#alex sstuff

[halfway-happyyy]

With You Now

AN: i am momentarily emerging from hibernation! this is based off of a request, it’s full of fluff, but it’s rather long so it’s going under a read more. enjoy, lovelies!

disclaimer: a simple canadian gal whose never been to New York, fake it til ya make it, right? 

New York City was loud.

She supposed that if she had given herself enough time to really feel the city out- anything longer than a couple of whirlwind days- she could have grown accustomed to the pervasive cacophony of it all. In fact, she could have easily imagined herself in it's blissfully chaotic setting; she could picture squeezing past throngs of people to get to the nearest subway station. She could imagine being able to tune out the noise until it became nothing but a low background hum, the every day soundtrack to life in a city as vibrant and breathtaking as the big apple. But then, and with a rather sharp pang, she remembered the second last text message on her phone, and her heart sank low in her chest. This trip, as with most other things in life, had failed spectacularly to live up to her expectations.

Can't wait to see you! Should be around to pick you up from the airport just before your plane lands xx

She had read the words over again with bated breath, sheer hope brimming the rim of her proverbial cup and threatening to spill over any second. And then she walked into a bustling John F. Kennedy airport, and she certainly wasn’t alone, but the one person that could be counted on for a familiar face was nowhere to be found.

Just arrived! Going for my luggage. Hope to see you soon!

And as she followed signs that led to baggage claim there was some sinking feeling inside of her that simply told her he would not be coming. She couldn’t put a finger on it except to say that there was a lingering unpleasantness that kept her company while she waited for him. Then an hour elapsed and when she still hadn’t heard anything, she slid into the cracked leather seats of a taxi bound for her Manhattan hotel.

The first night there was the hardest. To be in a city so rich and full of life, all she really felt was loneliness and anger- and not even so much at the man who let her down, but at herself for falling for it in the first place. They had met in Michigan a year prior at a black-tie work function that she had hardly even wanted to be at. He worked in pharmaceutical and told her all of the right things, and then they spent a blissful couple of Autumn weeks together and when she dropped him off at the airport on a sunny Sunday morning, he begged her to come visit him in New York sometime. She resigned herself to the weight of these feelings tonight; they certainly weren’t going anywhere but come tomorrow morning, she was determined to make the most of the time she had left in this wondrous city. In spite of her resolve, as she drifted from this world into dream, she couldn’t help but hear the gravelly voice of her dear departed grandmother somewhere in the darker reaches of her mind-

What a damn fool.

Birdsong and the blaring of car horns in the distance roused her from her fractured slumber and she stretched her arms high above her head to limber up. For a few moments before her sleep-induced fog dissipated, she forgot where she was. And then a copy of the New York Times on her bedside table reminded her, and she smiled softly to herself. Reaching for her phone, she glanced down at the text message there and swallowed back the lump of despair rising in the hollow of her throat.

I don’t know how else to say this, except that I’m not interested in pursuing whatever this is any longer. Wishing you all the best xx

She wondered briefly- and not for the first time, if she was simply too much for people. Too loud, too curvy, too… herself. And if that was true, when would she (if ever) just be enough?

Two options became glaringly obvious to her: she could let this man (see: child) ruin her entire trip- she could convince herself that because he didn’t want her, that meant the city wouldn't either. Or, she could take a deep breath and try to convince herself that she deserved to be here. That perhaps someone or something would be better for her having stayed. So she thumbed away the stray tear that had managed to escape from the corner of her eye and got out of bed with a renewed sense of hope.

This culmination of events led her to a worn-out wrought-iron bench in central park, a half-drunk latte in one hand, and a bagel from the nearby deli in the other. After a morning of window shopping and the occasional tourist trap, she was content to rest her feet for a little while and to watch people pass, but when a trendy young woman walked by with a Guggenheim tote bag slung over a shoulder, she got an idea. A friendly local informed her that the museum was about a ten minute walk from where she was so she finished her lunch and set off in that direction. To her relief, the museum hadn’t been hard to find at all and she peered up at the architectural wonder in awe as she waited for the light to change. Admittedly her knowledge of art and its vast love affair with history was limited, but she could appreciate the all-encompassing magnitude of a building solely dedicated to it. The interior of the museum was spectacular in its scale, with seemingly unending levels that spiraled to the top and eventually gave way to an ornate glass dome ceiling. An information pamphlet handed to her upon arrival told her that among other ongoing exhibits, a new one on Vasily Kandinsky was being shown around the circle and she headed there first. After a while of wondering around, she found herself stopped in front of a painting so breathtaking in its use of shape and colour, that she was rendered speechless for a moment. It was titled Dominant Curve and it was painted in April of 1936.

“Sofia! wait-”

The distinct twinkle of girlish laughter, followed by the booming voice of a man concerned caught her off guard and she turned just in time to see the child trip over her own two feet and land hard on her knees. It was deathly quiet as both her and the child’s presumable father waited with bated breath for the meltdown that might or might not ensue at any moment. The little girl, too stunned to speak at first, picked herself up and glanced at the ruby-red liquid that started to seep from a small scrape above her knee, and began to wail loudly. The man immediately knelt down to survey the damage, saying something to her that she couldn’t make out. Without a second thought, she reached into the front pocket of her purse and dug around for an alcohol swab and the pink Hello Kitty band-aid she knew was there. When she found it, she stepped forward tentatively and asked if she could help.

“Yes please, if you wouldn’t mind.” He murmured, his tone weary.

“Not at all,” She beamed down at the little girl, who couldn’t have been a day over five or six, and whose eyes were entirely too unsure. Ripping open the foil packet, she informed the girl that the alcohol would likely sting a little bit and the man then relayed this information to her in a foreign tongue, pressing his lips to the apple of her cheek as he did so. Under the tender touch of her protector, the child’s sobs were soon reduced to muffled hiccups, and she barely batted an eye when the swab was wiped over the shallow scrape. “Almost done, you’re doing great…” She reassured her, and was relieved to see the tears drying on her freckled cheeks. She then placed the band-aid over the scrape and stood from her position with a sure smile. “I hope that feels better honeybee.” The child peered shyly up at her, her glacial-blue eyes wide and still extremely uncertain.

The man stood from his position, gathering the girl into his arms as he did so, his smile grateful. “English isn’t really her strong suit yet. She’s uh… super Swedish.” He winked at her and leaned over to whisper something to the girl in their native tongue.

“Thank you,” Her tiny voice murmured, and then she offered her up a small, tentative smile.

“You are most welcome.” Turning her attention back to the man, she gestured to the child. “You’ve got a pretty brave little girl on your hands.”

He rolled his blue eyes playfully. “Oh she's a real riot until she decides not to listen to her uncle Alex. Isn't that right Sof?” Sofia burried her tiny face into the crook of his neck in answer. He chuckled heartily, patting a large hand against her small back and turned his gaze back to her. There was something undoubtedly familiar about him and yet she knew with a finite certainty that the likelihood of them ever having crossed paths was slim. “You’re good with kids,” He murmured after a beat.

Her cheeks grew warm under his observation and the soft, Swedish lilt he had. “I’d hope so. I'm a nurse back home.”

“I reckon that makes you a nurse everywhere.” His lips turned up into a grin and she had no choice in that moment but to smile back just as wide.

“Yes, I suppose it does.” She laughed easily.

“I’m Alex, by the way. And this is Sofia.”

She offered him a handshake which he obliged happily with an unmistakable strength; his impossibly warm hand dwarfed her own and caused her to swallow hard at the notion. “It’s been lovely to have met you both.” And she meant it.

They stood in thoughtful silence for a moment before he cocked his head to the side and narrowed his gaze at her, a knowing smile tugged the edges of his lips skyward. He had been about to ask her something when his phone rang, interrupting him, his expression apologetic as he answered the call. He spoke in perfect Swedish, the soft cadence of it immediately enchanting to her. Ending the call on a finite note, he dropped the phone into the back pocket of his dark jeans and glanced at Sophia. She leaned forward just then to cup a miniscule hand around his ear and he responded to her hushed whisper in muted Swedish and then set her back on her own two feet. Clearing his throat, he scratched self-consciously at the back of his head. “Please forgive her boldness, but Sofia here was wondering if you’d like to join us for ice cream at Serendipity 3.” He sensed her trepidation and rushed to fill the silence in his wake. “Please don’t feel obligated to say yes- I know you don’t know either of us from a hole in the wall. She could eat ice cream for breakfast, lunch and dinner and we’re actually about to meet her dad there now.”

Seconds felt like years in that moment and when she could think of no solid reason to object, she simply nodded her head with a small smile. “I’d be delighted to join you two for ice cream.”

One hour and a frozen hot chocolate later, she found herself bidding goodbye to the charming young girl. A ring of melted chocolate decorated the space around her lips and the unabashed glee on her face spoke novels of just how happy a sweet treat and time with her uncle had made her. The pink hello kitty band-aid that peeked out from beneath the lace hem of her blue dress had all but been forgotten, and she supposed that ice cream had a marvelous way of doing that for someone of the tender age of five.

“She’s a sweet girl,” She marveled to Alex.

He smiled around the rim of his coffee cup. “She’s alright, old Sofia. We have fun.” They sat in comfortable silence for a moment before he said, “Are you familiar with Andy Warhol?”

She swallowed back the rest of her frozen drink and flipped through a mental rolodex of prolific artists. “Do you mean the silver-haired soup can man?”

Alex grinned at that. “That’s the one. Legend has it that this was one of his favourite haunts back in the day, and you just treated yourself to one of his favourite orders.”

“Do you know what I think?” She sighed, contentedly. Alex quirked an eyebrow in question. “I think that every single nook and cranny of this city is overflowing with a treasure trove of wondrous stories to tell.”

“Absolutely. It’s one of the endless reasons I love living here. I never get to stay as long or as often as I’d like to, but it’s always a wonderful time.” He scratched at the underside of his stubbled jaw in thought. “I think it’s the not knowing that makes this place magical. I feel like I’m always on the precipice of an adventure; of meeting new people.”

Her cheeks warmed as she pondered that. “I told you earlier what I did for a living, but I never got a chance to ask what it is that you do?”

A light somewhere in the depths of his glacial orbs dimmed, and his smile became marginally less blinding. “Among other more important things, I act for a living. I’d say it’s one of the least exciting things about me,” He finished with a self deprecating smile. When she didn’t immediately follow that statement up with, ‘Oh really? That is exciting! What have I seen you in?’ the boyish glitter returned to his eyes.

Glancing up at the clock above their heads, she realized with an inexplicable pang that they would probably part ways soon. She was in awe of how easy it was to talk with him, of how content she’d be to let this moment drag on for hours. And then she considered that this was one of her only chances to take a risk in this magical city- so she took a deep breath and hoped for the best. “I don't really have anywhere to be tonight and I was wondering if you’d like some more company?”

You are too loud, too curvy, too yourself.

Alex cocked his head to the side, that same knowing smile from a couple of hours ago that seemed to say so much but also nothing at all in equal measure. “I’d like nothing more.”

And she believed him.

They ventured on in comfortable silence for another twenty minutes before Alex faltered in front of a charming green stone building, the awning above the entrance was weather-worn with black and white stripes. A wooden sign next to the door read ‘GEMMA’ followed by bits and pieces of Italian. The all-enticing aroma of sautéed garlic and Italian spices hung heavy in the air before them and made her mouth water hungrily. Alex glanced at the watch on the underside of his wrist and turned to her, “Are you hungry at all?”

She nodded eagerly. “Very, actually.”

“This is one of my favourite spots in the city. Come on,”

She followed him into the restaurant, and was pleased to see that he was well-liked there; servers waved happily at him as they passed by. Finding a quiet booth at the back of the bar, she settled into her spot before him, gladly. After receiving their first round of drinks, she set her menu down and gazed at him, her expression curious. “What brought you to the Guggenheim today?” She finally asked.

Alex smiled around the rim of his pint glass, and shrugged. “Bill- my brother, needed someone to watch Sofia on short notice today. I was already going there anyway, and figured I’d bring her along. Never too late to start them early, I suppose.”

“She’ll remember these adventures with you fondly, I think.”

He smiled softly at that. “I hope so.” Clearing his throat, he cocked his head to the side, his expression curious. “And what of you? How is it that you’ve found yourself in this city’s clutches?”

She swallowed hard and took a long sip of her rosé, savouring the flavour of it on her tongue while she cast around for what to say. “I followed a hunch,” She admitted, finally.

They sat in silence for a moment before he simply murmured, "I reckon it's entirely his loss."

She smiled wryly. "Some would disagree."

"They'd be wrong." He shrugged, easily.

His honesty was a sharp knife she wouldn’t mind being cut to shreds with. “And while it didn't work out the way that I had anticipated, I’m certainly not upset at the current turn of events.”

He watched her with unabashed adoration and raised his pint to her in toast. “Neither am I.”

She couldn’t be sure how long they stayed tucked away in that booth for. She listened with rapt attention as he spoke of his second life in Sweden; of his siblings and his mother, that no matter how far away he strayed, his home would always be there. She told him of her life in Michigan, of how much she loved to take care of people; how she was certain that that specific gift had been passed down to her through a faraway haplogroup. She liked to imagine a distant line of her ancestors as healers, people good with their hands and open with their hearts. 

They stepped out into the balmy September evening a little while later to an eruption of dazzling fireworks as they exploded overhead in the distance. She was struck absolutely silly at how breathtaking he looked just then, and she asked (rather tentatively) if she could take his picture.

Just in case that big old sky ever falls on our heads.

“I'll let you take mine if I can take yours.” He bargained.

“Deal,” She smiled.

She went home with Alex that night. Knew in her heart that even if it wasn’t going to go farther than a blissfully lovely day- followed by an equally lovely evening, that would be fine with her. Sometimes it was enough to know that perfection could exist in the finite space of twelve hours, between two perfect strangers.

When she awoke in the morning’s hush, she could just make out the outline of the rising sun as it shone through the part in his linen curtains. She swallowed hard and turned to the sleeping man next to her. His impossibly long blonde eyelashes seemed to fan out over subtle freckles, and delicate wrinkles, and he was utterly breathtaking in his simplicity. She watched the steady rise and fall of his chest, and his muscles as they stretched the fabric of a coffee-coloured cashmere sweater, still entirely sound asleep and she wondered for a moment if she should leave. She pulled the weighted duvet from her body and sat up to lean her legs over the side of the bed, shivering as her feet came in contact with the cool, hardwood flooring.

“Hey you,” Alex cleared his throat and she hesitated a beat before turning to view him in the growing morning light.

“Yeah?”

He propped his head up beneath the palm of his hand and beamed at her. “Good morning.”

“Good morning, Alex.” She smiled back. Though still fully clothed from the night before, she felt inexplicably naked under his penetrating gaze and the sudden urge to bolt was strong.

“This is going to sound crazy, and maybe we’ll never see each other again after today, but I-” His voice bore the weight of recent sleep as he trailed off in search of the right way to frame his thoughts. “I’m not sure how else to put this, except to say that I feel like I’m better this morning somehow… for having met you yesterday. I’m really glad that I did.” It was an honesty usually reserved for old friends, people who knew the fragile ins-and-outs of a weathered relationship. Except that he wasn’t an old friend at all, and somehow she felt as if she’d known him her entire life.

She crawled back into bed next to him, and laced her fingers with his beneath the sheets. “I am too, Alex.”

#am i using this photo again because it's one of my favs?? yep #momentarily out of hibernation #alexander skarsgard #alexander skarsgard x reader #alexander skarsgard fluff #alexander skarsgard oneshot #alexander skarsgard fanfic #alex sstuff #writing #adele voice- go easy on me

[halfway-happyyy]

wildest dreams

AN: ahoy friends! writing has felt distant to me lately which is unfortunate, but i was able to dream this up thanks to this ask . short and sweet, and nothing but fluff ahead. enjoy!

Seated across from one another at a crew dinner in West London, you marvel freely at the precise way his glassy blue gaze glitters merrily under exceptional conversation and even better wine. The navy silk tie knotted at the base of his throat looks great where it is, but you reckon it looked even better tied to the wrought-iron railing of your hotel bedframe a couple nights ago. An eight-AM flight bound for LaGuardia airport the next morning looms above you like a heavy raincloud; a stark reminder that your time in England is almost up. He knows it too; you can feel it in the way he glances at you every so often. Like he’s trying desperately to remember how you look in the waning light from the candles scattered around you. He catches your gaze once more before people begin saying their goodbyes for the evening, and he offers you a look that says nothing at all but also everything, in equal measure.

Secrets between lovers never remain that way for long.

There is no visible sign of rain on the horizon but you can smell traces of it in the air as you exit the restaurant into the late-May evening. Funny how four weeks ago you had only ever heard mentions of his name in passing, and now you wait with bated breath for the all too-familiar feeling of his impossibly warm hand at the small of your back. “What do you say we get away from here for a little while, hm?” The ghost of a Swedish lilt in his voice, and his lips against the delicate shell of your ear cause you to shiver against him and you nod your head wordlessly. If the last three and a half weeks have proven anything to you, it's that your will to tell him no to anything is inexplicably non-existent.

“Show me the way, Alex.”

The car ride is silent save for the static of the radio on in the background and you assume you're en-route to his hotel. Yours was last night's venue of choice and you can still picture the discarded pieces of his clothing littering the marble flooring like physical manifestations of your blissful recklessness. Closing your eyes, you can still feel the weight of him between your legs; the miniscule violet bruises from desperate fingertips or teeth that decorate the velvet inside of your thighs, and the delicious ache from being stretched a little too fully.

“Penny for your thoughts?” Alexander simpers.

You swallow hard, turning to gaze out at the passing scenery. “Last night was nice,” You offer, mildly.

Alexander chuckles softly at that, his laughter eventually fading into thoughtful silence. “Every night with you this last little while has been nothing short of mesmerizing.”

“I bet you say that to all the pretty girls.”

His gaze flits from the road for a second to yours, his expression unreadable. “Just you, kid.” And god, this is where it all starts to sting. There isn’t enough liquor in the world that could drown out the feeling of leaving something behind indefinitely- be it a person or a place.

Nothing lasts forever.

Eventually the steady flow of the vehicle lulls you into a shallow sleep, and when Alexander’s kiss rouses you from that state a little while later, it is to the notion that you are not in fact at his hotel, but rather a beautiful white-washed cottage. Stretching your arms as high as the car will allow, you yawn before turning to him. “How long were we driving for?”

He glances at the time on the dash and shrugs. “Forty-five minutes, give or take.” Lifting the back of your hand to his lips to kiss it softly, he cocks his head to the side and asks, “Shall we go and settle into our home for the evening?”

You nod, smiling sleepily. Show me the way, Alex.

