#So. Alex just usually shuts him up with a tender loving kiss.

[bloodbathfortwo]

Nigel and Alex have their rare moments of intimacy behind closed doors. Lingering touches, and blazing warmth.

[chxrrylime]

okay okay no ale but alex keller… 😮‍💨🤌🏽

alex keller w a m!reader who is his husband and alex is just totally absolutely smitten 🤭 a hard mission brings him home pent up and frustrated and reader picks up on it and offers himself up for stress relief? but it’s soft and tender loving sex not hard fucking… please? 🙏🏽 bottom reader if you don’t mind 🫡 thank you <3

The movements themself are a little rough but the actions are tender. Can you tell I love him the most? Please send more Alex (begging).

Alex x M!Reader ↪ 1504 words — 18+ / SMUT & ANGST.

Content tags — cis male submissive reader, cis male dominant/service top Alex, anxiety, mention of claiming, unsafe sex, mildly dubious consent, mention of chemical warfare, mild overstimulation, Alex being a little out of it, established relationship, penetrative sex, anal sex, fingering, desperation, reunion sex, biting, and cock warming. 

Alex moans softly against your mouth, long eyelashes tickling your cheekbones and the ungroomed beard scratching pleasantly against your face. 

The usual careful grooming—the nice, straight lines in his fade and the perfect curl to his mustache—has faded into something gruffer and overgrown. Something that had you pausing when he came through the door of your shared apartment. 

He looked tired, and the usual puppy-like excitement of seeing you again was replaced with something more like breathless relief, his shoulders visibly drooping—almost as if he was worried you wouldn’t be there—smiling but not quite reaching his eyes, not like the ones that make the corners crinkle with little crow’s feet like they usually do.

You approached him slowly, cupping his cheek and running your thumb along the new scabbed over cut across the jut of cheekbone. His eyes had fluttered shut, breath coming out in a shaky exhale as he pressed into the touch, starved. He’d dropped his bag and pulled you into a tight hug. It took almost five minutes for him to let you go so you could guide him down to sit on the couch, the dinner you’d made for the both of you forgotten in the kitchen. He didn’t usually have much of an appetite when he came home like this, anyway.

You’d straddled his lap, cradling his head against your chest and running your fingers through his disheveled hair in an attempt to straighten it out a bit. 

“Do you want to talk about it?” You’d asked, tone indifferent.

He’d thought about it for a long moment, and for a second you thought maybe he’d fallen asleep against you.

“Maybe. Later,” he concludes, lifting his chin to look up at you. You smile gently down at him, and he returns it, strong arms tightening around you, “could you…?”

There’s a moment's pause, when you realize he’s not going to finish his sentence.

“Make you feel alive?” You murmur, a chuckle and then a wince at the bit of sadness to your tone.

He’d told you once, after a nightmare—memories of ULF, and Hadir, his brother, he’d said, as chlorine gas threatened to choke the life out of him—he’d told you that you reminded him he’s alive. That he’s still alive.

Despite your slight initial regret at your own word choice, Alex chuckled and nodded. 

“Yeah,” he’d murmured.

That’s how you’d ended up with his pretty lips against yours, soft little noises of pleasure and contentment slipping past them, never one to hide his own arousal. 

He keeps kissing you, licking into your mouth as he blindly grasps for the lube shoved somewhere between the cushions. You swear he stockpiles the shit in every crevice of the apartment, always so prepared.

You don’t realize how bad he’s shaking until he’s struggling to get the tube open, having to pull away from the kiss to look at what he’s doing. You gently set your hands on his inked forearms, trying to steady him.

“Alex…” you whisper, voice laced with the slightest worry.

“I’m okay,” he breathes out in a rush, finally getting enough of a grip to pop the cap open with a click. He squeezes a generous amount onto his fingers, wrapping his arms around you to ruck up your shirt and slip a hand into your boxers, teasing. He rests his forehead against your chest again, breathing you in, “I love you,” he sighs.

His hands still shake, skating across your skin, breath stuttering and occasionally rattling from his damaged lungs, but he knows he’s safe. 

It’s the pent up nerves, a tight coil in his chest present whenever he has to leave you, pressurizing more and more the longer he stays away, away from your touch, your body. So long without the intimacy he craves so deeply. It’s almost overwhelming once that coil can finally spring free, hence the shaking and shortened breaths. 

You rub his shoulders and back as he teases against your hole, slipping two thick fingers into you with ease. You let out a moan at the filling sensation, nails scraping gently up his spine and making him shiver as your fingers tangle tight in the short strands at the base of his skull. 

He uses the movement of his fingers pumping in and out of you to rock you forward and back on his thigh, encouraging you to grind your hard cock against him, straining against the fabric of your boxers and darkening the already dark fabric. 

His freehand winds itself up your side, under your arm to cradle the back of your head, holding you close as he leans up to suck bruises against your throat, desperate to mark you—leave something of him behind, brandished into your skin like belonging. 

“I missed you,” he ushers, strained and gravelly, hot breath fanning across your neck followed by the wet heat of his tongue chasing a droplet of salty-sweet sweat, “so fuckin’ much.”

“Me too, baby, I know,” you breathe, a third finger pushing into you, splaying out to test how stretched you are, making you whine. You can hear the guilt—or not quite guilt, the neglect of his own desires—in his voice, in his gentle, throaty groans and borderline whimpers. 

You shush him as he continues to mouth miserably at your throat, pulling his head back with a gentle tug in his hair, making him strain to look up at you kneeled over him. His pupils are blown so wide, the inky black darkening the sky blue fading around them. 

“C’mon, love,” you urge, trailing your hands down to work his belt open, unbuttoning his pants to free his cock, the hard flesh bobbing out and slapping against his stomach, making him groan, “I want you.”

“Fuck,” he groans again, low and guttural, shoving at the hem of your boxers, doing his best to help you out of them. He wraps his slick hand around your prick, making you gasp as he strokes you slow and sweet, twisting on the upstroke and running his thumb over the sensitive slit. 

You grab his dick in turn, shifting into position until it teases against your fluttering hole, leaking warm lube onto his swollen cockhead. He’s chewing through his lip, and you have to use your freehand to swipe a thumb along the taut skin before he rips it open, sinking down onto him just as he releases the flesh.

He gives a hearty moan, head thrown back against the couch cushions as you take him to the hilt in one swift movement. He’s so, so pent up. You can feel the clear outline of the thick vein that travels up the side of his cock, his flesh pulsing and twitching inside you. 

He moves his hands from your lower half to wrap around your torso instead, pulling you flush to him in a tight hug. You can feel him shift, his legs spreading further apart and forcing your thighs to go as well before he plants his feet, nibbling gently at your shoulder as he starts to rock up into you, his cock perfectly grinding over your prostate on each drag in and out.

You’re both moaning into each other’s ears, Alex rambling as he thrusts, hips straining but desperate to please you, feeling how your prick pushes his own t-shirt up and ruts between the divot of his abdomen, getting his already sweaty skin sticky with precum.

“So goddamn good,” he chokes, and you can tell he’s not going to last long, not like this. You rock your hips back and forth in order to meet his thrusts, simultaneously grinding your cock harder against his flexing stomach, chasing your own pleasure. You can feel his nails digging into your shoulder blades, crooked and slightly jagged from being peeled away at the tips. An anxious habit. The feeling, the sting, steals your breath away, makes you see stars.

Alex suddenly pushes you back with one hand on your shoulder, arching his hips and spine further to keep fucking up into you, his free hand reaching for your cock to stroke it hard and fast as he lets out a string of deep grunts. 

His prick grinds perfectly over your prostate and you're crying out, just as he does, heads thrown back as you ride through the aftershocks, milking each other for all your worth. His hips stop moving relatively quickly, but you have to grip his fist to stop him from mindlessly stroking you to an early, overstimulated grave.

You gently move forward, his gradually softening cock beginning to slip out of you before he grabs your hips bruisingly fast, eyes snapping open.

“Don’t leave,” he rasps, so vulnerable you freeze in your tracks, searching his wide, almost frantic eyes. You nod slowly and settle back down, taking his length back in, watching him visibly slacken as he pulls you into cuddle against him.

You haven’t quite gotten your Alex back just yet, but that’s okay. You’re willing to wait for him however long it takes.

[vinvantae]

Twin Flame

Part 23/25

<< Previous Part

Rating - Mature

Warnings - Explicit language, alcohol and mentions of sex

***********************************************

Fuck Christian.

He’d decided that you were going on a ‘Redbull Family Retreat’ for a couple days between America and Mexico - so that meant 3 days with Pierre and Alex… but no Dan.

“Actually fuck this shit.” You grumbled, shoving things into a rucksack. “I don’t want to team-build. I get on with the people I need to get on with…”

“We can Skype every night, darling.” Your boyfriend wrapped his arms around you from behind, pressing a soft kiss to your shoulder.

“Babe, we’re going to a remote forest to camp. There’s no internet out there.” You whined, turning in his arms and burying your face into his chest. “Come up with a good excuse for me?”

“Don’t think anything would be good enough for Horner unfortunately.”

You pouted and finished packing ‘the essentials’, the things Christian had listed that you were allowed to bring. You were going to be the only girl there as it was drivers, reserves and the pit crews in your camp - as Horner thought those were the people you needed to bond with most. And you hated him.

“When you get to Mexico on Monday, I’ll have a nice hot bubble bath and a glass of champagne waiting for you.” He chuckled, as you stepped into some hiking boots. “Just stick with Max.”

He pressed a tender kiss to your lips before walking you down to the bus; already packed full of men who you didn’t want to spend time with. You turned desperately to your boyfriend one last time and he pressed a kiss to your forehead. “Danny, please.”

“You’ll be back before you know it.” He whispered.“Max even saved you a seat.”

You let out a sigh and climbed onto the bus, plonking yourself down beside your teammate. One of the pit crew boys gave your bicep a friendly squeeze and you looked back at him.

“You’ll have the best time, y/n.” He smiled. “We’ll make sure of it.”

“It’s not you boys that I’m worried about.” You chuckled, giving him a forced smile - you got on so well with your pit crew, they were all such nice boys.

“He’ll have to get over himself.” Another one of them spoke up. “We’re gonna have a great weekend!”

The bus started and the boys were so loud and rambunctious, usually you got on better with boys but a whole weekend stuck in a forest with about 30 of them? Brain, add murder Christian Horner to my to do list.

Max draped an arm over your shoulder and gave you a friendly squeeze, he could sense your uneasiness - you were at least grateful that he was here… and maybe you’d have an opportunity to talk to Pierre. You let your gaze fall upon the Frenchman, he was sitting beside Yuki with his headphones on and his eyes shut, head resting back against the headrest. His fingers were tapping against the tray table in front of him.

You still hadn’t had the time to thank him for what he did for you and Dan - he didn’t even know that you knew. Yuki grinned at you and offered you a little Japanese candy that he’d brought from home.

“Thanks Yuki.” You hummed. “These look good. Are you looking forward to the weekend?”

“Yeah! I love to camp, I used to go out with my family during the summer. Never with this many people though.” He grinned, cute. “I can show you how to start a fire! And what berries you can eat!”

Yuki’s ramblings caught Pierre’s attention, he moved his headphones behind one of his ears so he could listen to his teammate. He smiled fondly.

“I’d like that…. How about you, Pierre?” You asked, eyes meeting the Frenchman’s. “Are you looking forward to it?”

“I think so. It’ll be nice to get away from it all, get some fresh air. Y’know?” His voice was soft, it was always so calming to you. “And I get to spend time with this little legend, aye!”

He took Yuki in a headlock and ruffled up his hair, so fond of his teammate. You giggled softly and you saw Pierre’s lips curl into a slight smile.

“We can… if we get time, you and I can have a talk if you want? I have some stuff I wanna say. Not bad stuff though.”

“…I’d like that.” He sounded cautious but optimistic, giving you a kind smile.

After about another hour, your bus pulled into the campsite - there was a man dressed in full park ranger garb waiting eagerly to greet you all as you got off the bus and grabbed your backs.

“Howdy y’all! Welcome to the retreat!”

“Did he just say howdy y’all unironically?” Pierre whispered, making you elbow him playfully in the side.

“Behave.”

“If y’all would follow me, I’ll take you to the fine piece of land you’ll be spending the next couple days.” His accent was so thick, it almost sounded more fake than Dan’s Texas drawl.

The large group was led into a large clearing, where piles of tent equipment were laid on the ground unbuilt. You all quickly realised that you weren’t getting a tent each.

“Now, I need y’all in groups of 5 to build the tents. Now, your boss Mr Horner has sent me these groups already.”

As he read out names and people began to separate off into their groups, you realised who you’d be sharing a tent with and it made you want to find the nearest bear trap and stick your neck in it.

“And last but not least, the drivers’ tent! Max, y/n, Pierre, Yuki and Alex… Mr Horner was very insistent on this one. Now, get to work, there’s instructions but I hope you won’t need them.”

You grabbed the instructions off of the floor and scanned them but Alex wasn’t having any of it, he immediately started trying to shove poles together that didn’t belong. “Alex, give me a minute to read.”

“I know how to put together a fucking tent.” He grumbled, trying to screw two of the same poles together. “Just let me do this.”

You rolled your eyes and the other boys peered over your shoulders to look at the paper before getting to work putting the right pieces together. Pierre held his hand out towards Alex. “Mate, I need that bit.”

“Fuck off, traitor.”

“Jesus fucking Christ, Alex.” The Frenchman swore, narrowing his eyes. “I’m just trying to make a tent, don’t make this about Texas.”

“Of course I’m gonna make this about Texas! You went behind my back, Pierre.”

All attention was drawn towards your group as the two men started to yell. Even the ranger had a peaked interest. “I wasn’t going to let you ruin a relationship that had nothing to do with you! Just fucking get over yourself and grow up. I’ve moved on, y/n has moved on.”

Alex narrowed his eyes at him before letting his eyes fall over you, you even noticed them soften slightly. Oh my god. This wasn’t about you… this was about Dan.

“Alex… did Dan say something to you?” You asked softly.

His jaw clenched a little. “No. Look, y/n, I just don’t like Dan for you and I don’t appreciate either of rubbing the relationship in everyone’s face like that… you deserve someone like Pierre or me who-“

Smack.

The sound of your hand against his cheek echoed through the woods. He cursed. “Fuck.”

“How fucking dare you. You think you deserve me? After all the fucking shit you’ve said about me on TV? After you tried to break up my relationship with a cheating scandal?” An angry tear rolled down your cheek, your hands shaking, your palm sticking from the contact. “Alex… why… fuck… why can none of you just be happy for me?”

He looked almost shell shocked. Max put a hand on your shoulder but you shrugged it off - it was tiring having to defend your relationship to people who didn’t deserve an opinion. You stepped away from the group and walked down towards the lake, the leaves crunching under your boots.

You sat down on a log and rested your head in your hands, sobbing loud - your whole body shaking. All you wanted was to enjoy being in love with the man of your dreams but it always seemed like someone was out there trying to fight against it. You’d waited almost your entire life to end up with Dan but it felt like a nightmare.

The log shifted slightly as someone sat down beside you. “Leave me alone, Pierre.”

He sighed softly and draped an arm over your shoulder, pulling you into his side. “…I’m so sorry for making you feel this way. I told you I wanted you to be happy and I meant it.”

“I know.” You whispered, looking up at him from your hands. “Dan told me what you did for us, thank you.”

“You’re one of my closest friends; I treated you poorly and I told you that I need to make it up to you. Alex will get over himself.”

“But he doesn’t have to try and use the media to try and destroy me, my career, my relationship… I want him to just leave me alone.” Your voice cracked. “I… for the first time in my life Pierre, I thought I could truly be happy.”

“You can. You will be.” He looked out over the lake in front of you. “By the end of the year you’ll be holding a 3rd place championship trophy above your head and then you’ll get to go home to Australia with the man of your dreams. Then next year you’ll win the fucking title, Alex will be nothing but an inconvenience at the back of the grid.”

You lent into his side and sighed shakily. “Just want to be left alone. I thought it’d be the media tearing me down, not people from my personal life.”

He looked down at you and gave you a gentle squeeze, you could tell he felt guilty - having played his part in you feeling this way. “I know. I’m sorry…”

Both of you turned to look behind you at the sound of leaves crunching, the retreat ranger approaching cautiously. “You folks alright? We’re just about to start the first activity and don’t want you missing out.”

“Sorry, we’re coming.” You stood up and brushed yourself down, the younger driver following you back up towards the campsite - your tent now fully constructed.

Alex opened his mouth to say something but Max elbowed him and shook his head. You stood beside Yuki and whispered. “What’s the activity?”

“We have to make a boat out of cardboard and tape and then race them across the lake.” He grinned, so excited.

“…seriously?”

“Easy right! Now, follow me.”

The ranger led you back down to the lake but into a wide clearing - on the floor were piles of cardboard and rolls of tape. You really wished you were here with literally anyone else, this would be a laugh with Dan and Lando, but instead you were stuck here with Alex. You were instructed to start and you immediately started wrapping a base with tape to make it waterproof - the boys got the idea and followed suit, constricting an almost canoe shaped boat, you only had to fit three of you in for the race.

“That’s surely not gonna work.” You grumbled, giving the structure a wobble. “It’ll just sink as soon as you put someone in it.”

“I have faith in your work.” Alex said cautiously, not making eye contact though. “I’ll volunteer to take it out on the water.”

“Me too.” Pierre spoke up. It almost made you want to roll your eyes that they thought their willingness to potentially fall in the lake was worth your forgiveness but you weren’t going to discourage them, you didn’t want to do it.

“I’ll go as well, it looks fun!” Yuki beamed, fist bumping his teammate. You could see Max physically relax knowing he didn’t have to go out either.

The Dutchman helped you carry the boat down to the water’s edge and push it into the water after the three of them had sat in it. “Wow, it didn’t sink immediately. Good luck boys.”

The ranger blew his whistle and the teams all began splashing their hands in the water like oars in order to move their creations. One of the pit crew teams immediately fell into the water and another tipped over.

“…I’m not sure I’m gonna last the rest of this weekend.” You said to Max, looking to your left at him.

“You’ll be okay. I had a word with Alex and basically if he tries anything I will bury him and we’ll leave him here.”

“Thanks Max.” You gave him a side hug and he draped an arm across your shoulders. “You’re a good friend.”

“Am I your best friend?” He quirked a playful brow at you.

“I already told you that you’re one of my best friends. I couldn’t pick between you and Lando. But thanks for always having my back, yeah?”

“I told you back at the start of the season, we’re a team. I’ve always got you. If Dan hadn’t punched Pierre or you hadn’t slapped Alex, I was next in line to do it.”

You heard cheers in the distance, so you glanced over the lake to see your team standing on the island in the middle of the lake, waving at you. “Hey, they did it.”

You clapped for them… you couldn’t wait for this weekend to be over.

**********************************************

Next Part >>

Message me or leave a comment to be added to the tag list :)

@loliismartios @lharrietg @paprikabadger @baueoud @breadsquash @lovebynorth @inconspicuousindo @abysshaven @stelena-klayley @picturethosesmiles @shes-unwell-babe @haterpenny @idkiwantchocolatee @savannah-elliott @sabsi2222 @art-outlaw @sahvlren @mp0625 @marianadj99

And my wonderful proofreader @reidslefteyebrow

[gra-sonas]

So just wanted to tell you how cute I found your answer to an ask where you asked are you a terrible Alex fan if you wanna see him hurt. To me that is usually a reason why I watch a TV show cause I just love the hurt/comfort storylines 😅 To this day I think one of my most favourite Teen Wolf episodes is Motel California cause that scene where Stiles is possessed and is trying to hurt himself is just pure perfection. This is one of those emotional whumps that I love. I kinda think those scenes really show how good of an actor someone is. So yeah to me you're not terrible for wanting some hurt and comfort with his OTP after that 🥰 But maybe I am weird so I'm not a representative person to judge 😅

Haha, thank you, nonnie! 🥰 [Sorry that it took so long to answer, but this turned out longer than intended and... uhm... see for yourself? 😳]

I'm usually a huge fan of the hurt/comfort trope (my favorite Sterek fic is the most perfect h/c fic ever), but it pains me (ha!) to think about Alex or Michael getting hurt in any way. 🥺 I want them to have nice things, wrap them in fluffy blankets in front of a cozy fire and feed them hot chocolate.

