stunted {alex/addison}; smile, you're on candid camera {bb11 - jeff/jordan}
Things I wrote today:
Title: Stunted
Fandom: Grey's Anatomy
Characters/Pairings: Alex/Addison.
Rating: PG-13
Word Count: 159
Author's Note: Originally going to be for ga_angst_battle, but it's past the due date and not long enough.
Summary: Set Season 3/4. Even I'm not sure. Sometimes, she's convinced he'll never truly grow up; there's too much back and forth.
“Thought you and Sloane - “
Addison cuts his sentence short with her lips, her teeth on his lower lip when she pulls back, says, “He needs to grow up.”
He laughs against her skin, his mouth moving from her neck down between her bare breasts, and her hands make imprints along his shoulders, impermanent. Like this, it’ll likely all be gone tomorrow. “And me?”
“I’m not sure you’ll ever grow up, Karev,” she says, his last name coming to her lips before his first, and not for the first time she realizes that part of this is about the knowledge that she is very much his superior. It adds a little something to the situation, the sliding of skin against skin. “But at least you’re up front about it.”
(A year later, she hears he got married, and it’s funny how life works -
she pours herself another cup of coffee and listens to the sound of a silent house)
---
Title: Smile, You're On Candid Camera
Fandom: Big Brother 11
Characters/Pairings: Jeff/Jordan
Rating: PG-13
Word Count: 521
Author's Note: For the small fandoms and rare pairings meme.
Summary: And he thought the paranoia would go away once they were out of the house. No matter -- he's getting used to being wrong.
Jeff’s finally got the door closed and her body underneath his, and of course she chooses now to actually talk.
Her fingers press into his shoulders, a signal that she wants him to move, he’s just confused about the direction until she starts to sit up. “You’re sure there aren’t any cameras here?”
“Jordan,” he draws her name out, sounds like he’s more exasperated than he is. At least normally - this time might be a lie. They have been in that house for a long few months. “You asked them. I asked them.”
Even in the dark, he can make out the ridiculous look she’s giving him. “Excuse me for having a hard time believing what people say anymore. For all we know that’s just what they want us to think, and they’re going to use it as a…ratings thing or something.”
“Ratings stunt,” he corrects, elaborates, whatever. He can feel her sigh, unhappily at that, so he adds, “There’s no cameras. We’d know if there were. They never hid them before.”
He gets closer than last time, lips inches from hers, but she places a hand on his chest this time, and he has to fight not to groan in frustration. The urge is suppressed the minute he hears her voice, smaller than before, less demanding and more worried, “I don’t want to be another Lydia. Can you imagine what people are going to think of her when she gets out of here?”
“You’re not another Lydia,” he cuts in, before she’s even got the last syllable of her sentence out. The hand that rests on her hip comes up to skim her side, absentminded, and the movements of his fingers make her shiver underneath him. “I wouldn’t be sleeping with her anyways.”
“Because she’s too easy right?” And she’s looking at him dead in the eye; he doesn’t need to have his contacts in to know that. She says it like she needs to believe that, that he’s a good person, and more than that that she is.
Instead of the serious answer, the one that slips out is, “Too many tattoos. Doesn’t do it for me.”
She hits him in the shoulder, and he laughs over the “ow”, and she’s laughing too when she says, “Seriously.”
“Okay, you’re right.” He says, the equivalent of saying ‘uncle’ in this situation, and she pulls him down closer to kiss him, soft and meaningful. It’s her agreement; she’s all in. When they break apart, shifting positions, he takes the opportunity to add, “Besides, all anyone’s probably seen was that time with Ronnie in the room running his fucking mouth.”
The comment doesn’t have the desired effect. “What? You think they showed that?”
“It was funny,” he defends.
“Jeff,” she half complains, half whines, but he kisses her again, and this time doesn’t let them break apart for long enough that either of them can say anything of substance. Her hands slip along the waistband of his pants, and he gets his underneath her shirt, and he thinks for a brief moment that it just might’ve been worth getting evicted for this.
