(no subject)
Four requests filled in order of my muse wanting to work.
For mellowdee:
Title: This Side of Paradise
Pairing: Addison/Derek
Rating: PG
Prompt: Snow.
Word Count: 557
It was snowing. Her friends complained about it, said it was cold and wet and it was awful to have to drive in, but they never seemed to mind the cuddling they received from their respective boyfriends or girlfriends after they came back inside from shoveling out their cars sporting bright rosy cheeks and red noses and adorable sniffles. She had no one to pull outside to spin in circles with her and catch snowflakes and throw snowballs (and miss) so she bundled up and went outside herself, determined to enjoy the snow before it melted a little and froze into the sheets of ice that made her want to find her ice skates she hadn’t put on since she was thirteen.
She walked the few blocks from her apartment to Central Park and found herself hit by a stray snowball from an all-male fight. They all apologized but she merely grinned and bent over and made a perfect snowball and threw it at the man who hit her. Everyone began to laugh at him and suddenly she was in their game and, after several of them found themselves with snowy and cold necks, was no longer treated like a girl. She declined their invitation to join them at the neighborhood bar, thanked them for the great afternoon and said maybe some other time; she recognized two of them from her organic chemistry lab though could not for the life of her remember their names.
When she thought they were out of sight, she spun around with her arms out and caught snowflakes on her tongue and giggled and flopped down in a snow bank under a tree. She lifted her head to see who had stolen the other half of her snow bank, expecting to see a child.
“My hat fell off,” he explained his return.
She smiled widely. “You’re the guy who hit me.”
He shrunk into his coat, embarrassed. “Yeah. I’m sorry about that.”
She grinned and sat up fully and offered him her snowy and gloved hand. “It was worth it. I’m Addison.”
“Derek.” He returned her smile. “Why are you out here alone? It’s beautiful.”
“My roommates think the only good thing about winter is cuddling under blankets with their boyfriends.”
“Then where’s yours?’
Addison laughed. “He doesn’t exist.” She shook her head, still smiling, having long gotten used to the idea that she might be perpetually single and have many cats when she got older.
Derek tilted his head, confused as to how a woman so beautiful and so fun as her could be single. “Not a girl to be tied down?” He put on his forgotten hat and made a face; he took it off again and shook out the snow from the inside, making it worse.
“I like to think I’m too cool. Why, are you interested?” She asked with a smirk, trying not to laugh at how goofy he looked playing with his hat.
He thought for a split second. “It depends.”
“On what?”
“How well you cuddle.” He smirked back at her, unsure whether her reaction was a blush or just cold cheeks.
She balled up some snow and threw it at him, not caring where she hit him. “You’re on,” she smiled after he cleared the snow off of the collar of his jacket.
For paintedrainbows:
Title: Something Wicked This Way Comes
Pairing: Addison/Alex
Rating: NC-17
Prompt: Alcohol
Word Count: 894
He stared at the note she left in his locker. An address and two words: no strings. He found the bar across town and spotted her through the sweaty crowd, her red hair would stand out against anything except fire. He sat next to her and motioned for the bartender to place a double vodka shot in front of him, intending to catch up to her. She smiled at him and licked her lips, expertly throwing back another shot. They both knew they would never be doing this if they weren’t at that bar, together, right then, with ten empty shot glasses between the two of them. They didn’t care.
“Follow me,” she lowered her eyelids, leaving her mouth slightly open.
She grabbed his hand and weaved them across the room and into the women’s bathroom. He smirked as they passed one of the middle stalls, knowing exactly what was going on there, and was tugged suddenly into the stall at the end. She slid the lock shut and pushed him up against the stall door, bracing her arms on either side of him, kissing him strongly, parting his lips with her tongue without any formalities.
She smelled like cigarettes and tasted like tequila and for once he didn’t mind that he was the one pushed against the wall. Her entire body molded against his, trapping him against the door with graffiti declaring undying love engraved in the peeling paint. He opened his mouth, slipping his tongue around hers, tangling his hands in her hair. A small moan escaped his lips when she untucked his shirt and ran her hands up his chest; he wasted no time in doing the same, raising his eyebrows at the realization that she wasn’t wearing a bra though didn’t have time to wonder how; she gently bit his bottom lip, reminding him, and he rolled her nipples between his fingers, eliciting a gasp from her in return.