Forest green ivy winds its way up the white stone walls of the front entrance, and you're entirely smitten with the place before you've even stepped foot inside. Walking into the front hallway, you notice a stone fireplace against the far wall. Ornate wooden furniture- seemingly from a long forgotten time, adds endless charm to the already beautiful home, and the glaring notion that you have less than twelve hours here is not lost on you. Glancing back at Alexander, you offer him a small smile which he willingly returns. You wander over to the expansive bay window in the corner of the room, which offers a breathtaking view of the rolling valley hills splayed out like a rich tapestry before you. Letting your eyes fall shut, you play through an invisible highlight reel of the last four whirlwind weeks of your life. 

Your first legitimate gig. 

Alexander for the first time. 

London, and so much laughter. 

His lips on yours. 

Memories. 

He clears his throat behind you and you turn to view him in the fiery light from the fading sun. He's still leant against the wooden front hall doorframe, and though his eyes still glimmer just as brightly as they did earlier this evening, something else lingers there that makes a lump swell in the hollow of your throat.

“You're staring at me,” Your tone is soft, quizzical.

A small smile blooms across Alexander's face as he nods his head in confirmation. “I want to remember this exact version of you for the rest of my days. You, in that beautiful dress, the sunset behind you…” His inflection is painfully wistful; it drips with a longing you aren't familiar with yet. Maybe you never will be.

*

When you awaken in the morning's hush it is to the delicate sound of birdsong from the open window. The dawn breeze rolling in chills you through, and you instinctively curl back into the sleeping Swede behind you. How much you'll miss this when you're parted; how much you'll miss him. He stirs behind you, and his strong arms circle your waist, pulling you ever closer.  

“To have one more night tangled up with you…” His voice bares the brunt of slumber, the dry, raspy drawl of it makes your knees weak. His fingertips trace unrecognizable patterns along the dips and valleys of your hips and ribs, and the urge to miss a flight has never been more pressing. “It’s possible we could keep this going…” His silence gives way to a subdued optimism; he’s flipping through a mental rolodex of his next jobs: Morocco, Toronto, California, and eventually... home to New York. It just isn't in the cards for either of you.

“In every single universe apart from this one, we keep going Alex.”

And when this ends, I hope you remember me well.

"God, I'll miss you." A heavy sigh emanates from his parted lips as he bends his head to press a gentle kiss to the apple of your cheek. "Give ‘em hell, kid."

#forever obsessed with the idea of distance and timing and meeting the right person at the wrong time #starcrossed is the name #lovers is the game #alexander skarsgard #alexander skarsgard x reader #alexander skarsgard fluff #fluff #drabble #writing #alex sstuff #love u tay tay

[halfway-happyyy]

The Girl

Friends, this piece is a bit naughty, so it’s under the cut. It’s also inspired by this ask: 

How he has always possessed the ability to know exactly what she needs without vocalizing it.

How all he must do to see how badly her body yearns for his, is to press his lips to the warm nape of her neck.

How all she has to utter is, “I need you…”

It's late when he arrives home for the evening; the scent of damp pavement from a recent storm floats in on the breeze from the open front door, and she drops her head back for a moment to breathe it in. Dinner is already long but forgotten; a plate of walnut-crusted trout (his own catch from a few weeks ago), blue cheese and bacon brussel sprouts, and roast potatoes sits on a rack in the oven under an all-encompassing warm setting. The flame from a candle wavers in the spring draft beneath her gaze and she sighs contentedly when she hears him enter the kitchen.

He sidles up behind her, his deft fingertips brush the hair back from her shoulder blade as he begins massaging her shoulders. His ministrations are firm- bordering on painful, but she stays rooted to the spot because she knows she'll feel all the better for it in the end. “You're carrying a lot of tension kid,” He murmurs, lowly. “Everything alright?”

She turns in his arms to face him, then. Blueish-violet circles grace the delicate space of skin beneath his beautiful azure eyes, speaking volumes of how much time he's spent on a film set the last few weeks. She fights the urge to trace a fingertip along the deepened creases next to his eyes, and drags a bottom lip between her teeth. She’s managed to keep the feelings at bay most of the day, but now that he's finally home- warm and hard and utterly alive beneath her touch- she is rendered entirely powerless. “I crave you, Alex…” It exits her mouth more strangled and embarrassingly desperate than she wants it to, but luckily for her, it seems to get the point across.

A barely audible noise exits his parted lips before he offers her one last look, and makes for the living room. He doesn't beckon her to follow him but she does regardless, and watches him take a seat in the plush, burgundy chair adjacent to their bay window.  Their home perches high above the city of Los Angeles, a myriad of lights twinkle before them like a starlight-woven tapestry. Alexander clears his throat and pats the top of his black, trouser-clad thigh. “Come here, and I'll see if I can give you what it is that you so desperately need…” She takes a seat atop his thigh; the soft material of his trousers is felt easily through the thread-bare cotton of her sundress. Levelling his piercing gaze with hers, he gives his head an almost imperceptible shake. “Now what's got you in such a state, hm?” He wraps an arm around her waist to secure her to his lap.

She swallows hard- opens her mouth to answer him but feels his fingertips on the soft skin of her knee and she shudders. They travel lazily up her thigh and he nods his head to encourage her forth.

“I had a dream about you last night. An inexplicably sexy one, and when I woke up this morning you had already left…”

Alexander clicks his tongue, pouting his pink lips up at her. “How unfair… will you share with me what your dream was about baby?”

A shadow falls over her features; she suddenly grows bashful and turns to bury her face in the hollow warmth of his neck.

A soft chuckle erupts from the base of his throat and he squeezes the tender skin of her inner thigh firmly and tries to press her on further. “Did I have my lips on you, gorgeous girl?”

She sucks her bottom lip between her teeth again and nods her head against him. “Yes…”

“Good girl. Did I make you feel good?”

She untucks her head from his neck to gaze at him, and he certainly doesn't miss the sudden burst of pink in her cheeks, or the way her heart thrums a little more wildly in her chest. “So good…” She whispers, earnestly.

She can feel his erection growing in the crotch of his trousers, how hard it swells beneath her thigh.

“And did you touch yourself at all today while I was gone?”

She shakes her head no, and it’s the honest truth.

His fingers travel farther up her thigh, and he groans when he notices her complete lack of panties. “Did you do this for me?”

And what she wants to say is, of course! But all she can manage is a meek nod of her head. He's close to the center of her hot, wet core now. One fingertip away from it, and the urge to grind down against him is overwhelming. He takes a deep breath and swipes the hardened pad of his fingertip over her slit, catches the moisture there and groans loudly at the notion of it. “So wet for me baby. Probably making a huge mess out of these pants, hm?” Her eyes fall shut as a desperate moan escapes her parted lips. Alexander sighs heavily at this and clicks his tongue. “This isn't going to work if your eyes are closed. You're going to be a good girl for me, and watch everything I'm about to do to you, hm?”

She concedes without fuss.

Alexander pushes two fingertips deep into her soaked cunt and leans in to take the velvet softness of her earlobe between his teeth. The fullness of his fingers inside of her, combined with the sensation of his stubble against her cheek; her earlobe as he gently suckles on it, has her trembling violently against him. He pulls away to blow a stream of cool air over her lobe, and admires the goosebumps that rise in patterns over her chest and neck. “How does this compare to your dream?” He smirks.

A breathless laugh escapes her lips and fans a lock of sandy blonde hair out of his eyes. “It doesn't.” She squirms above him as he begins to fuck her more aggressively. She resists the urge to close her eyes as her pleasure builds in her belly. “More,” She suddenly whimpers.

Alexander clicks his tongue, slows the movements of his fingers to an aching crawl. “I beg your pardon? Is that really any way to ask for what you want?”

She swallows hard and tries to grind herself against him, in dire need of more friction. “Please,” She whimpers breathlessly. “More please…”

Alexander hums against her. “I don't know if you can handle a third one, baby. I think it might just be too much for this sweet, little cunt of yours to take…”

“Please…” She whimpers again.

And he finally relents, pushing a third, thick digit into her hot, dripping wetness. His rhythm is lackadaisical at first; followed by a period of a sped-up tempo for a few seconds, with his long fingers hitting her spot every time. Her orgasm builds steadily in the pit of her tummy like a blaze gaining momentum. He can feel it in the way she clenches around him, can see it in the perspiration that blooms over every bare patch of skin on her body. And God, he wants her so bad…

“You're so close for me, sweet girl.” He purrs, softly. She nods her head; her gaze is utterly pleading and glassy and he simply assumes that this is just her looming orgasm taking its toll on her… but then the glass in her eyes turns to tears, which cascade down her flushed cheeks, and he fears for a moment, of coming apart on the spot. “Good girl…” He manages between groans, as he continues to fuck her without abandon. He has a strong hold on her, knows that if he loosens up even the slightest bit, that he'll lose her for good. “Let go for me sweet girl,” He whispers.

She tosses her head back as his words echo through her foggy brain. Her orgasm ripping through her, sending shockwaves of electric pleasure that exit her body in the form of ragged moans and breathless sobs. It takes her a while to recover from her high, but Alexander takes the extra time to wipe away the stray saltwater with the calloused pads of his thumbs. “I don’t think that's ever happened before…” she murmurs lowly, her voice utterly wrecked.

He wraps both of his arms around her protectively, grounding her damp, flushed frame to his, and rests his chin in the crook of her shoulder. The image of her coming apart beneath him plays on like a film in his mind, makes him even more dizzy with need for her than he already had been. He allows himself a deep, steadying breath, cuddling his face ever further into her. “I’m always learning something new about you, my beautiful girl.” A heavy, contented sigh follows in that statement's wake. “I have a feeling I be will until my last, rasping breath.” His brimming, unadulterated admiration for her causes her heart to swell with endless amounts of love.

#back (?) on my bullshit #i am in a MOOD today #go easy on me friends its been a while #alex sstuff #alexander skarsgard #alexander skarsgard x reader #alexander skarsgard drabble #alexander skarsgard smut #drabble #smut #writing

[halfway-happyyy]

Bright Eyes

AN: hello friends! this is a little something i came up with using this lovely moodboard by the ever-talented @flowers-in-your-hayr . this is also in celebration of her hitting 650+ followers! congratulations my dear, you are a light and deserve all of the love.

warnings: this piece is under the cut because it delves heavily into pregnancy and babies!

The changes were somewhat slow to note in the beginning.

There had been intense morning sickness throughout the first trimester; nausea on a level she had never fathomed before. It had been so terrible that some days the only task she could muster successfully was peeling herself from her duvet to stand beneath a near-scalding shower, arms braced against the glossy, tiled walls and chest heaving under the duress of the waves roiling deep in her belly.

Sleep, when she could come by it, was an absolute reprieve that came fast and all-consuming for her.

And then one morning- a couple of weeks shy of her third trimester, she had been standing naked and dripping in front of the fogged mirror in their on-suite washroom, when she noticed as if for the first time, the burgeoning bump of her belly. She watched the rounded curve of the life form growing inside of her with a hungry, fascinated gaze.

“Good morning baby,” Alexander had appeared behind her suddenly, his warm hands reaching around her front to caress the growing bump. He dropped to his knees to press a series of tender kisses to the taut skin there. “You be kind to your mama today, hm? She's been having a bit of a rough go of it lately…” Rising to stand, he reached for the stick of Shea butter balm, removed the cap, and began to roll it over her stomach in soothing circles. She had grown self-conscious of the opaque lines that had started to grow on her belly in the months leading up to their child's birth but he remained steadfast in his utter adoration and admiration for her and what her body was doing for them, regardless. “How are you feeling today, gorgeous girl?”

She had considered the question carefully; mulled over each possible answer in her mind and sighed softly, opting for the truth. “I'm tired today, Alex.” And she was. She had known that they were approaching the tail-end of this whirlwind adventure. Knew that in the next few months their baby would be earth-side with them, knew in her heart how quickly time would pass until then.

He smiled down at her, his azure blue eyes glassy and utterly empathetic. “I'm sure you are. I have two meetings in the city today, and then I'm all yours for the next couple of weeks. What do you say we grab dinner out tonight?”

A small sigh of relief before her lips curved up into a half smile. “I'd say you got yourself a date, Skarsgård.”

And then there was the moment she had woken up from a dead sleep three weeks before she gave birth. A slick sheen of perspiration covered every square inch of her body as she fought for a proper breath, and Alexander- bless his heart, in his sleep-heavy state had assumed that this was it. He had leapt out of bed, hand poised around the leather handle of the diaper bag next to his night side table. It, of course, wasn't it- rather she had been the victim of a nightmare of such terror that she could not begin to explain, or quantify, but that had shaken her to her very core. She was gripped with a fear the likes of which she had never felt before or since. It was a palpable, ugly thing that sidled itself inside her chest and caused tears to rush in rivers down her cheeks. All Alexander could do was hold her tight and rock her until the heaving stopped, the seemingly bottomless well of saltwater behind her eyes dry for the time being.

“What on earth is going on, kid?”

She had taken a deep breath, her eyes felt as if someone had dried them with sheets of sandpaper. “I'm scared, Alex.”

He clicked his tongue and held her ever tighter to his chest. “Of course you are. Of course you are. That's completely normal, my love.”

She trembled violently beneath him. “I need to feel like I'm not going to fuck this child up somehow… I need to know I'm going to be okay at this.”

Alexander pressed his lips to her temple, his warm breath as it fanned out over her face helped to quell her panic somewhat. “You're going to be okay at this,” He rubbed reassuring circles into the small of her back. “We're going to be okay at this. Together. We're going to make mistakes- that's a given. But there’s no way this child won't know love. Because it lives right here with us.”

One Monday morning, about a week prior to giving birth, she had found herself admiring the finishing touches to their nursery. A wooden rocking chair- possibly her most favourite part of the room, stood unsuspecting in the corner next to the open window. It was cracked to help the heady scent of fresh paint dissipate and she held her arms a little tighter to herself to ward off the early morning May breeze. A brand-new bookshelf was already chockful with material- titles ranging anywhere from The Very Hungry Caterpillar, to Where the Wild Things Are, to The Little Book of Fika- stood next to the rocking chair. Adorning the top of the shelf were photographs from their maternity shoot, some framed sonograms and a bear-shaped lamp. The walls had been washed in a soft beige, with Alexander insisting on some kind of fun decal- a tall tree and a rainbow helped to spruce up the adjacent accent wall. The whimsical plush animals of their baby’s mobile swayed gently in the breeze and she smiled to herself again. Reaching for the radio next to the crib, she flicked it on and braced herself against the wooden railing to stretch. Everybody Wants to Rule the World had come on and she dropped her head back and began to dance to the calming sway of the song. Regrettably, she hadn’t done much of it all during her pregnancy, but it felt necessary and wonderful to be as connected as possible to the little light inside of her before they were separated for good.

“Whatcha doing there, mama?”

Not noticing her sudden company until he had made himself known, she splayed her hands around her bump and beamed up at Alexander from his perch in the doorway. “I’m dancing this baby out, papa.”

“Mind if I join you?”

Her smile grew tenfold. “We’d love that.”

Alexander closed the short distance and wrapped himself around her; the velvet-soft rust coloured sweater that he had chosen for the day reminded her of the miniscule onesie tucked away in the dresser a few feet away. She leaned into his touch, letting his embrace warm the pair of them wholly. “Are you ready?” She murmured, after a while.

“Not even remotely,” He confirmed. “But that’s the beauty of it, isn’t it?”

Their baby girl arrived early in the morning of the twenty-first of May. At about six pounds thirteen ounces, she was almost incomprehensively small but easily the most beautiful creature they had ever laid eyes on. She fit nearly perfectly in the palm of Alexander’s hands and came complete with ten miniscule fingers and toes. Her eyes, when they were open, were a breathtaking hue of blue- one of the countless things her papa had bestowed her. A name had been elusive to them until they were in the comfort of their own home, her tiny frame swallowed up by an expert swaddle, and tucked easily inside the crook of Alexander’s forearm. “Well, what do you think kid?” He peered down at her, his eyes tired, but alight with a fire she had become familiar with in the days after their baby's arrival.

“I think it’s a beautiful name, Alex.”

He cleared his throat and blinked back a couple of tears as he gazed down at his sleeping daughter. “Welcome to the world, Maja Elizabeth Skarsgård. We love you endlessly already.”

And he had been right all along, of course.

It was never going to be easy and sleep was never going to be readily available again. They were going to screw up somewhere down the line. But to be blissfully hopeful for the future and for their family was easy- because love lived there.

#tw: pregnancy #650followers #flowers-in-your-hayr #pregnancy #alexander skarsgard #alexander skarsgard x reader #alexander skarsgard imagine #alexander skarsgard drabble #fluff #drabble #writing #alex sstuff

[halfway-happyyy]

Coming Home

AN: hello friends! it’s me again! and back (again) with something that no one asked for, but if this thought has to live rent free in my head... then it might as well in yours, too. 

tw: nothing but fluff, since that’s all i can get my brain to create these days.

She awakens in the morning's hush to a dull throbbing in her head, her throat like sandpaper. Shuffling through a mental rolodex of the previous evening’s drinks, she swallows hard to keep the roiling waves of nausea at bay. An idle glance to the clock on the spare room night side table tells her that it’s later in the morning, and she waits until she hears the familiar sound of water hitting the metal drain of Alexander's shower before she lifts the duvet from her body. A cool, hardwood floor greets her bare feet as she pads to the closet in search of something to throw over her figure before she heads downstairs. Settling on a worn, crème cashmere sweater of his that falls to her shins, she stretches her arms high above her head to limber up. Stepping out into the hallway, the heady aroma of freshly ground coffee beans greets her as she makes her way down the spiral staircase towards the much-needed liquid. Muffled pieces of Swedish find her from the kitchen.

“There she is,” Gustaf beams at her, his wise, knowing gaze twinkles merrily in the sunshine filtering in through the open kitchen window.

Bill is already reaching for a coffee mug for her.

“Morning Goose.” She smiles, sleepily. “Good morning, Bill.”

He smiles at her, wryly. “Good morning kid. How are you fairing so far?”

She shifts from foot to foot- remembers the shots taken, the beers consumed, the martinis sipped, and she grimaces. “I’m uh… definitely feeling a little rough for sure, but it’s really nothing a couple cups of coffee and some food won't cure.”

Gustaf laughs heartily before taking a deep sip from his own mug. Setting it down against the oak tabletop, his smile bears a teasing lilt. “I confess I am impressed that you're even upright at the moment.”

She accepts the coffee from Bill graciously, notes that he has made it exactly how she likes it, and thanks a higher being for the Skarsgårds. Taking her first sip of the day, she savours the creamy bitterness of it on her tongue, and the warmth of it as it settles in her tummy and turns to Gustaf. “Me too, Goose. How did last night get so out of hand?”

