#Alex turner fanfic

[doctor-dusk]

𝐚𝐥𝐥 𝐢 𝐰𝐚𝐧𝐭 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐜𝐡𝐫𝐢𝐬𝐭𝐦𝐚𝐬 𝐢𝐬 𝐲𝐨𝐮 | 𝐚𝐥𝐞𝐱 𝐭.

all you want for christmas is him.

warnings: soft dom!alex, smut, handjob, oral (f receiving), unprotected sex, most fluff, lots of kisses and cuddles because it’s humbug alex :3

words: 4.7k

i've had this ready since the beginning of the month and i posted it today because it makes more sense with the story. i've never written anything with humbug al but i admit that this brought a smile to my face. hope you enjoy it :3

it was snowing heavily when you left home, but not as much when you got back. you find it strangely amazing how everything could change drastically in a matter of minutes. the road wasn't so slippery when you parked the car, and now, you slipped and almost fell on your butt twice just to put the christmas presents in the trunk of the car.

ah, yes. it was christmas. one of the best times of the year, and without a doubt, it was your favorite. where you could get together with family and friends, exchange gifts and eat a lot without feeling remorseful about gaining a few extra pounds on the scale later. it was still the 23rd of december, but you had already been in the christmas spirit since november.

you took advantage of your free day to buy presents for the children. you made a mental note of what each of them wanted as a gift, casually asking what they would like for christmas that year. it was as easy as taking candy from a baby's mouth.

alex didn't go with you. he was too invested in the cookies to be able to accompany you. but you didn't complain, you loved it when he got excited about it, even though in the end he made a mess in the kitchen, with eggshells on the counter and flour on the floor. but the mess was the least of your worries.

you simply loved seeing how excited and happy he was, helping you decorate the house with wreaths on the doors and small ornaments on the windows, and of course, decorating the christmas tree. it was all full of laughter and jokes, as if at that moment you were in a cliché christmas movie.

you parked the car in the garage, getting out quickly to get the presents out of the car without taking too long, it was really freezing as night fell. you put the handles of the bags over your arms, making sure you didn't forget anything before locking the car and entering the house through the back door, avoiding getting the entire living room dirty with your snow-covered boots as much as possible.

the back door led directly to the laundry room, so you took the opportunity to take off your boots and put on your slippers, leaving your socks on your feet. alex thought it was funny — not to say strange — that you walked around the house in slippers and socks, but when he least expected it, he were already walking around the house like that too.

he usually says that you are a bad influence on him. but you are proud of it. it's not like he doesn't like it after all. he liked having a little bit of you in his habits.

before you crossed the small hallway that connected the laundry room and the kitchen, you could already smell cookies in the air. the soft vanilla aroma filled your nostrils as you approached the counter. alex wasn't there, all you saw besides an impeccably clean kitchen was the porcelain container with the warm cookies and a small note stuck under the small bowl.

you left the presents in a safe place on the floor, making a little mental note to pick them up later and beg alex to help you wrap them all — begging because alex liked to hear you say that he knew how to make much prettier gift bows than yours.

one free hand took the small note between your fingers, while the other rushed to grab one of the cookies from the pile, feeling the soft warmth on your fingertips. you took a bite, the chocolate chips practically melting in your mouth in an explosion of flavors, making you let out a satisfied hum.

your eyes drifted to the small note, recognizing alex’s elaborate handwriting as if he was always in a hurry to write, as if the words would disappear from his mind at any moment and he needed, no, needed to write it down somewhere before he forgot. it no longer surprised you to see loose letters and verses written in the most unusual places, like on the calendar stuck to the wall, or on his empty cigarette pack.

back to the main point, you read the small sentences written with the graphite of a worn pencil:

“meet me at the studio.

ps: sorry about the glass :(”

you frowned, soon understanding the meaning of the observation when you saw a small cardboard box in the corner with “glass” written on the top. he probably accidentally broke a glass while making the cookies, but that was no reason to make you angry, so you ignored it as you made your way to the studio at the end of the hallway that started in the living room.

the door was ajar, so you just gave it a little push. the studio always smelled of pine. you didn’t know exactly if it was because of the instruments, most of them structured with the most varied types of noble wood. but you loved that smell, especially when it was mixed with the smell of alex’s perfume. the place was annoyingly organized, he made sure not to leave anything out of place, whether he was alone or not. everything was impeccably in its place, the low lights brought a subtle comfort along with the colorful twinkling lights around the christmas tree set up there.

but what was truly a feast for your eyes was seeing your boyfriend lying there partially next to the christmas tree. the incandescent lights of the studio made his skin look warm, glowing. like a candle slowly burning, waiting for you. you looked up at him, an amused smile playing on your lips as he smiled back at you.

‘’what’s this?” you gestured to him lying next to the christmas tree, his wavy hair decorated with crimson red bows in the strands.

“don’t you like it, love?” he pouted. oh, you loved and hated that pout of his. you could break it if you could and then you would shower him with kisses until his lips were swollen.

“that’s not it. what are you doing?” you laughed, curious to know what he was planning. he had a gift box on his lap and a suggestive smile on his lips.

“i was preparing your gift. you got ‘ere just in time.” alex replied, patting the carpeted floor next to him so you could join him.

‘’i thought we were only going to exchange gifts at your parents' house in two days.’’ you answered in a slight tone of inquiry as you sat down next to him, your thighs touching and soon your shoulders too when he leaned in to kiss you on the temple.

he let out a laugh through his nose.

‘’believe me, this is not the kind of gift you want to open in front of my parents.’’ he joked, making you raise your eyebrows, curious about what was inside the box he was holding in his lap.

‘’is it a new lingerie?’’ you asked as you tried to guess what was inside. he shook his head in denial.

‘’why don't you open it and see?’’ he suggested, nudging you with his elbow so you could open the box. you knew you could be expecting anything from him now since he wasn't going to tell you what was in there. alex was the kind of guy who never got tired of surprising you.

carefully, you undid the red bow that was on the green box, lifting the lid cautiously, taking a quick peek. your eyes widened, several feelings going through your mind in a split second. in the end, you burst out laughing.

“alex!” you laughed, patting his shoulder, closing the box and opening it again to take another peek to make sure you were really seeing it.

“what? are you going to tell me you didn’t like it?” he asked, his shoulder touching yours, nudging you lightly. you laughed, checking it a second and third time, your face blushing. “stop it, you’re acting like you’ve never seen this in your life.”

“no, this is…” you laughed again, unable to react beyond laughter. of course, you weren’t expecting to see that inside the box. “did you even put a little bow on it?”

“of course, it’s a gift. i thought it would look more presentable for you.’’ he said and you rubbed your eyes, still laughing a little more.

“you’re terrible.” you shook your head, but you loved it, looking back with a sweet smile. ‘’but i liked the gift. i always wanted to have your cock with a little bow around it as a christmas gift.’’

“i would get naked for you, but it’s too cold.” he murmured and you laughed, kissing the tip of his cold nose.

“no need. thank you for the gift.” you said, kissing the tip of his nose again, trailing the kisses to his flushed cheeks, making a short path to the corner of his mouth, feeling the skin on his cheek flex because of his smile. ‘’can i enjoy it?’’

“you must.” he laughed, holding your hand, guiding it inside the box so you could finally touch him. he would be lying through his teeth if he said he wasn’t dying to feel your hand. you felt how warm and soft it was. in an impulse that you swore you couldn't control, you squeezed it gently, you played with the idea that it was like a squishy stress ball when it wasn't hard. "weirdo." he laughed, feeling that your touches were already starting to make him excited, the blood pumping quickly to the muscle, stiffening quickly. 

"don't judge me. you know how i like it when it's all soft like this.’’ you laughed in a murmur, your hand finally removing the box from the middle so that your path was clear for you to continue touching him, feeling his arm go around your waist so you could lie down next to him. 

he kissed your forehead, you could feel his breathing getting shaky as your fingers worked on him, feeling that softness being replaced by a warm and firm hardness, and you thought it would be a good idea to undo the tie around it, as cute as you thought it was. you didn't want it to end up hurting him because it was too tight. his face was close, too close. you could feel his eyelashes tickling your cheek as he tried to kiss you without getting lost in the feel of your fist closed around him, sliding up and down tortuously, the moans almost sounding like shy whimpers.

“god, i love when you touch me.” he murmured between kisses, feeling you tease him in response, circling the tip of your thumb around the tip, spreading the clear precum around it.

“does it feel good?” you asked, your eyes practically sparkling as you looked at him. he had no idea how beautiful he looked like this, with his eyes closed, his lips parted and his curly hair falling over his cheekbones like a small waterfall. you were completely fascinated by him.

“sooo good…” he dragged the word with a subtle movement of his hips, searching for your hand, searching for more, always more. he buried his face in your neck, making you roll over to feel the carpeted floor beneath your back. ‘’i love you so much…’’ he murmured, his hips moving against your hand in a delicious back and forth manner, your fist clenching a little tighter, increasing the pressure of your grip around him a little.

before you knew it, you were practically stuck together, one hand holding the back of your neck while the other undid the button of your jeans while he forced his knees to support the weight of his body between your legs. by this time he had already gotten rid of his pants, leaving them lying next to the christmas tree. you closed your eyes at the feeling of his fingers teasing the elastic of your panties under your pants, taking the opportunity to kiss his neck, delirious even more with the gasps he let out. alex had a sensitive neck, so you took advantage of every opportunity to kiss him and feel his skin shivering against your lips.

he mumbled something that you didn't understand at first because you were so lost in the sensations, but as soon as he stopped moving his hips and brought the hand that was on the back of your neck to your cheek, you came back to yourself.

‘’what did you say?’’

he smiled, kissing your forehead.

‘’i asked you to lift your hips, love. can't touch you with you wearing those pants.’’ he said, gentle and patient, even though he was seething inside. you raised your eyebrows, feeling foolish for mere seconds before lifting your hips, letting him do the rest. he paused for a moment, looking at your panties. ‘’those panties are new, aren't they?’’

‘’for god's sake…’’ you laughed, covering your face with one hand. alex paid attention to everything, even the clothes you wore, and it was no different with your panties. he was just very observant, especially when it came to you.

‘’what? i just asked.’’ he laughed too, leaving his palm on the light fabric printed with small roses on white cloth, letting his thumb slide from top to bottom, meticulously over your sensitive spot, making you curl your toes a little. ‘’it's not like i didn't like it. i love roses.

‘’they’re new, yes.’’ you confirmed. ‘’does it make any difference now?’’