He took her break in concentration and flipped them around so she was against the wall, smirking at her surprise before switching his attention to her neck. She silently applauded herself for wearing an easy-access skirt and fumbled with his belt. Her concentration dissolved as he hit a particularly sensitive spot and she moaned, arching her back and pushing her breasts further into his hands. He grinned into her skin and gently nibbled at her collarbone, licking the spot with his tongue.
The belt finally unbuckled, she focused on scraping her nails down his back under his shirt, moaning and pushing her breasts into his hands. He grinned into her skin and gently nibbled at her collarbone, licking the spot with his tongue. Getting the idea that she wanted it rough and hot, he pinched a nipple one last time, eliciting a loud moan from her, and slid a hand down her body to the hem of her skirt. She spread her legs a little wider as his fingers pushed up the fabric and toyed with the edge of her thong.
Someone hit the wall of the stall next to them and groaned with the unmistakable sound of clothing clumsily being removed and he absently wondered if the room shouldn’t be renamed. But then her hands found their way into his pants and he threw all thoughts that weren’t of sex out of his head and thrust two fingers into her, thumb brushing her clit the moment he spread some of her wetness around. Inhaling sharply, she closed her eyes tightly, trying not to be too loud when he pushed another finger in and sped up, curling and twisting his fingers in ways that made her knees weak.
“Damn, woman,” he breathed into her ear before swirling his tongue around her earlobe and sucking down her neck. He held her, slid an arm around her back for support and increased the pressure on her clit, feeling her get close and pulled away just before she came. Shaking his head at her glare, he pulled her panties down around her ankles and she stepped out of them, shoving them in the back pocket of his pants. He looked at her, pure need, and pushed his jeans and boxers down and a sexy smile replaced the frustration when he pushed her skirt up and cupped his hands around her thighs and lifted her up.
Legs instinctively wrapping around his back, she dropped a hand between them to guide him into her. She was wet enough and he was too far gone to wait and she didn’t care that his thrusts were immediate and strong. First one finger between them, then two, and she rubbed her clit, pushing back in time with him. It was quick and it was fast and it was hard and when she felt him come inside of her she was sent over the edge too and he didn’t stop until she came twice.
Disheveled and glowing, she carefully untangled herself from him, smiling gratefully as he kept an arm around her until her legs were no longer shaking. She smoothed out her skirt and adjusted her shirt, and he pulled his pants up again and decided to leave the shirt untucked. He handed her back her panties and she shook her head with a smirk and he shrugged happily and put them in his pocket.
“Thank you,” she whispered.
For rainblows:
Title: Flow My Tears, The Policeman Said
Pairing: Addison/Mark
Rating: PG
Prompt: Addison/Anyone. "On fallen angels and broken sounds, we will last past the final round."
Word Count: 575
“Enough.” She speaks softly to dark and empty air and ignores the shadows cast around her from the storm and wind outside. “Get up.” She tells herself and her lower back is screaming for her legs to listen to her lips because it is beginning to hurt and will only get worse. She braces herself on the two walls on either side of her corner and pushes up, standing straight as she fights off a small bout of vertigo. She stands up tall and confident and brushes her hair out of her face as if she sat in the corner of a room full of furniture-shaped dust covers all the time and it was quite natural indeed. She makes a move to wipe away tears but smiles instead, that night marking her success. She walks away from the corner she does not need anymore and strides across the room, owning it and telling the thunder and lightning that she is strong and does not flinch as the street lights flicker in time with a boom she feels through the floor.
Her heels click on the hardwood floor, a steady cadence that is not lost in the noise of the storm, and she picks up her cell phone with its one bar of battery and two bars of signal and holds down the number three. She paces impatiently as the ring threatens to turn to voicemail and she checks her watch and mentally accounts for time zones and decides it is dinner time for him and that is why she is listening to his mechanical and polite voice requesting her to leave a detailed message and a phone number.
“Derek, it’s Addison. I thought you’d like to know that the buyers closed on the brownstone today and we got our full asking price. It’ll be split straight down the middle, our lawyers will deal with all the paperwork.” She pauses and takes a breath, making it a short one so as to not run out of time. “Tell everyone I said hi. Take care.” She hangs up and nods and slips the phone into her purse and tells it to shut up as it begins beeping its low battery signal.