Bill rolls his viridian eyes. “The same way it always does.”

She remembers the text she received from Alexander yesterday afternoon vividly: ‘Hey kid- I’m back on home turf for the next week. Having some friends over tonight to celebrate. Bill and Gustaf miss you. Maybe I do too. If you’re not doing anything, please consider dropping by. Don’t bring any liquor. I already have too much. Hope to see you soon, xx – A’ Her cheeks warm at the thought of it, and she swallows hard. “Yeah, I have no recollection of like… the last two hours of the evening.”

Bill chuckles into his mug. “You were pretty entertaining. Uh but eventually, and unfortunately for the rest of us, Alex hauled you into his arms and tucked you into bed a little after midnight.” Alex hauled you into his arms… And just then- a flash of a memory; his impossibly warm, sure arms around her, the softness of a bed, the sheer relief of him pulling a duvet over her body, a pair of tender lips against her temple, a sliver of pale light from the hallway on her arm, the sound of a door shutting softly. “But hey,” Bill murmurs, taking notice of the expression on her face. “You had fun, right?”

She’s about answer in the affirmative, when the water stops, and she clears her throat. “I wanted to run something by you two before Alex comes down.”

Gustaf sets down the script he had been reading and turns to her, his attention now suddenly all-consuming. Bill sets his empty mug against the marble counter and folds his arms across his chest. “Go on, then.”

“What do you think the chances of Alex setting me up with Joel are?” She picks anxiously at a patch of chipped lavender polish on her pinkie finger as she awaits their responses.

Gustaf speaks first, his expression deadpan. “Joel who?”

She has to fight the urge to roll her eyes. “The other Scandinavian giant who likes to hang around with you guys sometimes. He and Alex go way back apparently…”

“You don’t mean Joel Kinnaman?” Bill asks, tone incredulous.

Her cheeks grow ever warmer. “Yeah, that’s him.” He had made an appearance last night for a couple of hours- and she thought that they had hit it off well, all things considered. “But if you guys don’t really think it’s a good idea, I’ll just… leave it.” Gustaf opens his mouth to say something, but in place of any actual words, a booming laugh tumbles out and soon the pair of them are laughing so hard, they’re both silent. She folds her arms across her chest, suddenly defensive, and waits for their laughter to subside. She listens for Alexander’s weighted footsteps above her. “Alright you two, that’s enough. I get it, I’ll drop it.” She snaps.

Gustaf sighs, his eyes still glitter just as brilliantly as before. “Listen, little one. I don’t think it’s a bad idea at all. I just think that it’s precarious territory.”

“What’s precarious about it? Apart from the fact that you both clearly don’t think that I can make it happen.” She gets it before they confirm it for her. One of his ex-girlfriends was Olivia Munn for crying out loud. She suddenly feels ridiculous for even considering it.

Gustaf clears his throat and stares at her, and she feels like he’s peering into her very soul. “You are a very capable and brilliant young woman, my dear. So, you will excuse me if I find it difficult to believe that you truly don’t know.”

She stares at them both, expectantly. “Don’t know what?”

Gustaf shrugs and takes another sip of his coffee. “Alex carries a massive, blazing torch for you.” His admission hangs heavy in the air before them and she barely has time to register it before the sound of Alexander on the staircase rouses her. “So, you can absolutely ask him to set you up with Joel, but I doubt very much that it will go in your favour.”

She’s about to shake her head, to protest, but Alexander enters the kitchen. His dark blonde hair is still wet from the shower, and water droplets glisten above the collar of his blue t shirt. “What’s all the fuss about? I could hear you two yahoos laughing from the washroom.” His gaze turns to her, and he smiles. “Morning kid. Good to see you up and at it.”

“Good morning, Alex,” She mumbles. “I’m sorry about last night.”

His expression softens evermore, and he shakes his head. “Nonsense. I just hope you’re feeling alright today.”

She swallows hard, the throbbing in her head still apparent, but more tolerable after coffee. Gustaf’s words echo in the back of her mind. “Hanging in there.”

“It is suspiciously quiet in here now, boys.” Alexander murmurs as he procures an espresso cup from the same cupboard.

Gustaf clears his throat and closes his script. “Just an inside joke between the three of us. I'm off. I've got an audition with HBO on Thursday that I'd like to feel at least somewhat prepared for. Thanks again for your ever-generous hospitality, brother.” He stands up from the table, and slings an arm around her shoulders, kissing the top of her head as he does so. “You remember what I told you, hm?”

She nods her head. How could she possibly forget? “Yeah, Goose.”

“You coming little brother?” He cocks an eyebrow at Bill. The middle Skarsgård nods his head in the affirmative and leans over to tell Alexander something in their native tongue. It makes the eldest brother smile, and he throws an arm around Bill's shoulders to bid him goodbye.

Bill wraps his arms around her, and this is always when the full gravity of their stature hits her. “Good seeing you again, kid. Take care of yourself, hm?”

She beams at him and nods her head. “’Til next time, Bill.”

She listens for the familiar chime of the front door closing, before lifting herself onto the counter next to Alexander. “I found this in the spare room closet,” she murmurs, gesturing to his sweater. “If you mind, I can go change-

“I don't mind at all, kid.”

Alexander had been an integral part of her life for the better part of five years now, and in all that time she was simply grateful just to call him a friend- a wonderful one at that. But then she remembers the lingering touches, the playful- yet somehow scorching teasing of any new love interest, the general (and sometimes overpowering) sensation of sheer want for him at the end of a long night. She views him in a new light now; the crystalline water droplets from before have evaporated into his sun-kissed skin, but his hair still bears the weight of moisture and the sudden urge to card her fingers through it is overwhelming. “I have something to tell you,” He murmurs.

This is it, she thinks.

“It's about last night.”

And suddenly, the nausea that had been so persistent an hour ago, returns in full force and she swallows hard to keep the coffee from rising in her throat. “Alex, if it's something I did or said… I'm sorry.”

He shakes his head and lifts his gaze to hers, her azure orbs are alight with a fire she doesn’t quite recognize. “None of that, kid. It's Joel. He wants to take you out for dinner sometime soon and I guess he wanted my blessing first.”

“Oh.”

“Mhm.” He confirms. “Seems you made quite the impression on him last night.”

And god, she thinks this news would have been the best news to receive an hour ago. But then sixty-two minutes elapsed, and in that space of time, Gustaf handed her his eldest brother’s gift-wrapped secret, and here they are. “I didn’t mean to,” She mumbles.

And Alexander laughs at this, and in that moment, she swears it’s her favourite sound in the whole world. “You never do, kid. There’s just something about being around you that’s as effortless as breathing. You take up the perfect amount of space. It’s quite a thing to behold, actually.” He sips his espresso, his intense gaze on her makes her feel more naked than she’s ever been before. “So, what do you say?”

She offers him a half-shrug. “What do you say?”

He blanches now. “What do you mean? This is entirely your decision.”

“You know him better than I do. You also know me, Alex. What do you say?”

And like grains of sand through fingertips, his resolve crumbles before her very eyes. “I can’t quite articulate what it’s like to watch someone accomplish in a night, what I’ve thought about for nearly five years. That is entirely on me, though,” He trails off, setting his empty cup against the counter. “But he’s a good guy, kid. I’d be lying if I said anything to the contrary.”

Her throat constricts as she mulls over what to say next. “Why did you wait, Alex?”

There is a vast vulnerability to him that she hasn’t been privy to until now. And in this moment, he isn’t Alexander Skarsgård the movie star- Hollywood and Sweden’s most eligible bachelor. He is her best friend; the six-foot-four dork with the adorable overbite, the guy who can’t pronounce his ‘ands’ properly because of his accent. He is the man who would give the shirt off his back to anyone in need. A true, golden heart beats in his chest, it keeps him alive, propelling him towards greatness. “I don’t operate the way normal people do, and you know that. It’s like… I repel relationships. It’s the distance and the timing that throws people off, kid.” His eyes darken. “They’re drawn to the glitz at first; the premiers, and the award ceremonies, the tropical vacations. But then I miss birthdays and weddings and engagement parties, and no one ever seems to want to stick around after the dust settles.” He allows himself a deep, steadying breath. “And I’ve never blamed them at all for that. But then you came into my life, and we weren’t ever in a relationship in the traditional sense, but you became a really good friend- one of the best, and you stuck around." He sighs heavily. "You just... feel like coming home, kid. And in all this time, that feeling has never wavered or changed."

“Alex, I-

“So why did I wait? It’s a good question,” He clears his throat. “I waited because I thought that the minute I laid everything out on the line for you, you wouldn’t want it.” And god, she can feel her heart cracking under the weight of his honesty. “And even saying it now, I know I should have automatically given you the benefit of the doubt. But you’ve been around for all of it, kid. You've picked up the pieces. You know how ugly it can get.”

She swallows hard, heart thrumming wildly in her chest. “Come closer,” She murmurs. Alexander hesitates a beat before settling into the space between her legs, his denim jeans tickle the velvet softness of her inner thighs, and she shivers into the sensation. His face is mere inches away from hers now, and she can smell the refreshing scent of bodywash on his skin, the sharp citrus shampoo from his damp hair. “I want to try Alex,” It comes out as a whisper, but he catches it because his lips twitch into a small smile. “If you want to.”

His gaze travels to her lips, and he closes the distance between them to kiss her. His massive, warm hands find purchase in her hair as their kiss deepens, and every fiber of her being screams at her that this is it- this is what they’ve both been waiting for. When he eventually pulls away, he rests his forehead against hers to try to regulate his breathing. His gives her thighs a gentle squeeze and places a tender kiss to her forehead. “I absolutely want this, kid.”

And she believes him because she wants it just as bad.

#forever soft #alexander skarsgard #alexander skarsgard x reader #alexander skarsgard imagine #alexander skarsgard oneshot #alexander skarsgard fanfic #alexander skarsgard fluff #alex sstuff #writing #drabble #fluff #alexander skarsgard rpf #rpf

[halfway-happyyy]

Back at it again friends, with this long-awaited ask: I’ve had this vision in my head that Alex and his person are making out on the couch and it’s cold outside so the fireplace is going and the tv long forgotten. But they start to kind of grind on each other and they slip a hand into Alex’s pants and he cums in his pants. And you’re so in love because his eyes got glassy and hazy but he’s so embarrassed because he’s not a teen anymore. But she’s so endeared obviously

A short and fluffy, smutty piece ensues beneath the cut 💖

The first few days after he returns home from being away from her for three months are always the sweetest. It’s being able to cook for him again, it’s re-memorizing his body; the delicate creases next to his eyes, the way goosebumps rise in patterns over his arms when she touches him a certain way, the way his heartbeat tattoos rhythms against her temple. Aloneness is lovely, but it’s nothing compared to falling into bed at the end of a long day to the notion that he is next to her and that when the sun rises in the morning, he’ll rise right along with her.

No alarms, no planes, no plans.

“Wakey, wakey kid…”

His voice, gravelly from the brunt of recent sleep, rouses her from her own and she awakens to the notion that he is straddling her body, his face mere inches from her own. His minty-fresh breath fans out over her in warm waves and a contented sigh escapes her parted mouth. Gaze drifting to his nightside table a few feet away, an impossibly worn and tattered passport, a couple of crumpled luggage tags, and a half-drunk glass of water litter the small wooden space and she smiles softly to herself. They are talismans of his that she had no idea she missed until they simply weren’t there anymore. She traces a delicate finger down the bridge of his nose, the outline his soft pink lips, the rough, dark-blonde stubble beneath his chin. His grown-out hair hangs over her face, tickling her cheek, and causes her to giggle into the sensation.

“Good morning, Alex.”

He bends forward to nuzzle his nose into the crook of her neck, inhales deeply, and she can feel his lips against her curve up into a wide smile. “God, I’ve missed you.” He sighs after a while.

I’ve missed you too, Alex… doesn’t quite quantify how she feels now, so she simply circles her arms around his toned back a little tighter, savoring the luxurious weight of him atop of her.

Their morning bleeds into afternoon and unlike most times, there ceases to be a frenzied rush to their flow; there are no zoom meetings or phone calls, no film scripts, or deadlines to be met. The sky outside of their townhouse is an ominous steel-grey, the threat of colder weather and snow hangs heavy in the air, but as she watches Alexander add another log to their roaring fire, the cold seems blissfully far away.

“I must say… you’ve got yourself a great ass, Skarsgård.” She murmurs as Alexander stands back up, dusting the palms of his hands off against his thighs as he does so.

A grumbled chuckle, he tosses a wink her way. “Thanks, Magnus gave it to me.”

She tosses her head back and laughs at that. “How very kind of him.”

Alexander joins her on the sofa, pats the top of his thighs as he does so, a silent command for her to take her rightful place atop of him. “Come here, you.”

She is more than happy to oblige him, and when she’s comfortable, she wraps her arms around his neck, her chin resting gently in the crook between his neck and shoulder blade. They’re content not to speak for a while; it’s always been enough just to simply be able to touch him again after so long. She drinks in the rather intoxicating scent of him; charcoal body wash, remnants of his favourite cologne, mixed with subtle perspiration. She pulls away from his neck to gaze at him. Dark circles- no doubt the affect of long hours on an airplane, bloom in the spaces under his glassy blue eyes, and the creases next to them seem a little deeper today.

“You’re tired.” She observes, quietly.

Alexander nods against her. “Only a little.”

It’s a lie, but she lets him get away with it this once.

Returning to the warmth of his neck, she places open-mouthed kisses to the velvet-soft skin there, and to the underside of his jawline. She smiles against him when she hears his breath quicken, knows exactly the effect this kind of treatment has always had on him. Her fingers tug at the hem of his t shirt and he wordlessly lifts his arms above his head so that she can rid him of the useless material. She rakes her fingernails over the soft, smooth flesh of his toned chest, her breath baited as Alexander squirms in mild anticipation beneath her.

“Kiss me,” She whispers.

Alexander gazes at her, a large hand moves from his side up to her neck, where skilled fingers find purchase in her hair, pulling her down towards his eager mouth. It always starts out slow and languid, and she’s constantly in awe of how much it always feels like the first time. Teeth graze her bottom lip, his tongue dances along the sensitive skin, soothing the fire behind the nibble, and soon the kiss is so much more than what it started as. Alexander’s cock stirs against her, straining hard in the crotch of his favourite joggers. When she pulls away from his hot, wet mouth, they are both breathless and entirely ready for more.

“You missed this, didn’t you?” He murmurs.

She reaches for his hand, raises it to her parted lips and sucks two of his fingers into her mouth. She doesn’t answer him, just simply nods her head and continues to suck on his long digits as she starts to grind down on his covered erection. She moans around him as Alexander’s eyes fall shut and he drops his head back, his lips parted and slack in unbridled pleasure.

She lets his fingers fall from her mouth as she eases off him a little bit to push a hand into the waistband of his boxers, to the warmth of his hard cock. A bead of pre-come blooms from his sensitive head and drips down the underside of his shaft, and the urge to taste the salty fluid is almost too much for her to bear. Grasping his thick girth firmly in her hand, she begins to jerk him off at a slow and steady pace. Dropping her head back into the crook of her neck, she moans against him.

“You’re not going to last long like this, Alex…”

A primal groan, long and low, bubbles up from the base of his throat as he bucks his hips against her to glean more friction.

“I can feel it in the way that you’re already trembling beneath me.” She nips at a sensitive spot just below his ear and he cries out against her at the overwhelming sensation of pain and pleasure.

“Feels so good…” He growls.

She nips at his neck again, a little bit harder this time, and speeds up her movements against his cock. “Show me, Alex. Look at me,” He lifts his head from the back of the sofa and peers up her with glassy eyes, his pupils almost entirely blown over with pleasure. She brushes a thumb over his red, swollen lips. “Make a mess for me, Alex.”

It’s her words, and the desperation with which they are whispered, that gets him going and before she really knows what’s happening, he starts to unravel beneath her. He cries out against her as his movements grow careless, his cock twitching in her grasp and when he arches up against her, her hand is dripping with his hot, wet come. His joggers are ruined, and she smiles down at him, and at the notion that he did exactly as he was told. The sides are rarely reversed, so when they are, it is a beautiful sight to behold.

They are silent as Alexander winds down from the aftershocks of his orgasm, his body still spasming beneath her. After a few moments, he reaches toward her to bury his reddening face into the warmth and comfort of her chest. “That hasn’t happened to me since I was a teen…”

She laughs easily and rubs a hand in reassuring circles against his back. “Let’s go get you cleaned up big guy, hm? There’s much more fun to be had.”

#alexander skarsgard #alexander skarsgard x reader #alexander skarsgard imagines #alex sstuff #writing #drabble #smut #i just wanna suck on his fingers - is that too much to ask???

[halfway-happyyy]

This piece was inspired by this lovely ask that I received an inexplicably long time ago: Seeing an intense and loving sex scene Alex just shot and it lowkey breaks your heart but you don’t show anything bc you don’t want him to get the wrong idea and think you don’t support him but he can tell you’re upset and now /his/ heart breaks bc he can tell you try SO hard not to break down in front of him all day long so he confronts you about it and you tell him everything and that you’re not angry just very sad and you can’t help it and you’re sorry and he shushes you and sweet sex ensues

fluffy smut ensues- enjoy, friends.

“Hi love,” A crewman on Alexander’s latest film, and the first friendly face she had come across since arriving on set, wrapped a free arm around her shoulder and kissed her cheek lovingly. “Alright?” He asked.

“Alright,” She smiled and set her purse down by her feet. “How’ve you been Pete? Busy, I bet.”

Peter shrugged and removed the headset from his ears. “Absolutely. Always. You uh… chose an interesting day to visit us,” He remarked with a quirk of a wildly unkempt eyebrow.

“Oh?” She asked and craned above the heads of the scant crew in search of Alexander. “I was hoping to surprise him…”

Peter cleared his throat and cocked his head to the side, his expression uneasy. “They are about to film their second and final love scene of the shoot.”

She swallowed hard and settled back onto the balls of her feet, her heart thrumming wildly in her chest. Two options suddenly become apparent to her: she could cut and run; blame it on a forgotten zoom meeting, or a lunch date with an old friend in the same city. Alternatively, she could swallow back the nausea rising steadily in her throat and remain rooted to the spot. Both options left little room for pride and her cheeks flamed under that realization, and the burning set lights around her. “Oh, that’s alright.” She smiled, shyly.

“You sure?” Peter asked. “Georgia’s camp have asked for a closed set to maximize privacy, and the entire thing was choreographed this morning, so we’re hoping to squash it in as few takes a possible.”