‘’not now.’’ he shrugged, hooking his fingers on the sides so he could pull the piece down your legs. ‘’in the end, all the panties you wear end up thrown in some corner of the room. this one here would be no different.’’ he said as he finished pulling the intimate piece over your feet, leaving it in an ignored place.

you felt a voracious shiver, not only because of the cold on your legs, but because you were so close and he was touching you so masterfully, letting his fingertips slide along the inside of your thigh, he could already feel the heat radiating off your skin as he trailed lower, touching every part of your skin that he could reach. 

before you knew it, he was already between your legs, hooking his hands under your thighs to spread your legs apart gently, nuzzling his nose along your inner thigh, inhaling your scent. it was good, almost intoxicating to him, but he couldn't live without it.

your hand automatically moved to the back of his head, the relatively long locks barely held between your fingers, so silky and soft.

he looked up at you, the desire in his eyes mirroring yours as he pressed a soft kiss right on your clit, making it throb in response. it was something similar to when you kissed the tip of his cock when you're about to give him a blowjob, like a silent and promising tease.

his tongue danced slowly and deliberately along your folds, licking all the way up, savoring your taste as soft whimpers escaped your lips, his hands now on your inner thighs, keeping them spread wide for him to feast on you.

‘’feels so good…’’ you managed to say between the whimpers and moans. his heart beat even faster, knowing he was pleasing you just right. not that he didn't know, but he liked it when you were vocal. he swirled his tongue around your clit in slow circles, occasionally dipping it lower to tease your entrance with the tip of his tongue. your hand on his hair tightened, letting him know he was on the right track.

‘’want more?’’ he asked with a muffled voice.

‘’only if you want to.’’ you answered, not wanting to force him into something, even though you knew alex could suffocate to death between your legs if you let him.

his answer was to bury his face between your legs, his tongue delving inside you, stopping only when he moved his lips so he could suck your clit hard. your breathy and desperate moans only turned him on, his fingers almost penetrating your flesh to keep your legs spread wide as he ate you out relentlessly.

‘’taste so good, baby.’’ he moaned against your flesh, his nose pressing on your clit as he devoured you ravenously, lapping at your core and drinking your essence greedily. ‘’so fucking good.’’ he hissed, feeling his own desire throbbing between his legs as he worked you higher and higher.

‘’fuck, alex, i'm…’’ you whispered, feeling your skin shivering. you usually never got goosebumps when he was eating you out, so when he felt the skin on your thigh crawling under his hands, he paused, looking up at you with his face glistening in saliva and your wetness.

‘’are you cold, love?’’ he asked when he felt the goosebumps on your thigh. you nodded. ‘’hold on.’’ he said, reaching behind him to grab a folded blanket you had left there the day before because you were listening to alex play the piano and almost always ended up dozing off to the melody.

he put the blanket over himself and turned his body to lie on top of you, warming you not only with the blanket, but with the heat of his body on yours.

‘’better?’’ he asked, making sure you were feeling warm enough. you smiled, wrapping your arms around his neck and kissing him, the kiss answering everything you both needed to know at the moment, the taste of you lingering on his tongue, now mixing on your mouths.

as the kiss dragged on, you felt his hand caress the skin of your belly under your sweater, going up to fondly grope one of your breasts, your legs locked around his waist bringing him impossibly closer, your intimacies touching, rubbing against each other in a frenzy of anticipation.

‘’alex…’’ you whimpered softly, nibbling on his earlobe, feeling him shiver slightly against your body.

‘’i know, love, i know.’’ he murmured against your neck, not needing to say anything else, just act. and so soon, you felt him fit perfectly between your legs, moving in and out slowly, and that alone made your body tingle and soften at the same time.

your skin burned like burning embers, every touch and every thrust seemed to take you to a private paradise where all that existed was the two of you getting lost in each other, drowning in that ocean of pleasure. the lights oscillating between yellow, orange and red on the christmas tree next to you seemed to make his face flush more when he lifted his face to look at you, you could easily get lost in that surrendered look, in that little face contorted with pleasure.

but you couldn't let yourself be fooled, not when he brought his hand around your neck, his thumb caressing and feeling your rapid pulse under the skin of your neck while his hips moved more fluidly and, consequently, faster. the sound of skin colliding with skin began to echo through the small studio, joining the sound of both of your moans.

you clung tighter to him, your hands invading his sweater to feel the boiling skin of his back against your palms. it was too hot now, so you pulled the blanket away, both of you wearing only your sweaters on top. soon, your hands returned to roaming his sides, holding his hips and encouraging him in his rhythmic and precise thrusts.

turner leaned in to kiss you again, your hands going straight to his hair, your fingers tangling in the strands and the little bows attached to it. you didn't know whether to moan or laugh at the fact that you were having sex while he had little red bows attached to his locks. alex was too unpredictable for his own good.

but you chose to moan, especially because it was impossible not to have that reaction when you felt him so good and so deep like that, the inside of your cunt seemed to be perfectly molded for his cock, squeezing and feeling him hitting that spot over and over again, which forced your body to contort and cling to his tighter. his name was like a melody in your mouth, echoing vividly with the sound of his thrusts, you even found it difficult to keep your eyes open to admire every little expression on his face.

‘’you look so beautiful like this, you know that?’’ he gasped, holding your face with his hand, his fingers gently squeezing your cheeks, his lips giving you several little kisses, one after the other. ‘’so beautiful and so mine…’’ he continued, punctuating his words with sharp and deep thrusts, knowing that you loved the compliments, loved how much he liked to compliment even your toenails, no matter how much you told him how ridiculous they were.

you brought your hand between your bodies, wanting more stimulation. your fingers circled lazily around your pleasure point, feeling him go back and forth inside you, listening to the muffled sounds from the back of his throat as he kissed and nibbled on your neck, his hands gripping your skin in any way he could, marking his territory.

you tried not to moan too much, but it was so hard, you had a lot to deal with at the moment, and you tried to kiss him or bite your lip so as not to let any loud sounds escape. but damn, this was driving alex crazy, completely out of his mind to the point where he couldn't control himself as he moved so fast, that knot in his stomach was starting to form inside him.

when you felt him slow down a little, your eyes searched his as you lifted your eyelids, a look of slight desperation taking over his facial features.

‘’what's wrong, love?’’ you asked, trying not to be so worried, your free hand reaching up to touch his face.

‘’it's just that i... fuck, i'm so close…’’ he murmured a little breathlessly, swallowing hard. ‘’i don't want to come right now...’’

‘’honey, it's okay…’’ you reassured him. of course, it was rare for him to cum before you, but it happens. he always made sure to hold back as long as possible so that you could have your pleasure, maybe even twice so that he could finally feel free to let the orgasm consume him too. you said it was selfish of him, but he never listened to you.

‘’no, not before you.’’ he shook his head, reluctantly holding himself back. but it was so hard when he felt your walls squeezing him, making him so sensitive and stimulated that it was already out of control.

‘’alex, look at me, love.’’ you said, holding his face with both hands. ‘’you know i don't care about that.just let go, i'm right behind you, i promise.’’ you said, distributing hot kisses all over his face, your hand returning to your clit, rolling your hips a little against his to stimulate him more.

it didn't take more than that. your soothing words, your kisses on his neck and the feeling of you squeezing around him like a warm hug were enough to make him spill inside you, holding your thighs tightly as he pulsed inside you vigorously, making you feel that familiar feeling of fulfillment.

you barely had time to open your eyes and catch your breath. you felt him slide out of you, his member being replaced by his ring and middle fingers, burying them inside you until reach his knuckles, the unannounced invasion made you close your legs in a reflex, soon relaxing them when he kissed your face.

‘’let me take care of you now, darling." he whispered to you, your foreheads pressed together as he pumped his fingers back and forth quickly, and you were already delirious. you loved it when he touched you. of course, being a natural guitarist, turner really knew how to move his fingers, especially inside you.

in no time, you were already a mess, his fingers continued tirelessly, alternating between going back and forth or curving upwards, massaging your g-spot with fervor. you didn't care that everything was getting too wet, too sticky with his fresh cum dripping from your hole that was now filled with his two fingers, you just knew how to enjoy the sensation and slowly come undone by spasms.

‘’alex, alex…’’ you moaned, both of you working together with your fingers, building your orgasm little by little as you grabbed the back of his neck to bring him into a wet kiss at the same time that you reached your climax, shaking and almost writhing like an acrobat on the floor, his fingers continued to stimulate you, but with less intensity now, trying not to overstimulate you.

‘’mhm, that’s it, baby.’’ he mumbled between sweet kisses on your swollen lips, satisfied that he could make you finish.

the panting breaths soon died down, your hearts returning to normal beats as he laid his head on your chest, his sticky fingers finally abandoning you, leaving you with a strange feeling of emptiness as it happened every time.

you murmured softly to him, your free hand undid one of the ties in his hair so that you could comb it back, unsticking the strands from his sweaty forehead.

“hm?” he asked, looking up so that his lazy eyes met yours.

“i'm cold again.” you pouted and he laughed through his nose, reaching for the blanket that was thrown on the floor again, covering your completely tired bodies again. ‘’i loved the gift, al.’’

‘’you're welcome.’’ he murmured with a low laugh, reaching for the skin of your collarbone to give it a kiss or two. you smiled, pulling him closer, his body was on top of yours, but he tried not to distribute his weight completely on you. he kissed your flushed face more times than he could count, his hand caressed the back of your neck, and you swore you could hear him purring like a kitten.

‘’it feels so good here…’’ you murmured, your voice was sleepy. alex chuckled softly, you always got sleepy after sex, so this was no surprise to him anymore.

‘’we can stay here a little longer.’’ he replied, hugging you and rolling your bodies so that you could be with your body on top of his.

he held your face, the little kisses didn't seem enough, so he kissed you more intensely, his tongue parting your lips so he could explore your mouth as if it were the first time. when you broke the kiss, he swallowed, licking his lips as if he was thoughtful and trying to come to a conclusion.

‘’what's wrong?’’ you asked curiously.

‘’kiss me again.’’ he asked. you found it unusual, but didn't say anything back, kissing him the same way, letting him taste your mouth more. when you broke the kiss again, he laughed. ‘’did you eat one of the cookies on the counter?’’

‘’of course i did.’’ you laughed along. ‘’did you only realize now?’’

‘’yeah. i was too busy fucking you to realize that.’’ he said and you rolled your eyes at how direct he was, but you didn't think it was bad. ‘’but i liked it. cookie kisses.’’

‘’did you like it?’’ you smiled, feeling him brush his nose against yours in an eskimo kiss.

“i loved it.” he replied, your foreheads and the tips of your noses touching as if they were made for that. “and you know what else i love?”

you smiled. you knew what he was going to answer, but you always liked hearing him say it.

“what?” you asked, your eyes shining at him as you waited for his answer.

“you.”

a/n: idk if i'll post anything else in the next few days or before new years, so merry xmas in advance <3

taglist (let me know if you want to be included or excluded): @thenightslikeawhirlwind, @goblinontour, @yourstartreatment

[intheshadows2000s]

Bug

In the charmless morning, I promise to be gone

Warnings: 18+! smut

This is Part Three

Part Two

Days passed where the revelation sat clear in your mind. Everytime you saw Alex, all you could imagine was a little girl in his arms. Everytime you saw him slide into his car, you imagined that he was going home to her. Everytime you saw him munching on his cereal, you wondered if he hadn't had time to eat because he was getting her ready for the day.

Your perspective on him had completely changed. And yet....there was no reason for you to keep observing. Alex had made it clear that he couldn't be with you, nor try in any capacity, to fit you into his life. You accepted it, of course you did. But that didn't stop you from wondering.