She opens her black umbrella before she is even completely out the door and locks it for the last time, dropping the key in the box attached to the front door. Her heels make tiny splashes on the sidewalk as she makes her way to her car and slips in. She frowns at the water that inevitably spills in and drives off without looking back. She blindly changes the CD to something more rain-appropriate and turns up the volume as she heads across town, two last boxes in her trunk to unpack and call herself officially moved in with him.
He meets her at the curb, for she calls him before she turns onto their street so he could help, and is soaking wet but smiles through it and manages to be nearly irresistible she almost takes him right there on the sidewalk. But she restrains herself and pops the trunk and takes the lighter of the two boxes and wrinkles her nose at the rain that splashes off the trunk as he slams it shut. She smiles when she notices that the cute, yet forgetful, grandmother of a landlady has finally changed the names next to the apartment numbers so number twenty-one now reads “Sloan/Montgomery.”
For daynawashere:
Title: Our Mutual Friend
Pairing: Addison/Finn
Rating: PG-13/R
Prompt: Prom.
Word Count: 731
“I’m really sorry about Doc,” Finn comes up behind you to refill his punch glass.
You smile, feigning sad. You never really liked the dog. “Thanks. At least my shoes will go uneaten now?” You clink your plastic glass to his because it seems like the thing to do and make a face at the sugary and…red taste of the drink. He agrees with you without you needing to say anything.
He catches your arm as you turn to speak to someone else in the spirit of working the room and you look at him, confused. You then follow his gaze and see Meredith Grey and your husband walking as quickly as her heels will allow around a corner - together - trailing Callie Torres. Whispers of Izzie Stevens and Denny Duquette fill the air. Finn looks at you, a painful sadness and a realization across his eyes and soon it jumps to yours. You are both hurt and it took the same two people to hurt both of you and you’re shocked to see a flash of anger cross his face. Not anger at you, but at the world, anger you share, anger for screwing over what could have been happiness. Again.
You need air and leave in a hurry, secretly hoping he will follow you but obviously hope it isn’t an obvious hope. The brick wall is cold and the air is colder and goosebumps cover your arms immediately but you just close your eyes and breathe in through your nose and out through your mouth. You know that your marriage has been over long before you even considered cheating on him and you are perversely glad that you have physical evidence now; evidence that the months of effort have been in vain, something to say rather than feelings.
Your (ex)vet is standing in front of you and is asking if you are okay. You can’t help but think what a stupid question that is and you open one eye and sardonically ask him if he’s okay. He takes your point but instead of leaving like you don’t want he kisses you like you didn’t know you wanted.
His lips are soft against yours and his tongue is gentle, his hands come up to cup your cheeks and they are comforting and smooth. You kiss him back, a little harder than he is kissing you, and he smiles into your lips and matches your intensity. You aren’t sure who pulls back first but you’re both breathing hard and there’s that cloud in his eyes that you’re sure is in yours as well that says that he might like you, but tonight is not the night to decide. You nod and smile a smile that says that you know sex would only complicate things more than they ever could be, but it might be the best thing for you tonight.
He takes your hand and leads you to your car and you don’t care that your jacket and your purse are locked in your office and the only thing you have is your driver’s license and ten dollars hooked into a garter on your right leg; a habit leftover from college. You smile and drive in your four-inch stilettos and follow him to his place.
You are comforted, as he unzips your dress and whispers how gorgeous you are, that you somehow know that he never slept with Meredith. This seems so much more fitting, so much more perfect, and he pulls you into bed with him and pays attention to every part of your body and all you think of are hands and tongues and skin and how they feel against each other. When he finally slides into you, the beautiful sensation of knowing how right and how wrong this is makes everything that much clearer and crisper and better.
You sneak out in the morning before he’s awake and leave a note, a promise to return the boxers and shirt within the week. You drive home to find your husband’s girlfriend’s panties in his suit jacket and don’t regret a thing. When you do return the boxers and shirt with a smile, the two of you make plans for lunch because you might like each other but you silently promise to never mention prom night again. Because neither of you knows whether it was revenge or comfort.