She appreciated his honesty and the soft, protective tone of his voice immensely, but it did little to quell the nervousness that prickled at her unpleasantly. “Sounds great,” She muttered under her breath.

Someone called out to Peter and he rubbed a hand over the rounded curve of her shoulder, offered her up a reassuring smile. “In any regard, he has been waiting weeks to see you. Cannot stop talking about it. He’ll be over the moon that you’re here.” He offered her one last knowing look before wandering off in the direction of the disembodied voice.

She had known exactly what the script entailed before production on the film had even begun, so this could hardly have been a surprise, and yet inexplicably, she still felt blindsided by it.

She watched Alexander and his co-star enter the set, designed to look like a minimalist bedroom. Laughing and talking easily about something, as if they weren't just about to film a painfully intimate scene. Without warning, the lights around them dimmed almost to nil, and the film’s head spoke into a megaphone.

“Alright guys, here we go. We know what we’re about to be doing, we want total silence, let’s try and get this thing smashed in as few takes as possible, shall we?” A dismal murmur of agreement resounded throughout the crowd as the director counted down and shouted action.

She couldn’t make out what was being said between the two actors, but she watched them approach each other with a familiarity reserved only for two people who had grown to know each other in ways solely attributed to unforgiving hours on a movie set. She watched him approach her, watched a large, sure hand entwine itself into her golden tresses, watched him bend toward her, two pairs of lips locked in a dance only they knew. It was difficult to watch and not imagine the effect it was having on him, but a past conversation swam into her mind's eye, and aided in easing her trepidation the slightest bit.

“It's never how you think it's going to be kid,” He had assured over warming amber beers, in a quiet corner of their favourite pub a year ago. “It’s quite possibly the least sexy aspect of the job. And yes, it is intimate. How could it not be? But there are so many people watching you and- so many of them have differing opinions on how it should be performed…” He sighed, frustrated. “Once I know I'm doing one, I like to try and get it out of the way as soon as possible.” He read the uneasy look on her face like an open book and reached for her hand, squeezing it thrice across the marred wooden tabletop. “It's always been you, kid.”

As his co-star began to undress him, working deft fingers down the front buttons of his shirt, she pulled it away from his shoulders with an unreadable expression etched on her face. Towered above her, Alexander stood motionless as she worked the belt from his jeans, and shimmied the pants from his thighs until he was clad before her in only a pair of boxers. Unexpected laughter between the two of them. Light and airy and utterly unfamiliar, caused waves of nausea to swell in her belly and she forced herself a deep, steadying breath. A brief moment where the two kissed each other again, before he pulled away to begin removing her clothing. Anxiety getting the better of her, she dropped her gaze to the floor and bit down on the hollow of her cheek until she could taste the metallic brine of blood on her tongue. She closed her eyes and inhaled deeply again, counting down from eight in her head and trying desperately not to spiral on the spot. When she opened them, it was to the realization that they had fallen into bed together, her slight form tucked in between Alexander's open legs like it was meant to be there since the beginning of everything. Though the actress appeared nude in every sense of the word, she knew better. A thin, flower-shaped piece of beige tape covered each nipple, and she sported a flimsy pair of nude-coloured underwear. Alexander had been no better- a simple, nude tube sock was the only thing shielding his manhood from her and everyone else in the room and the notion of it made her dizzy.

It was obvious now that they had choreographed this scene beforehand. Every kiss, every touch, every moan or groan was exactly how it was supposed to be. And the further she watched, the further her heart edged towards the precipice of shattering. So many emotions. She was surprised the most to feel anger; and not at all at him, but at herself. This was his job. His passion. Something that was as easy and instinctive to him as breathing. It was something that though he denied it staunchly, coursed through his blood and exited his body in waves of raw talent.

But watching him touch the undeniably beautiful woman beneath him in ways similar to how he touched her? And always in the privacy of their own home, shielded from view of anyone and everything else? Unimaginably difficult.

“Alright Georgia, I want you to kind of pepper Alex's chest with kisses as he thrusts once more against you, and as he does that, you are going to orgasm and then he is going to follow suit.”

They did exactly as they were told, and she watched in unbridled agony as the two of them tumbled over the proverbial edge, one right after the other. Sounds of their feigned lovemaking filled every square inch of room and very nearly caused her to leave right then and there. But then, mercifully, someone called cut, and the actress extricated herself from him and the torture ceased.

“Alright, that’s a wrap on today friends. Take care, we'll see you all in a couple of days.”

Releasing a lungful of pent-up air that felt like it had taken years to come to fruition, she watched Alexander wander off the set in search of clothing. Reaching down, she retrieved her purse and stole herself for her big reveal. He had asked her to visit him a couple of weeks ago, but their schedules had hardly meshed and it turned out that this was the only time until the end of the year that she could take her leave from work.

The weighty realization that she had never before needed to work up the courage to speak to him was not lost on her. But somehow, after the wildly pseudo-intimate event in which she had just been privy to- even surrounded by the skeleton crew, a knot of unease wound itself tight in the pit of her belly. It hindered her from approaching him directly, so she stood back while he finished speaking with a crew member, her gaze downcast, thoughts spiraling.

“Kid?”

Her nickname- one that had been bestowed upon her the night they first crossed paths, roused her from her anxious reverie and she offered him a meager smile. “Hi, Alex…”

He rushed toward her without hesitation, throwing his long arms around her in an embrace that her body had been craving for weeks. He smelled exactly how she had remembered leaving him, only with a subtle hint of something else- some other foreign flowery scent and instinctively, she reeled back from him, gaze weary.

“God, it's good to hold you again.” He pulled away from her to hold her at arm’s length; could sense the apprehension rolling from her in waves and he frowned. “Did you just get here?”

She swallowed the sizeable lump rising in her throat. “Uh, about an hour ago.”

Realization sunk in behind his eyes; she could see it in the way that the glitter in his blue orbs dulled, and he sighed heavily. “Kid- I had no idea you were coming-

“It was a surprise, Alex.”

He reached another arm around her, pressed his lips to the top of her head in a gentle kiss. “I'm over the moon about it, honestly.” He pulled back from her to caress a hand to her cheek. “I'm just going to grab a few things and then we can head out, okay?”

She could feel the biting sting of looming tears behind her eyes, the words too heavy in the hollow of her throat, so she offered him a nod instead.

Their journey home- a beautiful, rented apartment in West London had been quiet save for the cacophony of masses of passerby. Random pieces of conversations in a myriad of accents, music from someone’s portable sound system, all helped to distract her from the thoughts swirling in her brain. Sitting next to him on the tube, she could feel the familiar warmth radiating from him in waves, and that seemed to abate the anxiety somewhat. Large fingers clasped together on his lap; he was staring at something unseen on the subway floor. The urge to say anything had been palpable minutes ago, but when she went to open her mouth, the precise words eluded her.

“Our stop’s next, kid.”

He rose from the seat ahead of her, offering his hand which she accepted gratefully. As the train trundled to a halt, a voice boomed loud on the speaker above them, but she could not make out what was relayed and then the doors opened for them, fresh air greeting the pair of them like old friends. She had visited England enough times now to know the feeling of an imminent rainfall; the dense moisture that pervaded every square inch of space around them and made her long for a cozy sweater, or blanket.

They walked in silence for about five minutes before the wrought-iron railing of their apartment became visible, and another heap of invisible weight dissipated from her at the notion that she would be in the comfort and warmth of their own space soon. Alexander fit the key into the lock, and opened the door for them, allowed her to wander inside first. Arriving earlier that morning, she had tried to make the space as cozy as she could before she left for the film studio, knowing that he would be spending at least another two months there during post-production. Alexander tossed the keys onto the wooden shelf in the front foyer, kicking his beloved desert boots off with a dull thud. Peeling the blue and grey plaid coat from his body, he hung that up in the front closet and reached for the coat that she had just shed, doing the same. Eyeing her in the fragmented light filtering in through the stained-glass window at the top of the front door, his expression was unreadable.

“I think we should talk about earlier this afternoon, kid.”

Instinctively, she rubbed a hand over her bare arm to ward off the chill that had finally settled itself into her bones and shook her head. “It’s not necessary, Alex.”

He clicked his tongue, gave his head a slight shake. “Don’t do that, kid. It obviously upset you, and I don’t blame you for that at all, but we should talk about it.”

“What is there to talk about, Alex?” She asked, her tone regrettably biting. “What you do in the confines of a film studio- on set, that’s your job. None of it concerns me.”

He sighed heavily. “If I had known you were coming, I could have asked to postpone the scene for a few days…”

“You weren’t supposed to know I was coming. That was the whole point...” Sensing that she was treading treacherous waters, she tried to switch tactics. “I’m fried from the flight in, I haven’t eaten much at all today- all of which resulted in a grotesque culmination of emotions, and I’m over it now.”

She viewed his 6’4” figure stood in the front hallway before her, large hands tucked into the front pockets of his blue jeans. He was sporting socks that she had purchased him for Christmas last year and the mere sight of them caused the lump that had dissipated a while ago to resurface in the hollow of her throat.

“Please, just talk to me.”

Anger evaded his tone- it brimmed instead with a gentle desperation, the resonance of it caused her heart to splinter a little deeper than it already was.

Words thick at the back of her throat, she leveled her gaze with his. “It hurt, Alex.”  

There it was.

“It hurt to watch you be so intimate with someone else- to watch her touch you in ways reserved only for my hands, and my fingers, and my lips…” Flames fanned from anger and shame licked at her throat, and god damnit, she could feel the impending threat of tears again. Swallowing hard, she shrugged her shoulders. “And it sounds so much like jealousy but it’s not. It goes deeper than that,” She trailed off, voice breaking, as she lifted her gaze to Alexander’s. “I need you to know that I love you, and that I’ll support you in every single endeavor. But it just gets difficult sometimes…”

His cerulean gaze downcast, he chewed anxiously at the edge of his bottom lip as he mulled over what to say. When he finally glanced up at her, saltwater glittered in the depths of his own eyes and he allowed himself a deep breath before continuing. “I’m sorry, kid.”

She could hear the fragility in his voice now, how close it was to shattering completely and, in that moment, she launched herself into his arms. The urge to feel him on her, raw and utterly overwhelming. A secure arm around her waist, an impossibly warm hand at the back of her head, he held her to him like it was the last time he would ever have the opportunity. They stood embraced like that for an unknowable amount of time, and when he pulled away, it was to take hold of her hand and lead her down the hallway to the washroom. Once there, he flicked on the light which bathed the room in a pale-yellow glow and turned to her.

“Arms up,” He murmured, softly.

Doing as she was told, she raised her arms for him and held her breath as he pulled the t shirt from her body, tossing it into the wicker hamper next to the sink. He placed warm kisses over the delicate line of her collarbone, as he undid the zipper on her jeans and shimmied the useless material from her legs. She held onto his shoulders for support as he reached around her to unclasp her bra, letting the flimsy material fall to the glossy, tiled loor beneath them. Gentle lips kissed the soft skin of her shoulder blade as he hooked two fingers into the waistband of her panties and pulled them down her legs, which she kicked off to the side. Standing back, she watched him rid himself of his own clothing in unconcealed awe, her hungry gaze raking over the definition in his chest, and at the taut, sun-kissed skin that rippled over chiseled muscles. He never failed to take her breath away.

They entered the shower together; a violent shiver wracked her body as she waited for the water to turn hot. Watching him from the far wall, she suddenly wanted him. She could feel a strong desire in the pit of her belly- where anger recently burned red-hot there, it had been replaced with a sheer need to have every inch of him make up for the hollow emptiness she had felt hours earlier.

He dipped his head beneath the steaming stream of water and beckoned her toward him. “Come here, kid.”

She walked into his open arms, wrapped her own around his frame and nestled her head against the part of his chest where she could feel the rhythmic beating of his heart against her cheek. His embrace, and the blissfully warm water rolling down her back was a healing salve for her soul and she could feel her anxiety dissipate with each passing minute they stood there. He gathered the wet hair from her shoulder in his hand and dropped it behind her back to press a series of scorching kisses up the side of her neck to her earlobe. Reaching for the shampoo bottle on the ledge, he poured a heap of the opaque liquid into the palm of his hand and began to massage it into her hair with skilled fingers. He worked it into a lather and pulled her back under the water to rinse it out, the subtly perfumed suds cascading freely down her back. Next, he worked the conditioner into her hair, and while that sat, he poured bodywash onto a sponge and began to wash her with a delicacy she was rarely privy to. She held onto him for support as he passed the soft sponge over the sensitive parts of her body, beneath her arms, the hollow crooks in the back of her knees, the soles of her feet. When he was satisfied with his work, he pulled her back under the the warm water to rinse the soap from her body and the conditioner from her hair. She was contentedly sleepy under the steady warmth; her eyelids heavy as she watched him cleanse himself of the day in which they had both endured. When he was finished, he held her in his arms again. She could feel the familiar pressure of his erection against her thigh, how it swelled harder the longer they remained embraced.

“I want you, Alex.” She murmured, earnestly.

A deep inhalation, she could feel him nod against her. Guiding her out of the stream of water, he positioned her up against the heated stones of the shower wall. She braced her arms above her, could feel him line himself up at her soaking entrance. Placing tender kisses down the ridges of her spine, he paid special attention to certain spots on her back that nearly made her sing out for him. One final kiss, and he pushed himself inside of her, reveling in her all-consuming heat. Dropping his forehead to the middle of her back, he stayed where he was for a moment to give her time to adjust to his size.

This was what she had been after from the very beginning; the sensation of him buried to the hilt inside of her, the delicious fullness of him, nearly brought a fresh batch of tears to her eyes. “So good, Alex…” She gasped.

He nodded against her; all forms of speech eluded him as he pulled back from her all-encompassing heat only to re-enter at an agonizingly slow pace. He grasped onto her hips as he found a steady tempo for himself, his fingernails digging miniscule crescent moons in her soft flesh.

“God, I’ve missed this.” He groaned, breathlessly.

Freeing a hand from her hip to snake it down to her sex, he pressed a skilled fingertip into her swollen clit, rubbing tantalizing circles into it. She raked her bottom lip between her teeth and bit down on it to keep from crying out, causing Alexander to nip at the nape of her neck in mild disapproval.

“None of that, kid. I can tell how good I’m making you feel- but I want to hear it, and I certainly don’t want you to be quiet about it.” Always in constant awe of the sheer, physical affect that his words had on her body, she could feel the familiar unravelling of pressure in the pit of her belly and she arched her back against him to glean more pleasure. “Fuck, you feel amazing…”

A telltale sign of a man nearing the edge, his thrusts had started to grow sloppy, and she clenched around him to help spur his orgasm on.

“Fuck, Alex,” She warned in a hushed tone.

He groaned against her and applied harder pressure to her clit as she stilled against him, mouth parted and slack as a pleasure-induced white-hot lightning bolt coursed through her entire body. She imagined that she could feel it from the tips of her toes to the hair follicles on her head, and she trembled violently against him as her orgasm loomed tantalizingly out of reach.

“That’s it, baby…” He coaxed, gently. “Come all over this cock, hm?”

She froze against him, a single sound worked its way up her throat and exited her mouth in the form of a broken scream, as she tumbled over the edge, her orgasm immediate and intense. Clenching around his cock unintentionally as she unwound from her high, her muscle contractions caused him to drop his head to her back as he too began to unravel above her.

Fingernails marring the soft flesh of her hips and ribs, he stilled against her and with a strangled cry, came into her in thick, warm spurts. She had been after this sensation as well if she were honest. The satisfying feeling of being filled with every ounce of come he had to give her, could never be replicated. Peppering a couple more kisses to her damp back, he reluctantly pulled from away her to marvel at his come as it dripped from her core and slid down her inner thigh.

“Beautiful,” He murmured more to himself than to anyone else.

She stood where she was, braced against the wall for support while she tried to regulate her laboured breathing. Exiting the shower, she relieved herself, and wrapped a towel around her frame to dry off. Padding over to the expansive window adjacent to the made bed, she peered out over a darkening London. Raindrops raced each other in misshapen lines down the glass panes, and she found that she was grateful for the current weather. Alexander approached her from behind, wrapping her in his arms around her waist, chin resting easily in the crook of her shoulder blade.

“London is a lot more breathtaking with you in it.”

His stubble tickled her neck and she smiled to herself. “I bet you say that to all the pretty girls.”

A subtle grumble, he turned her around so that she was facing him. Still entirely naked, he held her chin gently between his thumb and forefinger. Her gaze traversed the cutting line of his jaw, his lips, his defined nose, his sparkling cerulean orbs which glittered brilliantly as he stared at her. No smile was offered up, but the delicate creases next to his eyes deepened as he spoke. “Just you, kid.”

He brushed the calloused pad of his thumb over her flushed cheek.

“Yesterday, today, tomorrow.”

#alexander skarsgard #alexander skarsgard x reader #alexander skarsgard imagines #alexander skarsgard oneshot #alexander skarsgard fanfic #alex sstuff #writing #drabble #smut #alexander skarsgård

[halfway-happyyy]

The one where Alexander takes his girl home to Sweden

First longer piece in a hot minute! inspired by this lovely ask. Thanks for looking, and as always feedback is always appreciated. 

“They'd like to meet you, kid.”

Silence followed his statement and her bleary gaze travelled upwards to a patch of dust particles dancing in a strip of light from the parted bedroom curtain. She knew immediately who he was referring to, but that didn't mean she had to make it easy for him.

“You're going to have to be a bit more specific than that, Alex. The list of people who'd like to meet me is long and painfully distinguished.”

Alexander nuzzled his face into the crook of her neck, the subtle scruff of his beard ticklish against her delicate skin. His exasperated groan was almost inaudible. “My family, smart-ass.”

There it was.

Grace had known that this conversation was coming soon; it loomed above her head like a raincloud. She could sense it in the way he spoke of Sweden recently, could sense it in the way his ocean-blue eyes lit up at the mere mention of his brothers and sister. God, even just the idea of it was almost too intimidating to bear. Where she had come from a small, slightly broken family, he had been born into an inexplicably close and loving one. Though each of them led vastly different lives in vastly different areas of the world, they gathered amongst themselves in the beautiful country of Sweden multiple times throughout the year, and it would always be home base for him. She found the notion of it wonderful and jealousy-inducing in equal measure. She traced a feather-light fingertip down the bridge of his nose and marveled at the subtle flecks of gold amongst a sea of blue. Of all the things that she adored about his face, the deep creases next to his eyes were her favourite. They spoke novels of how much time the man spent smiling and the thought of it caused her heart to swell. “Your family doesn’t want to meet me, Alex. You want your family to meet me.” She murmured, finally.