"Oh, sorry!"

You bumped into her, so lost in your mind that you hadn't even realised where your body was taking you. You were moving on muscle memory alone, no regard for your surroundings. You'd trusted your body to get you into the room mindlessly, but that proved wrong.

"Don't worry love, I know what it's like!" Joanna giggled as she helped you pick up your things. She had a kind face, prominent cheekbones and piercing baby blue eyes that nearly sent a shiver through you. You stared into them with a shy smile as you both stood back up, your things back in hand and yet you didn't make a move to leave and neither did she.

"Friday isn't it?" she sighed, "sometimes I come in and I don't even know what I'm thinking half the time."

You chuckle, "yeah. It's....the break couldn't come soon enough."

Which was a stark difference to how you'd started this term. You'd been so excited; trivial things like the leaves changing and the icy winter mornings seemed pathetic compared to what you were experiencing now. You didn't even notice the branches on the trees or the beauty of the morning anymore. Not when you'd spent weeks in your head.

"You're literature right?"

You nod, "modern."

"Ah," she grins, her white teeth sparkling under the light,  eyes bright and beautiful, "my favourite."

"I better head to class," you shift the books further up your chest, suddenly feeling small and insecure next to her. She's clearly larger than life, seems nice and is gorgeous. You're not surprised Alex had his eye on her but the two of you couldn't be anymore different. Did he get with you for that reason? Because you were different to the relationship that failed him? To the mistakes that haunt him?

"Sure," she stepped out of your way with a smile, "Joanna by the way."

"Samantha," you smiled back, though felt the reserve in it.

"See you around Samantha."

You buried your head in your hands at the end of the day. It had been a harrowing week - another one - and you were starting to get really fed up of your own mind that wouldn't stop racing, wouldn't stop tiring you out before you had a chance to wake up and face the day like the positive, strong woman you were a mere few weeks ago.

You sat in the staff room, stalling the process of going home even though your bed was telepathically tempting you. Your feet felt heavy despite being pressed steady against the ground, you felt overcome with emotion but which one, you couldn't decipher yourself. The scent of dust tickled your nose and your eyes were heavy, cheeks hot as you pressed your palms to them. But you couldn't move. You didn't want to move. You sat there for ages, unmarked papers beneath your hands, wondering when you'd get the motivation to move.

You knew it was wrong - ridiculous, even - to mourn over something that had barely started. And that's where the inner turmoil came into play. You couldn't believe how pathetic you were being and yet you couldn't figure out how to stop feeling this way.

The room was dark, only a few lone lights left on out of the several cast on the ceiling. It was late - hours had passed and you'd managed to mark a few papers but you were still lost in your mind, the words in front of you nonsensical, jumbled beneath your tired eyes.

When you heard the door creak, you jumped, looking up with wide eyes to the source of the noise.

Alex had his eyes fixed on his phone, the other hand moving to his hair once the door had been released. He walked in absentmindedly, not noticing you at first and you couldn't find it within yourself to speak, to interrupt the motions of his being.

But as you shuffled slightly, your chair creaked and he looked up with a comically alarmed expression, a small gasp leaving his lips. His eyes slowly softened when he realised it was you and you smiled sheepishly, shyly almost.

"Hey."

He smiled, "hey."

"Enjoying the peace?" you nodded back to what he'd told you at the beginning - that he loved working alone when everyone else was gone.

"Mhm," he chuckled, "you?"

"Yeah...."

He moved to the kettle with the mug you hadn't noticed. Although, throughout your many, many observations of him, it wasn't hard to gauge that he was a caffeine addict. You rarely saw him spare of a coffee, usually with some kind of sweet syrup around the rim and a load of frothy milk.

"You want one?" he waves the mug in the air, a beat passes where you stare at it wondering whether it's even appropriate to say yes. But eventually, you nod. It's not like you're going anywhere anyway.

Alex is quiet as he makes the drinks, the kettle being the only thing to make a sound in the room. The air feels still and yet tension threatens the corners of the room, ready to seep in and make you both squirm if needs be. For now, you avert your eyes back to the papers and try to remain calm - begging your heart not to pound, begging your mind not to stray.

It surprises you when Alex places your coffee down, the steam bringing a warmth to you that you didn't know you needed and you breathe a sigh of relief. But instead of scurrying off - he pulls a chair out and sits next to you.

"You don't mind?"

You shake your head and he smiles in relief, eyes saying things his lips never could.

The two of you refocus on your work. You actually feel more content with someone around. It's hard to think about the source of your problems too deeply when he's sat right next to you. His presence overwhelming but for once, you're comfortable in it. He's busy marking work too, a small frown on his brow, a crease in his glabella making him look angrier than he probably is.

His hand is heavy, the sound of his own scratching the paper much more prominent than your delicate scribble.

A while passes, you manage to get engrossed in your work but then you notice that Alex's scribble has stopped. You look up to find him looking at you. He's leant on his elbows, his eyes glazed with something, some emotion that you can't work out. Even as you look at him though, he doesn't look away. He doesn't blush, doesn't waver. He just stays, staring, intense as ever, raising goosebumps all over your skin without even trying.

"Can I kiss you?"

"Ale-"

He cuts you off. You barely comprehend that his body moves, but he's launched at you before you can. His lips reach yours, hot and wet and hard from the get go, one hand finding your cheek, the other gripping the table edge like it's trying - and failing - to hold him back.

Your gasp is swallowed by him as his lips slide over yours, unmoving, eyes wide open in shock. But soon enough the familiar heat, the simmering desire, overtakes you. You kiss him back, moaning gratefully at the taste of him, coffee and mint and smoke. The feel of his rough hands stroking at your skin. The weight of his want, unspoken and yet clear as anything.

He's out of breath when he pulls away, resting his forehead on yours. You stare into his eyes, dazzling with a spark of something, perhaps excitement. You can't help but smile, and at that he returns it, before kissing you all over again.

Desperation overcomes you both. You don't know how but suddenly you're both stood, pressed against each other. His fingers draw delicate patterns on your hips and your fingers tug at the roots of his wild, untamed hair. The scent of his engulfs you, the familiarity making you feel comfortable - as if you're exactly where you should be, doing exactly what you should.

The world around you crumbles, leaving you stood in a dark abyss of him, him, him and nothing beyond that. You don't even try to understand it this time, you just let it happen and revel in it.

"You're so beautiful," he whispers against your lips, "I just couldn't help myself."

His accent, blended with roughness and lust, nearly makes your knees buckle. You grip him harder, pulling him closer. The heat of him against your thigh, hard and wanting, is too tempting. You have the urge to please him, to relieve the tension he always seems to be carrying around. And so, you let yourself fall, and he watches you with heavy lidded eyes as your knees hit the scratchy carpet with a soft thud.

It's so dangerous what you're doing. At work, where anyone could walk in, any cleaners, any other teachers, the dean even. But you don't care, not in the moment when you're tugging at the tough button of his trousers and unzipping them.

Alex lets his fingers rest in your hair, the carefully conducted curls falling loose under his grip. He holds you steady, still, as you pull him out of his boxers.

You hadn't seen him last time, hadn't managed to observe but only feel. Now, you gasped when faced with him, well endowed, swollen and leaking all for you.

"You're so big," you whispered, your hand wrapping around the base of him. He was too thick for you to fully wrap your hand around. It was no wonder you'd spent all of last weekend hobbling around like a penguin.

He chuckled, "I guess I'll take it as a compliment."

"You should," you look up to him with wide eyes, innocence replaced with something sultry. One of his hands came around to cup your jaw, his touch tender, alluding to the fact his desire goes beyond just the physical.

You played with him for a while, your touch tantalising, lips swelling in anticipation and yet you wouldn't lean forward, wouldn't take him right where he wanted you most.

His eyes, wide and brown were pleading with you to do more. To take him. But you looked at him with heavy lidded eyes and a smirk that said it all. He'd have to ask.

You stroked him again, languid movements intent to tease. A whimper slipped from his lips that made your hold tighter. His back hit the wall with a thud but you were right there beneath him, crawling to meet him again, one hand around him, one hand stroking his trembling thigh.

"Fuck Sam," he groaned, just as you spat on him, spreading it down him for a smoother touch. He shuddered at the friction, everything was going so perfectly for you but his hips were chasing your touch and you weren't even close to giving in.

"Does that feel nice?" you raised your eyebrows, the glint in your eyes sinister. It was a side to you that you hadn't even discovered but seemed to enthral him. Behind the desperation, you could see that he was loving it. Loving you. On your knees. Torturing him.

"You know it does," he gasps, making you giggle as you kept moving, kept your pace slow, "come on love. You know I need more."

"Do I?" you purr in response, moving your mouth to his tip, pressing your lips just against him enough to taste the saltiness and warmth of his pre release. Alex's hips stutter, a low groan falling from his lips. His hand in your hair pushes your head in, an uncontrollable action but necessary nonetheless.

You know you're dancing on the edge of time. As much as you'd like to draw this out for minutes, hours, even - you don't have the leniency to do so. Not now, at least.

So you lean in, encasing your lips over him, finally giving him what he's so clearly craving. He takes a sharp inhale of breath, it releases in short spurts with some sweet, soft hums escaping him between them.

You start your rhythm, embracing the feel of him in you again, the heat of him in your mouth. Alex is loud off the bat, not shy like last time and he keeps his eyes driven to you as you move. Chocolate brown pools with adoration swirling around his irises nearly make you collapse against him and beg him to be yours. Steady hands that find your hair, twirling the strands around long fingers make you want to fall against him and never let go, beg him to hold you forever.

"That's so good darling," he whispers, soft like velvet, making your heart clench in its cavity, your stomach flip. You never knew a moment so heated, so full of passion and desperation, could also be so damning. There's something about the way he looks at you, the way he touches you that feels as if it's branding you to be his, to want nothing more than him. If you thought you were a goner before, this is sealing the deal.

"You're gorgeous," he breathes out, a moan tumbling from swollen lips when you swirl your tongue over him, staring up through your lashes. His cheeks, stained red, beads of perspiration forming on his forehead as he sucks in another breath. You play for a while, trying to find what makes him tick; you find that when you take him deep, to the point tears are streaming and you're close to gagging, his hips bucks like he means to become you and a strained curse falls from his lips.

So you do it again, and again, until he's near unravelled, looking dishevelled against the wall.

"Fuck...." Alex's hips stutter, his eyes rolling somewhere into the back of his head in time with his head, banging against the wall. The tremble of his thighs under your palms make you smirk against him, still swirling and sucking like your life depends on it, the lewd wet sounds bouncing off the walls.

"Oh Christ," his hand tightens in your hair, enough for it to hurt but you ignore the pain, "I'm gonna-"

He cuts himself off with a groan, the look of urgency in his eyes makes you smile around him but you don't pull off and so he lets himself go, not that he appears to have much choice. His eyes fall closed as he releases in your mouth, a soft whimper falling from his lips that's like music to your ears.