I think I handle h/c better in fic, bc it all only happens in my head, but seeing Alex or Michael hurt on screen? 😱

Like... [h/c ficlet, blood cw, implied temporary almost!character death, NO ONE DIES]

Michael is sobbing in agony because Alex is bleeding from a chest wound he just can't stop from spilling fresh blood. Alex goes limp in Michael's arms, and he can barely hear Alex breathe any longer.

Michael frantically presses his hand on Alex's wet chest in a poor attempt to apply pressure, but the blood continues to seep into the fabric of Alex's jacket and turns it an ugly shade of dark copper.

Michael is so desperate, he's whispering Alex's name over and over, calling him every endearment under the sun just to get a reaction from him but Alex can't hear him because he's already unconscious. Or worse.

Michael kisses Alex's clammy lips and whispers "I love you, please, Alex, don't leave me. I don't want to live without you. I can't!"

Michael tries to think of something. Anything to save Alex, tears are spilling from his eyes and he can barely see when—

Suddenly, he knows with absolute clarity what to do. He fumbles with his free hand to open the buttons of Alex's bloody jacket before he hits the next barrier. He tears the shirt Alex is wearing to shreds with a single thought and looks at Alex's bloody chest in an attempt to locate the wound. To no avail.

Without further thinking he places his left hand - the one Jesse Manes mangled, the one that Max healed, the one Michael's kept hidden from the world (and his own eyes) for more than two years under greasy bandanas, the one Alex kissed so tenderly when he took the bandana off for good just last night - on Alex's chest, ignores how slippery the blood makes everything, closes his eyes, and then—

His hand starts getting warm. And warmer. It's getting hot, he blinks his eyes open, and his hand is glowing a deep and pulsing red.

Not a second to waste, Michael pushes with everything he has, every ounce of love he feels for Alex, begging for all the stars to align, and the universe to aid him in his quest to save the person he loves more than life itself. He's screaming now, desperate to push Alex away from the brink of death.

He has no idea how long it takes, but suddenly he feels Alex stir in his arms, he's taking a deep gasping breath, he opens his eyes and stares at Michael. "What?"

Michael collapses and falls on his back, pulling Alex with him into the safety of his embrace. He feels like he's about to vomit, but after a few deep breaths, the nausea caused by the overuse of his powers is manageable. Alex struggles against his tight grip.

"Michael? Michael, what's going on? Are you okay? And why is my chest wet?"

"Gimme a second," Michael mumbles. Alex turns in his arms until he faces Michael.

"Michael, have I been shot?"

Michael nods, which isn't a good idea because another wave of nausea hits him.

"And you healed me? Or was it a resurrection?"

"Not sure, you stopped breathing," Michael mumbles. He squeezes his eyes shut before he tries talking again. "Nail polish remover. Backpack," he gets out before he has to stop. The back of his throat tastes like bile.

Alex scrambles to get up on his knees. He looks around and sees the backpack Michael dropped on a nearby chair. He stretches to reach one of the backpack straps and pulls. The backpack topples over and falls down on the floor. Alex drags it across the floor until he can reach inside. He pulls a bottle of nail polish remover out, uncaps it, and turns around to Michael.

He holds the bottle softly pressed against Michael's lips until he's able to take a couple of carefully measured sips. About five minutes later, he's feeling a little less peckish, and he's able to tell Alex what's happened. They are lying on the floor again, facing each other and holding hands.

When Michael's finished, Alex looks down at his chest. "This is incredible, Michael. I don't feel any different than before. Only that my shirt is kind of glued to my chest hair in places. But other than that, there's no pain, nothing," he says, in awe of Michael's new ability.

He leans forward to press his lips against Michael's in a tender kiss. "I also feel you," he whispers. "It's like you're a part of me. It's this golden presence, I don't know how better to describe it."

Michael smiles at him. "I love that. According to Max, I should also be able to share memories with you. I'm just not sure if that uses up more power, and I'm still feeling pretty weak."

Alex captures Michaels stubbly cheek in his hand. "There's no rush, baby. Let's go home when you can walk again. And then we have a lifetime together to explore everything we can do with this new ability and you leaving handprints on me."

"Home and a lifetime together with you? That's all I've ever wanted, Alex."

Alex winks at him. "I know."

"A lifetime of Star Wars references sounds like heaven to me," Michael chuckles. "Let's go home, Chewie."

[sunjaesol]

we’re dancing under the rain

canon compliant juke | fluff! | inspiration: rain // ben platt

Julie wondered if one day, she could stop loving. Because damn - it hurt. It hurt to love so much and continuously have her heart be broken. Love and heartache cycled through her life like a never ending train and the girl was in a constant battle of wanting to shut down or give it another chance. 

She always chose the latter, obviously, but that hurt too. The price she needed to pay to have such meaningful friendships. If she didn’t, she wouldn’t have become a family with a trio of ghosts and an adjacent skater ghost. The problem of caring so much was when the heart got involved, when that heart beat a second too fast, too willingly, too adoringly. 

It made her vulnerable, her heart jumping out of her chest to sync with the other person and then getting crushed instead. This time, it cut her particulary deep. 

Nick broke up with her. 

A puffy-eyed Julie sat huddled in the studio under a blanket. He did it during lunch. All of a sudden, he pulled her aside into the hallway, told her they didn’t quite fit together and that it was better if they broke up. He pretended like she had a say in it, though it was clear he already made up his mind. Which was even worse, Julie found. Nick had thought about it before, probably more than once. His words made her feel like a fool. There she was, thinking their relationship was going smooth, getting squashed a minute after that: no, actually, it’s not going smoothly and you’re probably in denial so let’s end it now.

Later, she’d probably thank him for ripping the band-aid. She was now allowed to be heartbroken.    

Outside, rain was slamming against the pavement. That was the only good thing about the situation; the weather deciding to match her mood and mourn with her.

Luke poofed in with his signature grin, lips shaping to blurt out a story and then crashing into a frown when he saw the state she was in. 

“Jules?”

Wordlessly, she covered her tear-stained cheeks with the blanket. She hated it when people - especially Luke - caught her at her lowest. The boys were dead, she couldn't really complain about minor inconveniences when the only reason they were breathing was out of habit. 

The couch dipped at her feet. A careful hand patted her calf. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing,” she mumbled. 

“Yes, cause that’s what I do when nothing’s wrong.” His voice was light, though a keen ear like hers could sense the hint of concern. “I cry.”

Julie huffed, pulling the blanket back to scowl at him. “Nick broke up with me. But it’s whatever because it clearly wasn’t as big of a deal to him as it was to me, so-” Shrugging, she sat upright and wiped her runny nose with the sleeve of her sweater. “It is nothing.”

Her fingers combed through her hair, trying to relieve the heat bugging her skin. God, she just wanted this day to be over with. She didn’t want to rehearse and do homework and eat dinner and pretend everything was dandy. She just wanted to cry and sleep and not have Luke’s stupidly green eyes drown in pity. 

“That sucks though,” he whispered. “I’m so sorry.”

Her lips rolled inwards, a smile forming despite her mood. “Not your fault.” Their gazes met. It felt new, somehow. “My heart is just… too open, I guess.”

Luke tapped her calf again, mirth lilting his tone. “Still not a bad thing. It was cool in the 90s and it’s cool now. He’s an idiot for not going crazy over it.”

“My open heart?”, she chuckled. 

“Yeah.” A beat. His eyes haven’t wavered. “Or you. In general.”

The smile bloomed to a full grin, a sliver of levity easing the ache in her chest. Why did he always know what to say? Granted, he used to be horrible at cheering her up, when she was fifteen and sadness lingered in her every move, but he got the hang of it after two years. A reassuring kiss on her temple before a stressful gig, a particularly uplifting speech during band circle, a new tune he came up with when he knew she didn’t feel like talking. Her teenage girl melodrama unfazed him. 

Luke met her halfway for a tight hug. It was the most comfortable place to be; her cheek on his shoulder and his arms holding her so securely and how, after all they’ve been through, his 90s cologne smelled like home. 

“Thank you,” she mumbled. “Some ghost girl is going to be so happy you’ve had practise dealing with me.”

He snorted. “Ah, yes. My harem of ghost girls. The, uh, market is really big for me.”

It wasn’t something they often discussed. It became clear that the boys weren’t going to cross over any time soon (if crossing over was even a thing, or the thing they thought it would be) and had time to settle into a long afterlife. Willie had been wandering around since the seventies and only now found Alex, so who knew how long Luke and Reggie would have to wait until they met their ghost-mate. It was a sad thought, but at least they had each other and music and the band. 

There was also the minor problem that Luke sometimes had this look on his face, usually fixed on her, that left little to the interpretation. It hasn’t happened in a while, but every so often…

It kind of made her breathless. Whatever. It was dumb. Those feelings have long been buried. The point was that he should look at ghost girls like that - not her.   

(A month after The Orpheum, they sat side by side behind the grand piano as they belted out a new song they’ve been working on, her fingers expertly gliding across the keys and slamming on those that needed that extra power. Julie was fully entranced, head thrown back and smiling through the lyrics as their voices reached a beautiful harmony no one could compete with. The last note drifted across the studio. When she turned to look at him, she expected to see the same grin. Instead, Luke gave her such a tender look, close, and let his doe eyes wander past her nose. Had Reggie not poofed in, she didn’t know if she would’ve had the restraint to not give in. To not be selfish. It was years ago, but she thought about it each time he joined her at the piano. It was the price for friendship, Julie often reminded herself. For an eternal bond.) 

Rain kept drumming into the ground. It sounded like a million ping pong balls fell onto the roof at an incredible speed. 

Luke pulled away and shot a look outside. “Damn.”

“Yeah,” Julie nodded. “I made a deal with God today. If I cry, the world does too.”

He rolled his eyes. “Dramatic.”

The smile stuck to her cheeks. Luke only needed a few minutes to lift her spirits. Tears didn’t even well up anymore. Was that bad? That one the same day, just in the afternoon, she already felt a bit better? She decided to not mull on the why.

“Wanna dance in the rain?”

She blinked. “What?”

He matched her smile, throwing his thumb at the doors. “Do you wanna dance in the rain?”

It was as if her brain wasn’t processing his words. “What? Why?”

“Why not?”, he shrugged. “You feel like shit, it never rains in LA and it’s fun.”

Quiet excitement coursed through her veins, the thrill pushing energy back in her bloodstream. Why not? The expectant twinkle in his eye brought colour to her face, jumping off the couch pulling him up with her. His whooping got her to laugh. It almost surprised her; she hasn’t properly laughed at all today. 

They each pulled one sliding door open, their ears instantly bombarded with noise. It was the hardest downpour of the year! 

“No running for cover!”, he yelled above the loud rushing of rain.     

She stuck her pinky out. “Only if you won’t!”  

And then they stepped in the rain. They were drenched straight away, a squeal erupting from her lips as the coldness crept between her clothes. He laughed, raking his hair back and leaping into a puddle. Water splashed around him. 

His voice bellowed through the sound. “C’mon!”

It spurred her into action, his laugh replaying in her head over and over again, as her head lolled back and began to twirl in circles. Faster and faster, giggles tumbling out as felt herself becoming one with the rain. This was exactly what she needed. A moment of silliness and unconditional joy! 

Luke was dancing like a maniac next to her, feet kicking and arms outstretched. She found herself staring at his profile, how bliss broke the lines in his face and caused a crescendo of glee to overcome him. It was mesmerising. Julie found herself slowing down, taken aback by the hope rising in her chest at the mere sight of him. 

What she hoped for, she didn’t know. (She did. She just couldn’t admit it just yet.) 

As if sensing her thoughts, Luke caught her eye with and yanked her into the dance without a second of hesitation. They spun around, hands intertwined and arms outstretched, daring to see how long they could keep going before one dropped from dizziness. Julie wasn’t afraid though. Luke would never let her fall. 

They let go just as they were losing balance, snickering like fools and trying to find footing again. Julie jumped onto his back, him instantly jostling her around until she got chucked off like a sack of potatoes. Each grin and laugh and crack of thunder mended her heart, slipping the pieces back together and allowing it to bloom once more. Keep on breaking, keep on loving, keep on hoping, keep on hoping for-

Luke locked his hands around the small of her back. “Ready?!”

He didn’t have to ask twice, their steps speeding up as she threw her arms beside her and then, at their fastest, pulled one leg up to swing in his hold. How she didn’t slip on the soaking wet ground was a miracle. 

Julie’s smile rivalled his, grabbing onto the lapels of his shacket to get him closer. He had something else in mind, hands slipping to her waist and launching her in the sky in one fluid motion. It took her breath away, quickly grabbing onto his shoulders and yelling her lungs out. It was just like in her dreams. Was it selfish of her to have yearned for this? 

(She felt it. The way her heart washed away all the troubles, how the numbing cold shrivelled to make place for someone else.)   

They shouted exclaims and curses into the rain. About Nick, about music, about each other, about how fucking unfair life could be, but damn - moments like these were worth the pain.  

Her drenched curls tickled his face, causing him to sputter and attract her focus. Julie looked down at him and didn’t stop the heartstopping smile growing on her face. Oh. 

Her fingers swiped against the planes of his cheeks, his grin beaming up at her and letting the dormant wildfire (snug between her ribs, among the flowers and the lyrics) come alive again. For so long, she hasn’t allowed herself to feel it. But how could she not when Luke propelled her into the storm itself, unify them like the whirlwind of passion they authentically were? 

They were the thunder and the lightning, the silver lining and the punch line - the dancers in the rain. 

He gently set her down, feet splashing. She didn’t let him pull away, instantly wrapping her arms around his waist and pressing her face into his wet shirt. They smelled like wet dogs and it was better than any perfume she’s ever had. 

“Thank you,” she whispered. 

His head settled on top of hers, cool breath fanning her skin. “I can’t have you down in the gutter, Jules. Ever.”

I love you. “Ever?”

She felt him move, her eyes tilting to meet his. That expression she cherished deeply returned tenfold. His tender smile, the green hooded by shy eyes, an incredulous hitch of the breath. 

Luke nodded, flitting gaze as if he didn’t quite know what to focus on, and carefully brushed a droplet from her cheek. “Ever.” 

(Julie got a cold the next day. It didn’t matter - she had the boy of her dreams to keep her company.) 

Breathe deep, let it wash over you We're slowly becoming lovers I promise you we won't be like the others We won't go running for cover

@blush-and-books​ @bluefirewrites​ @willexx​ @unsaid-emily​ @ourstarscollided​ @sophiphi​ @unsaidjulie​

[pagingevilspawn]

Loving You Is A Losing Game - chapter ten

wc: 3k

pairing: Alex Karev/Jo Wilson, Alex Karev/Izzie Stevens (mentioned), Jo Wilson/Paul Stadler (mentioned)

chapter summary: alex and jo have an argument.

rating: teen audiences and up.

chapter category: angst. hurt/comfort.

warnings: implied sex, cheating on spouse/adultery, guilt, crying, yelling, implied/referenced domestic abuse, language.

A/N: this is terrible. majority of it was written six months ago, but i don't have the effort to re-write 2000 words. i'm going to be wrapping this up in a few chapters. my personal life is very hectic right now, so i don't know when that will be, but this series is going to be coming to an end in about four or so chapters. hope you enjoy!

____

~*~

"giving us up didn't take a lot, i saw the end 'fore it began"

~*~

six months. six months since that conference in boston.

five months. five months since they saw each other again.

in the six months they'd known each other, they'd spent three weekends together. the current one being the fourth. alex and jo lay in bed together as they’d done so many times before, his fingers running up and down his arm while she drew circles on his chest. this had become normal; a habit. being with each other was so completely and utterly normal.

how wrong was that? the fact that they felt more normal with each other than they ever had with anyone else in their life. how wrong was it that they were cheating, but yet it managed to feel normal. being with each other somehow managed to feel so right.

except now things weren't the same as it had been four months ago. four months ago, they craved the touch of each other, the ability to make one another feel something.

now they didn't just crave the touch.

it was torture to be away from her. he longed for her; her skin, her scent, her lips. he longed for her touch, her words, her slender fingers, her mind. he wanted it, every second of every day he wanted it. but no matter how much he wanted it, she wasn’t his to have.

she missed him. she missed him while lying on the sofa, while sitting in class. his hands, his secure hold, his witty brain, his skillful lips, the movements of his fingers as they twirled with her hair. she missed him. it was such a messed up situation that they had put themselves in, but no matter how much space he took up in her mind, he wasn’t her’s to have.

the saturday afternoon sun trickled in through the sheer white curtains, the orange glow gleaming against their skin. it was so sound, so serene, as if nothing could go wrong if they stayed like this. in all honesty, they wished they could.

the sound of a text tone going off momentarily pops their bubble, jo letting out a groan of protest as she recognizes the beep as her's. she begrudgingly untangles herself from alex's hold, immediately missing the warmth it provided. she fishes her phone out of the bottom of her bag, small smile on her face as she can feel his eyes on her backside. the smile leaves her face once she sees his name on the screen.

Paul: Going to be a day late. I'll be back on Monday.

Brooke: okay. hope everything is good up there

whatever bubble they had preserved was now destroyed; the guilt of everything they were doing finally catching up to her in one swift motion, like a tidal wave unexpectedly crashing on shore. alex notices the change of atmosphere in the room as jo stands at the foot of the bed, a look he can't recognize splayed across her delicate features. he sends her a questioning glance, which she only responds by setting her eyes downcast, focusing on the floor as if it were the only thing in the room.

the silence in the air is heavy, the usual comfort that it usually held was gone. it hadn't been like this for them in months, not since waking up next to each other for the first time and not knowing who the person they spent the night with was.

jo sighs, shaking her head as she begins to pace the room, stopping in front of the window and looking back at him. "we can't keep doing this." she whispers, her voice breaking halfway through.

alex throws his head back onto the pillow, closing his eyes and running a hand down his face as he lets out a breath slowly. "i know." he speaks softly.

jo feels anger rise up inside of her, not sure if it was directed at herself or the man on the bed. "really?!" she shouts, "do you know alex? do you know!" she throws her hands around , nearly knocking the glass off the small table in the process.

the man sits up from his position on the bed, thankful that he still had his boxers on. "you think i don't know jo?" he asks, dumbfounded at her words, brow furrowing in confusion.

"i'm cheating on my husband!" she yells, trying to stop her eyes from watering, to no avail. she knows he knew how wrong this was. how wrong all of it was. why hadn't they stopped? why had they even started to begin with?

"and i'm cheating on my wife!" he argues back, studying her as she looks down at her feet, avoiding eye contact as she turns the curtain fabric beneath her fingers, biting her bottom lip in a worthless attempt to prevent it from wobbling.

she lets a few beats pass, a lone tear sliding down her cheek. "i know." she whispers dejectedly, watching as the people below carried on with their days. she stared as couples held each other's hands while walking across the street, mothers pushed small children in bulky strollers down crowded sidewalks. dads carried their sons on their shoulders, providing them a sense of security along with feeling like they were on top of the world. elderly couples gave each other adoring looks, ones that hadn't faded no matter how many years they had spent together. all of them were oblivious to the turmoil occurring a few stories above them in room four twenty six. everyone on the concrete streets was happy. they were okay.

why couldn't they be like that? why couldn't they be normal? why couldn't they have simply avoided their desires that night?

why, why, why.

alex appears behind her, pushing back the other curtain to look at the view she was seeing.  they were all so carefree. they didn't know what it was like to have this boulder of guilt hanging over them every second of every day, one subtle movement threatening to tip it over the edge and crush everything beneath it.

he sighs. "i know exactly what it's like jo." she takes her hand in his, her thumb beginning to rub back and forth over his knuckles, something she had learned calmed her down. his touch always seemed to relax her. it was something she could melt into, like the safety of falling backwards, knowing that she'd be caught before she hit the ground.

she looks at him, tearing her eyes away from the calming scene underneath them. "why can't we just stop?" she asks him, her eyes staring at him like he held all the answers she wished to receive.