Alexander clicked his tongue in mild protest. “That’s not true.” He took her hand in his and brought it to his mouth, brushing each of her knuckles with his lips. The warmth and sheer intimacy of the touch caused her to shiver violently and he grinned against her hand. Brushing a stray piece of hair from her face, he gazed at her for a while and finally whispered, “Come to Sweden with me, Grace.”

And partly because his soft voice bore the weight of recent sleep- but mostly because she always did have a particularly difficult time saying no to him, she squeezed his hand thrice and nodded her head. “Okay Alex.”

~

“We’re here, kid.” Alexander’s lips at her temple helped to rouse her from her gravol-induced coma and she hugged her sweater tighter to her frame as the temperature of the plane became apparent to her. He stood from his seat and stretched his arms high above his head to limber up after the lengthy flight. Opening the overhead compartment with ease, he brought down her carry-on and a single, worn duffle bag- the only piece of luggage he ever traveled with, and smiled expectantly at her. “You all set?”

Grace stifled a yawn and nodded her head, a slow, sleepy smile in place on her features. “Lead the way, my love.” She had expected a certain amount of fanfare upon exit of the terminal- she could not recount a time in recent memory where there had not been a fury of cameras and photographers upon arrival. Strangely, and most welcomely, Arlanda airport was completely void of both.

“It’s nice, isn’t it?” Alexander grinned.

She struggled to keep up with his hasty stride though the terminals- something she lovingly referred to as his airport walk. “It’s lovely.” She mused.

It was late into the evening when they finished grabbing her bag from the carousel and stepped out into the balmy Stockholm evening. Alexander’s brother Sam was already waiting for them a few cars ahead in the cue, leant against the side of a dark sedan, one long, denim-clad leg crossed over the other. “Hej hej!” He called out to them and stood from the car to wrap his arms around Alexander. They parted a few moments later, laughing at something indistinguishable. “Good to see you again, brother.” Sam beamed. “And you must be Grace…” He turned to her; a long pair of arms beckoned her forward for an embrace which she happily obliged. She was amused to discover that like Alexander, she needed to reach on tiptoes to hug the younger Skarsgård properly. She had known them to be a tall breed of men, but this? Sam broke away to gesture to the vehicle with a toothy grin. “Let’s get you two home, hm? Mum can’t wait another hour longer.”

Though the inky evening sky cloaked all of Stockholm in darkness, Grace was in utter awe of the city in which she was currently being given a rapid grand-tour of. Alexander pointed out important buildings on his left, and Sam managed to cover everything on the right side of the vehicle. She remained dazzled by the bright, twinkling lights, and was amazed at how breathtaking the city was at night. “Just wait until tomorrow, Grace.” Sam glanced at her reflection in the rearview mirror and grinned.

“We’re here, my love.” Alexander uttered for the second time that evening, as the vehicle rolled to a halt in front of their mother’s house in the south of the city. A quick glance at the clock above the car radio told her that it was just past twelve thirty in the morning, and she was surprised to see My wide awake and waiting on the porch for them. Grace swallowed hard and found that her mouth was suddenly void of all moisture, nerves churning in her belly like clothing in a washing machine. Sensing the sudden shift in her mood, Alexander exited the car and came around to her side, opening the door and crouching down to her level. “Look at me kid.” He took her hand in his and raised it to his lips, kissing her slightly clammy palm. “No need to be nervous, hm? They’re going to love you.”

Taking a deep breath, Grace smiled down at him and ventured around to the boot of the car where Sam was in the process of hauling out their luggage. “Can I help you with those?” She offered.

Sam shook his head, that same boyish grin from an hour ago still split his face in two. “Nah, there’s not much here,” He gestured over to his mother with a jut of his chin. “Besides, she’s been waiting weeks to see you both. Go on.”

Alexander waited for her at the bottom of the stone path, his hand outstretched and poised to take hers. They traversed the path together, the warmth from his hand radiated into hers and helped to calm her frayed nerves immensely. “Hi mum.” Alexander grinned when they reached her.

My’s beautiful face broke into a wide grin and Grace knew right then that Sam had come by that wonderful smile honestly. Their mother, confusingly short in comparison to her two sons, reached up on tiptoes to cradle Alexander’s face in her hands and kiss both of his cheeks passionately. He reveled in her touch, but when his time was up, he stood back to make room for Grace. My embraced her exactly as she had her son, and though she could most certainly attribute it to impending jet lag, a lump of raw emotion rose in the hollow of her throat as My kissed her cheeks. She pulled back and gave Grace's arms a warm squeeze. “So happy to finally have you both here. Please, come in.”

Once situated inside the cozy, utterly lived-in home, Grace immediately felt the tension dissipate from her limbs. On her way back to the living room after putting away her belongings in the spare room, she found herself stopped in awe in the hallway. Pictures of the family adorned almost every square inch of wall space, and inexplicably, Grace's throat constricted and she felt the familiar prickle of tears behind her eyes again.

“There you are,” Alexander smiled when he spotted her. Wordlessly, he settled beside her and reached for her hand, bringing the back of it to his lips. “You okay, kid?”

She turned to him, saltwater glittering threateningly in the depths of her eyes, and smiled. “There's so much love here, Alex.” She trailed a finger over the edge of a wooden picture frame. The photograph inside depicted six beautiful, smiling children, each of varying ages. “It's so palpable. It's in the very air we breathe right now… like magic.” Alexander hummed contentedly and bent forward to kiss the top of her head. “I want a home like this someday…” She mused.

Alexander squeezed her hand thrice and placed another kiss to the top of her head. “Someday you will.”

After a midnight snack of lingonberry jam and toast and a glass of wine to wind down from the day’s events, Grace drifted off to sleep on Alexander’s shoulder at the kitchen table. She had fought it for as long as her body would let her, but the calming lilt of muted conversation in their native tongue caused her eyelids to grow increasingly heavy until they eventually gave in to slumber altogether. Alexander must have carried her to their room, because when her eyes opened six and a half hours later, she was tucked up in the guestroom bed. Her desire to move had been nonexistent until the scent of coffee and fresh pastries found her, and her mouth watered hungrily for them. Stretching her arms above her head, she stifled a yawn and shivered as her bare feet touched the cool, hardwood flooring. She took a few moments to study the room in which she would be spending the next two weeks. The walls were washed in a pale, robins-egg blue and with an unexpected pang, it reminded her of her grandparent’s guest room in their old house back home. She gazed at the folk artwork adorning the walls, and at the wicker furniture dispersed around the room and she decided then that this could be her home for rest of her life, and she wouldn't complain one bit about it. Changing into a pair of jeans and a flannel shirt, she threw a knit cardigan over her exposed arms and padded out into the hallway outside her door. She hadn't meant for it to happen, but she stopped again in front of the dozens of picture frames and gazed at them for a long while.

Grace peered at a black and white photograph of Alexander as a child, grinning wide and standing tall above a younger looking My. “And just imagine that he ended being arguably the most attractive one out of all of us.” A beautiful voice, utterly melodic as it flowed from her mouth- bore a teasing lilt and caused Grace to startle on the spot.

She glanced over at the woman next to her, a spitting image of her mother, she had seen photos of her face several times in the past, but nothing could prepare her for the natural beauty that Alexander’s sister possessed. It was ethereal- like sunshine through a glass window and Grace smiled at her. “No, I doubt anyone would argue with me if I said that you won that one hands down.”

Eija tilted her head back as laughter bubbled up from the base of her throat like a pretty song. “It’s wonderful to finally meet you, Grace.” They chatted contentedly for the next few minutes before the allure of coffee and food became too strong, and Eija escorted Grace to the kitchen. Alexander was seated at the end of the wooden table, arms crossed over his t shirt clad chest, and in deep conversation with Sam. “How do you take your coffee, Grace?” Eija asked and reached on tiptoes for a mug at the back of the open cupboard.

“Uh, black please,” Grace could not make out what was being said, but the tone of her boyfriend’s voice had changed drastically over the course of only a few seconds and she frowned. “Are they arguing?” She whispered.

Eija dropped back onto the balls of her feet and shook her head no, her ruby-red lips quirked up into a half-smirk. “No. But they are talking politics.” She set to work brewing what to Grace, smelled like the world’s best cup of coffee and winked at her, her glassy blue eyes glittering mischievously in the bright, sunlit kitchen. “Just wait until dinner tonight… we are a large, highly opinionated family and there is plenty more where that came from.”

Grace's day had been so packed with activity that she had hardly been allotted moment to agonize over the looming family dinner. She knew deep down that there was nothing to be nervous about- that she intended on spending the rest of her life with Alexander, and that if she was lucky enough, his family would become her family too. But there was a lot of them, and the pressure to make a good impression weighed heavily on her. “You okay over there?” Alexander sidled up behind her in front of the full-length guest room mirror, resting his chin atop her head. “You’ve got your 'over-thinking-everything' face on.” She frowned back at him. “It’s still the most beautiful face in the world, kid. But I’ve known you far too long now to know when something’s on your mind.”  

She cocked her head to the side and gazed at him. She couldn't pin-point exactly when the change had occured, but she could read his face like her favourite book now. Knew where scars had started, knew the precise location of dustings of freckles. She knew what to say to make him smile, what to say to make him frown. Somehow, the stars had aligned, and she had met him and now here she was, in his home country, moments away from meeting the entirety of his family. She took a deep, steadying breath and tilted her face up to kiss the underside of his stubbled jaw. “I love you Alex.”

“I love you endlessly, Grace.”

She had been slightly taken aback at the lack of distance that existed between Alexander’s parents’ houses. She had known that they had been able to remain better friends than ever after the divorce but living within walking distance of each other seemed unheard of to Grace. Perhaps that was because her parents could hardly manage a simple hello to each other after the dust had settled.

Stellan Skarsgård’s silhouette- stark against the bright light emanating from the house behind him, stood leant against the front pillar of his porch, a full glass of red wine wedged within his grasp, which he lifted in greeting when he caught site of the emerging clan. He embraced Alexander, Eija, and My as if it was the last time he would ever have the chance to do it again, and when his gaze fell on Grace’s, he handed his wine to Alexander and pulled her in for a near-crushing embrace. When he drew back, he was absolutely beaming at her. “Grace, it is an absolute pleasure to finally put a face to the name that our Alex here, has spoken novels of. Please, come in and make yourself at home.” It was an undeniably busy house, chock-full of intentional laughter, bits and pieces of Swedish conversation, and the enticing scent of a mouth-watering feast. Grace was sat wedged between Alexander and Valter at the dinner table and was awed at how much the youngest of the boys resembled Eija, and she was surprised to note that his sass rivalled hers as well. Once the chatter had dwindled to a level white noise, Stellan rose from his seat at the head of the table and cleared his throat. “Ehm, I don’t normally make these kinds of announcements before a dinner, but tonight is a special one.” He gestured with his near-empty glass to Grace, and she felt her cheeks burn hot under the sudden onslaught of attention. “Tonight, we drink to good health, we drink to family, and we drink to our lovely, newfound Grace. Cheers, everyone.”

“Cheers to you, my love.” Alexander whispered and pressed a kiss to her temple.

Grace ate until she could not fathom scooping one more morsel of delicious food onto her plate, and she leaned back and took a deep breath, all too content to watch everyone converse and unwind from the wonderful meal they had all just experienced. After dessert, Alexander excused himself to join a heated debate at the end of the table with Eija and Valter. To her surprise, Stellan took the empty seat next to her, wordlessly topping up her empty glass. “My and I worked hard to teach them everything they know,” He murmured, blue gaze scanning the happy faces around him. “We tried to instill in them as children to question everything- and each one of them has become perspicacious, opinionated, conversationalists because of it.”

The way he spoke of his children- the obvious love and adoration he had for them caused Grace’s heart to swell in her chest and she smiled softly at him. “You both must be so proud of them.”

Stellan’s eyes twinkled in the low light of the lamps scattered around the dining room and he nodded his head slowly. “Very proud. Always.” He took another sip of his wine and turned to Grace. “I know I mentioned it already this evening but having you here in Sweden really is such a treat for all of us,” Grace’s cheeks grew pink again and she took another hearty sip of wine, savoring the slighty bitter tannin on her tongue before she swallowed, and offered him up a small smile. “Alex is an extraordinary creature, Grace. Loud and boisterous- and deeply sensitive. Almost to a fault. But humor and compassion for other people beyond all measure. Just the absolute best parts of his mother and I,” He finished off the rest of his glass and set it against the wooden tabletop with a dull thud. “He’s never brought a partner home to Sweden before, and I can’t help but be elated that it’s you he’s chosen to bring to us.”

Grace verged the edge of speechless at the sudden revelation and she swallowed hard, the kind words almost too much to comprehend. “The pleasure has been all mine, truly.” Before getting up to leave, Stellan bent down to her level and pressed a quick kiss to the apple of her cheek.

Alexander appeared next to Grace an hour later, the apples of his cheeks rosy from happiness, and the wine consumed. "Come dance with me."

Grace had just finished an in-depth conversation with Eija and cocked an eyebrow in surprise. “Right now?”

He nodded his head, his sandy blonde hair disheveled now and hanging over an eye. “Yes, right now.” He extended a hand out for her to take, which she obliged, hesitantly. He led her to a second room off the one they had just been in, and a record player sat playing on a glass table in the corner.

“Your lips are stained purple with syrah,” She giggled.

Alexander brushed a piece of hair behind her ear. “Are you having a good night, kid?”

Grace smiled and rested her cheek against his chest as they swayed along to a Bob Dylan song in the background. She reveled in the heat emanating from him, and in the familiar feeling of his heartbeat against her cheek. “I’m having a wonderful night, Alex. Sweden- your family, are a dream.” The opening chords to Girl from the North Country could be heard above the crackle of the record player, and Grace gazed up at Alexander from under enviously long lashes. “God, I love this song,” She murmured wistfully. “Hope to dance to it my wedding someday.”

Alexander held her tighter to him, oblivious to Stellan and My who were now stood side by side and watching them from the other room. He brought her hand to his lips and kissed each knuckle earnestly, knowing that one day soon he would be making that dream a reality. “Someday you will, Grace.”

@awaterfalls

#alexander skarsgard #alexander skarsgard x reader #alexander skarsgard imagines #alexander skarsgard fluff #fluff #writing #alex sstuff #disclaimer: i havent been to sweden yet so please dont drag me #who is grace?? #idk but i felt like reader needed a name for this one so bear with me folks #alexander skarsgård

[halfway-happyyy]

She’s My Kind Of Girl

AN: this started as an idea of the lovely @bskarsgardlove92‘s and i kind of just rolled with it! i hope you enjoy, and as always, feedback is welcomed and appreciated! 

synopsis: Alex dresses in drag to attend a costume party with his girl, as one half of Swedish superband, ABBA! Absolute fluff ensues!

“Though you may hail from a long and distinguished line of inexplicably talented thespians, I know you well enough by now to recognize when you're not telling me something.”

Alexander passed a serviette over the front of his mouth and swallowed back a bite of salmon, cocking an eyebrow in amusement. “I beg your pardon?”

She sipped deeply from her glass of chilled wine, and cocked her head to the side, eyeing him. “Don’t play coy with me, Alex. You were on the line with Eija when I came into the kitchen. That glint in your eyes says so much and then nothing at all in equal measure.”

“One could almost say that you know me too well, kid.”

"Almost," She grinned around the delicate rim of her glass. “Now spill it, Skarsgård.”

Alexander leaned back against the oak chair, dangling a long arm over the back of it. “Dad’s seventieth birthday is next month. Eija’s hosting a party back home for him, and she wants us to be there.”

She thought fondly of Alexander’s father often; he had been one of the first faces of his family that she’d had the privilege of meeting when her and Alexander had started taking things a little more seriously. Where her own father figure had been virtually non-existent most of the time, she was blessed to have such a wonderful father-in-law in Stellan. He was such an integral part of their lives that the thought of not returning home to Sweden to celebrate him was almost too much to bear.

“I’ll look into flights tomorrow morning. What kind of get together is it? I would imagine knowing Eija as I do, that she's got something wonderful up her sleeve?”

Alexander's lips curved up into a devilish smirk and he cocked his head to the side.

“She's hosting a costume party.”

There it was…

“God, I can only imagine the ideas that beautiful mind of yours has already dreamed up.”

Alexander tipped the rest of his wine into his mouth, his blue eyes glittering mischievously in the low light from the dining room lamp. “Hm, you know how much dad loves ABBA…”

It was the precise tone of his voice that she reckoned prepared her for what was coming next. “Oh boy,” She giggled under her breath.

“Well, I propose that we go as Björn and Agnetha.”

She mulled the thought of it over in her head, and then an idea swam into her mind's eye that caused a smirk similar to her other half's to tug the edges of her lips skyward. “I'll do it on one condition, my love.”

His eyebrow lifted in intrigue. “I'm all ears.”

“I will do it if I can be the Björn to your Agnetha.”

His laughter- utterly loud and booming, filled every square space of their home with a warm and joyous sound. When it subsided, he leveled his gaze with hers and she noticed immediately, the blush that had risen to the apples his cheeks. After a moment, he nodded his head finitely. “You've got yourself a deal, kid.”

*

She glanced at the watch face beneath the bell sleeve of her silver, sequined blouse, and sighed heavily. “C'mon dancing queen, we haven’t got all night…” Alexander emerged from the bathroom door a moment later, a blonde, perfectly styled wig fell below the cups of a filled-out bra.

“I must say,” He reached toward her to tousle the brunette wig atop of her head, a smirk in place on his features. “Silver and forest green sequins do wonders for you, kid. Or should I say- Björn.”

“Oh hush,” She giggled. “I can hardly imagine the outfit you’ve conjured up for this evening." They gazed at each other in silence for a moment before she gestured to her vanity. "Shall I do your makeup?”

Alexander shifted from foot to foot. “If you wouldn't mind,” He murmured.

She stood on tiptoes to twirl strands of blonde hair around her finger. “It would be an honour, Agnetha.”

She followed Alexander to the vanity next to their bay window and turned on the lamp so that it illuminated his face perfectly. Pulling up a photo of Agnetha on her phone for reference, she set to work. “She sometimes likes to wear bold colours on her eyes, so that’s the look we’re going for this evening.” She started the process by moisturizing and priming his face, opting out of a foundation, and using a tinted moisturizer instead. “Alright, close your eyes for me, my love.” He did as he was told, and she allowed herself a moment to admire how breathtaking he truly was. After a couple of seconds of searching, she found a palette that was made up of different shades of purple and applied a muted lavender hue over both of his lids. Wanting to go a little darker, she blended a violet shade into his creases and stood back to admire her handiwork. Nearly done, she decided to go dramatic on the eyeliner, but when she reached for her favourite tube of mascara, Alexander faltered.

“I don’t need… falsies?”