Eventually he stalls your movements, gentle now but overstimulating nonetheless. He's breathless, undone and in awe when you stand up, shaky on your legs. He cups your elbows and kisses you deeply, humming into your mouth with a sound much like content. Much like fulfilment.

"Thank you," he mutters against your lips, pulling away with a watery gaze full of unspoken words. The air has been tainted and yet the fear to make it worse still lingers, you take a step back from each other, staring wordlessly towards each other. You're pining, he's pining but there's something invisible between you both telling you that it isn't right. That it can't be.

You pulled your phone out, muttering something about sorting yourself out only to gasp in horror when your reflection finds your eyes.

Alex looked perfectly composed. You, however, definitely didn't. Your makeup had run, your hair was a state from his eager hands and your cheeks were spotted with red from the lack of oxygen you'd consumed while going down on him.

"I look terrible," you groaned, trying to tame your hair but without a brush there wasn't really much you could do. Alex grimaced and shook his head.

"No you don't."

"Okay," you rolled your eyes, making him stifle a smile, "but I do look like I've just sucked a dick."

"Yes well," he laughs, "I think it suits you."

"Cheeky!" you exclaimed, watching his face light up and his shoulders relax as the laughs rumble through him. It's rare to see him casual, lost in anything other than his own mind. But it's a sight to behold, and you can't help but smile at it. At him. Being like this with you.

You wonder how long it will last this time. Whether on Monday, you'll stride in and act like you barely know each other again. Alex is confusing, even in his explanations. You don't have it in you to ask and ruin the moment but you hope, pray, that he won't shut you out all over again. Even if you're just friends, it's better than him having his way and then ignoring you entirely.

"The Christmas party is soon," he says. You've both packed up and began walking to the car park. You still don't look presentable but luckily it's just the two of you around, bar a few students on campus that you thankfully don't recognise, "are you going?"

"Jane has mentioned it and I've said yes," you nod and he smiles.

"Great."

"Are you going?"

"Mhm."

You roll your eyes at his classic response, the same one that used to grate on you, you now found endearing. You knew why; you were starting to like him. It was probably dangerous territory, one that he'd actively stated you both shouldn't cross. You were staring straight into the face of fire, feeling the heat of the flames and yet you just kept walking towards it like the blend of oranges had you hypnotised beyond sense.

"Come to mine before. For dinner."

"But you said about....we can't...."

"Please?" he said, stopping at your car. You stood by the door, peering inside like there might be a sign in there on what decision to make. Nothing. Just darkness and one glistening penny.

"Well don't you think....if we turn up together?"

"We'll walk in separately," he defends, "it's no biggie."

"No biggie?" you raise your eyebrows, barely suppressing a smile at the casual language. Alex rarely talks like an actual human being and more like a human novel. He smiles and nods and so you shrug.

"I'll think about it."

He nods and you get in your car, he taps the window and waves as you pull out of the car park, watching his silhouette slowly fade from your vision in the rear view.

Alex's apartment feels like an entirely different space from when you were last here. The room, bathed in a warm yellow glow, appeared cosy and inviting opposed to the darkness that had swallowed you last time.

He took your coat and you blushed as your eyes grazed over the leather settee, still tainted in your minds eye with what had occurred on those very cushions. You felt like you could see the two of you on it, him on top of you, your heels dug into his pale skin, your nails digging into his shoulder blades, leaving marks that were yet to fade.

It smelt of vanilla, but blended in was the classic, warm scent of old spice. For once, you couldn't smell smoke. Your eyes grazed over the simple decoration. It wasn't much of a home, per se, there were no photos, no ornaments, no nod into who he was beyond the university walls. But in the corner sat a guitar, a sleek black fender, it looked expensive with its perfectly polished silver strings and the lights bouncing off its varnished texture. Other than that - beige, black and white was all that met your eyes.

You'd hoped the light would offer some insight to his character. Maybe there would be a photo of him and his daughter, or a novel that strayed from his usual interest or even a record on a shelf to show what music he likes. But nothing. Nothing except that guitar. At least that explained the callouses. One, tiny minuscule detail about him that you now knew, felt like a success.

"Drink?" Alex wondered, walking to the open plan kitchen. The beige counter tops were offensively ugly, he looked wrong stood there so beautifully in a tux against something that looked so nineties and not the trendy part.

"Sure."

"I've got water, tea and wine," he shrugged and you laughed.

"Wine."

"White? Red?"

"White."

"Mhm."

He busied himself making the drinks while you sat at a glass table, perfectly clean, not one scratch, nor clutter on it. It made sense that he was a clean freak, his office was the same. But he himself appeared so unorganised, that it was a stark difference. Another small thing that seemed a success to know. Yet no less confusing.

"How long have you lived here?"

"Hm?" Alex glanced around, his cheeks splotched with various shades of pink and red, lips pulled inward. It was almost as if he'd forgotten you were there, the guest he'd so brashly invited here, long lost in the mind that raced beyond his comprehension.

"Oh, um....about five years."

"Is that when you started living here....or?"

"I've always lived here, well, in the city," he moved over to you with the glasses of wine and sat next to you at the table, "I moved into this flat when I got the job at the uni."

"What did you do before?"

He took a gulp of wine. Your incessant questions were clearly putting him on edge but at least he was answering them with more than his notorious 'mhm'. You'd probably leave if he dared utter that as a response again.

"I was a teacher at a secondary school. But I hated it."

You chuckle, "yeah. I've heard it's the worst of education."

"The kids are just too uninterested," Alex shrugs, "I was the same at their age. They aren't old enough to....appreciate art, you know? I find it tough trying to pitch it. So I'd rather work with young adults, who at least think they'll be interested."

You hum in response, momentarily wondering what he's like as a lecturer. You can't imagine him conducting a class, stood at the front demanding the attention of several bored students. You try to engage as much as possible, choosing activity based learning and practice opposed to informative learning where you speak the whole time. How Alex might teach is lost on you, but something tells you those students respect him more than it may seem. He doesn't verbalise his expectations, but they're clear nonetheless. Even with you. Silent command. No room for defiance.

Alex asks you about your life, how you ended up here, where you've come from. You don't have the same experiences that he has but he still nods enthusiastically while you speak, seeming interested in learning more about you.

After a while, your stomach rumbles. It isn't audible but Alex can sense your discomfort nonetheless.

"I can't cook," he states, making you cock your head, "literally, not at all. It's my worst....trait.”

"Really?" you narrow your gaze, making him laugh, "I reckon there's worse things than that."

"I've got some menus here," he pulls some takeaway menus from a draw, spreading them neatly before you like he's presenting rehab choices opposed to dinner, "if you wanted a takeaway."

"We can just have food from the buffet when we get to the party, if you like," you shrug. Alex looks relieved and puts them away before you both move to the settee to continue your conversation.

You're surprised by how easy it is to talk to him when he's actually relaxed. You thought you knew of him before, now you realised that you hadn't had him sussed out at all. The panicky, quick nature of him at work was not the same laidback, easygoing man in front of you now. The fumbling, awkward conversations that had jeopardised your opinion at the beginning, were nothing on how intensely he listened to you now, asked questions, offered answers.

You got so carried away talking to him, that you forgot about the party entirely. But then....his phone rang.

"Sorry," he winced, moving towards it. He looked at the contact and let out a silent sigh, before holding his finger up to you and leaving the room.

You sat straight up on the settee, your ears practically stretching to hear what was being said. You were being assumptive thinking it must be her, but something deep in your gut, something wedging into you and making you queasy, told you it was.

You could barely hear him, it was more a gruff jumble of sounds opposed to any clear words, probably because he was trying to speak as lowly as he could so you wouldn't hear. Regardless, you picked up on a few short sentences.

"....will be there soon....lost track of time."

That's about all you heard before his goodbye rung out loud and clear. A few moments passed before he left the room, as if he was gathering himself. You knew that the night was over the second you saw his face, scrunched up with sorrow.

"That was Joanna," he said, lingering next to the chair that his coat was hung over, "um....I promised I'd look after Noelle for the second part of the evening so she could go to the party. So....I won't be able to make it to the party. We lost track of time."

"Oh, okay," you stand quickly, as if you need to race out quite literally this second.

"I'm sorry," he swallowed but you shook your head, fixing him with a smile.

"It's okay Alex, I understand. I'll call a taxi quickly-"

"I'll drive you there, I've only had one," he points to the wine.

"Oh no you don't have to," you wave off, feeling a little awkward. It's not that you expect to be his first priority, you're not even sure what this is, whether this is a date or just friendly like he'd claimed when he invited you. Either way, it felt weird for it to end so abruptly. You were used to dating people who had all the time outside of work free, which meant sleepovers and attending bars and parties with no worries. Momentarily, you'd forgotten this man was a father. He had priorities outside of you, and you couldn't blame him for it. Not at all.

"It's really no trouble, it's pretty much on the way."

"Okay," you caved, pulling your coat over your shoulders. Your half drunk wine sat mockingly on the table, a reminder of your interrupted night. Just when you'd started to melt into the evening, it was ripped away from you.

"Thanks for the wine, and the company. See you on Monday."

You climbed out of the car, waving goodbye to Alex who had his bottom lip caught between his teeth. He nodded, smiling but it was a meek smile. You weren't the only one affected by the abruptness of the end.

Regardless, you went inside and immediately made a beeline towards the bar ordering another glass of wine, even if you knew you shouldn't.

As you sat there, waiting for it to be served, you couldn't help but think about this....all of it. Alex having a daughter complicated things. But having a daughter with a woman who worked at the same place as you? That just made it worse. Soon enough, she'd be striding into this party and you'd have to pretend you hadn't been the reason he was late. It makes your skin crawl with unease. There was nothing between them, he said it himself. But a whole child? That's more than anything at all. That's more than a house, a marriage, it's even more than love. It's forever. There's no escaping it. Not that you'd want him to step away from it, especially not for you. But you can't deny it - it's hard to imagine ever being comfortable with the idea of being second best. Of him sharing something so precious, so personal, with someone else entirely.

You'd never even thought about being in this position, even though you're now in your thirties, and it was common. It still felt so foreign. Something you thought only happened to older people, to divorcees, to people who had had it all rather than some random encounter that led to something so serious. So permanent.

You had to admit that you weren't ready for it. To be in that position, to understand it even. And you were grateful that Alex had already laid down the law that it wouldn't work, stated he didn't have the time, wasn't in the position. Because admitting out loud that you weren't mature enough to cope with it would surely make you seem terrible. Especially when you like him so much.

Christmas break followed the party, and you were eager for some time to recover from the weird second half of this semester. Papers were due and you still had some marking to do before you were completely free, but that was pale in comparison to the work you'd had to manage during the term so you certainly wouldn't complain.

The town felt dull and empty when bared of the students. You walked through it with your shopping at hand. It was freezing but you'd fancied a walk nonetheless. The peace of the town hung over you in a blanket of comfortability. Even if it was bizarre not to hear the buzz of young people around the streets, it was nice for it to be still for a while.

You smiled at an older couple walking past, a woman walking with her kids, a man with a dog that jumped at you and made you giggle. Everybody was clad in hats and scarves and gloves, winter had come, full frontal but you loved how cosy it all was.