"i don't know." he answers honestly, not having the heart to look at her, focusing his attention on the business man shuffling through the crowd, talking on his cell phone while simultaneously trying to keep his briefcase from hitting the others around him.

but they both did know. they couldn't stop because of their feelings. it had stopped being just sex a long time ago. stupid, god damn feelings.

they knew it was there. the flutters in their stomach when the other person laughed, the constant need to have their hands on each other, not to mention, how much it pained them to be away from one another. that wasn't how it was supposed to be. you weren't supposed to have these feelings for someone you were sleeping with. it was supposed to be just sex. simple, goddamn amazing sex and nothing more.

they were falling, falling into dangerous territory. they were falling where there should be a safe place for them to land, but rather instead, waiting for them was a pit of roses with jagged thorns that would cut their skin and tear them apart, ripping them and bleeding until scars covered their bodies to the point they could no longer tell who they were. they were playing with fire, it was only a matter of time before they got burned.

"we need to stop this." she whispers again, making him finally meet her gaze before he turns away again.

alex flutters his eyes shut, leaning his forehead against the cool glass window. "we do." he sighs, angling his head so he could look at her. "but do we really want to?" his eyes bore into hers so intensely she couldn't look away, no matter how hard she tried. they weren't sure who the question was directed to more, him or her.

she knew she needed to stop. she needed to stop betraying her vows. she needed to stop being unfaithful to her husband; she needed to. but when she was with alex, she was free. she could talk about whatever she wanted, she didn't need to try to impress him. she was able to be herself. she was able to feel good about herself around him.

her bottom lip wobbles as she shakes her head from side to side, shutting her eyes tightly, a desperate attempt to not let the tears escape. "no." she lets out a sob, slapping a hand over her mouth to stop her cries from becoming too loud. tears streamed down her face, a mix of anger, guilt, and sorrow made up the salty liquid. but underneath it was relief, relief that she had finally admitted to herself and to alex that she wanted this. "goddamn it, i don't wanna stop."  she lets the words tumble out of her mouth as she gnaws on her bottom lip. she looks up at him, pleading that he felt that same way, hoping that she wasn't making something up in her head.

alex pulls her in by the side, not noticing how she ever so slightly winces, placing a soft kiss on the top of her head, an act so tender he hardly ever did it for anyone but her. "i don't wanna stop either jo," he whispers softly into her locks of brown keeping his chin rested on her head as he moves behind her, holding her from the back, securing his arms around her waist and clasping her fidgety hands in his. he rubs soothing patterns over her knuckles, causing her to lean back into him, her figure molding into his perfectly. she breathed out a sigh of relief, relaxing at his gentle, safe touch. she missed a lot of things about alex when they were away from each other, but his touch was always the thing she longed for the most, and not just his touch under the covers. she missed what he was doing right now; how he would draw patterns on her hips, or wrap an arm around him as she leaned into his side as they lay in bed, laughing at whatever played on the TV. she missed how he would rub soothing circles over the tight spots on her neck, just harshly enough to soothe the dull ache that sat there, but not hard enough to hurt. she missed the simple acts of tenderness that he would do without even realizing it.

what he always missed about jo was her eyes. they were what drew him in the first time he saw her, the thing that made him unable to break his stare, no matter how hard he tried. he couldn't figure out what color they were, even after a countless number of hours staring directly into them. were they golden or hazel? green or brown? he didn't know, because in the dark they looked hazel with flecks of gold, but in the light they looked like pools of honey that sparkled as if they were under the stars. her eyes always gave her thoughts away. fear, worry, happiness; her eyes told him it all. he practically felt dizzy every time she would look up at him through hooded eyelids, messy hair framing her face in a way that just seemed to make her even more beautiful. he could never say no to her eyes.

"we'll be okay," he reassures her.

she lets out a long breath, sinking even more into him, comforted by the familiar smell that she couldn't get enough of.  "we'll be okay."

____

water cascaded down her body, washing off the suds and circling down the drain, makeup stained water collecting at the bottom and disappearing down the pipes. she felt disgusted by herself, a myriad of careful covered, faded bruises littering her abdomen and sides. makeup was the only way alex hadn’t been able to discover her secret, since he never held a tight hold on her, his touches always soft and gentle.

she’d had to cancel their meetings three times, coming up with different excuses on every occasion he asked. i have the stomach bug. paul’s dad cancelled their get together, he’s staying home this week. too big of a test coming up to not spend every second studying. he never batted an eyelash, because why would he? they were trying—trying so hard to keep what they were doing under wraps, in order to continue. so if that meant cancelling, he wasn’t going to complain, as long as he knew that he was going to get to see her again.

she didn’t want to know what would happen if he knew the real reason she was calling off his visits, nor did she ever want to ever find out. he was a protective guy, and learning about what his dad had done to him and his siblings when he was younger was sure to bring up buried memories that he had worked so hard to overcome.

with a sigh she scrubs the shampoo out of her hair, closing her eyes and resting her head against the cool tile of the shower’s walls .  she traces the bruises with her fingers, relieved when they don’t make her cry out in pain. it had been a few days after all, giving her time to heal.

it was getting better. she knew now what made him mad, and how to avoid the contact of his fists. she knew not to overcook the chicken, she knew not to ever start eating before him, and she knew that he liked to have the house spotless by the time he got home. he worked on his feet so long every day that all he really wanted once he got home was to see his wife and arrive to a clean house and a good dinner. it was getting better.

(it wasn’t really, because it seemed as if every time she learned not to do something that set him off, another thing seemed to pop in that angered him. a never ending cycle is what is was, but she still believed that someday it was all going to be okay)

she rinses the last of the conditioner out of her hair, turning off the water and listening to the soft hums of the TV play through from the other room.

she takes her time, a ritual alex hasn’t questioned by now. she uses the blow dryer as an excuse, when she’s really using foundation to carefully cover the discolorations on her skin. alex’s laugh causes her to lift her head up, worried that he would come into the room, but she relaxes when she doesn’t hear footsteps padding towards the door.

letting herself smile, she revels in it; the moments of peace brought by these hotel rooms. at home she had to worry about the time she left for school, the appearance of the house, and what sort of mood her husband would be in when he got home. here, her biggest worries were whether or not alex forgot to order food for them.

when she's fully covered (hair done to not raise any suspicions) she enters the room once more, watching from the doorway as alex laughs at another thing on the screen.

she casts a glance to the table that sat to the right of their bed, she feels her heart drop, another wave of guilt washing over her.

their opposing rings sat there, off of their fingers and discarded safely onto the side table; a way to distance themselves from the true reality of what they were doing. her ring was silver. his was gold.

they only had another hour or so before they would have to leave, back to their homes and the people they truly belonged to. she lays next to him, leaning her head on his chest when he pulls her in.

“remember,” he starts, his voice muffled thanks to his lips being in her hair. “whenever you want to stop, we’ll stop.”

she nods. “and whenever you want to stop, we’ll stop.”

he places another kiss on the crown of her head, turning his attention back to the sitcom playing on the TV. they had discussed a while back, that once what they were doing got to be too much, all they needed to do was say so and it would be over with, no questions asked.

he had it bad for her. he lo— needed her. but if she ever chose to end this, go back to being the faithful wife she was while a ring still sat on her finger, he wouldn’t hold her back, he would never wish to cause her pain.

she had it bad for him. she lo—needed him. but if he ever chose to end this, go back to being the faithful husband he was while a ring still sat on his finger, she wouldn’t hold him back, she would never wish to cause him pain.

they had each other, but at the same time they didn’t; they couldn’t. because once the weekend was over they would go back to the lives they actually lived, no longer in a fantasy bubble they had created to pull themselves away from the outside world; the real world.

in the hotel rooms, they could live in a world where they were the only two that existed, nothing in the way of being with each other the way they wanted to.

their holds on each other tighten, and only one thing is going through the both of their minds, a silent mantra that helps get them through.

they'll be okay.

(but will they?)

[halfway-happyyy]

I'm a day late, but 'New Year’s Day’ by Taylor Swift never ceases to make feel all of the things when I hear it, and that is what this short piece is inspired by.

Their spacious apartment is brimming with people tonight. Friends, friends of friends, a scant few family members- not nearly enough to make it feel like home, to make it feel like Stockholm. It's where they usually prefer to spend the thirty-first of December each year- and she is dismayed to find herself longing for it, but this year, the decision to stay tucked away in their borough of the City had been a mutual one.

He has been the heartbeat of the festivities this evening; an assortment of comfort food from Sweden which he spent the last day cooking, and some of her favourite snacks, lay in an array of dishes on the wooden dining room table, which guests peruse at their own leisure. An ancient tabby- one that she had rescued from the dank alleyway behind a bar a couple of years ago, winds its way through tangles of pant-suited and stockinged legs, blissfully oblivious to the raucous that is about to ensue. His yellowed eyes are keen and utterly uncaring, and she longs to follow him to the bedroom at the end of the hall, where she will lay down with him on the bed, her fingers lost in oceans of soft, ginger fur. What she really wants is to wake up hours from now to the notion that her home is void of people again, the first of January- and the rest of the year, laid out before her like a blank canvas.

“You have a beautiful home,” Someone tells her as they pass by on their way to the snack table.

She means to tell them thank you, but they have already moved on to someone else.

Clocking the watch face on the underside of her wrist, she takes note that they are fifteen minutes away from the countdown and a sigh of relief exits her parted lips in the form of a small puff of air. She couldn't be sure when the switch had occurred, but at some point, being around large crowds of people began to deplete her energy in ways she could never have fathomed before. Where she once thrived on the presence of many people, of myriads of conversations, it now exhausted her to every extent.

A pair of arms, warm and utterly familiar in their touch circle her waist and Alexander drops his chin to the curve in her shoulder, his breath fanning out over her neck in warm waves. “Have you eaten anything tonight, kid?”

She smiles and juts her chin toward the laden food table. “I ate my weights worth in toast Skagen about an hour ago.”

“That’s what its there for,” He laughs.

She turns in his embrace and cocks her head to the side, studying his features. There are no readily telltale signs that he misses Sweden as much as she does, but she knows him better than that. “Are you enjoying yourself?” She asks, mildly.

Alexander grins wide and nods his head, his glassy orbs slightly bloodshot and unfocused, the glass clutched in his grasp is a mere sip away from being void of wine completely.

“Can I tell you something?” She asks.

He nods his head.

“You have to come closer though,” She whispers.

Alexander offers her another wide beam, closing the distance between them again and bends his head low so that she can tell him what she needs to say. “I love you, Alex.”

He pulls away from her, a shyness she hasn’t been privy to in years- and a gruff laugh bubbles up from his throat as he circles his arms around her waist again, ever tighter. “I love you too, kid.”

Ten minutes lapse, and she decides at the last minute to head to the balcony to ring in her new year. She loses herself in the noise of the City around her, in the cacophony of other people’s celebrations. Though its loud, it’s nothing compared to the inside of her apartment and she allows herself a deep breath of fresh air. December (or is it January now?) chill stings her cheeks, makes her feel more alive than anything behind her- save for maybe Alexander, ever did. She can hear them inside now- the choir-like chant of a myriad of voices counting down the final seconds of the year. The balcony door opens, and with it a rush of warm air, and Alexander appears beside her, sporting a headband with golden stars on springs that depict the new year, and flop around merrily in the wind. Wordlessly, he adorns her with the same headband and places two glass atop the metal railing.

“It’s almost time, kid.”

He pops a bottle of Veuve Clicquot on five, and pours for them, the distinctive orange label nostalgic to her in every way. She views him in the scattered lighting around them, clad in a crisp, white button-up, black pressed trousers and multi-coloured socks. Taking a sip of the effervescent alcohol, she revels in the tickle of the bubbles on her tongue, and in the slight sting as they slide down her throat and warm in her belly. The muffled notes of one of their guests inebriated version of Auld Lang Syne can be heard through crevices in the windows and door.

“Three… two… one… Happy New Year!”

He reaches for her then, pulls her frame against his and kisses her like it’s the last time he’ll ever have the pleasure. When he breaks away, they are both breathless and grinning.

“Happy new year, kid.” He murmurs.

Another gust of warm air, as someone steps onto the balcony with them, brandishing a polaroid camera. “Smile, you two!”

Doing as he’s told, Alexander slings an arm around her shoulder, pulling her back into the warmth of his chest. They pose for the shot together and she does smile, and it is genuine.

Their home is void of the last straggler around one o’clock in the morning, the only indications that they were there at all, are in the scattered wine glasses, polaroid photos, and confetti littering the hardwood floor- talismans of a night well spent. She knows it all needs to be dealt with, but the hour is nigh, and her bathtub calls out to her like a siren song. Alexander follows her to the washroom down the hall, where nimble fingers work the zipper down her dress, where she sheds the useless material with an inaudible sigh of relief. She gets the tub running while he disposes of his own clothing, and sidles in to the near-scalding water with a very audible sigh of relief.

Alexander settles in a few seconds later, eyes fluttering shut as he sinks into the blissfully warm, sudsy water before her.

They are quiet as they revel in their first few minutes of aloneness and utter silence, and when his eyes fall open again, he is grinning sleepily.

She quirks an eyebrow in question. “What?”

“You have a piece of confetti on your cheek.” He reaches toward her, a dripping finger brushes the shiny piece of plastic away from her face, leaving a miniscule trail of lavender-scented suds in its wake.

They regard each other with an intensity usually only reserved for painfully intimate times, though she reckons it doesn’t get much more intimate than a bubble bath with your lover. Neither of them feel composed to say much- one of things she loves about him (and there are lots) is that the silence never feels imposing.

He reaches for her hand, takes it in his and brings it to his lips, indifferent to the suds that now gather on them.

“I am eternally grateful for you, kid. For our home, for the cantankerous feline that takes up just the right amount of space, for our life together.”

He squeezes her hand thrice beneath the water.

I love you...

Melancholy- caused by the imminent passage of time, had packed ice around her heart all evening, and now, in it’s place, a warmth gleaned from his words and from the tender way he’s looking at her right now, helps to thaw it out. She takes a deep breath and smiles at him, the promise of looming adventures, of boundless laughter to be had with him, warms her heart ever further.

“Happy new year, Alex. I can't wait to see what this year brings us."

[dream-a-little-bigger-x]

Parallels | Chapter 14

Add yourself to my taglist! | Here’s my masterlist! | Parallels Masterlist

Characters: OC! Violet Grace Dawson, Luke Patterson, Julie Molina, Carrie Wilson, Bobby Wilson, Reggie Peters, Alex Mercer, Flynn nolastname, Willie nolastname, Nick Danforth-Evans, Dirty Candy 

Guideline: Sunset Universe is the universe in which Sunset Curve is famous and Violet is friends with Carrie, Julie and Flynn. Candy Universe is the universe in which Dirty Candy is more famous and Sunset Curve has broken up. 

Song(s) used: Somebody - Lemonade Mouth / Finally Free - Julie and the Phantoms

Warnings: The reunion of the Pattersons... 

Words:  6,591

Marcus had been droning on about his day at work on the way back to Violet’s place but she hadn’t heard a word of it. Even in her room, he was still going on and on about his day while Violet zoned out. She’d been all up  in her own mind, thinking about Luke and his story. Right now, she was adamant that this had to be her unfinished business. Not getting Luke to fall in love with her or get him to stop being an asshole, but having him make amends with his parents, especially his mom. 

“So then this older lady comes in between us and –” 

Violet cut Marcus’ story short, “Do you think you can help me write a song?” 

The boy shut his mouth as he looked at the girl in front of him with confusion written in his eyes. “Did you listen to a word I said?” he asked and moved to her bed where she was sitting. 

“I’m sorry, Marcus.” She squeezed her eyes shut as she realized that he had been talking the entire time and she hadn’t heard a word of it. “Today’s just been so intense and I’ve been all up in my own head, I’m sorry.” 

Marcus grimaced before opening his arms and pulling her to his chest. “What’s happened?” His fingers soothingly traced up and down her arm, leaving a burning sensation in their wake. 

Violet inhaled deeply, unsure of how honest she should be. “Luke had been avoiding me for some reason and when I talked to him, it turned out he had run out on his parents years ago because they didn’t support the dream he was pursuing. He had written his mom a song which he showed me and the girls and it was just – intense, you know?” 

Marcus hummed and pressed a kiss to Violet’s head. “And now you wanna write a song?” 

“Yeah, because Luke’s been so open to me about everything… I wanna do the same for him, you know?” 

Marcus carefully pushed Violet off him and crawled off the bed to grab the acoustic guitar that resided in the corner of the room before returning to the bed and settling onto the very end of it with the guitar in his lap. “Got any ideas?” he asked and started strumming the guitar. 

Violet smiled. This boy would go all the lengths for her. Even writing a song for someone else was something he’d do with a charming smile plastered on his face and love in his heart. It was going to break her, having to say goodbye to him.  

After trying multiple melodies and rhythms and lyrics, the two of them finally managed to figure out the right composition for this song. Their voices sounded sweet like honey as they blended together into a perfect harmony.

“Oh, we're gonna let it show We're gonna just let go of everything Holding back our dreams And try to make it come alive Come on let it shine so they can see We were meant to be Somebody”

They stopped singing and Marcus stopped strumming his guitar. Their eyes lingered on each other for a moment whilst smiles were plastered on their faces. The smiles were tender and filled with admiration for each other. 

“You are an amazing songwriter,” Marcus complimented as he leaned forward to place the guitar safely on the floor. Violet’s chest was aflame. The movement caused a whiff of his cologne to fill up her nostrils and ever since hooking up with him, it had become one of her favorite scents in the world. 

As Marcus sat up again and before he could say anything else, Violet had already launched herself into his arms to hungrily and lustfully kiss his soft, plump lips. It startled the boy at first, but he quickly melted into it and pressed her closer to him until she was sitting in his lap. Their bodies were flush against each other, skin burning in the wake of each touch. Violet craved him. She craved his body and his kiss. She craved Marcus Baker. 

It was moments like this when she realized that Luke didn’t play a vital role in her life. He was just a friend that she kissed once. He was nothing more than that. While Marcus was someone she wanted to be with for a lot longer than she’d like to admit. He wasn’t just a part of her plan into getting Luke to fall in love with her or make him pay for what he had done. Marcus was Marcus, and he was more than just a pon. 

But then reality hit and the crushing sadness of not being able to stay here for forever with Marcus rushed back in. All of this was just temporary. A temporary fix. A temporary love that won’t last forever.  

-

“Are we ready to rock and roooolll?!” Reggie called out enthusiastically when he entered the rehearsal space where Violet and Julie already were with Alex. 

Violet snickered at the boy’s excitement. “Someone’s chipper this morning,” she said. 

The bassist looked the girl up and down, the smile on his face fading into a worried frown. “You look like you haven’t slept at all… What were you up to so late last night?”

Reggie knew his friends like the back of his hand. Even Violet, who wasn’t who she said she was, but he didn’t know that just yet. He thought he was starting to know this girl properly, all while she was keeping this big secret. It was going to crush him and their friendship when he did find out. 

“I spent last night with Marcus,” Violet answered when in the corner of her eye, she noticed some movement coming from the door. Turning her head, her eyes landed on Luke, Bobby and Carrie. They had just entered the rehearsal space when Violet had mentioned her new boyfriend, which wasn’t a name Luke wanted to hear, judging from the look on his face just then. 

“Oooh!” Alex, Julie and Reggie cooed, wiggling their eyebrows suggestively. 

