal. “It was good, you don’t have to keep asking. Just hold me.”
“Okay,” he murmurs, you can hear the soft smile in his voice even though you can’t see him. He wraps his arms around you and strokes your hair as the two of you drift off to sleep together.
I’ve always had the headcanon that Ford eats and sleeps more when he’s happy. So several months into the Stan O War II adventures, he gets a lil tum tum.