You found yourself sidling up in a cafe, a burning hot tea between your hands. The tie on cushions didn't disguise the hardness of the wood chair beneath you, the table was a little sticky with remnants of sugar poured throughout the day and they were playing radio pop hits that were so overplayed it made your ears hurt - but you felt content nonetheless. You leant back into your seat with a sigh, watching the people in the streets, the wind blowing around rubbish and leaves, the sky greying in preparation for a downpour you should probably try and avoid. But here you are, revelling in all the little attributes that make up a season.

"Samantha?"

A woman called your name, snapping you out of the peaceful trance you'd let swallow you whole. It was almost brutal being pulled back to reality, the music harsher, the tea scalding you as it poured over the rim when you jumped.

You looked up as you sucked the droplets off the side of your finger, catching sight of Joanna with that big, bright and brilliant smile. You glanced down to her side, she was holding the hand of a little girl who looked vacant, big brown eyes boring into nothing in particular. Her cheeks were red rosy from the sharp, cold air and she was wrapped up in a red felt coat that looked so cute you'd usually gush over it. But you couldn't gush. You couldn't even speak. You just looked back at Joanna, uselessly forming nothing except an awkward, forced smile.

"Fancy seeing you here! I love this place," she gestures around, "my mum actually owns it. So I could've got you that on the house if I'd seen you."

"Oh....no it's fine, thank you," you waved it off, eyes widening when she took a seat at your table, pulling the child onto her lap. You were in no position to tell her to leave, especially not in a place her own family owned. You felt so awkward that tears prickled at the corner of your eyes. Suddenly, the scalding tea felt more comfortable than her eyes on you.

"It's a beautiful place," you said, "when the students aren't here I like the quiet."

"Bad for business, but hell....good for some peace," she hummed in agreement.

"This is your daughter?" you gesture towards her, she's now gazing curiously at you, eyes so familiar to Alex's that it was almost scary. You lifted your tea to your lips only to cloud the view of her staring at you. You just couldn't bear it. You didn't even know if Alex would want this, you and the mother of his child sharing a tea like the oldest of mates with his own daughter felt so wrong. And yet she had no idea. You can't help but wonder what she'd think about you if she knew, or whether Alex had told her at all. Maybe she was trying to be nice to relax you, make it known that she wasn't a threat. Or maybe she was just clueless. You prayed for the first but knew Alex well enough that it would be the latter.

"Yes," Joanna looked down, lifting her daughter's hand up to wave, "say hello Noelle."

"Hello," the child's voice was a mere whisper, a sweet, subtle melody that made you smile despite yourself, despite the discomfort.

"Hi Noelle," you grinned, "that's such a beautiful name. So christmassy."

She smiled shyly, her cheeks glowing a beautiful rosy pink, "mummy says because I was born around Christmas."

Her pronunciation of the word made you chuckle, you and Joanna sharing that look that women do, when they're enamoured by a child just being so cute, so innocent.

"It's her birthday soon?" you wonder.

"Yeah," she kissed the top of her head, a teasing pout coming to play on her lips, "she'll be four. It feels horrible knowing she's getting older but I love it all the same. My little bestie, aren't you love?"

"Mhm," she nodded.

Alex. All you could see in her was Alex. Sure, she had the same face shape as her mother, the same raven dark hair. But her eyes, her words, even her mannerisms alluded to him enough that you'd probably consider she was his even if you hadn't known.

"Her dad is taking her to the farm today for an early celebration," Joanna smiled, "he should be here soon. You might know him actually, he's-"

"Sorry I'm late, traffic was-"

Alex burst in. In light of your conversation, you'd not even heard the bell ring. He stopped, skidded to a halt right at the edge of the table, nearly toppling over it. His eyes darted, from you, to Joanna, to Noelle who was grinning up at him, clearly excited to see her father.

"Oh....er....hi Sam."

"Alex," you nodded curtly and then stood, barely able to comprehend how this was happening. How your morning had been so relaxed and peaceful and somehow, despite that, he had come in like a tidal wave to ruin it all over again.

"I better get going before this defrosts," you lift up your shopping bag like it's proof in your measly excuse. Joanna glances between you and Alex, the smile on her lips faltering a little, like she can't work out why the air has grown so tense but she will soon enough.

"Nice seeing you Joanna, and lovely to meet you Noelle."

You rushed off before another word could be said, trembling with the realisation that you couldn't have handled it worse. Nevertheless, you keep walking, not even daring to glance into the window they're all still sat at,

The last thing you'd expected was to meet their daughter. Or for her to tell you about it. The way Alex had said it was as if no one at all knew, but clearly she was far less ashamed of the fact than he was. Or he just hated David interfering, which you couldn't blame him for.

Regardless, it took you hours to stop cringing and even then, every time you thought of it after, you grimaced to nothing and no one in particular. You'd barely spoken to Alex after that night at his. It wasn't personal and this time it wasn't just him - the end of a semester is busy for anyone involved. He'd still been friendly around and you too, you'd just assumed that was it. You were bound to be friendly at work and nothing more. You didn't even have his number, it had been a while since anything had happened. You were safe in the knowledge that you weren't ready and neither was he. That was it.

But this felt harrowing.

You groaned to yourself, burying your face in your hands on the settee. It was a small town and you bumped into people you knew frequently, but that didn't mean it wasn't weird that there'd been some big family reunion that you were smack bang in the middle of.

But then, it happened again. You were starting to think it wasn't a coincidence. What are the chances you'd bump into her again? So soon after seeing her beforehand. You felt as if she was seeking you out. You'd turned up to your local park run, hoping to clear your head with an easy pace and some good music. And there she just happened to be, stood with a group of women, some holding prams, some dogs and some childless. It looked like the cast of desperate housewives, but maybe that was just mean and you were bitter.

Either way, you'd have been happy to avoid her and pretend you'd not seen a thing. But of course, she spotted you, long arm waving high in the air and that same bright smile on her lips. You imagine Alex got out of it the other day, somehow, and that's why she's being so friendly.

"Hey Sam!" she ran over, jogging on the spot unlike you, arms crossed and suddenly regretting your decision to come to this stupid, trivial event, "we need to stop bumping into each other like this! What are the chances!"

You chuckled, it was a polite, but uncomfortable sound - almost weak. She didn't catch on, just waffled on about how she’s here every week, how much she loves it, how you should join them after for a coffee. You nod and hum where needs be, for the first time in your life wishing you'd been late so you could avoid this.

You ended up running your fastest pace ever, trying to finish the race before she did so you wouldn't have to talk to her over. The minute you were covered by the roof of your car, engulfed by a space that was just your own, you breathed a sigh of relief and basked in it for several minutes.

Luckily the next few weeks that passed, you didn't see her again. You spent a week in your hometown with family, and then new years with a friend somewhere else. By the time you returned, you felt okay again, ready again to face a new semester.

The students weren't back yet but it was early January and there was a lecturer training day to attend. You were nervous to see Alex but at the same time excited to see Jane and to get back into some normalcy after a month of eating crap and drinking wine.

Alex was already in the room when you entered, leant back in a chair spinning his pen around his fingers. A sheet with the agenda on sat before him, not that he seemed to be paying attention to it. Other than you, Jane who was leading the class and another lecturer who didn't even lift their head, he was the only one here.

You decided to bite the bullet, taking the seat next to him. He didn't even look around, he was engrossed in something or the other, you could never figure it out in that placid gaze. But when your hand laid on his upper arm, he jolted slightly before looking to you, those eyes displaying something much softer, more tender as they fixed on your face.

They roamed around your features, as if in the mere month that passed, he'd forgotten them entirely. But with each freckle, each crevice, each line of your face, he looked more and more enamoured. It can't have been longer than a second, but that second seemed to stretch into weeks, months, years. By the time his eyes returned to yours, your heart was racing and your mouth was dry.

You'd been looking at him too, studying the little things about him as if you'd forgotten it all too. The little mark below his lips, the fluffiness of his dark eyebrow, his perfectly straight but large nose, the way his stubble had grown in. Typically, all flaws. And yet you found something beautiful about all of them.

"How are you?"

"I'm fine," you swallowed, "tired. You?"

"Mhm," he nodded, his eyes growing hazy, as if he was in a lull caused by your presence, by the mood you emitted, "yes. Me too."

Nothing more was said, but it didn't feel like there needed to be. You worked next to each other in a comfortable silence, heavy with mood but not necessarily in a bad way. Unspoken words hung between you both, none cynical, none offensive - all pointing to what would happen, what you both knew you wanted the second you'd locked eyes today.

The day dragged on, you all sat, bored, disengaged, all still lost in the haze of Christmas just passed. It wasn't just the two of you and yet, it was bizarre that you two, different completely, but both constant thrivers, weren't interested at all.

By the time lunch came about, you jumped out of your seat and Alex wasn't far behind. He grabbed your hand, making sure it was just the two of you in the corridor before he dragged you into his office.

Two minutes passed, he was on you, hot, heavy, but not fast, not desperate like he usually was. He took his time, savouring each kiss you let him have, each stroke of your tongue against his own. His hands gripped your hips, but he wasn't tearing your clothes off, not yet anyway.

You appreciated the lull in the pace, the gentleness, the warmth. You found it endearing that he didn't only care about his fix, but the build up mattered to him too.

"I haven't stopped thinking about you," he said against your mouth, opened in a gasp as his palm slid up your front, fingers grazing just the edges of your breasts, "not even for a second."

"Me too," your admission was softly spoken, shyly spoken almost. You felt ashamed to admit it, after being so sure with yourself that it was over, that you weren't ready. But he was hard to resist, gorgeous, endearing and so, fucking, sexy.

"Yeah?" he grumbled, a low throaty groan leaving his lips when you pressed against him, your arms caught around his back, pulling him as close as you possibly could, "missed me?"

You huffed a laugh that soon turned into a moan when his hands caught you, lifting you up as he often did. He walked you both over to the desk, no urgency in his actions but you could feel his want nonetheless.

He placed you down gently, the wood pressing into your arse but you didn't mind - especially when he started kissing down your jaw, to your neck, sucking on the little pressure points that made you shiver and grope him tighter.

"What is it?" he wondered, pulling away momentarily. Your hand had slipped between you both, cupping him as he swelled beneath your palm. He wasn't fully hard yet but by the second he was growing, you could feel each inch expand as you squeezed and rubbed him right where he needed you.

"About you? What is it about you?" he spoke in hushed, broken sentences. It made your heart ache, the fact he felt that way, the same way that you did him.

"Alex...." you sighed, pulling his head back into the curve of your nape, stroking the soft, bouncy strands. He let his face rest there, even though he was fully hard beneath his trousers, he was making no attempt to continue.

"I don't wanna fuck you like this," he whispered, his voice muffled but you heard him clearly. For a moment you felt offended, thinking that he didn't want you at all. But then he looked up, his eyes filled with something sweet, something that alluded to how he saw this as more, even if he shouldn't, even if that threshold wasn't meant to be crossed by either of you.