Violet rolled her eyes at them when she focused back on that part of the group. “He helped me write a song,” she said with a small smile tugging at her lips. “You wanna hear?” 

“Obviously,” Julie responded with a playful roll of the eyes before she went to sit down on the sofa the boys had placed in their rehearsal room. Carrie joined her while the boys took their instruments. 

Violet herself sat down behind the keyboard, Bobby taking the spot beside her to take over like they had done with every other song they had sung together. 

“I wrote this one for you, Luke,” Violet confessed. Her heart was going a million miles an hour and she couldn’t seem to slow it down. Especially when those big, beautiful eyes looked right into hers. “You were so open with me when you sang your song for your mom, that I felt I had to return the favor… So…” 

“Let’s hear it!” Alex encouraged her with the excitement of a five-year-old on Christmas. 

Violet smiled, heaved in a deep breath and then placed her shaky fingers on the keys. A gorgeous melody floated out of the instrument and into the room. Smiles found their way to each and every face in that room, except for one. Luke. While Bobby took over from Violet on the piano and mimicked the melody she had been holding for a good few seconds, Luke stared at her with a panicked frown while she moved about the room where Reggie and Alex had picked up their instruments and joined in on the song. 

“Can you see me? 'Cause I'm right here Can you listen? 'Cause I've been trying to make you notice What it would mean to me To feel like somebody We've been on our way to nowhere Tryin' so hard to get there”

Violet smiled as Luke, too, picked up his guitar and started strumming the instrument. Focusing her words on him as she sang, Luke moved around a little until he was in his usual spot where his microphone stood at the ready. 

“And I say, oh We're gonna let it show We're gonna just let go of everything Holding back our dreams And try to make it come alive Come on let it shine so they can see We were meant to be”

Smiling from ear to ear, Luke decided to echo Violet’s words on the post-chorus, adding a new volume to the song. 

“Somebody (somebody) Somebody, yeah (somebody)”

“Somehow Someday Someway Somebody”

It was almost as though everyone else in the room had disappeared and it was just Violet and Luke in there, singing together. Just like that time in the recording booth. It felt like magic. They felt like magic. 

“I'm so tired Of being invisible But I feel it, yeah Like a fire below the surface Trying to set me free Burnin' inside of me 'Cause we're standing on the edge now It's a long way down”

Snapping herself out of this daydream, Violet turned to Alex. The drummer shot her a knowing look, but she decided to ignore it and turn to Reggie instead. He was ready to rock out with her on the chorus. 

“But I say Oh, we're gonna let it show We're gonna just let go of everything Holding back our dreams And try to make it come alive Come on let it shine so they can see We were meant to be”

For the post-chorus, Violet moved to Bobby, giving him some attention too during the song. He, along with the other boys, now sang along as they started to know the words by heart. 

“Somebody (somebody) Somebody, yeah (somebody)”

“Somehow Someday Someway Somebody”

Before Violet could even open her mouth to sing the bridge, another voice chimed in instead. Luke was improvising his way through the bridge, but it sounded great. It sounded even better than what she had come up with with 

“We will walk out of this darkness Feel the spotlight glowing like a yellow sun Oh oh oh oh oh”

Violet moved over to Luke and extended her microphone towards him. Sharing the mic, the two of them sang the rest of the bridge together as though they had known the song all their lives. It was just something about the way Luke looked at her that she knew what she had to sing. It was like she could feel what he wanted her to sing. 

“And when we fall we fall together Till we get back up and we will rise as one, oh, oh ,oh”

The boys lapsed back into the chorus while Violet hit the high notes and ad libbed her way through the very last bit of the song. Their voices blended together perfectly. Almost like they had been doing this together for years. 

“Oh, we're gonna let it show We're gonna just let go of everything Holding back our dreams And try to make it come alive Come on let it shine so they can see We were meant to be”

“Somebody (somebody) Somebody, yeah (somebody)”

“Somehow Someday Someway Somebody Somebody Ooh ohh oh”

The two girls on the sofa burst out into applause while Luke and Violet drowned in each other’s eyes. She vividly remembered the kiss they had shared and how it made her feel. The image was imprinted in her brain so vividly, she felt the urge to do it again. But she didn’t and instead, turned to Carrie as her voice echoed through the studio. 

“That was an amazing song, Vi!” she exclaimed, wrapping her arms around her best friend. 

She could almost intercept the blush from spreading to her cheeks. “Thanks… I have Marcus to thank, though. I wouldn’t have been able to write it without him.” That made Luke turn cold all of a sudden. He broke eye contact and his shoulders tensed. 

“It’s a great song,” he mumbled before turning around to place his guitar back in its spot. 

“It’s yours if you want it? Play it during your gigs?” 

Luke smiled at her and she warmed up from the inside. “Why? What’s in it for you?”

“You can have it on one condition,” she added, her smile turning into a cautious smirk. Luke tilted his head, showing he was all ears. “You have to go talk to your mother…” 

“Got any plans today?” the dm read. 

Violet’s heart nearly jumped out of her chest when she spotted his name at the top of her screen. Luke Patterson had sent her a message. That was something that hadn’t happened before. 

“None at all…” 

As she pressed ‘send’, Violet squeezed her eyes shut before feverishly starting to type another text. 

“Does that make me sound pathetic and lame?” 

Her eyes focused on the dots on her screen, the anxiety rising within her. He must think she was the biggest loser on this planet. A girl with no plans, whatsoever in the middle of the summer. 

“I could never think you’re pathetic or lame,” Violet’s stomach fluttered at the message but stilled when the dots reappeared. “Does that make me sound pathetic and lame?” 

“Just a little,” she replied, but quickly typed another message before she could hurt his feelings. “JK, of course not :)”

Violet dropped her phone on her chest as she fell back on her bed. While her eyes peered at the off-white ceiling, her mind started racing and her heart sped up. Her crush on the boy was definitely back, but in a different intensity. And this time, she felt as though he reciprocated those feelings. Like she actually stood a chance with him. 

Her phone buzzed on her ribcage, causing her to snap up and reach for it, holding it over her face as she read the message. 

“Wanna come over and write together?” 

A squeal erupted from her throat. Luke actually wanted to hang out with her. He wanted to spend some time with her. Alone. Just the two of them. Something about this felt like a dream or a prank they were pulling on her. But then again, there was no reason for him to prank her. Besides her rejecting him but that was water under the bridge, right? 

Especially after the other night on Bobby’s car. 

“Sure! Send me your address and I’ll be there in an hour?” 

Violet’s eyes focused on the screen as Luke typed his reply. “I’d rather you come now…” 

Her heart skipped a few beats, making her wonder how she was even still alive. 

The next text that came through was his address, so, as quickly as she could, she started to get ready. After putting on a few different outfits before landing on a skater dress with a white tee underneath and some sneakers, putting her hair into a pony and doing her natural make-up look she always did, she made her way over to Luke’s. 

The Pattersons lived a few blocks away from Violet’s. She had almost forgotten they lived there as the Luke in her universe now lived in Beverly Hills with the boys, if they were home, that is. 

The quaint bungalow-style home sat in a remote location in Los Feliz. It was surrounded with trees and bushes. The winding road to the front door meandered through patches of grass. Something told Violet that she’d feel at home here. It looked the part. Homely and secure. It was a nice change from the big house her mother now lived in with her new partner. 

“Hi,” Luke greeted as he opened the front door. He stepped aside and let Violet in before shutting the door behind her. The girl waited for him to guide her through the house, which he did. Very quickly. He didn’t stop to let her take everything in and instead, led her to the very back of the house where his bedroom was. 

“My parents are home, so I hope you don’t mind working in my room,” he mentioned before plopping down on his freshly made bed. He had cleaned his room, Violet could tell. There was no way Luke would ever be this neat a person. 

As Violet’s eyes took their time looking around the room, she noticed a few things. The first thing was the abundance of posters that adorned his walls. From Green Day to My Chemical Romance and Fall Out Boy. All rock bands. All undoubtedly inspirational points for the young musician. Then, she noticed the multitude of guitars. An acoustic and two electric guitars sat in the corner of his room while he had a second acoustic one on his lap. The last thing she noticed was the picture on his desk. It was one of him and his parents. All three of them had wide smiles on their faces, his parents on either side of him with arms wrapped around each other. It warmed Violet’s heart knowing Luke had a great bond with his parents in this universe. That wasn’t the case in her universe. 

“I had an idea for a melody,” Luke then said, snapping Violet out of her train of thought. She turned around and headed towards his bed where she sat down next to him whilst a fun melody floated through his guitar. 

“Been so long and now we’re finally free,” Violet sang the line that had been pestering her for about a week. Luke’s head snapped up at this and he shot her the most excited smile she had ever seen. It caused her stomach to flutter once again. 

From that moment on out, the two of them wrote an entire song in one sitting. It was like it poured all out of them at once. Like they had it bottled up in their minds and everything spilled out in that one moment. 

“I got a spark in me Hands up if you can see And you're a part of me Hands up if you're with me Now 'til eternity Hands up if you believe Been so long, and now we're finally free”

The last notes rang out into the room. Neither of them could stop smiling. “Yeah!” Luke called out excitedly and ran a hand through his hair while his eyes were focused on Violet. Her wide smile faded into a more tender one when she noticed the way he was looking at her. If it weren’t for the knock on the door, she probably would’ve kissed him then and there. 

“I brought you guys some snacks,” the soft voice of Emily Patterson called out as she walked into the bedroom with a plate filled with freshly baked cookies. “How’s the songwriting going?” she asked the couple as she placed the plate on Luke’s nightstand next to Violet. 

“We’re almost done,” Violet told her with a smile. “Thanks for the cookies.” 

“You’re most welcome, dear.” Her eyes flicked to her son for a second, who was signalling to her to leave them alone. Though Emily wouldn’t be Emily if she listened to her son’s wishes. “Do you wanna stay for dinner? I’m making spaghetti!” 

“Oh,” Violet brought out and glanced over at Luke, who clearly didn’t love his mother’s presence right now. “I don’t wanna be a burden…” 

Emily swatted her hand. “You’re not a burden at all, dear! I insist! You and Luke can go to rehearsal together afterwards!” She sounded so excited, Violet couldn’t say ‘no’ to her, so she didn’t. 

“Okay, yeah, sure! I’d love to stay for dinner!” Violet cringed at her own level of excitement, but it seemed to appease Emily, so it didn’t matter how annoyingly excited she sounded. The woman then turned and left the bedroom, and once the door fell shut, Luke turned to his guest. 

“What?” Violet asked, giggling. 

“I’d love to stay for dinner!” Luke mocked her with his voice high and the excitement level matched with hers. “Seriously?”

Violet raised her hands in defense. “Your mom sounded so excited! I couldn’t say ‘no’ to her!” 

Luke shook his head, but the smile that shone through on his face, told Violet he wasn’t actually disappointed in her. It was, however, the end of that conversation as Luke just turned back to his guitar and the song they were working on together. 

Violet couldn’t help the butterflies in her stomach during the rest of the day. Not only did she love being so close to Luke, physically, she loved his family too which made her closer to him in a figurative sense as well. Her gut-feeling was correct; she very much did feel at home here. 

As Luke and Violet made their way to Julie’s house for practice at the studio, they talked about the deepest topics. He told her about the one day he almost lost his mother due to a minor heart attack and how he’d been keeping an eye out for her ever since that day. 

“That day gave me a lot of perspective,” he said. “We’d had a fight before that, about football and music and school, so when she nearly collapsed in front of me, I was so frightened. I thought I was gonna lose her. I thought I was gonna lose her and have her die thinking I didn’t love her. So, that’s why since that day, I’ve been less focused on music and football, and more on mom and school. It’s one of the reasons why Sunset Curve broke up in the first place.” 

“That must’ve been so scary! I’m so sorry you had to go through that,” Violet muttered and brushed her fingers against the back of his hand to show her that she was there for him, with him. 

Luke shrugged. “It’s fine now. She’s a lot better and we haven’t had such a petty fight ever since, so that’s good!” 

“A blessing in disguise,” Violet chuckled lightly, and it caused Luke to chuckle too. The sound was like music to her ears. She loved hearing Luke laugh. Especially after a story like that one. 

“Ah, our love birds finally decided to show up!” Alex exclaimed as the two entered the studio where everyone was waiting for them. Violet felt a blush violently rushing up to her cheeks at Alex’s word choice whilst Luke shrugged it off and reached for his guitar. 

“Mom was holding us up,” he said nonchalantly, revealing the fact they had in fact been together before rehearsal too. 

Both Carrie and Julie shot Violet a knowing look, which didn’t help the blush fade, but Violet coughed and walked over to where they had set up the keyboard. “Luke and I wrote a song together, which I think you’ll like,” she announced and, along with Luke, showed the others what they had been working on. 

After a few tries, the band finally started to get it and, eventually, they were able to play the song without any of them messing anything up. 

As usual, Violet started behind the keyboard, her fingers floating over the ivories and, with all the passion and excitement in her voice, she started singing the song she’d written with Luke. 

“Hearts on fire We're no liars So we say what we wanna say I'm awakened No more faking So we push all our fears away”

Her eyes landed on Luke, who was staring at her with an admiring smile on his face. She shot him a wink as she sped up the melody a little, her voice becoming stronger. 

“Don't know if I'll make it 'cause I'm falling under Close my eyes, and feel my chest beating like thunder”

Now she closed her eyes and vanished in the moment, letting herself get swept up in the music. 

“I wanna fly Come alive Watch me shine”

Grabbing the microphone off the stand, Violet moved from behind the keyboard and joined the boys. She halted between Luke and Bobby as they joined in on their guitars along with Alex on drums and Reggie on bass. All while Luke’s voice entangled with hers during the chorus. 

“I got a spark in me Hands up if you can see And you're a part of me Hands up if you're with me Now 'til eternity Hands up if you believe Been so long, and now we're finally free”

The music slowed down a little again and Violet made her way over to Reggie. While Violet sang the verse, he mouthed along with her, a smile on his face. Violet loved making music with these guys. It brought out a whole new version of her. A version they knew already, but she had yet to find. 

“We're all bright now What a sight now Coming out like we're fireworks Marching on proud Turn it up loud 'Cause now we know what we're worth”

She then turned back to the mic stand between Luke and Bobby, and as Luke joined in on the pre-chorus, their eyes locked and they didn’t let go for a good few beats. 

“We know we can make it we're not falling under Close my eyes and feel my chest beating like thunder”

Luke’s eyes stayed on her while she closed hers and turned back forward. She focused on the notes she had to hit, which gave him the opportunity to watch her as she did. 

“I wanna fly Come alive Watch me shine”

He joined in on the chorus again, while Bobby, Reggie and Alex took care of the backing vocals. 

“I got a spark in me Hands up if you can see And you're a part of me Hands up if you're with me Now 'til eternity Hands up if you believe Been so long, and now we're finally free”

Now, Violet turned to Bobby, giving him some attention too but she could still feel Luke’s gaze on her. It made her only slightly nervous, so she quickly moved over to the drums where she rocked out with Alex for a moment. 

“I got a spark in me Hands up if you can see And you're a part of me Hands up if you're with me Now 'til eternity Hands up if you believe Been so long, and now we're finally free”

The music slowed into the bridge when Violet returned to the mic stand and secured her microphone on it before turning towards Luke, taking the stand with her. Sharing her mic, Luke echoed the words she sang to him. 

“I got a spark in me”

“I got a spark in me”

“And you're a part of me”

“And you're a part of me”

Everyone else in that room could sense the chemistry oozing off of the two. They only needed one shared look to know that everyone was thinking the exact same thing; those two were madly in love with one another. 

“Now 'til eternity”

“Now 'til eternity”

“Been so long, and now we're finally free”

As Violet returned to her spot while hitting that high note, the boys lapsed back into the chorus with Reggie and Luke on lead vocals and Bobby and Alex on backings. The ad libs Violet added throughout gave the song all the more volume. 

“I got a spark in me Hands up if you can see And you're a part of me Hands up if you're with me Now 'til eternity Hands up if you believe Been so long, and now we're finally free (yeah, yeah, yeah)”

“I got a spark in me Hands up if you can see And you're a part of me Hands up if you're with me Now 'til eternity Hands up if you believe Been so long, and now we're finally free”

The song faded out, all four boys stopping playing their instruments while Violet’s last notes rang out into the studio. 

“Finally free Yeah”

A sense of adrenaline and pride lingered in the air as the band stood in place, panting and glancing at each other. All of them knew that this song right there was going to be a hit. If only they actually released any music. 

“That was epic, Vi!” Bobby exclaimed. Violet had to blink a few times to register what Bobby had just said. The excitement eluding from Bobby’s face was new. Something she wasn’t quite used to as she just knew him as Carrie’s older brother. 

The girl let out an airy chuckle. “Well, I didn’t do it alone,” she said and looked over her shoulder to Luke, who had this tender smile on his face that she couldn’t quite place. 

“You guys are like the golden duo!” Reggie called out, beaming as he wiped the sweat off his forehead. 

“The world thinks so too!” Carrie called out, raising her phone in the air. Confusion ran through Violet’s mind as she inched closer towards her best friend. “I live streamed the entire song and all I’m getting is praise so far!” She showed the band the saved recording of the live stream, along with all the comments underneath it. “They love Violet Sunset!” 

The boys let out a cheer and shared high fives while Violet could only feel herself crumple. Noticing this, Luke wrapped a protective arm around her shoulders. “We don’t have to do anything else with this if you don’t want it, Vi,” he said and squeezed her against his body. As he let go to place his guitar on its stand again, the lack of his warmth in Violet’s body made her shiver. 

“I’m gonna head home,” Reggie spoke up. “Parents want me to watch over Archie.” Violet had learned that Reggie was the middle child of three boys. Archie was his nine year old younger brother, Nate was his older brother and off to college already. He didn’t have to worry about their parents fighting anymore or watching Archie. But Reggie did. 

“I’ll come with,” Alex chimed in and emerged from behind his drums. 

“Me too,” Luke added and hopped over to his friends, stopping near Violet. “You’re gonna get home okay?” he asked chivalrously with a careful hand on the small of her back. 

“Uhm, yeah,” she squeaked out. “I’ll be okay. Thanks.” The two smiled at each other before the three boys left the garage. 

“So you and Luke, huh?” Carrie started with a smirk, placing her chin in her hand. 

-

“So you and Violet, huh?” Alex teased as the boys made their way down the street together. 

Luke chuckled and was grateful for the sun setting so the boys couldn’t see how madly he was blushing. “What are you talking about?” he asked, playing it off. 

“You and Violet have crazy chemistry together!” Reggie exclaimed while plucking a branch of leaves off a tree that hung overhead. 

“I have chemistry with everyone that I sing with!” Luke countered, wondering if he really wasn’t imagining everything that happened between him and Violet. He caught a glimpse of Alex’ and Reggie’s glance at one another and halted both boys by placing a hand on Reggie’s arm. “No, look!” he said and turned to Reggie to face him. 

“I believe, I believe that we’re just one dream”

He grabbed the back of Reggie’s neck, forcing the boy to look at him. 

“Away from who we’re meant to be That we’re standing on the edge of…”

He paused dramatically, “Great.”  

Reggie swallowed harshly as he blinked rapidly. “Wow, I see chemistry,” Alex agreed while Reggie was still trying to get his bearings. 

“That was pretty hot,” Reggie agreed, coughing. Wanting to tease the boy even more, Luke pressed his fingers against his lips before touching Reggie’s lips, startling the boy into a nervous cough. “Girls, am I right?” 

“Yeah,” Luke agreed as he walked away from his friends. 

“No,” Alex responded before following Luke. Reggie needed a few more seconds before he was able to move and follow the boys. All while Luke was all up in his head about the whole chemistry thing. Was it just a singing thing or was there actually something between him and Violet? 