She blanched. “Alex, I don’t know if you’ve ever noticed, but your natural eyelashes are beautiful,” She took his face in her hands and gently turned it to the side, gesturing to his left eye. “Look how long and healthy they are. I think I have some cheap lashes lying around somewhere if you really want them, but I think a few coats of mascara will do wonderfully.”

He reached up to press his lips to the underside of her jaw, shaking his head. “No, I trust you.”

She kissed the tip of his nose and got back to work. “You’ve done magnificent so far. I’m just about finished…” She glanced around for her mauve pink lipstick, held a hand beneath his chin and applied the colour to his lips. “Alright, rub your lips together for me please.” She watched him do as she asked. “Now pat them together, as if you were smacking them.” She waited. “Alright, for the finishing touch,” She reached for her bottle of setting spray, told him to close his eyes, and let the mist settle over his face. “You my love, are finished and ready for the evening.

He leaned forward to inspect her handiwork closely, and a large smile grew on his face. “You’ve done a wonderful job, kid.”

She nodded towards the washroom door. “Go on then, Chiquitita. The party awaits.”

“You and your ABBA puns, huh?” Alexander smirked, before closing the door behind him.

“Oh, you ain’t seen nothing yet. Just wait until your brothers get a hold of us.” She snickered. While she waited for Alexander to wrap up, she began lacing up the white platform boots she had found weeks ago. They added an extra four inches to her height, and she fought back a giggle as she sipped the last remnants of her pre-game cocktail.

Ten minutes elapsed, and she began to feel the familiar tug of inebriation deep in her belly. Suddenly, Alexander cleared his throat. “I’m coming out. Are you ready?”

“I’ve literally never been more ready in my life.” She deadpanned.

Alexander emerged from the washroom, and all she could do was gape at his figure as he stood poised in the doorway. Lord knows where, but he had managed to find a hot pink jumpsuit with a silver-sequined trim around the neckline and a heart-shaped cutout that showed off his adorable, trim bellybutton perfectly. He donned glossy, white boots on his feet that only added to his seemingly immense height. “Well, what do you think?” He asked, dubiously.

She swallowed hard. “I have lots of feelings about it actually… but our car is here, and your father awaits.” She held her arm out for him to take. “Shall we go, my beautiful Agnetha?”

Alexander accepted her arm gratefully and bent down to press a kiss to her cheek. “Lead the way, Björn.”

“What are your brothers going as?” She asked, as they slid into the backseat of the sedan.

“Uh, I think Bill and his family said that they were going as Disney characters. Gustaf and Valter are going as Top Gun’s Maverick and Goose, respectively,” He paused so that they could share a laugh at that. “And I’m not sure yet what Sam and his family are doing.”

She scratched contemptuously at the back of her head. “I hate this wig already.”

Alexander snorted into his drink. “But it looks so good on you… the way it kind of frames your face in that ‘the 70’s called and they want their hair back’ kind of way…”

She rolled her eyes. “It’s the heart-shaped bellybutton window for me.”

Alexander guffawed loudly. “Oh really? We're playing that game? Well then, it’s the extra four or five inches that you’re wearing but you still don’t reach past my sternum, for me.”

They rounded the corner to Stellan’s street, and laughter bubbled up out of her mouth like a song. “It’s the fact that you look better than most women I know, for me.” This sent Alexander into such a frenzy that she paid the driver herself. “Alright, Agnetha, I have a dream and it involves you exiting this vehicle tonight,” She nudged his back to get him out of the open car door. “Let's go, girlfriend.” They ambled up the pathway hand-in-hand and stood giggling in front of Stellan’s door. Roaring laughter and bits and pieces of broken Swedish and English conversation could be heard from inside as her finger hovered above the doorbell. “You ready?”

Alexander nodded, finitely. “Go on then,”

She rang the bell and waited for what felt like years, before the door flung open and Eija greeted them in a demure, feline costume. Her face was disbelieving at first, but then her painted-on whiskers twitched; she cracked and laughter roared from her belly in happy waves. When she could speak again, she shook her head gleefully. “Come in, come in you two. What an honour to have one half of the world’s greatest band with us!” She ushered them into Stellan’s lively home, the scent of a freshly-cooked feast hung tantalizing in the air, and made her mouth water hungrily. “Just wait until papa sees you!” She clapped her hands merrily, pulling them into the adjacent living room.

Their entrance caused mass hysteria; pure laugher on a level that was hard to fathom. Gustaf approached them first, a pair of sunglasses sat perched atop his head, and he was sporting a mustache. Clad in a pair of army-green coveralls, the badge on his chest simply read, ‘Gus.’ “I have to say that when Alex first told me what the two of you were planning, this was not what I had in mind…” He scratched absentmindedly at the bridge of his nose, his smile wry. “But you two absolutely knocked it out of the park. Well done, brother.” He belly laughed, and wrapped an arm around Alex’s shoulders, and pressed a kiss to her cheek. “I can’t wait until dad sees you.”

Valter appeared before them next, clad in the exact same costume as Gustaf accept that his badge read, ‘Maverick’, and he had on over his blue eyes, a pair of mirrored Rayban aviators. “Mamma Mia, Agnetha! Such lovely bosoms you have!”

A hand appeared out of the abyss and sneaked its way toward Alexander’s ample breasts, but the younger Skarsgård's plan was foiled before he could get there with Alexander slapping it away just in the nick of time. “Touch them and die, Valter.” He beamed, devilishly.

Valter's grin was sheepish. “My apologies Agnetha- Björn.”

She tossed a wink his way. “Turns out she can take care of herself just fine.”

“Alright, alright, where are they?” Stellan’s achingly familiar voice- unmistakable anywhere, boomed throughout the room. When he caught sight of them, he stood stock-still and tilted his head back, his rolling laughter loud and genuine. It caused pleasant goosebumps to rise in waves over her arms, and she couldn’t help but laugh along with him. “This is it,” He announced. “I couldn’t dare to ask for another thing after this. My eldest boy and his love coming in drag as Agnetha and Björn? This is seventy, folks!” He closed the distance between them to wrap them both in a crushing bear hug. When he pulled away, his eyes were glittering brightly beneath the low light of the many lamps scattered around the living room. “How unbelievably wonderful it is to see you both here.” He kissed both of their cheeks over again, his smile wide and utterly contagious. “On a totally unrelated note- that you and Björn here have similar situations happening… ehm, up top, is really quite miraculous, isn’t it?”

Alexander rolled his azure eyes, laughing loudly at that. “Happy birthday, dad.”

“And what a wonderful birthday it turned out to be. Come, come. We have much to discuss.”

The night carried on in much the same fashion; drinks were had (and spilt), laughter was shared, pictures were taken- and all the while, she just felt unimaginably blessed to be a part of it all. Closer towards the evening’s finish, she felt Alexander’s hand tighten around her own, and she knew then, without a shadow of a doubt that this was her family. This was where she belonged.

#literal ICONS #who doesn't love little ABBA?? #alexander skarsgard #alexander skarsgard x reader #alexander skarsgard imagine #alexander skarsgard oneshot #alexander skarsgard drabble #drabble #writing #fluff #alex sstuff

[halfway-happyyy]

I would love something a little angsty with Alex getting annoyed because the reader won't open up to him fully and let him take care of her but he doesn't realise it's because she's independent (yay girl power) and is kind of scared of depending on him incase she loses him and ends up being alone again but it ends all fluffy and cute! 🥺

btw I really love your writing , it always makes me so happy!! 🥰

Thank you for the support my friend! Here ya go, hope you like it 💜

“Your mother did not raise you with a wolf in your chest so you could howl over losing a man.”

As the March sun filtered in through the parted drapes of the penthouse window, you marvelled at the miniscule dust particles dancing in the bright strip of light, how they churned and drifted on in no particular direction. Your lover had yet to wake up and save for the cacophony of the unfamiliar city waking up around you, the only other noise in your room was of his soft snores. You couldn't be sure what time it was; the sunlight pouring in offered little indication. A lingering headache from the night before- a by-product of the alcohol consumed, throbbed incessantly at your temples and you closed your eyes and took a deep breath to centre yourself. When it was quiet like this- when you couldn't spot his impossibly weather-worn suitcase, or the tattered burgundy passport -tangible evidence of the life of a man who greeted aloneness like an old friend- you could almost picture the future you both fantasized so often about. Alexander shifted next to you then, the white cotton sheet falling to rest below his toned abdomen. Turning onto your side, you traced the smattering of freckles adorning the edge of his collarbone like constellations in the sky. Though he was off on a four-month long shoot the next morning, it was not lost on you how wonderful it was to know somebody so intimately, and how extraordinary that of all the people in the world, you got to dream next to him most evenings.

“You’re a million miles away,”

His voice bore the brunt of recent sleep and made you homesick for something you couldn’t put a finger on. “I’m right here sunshine,” You raised the palm of your hand to his cheek, caressed the warm, stubbled skin there, and watched a sleepy grin bloom on his face. “See?” You smiled at him.

“I see you,” He whispered. You regarded each other for a while, neither of you rushing to fill the silence until he traced a fingertip along the line of your jaw. “What were you thinking of just then?”

“I was thinking of how I'll never willingly drink vodka again, as long as I live.”

Nuzzling in to the warm hollow of your neck, his muffled chuckle sent a pleasant shiver through your body. He pressed a kiss to you and asked, “What were you really thinking of, though?”

You sighed softly. “I was thinking of how nice it would be to live in this moment for the rest of my days,” swallowing hard, you continued. “But that's woefully unrealistic so I will be content with however long this lasts.”

Alexander pulled away to gaze at you, his expression dubious. “Why is it unrealistic to think we could have many moments like this one?”

An almost imperceptible shift had occurred in your relationship recently that had become increasingly difficult to ignore. Where he had always been content to let everything in his life take a backseat to his career, he had started actively talking about a life in Sweden that didn't necessarily involve film. You indulged him every single time, of course. Usually, these conversations took place late into the evening, with you both nose-to-nose between the sheets. “Let’s go to Sweden,” He’d whisper. And you’d nod your head and say, “Okay Alex. Take me there…” And you would fall asleep to his voice; to the dreamy lull of his accent as he spoke of the life he knew as a boy, and of the life he wanted with you one day.

“We just live different lives right now, Alex.”

He blanched. “What on earth does that mean?”

You swallowed hard. “It means that when I can swing it with my job- I take two weeks off to visit you in a random city. I pay the plane fare-

“Don’t do that.” He murmured, lowly. “I offered to pay for your trip here, kid. Multiple times. You refused me every single time, so please don’t sit there and tell me that I don’t at least try.”

“How do you think that makes me feel, though? That what- the man that I’m currently seeing makes exponentially more money than I do, and so he should then feel obligated to pay for my every want and need? I’ve done alright for myself my entire life, Alex.”

I’ve done alright without anyone.

“I know you have.”

“I think,” You sighed softly. “That what we have going for us right now works well.”

A humorless laugh exited his mouth in the form of a puff of air and he uttered something under his breath in Swedish. “Of course, it works. It’s no strings attached in the most basic way. We get what we want from one another, and then we head off in different directions until we feel the itch again. It works, but it’s not enough.”

It’s not enough.

Those words rattled around in your brain, and when you repeated them, they tasted bitter on your tongue. “It was enough when we met. It was enough when birthdays and family gatherings were missed. It was enough until three or four months ago, when you suddenly decided that you wanted more. How did that come about, Alex?”

He shifted onto his back; his blue gaze trained on the ceiling above him. “I am so fucking sick of missing out on those things though,” Tossing his hands into the air in frustration, he took a deep breath. “It’s just time, kid. I can feel it in my bones. I want things with you that I’ve never wanted with anyone else before. I want a life with you- more than two or three weeks at a stretch. I want months and years and possibly even decades with you,” He cleared his throat and continued. “But- and I’d be lying if I said I hadn’t noticed it before, that I know that something about it scares you. I can feel how tense you become at the slightest mention of a life together and you don’t have to tell me why, I don’t know that I’m owed that, but I certainly do wonder.”

You turned onto your back and clasped your hands over your stomach, the prickle of looming tears behind your eyes suddenly made you angry. “Like a moth to a flame, I am intrinsically drawn to people who make habits out of leaving when they’ve gotten what they wanted and I’ve made the mistake of making homes out of people before, Alex.” You shook your head, could feel the lump rising steadily in the hollow of your throat. “And every single time it happens, I’m left homesick and alone in the end. And I’ve got no one to blame for it but myself. So please forgive me if I’m just not there yet.”

His expression was unreadable as he turned back onto his side to view you fully. “You haven’t done anything wrong,” He murmured. “I know how much it hurts to have your heart broken; I’ve been down that road more times than I’d like to admit, and I know how difficult it is to pick yourself back up from it. So, I can appreciate how well you guard yourself. But I’m laying it all out on the line for you, kid.” He reached for your hand and brought the back of it to his lips. “And if this is something you think that you might genuinely want- take your time. However much of it you may need. I know the days ahead may not be easy, but please know that you aren’t alone. I’m not going anywhere.”

And a weight that you had forgotten was even there dissipated from your chest in that moment. Though trepidation lingered, it was met with a faint light at the end of the tunnel. Alexander- your sunshine boy. You shifted back onto your side so that you were facing him, your foreheads nearly touching. You inhaled deeply and offered him a small, knowing smile. “Alex?”

“Mhm?”

“Take me to Sweden.”

His azure eyes lit up at the mere mention of home. “Right now?”

You nodded, contentedly. “Right this very second.”

He pressed a gentle, lingering kiss to your forehead and began.  

“There’s something wonderful about the idea of a home on the water…”

#asks #alex sstuff #drabble #fluff

[halfway-happyyy]

alexander is 100% the type of hookup who will toss you around the bed like a ragdoll after a few drinks and then morph into a total Dad™ afterward. he's concerned you haven't consumed enough water? here's 3 ice cold bottles. can he bring you any snacks in bed? have a plate of pretzels and boursin cheese.

#you cant change my mind #total dad vibes #idk what it is #he seems like a nurturer #a concept #alex sstuff

[halfway-happyyy]

Sleep on the Floor

AN: I’ve thought about this concept on and off for a while now, and finally decided to write it down. Alexander and a rather unfriendly acquaintance cross paths again at a music festival, and end up handcuffed together for the day. Under the cut because it’s lengthy 💖

tw: nothing but fluff, friends.

As always, feedback is encouraged and appreciated.

It was the bright glare of the sunlight glinting off the metal object in the back pocket of her best friend’s denim shorts that initially caught Daisy’s attention. After an hour of scouring multiple maps of Montreal’s many metro lines- (“Well do we need to take the orange line or the green one?” and “Can’t you just google maps it?” and perhaps Daisy’s personal favourite- “We should have just spent the sixty dollars on an uber.”) The trio of friends had finally made it to Parc Jean-Drapeau, where the three-day Osheaga music festival was being held. “Bea, what’ve you got in your pocket there?” Daisy reached toward her without an answer or invitation, and produced a pair of weighted, silver handcuffs. 

Bea lunged for the cuffs back, a smirk in place on her features.

“What on earth could you possibly need handcuffs for at a music festival?” Daisy asked, eyebrows raised in genuine confusion.

Returning the cuffs to her pocket, Bea shrugged her shoulders nonchalantly, the smirk from moment’s ago still tugged the edge of her lip upward. “It’s been my experience that you just never know when you’ll need ‘em. Be good Daze, or I’ll use them on you.” And Daisy supposed that after a couple of choice alcoholic beverages that could start to sound like one hell of a fun proposition.

“I literally don’t see him anywhere Bea,” Hannah sighed heavily.

Daisy glanced at Bea’s better half; a hand shielded her gaze from the onslaught of the sun’s rays as she stood on tiptoes to scan the expansive park around her. “Who are you looking for?”

Hannah dropped back onto the balls of her feet; her bottom lip wedged between her teeth like she was anxious about something. “Did Bea not tell you?” She peered over at her girlfriend, expectantly. “Did you not tell her?”

Bea rolled her hazel eyes and murmured “shit.”

Daisy’s vision narrowed. “What’s going on?”

Hannah squinted over at Daisy, kicking aside a stray pebble with the toe of her pink platform sneaker. “We uh… We invited Alex and some of his friends to join us for the weekend.”

Her mouth suddenly devoid of all moisture, Daisy wished that she had a bottle of beer in her hand, or some other ice-cold alcoholic beverage to distract her from the heat rising steadily to her cheeks. Tongue thick in her throat, she turned to her friends. “You invited Alex Skarsgård to our Osheaga weekend?” Shifting from side to side uncomfortably, Bea eventually nodded her head in the affirmative. Daisy took a deep breath. “I just think that might have been good information to know before now.”

“You wouldn’t have come…” Hannah interjected.

A humorless laugh bubbled up from the base of Daisy's throat. “You’re probably right.” Hives of people from all over the country milled about the green hillsides, a myriad of accents and languages- mostly French, echoed throughout the vast park. Daisy raised her face to the heavens, reveling in the feeling of the late July sun on her skin and sighed heavily.

“What is it about him?” Bea asked quietly.

Daisy's eyes fell shut. “Where would I even begin?”

“Alright, here they come.” Hannah murmured.

Bea offered her dearest friend a sympathetic look but knew better than to touch her just then. “He wants to make it up to you, Daze.”

Daisy swallowed hard and followed Hannah’s gaze to the quartet of men currently striding towards them. He bore a striking resemblance to the man she had known a year ago, though his dark blonde hair was longer now, and stubble shadowed the underside of his chiseled jaw. Clad in a pair of dark jeans, a grey t shirt and a pair of black converse high-tops, a round pair of yellow tortoise-shell sunglasses sat perched atop his head. “I don’t need him to,” Daisy murmured. “Just try and help me keep my distance from him today, alright?”

Bea was apprehensive, but nodded her head in agreement. “Alright.”

“Good afternoon ladies!” Alexander exclaimed jubilantly once he had caught up to them. He greeted both Hannah and Bea with bear hugs like he’d known them his whole life, and not a mere couple of years. When he got to Daisy, she was surprised to see that his grin hadn’t faltered at all. “Hello Daisy. It’s nice to see you again.”  

She offered him a wilted smile. “Hi, Alex.”

He faltered a beat before turning to the three men next to him. Daisy knew by the sight of them that they had to be related to Alexander in some way, each one a wide-eyed and giraffe-like carbon copy of the other. “Ladies, this here is my good pal Oskar, my kid brother Valter, and my other brother Bill.”

And God said, “Let there be Skarsgård’s,” and there were Skarsgårds.

Bea cleared her throat. “Alright, gang. Shall we check out the rest of the park? Find a watering hole?”

Alexander held out an arm before him. “Lead the way, friend.”