You were teetering on the edge of it nonetheless, you knew it, and he did too. A quick shag in his office was exactly what would stop you crossing that boundary. But he didn't want just that. Even if it was just a shag. His eyes told you he wanted to do it properly, to take you properly. Like you deserved.

"I want this," you whispered, your hands gripping the collar of his shirt, you forced him to look at you, to see you. Legs spread, chest spotted red, perspiration on your hairline, desperate for him, "I want you."

His eyes fluttered closed as he leant into kiss you, all his resolve crumbling at your sultry admission. He couldn't resist your seduction, and it wasn't even that he wanted to. This was complicated and you both knew it, but when he was on you, touching you like this....neither of you cared.

Alex lifted your skirt up to your hips, fiddling with his belt and then his button with a dark expression as he stared at you. Your breath came in quick, short spurts that echoed through the space. You could see your chest in your peripheral vision, rising and falling rapidly, matching the pace of the moment, your heart beating erratically.

You didn't look down even as he pulled himself out, shifting your hips closing to the edge so he could align with you. His hands came down against your cheeks and his mouth covered yours in a tender kiss as he started to push in.

You were tight, even if you were also warm and wet. He hissed as you gripped him and your mouths fell open against each other once he buried himself to the hilt, swallowing each other's gasps.

His eyes became glassy, his eyelids falling until they were nearly shut and he kept his lips hovering over yours as he started moving, slowly at first, letting you get used to his size, the shape and curves of him inside of you.

"Fuck," he hissed, "Christ....you're so tight."

"This is so bad," you mutter in his ear, as he moves inside of you slowly, teasingly. Your walls tighten around him, enamoured by his arrival, his small, gentle movements nudging the right spots to make you shiver, "anyone could walk in."

He let out a breathy chuckle, his mouth moving past your lips to the shell of your ear. He started to move his hips harder, hipbones clashing against your own, the sound of skin smacking skin echoing through the office, the walls probably barely concealing the explicit sounds.

"Would you like that Samantha?" he whispered, his voice deep, a teasing lull that coaxed a moan from your lips, "to be caught?"

You shook your head and he thrust harder, faster. One of his hands lifted your legs, the new angle allowing him deeper. It begged for a moan from you but you bit your lip until you could taste blood, trying not to react, not to make a sound or feed into his ego. He was good at pretending but you could see just how much this was affecting him too, a sweat broken out on his forehead, his white shirt sticking to his skin and turning transparent from the heat of his chest.

"No?" he teased you, hard, faster, deeper until you couldn't hold back your moans, no matter how hard you tried, "imagine what they'd think hm? Miss Williams, so kind, so helpful, so eager to learn...."

You could barely get a sound out other than piercing, high moans that would only alert the whole university to the ongoings. You bit into his shoulder, stifling yourself, making him hiss and fuck you harder.

"But you're such a dirty girl aren't you?" Alex continues, the hand holding your leg moving to your hair, gripping it at the roots and roughly pulling your head back so your eyes were fixed on him, "so fucking dirty."

"Alex," you whined, thrashing. He released you quickly, your head falling back against the desk along with your whole upper body. He grunted repeatedly as he unbuttoned the smart white shirt you had on, just enough so that your tits popped out.

The way you were laid made your body easier to explore. Alex laid one hand on your stomach to keep you in place, the other drifted to your middle, to rub you right where you needed him. You were swollen, puffy, so fucking wet that it was dripping all over your thighs and his desk. The lewd sounds of squelching could be heard throughout the room, mingling with your moans, his grunts, his hips smacking incessantly against your own. It was sinfully filthy, and you were loving it. The glint in his eye told you he knew it all the same.

His eyes fixed on yours, flickering between them and your tits that bounced with each thrust he gave. You took him well, but you were starting to tremble. The pleasure was unlike anything you'd ever felt, so indescribably euphoric that you could barely string a thought together, let alone a sentence.

Alex felt you tightening around him, the tension in you coiling to the point where all it would take is one, hard thrust and you'd crumble around him.

"You want to come?" he quirked a brow, his voice still low, filled with his lust. You could feel him twitching, your hands gripping the edges of the desk, preparing for him to take his desperation out on you. You nodded but he tuts in response, delivering a particularly hard thrust that had you shining, tears spilling from your eyes and staining your crimson cheeks.

"Words darling," his own voice had lost its authority. He spoke through his teeth, just barely hanging on. You clenched around him and he nearly fell on top of you but just about steadied himself, shuddering deeply.

"Yes," you sighed, "please Alex. I want to come. Please make me come."

He groaned, speeding up the pace of his fingers circling your clit, fucking you at an angle that made your vision starry, like you were laid under the stars on the clearest night of the year.

Within seconds you were finished, you gripped him like a vice, your back arching and your body shaking as you reached a peak you'd never been to before - not even in previous orgasms. Your vision went black as the euphoria fell over you like fairy dust that you couldn't grasp but would've clung onto forever if you could have.

Alex groaned, watching your face scrunched in pleasure, feeling the vice-like grip of you, he couldn't hold back any longer. He pulled out quickly, only just managing to grip the base of himself before his warm, thick cum landed in splatters across your chest. It came so fast, so much of it, that a streak even landed across your lips, warm and salty seeping through the seam, making you moan weakly.

Alex collapsed on top of you. The weight was comforting in your vulnerability, you held him close, feeling him soften and drip against your thigh. Your hands found the roots of his hair, careful, tender touches that made his breathing steady, his chest slow in its pace.

You laid like that for ages. You had an hour before you had to return, but food, socialisation - they were the last thing from your mind. You laid beneath him and you held him close as he breathed into you, nuzzling into your chest. His shirt was probably ruined from how it was pressed into his release, but that didn't stop him from trying to get closer, trying to feel as much of you as he could before he had to say goodbye again.

"Alex," you muttered, feeling the vibration of a soft hum against your collarbone, "we need to go back."

"I know," he sighed, but he didn't move and you didn't urge him to. Your grip on his tightened, legs circling his waist, arms circling his neck. You clung to him like you never meant to let him go, because in this moment, you couldn't even imagine doing so.

But eventually, you knew your time was up. Alex peeled himself away from you, dismay covering his brow when he looked towards his chest to see the now dried, white marks staining his shirt. He pulled his jumper back over his head, disguising it before he pulled some tissues free from a box on the window seal and gently wiped up the remainder of the liquid, now cooled and sticky against your chest.

His eyes flickered to you as he did so, full of content. You managed a small smile at him, legs kicking as they hung loosely from the desk.

"Can I have your number?"

You laughed. You couldn't help it. It just seemed so obscene that after everything he didn't even have somewhere to contact you. He joined in, noting just how weird it was - the backwards way you two had gone about things wasn't exactly a romance novel, but it was the narrative of you two. And he loved that.

While Alex returned to the room, you went to the bathroom to compose yourself and fix your makeup before you had to return. You stared at your reflection, poking at your red cheeks, your eyes now fixed but still watery, the swell of your lips from his heavy kisses. You traced them now, trying to remember the feel of them, the reenaction in your head making you shiver, still so sensitive even minutes later.

Nobody batted an eyelid when you returned, much to your relief. You sidled back up next to Alex with your secret close to your heart, your thighs brushing together beneath the table. You felt like a giddy teenager, his touch like a flame to your gasoline.

It was unspoken but something had changed. Become more raw, more personal in the weeks that had passed. You wondered how that could be possible when you hadn't even seen each other, but concluded that he'd lived rent free in your mind from the moment he'd kissed you. And you were in no mind to evacuate him. Not yet, at least.

At the end of the day, you walked in a comfortable silence to your cars. He lingered at yours even when everybody else was going home, looking over to you with a soft, pleading gaze.

"Will you come over?"

You nodded, not willing to argue with something you wanted. Needed, even. Whether that be a conversation, another encounter or hours of you watching television - you wanted some time with him after craving just that for so long.

You followed his car back to his apartment and walked wordlessly inside. You felt a lot more comfortable now than you had at the beginning but after his revelation, his behaviour had made sense and you forgave him.

"I'll make us a brew."

You nodded and made your way over to his settee, the piece of furniture now familiar to you. You sunk into the cushions with a sigh, letting your head fall back. You've been tired recently, trying to outrun your mind isn't easy.

Alex placed the tea in front of you, the mug steaming, bringing a comfortable aura to the space. He clicked on the lamps and turned off the big light before sidling up beside you on the settee, closer than he had before. His arm came to rest around your head, and the butterflies in your stomach felt juvenile. And then he was leaning in, kissing you again, making them flutter all the way up your throat until you couldn't breathe, couldn't move bar your lips, on his.

He kissed you until your lips hurt and you were both gasping for breath, only finally pulling away when the tent in his trousers began to ache. He pulled at them, the discomfort evident on his brow.

"I like you Samantha," he said as he pulled away, his voice full of a wonder that was almost childlike.

You felt bad though, ending up frowning and looking away opposed to melting into him like you wished you could. Alex seemed to tense immediately, his grip on your shoulder tightening as he gently shook you.

"Was that....too much?" he breathed out, the insecurity in his voice piercing. He'd admitted to you how hard he found it with women and yet here you were, making it worse for him. But you couldn't lie.

"No it's not that," you reassure him, squeezing his hand, "you told me you weren't in a position for this."

"I know-"

"And to be honest Alex, I'm not sure that I am," you cringe as the words come out, having just fucked him and kissed his lips red raw at his own flat, it was contradictory and you knew it.

Alex shuffled a bit further away, more to grant you space than to scold you but you felt the heat of the moment dissipate and be replaced with that familiar gruelling tension.

"We work together-"

"But that doesn't have to be a problem," he argued, voice soft, hand still gripping yours like he was trying to convince you through the strength of his touch. And it could work, you both know that.

"It's not just that...."

Realisation flashes across his face, you quite literally see it dawn on him. Your heart races with guilt, your skin prickling with it and you try to remain neutral but you already feel close to tears before the conversation has barely begun.

"You aren't comfortable with Noelle," he states it, looking away from you with a hand trawling through his hair, regret lingering in his eyes.

"I don't know, I've never...." you huff, words failing you as you try to get this across without ruining his faith in women entirely, "....I don't know how to deal with that."

"Yeah it's....I get that," Alex completely removes his touch from you now.

"I find it weird being around your ex-"

"She's not me ex," Alex stands quickly, his voice sharp and it immediately silences you. Shocked, you sink into the cushions like you mean for them to swallow you whole.

"She's not anything to me like that," he says, hands on hips as if he's giving you a right telling off, you nod wordlessly but he's in his own head now, "it was an accident. And fuck....I'm glad its happened because I love Noelle, of course but....it wasn't on purpose."

"I know that-"

"No you don't," he holds a finger up to you, eyebrows and dark eyes blending into one angry, intimidating sight, "she's never been anything like that to me-"

"Alex you fucked her, didn't you?" you snap back, annoyed by how he's taking his frustrations out on you.

His hand trawls through his hair and he winces, like the reminder of how this situation came to be pains him somehow.