-

The girls kept pestering Violet for information on her and Luke. Information Violet didn’t let go of, let alone she knew about herself. She didn’t know what it was exactly she felt for Luke. Aside from familiarity, warmth, bliss, alternated with absolute dread and fury because of what another version of the boy did to her and the fact that she wasn’t going to be here in a month. 

“Enjoy it while it lasts, buttercup,” Carrie told her when the two of them were alone after they’d left Julie’s. Violet’s confused glance must’ve tipped Carrie off as she continued. “Go on a date with him, kiss him, fuck him. Do what you didn’t get to do when you were in your universe! You only don’t wanna date this version of him because he reminds you of the Luke you know, the Luke that broke your heart.” There was some truth to Carrie’s words. The anger and resentment only came from him having the same face as the person who had broken her. 

“I guess you’re right…” Violet replied. “I guess I –” she stopped in her tracks when she noticed a group of people in front of Carrie’s security gate. Under the street light, she could make out the faces of the girls in her band. Dirty Candy stood in front of Carrie’s house, presumably waiting for them. 

“Girls,” Carrie seethed through her teeth, crossing her arms in front of her chest. 

“We saw your live stream,” Kayla started, but it didn’t sound bitter or filled with resentment. It was cautious and filled with regret. “You shine up there with those boys, Violet… I wish we could still have that…” 

Violet’s mind ran through all the words aimed at her. There had to be a way to be in Dirty Candy while also being in Violet Sunset with the boys. There had to be a middle ground. Something to keep everyone happy. Especially Carrie. 

“We could… On one condition…” Violet trailed off, making sure she had everyone’s attention. “We don’t stick to bubblegum pop but branch out a little.” 

Kayla exchanged glances with the other candies, all of them wordlessly assenting. “What did you have in mind?” 

Violet smiled. All of it was going to fall into place. Everything had to fall into place. This was how she was going to get back to her universe. Not just by getting the band back together, but by letting everything fall into place. Including herself and Luke.    

“You didn’t have to come along,” Luke said as he nervously fiddled with the rings on his fingers as they stood in front of his front door. He had dreamt of taking a girl like Violet home with him. He just hadn’t expected it to actually be Violet, nor in this circumstance. 

Violet shrugged in response. “I wanted to make sure you actually went through with it. Now right the doorbell. We’ve been standing here for five minutes like complete idiots.” 

Nervously, Luke lifted his hand. He hesitated, and Violet noticed this, so she placed her hand over his and forced his finger to the button. His eyes flicked towards her, panic and regret fleeting through his eyes. 

“You got this,” Violet encouraged him right before the door opened and his father appeared in front of them. Mister Patterson was a tall gentleman, his hair and eyes matched Luke’s perfectly while his slightly crooked nose supported the thick glasses. 

“Lukas…” Mitch mumbled, chuckling in relief. 

“Hi, dad…” Luke’s voice managed something just above a whisper, but it failed him further, forbidding him from saying anything else on the matter. 

At this moment, Violet jumped into the rescue. “Hi, I’m Violet, a friend of Luke’s,” she introduced herself and politely stretched out her hand for Mitch to shake, which the old man did, with confusion written all over his face. “Could we come in for a moment? Luke’s got something important to say but he’s going to need a moment… or five…” 

Mitch nodded his head and stepped aside, allowing the teenagers to walk in. Violet grabbed Luke’s hand and pulled him inside while also pulling him back to earth. The warmth of her hand engulfed him and sent some fresh confidence into his veins. 

“Did I hear the doorbell?” Luke’s mother sounded as she entered the living room where all three of them halted. The woman’s eyes landed on the girl in her living room before flicking to her own son. “Luke…” Tears pooled in her eyes as she spoke his name. 

“Hi mom,” he said and cleared his throat. His eyes flicked over to Violet, who gave him an encouraging nod while her fingers curled around his hand, squeezing it for extra support. 

“I– I just wanted to tell you that I’m sorry… I’m sorry for the fight we had and I’m sorry for running out on you like that. We should’ve talked about it like adults, but instead, I ran away like a child.” Luke’s eyes became watery and even Violet started to struggle. “You were right, mom… I wasn’t ready for life in the spotlight or life on the road. It’s hard… It’s so hard and every day, I wished I still had you and dad by my side…” 

“Oh, Lukas…” Emily choked on her tears before opening her arms to take her long-lost son into a hug. Violet let go of his hand, allowing the boy to reunite with his mother. “I was wrong too, darling,” she whispered. “You’re doing great up there. You’re thriving, you’re making amazing music, doing what you love.” 

Luke carefully pushed his mother off him, keeping her at arm's length so he could look into her eyes. “Yeah, but none of that’s worth it without you supporting me. I hate doing what I love without knowing the people I love are supporting me.” 

“Just because we weren’t in your life anymore, doesn’t mean we didn’t support you,” Mitch chimed in with a teary smile. “We’ve been proudly watching your every move from a distance, son.” Mitch laid a hand on Luke’s shoulder, a movement that made Violet tear up even more. She was glad she had come along. She didn’t want to miss this moment for the world. 

“Aren’t you going to introduce us to your girlfriend?” Emily then chuckled, her eyes landing on Violet, who silently stood behind Luke with tears running down her face. 

Luke turned his head and let out a laugh. “She’s not my girlfriend, but this is Violet. My best friend,” he smiled at her and outstretched his hand for her to take and join him by his side. “She’s brought me back with my two feet on the ground. She’s the reason I’m still breathing.” 

Emily looked at Violet and smiled a thankful smile. “Thank you,” she said and pulled the girl in for a hug. 

The two teenagers stayed at the Pattersons for dinner and while Emily showed Violet some old photos of Luke afterwards, Violet couldn’t keep her eyes off the boy. Every now and again, she glanced over and caught him looking at her, too. 

“Thank you,” he mouthed when their eyes locked for the nth time and Violet just smiled. This meant a lot to Luke, she could tell. She hoped he could tell he meant a lot to her, too.  

It was going to suck, big time, when she had to leave. 

Everything Taglist: 

@bonobos-candy-bar-2 @calamitykaty​ @littlemissaddict​ @n0wornever​ @phantompogues​ @praetorofthelegion @sweetpeasturtleneck @wanniiieeee​  @lesko_ @sunsetwilson 

JATP Taglist: 

@90ssunsetcurve @angryknightstatesmantrash @authentic-gillespie @bexxy @bookdealer5 @bright-molina @brooke0297 @bucksmaddie @buckybarnesishot310 @caitsymichelle13 @candycornmgg @catgirlpwr @charliesmountains @cordeliascrown @crybabyddl @echocharm17618 @fangirlangioma @flower-name @frickin-bats @gray_jato @hannahhistorian92 @happinessinthedarkesttimes @headheartbellarke @hemmingsness @iainttakingshitfromnobody @ifilwtmfc @jandthephantoms @jaskiers-sweetkiss @jatp-is-god @joynerxmercer @kaitieskidmore1 @kcd15 @kelpwithawhy @kinda-really-lost @kiss-themoongoodbye @knitsessed @lilostif16 @lookingthroughmirrors @magicalxdaydream @marinettepotterandplagg @musicianspiritsblog @mystic-writings @notasofti @pxperphxntom @rangerelik @rh-girlonfire @ruvaitkevicius @spencerreidwhore @stars-soph @stressyanddepressysimp @sunsetcurvej @talk-on-the-street @tefilovesreading @tenaciousperfectionunknown @teti-menchon0604 @the-hufflepuff-hunter  @thedarkqueenofavalon @cucumbers-and-olives @thequirkybookaholic @threeghostboys  @vicesvsvirtuesfanfic @whitetigerlover17 @boggie-brainrot @wiselight @gigglysokkamcu @nightfurya​

Luke/Charlie Taglist: 

@camiladelrio98 @cloudy-skyler @gingerxarmy​ @killerqueenfan @lolychu @lovesanimals @luckylouiebug  @lukeys-giggle​ @myfriendscallmebeans​ @needyreggie​ @perfectlywrongformend3s​ @rachmmb​ @tenaciousperfectionunknown​ @thecharlietomygillespie @whitemanshoe19​ @rottenroyalebooks @sofiamich2022​

Crossed out names are the users I was unable to tag. Please make sure everything in your settings is set so I am allowed to tag you or if you changed your url, please drop me a message/ask!

TAGLIST |  MASTERLIST | PARALLELS MASTERLIST

[angelqueen04]

Hamliza Month, Day 29

@megpeggs @historysalt

Nap Summary: Alexander comes home to the Grange to find that things aren’t entirely as he left them.

The Grange was such a welcome sight, Alexander thought as he stepped out of the barn. The trip had not been an overly long one, but it had still been highly unwelcome. He had not wanted to leave Eliza or the children, but there had been no avoiding it. Still, at least he was home now. With the gig put up and the horse comfortably settled, there was nothing to stop him from entering the house and rejoining his family – the only place he wanted to be, and the only people he cared to see.

As he approached the house, however, he heard the sound of children laughing coming from the garden. Smiling, Alexander bypassed the front door and took the path around to the back of the house. There, he found five of his children. Alex had Liza by her hands and was swinging her around in circles, much to her delight, if her thrilled shrieks were any indication. James was on the ground not too far away, clearly having been wrestling with William, who now sat atop his brother with a triumphant grin. Johnny was also present, but was seated under a tree, his head bent over a book.

That just left Eliza, Angelica, and little Phil unaccounted for. Angelica, he knew, had gone to Albany to visit her grandparents, but surely Eliza would be out here with the rest of the children? Though autumn was rapidly approaching – he would need to begin the preparations for them to move into their house in the city soon – the air was still plenty warm enough. Surely there was no need to worry about the baby catching a cold?

“Well, well,” he called to his children, “here you are, quite the merry party! May I join you, or is this by invitation only?”

All five of them immediately froze at the sound of his voice. Alex lowered Liza safely to the grass, and she promptly leapt back up to her feet and threw herself toward Alexander. William also abandoned his position on top of James and raced to him. Even Johnny put his book down to come and greet him.

Alexander laughed as he swept Liza up into his arms, and he ruffled William’s already unruly hair after settling her on his hip. His three older sons approached at a slower pace, one they likely thought was more dignified than the excited leaping about of the younger children. Oh, how eager they are to be perceived as men instead of boys, Alexander thought fondly.

“Welcome home, Papa,” James greeted. Alex and Johnny echoed the welcome.

“I’m very glad to be home, my lambs,” he responded. Pressing a kiss to Liza’s temple, Alexander glanced around at their surroundings. “Where are your mother and little Phil?”

Alex and James shared a look, their expressions growing more serious, and Alexander straightened, growing concerned. When they didn’t respond immediately, he narrowed his eyes. “Boys?” he prodded, his tone growing sharp with warning.

It was William who spoke up before his brothers could. “Mama’s inside with the baby,” he told him. “Mama said we could play, but it had to be outside so Phil could sleep.”

“Oh, well, that’s not so bad, is it?” Babies napped all the time, after all. Still, James, Alex, and even Johnny now still had solemn expressions.

“Phil’s been crying all night,” Johnny said. “He won’t sleep. So Mama tries to get him to sleep during the day. She’s been upstairs most of the day with him. The doctor was here this morning.”

A nervous, painful knot began to form in Alexander’s stomach. “I see,” he said slowly. Was something wrong with Phil? Was he ill? Was that why Eliza had summoned Dr. Hosack? None of her letters had intimated that Phil was sick.

He gestured for Alex to take Liza from him, which, to the boy’s credit, he did without hesitation. “Why don’t you continue on here?” Alexander suggested. “I’ll go inside and check on your mother and Phil, and see about a little snack before supper.”

The suggestion of food gained him enthusiastic agreement from William and Liza, and even Johnny appeared interested, though he continued to do his best to imitate the more laid back, knowing reaction of his older brothers. Providing them with the most reassuring smile he could muster, Alexander then turned on his heel and made for the back door. As he hurried up the steps and entered the house, his thoughts raced.

Eliza had not had an easy time of it when she had been carrying Phil. Even before… Even before Philip’s death, her health had been precarious enough that Dr. Hosack visited several times a week. The dreadful blow of Philip’s sudden loss had been devastating enough that the physician had ordered her onto near total bed rest for the duration of the pregnancy. It had been nearly two months before they’d even been sure the baby was still alive.

When Phil was finally born, just shortly before Alexander had moved the whole family out to the Grange for the first time, the reactions had been nothing short of hysterical relief. Though the labor had been difficult, Eliza had come through it as well as could be expected. Phil had all the appearances of a healthy babe, and did not seem to have been harmed by the terrible shock his mother had suffered while she carried him.

As he made his way toward the front of the house, slipping through the yellow parlor to the front hall, Alexander spotted their hired girl, Nan, coming down the stairs from the second floor, carrying a large laundry basket.

“Mr. Hamilton,” she greeted when she spotted him as she reached the landing. “Welcome home, sir!”

Alexander managed a small smile for her, even as his eyes remained focused on the stairs. “Thank you, Nan. When you have a moment, could you ask Mrs. Georges if she would arrange a small snack for the children and bring it out to the garden please? It’s not too close to supper.”

Nan nodded and she turned the corner to take the steps down to the lower level of the house. “Of course, sir.”

That taken care of, Alexander started up the stairs, taking two at a time. Coming up to the landing, he immediately rounded the corner and hurried to the door to his and Eliza’s bedchamber. The door had been left slightly ajar. Placing his hand on the doorknob, Alexander took a deep, calming breath before pushing the door open.

His eyes immediately went to their bed. Eliza lay curled on her side, facing a large circle of pillows. Her eyes were open and focused upon the pillows, but then turned to him as he appeared in the room. Her dark eyes, which had faint dark circles around them, brightened and a small, weary smile came across her face. Slowly, she sat up, being careful not to jostle the bed as she moved. Standing up, she quietly moved a few pillows, enclosing the circle around the sleeping babe in the middle. She then made her way toward him, a finger pressing against her lips in the familiar warning to stay quiet. Alexander nodded, and then he followed her back out into the hallway.

Once the door was shut, he and Eliza moved back down the hallway, coming to stand before the large, ornate window at the front of the house. “What’s happened?” he demanded, taking care to keep his voice low. “Is he ill? Was that why Hosack was here today?”

Eliza blinked, surprised at being on the receiving end of a barrage of questions instead of the loving, tender greetings she was usually granted when he returned home. “What?”

“Phil,” Alexander elaborated, waving his hand back toward their bedchamber. “The children said he won’t sleep, that he cries all night. What’s wrong?”

She stared at him, and then sighed. “Oh, darling,” she said, taking her hands in his and squeezing them tightly. “Nothing is wrong. Nothing that can’t be mended, anyway.”

“What do you mean?”

Eliza looked around, and then nodded to two of the chairs that were situated outside of Angelica and Liza’s chamber. They settled down in them, hands still clasped, and she began to speak. “Phil hasn’t been sleeping well at night, in his crib,” she explained. “But he’ll sleep perfectly well during the day when I make a place for him in our bed. He’s also had a mild rash on his skin, which is why I sent for Dr. Hosack.” She glanced over her shoulder toward their bedchamber. “He thinks that Phil is having a bad reaction to something in his crib, perhaps the feathers in the mattress. The doctor gave me a salve for his skin, which is already helping. He’s sleeping even better in our bed than he normally has.”

Alexander took a deep, steady breath, considering his wife’s explanation. He knew that sometimes people did not react well to certain things in their daily lives. His brother, when they had been very young, had not been able to abide cow’s milk, though he had eventually outgrown that intolerance, much to their mother’s relief. Alexander had even heard of some ladies not being able to bear the sensation of certain fabrics or dried dyes on their skin.

“So, Phil will be all right, then?” he finally inquired.

Eliza smiled at him and raised a hand to his cheek, brushing her thumb over the skin. “Yes, dear. Dr. Hosack says that it is a mild reaction, though he recommended that we throw out the entire mattress and scrub the crib thoroughly before Phil sleeps in it again, to be safe.” Amusement flared in her eyes. “He sleeps very well in our bed, and seems to like your pillow the best. He always grabs onto it when he wakes.” Eliza laughed. “Perhaps he finds his papa’s scent soothing.”

A reflexive smile came to his lips in response to his wife’s laughter. Even now, it was a relief to hear her sound so happy, after all that she had endured.

They sat together like that for a few moments, content in one another’s presence, until Eliza said, “I should go and check on him. I think it helps him to rest if I’m there.”

“May I join you?” he asked impulsively, standing up as she did. When she stared at him, surprised, Alexander could feel his cheeks heating up a bit and he added, “It’s still some hours ‘til supper, and it’s been a long trip.” He smiled at her, feeling unaccountably shy for some reason. “I’ve missed you.”

Eliza’s eyes softened as she gazed at him, and then nodded. “Of course.” Tugging on his hand, she began to lead him back to their chamber. “Quietly, now,” she whispered.

Alexander shed his coat, waistcoat, and shoes as soundlessly as he could after they reentered their chamber, leaving them on a chair nearby. Eliza had already returned to the bed, resuming the same position she had been in when he had first come upon her. Alexander carefully climbed onto the other side, curling his body around the circle of pillows. This allowed him a clearer look at his tiny son. Phil’s skin did indeed have an unusual pink tint to it, and he could see a few raised spots, though thankfully, nothing that had the look of smallpox or any other such disease.

He didn’t reach out to touch the sleeping babe, though he dearly wanted to, if just to reassure him of his continued health and existence. Alexander turned his head toward Eliza, and found that she wasn’t looking at Phil, but at him, her expression gentle and loving. Silently, she reached out with the hand that was closest to him, the one outside of the pillow circle. Alexander grasped it without hesitation, holding onto her as tightly as he could. Then, as one, they turned their eyes back toward the fragile life between them, their last child.

We are here, my little one, Alexander thought. We are here, and we love you. Stay with us.

[thejolexgroupchat]

Would love to see a fic of prompt #57 !!! (“So stick that in your juice box and suck it.” ) I have no idea what it would be like but it just sounds fun ahaha

We absolutely LOVE the prompts you all sent us. This fic was written by Nina @doc-pickles and Leya @iamtrebleclefstories

Enjoy the first of many collaborative fics from The Group Chat!

the one with the juice box

It was an unusually hot May day in Seattle, meaning the ER was filled with heat stroke patients that kept everyone busy. Alex had been running back and forth from the peds floor to the ER all day, checking in on new patients while still maintaining his normal routine. To be honest, he was exhausted and all he wanted was to settle in for lunch with his wife. He hadn’t seen her since they’d walked in together almost four hours ago, which wasn’t unusual, but she usually popped by to see him at least once or twice. 

Clocking off for his lunch, Alex wandered down towards the main surgical floor in search of his wife. She’d seemed okay when they were getting ready for the day, extreme morning sickness turned to only an occasional swell of nausea now that she was in her second trimester. Still, Alex couldn’t help the worry for his wife that wound itself through his body. He knew that the pregnancy was taking a toll on her, both physically and emotionally, so, although he was sure she was going to be fine, he couldn't help but worry. 

After searching and finally asking a few nurses he’d passed, he found Jo laying on an empty gurney in one of the quieter hallways. She wasn’t asleep, just laying on her back and glaring at the ceiling with the most adorable angry pout Alex had ever seen. He smiled because the position she was lying in allowed him to see the tiniest curve of her stomach, so small and barely there that he was probably the only one who noticed.

He came up behind her and pressed a tender kiss on her forehead, “Hi.”

“Shut up,” Jo scowled.

“What?” Alex asked, a puzzled look on his face. “All I did was say hi. You can’t be mad at me for that.”

“I’m not mad because you said hi,” Jo rolled her eyes. “I’m mad at you because you did this to me. You knocked me up and now I can barely stand without feeling like I’m going to fall over.”

Alex wanted to laugh, honestly. But he knew if he did, he’d end up in the doghouse. Jo’s hormones had been a whirlwind lately. Most days, he teetered on the edge of saying something equally snarky back or just taking it in stride. Today, he decided to contain himself, “You’re not dizzy because you’re pregnant. Well, it’s not the only reason you’re dizzy. You’re dizzy because you’ve barely eaten anything all day. This morning when I made breakfast, you almost bit my head off for placing eggs in front of you, and proceeded to tell me how you couldn’t stand the smell and didn’t want to eat anything. I had to practically shove that piece of toast down your throat.”