For mellowdee:
Title: This Side of Paradise
Pairing: Addison/Derek
Rating: PG
Prompt: Snow.
Word Count: 557
It was snowing. Her friends complained about it, said it was cold and wet and it was awful to have to drive in, but they never seemed to mind the cuddling they received from their respective boyfriends or girlfriends after they came back inside from shoveling out their cars sporting bright rosy cheeks and red noses and adorable sniffles. She had no one to pull outside to spin in circles with her and catch snowflakes and throw snowballs (and miss) so she bundled up and went outside herself, determined to enjoy the snow before it melted a little and froze into the sheets of ice that made her want to find her ice skates she hadn’t put on since she was thirteen.
She walked the few blocks from her apartment to Central Park and found herself hit by a stray snowball from an all-male fight. They all apologized but she merely grinned and bent over and made a perfect snowball and threw it at the man who hit her. Everyone began to laugh at him and suddenly she was in their game and, after several of them found themselves with snowy and cold necks, was no longer treated like a girl. She declined their invitation to join them at the neighborhood bar, thanked them for the great afternoon and said maybe some other time; she recognized two of them from her organic chemistry lab though could not for the life of her remember their names.
When she thought they were out of sight, she spun around with her arms out and caught snowflakes on her tongue and giggled and flopped down in a snow bank under a tree. She lifted her head to see who had stolen the other half of her snow bank, expecting to see a child.
“My hat fell off,” he explained his return.
She smiled widely. “You’re the guy who hit me.”
He shrunk into his coat, embarrassed. “Yeah. I’m sorry about that.”
She grinned and sat up fully and offered him her snowy and gloved hand. “It was worth it. I’m Addison.”
“Derek.” He returned her smile. “Why are you out here alone? It’s beautiful.”
“My roommates think the only good thing about winter is cuddling under blankets with their boyfriends.”
“Then where’s yours?’
Addison laughed. “He doesn’t exist.” She shook her head, still smiling, having long gotten used to the idea that she might be perpetually single and have many cats when she got older.
Derek tilted his head, confused as to how a woman so beautiful and so fun as her could be single. “Not a girl to be tied down?” He put on his forgotten hat and made a face; he took it off again and shook out the snow from the inside, making it worse.
“I like to think I’m too cool. Why, are you interested?” She asked with a smirk, trying not to laugh at how goofy he looked playing with his hat.
He thought for a split second. “It depends.”
“On what?”
“How well you cuddle.” He smirked back at her, unsure whether her reaction was a blush or just cold cheeks.
She balled up some snow and threw it at him, not caring where she hit him. “You’re on,” she smiled after he cleared the snow off of the collar of his jacket.
For paintedrainbows:
Title: Something Wicked This Way Comes
Pairing: Addison/Alex
Rating: NC-17
Prompt: Alcohol
Word Count: 894
He stared at the note she left in his locker. An address and two words: no strings. He found the bar across town and spotted her through the sweaty crowd, her red hair would stand out against anything except fire. He sat next to her and motioned for the bartender to place a double vodka shot in front of him, intending to catch up to her. She smiled at him and licked her lips, expertly throwing back another shot. They both knew they would never be doing this if they weren’t at that bar, together, right then, with ten empty shot glasses between the two of them. They didn’t care.
“Follow me,” she lowered her eyelids, leaving her mouth slightly open.
She grabbed his hand and weaved them across the room and into the women’s bathroom. He smirked as they passed one of the middle stalls, knowing exactly what was going on there, and was tugged suddenly into the stall at the end. She slid the lock shut and pushed him up against the stall door, bracing her arms on either side of him, kissing him strongly, parting his lips with her tongue without any formalities.
She smelled like cigarettes and tasted like tequila and for once he didn’t mind that he was the one pushed against the wall. Her entire body molded against his, trapping him against the door with graffiti declaring undying love engraved in the peeling paint. He opened his mouth, slipping his tongue around hers, tangling his hands in her hair. A small moan escaped his lips when she untucked his shirt and ran her hands up his chest; he wasted no time in doing the same, raising his eyebrows at the realization that she wasn’t wearing a bra though didn’t have time to wonder how; she gently bit his bottom lip, reminding him, and he rolled her nipples between his fingers, eliciting a gasp from her in return.