"Yes well....that's nothing is it, people fuck," he shrugs but he sounds uncertain of himself. Sighing, he looks up to the ceiling, blinking at the cracked paint, looking for something he's not going to find.

"I'm sorry, I just....I don't want to lie to you and say I'm completely comfortable with it. I've always been....with people that are child free, I just....I wouldn't know how to, balance that."

He nods, releasing his hands from his hips and his head back into place.

"Okay."

"I'm sorry Alex."

"It's fine," he says, too quickly for it to be true. You open your mouth to speak but he shakes his head, silencing you without even a word, "I'll see you out."

"Alex...."

He stood, hands on his hips again staring out the window to the nothing beyond it. It was dark, only the skeleton of a tree was visible, and yet you'd think there was some hidden magical wonderland in his line of vision that you were ignorant to, with how taken he was.

Even though he'd said those words, he didn't walk you to the door and you didn't attempt to leave. Instead you walked over to him, watching the way he nibbled at his lips and avoided your eyes at all costs, like he couldn't bear to see the rejection in you.

"Alex...." you reached him, your hands splaying out on each of his cheeks. You felt his breath quicken against your fingers and the muscles in his cheeks twitch, but other than that he gave no indication that he was aware of you.

"I like you too."

His eyes fluttered closed, a subtle shake of the head indicating that he didn't want to hear it. But you refused to leave here having him think he wasn't worth getting to know that lifestyle for. It wasn't that. It was your own self-doubt about how tolerant you could be, how you could rein in your jealousy, how you could accept to always be second best, that stalled you from jumping into this. Not him, not at all.

"It's not about you-"

"Noelle is a part of me," he snapped, pushing your hands off his face. You nearly stumbled from the force, but it wasn't violent, just a spurt of energy. He steadied you nonetheless, eyes growing apologetic.

"Which is what I find hard to....relate to."

"And that's fine," he nods again, "but just....don't make it about Joanna like she's the problem. We've never had any romantic feelings for each other."

"Okay."

You stood back, a little irked by his protection for something you weren't even criticising him over.

"Okay," he said back, equally annoyed.

The two of you stood like bratty teenagers, eyes fixed to the floor beneath your feet. You didn't want to leave, he didn't want you to go. But there was no going forward after what you'd just admitted. How could you just continue like those words hadn't tainted anything?

"You said you weren't ready either."

"I didn't expect to feel this way," his voice was strained, he was still torturing his hair, fingers trawling through the thick strands searching for some peace that was nowhere to be found, "about you. Not so soon, anyway."

"Neither," you admit, glad you're at least in the same boat about that. Alex's eyes flicker up to you, catching on yours with some kind of hunger simmering beneath them, but you gauge that it's not sexual, more so just the desire for you to be his. To want to be his.

"So, what now?" Alex wonders.

"You, kicking me out," you can't help but chuckle, your lips curling at the sides and Alex, try as he might to remain serious, quickly follows suit. The tension dissipates with your laughter, soon enough it's like nothing has happened at all.

You both sit back down, you grab your now lukewarm tea and Alex grabs the remote, chucking on some reruns of an old show you both admit to loving. For a while, you sit in that comfort. A tv buzzing, teas at hand, the cushions swallowing your outline until you can barely be arsed to move.

But you can sense Alex is still thinking about it all, you can practically hear his mind buzzing but you won't know what until he realises how to conduct it. You might never know what, if he doesn't conduct it at all. He’s not the type of man to speak without meaning to. You watch him silently, sipping on your tea as you do so.

His side profile is more stark even than his front, with his sharp edged nose, dark lashes, high cheekbones and prominent jaw, you could barely pull your gaze away from him even if you wanted to. He was perfect, like he'd been carefully sculpted with an angle grinder to ensure every little detail, every crevice of him made sense - looked right, even if not conventionally perfect.

"You know...." he caught you off guard when he turned to you, sudden enough for you to jump and be caught staring, your cheeks glowing a dusty rose, "being with someone is really different to having a kid with them."

"I'm sure...."

"It's something I wouldn't have thought about, before," he admits, angling himself towards you. You take the step to reach out and pause the TV, wanting for him to indulge, to tell you what's racing through that busy, busy mind.

"I always thought that when you had a kid with someone, you were bound to love them," he said, swallowing a gulp of his tea as if he was letting his words linger and settle before he said anymore; you watched him tentatively, awaiting his next move like he was the most interesting part in a play.

"Maybe it was because me own parents were so in love, you know? Me whole life, never any troubles," he said, "they're still together now. Same house as when I were young. Never gotten bored or owt."

"But then when Joanna told me she was pregnant, there was no....I just didn't feel that way about her. No matter how hard I tried, and it was the same for her with me."

"Sometimes kids happen, as long as they have two present parents, the love part isn't relevant," you offer and he hums in agreement.

"I was so naive," he laughs, though it's bitter, unamused, "always thought the day I had a baby it would be the woman I loved most in the world. At first it was really hard to navigate having a kid with Joanna, no one tells you how to raise a kid when you were never with their other parent, do they?"

"It seems to me like you're both doing a good job," you state, catching his attention, eyes lingering on yours as if he's trying to figure out whether you - childless, scared of them all together - is worth believing, "I guess the silver lining is that you both felt the same. It would make the process easier than if there was one of you who felt more than the other."

"Mhm," he nodded, seeming content enough with your words.

"Have you ever....been with anyone since she's been born?"

Alex stifles, hanging his head suddenly. You gauge that perhaps there was someone, someone ill fitting for the situation. Someone who scared him off. But he just nods his head and you don't press him any further.

"I guess what I'm trying to say," he clears his throat, looking into your eyes with that familiar burning intensity that ties a string around your heart and robs it from your chest in the blink of an eye, "is that I understand your reservations. I probably would feel the same, in your shoes."

"Friends?" you hold a hand out for him to shake, ignoring the bemused smile on his lips contradicting the sadness in his eyes. He holds his hand out to you, his touch electric enough to prove your words wrong. The spark between you is no less dulled, but for now you both ignore it.

"Friends."

[goblinontour]

Oh Baby, I Must Be Mad

you’re a bitch, he’s a bitch, he makes you his bitch

warnings: fetus!alex, smut, blowjob, fingering, grinding, fucking, talking, shouting

word count: 6.6k

You sat cross-legged on your bed, elbows propped on your knees, talking and talking as the words rushed out, barely giving you time to breathe. Your voice filled the small dorm room, your frustration practically vibrating off the walls. You barely noticed the cold that clung to everything. The kind that sank into your bones, made your breath feel like frost. But Alex, sprawled out next to you on the bed, felt it. 

He was bundled up like it was midwinter. Tight black jeans stretched over his long legs, a simple t-shirt under his jacket, and even that wasn’t enough. He’d pulled your blanket over himself at some point, though it barely covered him. You could see him, tucked up against the pillows, legs crossed at the ankles, his head tipped back slightly as he stared at the ceiling, eyes half-closed like he was contemplating his escape.

“And I swear, if Evan makes one more comment about his dad’s connections- like, okay, cool, we get it, your dad knows people, but you don’t have to keep saying it like it gives you the right to interrupt literally every conversation-” You huffed, pulling your hair into a messy knot on top of your head, the movement just as irritated as your words. “He thinks he’s God’s gift to the program, and I’m about to lose it if-”

“Mhm.” Alex’s response was so quiet you barely heard it, more of a grunt than anything, and it immediately set your nerves alight. He wasn’t even looking at you, just lying there, his hand resting over his stomach, fingers idly tracing the edges of his jacket.

Your mouth snapped shut, eyes narrowing. You stared at him for a second, feeling the bubbling frustration turn to anger. “Are you even listening to me?”

He blinked, slowly, before turning his head just enough to glance at you, his eyes heavy with boredom. “Yeah.” he said, the word drawn out lazily, like it took effort. “Evan. Dad’s connections. He’s annoyin’ you.”

You scoffed, sitting up straighter, your arms crossing over your chest. “You’re so not listening. You’ve been laying there like I’m just background noise.”

Alex didn’t respond immediately, his gaze drifting back to the ceiling. His fingers drummed a slow rhythm against his jacket, and it was clear that whatever you were saying wasn’t the priority here. It made your blood boil.

“Alex.” you snapped, uncrossing your legs so your knees bumped into his side. “Seriously. I’m talking to you.”

“I am listening.” he repeated, his voice a bit firmer now, but still with that edge of disinterest that made your irritation flare up.

“No, you’re not. You don’t care.” The words came out sharp, and you could feel the tension in the room rise as you glared at him, your fingers tightening into fists in your lap. “I’m here venting about my day, and you’re just lying there like you couldn’t give less of a shit.”

He exhaled through his nose, slowly, before pushing himself up slightly on his elbow, his brow furrowing. His eyes, which had been so indifferent moments ago, were suddenly darker, more focused on you now. 

“I’m listenin’.” he said, his voice low and clipped. “But maybe that’s because I don’t care about fuckin’ Evan or whatever prick’s been pissin’ you off in class this time.”

His words hit you like a slap, cutting through the air with the sharpness of his accent, and for a second, all you could do was stare at him. The dismissiveness of it, the casual way he said it, like your frustrations were nothing, made something snap inside you.

“Are you kidding me?” you shot back, your voice rising. “I don’t care about your stupid band half the time either, but I still listen when you go on about chords and lyrics and all that other shit you talk about.”

“Oh, so that’s how it is?” His jaw tightened, and he sat up fully now, legs bent as he turned to face you, his eyes flashing with something sharper. “I talk about the band for five minutes and you act like it’s some massive inconvenience, but you’ve been goin’ on about this bloke for the last, like, hour.”

“Yeah, well, at least when you talk, I actually listen.” you shot back, uncrossing your legs and swinging them off the bed. You stood up, the cold floor biting at your feet, but you didn’t care. Your anger was burning hotter than anything now. “You’re just lying there like you’re too cool to care about anything I’m saying.”

“You never let me get a word in, anyway.” he muttered, pushing himself off the bed, standing now, his hands running through his hair in frustration. His voice was rising, his usual calm demeanour completely unravelling. “I came all this way, and all I’ve done is sit here listenin’ to you complain about some arsehole I couldn’t give a shit about.”

“Well, maybe if you actually bothered to contribute to the conversation, I wouldn’t have to talk so much!” You stepped toward him, arms crossed tightly over your chest, eyes glaring into his. “And I didn’t ask you to come all this way just to mope around like you’re doing me some huge favour by being here.”

“I’m not moping. I’m just wonderin’ why the hell I even bother sometimes when I can’t even say one thing without you cuttin’ me off.”

“That’s not true.” you snapped. “You could’ve said something anytime.”

“I tried!” His voice was sharp now, the frustration fully breaking through. “But every time I open my mouth, you jump in with somethin’ else. You don’t want a conversation, you just want me to sit here and nod along like some fuckin’ idiot.”

You opened your mouth to argue, but the words caught in your throat, because a part of you knew he wasn’t entirely wrong. But admitting that now, in the heat of the moment, felt impossible. Instead, your anger flared up again, the defensiveness taking over.