“It’s still kind of your fault. Because if I weren’t pregnant, then I wouldn’t have weird food aversions that keep me from eating.” Jo pointed out. 

“As far as I remember, you’re the one who got us into this situation. You stopped taking your pills, and I told you that I didn’t have a condom but you said and I quote, ‘I don’t care. I’m naked and horny, stop stalling and just stick it in me.’ So really, you did this to yourself,” Alex shrugged.

“Whatever,” Jo glared at her husband. “What do you want?”

“I was wondering if you wanted to come eat lunch with me,” Alex asked sweetly, knowing if he won Jo over with his charm she might not realize he was just trying to get food into her over exerted body. 

“I honestly don’t know if I can even get up from this gurney,” Jo admitted, eyes moving up to meet Alex’s. He could see just from looking at her how much of a toll everything was taking on her. “I think I’m just gonna spend the next few months here, then I don’t have to move when I give birth.”

“I’ll carry you over there if I have to,” Alex offered, holding his hand out towards Jo. “Come on, I’ll help you up and hold your hand if you get dizzy.”

“Fine,” Jo huffed and held on to Alex as she let him help her off the gurney. 

They got to the cafeteria and Jo wrinkled her nose at the available options. Nothing looked appetizing, prompting her to grab an apple and banana and sit down at a table. Alex joined her a moment later, tray loaded with a burger, a sandwich, two bags of chips, and a fruit cup. He grabbed the burger and bit into it before fixing Jo with a pointed stare.

“Please for the love of god, force yourself to eat something besides an apple,” Alex pushed the tray towards Jo who glared at him. “If you don’t eat any of that, I’m putting you on my service so I can watch you all day and make sure you don’t pass out.”

“I’m not a resident anymore, you can force me on your service,” Jo pointed out, eyeing him warily.

“Dammit. That’s right. You’re a fellow,” Alex wrinkled his nose. “Well, good news is that I’m the chief, so technically I can have you follow me around all day.” 

Jo stared him down for a moment, Alex unfazed by his wife’s glare as he bit into his burger. Finally relenting, Jo grabbed a bag of chips and began to slowly eat them between bites of fruit. 

“You know I really hate you sometimes,” Jo mumbled as she took a final bite of the apple, a low groan escaping her as she did so. “Bailey would never abuse her power like this.”

“You didn’t know her when I was a resident,” Alex took another bite of his burger. “Are you sure you don’t want anything else? You can have some of my burger.”

“I’m sure,” Jo shook her head, a disgusted look crossing her face as she settled one hand onto her stomach. “Watching you eat is making me feel nauseous.”

Alex sighed, looking to Jo with a serious expression “This isn’t okay Jo. I can’t have you walking around the hospital alone without having eaten anything. You’re with me today, okay?”

“I don’t need to be babysat Alex, I can take care of myself,” Jo whined, crossing her arms across her chest like an angry toddler. “You don’t need to watch me 24/7.”

“You fell asleep on our bathroom floor yesterday after puking for 30 minutes. How about this,” Alex leaned in towards his wife with a small grin. “Shepherd and I have a Peds case together, you can come and help us so it doesn’t feel like I’m just dragging you around to make sure you don’t pass out in a storage closet.”

Jo eyed Alex warily, he was almost certain she was going to fight him on it, but he wore his ‘I’m the Chief don't test me right now’ expression well enough that she finally conceded. 

“Ugh… fine,” Jo groaned, standing and reaching for Alex’s hand. “Bailey’s out today anyway, so it’s not like I have anything better to do. But this is a one time thing!”

Alex joined Jo, one arm wrapped tightly around her shoulder as they headed towards the elevators. 

“That’s the spirit, your enthusiasm is appreciated,” Alex chuckled as they made their way to the Peds ward. “If you keep eating and stop feeling like shit, maybe I’ll let you do more things on your own.”

Alex led Jo into a patient room, Helm and Shepherd already speaking with a young girl and her mom. Amelia was explaining the procedure to them, so Alex and Jo hung back by the door until they’d finished. 

“I brought you something,” Alex whispered, handing a box of apple juice to Jo. “Figured you can keep your electrolytes up.”

Jo rolled her eyes as she snatched the juice box from Alex, sticking it in the pocket of her lab coat. "You're a pain in the ass. Stop hovering."

“Geez, Jo. Why are you so grumpy? I'm supposed to be the grumpy one,” Alex tried joking in hopes of lightening the mood. "You're the nice one in this relationship. "

“Did you forget that I'm literally carrying your genes right now?" Jo stared her husband down. "I am part Alex Karev at this moment and will continue to be for the next five and a half months, so you better get used to this.” 

Alex narrowed his eyes at her and reached for the juice box in her pocket. He removed the straw from the plastic and handed both items back to his wife, "Whatever. You can be mean and grumpy all you want, but you're carrying our kid and they need nutrients. So, stick that in your juice box and suck it."

Jo glared at Alex as she stuck the straw in the juice box. She was about to open her mouth in response when her smart remark was interrupted by Amelia calling Alex over to speak to the mom.

“Gracie and Delilah, this is Doctor Karev. He’s the best pediatric surgeon we have and he’s going to help me fix you up Gracie,” Amelia turned from Gracie to her mom. “Seriously this guy is a miracle worker, you’re lucky I convinced him to come consult.”

Alex pulled Delilah aside, explaining in more detail exactly what Gracie’s treatment plan would look like. He could tell she was worried, but hoped that he and Amelia could keep her nerves at bay. 

“Any other questions before we start doing labs?”

“Well just one,” Delilah blushed, eyelashes batting against her cheeks as she looked up to Alex. “Would it be inappropriate for me to ask for your number?”

Now, it’s not like Alex had never been hit on at work before. He had been, plenty of times, especially being a peds surgeon that dealt with scared moms daily. But since he’d been preoccupied with his Chief duties, lately he hadn’t spent enough time alone with moms to have them hit on him. Not to mention it was the first time Alex had experienced this since he’d gotten married. He also didn’t expect for his wife to be standing on the opposite side of the room when it happened.

So for that very reason, Alex blurted out the first thing that came to his mind, “I’m sleeping with her.”

Delilah looked stunned and a bit confused, scrunching her face as she looked to the doctors behind them, “Which one?”

Alex looked around the room and saw Jo standing with Amelia and Helm talking to Gracie. Jo clinked her juice box against Gracie’s and took a giant slurp. Alex turned back around to Delilah and motioned to Jo, “The one with the juice box.”

“Oh,” Delilah nodded, a strange expression on her face.

“Yeah,” Alex laughed awkwardly, his hand coming up to rub against his neck. “That’s my wife. My pregnant wife, sharing a juice box with your kid. Who I’m about to operate on.”

Alex and Delilah stood in an awkward silence that was only broken by Amelia announcing that Helm was going to run labs for Gracie before they prepped her for surgery. Alex quickly said his goodbyes to Gracie and Delilah, grabbing Jo’s arm pulling her out of the hospital room. 

“Geez you’re eager to get out of there,” Jo joked, sipping off her juice box as they walked down the hall. “What’s up with you?”

“She hit on me,” Alex blurted out, turning to Jo with a shocked expression. “Gracie’s mom hit on me.”

There was a beat of silence between the two before Jo burst into laughter, holding a hand to her chest as she tried to contain the giggles coming from her mouth. Jo wiped a few tears from her eyes, "What did you say? Please tell me you froze like an idiot."

Alex ran a hand over his face in hopes of disguising his embarrassment, "I told her I was sleeping with the one drinking the juice box." 

"Oh God… Alex," Jo's laughter started up again. She laughed in between her words. "Out of everything... that's what you said? Did you at least say that we're married. I don't need patients thinking I'm servicing the Chief." 

"Of course. I'm not that much of an idiot," Alex sighed. "I don't need patients thinking that the Chief of Surgery is a man-whore."

"He used to be," Jo muttered under her breath, nudging Alex with a smirk.

"Shut up," Alex stuck his tongue out, deciding to mess with Jo a bit. "I haven't been like that in years. You know that you're the only person I've slept with in the past six years? You can't exactly say the same."

"Hey!" Jo gasped and slapped Alex on the shoulder. "I thought we agreed to forget about that. Me sleeping with Schmidt was a momentary lapse in judgement. And I only did it because I was trying to get over you."

"Well, would you look at how that worked out," Alex poked her small bump lightly. "You ended up with me anyway."

"I know," Jo groaned. "And now I have to put up with you for the rest of my life."

"You love me," Alex bent down and gave Jo a quick peck on the lips. "Come on, we've got like forty-five minutes before we've got to meet Shepherd in the OR and I'm going to try to force a granola bar or something down your throat."

"We've got forty-five minutes free and all you want to do is make sure I eat something?" Jo shook her head in disappointment. "Gosh, being Chief has really mellowed you out. Who are you and what have you done with Alex Karev?"

"Huh?" Alex looked at her in confusion. "What did you want to do with your free time?"

"Alex, come on. You can't be that clueless," Jo looked at him expectantly. Seeing that he wasn't going to catch on anytime soon, she decided to spell it out for him. "Dude. I'm fifteen weeks pregnant and my hormones are raging right now,"

A look of realization finally crossed Alex's face, "Oh… Oh! You wanna?"

"Yup," Jo nodded and looked at him with an expression that could only be described as hungrily. 

"I could be into that," Alex whispered. "Let's get out of here before someone sees me and decides that they need the Chief."

[fallingstarstuff]

Chapter 25 (WIP)

This is a preview of Chapter 25 (well, more like the first 2/3rds of it) and it is a work in progress, so some wording may change in the final cut. Also Tumblr ate all the formatting and I’m to lazy too put it back in, so just imagine italics in all the right spots.

Full fic on AO3: From the Mouth of an Injured Head

For @cipher-the-sidhe

 - - - - - - -

You had so many questions.

In that moment, none of them mattered.

Gaster shuffled inside your apartment while you clung to him with your legs dangling, his arms wrapped securely around you while nudging the door shut behind him with a foot.

Gaster had feet.

The hand that wasn’t holding the bundle of weeds rubbed soothing circles on your back, but you could not stop crying. Your joy at seeing him was a very fragile and perilous thing, made of spun glass and inches from turning to dust. Part of you was convinced this wasn’t real. 

Stars, let this be real.

You could feel hard bones pressed against your body under the lab coat. No longer was he an amorphous dripping mass of shadows. Skeletal arms, ribs, the knobs of his spine, all of it so strange and unfamiliar. He even smelled different, or rather you registered a scent where there was nothing before. He smelled of ozone, old books and magic. 

Your sobs waned, hiccups taking their place and you felt Gaster bend down, his spine bowing, to set you on the floor. Your fingers tightened their grip on his lab coat, not wanting to let go. His head turned, reassuring kisses dusting your neck, and after a few moments your arms slowly unwound, falling back to your sides.

Gaster straightened up, smiling down at you in an abashed way that didn’t reach his eye sockets. 

<I apologize for taking so long to return, the journey here was far longer than I expected.>

You shook your head, still trying to take him in with wide eyes, “I don’t understand.” you whispered. “It worked?”

<Yes, perhaps not precisely as intentioned, but as you can see...> He gestured almost grandly to himself, the success of the extraction process self-evident, <I am sure there is much explaining to be done, I cannot imagine what the experience must have been like from this side.> he glanced around your apartment, noting the machine that was ripped apart in your hallway and the huge chunks of wall missing as well as the scorched and warped platform. The scene of destruction curved his mouth into a confounded frown.

Despite the litany of questions you meant to ask, somehow the first one out of your mouth was: “Why do you have a bunch of weeds?” you rasped, pointing at the greenery. There were dandelions, queen anne’s lace, and buttercups, all slightly wilted clutched in his hand.

Gaster flushed, and you noted that the color blooming on his skull was not the muted lilac you were used to, but a several shades closer to violet. <I had read that humans offer bouquets of flowers as tokens of affection. Unfortunately the options available along the road were quite limited.>

He held out the bunch of foliage, and you couldn’t help the broken laugh that escaped you, nor the slow, tired smile as you accepted the hastily constructed “bouquet”. “Thank you. You are too sweet. I don’t have a vase or-” you blinked, your exhausted mind sluggish to process his words. “What road?”

<The road down from Mount Ebott. I will speak with Doctor Alphys but clearly the procedure did not go entirely as planned and the convergence point collapsed. When I was ejected from the void I was flung out of the most proximal convergence point to this one.> he paused, waiting for you to find the answer, like his favorite pupil who always knew just what to say next.

You didn’t.

You were so tired.

Your head throbbed.

You SOUL hurt.

<...I exited the grey door in the Underground.> he provided the answer when you did not respond, eye sockets narrowing. His phalanges gripped your chin, tilting your head up so he could examine you closely and critically for the first time since he arrived. You were sure he was alarmed by what he saw. You could hardly stand to look at your own reflection, skin paler than ever, bloodshot eyes, and bruises under them. Chapped lips, wild-maned, broken.

“I look like shit.” you supplied, knowing he would never say that, even if he concurred.

<You look like you haven’t slept.> he signed, concern growing.

“‘Cause I haven’t.”

<Alex, it’s been two days.> His skull contorted with dismay.

“I thought you were dead!” you cried, voice splintering as fresh tears spilled down your cheeks. Gasters eye sockets widened, taken aback. “Everyone thinks you’re gone. I couldn’t feel you and there weren’t any readings and Sans said I killed you!”

He dropped down to one knee, lowering himself so he could hug you again as you broke down into tears, pulling you against his ribcage and softly stroking his phalanges through your tangled hair. Your weeping almost instantly slowed, soothed by his presence alone. He wasn’t dead, he was here, he was out of the void, he was here with you.

<I don’t understand, I can still sense you now, clearer than ever. It was how I navigated my way here. The link between our SOULs should still be there...May I see your SOUL?> he signed as he reluctantly pulled back.

You nodded, wiping your eyes with your palm and bracing yourself. The embers in your chest flared like they’d been exposed to fresh oxygen as you drew your SOUL out, hissing in pain through clenched teeth.

Gaster gasped, his bones rattling.

It was worse than you could have imagined.

The normally vivid blue was dull, no longer the bright glowing radiance that made your surroundings seem dim in comparison. Instead splotches of ashen grey mottled the surface, obscuring the usual luminosity giving your SOUL the appearance of being diseased. Of course it felt like it burned, but you hadn’t expected it to look like it too.

<What did you do!?> To say Gaster was horrified would be an understatement.

You shrugged, “Pulled you out of the void, apparently.”

There was an incredulous pause, then, <...What!?>

“The machine broke,” you gestured at the mangled device, “So I guess I got you out myself. Things got really foggy there at the end. I think I hit my head.”

He shook his skull, utterly dismayed at your flippant response. Swiftly, he took the flowers from your hands, dumping them on the counter and without warning, scooped you up, one long arm under your back, the other tucked under your knees as he stood back up and held you in an effortless princess carry.

<Have you any idea how much I’ve wanted to do this?> he signed with summoned hands, looking rather irate as he walked towards your bedroom, stepping over broken machinery.

“Carry me off to bed?” you said with an attempt at a cheesy grin, the expression marred by your exhaustion.

<Hold you, like this,> he corrected, <and I wish it were under any other circumstances. I have not seen a SOUL Burn so severe in all my years, how are you still standing!?>

“Alphys didn’t seem too worried.”

<Had she misplaced her glasses!?> he signed, outraged.

“Nah, I did actually, couldn’t find them anywhere... I didn’t give her a chance to look at my SOUL. Kicked them all out. Started cleaning. Didn’t stop.” you muttered. 

<If you were a monster you would likely be dust. You nonchalance at this is deeply troubling, can you not feel the pain?>

“It does hurt. Feels like fire in my chest.”

<And you haven’t slept. I take it you haven’t eaten either. Have you had anything to drink??>

“Sorry.” you murmured, leaning your head against his bony shoulder. 

<No apologizing.> he tutted, shaking his head, <Humans are truly remarkable creatures.>

He laid you down on the bed, propping pillows under your back so you remained upright. Part of you wanted to object to being coddled but another part would have let him do whatever the hell he wanted. Let him dote on you, let him fuss. Whatever made him happy, whatever let him stay.

Which was why you tried to get out of bed to chase after him as he attempted to depart your bedroom, and he rounded on you with an uncommon amount of anger.

<Stay.> he signed sharply, pressing you back down against the bed, one large hand splayed over your chest. <I am only going to be a minute.> His expression softened, <Rest, please. It is my fault you are in this state->

“This isn’t your fault!” you yelled.

<We both know that is far from the truth.>

“Please don’t leave me, I don’t know if this is real, I can’t feel you.” your voice was trembling now.

He leaned down, kissing your forehead. <It is very real, I assure you. I will be right back. Please, stay here.>

“...Kiss me first.” you ordered, eyes hard.

He arched a brow bone at you. <I just did.>

“No, properly.” You were never like this. Needy and burdensome, sure, but it was rare you demanded something of him. But you needed to feel him, to know this wasn’t just a particularly vivid dream. And if you couldn’t sense him with your SOUL, well, this method would suffice.

Gaster was never one to deny you, and so his long fingers slowly curled along your jaw, tiling your face towards him and his skull lowered to meet your lips with his. This was the same, familiar in all the ways his restored form was not, soft lips against hard bone. And when your lips parted in an open invitation he did not waste a second, his tongue delving into your mouth, heatedly gliding over your own.

This was very different.

There was no icy cold. No strange shifting shadows, but a solid warmth, his tongue slick and buzzing with the unmistakable frisson of magic. Like fire whiskey, like a tingle of electricity, lighting your nerves, even your charred SOUL lurched in your chest from shock. 

You squealed a surprised sound at the unexpected sensation, and before you could manage to pull away, his hand swiftly snaked around to the back of your neck, fingers woven through your hair as he cradled your head and kept you firmly in place. Insistently, yet not without tenderness, he kept kissing you, allowing you to feel and understand that he had changed. Even this act, this thing you had loved and found comfort in, would not be the same as it once was. But it was him. Undeniably, it was Gaster, he was here. A tension in your frame relaxed and you finally reciprocated, a tangle of tongues and lips and breath as you felt him sigh in relief.

Slowly he drew back, looking into your eyes, searching for a sign of alarm or discomfort. He wouldn’t find even a hint. 

<Please, let me take care of you.> he signed, fingers carding through your hair.

You relented with a nod, and true to his word Gaster was gone and back in short order, fussing over you once again. He had water that he made you drink, and some nearly expired granola bars he’d raided from the very back of your snack stash, probably the only pre-packaged food he could manage to find that was remotely healthy.

“I’m not hungry.” you murmured.

<You need food if your SOUL is to heal.> holding the opened package out to you sternly.

Reluctantly you ate, the food flavorless and tasting no better than ash.

<I would like to attempt to administer healing magic to your SOUL, if you will allow it.> he signed, sitting next to you on the bed. 

“Your magic is back?” you asked. It should have been obvious, if he was no longer in the void, it would stand to reason his magic would have returned to him.

<I have not yet attempted to utilize any, this will be a field experiment.> he signed with a wry grin, <May I?>

You nodded, and with a wince, drew out your damaged SOUL again. He examined it closely, phalanges hovering over the surface but never making contact with the core of your being.

The ring-shaped pupil in his left eye socket lit up a brilliant ultraviolet shade.

Then, for the first time, you felt Gaster’s magic.

It was completely novel. You were familiar with Sans and Papyrus and how their magic wove about them, but Gaster’s was very far removed from theirs. Very far removed from your own. If Papyrus was a steady stream, you a flame, and Sans a veritable firestorm, Gaster was...highly structured. Rhythmic and orderly. Layers of magic that conformed to perfect, precise arrangements.