“How long are you guys here for?” Hannah asked as they made their way into a beer tent on the platinum grounds.

“Just for the weekend. Then I'm back to New York for a couple of meetings and then uh… these guys and I,” He winked at the three men next to him. “Are supposed to be in Stockholm for a wedding next week.” Alexander reached into his back pocket for his wallet and approached the bartender behind the counter. “Hey there. How are you?”

"Fantastic." A miniscule fan in the corner of the tent did little to blow any actual cool air around, and a slick sheen of perspiration bloomed over her neck and forehead.

“You must be pumped to be able to hear all the music from here!” Bill beamed at her.

She smacked the wad of pink bubblegum in her mouth, her expression deadpan. “Absolutely ecstatic.”

Valter cleared his throat to keep from laughing.

“Alright then. Uh,” Alexander squinted at the black chalkboard drink menu above him. “What have you got in the way of alcohol for shots?”

“Vodka. Gin. Tequila.”

He turned to the group, gaze expectant. “What are we all in the mood for?”

“Vodka!” Had been the resounding answer, and Daisy didn’t think she’d ever been more ready to shoot straight liquor in her entire life. The alcohol was rough, and it stoked the fire already roaring in the pit of her belly, causing beads of sweat to bloom on her forehead. They milled about for another fifteen minutes, and Daisy was awed by how much alcohol the seven of them had been able to consume in such a short amount of time. Some drinks came in the form of grotesque shooters- “We drink these all the time back home!”, others had taken the shape of ice-cold beers beneath the salvation of another tent. It occurred to her that the breakfast she had consumed a couple of hours ago was insufficient for the poison now in her system, and that down the line, it might pose a bit of a problem. For now, Daisy was simply content to sip whatever she was given, and to enjoy the first full day of her vacation.

Their first set of the weekend was the Foo Fighters- and by some stretch of a miracle, the festival gods had blessed her with a spot in the crowd that made for a fantastic vantage point of the stage. She was naive to assume that it would happen again, so she watched Dave Grohl dominate the crowd in unbridled awe, and without a care in the world. And when they played My Hero- she joined along with the sea of people around her and sang her heart out to every single word.

After the set ended, the seven of them managed to touch base again beneath a patch of glorious shade. “It’s come to my attention that you and I have some unfinished business, Daisy.” Alexander had to yell to be heard above the roar of the white noise around them.

Even surrounded by hundreds of strangers, Daisy felt inexplicably naked beneath his gaze and she shifted uncomfortably on the spot. “You don’t owe me anything, Alex.”

“I owe you an apology, Daisy.”

A sigh exited her mouth in the form of a puff of air, and she eyed the people walking past her with mild contempt. “Just for one day, just one, I want to know what it feels like to be tall at a concert.”

“I know how you feel, Daze.” Hannah fanned a hand in front of her face in a useless attempt to keep the sweltering heat at bay.

Valter laughed and traded sheepish expressions with Bill. “Unfortunately, we don’t.”

Alexander clicked his tongue and glanced down at her, azure eyes glittering mischievously. “View from down there not so great, huh?”

His tone brimmed with mirth and Daisy’s skin prickled under the heat of it; the urge to smack the smirk from his face was all-consuming. She stared up at him, pointedly. “As someone who probably shares- at least most- of their genetic makeup with that of the Brachiosaurus, I wouldn’t expect you to understand what it’s like.”

His guffaw was loud and booming, and it caused Daisy’s heightened blood pressure to soar beneath the scorching Montreal weather. “Yeah, well, every woman in your maternal bloodline for the past one hundred years was probably four foot eleven, tops. You take what you’re given, kid.” Silence hung between them and Daisy shot Bea a look that simply said, ‘you did this to me, and eventually you will pay for it’. Alexander cleared his throat, oblivious to the mounting tension. “Look, if you want I can hoist you onto my shoulders for the next set and then you’ll know exactly what it’s like to be tall at a concert.”

Daisy took a deep sip of her beer, her defiant gaze trained on something unseen before her. “Your concern for my experience here is heartwarming, really it is, but believe me when I say that I’d rather suffer down here.”

Alexander shrugged and shook his head in mild amusement. “Suit yourself then, half-pint.” Venomous words threatened to erupt from her throat, but they stayed lodged where they were, because just then and with the expertise of someone who was inexplicably well-versed in the act, Bea had managed to clasp a silver handcuff around Daisy’s left wrist. She stared at it in alcohol-induced amusement, and suddenly everyone around them was laughing. She lifted her arm to try and shake her wrist out of it, but a heavy weight dropped it back down to her side, and the realization that the other half of her cuff was bound to Alexander’s right wrist, was sudden and all-consuming. She swallowed hard. 

“While admittedly funny for the first few milliseconds, I’m going to have to insist that you unlock us now.”

Bea levelled her honeyed gaze with Daisy’s and smiled sweetly. “Relax Daze. You’ll be free of each other by nightfall.”

All Alexander could do was howl. “Nightfall? Good luck-" He managed in between fits of laughter. “Getting the kid to last half an hour!” When his laughter had subsided, he cleared his throat and glanced down at Bea, his blue gaze twinkled roguishly. “C’mon Bea. Let us out, hm?”

Bea shook her head and patted the miniscule outline of the key in her pocket. “Last set of the day. Nightfall. I promise.”

There had been protests from both sides, but for as strong-willed as Daisy knew her best friend to be, she also knew that she wasn’t in the business of giving in easily and the pair of them gave up trying while they were ahead. While mind-numbingly irritating for the first few hours, the all-consuming heat eventually zapped Daisy of her ability to care about anything except for cold drinks and air conditioning, and she supposed, begrudgingly, that there were worse people to be chained to for a day. It was only after their lunch of tacos and beer from a local food truck- Daisy and Alexander sat atop a bed of grass, knee-to-knee, that they realized they had managed to get split up from the rest of the crew. But if either of them had been worried about it, they didn’t let it show. “Who are you most excited to see play here?” Daisy asked for no reason, other than she could think of nothing else to say.

Alexander tipped the neck of the beer bottle to his lips with his free hand and took a hearty gulp. “Who am I most excited to see? Who are you most excited to see?”

She rolled her eyes. “You can’t answer a question with a question. Besides, I asked you first.”

He pursed his lips together as if he were thinking hard about it. “The person I am most excited to see, have been waiting all year for… has to be Cardi B.”

She stared at him, deadpan. “You’re kidding.”

“Actually, I’m not. I’d tell you to confirm with Valter but he is, very conveniently, missing in action.”

Daisy laughed suddenly, and it was a laughter that came in waves and spurred on his own, each of them nearly doubled over as they gave in to their fits. “Gonna to do the WAP?” She breathed out when she could manage it, wiping away traces of saltwater with the pad of her thumb.

Alexander feigned solemnity. “Listen, I would do the WAP dance right this very minute if it weren’t for these cuffs.”

“I believe you.” She giggled.

"I'm glad." His face broke into a beam that put sunshine to shame. Draining the rest of the bottle, he set it back onto the grass and cocked his head to the side. “And you? Who are you most excited to see?”

Daisy stared up at him, the answer had been ready on the tip of her tongue, but something in his eyes stopped her dead in her tracks. “You have the loveliest flecks of gold in your eyes, did you know that?”

Alexander’s gaze fell to the grass beneath him, his smile painfully shy. “Let’s find us some more beer then, hey? Up on three.”

“Good plan. But we have an issue to resolve first,” Daisy murmured.

Alexander faltered; his head cocked to the side in question. “You mean- apart from the one where we are currently joined at the hip until Bea decides to take mercy on us?”

Daisy nodded. “Right. Besides that one. I have to pee… really bad.” He opened his mouth to say something, but a chuckle roared from the base of his throat instead, and Daisy swore it was like hearing laughter for the very first time. There was an infectious joy to it that made her want to make him laugh like that for that for the rest of her days.

“Alright. Let’s find you a washroom.”

It hadn’t been a difficult venture; platinum tickets holders benefited from the use of private on-site washrooms, and it occurred to Daisy that the astronomical price for the ticket was worth it, solely based on that luxury itself. “I’m sorry that this a thing you are being privy to.” Daisy muttered as they squeezed into a stall together.

He shrugged his shoulders. “Oh, I’ve been privy to worse things, kid. I’ll turn away.”

As Daisy hiked her sundress up her frame and squatted above the toilet, she reminded herself that revenge was a dish best served cold, and that one way or another, Bea would pay.

Alexander and Daisy’s afternoon continued in the same fashion; they attended whatever sets piqued their interests, lost track of how many people commented on their unusual predicament, and satiated their parched throats with lots of cold alcoholic beverages. Finally, the golden sun began to sink low over the Montreal skyline, and the temperature drop that came with it was a welcome reprieve to the day's stifling heat. They found themselves amidst a healthy crowd of people, all breathless and ready for one of the final sets of the evening. As she waited for the band to take the stage, Daisy suddenly felt exhausted beyond all measure, but also satisfied in a way that she hadn't been accustomed to in years. She could pin it on the alcohol, or the heat, or that she had finally allowed herself a couple of days off to do whatever she pleased. Deep down, she knew it had nearly everything to do with her current company.

“Where did you go just now?” Alexander asked.

Daisy glanced up at him, confused. “What do you mean? I’m right here.”

He seemed unconvinced. “You were a million miles away.”

A shiver wracked her body that had nothing to do with the current weather, and she gestured to the stage. “The Lumineers. These are the guys I'm most excited to see.”

Alexander beamed down at her. “Well then how lucky am I that I get to see them with you.”

Two men entered the stage just then, one stepped up to the microphone, and the other took a seat behind a drum set. Daisy didn’t realize she had been holding her breath until the opening beats of Sleep on the Floor rang out into the humid air before her. A cacophony of cheers erupted from the concertgoers around them, and goosebumps bloomed in patterns over her arms when the bearded man began to sing.

Pack yourself a toothbrush dear

Pack yourself a favorite blouse

Take a withdrawal slip

Take all of your savings out

‘Cause if we don’t ever leave this town

We might never make it out

I was not born to drown

Baby come on

~

“The key is gone.”

The day’s final concert had done Daisy in, and she was inexplicably tired now; her legs heavy like lead, eyelids threatening to shut on their own at any second.

“What do you mean the key is gone, Bea?” She heard Alexander ask. His voice was level, but there was an underlying tinge of frustration to it that made Daisy’s stomach sink.

“It’s… it’s gone. I had it in my pocket earlier and now it’s gone.”

Daisy yawned wide, the urge to lay down on the patch of grass beneath her was almost too tempting to bear. “I’m tired, Alex.”

“I know, kid.” He pressed a quick kiss to the top of her head. “Where did you last have it?”

Bea tugged the edge of her lip into her mouth and shrugged her shoulders, helplessly. “I last had it in my pocket.” Dozens of people pushed past the group on their way out of the park; on their way home to waiting bathtubs and beds and Daisy was unbelievably envious of them.

“Alright. This is what we’re going to do,” He sighed. “The four of us are going to get into a cab, we’re going to head back to the hotel, and Daisy and I will meet up with you guys right here tomorrow morning. If the key still hasn’t turned up, we’ll have to figure something else out.”

“I’m really sorry about this, guys.” Bea muttered lowly.

You absolutely should be, Daisy thought.

Hannah cleared her throat, her arms crossed tight across her chest. “Are you alright with this Daze?”

She nodded, wordlessly.

Their uber ride back to the hotel only spanned the entirety of fifteen minutes, but it seemed like a lifetime to Daisy. She drifted off on Alexander’s shoulder to the lulling sound of muted Swedish between the three men, and when she was gently tapped awake by Alexander, the car was parked outside of the Four Seasons. “Come on, kid. Let’s get you into bed, hm?”

“This is fancy…” She murmured, as she slid out of the open car door and into the humid evening air.

Valter laughed heartily. “Just wait til you see where you’re staying, Daisy.”

The boys bid themselves goodnight, with Alexander slinging his free arm around each of their shoulders in a half-embrace. He waited until he knew Bill and Valter had made it into their elevator safely, and then led Daisy to a discreet elevator off the lobby, which they rode to the top floor wordlessly. She wasn’t sure what she had expected when the doors opened, but her breath hitched in her throat as she drank in the room in which Alexander was calling home for the next three days. “This is-

“A lot, I know.” He murmured. They wandered past the single king bed, into the next room, whose expansive bay windows offered a breathtaking view of Montreal’s twinkling downtown lights. Daisy gazed down at their entwined wrists, at the small metal chain that bound them together, and marveled at how a mere twelve hours had the power to change everything. “Daisy, I’m sorry.” Alexander spoke above a whisper now. “I’m sorry for leaving you behind last year.”

She took a deep breath, the words thick at the back of her throat. “I never should have put you in a position where you felt that you had to choose between your career, and me.”

Alexander’s fingers found hers, and he squeezed them thrice. “You waltzed into my life when I least expected it, Daisy,” An incredulous sigh pushed past his lips and he shook his head. “A breathtaking hurricane of a woman. I made the decision to ask you to dinner, I should have showed up.”

She smiled tiredly. “You showed up today, Alex.”

He leaned towards her, pressing his lips to her temple, and his laughter rumbled through her and warmed her in ways sunshine never could. “And look where we are now.”

She gazed up at him, at the deepened creases next to his eyes, and the subtle flecks of gold among a sea of blue, and in that moment, she hardly cared if they ever found the key at all. There was an effortlessness to that truth that felt akin to breathing. “Nowhere else I’d rather be, Alex.”

When Daisy's eyes opened in the morning, the weight of Alexander's impossibly warm arm hung snug around her clothed stomach, the cool metal of his cuff a stark contrast to her warm inner arm. The Montreal sunlight pouring in through their bay window glinted off a miniscule key-shaped object on the rug a few feet away from where they lay, and a small smile tugged her lips skyward.

#i just wanna go to a concert with him #is that so much to ask #alexander skarsgard #alexander skarsgard x reader #alexander skarsgard oneshot #alexander skarsgard imagines #alexander skarsgard fluff #alexander skarsgard fanfic #rpf #writing #drabble #fluff #alex sstuff

[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."

#new years melancholy is real and its a bitch #alex sstuff #alexander skarsgard #alexander skarsgard x reader #alexander skarsgard imagines #writing #drabble #fluff

[halfway-happyyy]

Little Honey

good morning friends! here is a quick lil smutty blurb to get y’all through this fine Wednesday morning. Inspired by this little saucy ask someone sent in:  Anonymous said: God can you imagine the jealousy seeing someone flirt with Alex like in real life? You knew this was apart of the job, apart of his life. But when a costar or interviewer is just shamelessly eye fucking your man in front of you, even after being introduced! Alex is of course the perfect gentleman. He excuses you two because he knows that look on your face. So to calm you both down he takes you in a closet and fucks you senseless 🤪

You could always feel his eyes on you.

It hardly mattered if it was from across a crowded room, or from a glimpse through the foggy bathroom mirror. His gaze had the all-encompassing power of making you feel like the most beautiful girl in the world. And, perhaps to him you were.

“You’re staring at me.” You murmured as you swiped the tapered end of a pink lipstick across your bottom lip.

“Kind of hard not to,” Alexander replied.

You turned to glance at him, pursing your lips together as you did so to make sure the pigment was evenly applied. Tonight, he was clad in a lavish, navy blue suit; a black bowtie peaked out from the crisp, white button up shirt beneath it. His sandy hair was long now; longer than you had ever seen it before and you reveled in the fact that he had no intentions of cutting it any time soon. A beard had made an appearance during quarantine. You had been weary of it at first but thanks to the many times that it had scratched the sensitive skin of your inner thigh, you had around to the idea and now you loved it. “Didn’t your mother ever tell you it was rude to stare?”

Alexander’s slow-growing smile broke into a full grin that made your stomach dip in the most wonderful way. “I’m sure she must have. But if you were seated where I was in this very moment, I imagine you would find yourself in a similar predicament.” He cleared his throat and clocked the watch on his wrist. “Done soon, kid? Our car is here.”

This would be the first time out with Alexander to an event in over a year and you could not contain the sheer excitement of it if you tried. You were elated to finally place faces and personalities to the names that he had spoken so highly of on so many previous occasions. As the vehicle glided to a halt in front of the theatre, Alexander squeezed your hand three times and exited his side to get the door for you on yours. Following him out into the balmy Los Angeles night, you could not help the nerves that had started to dance around in the pit of your belly as cameras flashed before you. No matter how many premiers, or award ceremonies, or other large-scale events you attended… you would never get used to the attention. After posing for a few photos together, and waiting while he had his own taken separately, you made your way into the brightly lit theatre together. Only once inside the comfort of the building did you allow yourself to take a deep, steadying breath. A massive, gilded clock on the wall above you told you that you were still forty-five minutes until show time, and you stole yourself for a round of inevitable introductions. You chatted warmly for a few minutes with the director of the film before he was pulled away in another direction, as promises of “We must trade stories again later!” reached you from above the buzzing crowd.

“Oh, Alex!” A female voice cried loudly, and you turned just in time to watch a woman you had never met before, wrap her arms around him. This was still normal territory for you; women had done worse things to him in your presence. But then she nuzzled her face into the hollow of his neck and sighed heavily and your cheeks instantly grew warm. While Alexander reciprocated the hug, he was unsure of where to put his hands, so he proceeded to awkwardly pat her back.

“Hello, Gianna.” He greeted her warmly and when she broke away from him, her hazel-brown eyes were alight with an intensity you had come to recognize well. Alexander cleared his throat and gestured to you. “There is someone I’d like you to meet,” He moved away from her to wrap a toned arm around your waist. “Gianna- this is my girl.”

She turned to you, the smile in which she had reserved for Alexander wilted only slightly as she took note of your unassuming figure.

“It’s nice to finally put a face to the name Alex has spoken so highly of these past few months.” You smiled and extended a hand towards her which she accepted begrudgingly.

“Isn’t it just?” She replied drily.

Alexander squeezed your hip reassuringly and jutted his chin out toward the direction of the bar. “Well, I will leave you ladies to it, hm? I think I see Tom at the bar- would you like a drink?”

“Yes, surprise me please. And whatever it is, make it a double.”

Alexander nodded his head and pressed a kiss to your temple before vanishing into the crowd.

Gianna watched him disappear and returned her attention to you, a half-empty martini glass clutched in her hand. “He’s so much sexier in reality, isn’t he?”

“I beg your pardon?” You blanched; eyebrows raised in genuine surprise.

“Alex. It’s really quite overwhelming, isn’t it?”