He took her break in concentration and flipped them around so she was against the wall, smirking at her surprise before switching his attention to her neck. She silently applauded herself for wearing an easy-access skirt and fumbled with his belt. Her concentration dissolved as he hit a particularly sensitive spot and she moaned, arching her back and pushing her breasts further into his hands. He grinned into her skin and gently nibbled at her collarbone, licking the spot with his tongue.
The belt finally unbuckled, she focused on scraping her nails down his back under his shirt, moaning and pushing her breasts into his hands. He grinned into her skin and gently nibbled at her collarbone, licking the spot with his tongue. Getting the idea that she wanted it rough and hot, he pinched a nipple one last time, eliciting a loud moan from her, and slid a hand down her body to the hem of her skirt. She spread her legs a little wider as his fingers pushed up the fabric and toyed with the edge of her thong.
Someone hit the wall of the stall next to them and groaned with the unmistakable sound of clothing clumsily being removed and he absently wondered if the room shouldn’t be renamed. But then her hands found their way into his pants and he threw all thoughts that weren’t of sex out of his head and thrust two fingers into her, thumb brushing her clit the moment he spread some of her wetness around. Inhaling sharply, she closed her eyes tightly, trying not to be too loud when he pushed another finger in and sped up, curling and twisting his fingers in ways that made her knees weak.
“Damn, woman,” he breathed into her ear before swirling his tongue around her earlobe and sucking down her neck. He held her, slid an arm around her back for support and increased the pressure on her clit, feeling her get close and pulled away just before she came. Shaking his head at her glare, he pulled her panties down around her ankles and she stepped out of them, shoving them in the back pocket of his pants. He looked at her, pure need, and pushed his jeans and boxers down and a sexy smile replaced the frustration when he pushed her skirt up and cupped his hands around her thighs and lifted her up.
Legs instinctively wrapping around his back, she dropped a hand between them to guide him into her. She was wet enough and he was too far gone to wait and she didn’t care that his thrusts were immediate and strong. First one finger between them, then two, and she rubbed her clit, pushing back in time with him. It was quick and it was fast and it was hard and when she felt him come inside of her she was sent over the edge too and he didn’t stop until she came twice.
Disheveled and glowing, she carefully untangled herself from him, smiling gratefully as he kept an arm around her until her legs were no longer shaking. She smoothed out her skirt and adjusted her shirt, and he pulled his pants up again and decided to leave the shirt untucked. He handed her back her panties and she shook her head with a smirk and he shrugged happily and put them in his pocket.
“Thank you,” she whispered.
For rainblows:
Title: Flow My Tears, The Policeman Said
Pairing: Addison/Mark
Rating: PG
Prompt: Addison/Anyone. "On fallen angels and broken sounds, we will last past the final round."
Word Count: 575
“Enough.” She speaks softly to dark and empty air and ignores the shadows cast around her from the storm and wind outside. “Get up.” She tells herself and her lower back is screaming for her legs to listen to her lips because it is beginning to hurt and will only get worse. She braces herself on the two walls on either side of her corner and pushes up, standing straight as she fights off a small bout of vertigo. She stands up tall and confident and brushes her hair out of her face as if she sat in the corner of a room full of furniture-shaped dust covers all the time and it was quite natural indeed. She makes a move to wipe away tears but smiles instead, that night marking her success. She walks away from the corner she does not need anymore and strides across the room, owning it and telling the thunder and lightning that she is strong and does not flinch as the street lights flicker in time with a boom she feels through the floor.
Her heels click on the hardwood floor, a steady cadence that is not lost in the noise of the storm, and she picks up her cell phone with its one bar of battery and two bars of signal and holds down the number three. She paces impatiently as the ring threatens to turn to voicemail and she checks her watch and mentally accounts for time zones and decides it is dinner time for him and that is why she is listening to his mechanical and polite voice requesting her to leave a detailed message and a phone number.
“Derek, it’s Addison. I thought you’d like to know that the buyers closed on the brownstone today and we got our full asking price. It’ll be split straight down the middle, our lawyers will deal with all the paperwork.” She pauses and takes a breath, making it a short one so as to not run out of time. “Tell everyone I said hi. Take care.” She hangs up and nods and slips the phone into her purse and tells it to shut up as it begins beeping its low battery signal.