It was like music.

Warmth and green light spilled forth from his fingers and you gasped, shuddering as his magic poured directly into your SOUL. Stars that felt so good. Like your SOUL was submerged in warm water, seeping in and soothing all of the damage your outburst of magic had inadvertently wrought. There was a sort of pressure there too, like a firm hug, or being swaddled in warmth. It was hard to translate what your SOUL felt into physical sensations, that magical core just too far removed from the physical matter of nerves and flesh. Those sensations were overwhelming after only a few moments, and you felt Gaster’s hand hold yours after you screwed your eyes shut and tried to remember how to pull air into your lungs properly.

It could have been a few minutes or a few hours by the time his magic abated, your SOUL slipping back into your chest and your breaths a shaky series of pants.

<How do you feel?>

“Mmmelty...” you slurred, “Like goop...” 

He smirked, then stifled a yawn behind a hollow hand, and you watched him, fascinated.

“You’re tired.” you said, awed and wide-eyed.

<It would appear so, yes. I believe I am long overdue for a nap.> he grinned.

You matched it, perhaps a little more conniving. “You’re sleeping here with me.”

<I would think not.> he quickly retorted, his grin slipping quickly into a frown, <You need your rest. I’ll sleep on the couch.>

“Like hell you will.” you responded hotly. You doubted he would even fit without his feet hanging off the end, “You’re staying with me. My house, my rules, and tonight I need my boyfriend here with me.”

He stared with raised brow bones at your declaration, as if waiting for you to correct yourself.

You did not.

<I haven’t any other clothes.> he weakly objected.

“So?”

<I would rather not sleep in this coat.>

“So take it off.” you said, like it was obvious.

<I am not wearing a shirt underneath.>

“Oh.” Was he shy?

<I don’t want make you uncomfortable.>

...Stupid, stupid skeleton.

“Gaster I swear to god, if you don’t get in this bed in the next five seconds I will use my magic on you, I don’t care what state my SOUL is in.” 

He sighed, hastily unbuttoning his lab coat, unbuckling his belt and kicking off his slacks, both carelessly tossed to the floor to reveal boxers with a little bone print pattern. It also revealed his bones, and you couldn’t help your eyes roving over his new (or perhaps old) form. He looked just as one would imagine, an animated skeleton with a broken skull, but it was so very strange to see the monster you’d fallen in love with appear this way.

“Cute.” you commented pointing at his boxers, and he rolled his eyelights. 

<I had to pilfer through my old office in the lab, it would seem everyone forgot it existed when they forgot me. My options for clothing were considerably limited.>

He crawled into bed with you, mattress dipping down with his additional weight, and you situated yourself against him. You didn’t have much choice, he was huge, taking up much of the space.

<Are you sure this is ok? I can wait until you fall asleep and go to the couch.>

“Does this bother you?” you asked, glancing up at his wary eyelights. 

<What do you mean?>

“Am I offending your modesty?”

<Not particularly...I thought you were afraid of skeletons.> 

“Not this one.” you answered simply, fingers lazily trailing over the bones of his arm in a tired sort of fascination. “Never you.” He wore the fondest of smiles then, carefully running his fingers through your messy hair, and you felt your eyelids grow heavy.

“Wanna make it even?” you murmured, words slightly slurred as you fought to stay awake.

You heard him make a sleepy ‘Hmm?’ sound, and felt it through his ribs, a low and deep hum that made a strange heat curl in your belly. 

You reached for the hem of your shirt, grabbing a fistfull of the fabric and tugging it up your body--

Quicker than you could track, his bones clamped around your wrist, pulling your hand right back down, your shirt along with it. Gaster’s skull was a blazing amethyst, and his eyelights were dim little pinpricks.  

<No. That will not be necessary.> You could hear his breath shuddering slightly, and you thought you might have heard a quiet rattle of bones.

“No fun.” you mumbled, rolling onto your side and tucking yourself securely against him. He was, well, bony. Hard and solid against you, perhaps not the most comfortable bedmate. You hardly cared, he was here, you were not alone.

<Will you please sleep now?> he asked, perhaps a little amused and exasperated at your antics.

“‘s long as you’re here, yeah.” you drowsed, words thick. “Thought I lost you.” Your eyes slipped closed and you could no longer read his signs, but you could feel unfamiliar arms made of bones wrap around you, and very familiar lips pressed against your temple. 

“...Love you.”

You were asleep within seconds.

You did not dream.

[mawbwehownets]

72 writing prompt with Jam?

The car is silent. 

They’d borrowed Alex’s, since his had the most space. Tim insisted they wouldn’t need much, anyways, but Jay insisted even harder that he’d rather too much space than too little. Now, the trunk was loaded with sentimental paraphernalia, with everything that meant something to Tim, anything he’d left behind previously but didn’t want to part with.

They’re only some thirty minutes away from Tim’s childhood home, parked by the side of the road, right up against the treeline of Rosswood Park looming over them. Jay had shut off the ignition, and Tim had sat still as a statue, and probably still is, but Jay hasn’t been able to look over and check. 

Those thirty minutes ago, Jay had been just as uneasy, hands tense on the steering wheel where he didn’t know if they would stay or not, staring at the wooden building with mounting dread. It felt like an approximation of a home, like a dilapidated haunted house trying its very hardest to convince you it was a cozy cottage, where even the air held its breath as you moved through it. The silence was almost worse than when it all came crashing down - when the front door flew open and Tim hurried out, over the porch and down the stairs, remaining stone faced as his mother stood in the doorway, yelling at him. 

Jay didn’t register what she said. He only cared for the small motion Tim made with his hand as he entered the car, signaling for Jay to drive. 

“Tim…” Jay starts, and then stops, because he doesn’t know how to continue. He still has one hand gripping the steering wheel, because he doesn’t know where else to put it. He doesn’t know a lot of things. 

Tim remains silent, which is worse than hearing him cry, because it means he’s too scared to let himself be vulnerable. Jay hesitates, before lifting his hand, offering it as an anchor. It takes a moment, but finally, Tim puts his palm in his. Lightly, at first, barely even resting his weight against Jay’s, but then he clutches it tighter, and Jay can feel his fingers shaking as they intertwine with his own, nails barely scraping his skin. He can still see a hint of black here and there, from where Tim had to scrape off the polish he usually wore. When they got to the motel they’d planned to go to, in case things went the way they had, Jay would help him paint it back on. He’s garbage at it, always gets it everywhere, and Tim always pokes fun at him for it - and that’s what Jay wants. He wants something for Tim to laugh at, later. But that’s then. 

Right now, hearing a sniffle to his right, he finally forces himself to look at Tim. He’s trying to keep stern, but despite the tightness of his jaw, his lips are trembling. 

“Tim,” Jay tries again, thumb stroking Tim’s hand. “It’s - ” he wants to say that it’s okay, but it’s not, it’s really fucking not okay - “… It’s over, now. We’re - We’re gone, we’ve left.”

Tim’s breath hitches, still staring forwards, an internal struggle playing out in his eyes. 

“You’ve left. I’m here, you’re - you’re safe.”

A sob breaks free, and then Tim is letting go of his hand to lean into his open arms, hide his face in Jay’s shoulder and clutch at the front of his shirt. Jay holds him - doesn’t say anything, because he doesn’t need to, he just needs to let Tim cry. Maybe let himself cry too, for as long as either of them need. 

He doesn’t know how long that is, exactly, until the dust settles, and Tim lifts his chin again, and the gruff stubble of his sideburns tickles Jay’s jaw where Tim’s cheek brushes against it as he looks at him. Jay looks right back, managing a teary smile as he goes to brush Tim’s bangs back. Tim leans into his hand, briefly closing his eyes with a sigh before leaning back into his seat again, taking a moment to straighten himself up. Jay watches him with a bit lip and worried eyes, still turned around in the driver’s seat. 

“Are you okay? I mean - ” Jay cringes at himself, “compared to how okay one could be in this situation. Where are you, right now, on that scale?" 

Tim snorts, looking back over at Jay, the corner of his lips tugged up in a slight smirk. "I’d say I’m alright, now. On that scale specifically.”

“And on the larger scale?" 

"Larger scale, absolutely fucked.”

Jay snickers despite himself, grabs Tim’s hand to raise it to his lips, press a kiss to the back of it. “Do you wanna… Talk about what happened?" 

Tim sighs, taking to caressing Jay’s cheek. "I mean, there’s not much to talk about. You went out to the car. I was in the kitchen. She was in the hall. Told her I’m gay and you’re my boyfriend. Yelling ensues. I’m disowned. I leave.”

Jay sighs, a silence settling over them as he considers what to say. 

“Good.”

“Hm?" 

"Good, that - that you left. That you’re gone, that it’s over.” Jay meets Tim’s eyes again, his own determined. “You deserve better than worrying about that all the time, deserve better than… God, you just deserve so much better, Tim.”

Tim stares at him, and smiles, resting the palm of his hand against Jay’s neck. “I already have better, Jay. I have Brian and Alex, and Jess, and - and you.” Tim’s voice drops to something tender. “I can’t get any better than you, darling.”

Jay is gripping his wrist at this point, trying to fight back another round of tears. Instead he leans forwards, and meets Tim halfway in a kiss, grounding him back in reality, calming the second wave of emotion. 

“I love you,” Tim says, once they’ve pulled apart just enough to breathe, foreheads pressed together. 

“I love you too,” Jay smiles, pressing a quick, chaste kiss to his lips. 

Tim grins, starts to lean back - “So, wanna-" 

"I’m absolutely not done,” Jay interrupts, pulling him back in for another kiss, and then another, and another, until Tim is laughing too hard for Jay to keep kissing him. 

“Trying to make up for the day’s worth of no kisses?" 

"Yes, actually,” Jay nods, inbetween a kiss to Tim’s cheek. Tim directs Jay back to his mouth with a finger on his chin, before gently pushing him back by the chest. 

“I think you’ll find that easier at the motel, and not in the haunted woods.”

“Ugh, fine,” Jay rolls his eyes, turning the keys in the ignition. As the car starts, he steals a moment to take Tim’s hand, and give it a reassuring squeeze. Tim squeezes back, and smiles, small and genuine, eyes still watery but twinkling with light. Oh, how Jay loves those eyes. 

[justlightlysedated]

i’m gonna get you to burst just like you were a bubble

for @bestillmyslashyheart, just because 💖💖💖

sequel to ‘this one might be a battle, might not turn out okay’

* * *

Michael thinks that maybe he shouldn’t have been surprised when he got to the junkyard and got into the Airstream to find Alex lying back on the bed staring up at the ceiling with a lost look on his face.

He stops as soon as Alex sits up and glares at him as though Michael was the one who sneaked into his cabin while he wasn’t there. Which, granted, has happened, but not the point.

“What are you doing here?” Michael asks letting his hands fall to his sides since he’d been about to pull his shirt off to find a fresh-er one.

Alex shakes his head. “What are you doing here?”

Michael raises an eyebrow and looks around the space, and notes that it looks marginally less dusty than he expected and cleaned up, and that there’s even a guitar on top of the desk that he knows belongs to Alex because he’s seen it in the corner of his bedroom.

Michael furrows his brow and looks back at Alex who shrugs. “You’re never here anymore. You’re at the cabin or in the lab or at the bar.”

Michael gives him a look at that, “That doesn’t explain why you’re here.”

Alex sighs, chews on his lip and then blows out an exasperated air. “I come here when I want to be alone because it’s the only place I know no one will come looking for me.”

He looks at Michael like it’s all his fault that Alex can’t keep his mouth shut, and Michael kind of forgot about the fact that this whole mess happening right now is because Liz accidentally doused everyone with the serum meant to help them channel their emotions easier to give them a power boost.

He also can’t get the look on Alex’s face as he told Michael, You’re the only thing in this whole world that I consider mine, and I’m not going to give you up easily, out of his head.

Michael licks his bottom lip and just watches him.

Alex blinks at him, and then his eyes go a little wide, and he looks away hurriedly, hands clenching on top of his lap.

“Stop looking at me,” he demands, voice shaking a little.

“Why?” Michael asks.

“Because it makes me want things that I can’t have.”

Michael feels his heart skip a beat and sees how Alex tips over on the bed, grabbing the pillow and pulling it over his head.

“Can you please just leave me alone until I get this out of my system? Don’t you think I’ve done enough damage today?” Alex’s voice is muffled, but Michael can hear him clearly.

And still, Michael doesn’t move. He knows he should, knows he should leave Alex alone, and not only because he asked, but also because he can’t control what he says, but-

But Michael needs to know, he needs to know how Alex really feels about him. Because words shouted during a near death experience mean nothing if you can’t say them when there is no danger of dying.

“Alex,” Michael says, and Alex pulls the pillow from over his head and looks at him incredulously, as though he knows exactly what Michael wants to know, as though he can’t believe that Michael doesn’t already know.

Michael inhales deeply and opens his mouth to speak, and then Alex sits up raising a hand in the air to stop him.

He looks at Michael intently for a second before nodding his head.

"Mark me," he says decisively.

"What?" Michael asks blankly.

"I can't lie to you right now,” Alex says and it makes something sharp and painful catch in the back of Michael’s throat. “I want the same thing from you."

“I’ve never lied to you,” Michael says immediately on the offensive.

“I don’t love you,” Alex says bitterly, with a bitter expression. “And lies of omission count, Guerin.”

Michael sighs roughly, scrubbing his hands over his face before he looks at Alex with a lost expression. “I don’t even know if I can.”

“Have you ever tried?” Alex asks, sounding trepidatious.

Michael licks his lips and shakes his head.

“Okay,” Alex says, softly. “I’ve read all of the research Liz has done on you guys, and the way she explains it, it’s almost like-” he cuts himself off and looks away from Michael.

“Almost like you’re reaching inside and leaving a part of yourself behind.”

Michael’s next breath shudders out of him. “Simple then,” he says, and Alex looks back at him, but Michael doesn’t give him an explanation.

He moves and Alex moves over so that there is enough space for him to sit down.

Michael sits as he can without actually touching Alex, and turns to face him.

Alex looks at him, and his lip is trapped between his teeth, as though he’s stopping himself from speaking.

Michael exhales and lifts his hand in the air between them. “Where do you want me to mark you?”

“Everywhere,” Alex says immediately on a breathy exhale, and then shuts his eyes tight and shakes his head.

Michael feels molten heat gather in the pit of his stomach at the thought of Alex having marks that he put on him covering every inch of his skin, but this is not what this is about.

Alex shakes his head again and reaches for Michael’s hand, Michael lets him tug his hand to the side of his neck, and he presses his fingers against his skin, and feels how fast his heart is beating.

Michael licks his lips swallowing. “You know the mark will stay for a few days at least?”

Alex looks at him, and chews his bottom lip hard before he blurts out. “I want everyone to see it. I want everyone to know that I’m-”

He presses his hand over his mouth and shuts his eyes tight, and Michael’s fingers dig into the back of his neck as he shakes him gently.

Alex looks at him apprehensively, and Michael raises an eyebrow. “Want them to know what?”

Alex closes his eyes again, and lets Michael tug his hand away from his mouth.

“That I’m yours,” Alex says like he can’t help it.

Michael digs his fingers harder into the back of his neck, and closes his eyes and concentrates.

He exhales all at once, and doesn’t really have to try to hard to think about reaching inside of Alex, because it’s very nearly impossible not to, especially because Alex is definitely reaching back, and so completely open that when Michael pushes it’s almost too much.

He gasps, mouth falling open as his hand heats up against Alex’s skin, and Alex moans low in his throat, shocked and loud and just like he does only when Michael pushes deep inside of him.

It makes Michael push in closer, his forehead falling to Alex’s, who presses one hand over Michael’s on his throat, locking their fingers together, and slides his other hand into Michael’s hair holding tight.

Michael can feel the connection take hold, but he pushes harder, until he can feel Alex’s heartbeat thundering in his head matching his own.

Michael stops, and Alex’s fingers tighten against his keeping his hand against his neck, and when Michael exhales roughly, Alex inhales sharply.

Michael opens his eyes and Alex is already staring back at him, eyes wide and bright with tears, and Michael had been lying to himself, he’d been lying to himself this whole time, because if he and Alex could find themselves on the same page, Michael knows that he won’t be able to resist falling into him.

It’s taking everything that he has, and the fact that they’re both still too tender from everything that has happened, to resist the pull whenever he sleeps in Alex’s bed, to wake up with Alex wrapped around him and leave, instead of turning around and kissing him awake.

Alex’s breath shudders out of him, and then he lets Michael go, hands dropping to his lap, and Michael moves back, but keeps their knees pressed together.

He watches as Alex blinks a few times and then licks his lips. “How do we know if it worked?”

Michael gives him a look. “Liz didn’t have anything to say in her notes.”

“Liz’s notes were more about how the connection felt during sex, and I really didn’t want to read the rest of it.”

Michael feels the way that his whole body lights up at the thought of having sex with Alex while they’re connected mentally, and sees the way that it affects Alex, how his mouth falls open, and his eyes go a little wide, and how his breathing gets faster.

“Oh,” Alex breathes, and Michael really needs to be sitting somewhere else if they’re actually going to have a conversation and not just fall into bed.

Alex moves then hands reaching for Michael because he’s got Michael’s emotions running through him, and none of his usual self control, and Michael stumbles to standing position and walks to his desk, dropping into the chair.

He looks over to Alex, to see him sitting rigid, with his fists clenched on his lap, and his bottom lip trapped between his teeth, and his eyes shut tight.

“Alex,” he says, and Alex’s entire body snaps to attention.

He looks at Michael, and swallows hard. “Just ask me already what you want to know that can’t possibly wait until-”

“Do you love me?” Michael blurts out, and Alex stops talking to give him an incredulous look.

“Are you serious?” he asks, flatly, looking exasperated.

Michael swallows as he feels the hurt spread through him, and Alex furrows his brow at him, face losing the incredulity.

“Fuck,” he breathes. “You cannot possibly be serious. You have to know that I do. I told you that I did! I even used the same words that you did because I didn’t know how else to say it!”

He stands up, and inhales deeply, and Michael looks up at him trying hopelessly to smother the spark of hope that lights up in his chest.

“I don’t look away, Guerin. I never have. I’ve never tried. I don’t know how. I don’t know how to do what you do and just keep pretending that everything is alright and just keep trying to smother my feelings in someone else. I don’t think anyone else will be able to love you the way that I do. Because no one knows you like I do, and I don’t know how to live knowing that you don’t feel the same about me. That you think someone else will love you better. That you think it will be easier to love someone else, when I can’t even think about fucking someone else, about letting someone else see me like you do because I don’t know how to be with someone that’s not you. I have no defenses when it comes to you, I tried to build a wall around my heart to protect you from myself, because I want anything that you can give me, and everything that you can’t.”

Alex is breathing heavily, and he’s taken steps to cross the small space that Michael tried to put between them, and Michael feels frozen in his chair, his heart thudding hard in chest  and the fact that he can feel Alex like a starburst in the back of his head, the only things that let him know that this is all actually happening.

Alex drops to his knees in front of him, and Michael’s entire body tenses in anticipation.

“You’re mine,” he says voice low, eyes looking up at Michael, wide and honest and a little wild. “And I don’t mean that you’re my family, I mean that you’re my person. The only one that I have. The only one that I can trust with everything, every single part of me and know that you won’t use any of what I give against me.”

He inhales and it makes him tremble, but Michael still can’t seem to do anything but stare. 

“I love you, Michael,” he says and Michael’s heart stops beating. It sounds like a prayer, worshipful, his name falling like a benediction from Alex’s lips. “I’ve always loved you. I’ll always love you, no matter what you decide to do. Even if you decide that it’s not worth it, that I’m not worth it. I’m never going to stop. I don’t know how.”

He shakes his head and swallows, and his eyes are bright with tears, and Michael thinks that maybe he should say something, but for the first time in his life the words he wants to say, are all stuck in his throat, and his mouth is so dry that he can barely swallow, let alone speak.