Suddenly you found yourself in awe of the audacity with which this woman possessed. With her flirtations and her impossibly cool cruelty- and the kicker of it all was that she really was simply stunning; you could not deny her that. Long, glossy brunette hair hung in perfect curls down her bare back, and a subtle accent that either belonged to somewhere in Spain or Italy colored her every word and you could easily see the attraction. You cleared your throat and managed a shrug. “Yes well at home, he’s just Alex. Still does the dishes. Still drools in his sleep occasionally. Rather a little boring, really.”

She levelled her gaze with yours and smiled coldly. “That may be less of his problem, and more of yours, no?” Taking a deep breath, you tried to scan the crowd for him. You finally caught sight of his impending figure at the bar across the room, deep in conversation with an older gentleman. She swilled back the rest of her vodka and smiled at you again. It was a Cheshire cat sort of grin that caused an unpleasant batch of goosebumps to rise in patterns on your arms. “You look like you’d like to leave, and I don't blame you, but before you do, I just have one question.”

“And what’s that?” You murmured, already regretting indulging her.

Gianna leaned close enough to you that you could smell the precise scent of the floral perfume on her dainty neck. “Does he fuck as good as he pretends to?”

You swallowed hard and tried to ignore the way your arm vibrated in subtle anticipation of the smack that you so badly ached to deliver to her perfectly highlighted cheek. “Hm. An interesting question indeed. And unfortunately for you, one you will never get to know the answer to.” You turned on a heel and made your way for the bar, grateful for the thickening crowd and the dimmed lighting. Sidling up next to Alexander with a heavy sigh, you caught the eye of the bartender and waved him over. “A Stoli on the rocks with a twist of lemon, please.” You had already taken your first sip when Alexander turned to you, a small frown in place on his features.

“I hadn't quite had time to order your drink yet.”

You gestured to him with your almost empty glass. “Beat you to it, Skarsgård.”

“So, it seems…” He murmured. “You alright, kid?”

You giggled humorlessly; the memory of your most recent conversation fresh in your mind. “You know… I pride myself on being a generally un-jealous partner,”

“I do know that. It's one of the many, many things that endear you to me.”

You lifted your glass in silent cheers. “But that woman back there? What a cunt.”

Alexander's sparkly blue eyes widened in shock. “Gianna?”

“The very same.”

“What did she do?”

You winced a little as the rest of the alcohol singed the back of your throat like smoke. “It's not so much what she did… but what she said.”

He turned to you fully now, brushed a stray piece of hair behind your ear, his gaze intense and utterly penetrating. “Talk to me, tell me what she said.”

You rolled your eyes and gestured with your glass to the bartender for one more. “She carries a torch for you Alex. Badly. And I can handle that…” You shrugged your shoulders. “Lord knows it's just one of the many things I signed up for. But you worked with her side by side for six months. You filmed very… intimate scenes with her. She doesn’t have to reach up on her tiptoes to hug you. I could go on.”

Alexander shook her head. “Kid, she couldn’t hold a candle to you.” He leaned ever closer to you, the heady scent of his cologne caused your mouth to water. “And between you and me, I like that you have to step up onto your tiptoes to hug me.” As he caressed a warm hand to the side of your face, you noticed an imperceptible change in the glimmer of his eyes when he reached for your hand. “Come with me.” His tone left little room for argument, so you downed the rest of your drink in one fell swoop and followed him into the crowd. He wordlessly led you down to a quieter area of the theatre and stopped in front of a women’s washroom. Checking that no one of importance was in sight, he pushed open the door and gestured for you to head in first, which you did. Once inside the privacy of the washroom, Alexander checked each stall to be sure that you were alone. He passed by you moments later to lock the door, an erection growing steadily in the crotch of his pants. Closing the distance to you, he patted the counter twice. “Jump up on here, baby.” Again, you did as you were told. He closed the distance between you, the sheer heat radiating from him caused you to shiver violently. You reached forward to palm the bulge between you, and the urge to have him inside of you was nearly all-consuming. “You feel how hard I am?” He asked, his voice already hoarse. “You can physically feel how badly I want to be inside your pussy right now, hm?” Alexander’s skilled fingers danced teasingly beneath your dress. They moved slowly up your leg, past the rounded curve of your knee, up over the silky softness of your inner thigh. “You know that only you can get me this hard, hm?” His fingers slowed when he realized you had gone panty-less this evening. “Not a single other person can do this to me, baby.” He runs a calloused thumb up over the wetness of your slit, stopping moments later to press firm circles into your clit. “Let’s see how fast I can have you falling apart for me, hm? Gotta be quick, little one.” With no warning, he inserted two thick fingers into your pussy and started pumping at a steady pace, his thumb pressing matching circles into your clit.

“Fuck, Alex…” It had hardly taken a while before he had you seeing stars behind the lids of your closed eyes. You could feel the familiar unraveling of pressure deep in your belly, the telltale signs of an orgasm near completion.

“Oh I know, baby…” Alexander groaned. “I know you’re close. I can feel you clench around my fingers. Now, are you going to come all over those, or are you going to come all over my cock?” You tossed your head back against the mirror with a dull thud, the answer to his question lost to the moan at back of your throat. “I’m just going to decide for you baby, you can’t even form coherent sentences at this point.” He pressed a chaste kiss to the base of your throat and nibbled into the soft flesh there, causing a muted cry to rip from somewhere far away. “Ah, ah, ah… you know the rules.” He whispered sternly. He pulled his fingers from your dripping heat and slid them into his mouth, sucking off everything you had to give him. He then unbuckled his belt and shimmied his boxers halfway down his legs, taking his erect cock into his hands, and jerking if off with the rest of your excess juices. You trembled as he lined himself up against your slick entrance, then wordlessly slid himself in to the hilt. “Christ almighty…” He groaned as he let you adjust to his sheer size. “No one could ever compare to you. Not ever.” You wrapped your legs around his waist as he drew away from you and slammed right back in. “Hold on tight baby, I’m about to wreck this pussy.”

“Oh my god, Alex…” You could feel a scream building at the base of your throat- and he could feel it too because a large hand fixed itself over your mouth as he plowed into you with reckless abandon. The familiar sensation of your approaching orgasm returned, and you could feel yourself clenching around his hard cock. “Alex, I…”

Alexander pressed a finger into your clit as he thrusted into you, the timing and pressure caused lightning bolts of pleasure to explode behind your eyes. “You’re going to come all over this cock right now, aren’t you? Give me a little honey, baby.”

You nodded your head fervently and whimpered loudly as you gave yourself over to the all-encompassing feeling of your orgasm overtaking your body.

“You’re going to take everything I have to give you like a good little girl,” Sweat beaded on his forehead and with a free hand, you reached up to push his sandy hair out of his eyes so that you could get a better look at them when he filled your pussy with his come. His normally bright blue orbs were dark now, his pupils dilated and blown over with unbridled lust.

As he slowed his rhythm down a bit, you could physically feel his cock throb and pulsate inside of you, and you moaned loudly.

He dropped his head to your shoulder and railed into you with such force, you feared momentarily that there might be some damage to the mirror or countertop afterward. “Oh, baby…” His hips stilled against your own and you felt him pour his release into you, the sheer feeling of being filled to the brim with his seed, utterly overwhelming. He waited a few blissful moments before pulling himself from you, and carefully tucked himself back into his boxers. Taking a few deep breaths, you watched him fix his suit so that it looked entirely as if nothing untoward had just taken place at all.

You hopped down from the counter and gestured to a stall. “Going to get fixed up quick. See you back out there in a few minutes?”

Alexander smiled and pressed a kiss to your cheek. “I’ll be waiting for you.”

When you emerged from the safety of the washroom ten minutes later, you were hardly surprised to find that Gianna had managed to seek out Alexander again. Though he had been able to keep his distance this time. Stealing yourself for what was about to happen next, you joined their conversation with a rather shit-eating grin. “Hello again.” You murmured once there was a break in the conversation. Gianna simply ignored you and was poised to ask Alexander another question. You closed the gap between her and gestured to his subtly disheveled figure. “Notice anything different about him? Go on and take a good look,” Gianna’s fiery gaze flashed to his slightly sweaty visage, to the deep breaths he was still taking, and to the afterglow that despite his best efforts, had still managed to set his skin aflame. “You see that don’t you, G? See how utterly fucked out he still looks?” She crossed her arms defiantly across her chest in response, her glittery eyes shooting daggers at you. “He looks that way because he just had his way with me like an absolute champion. And even though it is entirely none of your business, I’ll let you in on a little secret anyway,” You got ever closer to her, the last part barely above an audible whisper. “Alex fucked me so good just now, that I’ll be feeling him between my legs for the next four days, at least.”

Alexander tugged gently at your hand. “We have to find our seats, kid.”

You offered her one last beaming smile. “Have a lovely evening, Gianna.”

#long hair alex is a mooooood #tw: public sex #alexander skarsgard #alexander skarsgard x reader #alexander skarsgard oneshot #alexander skarsgard imagine #smut #writing #drabble #alex sstuff

[halfway-happyyy]

Fumbled, sleepy morning sex.

Deliberate, intentional, languid.

Hours before any caffeine enters any bloodstream.

A bedroom steeped in deep indigo, linen curtains rustle in a pre-dawn, pre-autumn breeze.

He is well aquainted with her body even in the dark, even under the clumsy weight of slumber. Traverses each dip and each valley with adept fingertips- a journey he's embarked on many times before, somehow never ceases to feel brand new to him.

Her body will blossom under his unbridled wonderment regardless of the hour. 

And in the stillness, nothing is rushed; touches aren't forced, or frenzied.

Movement, comparable to their love, is deliberate, intentional, languid.

His cerulean spheres alight, even in the dark, with carnal need for her.

A subtle Swedish accent, made stronger under the weight of recent sleep.

Finally, brimming with him, his fullness sates her in ways hard to glean from anywhere else.

Pressure and pleasure in equal measure build in her until they eventually erupt in a sympony of stars behind heavy-lidded eyes, a warmth like she's never felt it before.

A completeness like she's never felt it before.

Akin to an untethered balloon bound skyward, capable, sun-kissed arms help to pull her back to earth, back into his gravitational pull.

The world around them has yet to awaken fully and so do they.

#arguably my favourite kind of sex #SOFT on this monday morning #alex sstuff #drabble

[halfway-happyyy]

Until We Meet Again

this is absolutely something that nobody asked for, but here it is. short ‘n sweet and full of fluff.

A grotesque concoction of alcohol- some variant of overpriced vodka and lemon liqueur if she had to guess, set the delicate lining of her throat ablaze and she winced as she set the empty coupe glass on the tray of passing waiter. She glanced down at the watch face on the underside of her wrist and frowned at it.

An hour late to the event, and an hour left to go.

Eliciting a dejected sigh, she gazed past the expansive tent above her and at the night sky beyond it that blanketed the fountains of the Pacific Design Center in West Hollywood in inky darkness. The cacophonous roar of hundreds of conversations and pulsating music was unbearably loud and she cursed herself for leaving her phone at home. She could picture it now, lying face down on the glass coffee table just inside her front entrance and in total darkness and for a fleeting moment she found herself inexplicably jealous of it. She had given up on trying to locate her friends fifteen minutes ago- though she thought she had just spotted Keane through throngs of expensive suits and dresses in a straight bee-line for the bar and thought that she ought to head there. Taking a deep breath, she stepped out into the crowd before her in search of him, but stumbled back awkwardly when the bottom of her gown caught on something and ripped.

“Oh my gosh, I just ripped your dress. I am so sorry.” She peered up at the man towered above her, at the glassy blue orbs that somehow still glittered lively under the minimal lighting from the chandeliers around them. Everything about him was immaculate. From the perfectly combed back sandy blonde hair, to the blonde mustache that grew above his pink upper lip, to the black silk bowtie that sat snug against the base of his throat.

She found his visage oddly familiar, but could not place where she might have known him from if her life depended on it. She found herself shrugging. “Honestly don't worry about it. It's one of the many reasons I try to shop thrift before big events.”

Though he offered her a shy smile, his glassy blue gaze remained unsure and it was obvious that he still wasn't convinced. “No really- is there any way it can be fixed? I can get someone over here right now to look at it for you...”

She glanced down at the sizable rip in the fabric and knew with a slight pang that the damage was irreparable. “No, please. It's really fine.”

He chewed at edge of his lip as he mulled something over and cocked his head to the side, his gaze narrowed. “At least allow me to pay for it?”

She had purchased it off the rack at one of her favourite thrift haunts on Melrose for thirty bucks, two weeks ago. She couldn't, in good faith, agree to that. “Listen- this dress has probably had a fantastic life, you know? She finished it this evening at an Emmy award after party. How many other dresses can say that? She's good. This is the end of the line for her.”

They stood in thoughtful silence for a moment, the only sign of his defeat came in the form of a resigned sigh. “Alright. But please know that I still feel slightly terrible about it.”

“I can live with slightly terrible,” She smiled knowingly at him. “Are you having a good night, then?”

He gazed at her, a funny expression coloured his features and she suddenly felt very vulnerable. “I am having a great night, actually.” He eventually confirmed. “Are you having a good night? That is- despite the gown crisis.”

She hugged her arms tight to her chest and glanced around in awe at the sheer sumptuousness of the tent in which she was currently in. Massive, golden lion statues guarded pillars around the room and gilded archways had been erected over ponds so that guests could traverse them at their leisure. No matter how many evenings she spent this way, she doubted that she would ever grow accustomed to it.

“I've never really been one for big parties, but it's been alright so far I suppose. Even despite the gown crisis.” She found that she enjoyed the way a subtle, rosy hue tinted the apples of his cheeks at her slightly teasing lilt. Her stomach gurgled warningly just then- a gentle reminder that she had not consumed an adequate amount of food and she eyed the lavish, twenty-foot replica of a dragon above her head with mild contempt. “God, I'd fight that dragon for a plate of fries right about now. Every year I tell myself I'm going to be on time for one of these events, and every year I let myself down.”

He dropped his head to his chest and elicited a hearty laugh. “You missed out this evening I'm afraid. It was Wolfgang Puck on the buffet.”

“Damn it,” She giggled under her breath. “Every single year.”

He gestured out at the mass of conversing industry people and raised his voice so that she could hear him. “You work for HBO?” He asked.

She shook her head. “Nah, I snuck in an hour ago under the guise of free food and booze.”

“Neither of which you have yet to receive…” He grinned.

“Not exactly,” She giggled. “I snuck a cocktail minutes before the old dress debacle. Tasted somewhat like what I would imagine lemon pine-sol tastes like.” Genuine laughter rose up from the base of his throat like a favourite song and she waited for it to subside with an unabashed smile on face. “I'm a freelance photographer.” She admitted, eventually.

He cleared his throat, poised to ask her another question when his gaze lit up and he cocked his head to the side in thought. “Would you excuse me for a moment? I think I've found a way to repay you for your dress.”

Her eyes widened in mild horror and she shook her head in protest. “Oh- no. Please don't…” But her objections were for naught as she watched his imposing figure vanish into the thickening swarm of people. She chewed anxiously at the soft flesh of her inner lip as she awaited his return and when ten minutes elapsed, she began to grow skeptical.

Too tall. Too Scandinavian. Too beautiful.

But then, and to her pleasant surprise, she spotted his face through the crowd and her heart thrummed in her chest as he approached her. There, in the flat of his palm and high above the heads of everyone else so as not to drop the dish- was a plate heaped high with piping-hot French fries. “This is akin to Christmas,” She sighed longingly once he had rejoined her. “But somehow a little bit better. Thank you very much.”

Wiping the proverbial sweat from his brow, he managed a nonchalant shrug. “Oh, they were exceedingly difficult to procure, but I was persistent.” He handed her the plate with a lux serviette underneath and a fork on the side. “Wolfgang and I uh… we go way back.”

Glancing over her shoulder, she spotted a vacant table a few yards away and decided to be brave. “You know… If he supplied you with a second fork, I'd be happy to share some of these with you.”

His gaze followed hers to the table and he smiled sadly. “Alas Wolfgang let me down and I was not offered a second fork, but I would be delighted to sit and chat with you for a few more minutes.”

Sinking into the refuge of the chair beneath her, she was suddenly aware that she had barely been offered a chance to do that all day long. She was content to listen to him speak while she tried not to inhale her entire plate of perfectly fried potatoes.

“I'm sure your date is probably wondering where you've wandered off to.” She offered, after a few moments of comfortable silence had lapsed.

He smiled and shook his head. “I’m sure she’s used to it by now. Probably been wondering that very same thing for most of my life.”

She cocked her head to the side, and narrowed her gaze at him. “Have we met before? You seem so familiar.”

His expression dimmed and that same shy smile that he had given her half an hour earlier presented itself again, causing butterflies to take flight in the pit of her belly. 

“I don't believe so,” He gave his head a half-shake. “I would have remembered your face anywhere.”

Utterly grateful for the dim lighting around them, she opened her mouth to counter his last statement when a man she didn't recognize appeared at his side, in a hurry and out of breath. “Alex- you need to take this back now. I am sick of people congratulating me for it and I am entirely out of answers as to how it came to be in my possession.” Without another word, the man placed an Emmy award unceremoniously in front of Alex's amused figure and hurried away.

She nodded at the unsuspecting statuette of a woman laden with a golden atom and quirked an eyebrow in mild amusement. “You are having a very great night indeed, hm?” She simpered.

Sensing that her cue to leave had arrived, she rose from the table to bid Alex goodnight.

“Your company has been a pleasure this evening… I am sorry about your dress.”

She glanced down at the French fry plate, the few scattered crumbs the only indication that something had once been there. “Your penance was plenty.”

“Two questions before you go,” He murmured.

She peered up at him expectantly.

“A photographer without her camera?”

She shrugged and offered him a wry smile. “Everyone gets a night off every once in a blue moon. Next?”

His gaze travelled to the fabric napkin poking out from beneath the empty plate, then back to hers. “Thanks to Paul, you now know my name. What's yours?”

She tilted her head to the side, a half-smile tugged at her lips. “It's Grace.”

“Grace,” He repeated it in a whisper and she ignored the way that it caused goosebumps to bloom in patterns over her bare arms. “Goodnight Grace.” He rose from the table with his award at his side but faltered and turned back to her, remembering something. “Oh- and Grace? Maybe don't leave behind the serviette.”

Puzzled, she watched a hive of bodies swallow his frame, and when he was gone, she reached for the weighted crème fabric, smiling softly to herself. There, in loopy black script from a fountain pen was Alex's name and phone number and a short note that read,

“Until we meet again…”

#had to throw a pic of the dragon in there for reference #tell me alex pawning off his award to a friend so he doesnt have to carry it around #and deal with compliments and praise all evening is something he wouldnt do!!! #alexander skarsgard #alexander skarsgard x reader #alexander skarsgard imagine #alexander skarsgard fanfic #alexander skarsgard fluff #alex sstuff #writing #drabble #a concept