She opens her black umbrella before she is even completely out the door and locks it for the last time, dropping the key in the box attached to the front door. Her heels make tiny splashes on the sidewalk as she makes her way to her car and slips in. She frowns at the water that inevitably spills in and drives off without looking back. She blindly changes the CD to something more rain-appropriate and turns up the volume as she heads across town, two last boxes in her trunk to unpack and call herself officially moved in with him.
He meets her at the curb, for she calls him before she turns onto their street so he could help, and is soaking wet but smiles through it and manages to be nearly irresistible she almost takes him right there on the sidewalk. But she restrains herself and pops the trunk and takes the lighter of the two boxes and wrinkles her nose at the rain that splashes off the trunk as he slams it shut. She smiles when she notices that the cute, yet forgetful, grandmother of a landlady has finally changed the names next to the apartment numbers so number twenty-one now reads “Sloan/Montgomery.”
For daynawashere:
Title: Our Mutual Friend
Pairing: Addison/Finn
Rating: PG-13/R
Prompt: Prom.
Word Count: 731
“I’m really sorry about Doc,” Finn comes up behind you to refill his punch glass.
You smile, feigning sad. You never really liked the dog. “Thanks. At least my shoes will go uneaten now?” You clink your plastic glass to his because it seems like the thing to do and make a face at the sugary and…red taste of the drink. He agrees with you without you needing to say anything.
He catches your arm as you turn to speak to someone else in the spirit of working the room and you look at him, confused. You then follow his gaze and see Meredith Grey and your husband walking as quickly as her heels will allow around a corner - together - trailing Callie Torres. Whispers of Izzie Stevens and Denny Duquette fill the air. Finn looks at you, a painful sadness and a realization across his eyes and soon it jumps to yours. You are both hurt and it took the same two people to hurt both of you and you’re shocked to see a flash of anger cross his face. Not anger at you, but at the world, anger you share, anger for screwing over what could have been happiness. Again.
You need air and leave in a hurry, secretly hoping he will follow you but obviously hope it isn’t an obvious hope. The brick wall is cold and the air is colder and goosebumps cover your arms immediately but you just close your eyes and breathe in through your nose and out through your mouth. You know that your marriage has been over long before you even considered cheating on him and you are perversely glad that you have physical evidence now; evidence that the months of effort have been in vain, something to say rather than feelings.
Your (ex)vet is standing in front of you and is asking if you are okay. You can’t help but think what a stupid question that is and you open one eye and sardonically ask him if he’s okay. He takes your point but instead of leaving like you don’t want he kisses you like you didn’t know you wanted.
His lips are soft against yours and his tongue is gentle, his hands come up to cup your cheeks and they are comforting and smooth. You kiss him back, a little harder than he is kissing you, and he smiles into your lips and matches your intensity. You aren’t sure who pulls back first but you’re both breathing hard and there’s that cloud in his eyes that you’re sure is in yours as well that says that he might like you, but tonight is not the night to decide. You nod and smile a smile that says that you know sex would only complicate things more than they ever could be, but it might be the best thing for you tonight.
He takes your hand and leads you to your car and you don’t care that your jacket and your purse are locked in your office and the only thing you have is your driver’s license and ten dollars hooked into a garter on your right leg; a habit leftover from college. You smile and drive in your four-inch stilettos and follow him to his place.
You are comforted, as he unzips your dress and whispers how gorgeous you are, that you somehow know that he never slept with Meredith. This seems so much more fitting, so much more perfect, and he pulls you into bed with him and pays attention to every part of your body and all you think of are hands and tongues and skin and how they feel against each other. When he finally slides into you, the beautiful sensation of knowing how right and how wrong this is makes everything that much clearer and crisper and better.
You sneak out in the morning before he’s awake and leave a note, a promise to return the boxers and shirt within the week. You drive home to find your husband’s girlfriend’s panties in his suit jacket and don’t regret a thing. When you do return the boxers and shirt with a smile, the two of you make plans for lunch because you might like each other but you silently promise to never mention prom night again. Because neither of you knows whether it was revenge or comfort.