Title: Stunted
Fandom: Grey's Anatomy
Characters/Pairings: Alex/Addison.
Rating: PG-13
Word Count: 159
Author's Note: Originally going to be for ga_angst_battle, but it's past the due date and not long enough.
Summary: Set Season 3/4. Even I'm not sure. Sometimes, she's convinced he'll never truly grow up; there's too much back and forth.
“Thought you and Sloane - “
Addison cuts his sentence short with her lips, her teeth on his lower lip when she pulls back, says, “He needs to grow up.”
He laughs against her skin, his mouth moving from her neck down between her bare breasts, and her hands make imprints along his shoulders, impermanent. Like this, it’ll likely all be gone tomorrow. “And me?”
“I’m not sure you’ll ever grow up, Karev,” she says, his last name coming to her lips before his first, and not for the first time she realizes that part of this is about the knowledge that she is very much his superior. It adds a little something to the situation, the sliding of skin against skin. “But at least you’re up front about it.”
(A year later, she hears he got married, and it’s funny how life works -
she pours herself another cup of coffee and listens to the sound of a silent house)
---
Title: Smile, You're On Candid Camera
Fandom: Big Brother 11
Characters/Pairings: Jeff/Jordan
Rating: PG-13
Word Count: 521
Author's Note: For the small fandoms and rare pairings meme.
Summary: And he thought the paranoia would go away once they were out of the house. No matter -- he's getting used to being wrong.
Jeff’s finally got the door closed and her body underneath his, and of course she chooses now to actually talk.
Her fingers press into his shoulders, a signal that she wants him to move, he’s just confused about the direction until she starts to sit up. “You’re sure there aren’t any cameras here?”
“Jordan,” he draws her name out, sounds like he’s more exasperated than he is. At least normally - this time might be a lie. They have been in that house for a long few months. “You asked them. I asked them.”
Even in the dark, he can make out the ridiculous look she’s giving him. “Excuse me for having a hard time believing what people say anymore. For all we know that’s just what they want us to think, and they’re going to use it as a…ratings thing or something.”
“Ratings stunt,” he corrects, elaborates, whatever. He can feel her sigh, unhappily at that, so he adds, “There’s no cameras. We’d know if there were. They never hid them before.”
He gets closer than last time, lips inches from hers, but she places a hand on his chest this time, and he has to fight not to groan in frustration. The urge is suppressed the minute he hears her voice, smaller than before, less demanding and more worried, “I don’t want to be another Lydia. Can you imagine what people are going to think of her when she gets out of here?”
“You’re not another Lydia,” he cuts in, before she’s even got the last syllable of her sentence out. The hand that rests on her hip comes up to skim her side, absentminded, and the movements of his fingers make her shiver underneath him. “I wouldn’t be sleeping with her anyways.”
“Because she’s too easy right?” And she’s looking at him dead in the eye; he doesn’t need to have his contacts in to know that. She says it like she needs to believe that, that he’s a good person, and more than that that she is.
Instead of the serious answer, the one that slips out is, “Too many tattoos. Doesn’t do it for me.”
She hits him in the shoulder, and he laughs over the “ow”, and she’s laughing too when she says, “Seriously.”
“Okay, you’re right.” He says, the equivalent of saying ‘uncle’ in this situation, and she pulls him down closer to kiss him, soft and meaningful. It’s her agreement; she’s all in. When they break apart, shifting positions, he takes the opportunity to add, “Besides, all anyone’s probably seen was that time with Ronnie in the room running his fucking mouth.”
The comment doesn’t have the desired effect. “What? You think they showed that?”
“It was funny,” he defends.
“Jeff,” she half complains, half whines, but he kisses her again, and this time doesn’t let them break apart for long enough that either of them can say anything of substance. Her hands slip along the waistband of his pants, and he gets his underneath her shirt, and he thinks for a brief moment that it just might’ve been worth getting evicted for this.