“But I can learn,” he continues, and Michael feels like someone punched him in the face. “I can learn to pretend that I don’t love you, that I don’t want you every second of everyday, that you’re the only person for me. If you want me to, I’ll back off, and give you the space to fall for someone else if that’s what you need to do to be happy. Michael, I’ll do anything to make you happy, even if it’s not with me, because you deserve it. You deserve the world, and I’ll give it to you. Whatever you want, whatever you need. Just tell me what you want and it’s yours.”

Michael moves and Alex freezes, looking at him with wide wet eyes.

Michael licks his lips and swallows hard, and presses his hands on either side of Alex’s jaw, sliding his fingers to the back of his neck.

Alex shudders in his hold, and Michael leans down, pressing his forehead to Alex’s as he closes his eyes.

He lets the emotions simmering in the back of his head and in his chest and low in his belly overwhelm him, and pushes it all along the connection he can feel between them.

Alex gasps low and needy in the back of his throat, as he presses in close, pressing his forehead harder against Michael’s and his hands are on Michael’s hips, fingers clenched against his belt loops, squeezing tight.

Michael lets the fear and the relief and the hunger and the overwhelming amount of adoration and love that he feels for Alex bleed from him and into Alex.

Alex makes an anxious whining noise low in the back of his throat, and Michael’s eyes flutter open and he looks into Alex’s eyes.

Alex is looking at him like he never looks away, and Michael knows that that’s exactly how he’s looking back at him.

Alex inhales, but before he can say anything else, Michael tightens his fingers against the back of Alex’s neck and into a kiss, answering him in the only way that Alex will understand.

Alex sobs against his mouth and surges up into the kiss, sliding his fingers into Michael’s hair and holding him tight, deepening the kiss.

Michael parts their mouths, and Alex follows his lips, moaning low when Michael doesn’t immediately start kissing him again.

Michael waits until Alex’s eyes flutter open, waits until Alex blinks the dazed look from his face, waits until Alex is focusing on him, completely present in this moment with Michael.

“I love you,” he says, and Alex exhales like he wasn’t expecting the words. 

“And,” he continues, sliding his hand down to Alex’s neck, where the skin feels hotter than the rest of him. “In a few hours, everyone will know that you’re mine.”

Alex swallows hard at that, and Michael can see how his pupils dilate from this close.

“What about Maria?” he breathes, and a flash of pain goes through Michael that causes Alex to pull back a little.

His brow furrows as he tries to figure out what Michael is feeling.

“I’ll talk to her,” Michael says, sliding his hand back into Alex’s hair and pulling him close again. “I’ll tell her everything. I’ll tell her that I’m sorry. I’ll tell her that I love you, that I always have, and that I always will. I’ll tell her that it was a mistake trying to start anything with her when I’ve never been able to get over you.”

“Good,” Alex breathes and then shuts his tight and shakes his head. “When is this thing going to go away?”

Michael licks his lips and shrugs a little. “It’s an untested serum. It might never go away.”

Alex opens his eyes to glare at him, and Michael just smiles back. “But don’t worry, I’ll make sure to keep your mouth too busy to talk.”

And then he seals the promise with a kiss.

[ravenpufff]

Different ways to say “I love you” meme

(since evidently this blog will contain more writing... I figured I’d post this here to conveniently cry over them later).

Word Count: 1,073 (ish)

TW: none? it’s fluffy

Characters:

Alex x Claudia (Uni AU)

Daniel x Beth

Robert x Sam (AU)

@malcolmbrights (and also @infinitelonging cuz she likes our ships :D)

Alex x Cloud (Uni AU)

The dorm bed was narrow already without Claudia there, but Alex couldn’t kick her out now, not when she was asleep next to him. They had fallen asleep post-drunk sex, but he always slept poorly after drinking. He had woken up when a dorm mate down the hall dropped something before quickly shutting the noise into his own dorm room, but Alex couldn’t go back to sleep. He didn’t feel like getting out of bed either. His body was heavy, but his mind was wide awake.

 Alex noticed Claudia flinch in her sleep, and she sort of whimpered the way he’d never seen her do before. He could see her face in the faint street lights outside coming in through the cracks of the blinds on his windows. Her breathing was getting shallow... fearful. Her eyes fluttered open into Alex’s dark room, and they settled onto Alex’s face. She looked vulnerable and she seemed to want to get up and leave, but she was still shaken and catching her breath.

The man reached out slowly, gauging Claudia’s reaction, especially since he knew they were both weird about being touched. She didn’t move away, but she still watched him as she calmed her breathing.

“Shh, it’s just a nightmare,” he comforted her as he cupped her cheek.

He felt her body slowly relax and her breathing even out.

Alex shifted his body to bring Claudia closer. He hugged her tightly, the way she sometimes did when he had a panic attack. He also noticed that he didn’t mind cuddling in that moment, although he usually hated that kind of thing, especially with Claudia. The tenderness was strange coming from him, but she seemed to accept it anyway.

Beth x Dan (Regular verse)

    Beth looked a little worse for wear, but Daniel still couldn’t help but think she looked beautiful. She looked like she had been crying, but he waited for her to say what was on her mind. 

They sat on the roof of his apartment with a 6-pack and a haphazardly laid out blanket. Dan had even fit a makeshift lock over the door to make sure nobody tried to come out there for a smoke or something.

He opened one of the beers and handed Beth one before opening another for himself. He drank deeply and sighed.

“I’m sick of this place,” Beth began.

“This city?” He turned to look at her before taking another sip of his drink.

“Work is bullshit. People are shit all around. Sometimes I wonder why I stick around.”

There was a beat between what Beth said and what Daniel was thinking, and it was coming out of his mouth before he fully realized it.

“I kinda hope you’d want to stick around… because it would suck if you left. I can’t lose you again.”

Beth looked completely taken aback by what he said, and she turned her body towards him.

“Fuck,” Dan muttered under his breath, “Why did I say that?”

He saw his best friend grin then, even though it was still a bit sad.

“Because you’d be lost without me, that’s why.”

He laughed, relieved by her joke. He drank deeply before burping loudly and replying , “You’re completely right about that.”

Sam x Robbie (AU where she gets pregnant before she graduates)

    Robert lounged around in his sweatpants on his day off. He missed Sam, but she seemed busy that day. She hadn’t replied to him all day, and when she did, it was brief. Almost cold. He frowned down at his phone, although the screen had timed out a long time ago. He was sort of willing the damn thing to start ringing.

    He was interrupted by a timid knock at the door instead. He never had visitors, and the only visitor he’d had around lately was Sam. She also had a key, so it didn’t make sense for her to knock.

    Rob rushed to the door and opened it without any hesitation. He was surprised to see Sam there. She looked worried sick about something, and he could see it. She wasn’t very hard to read by now.

    “Hey, babe. Are you okay?”

    He hugged her, but he could feel Sam grow a little stiff in his arms. She looked hesitant to come inside too, and now he was worried.

    Before the door was fully closed behind her, she rambled, “I know this is going to sound crazy, and I hate that this happened -- nonono, I’m happy it happened, but I just didn’t imagine it happening right now--”

    “Are you breaking up with me?” Rob sounded hopelessly sad.

    “What?” Sam looked at him wide eyed, clearly dumbfounded by his question. “No, of course not-- but if you want to after I tell you--”

    “Did you cheat on me?”

    “No… God no. Nononono-- that’s not it at all.”

    “Then, please just tell me. I’ve missed you all day, and you’re being really weird with me.”

    “I missed you too,” Sam sighed, “It’s just-- fuck it, Robbie I’m pregnant… like with your kid.”

    Rob lost the ability to speak for a few seconds, and he looked at her face and then at her not yet swollen belly. “Oh my fucking god… are you pranking me right now? Is this real? I just feel like everything I’m saying right now is all wrong. I’m so sorry.”

    “Are you having a meltdown?” Sam teased, although she was anxious to hear his response.

    “A little, but I’m in no way going to break up with you because you’re pregnant. We did this together. I’m here for you. We’ll figure it out as we go.”

    Sam burst into tears then, hugging him tightly like she always did.

    “Did you think I was some douchebag and gonna leave you pregnant for another hot girl or something?” He laughed, finding humor again, especially in the way they both acted. He kissed her on top of her head and then on her cheek.

    She nodded, now crying and laughing at Robbie’s stupid joke.

    “Sammy, baby. I’ll ask you properly when I’m tenured, but I think we should get married too.”

    She was now sobbing in his arms, his shirt getting drenched with her tears. He felt her nod against his body, and he smiled at her response.

    “I love you, and we’re going to be okay.”

    “I love--” she sniffled, “I love you too.”

[jj-lynn21]

The Calling ch 5

Warnings: SMUT, drinking, outcome is readers preference.

ch 1, ch 2, ch 3, ch 4

The email for your next day of filming calls for an 80s look. Somehow you found just the look and a few other outfits just in case. They also sent a message looking for sports cars from 1984 and before that could be used in a street race scene. Your car isn’t brand new but its not that old.

You go through the usual process checking in when you get to holding. You even help some others that are there for the first time. It is a huge seen. One hundred people in an auditorium to get clothing checked. Some are going to play other street gang members in this street race. You are there to be a spectator to the whole thing. None of the usual suspects you hang with are there so other than Dan, the P.A. and Shelly who signed you in, you don’t recognize anyone. You sit in the auditorium and chat with some people that ask you questions about your other experiences.

After everyone is checked in and they have on what they need to be wearing for the scene everyone goes to the regular holding area where breakfast burritos are waiting. There is also pastries, donuts, bagels, fruit, juice, milk, pop, tea and coffee with creamers.  You sit with the few people you started talking to in the auditorium. Hours pass with no word of when your scene will be shot. Lunch burritos are severed with French fries for lunch. The people around you start asking about when you think filming will start.

“They will come get us when they are ready,” You tell them. “We get paid for sitting here chatting and playing games on our phones so it’s probably the easiest ten dollars an hour you will ever make.”

You see dusk fall out the window. Dan walks in with a clip board and goes over to Shelly and talks to her for a few minutes. A few people walk up to them to ask about filming. Dan gets a call on the walkie.

“Ok everyone please follow me outside.” Dan said.  “It’s a warm evening so no jackets. We want to see those 80s looks.”

He leads everyone down the stairs. Through the back of the building. And outside to wear several cars sit. A buzz comes over the crowd as you see Robert Pattinson leaning again a red Toyota Supra.

“Those here with there to be gang members go talk to Harry holding the white flag.” Dan said. “The rest of you follow me. Remember you have to stay quiet during shooting.”

He lines everyone up three people deep on either side of the race path.

“All you do is cheer as loud as you can when you here action,” Dan said.

“Action,” you here.

You scream and holler as the cars get pulled down the race path through the street by contraptions that hold cameras that capture the actors inside. They aren’t going fast by any stretch of the imagination, but it is interesting to watch and react to. That is filmed a dozen times or more. Before Robert switches places with his body double stunt man. The contraption is taken off the car. The real race begins as the stunt drivers spreed around the area. Screeching tires and smoke fill your senses.

Your eyes are red and watery as the director and others scream, “IT’S A WRAP!”

Everyone is escorted back to holding to sign out. You sign out, grab your bag and head to the bathroom to freshen up for the wrap party if you can find it at twelve-thirty in the morning. You put on one of the less over the top 80s outfits you brought. A form fitted pair of dark blue jegging with a hot pink baby doll style top that shows just a bit of cleavage.

You put the address in your gps to find your way. Its easy to spot right as you make the last turn. The sign says, closed for private party. A DJ is playing some top forty hit as you walk inside and look around. There is a guy a few steps inside making sure no random people get in.

“Sorry Miss,” he said stopping you with his hand. “Private event tonight.”

“I worked on the movie,” You said.

He smirks, “Got some proof of that darlin’?”

“I can show you my…” you look through your small purse that was in your overnight bag with your cloths for the day to find your pay slip.

“Hey Charlie, she’s cool,” You look up to see your favorite actor with their favorite drink in hand. “Let me buy you a drink.”

You gather yourself upright as you walk over to them. “Thanks,” You smile. Your person smiles back at you.

“Anything she wants Tony,” they tell the bar tender.

You order your favorite drink. You see mostly crew people chatting at tables. Drinking the workday away. Your favorite actor puts their hand on your back.

“Come on, we are all over on the couches.” They say and you walk along.

“Hey,” They all say in unison as you walk over. They hold their drinks in the air. All smiling with that little bit of tipsiness already gleaming in their eyes.

“Hi,” You say as your favorite person pulls you down to sit with them.

“Has anyone figured out what this bloody movie is truly about yet?” Tom asked the group. “They never sent me a full script or told me more than my specific part. I had a good time filming with you though.” He looks to you and winks. You blush and take a drink.

“Of course, they aren’t going to tell you anything, Tom.” Sebastian laughed. “The only one worse than you at keeping movie secrets is Mark. How about shots all around?”

He snaps his fingers. A bouncy red head in a black dress comes over to ask what we all need. He orders a round of Jägermeister shots for everyone which includes you, Tom Holland, Sebastian Stan, Bill Skarsgard, Alex Skarsgard, Anna Paquin, Stephen Moyer and Robert Pattinson.

You are sitting, chatting, drinking, doing shots with all these people because you must have own some lottery you have no clue you even entered you think to yourself as you listen to them chat about traveling here and other more interesting things about life and past acting experiences. Your head spins as you get more intoxicated along with everyone else. How the Hell did you even get to this point you think to yourself but then you decide to add to the conversation about work history when someone bring up the vampire topic.

“Other than four vampires here. There are also five superheroes.” You laugh.

Bill said, “Pattinson doesn’t count as a Vampire and I was an umpire. Completely different species.”

“It does count,” He looks to you for confirmation. “Just ask her.”

Maybe you completely agree with him that his version of a vampire in current society was indeed a perfectly sexy depiction.

Maybe you don’t agree with him. Instead going towards a thought of a more brutal, crazed, bi-sexual, sensual monster.

Bill said, “Roman wasn’t bi-sexual not that there would have been anything wrong with that.”

“Roman totally wanted to fuck Peter,” You blurted out. “Check the on-line fanbase Bill.”

He chuckles, “Are those the same people that want to bang the clown?”

“No, that’s a completely different group but there is probably a group within both those fan groups that think Peter and Roman were in love and also want to bang Pennywise.” You laugh. “If you only knew.”

“Oh, I know.” He grins.

“Ok, fangbangers, clownfuckers aside, I only count three superheroes here,” Anna said.

Tom said, “And I only count two. So, how is your count five, love? Maybe you had one to many shots?”

“I’m great.” You slightly slurred your words which everyone else was doing. “Not sure about takin an Uber all the way home and getting back to pick my car up but that’s future me’s problem.” You laughed “Anyway, Tom and Sebastian are avengers. Anna is part of the X-Men. Bill was part of X-force. And Rob is filming Batman shortly, correct?”

“That’s correct,” Robert said. “Because the world needs more batman movies” He chuckles.

Everyone laughs.

Your person whispers to you, “No need to take an uber all the way home Sweetie. You can spend the night with me(us). I’ll have someone get your car to hotel. If you really want to that is?”

You just nod yes. The sun is coming up by the time you stumble out of the club with your favorite person(s). You make out like crazy in the back of the car as soon as the door shuts. Its sweaty messy slobbery kisses and groping, heavy breathing since you were holding back so much inside the club and you are both drunk. But you would be doing this with this person(s) sober.

The morning is a blur of body parts slapping, multiple orgasms and pure enjoyment from what you could remember when you woke to an empty hotel room. There were flowers, breakfast and a note on a table in the room. You read the note.

          Sorry, I had to catch a flight (home or) to my next production before you               woke. I’m so glad I (we) met you love. I hope to get back here again. Feel           free to text me. 555-657-5544 talk to you soon. You have the room the                 rest of the day so no need to rush yourself. 

                                                                                                                                                                                                                           Forever always,

                                                                                                                                                                                                                                  Your lover

You just smile to yourself. Eat the breakfast on the table and get ready to go home.

[sgt-morgan]

Tell Me A Story (Hozier x Reader).

This is honestly just straight fluffy fluff so enjoy x

You’re laying in bed, a long day has passed you by and you can feel the exhaustion in your very bones. You sigh as you shove the pillow into a position that you hope can somewhat dim the light aches in your body, your (y/h/c) hair fanning out around your head and slightly covering your eyes from your position on your stomach. Suddenly there’s a hand brushing the hair from your tired eyes and you close them, reveling in the gentle touch. “Hey, you alright?” The soft voice fills you with comfort, the baritone timbre, the Irish lilt, it seems to further soothe you as you fall closer and closer to rest. You groan, a fitting response in your opinion as you attempt to sink further into your bed. You hear the breathy chuckle coming from above and a little nudge to your ribs. “Budge up Love, you’re hogging the bed.” You groan again, the idea of movement deeply disturbing you. You do it anyway. “Thank you.” Suddenly your enveloped in warmth, large hands shifting you into a sturdy chest, long legs tangling with yours, a sweet kiss planted to your forehead. You sigh, contented. You lay there listening to the steady beat of his heart, the light breath that falls from his lips.

You speak. “ How was your gig?” You say, your version of polite conversation? Or an excuse to hear his voice. You haven’t decided. “Oh fine, The set list was a little different tonight though, we did Eden before Nina tonight, I didn’t like the idea but Alex urged us to give it a shot.” He sighed “I wasn’t a fan.” He stopped and you could feel the want for more. Usually, talking about his shows, you couldn’t get him to stop talking, but tonight he seemed to want to let it pass. You looked up at him, your (y/e/c) orbs staring into his and whispered. “Tell me a story.” Andrew looked confused, “what do you mean?” He looked As if you had asked him jump out a window. “ You heard me,” you urged, “Tell me a story about anything, I just want to hear you talk.” Andrew looked down at you for a couple more seconds, looking to see if you were being serious. “Please.” You urge, he sighs.

“Alright, I got one. I think the pomegranate was Persephone idea.” You settle farther into his chest and close your eyes, contented. “ I think she was tired of the world she was sheltered in, I think, that she was lonely. She lived on the surface, her only companions the fleeting mortals and her mother. I bet that the underworlds enterance was close to her favorite place. A tree? Her Garden? A field of wild flowers? Who knows. But, I know that the vibrant life was abruptly cut off by the doors, a harsh and brutal juxtaposition against her vibrant light, and it was exciting. Something she had never seen, the darkness excited her. She would stare for hours and hours trying to understand what could be on the other side. That’s when she sees him for the first time. He’s nothing she’s ever seen before. A harshness to him, a coldness, but an unmistakable beauty too. Something that seemed to call out to her to lay down forever. However, I would wager that it wasn’t his first time seeing her, Hades that is. He’d seen her alright. Her vibrant life, the beauty that surrounded her, the innocence, intruiged him. Then they met, and fell in love quickly, chaotically. They fell in love, but they couldn’t be together, she had a duty to the mortals. Summer, endless prosperity. Her very name Kore; Purity, a testimony to her work. Her inability to stay with him. He couldn’t take away such beauty and store it with him, below, in the darkness. That, he would think, would be worse than death. Or so he thought. The thought of taking such beauty broke his heart. She knew the rumors, the consequences of eating his sickeningly sweet fruits. Their bitter intentions, that’s why she only at six seeds. Olympus was furious, so we’re the mortals. Demeter was enraged. But Hades? Persephone? They were happy, so as Kore’s name changed to Persephone, the destroyer, as the first winter plagued the mortals, Persehone and Hades felt, for the first time, the sweet tender embrace of spring. Far below, they finally felt at home.”

You drift of as he finishes his story, looking down at you to see if you enjoyed it. He is greeted with your eyes slowly fluttering shut, your breath evening out. He smiles content to see you resting comfotably. “Goodnight my love,” he whispers, “ Thank you for saving this Hades.” He shifts the blankets and makes sure they cover you both. Then he too, falls deep into sleep