“You’re exaggerating.” you shot back, your voice tight. “I let you talk.”

“Do you?” His voice dropped to a lower, dangerous tone, his eyes burning into yours. “When? ‘Cause all I remember is you ramblin’ on and on about somethin’ you’re mad about, and the second I try to talk, you either cut me off or go on another tangent. You never actually listen.”

You stared at him, your chest rising and falling quickly as your heart pounded in your ears. His words stung, but they also made you want to scream. 

“You’re such a fucking hypocrite.” you shot back, stepping even closer to him, your eyes blazing. “You never listen to me either! Every time I tell you something, you act like it’s beneath you or like you have better things to think about.”

“Maybe it’s because you’re always complaining about the same shit over and over again.” he snapped, his face inches from yours now. His voice was hard, cold, the frustration rolling off him in waves. “It’s the same story every time. Some bloke pisses you off, or some girl’s annoyin’, and I’m expected to sit here and listen like it’s the first time I’ve heard it.”

You felt your face heat up, and not just from anger. The way he said it, like your problems were trivial, made your blood boil. “Oh, I’m sorry that I have things in my life that aren’t perfect. Not all of us can be the lead singer of some band and have everything just work out.”

“That’s rich comin’ from you.” he sneered, his face tightening in anger. “You think everything’s so fuckin’ hard for you.”

The room seemed to freeze in place, the air between you thick and electric. Neither of you moved, both staring the other down, waiting for someone to make the next move.

“I’ve been workin’ my arse off for this band, and all I ever get from you is complaints about how I’m never around, or how I don’t care enough, but you don’t even try to understand it. You don’t get it.” His voice was raw now, cracking with the weight of it all. His hands clenched into fists, knuckles white.

“Well maybe if you actually talked to me instead of making everything about the band, I’d understand!” you shouted, your chest heaving with the effort to get the words out. “But you don’t! You shut me out and act like I’m supposed to just sit here waiting for you to decide you want to share something.”

He took a step back, sitting back on the bed, running both hands through his hair, gripping at it in frustration. “Because there’s no point talkin’ to you when you never listen. You prove that every fuckin’ time.”

“Oh, fuck off!” you shouted, eyes burning. “You think I don’t listen? You think I don’t try? You’re the one who shuts down anytime I try to have a real conversation with you.”

You both stared each other down like you were two seconds away from combusting. Alex’s chest was heaving, his face flushed with anger, his eyes sharp and dark with frustration. He wasn’t backing down, and neither were you. 

“Just- just shut the fuck up!” Alex finally snapped, his voice louder than you’d ever heard it, raw and biting. He swung his legs off the bed, standing up abruptly. He yanked off his jacket with an angry pull, the zipper catching slightly before he tore it off entirely. The jacket hit the floor in a heap, and he started pacing, his hands running through his hair again, tugging at the strands like he was trying to pull himself together.

“You can’t just tell me to shut up!” you fired back, stepping toward him. “I have every right to say what I’m feeling, especially since you’ve clearly been tuning me out this whole time!”

He stopped pacing for a second, glaring at you. ”Oh, yeah? Maybe if you didn’t go on about the same bloody thing every fucking time, I wouldn’t have to ‘tune you out’!”

“Don’t act like you’re some victim here!” you snapped. “You’re the one who’s been cold and distant, just lying there.”

“Cold and distant?” he spat back, his eyes narrowing, his pacing more agitated now. “For fuck’s sake, I came all the way over here to see you, and all I get is you ranting on about Evan.”

“You came here, but what’s the point if you’re not even here mentally?” you shot back. “You’re just here.”

“God, shut up!” He stopped dead in his tracks, whipping around to face you. His voice was low and dangerous now, like he was on the verge of losing it. His hands clenched into fists at his sides. “Just shut up for one minute!”

“No.” you spat. “I’m not going to shut up just because you can’t handle a real conversation.”

“God, you’re impossible!” He stormed over to you, closing the distance in two angry strides, his breath hot and ragged as he grabbed your face in his hands. His grip was firm, his fingers pressing against your cheeks, and before you could react, his lips crashed into yours, hard, heated, and urgent.

You gasped against his mouth, the fight draining from you in an instant as your brain short-circuited. The kiss felt almost punishing, his lips moving against yours with a fervour that left you no room to argue. For a second, you didn’t even know how to respond, your hands hanging uselessly by your sides, your heart racing like you’d been thrown into something you hadn’t expected at all. But then, instinct kicked in, and you kissed him back, hard, your fingers tangling into his hair, pulling him closer despite yourself.

Just as suddenly as it began, he pulled away, breathing heavily, his hands dropping from your face as he took a step back. You were left standing there, eyes wide and lips parted, your mind struggling to catch up to what had just happened.

Alex stared at you, his hands on his hips, his chest still heaving, a wild look in his eyes like he was barely holding on. “Finally…” he muttered, more to himself than to you.

Your brow furrowed as you tried to make sense of everything. “Finally what?”

“Finally, some fucking quiet.” he said, exasperation dripping from every word. His voice was quieter now, but the edge of anger hadn’t entirely left. He ran a hand through his hair, eyes flicking up to meet yours as if daring you to argue with him.

The shock was starting to wear off, and the heat of the argument began to creep back into your chest. “Quiet? Quiet? That’s what you wanted?” you demanded, incredulous. “You think kissing me is going to shut me up?”

“Seemed to work, didn’t it?” He raised a brow, a smug smirk pulling at the corner of his lips, even though his eyes were still stormy.

Your face burned with indignation, and you took a step forward, poking a finger into his chest. “You think you can just kiss me to stop me from talking? You’re unbelievable, Alex!”

“And you never know when to stop talking,” he shot back, the smirk fading, his expression turning heated again. “you go on and on and never give anyone a chance to get a fuckin’ word in.”

“That’s because you never say anything worth listening to!” you spat, your voice rising again as the bickering started all over.

“Oh, for fuck’s sake.” he groaned, exasperated. He yanked his t-shirt over his head in one swift motion, throwing it somewhere behind him. The sight of his bare chest, the muscles in his arms flexing as he tossed the shirt, caught you off guard, but you had no time to react before he was on you again. His hands grabbed your waist, and in one swift move, he pushed you down onto the bed.

“Alex-” you started, but before you could get another word out, his lips were on yours again, silencing you with another kiss. He hovered over you, one knee pressing into the mattress beside your hip, his hands framing your face as he kissed you deeper, harder. 

You tried to push him back, to protest, but your body betrayed you as your hands gripped his arms, pulling him closer even as your mind screamed at you to keep fighting. His body was warm and solid above yours, and the heat between you both was overwhelming. The cold air in the room was completely forgotten as his lips moved against yours, the weight of him pinning you to the mattress.

He pulled back just enough to look down at you, his breath ragged, his hair falling messily into his eyes. “I can shut you up.” he whispered against your lips as he stared into your eyes.

You opened your mouth to say something, anything, but he kissed you again before you could speak, his body pressing down against yours, keeping you firmly beneath him. Every inch of you was buzzing with frustration, and the way his kiss was relentless, like he was determined to prove his point. His hands moved from your face down to your waist, fingers digging into you as he ground his body against yours. 

“You’re unbelievable.” you gasped between kisses. 

His lips curled into a smirk against your mouth. “Maybe I just know how to get what I want.” he murmured. 

Just then, he shifted his weight, and his hands slid under your tank top, pushing it up slightly as his fingers grazed your skin. He pulled back just enough to look down at you. “You have no idea how long I've wanted to do this.” He yanked your top down, exposing your skin to the cool air, the sudden chill contrasting sharply with the heat of his body hovering over you. “While you were busy talking about…fucking Evan.” He cupped your boob, fingers roughly squeezing as he kept your mouth occupied with his tongue. 

You responded in kind, your hands moving to his back, fingers curling into the waistband of his jeans. In a moment of reckless abandon, you pushed your hand down into his pants, fingers curling into the firm curve of his ass over his boxers. The movement drew a low moan from him, which vibrated against your lips, and you couldn’t help but smile against his as you felt him respond. 

“God, you’re driving me insane.” he breathed, pulling away slightly. “Do you have any condoms left?”

“No.” you managed to say. 

“Okay.” he said, the corner of his mouth quirking up in a smirk. “Then we either risk it, or you blow me.”

You narrowed your eyes at him, half in disbelief and half in amusement. “Is that really how you want to play this?”

“Just offering options here.” he shrugged, a grin creeping back onto his face, his bravado almost infuriating. “But if you’re not into either, I guess we just keep arguing.”

“Alex!” you protested, but even as you said it, your pulse quickened. 

He leaned closer, brushing his lips against yours. “What’s it gonna be? I’d rather not wait around if you want to keep arguing.” 

You bit your lip, torn between irritation and an undeniable pull toward him. “You really think you can just get me to do whatever you want?”

He leaned in, his breath hot against your ear as he whispered, “I think I can convince you.” 

Every protest you had slowly melted away as you surrendered to the heat building between you, knowing you were both playing a dangerous game, but it was a game you were willing to continue, at least for now.

You pulled back slightly, catching his gaze. “You really want to risk it, huh?” 

Alex paused, his brow raised in challenge. “What can I say? I like living dangerously.” He shifted back, propping himself up on his elbows, clearly enjoying the power dynamics at play.

You leaned closer, a smile creeping onto your lips as you began to unbutton his jeans. The sound of the zipper made your heart race. There was an intensity in his gaze as you slid your hands into his jeans, feeling the warmth of his skin beneath your fingertips. 

His breath hitched slightly as you pushed the denim down, exposing more of his legs. He looked up at you, his expression a mixture of anticipation and amusement, revelling in the thrill of the moment. “You’re feeling bold.” he remarked, a smirk playing on his lips.

“I’ve always been bold.” you shot back, your confidence surging as you pushed his jeans down further, letting them pool around his ankles for him to kick off.

He laid back against the pillows, the fabric soft against his skin, and you could see the flicker of excitement in his eyes as he watched you. “What are you going to do now?” he challenged. 

You smirked, your fingers tracing slow, deliberate lines along his thighs, barely brushing against the hem of his boxers. “Just enjoying the view.” 

His muscles tensed under your touch and he shifted slightly, his breath hitching when your fingers grazed the sensitive skin just above his waistband. “That all you're going to do?” he asked, his tone almost taunting, but you could hear the underlying impatience.

You leaned forward, your lips hovering just above his stomach. “Maybe.” You could feel the way his body reacted to the proximity, every slight twitch, every subtle intake of breath. “Unless you're in a hurry for something.”

His hands fisted the sheets as you dragged your fingers along his waist, tracing maddeningly slow circles on his hipbones. His jaw clenched as he exhaled sharply, trying to maintain control. “You’re enjoying this way too much.”

You glanced up at him through your lashes, your lips brushing the edge of his boxers, dangerously close but not quite enough. His eyes were locked on you. “You love it.” you whispered, leaning down to press a soft kiss to the spot just below his navel. 

He let out a low, frustrated groan, his hips shifting slightly. “You’re really going to make me wait?” he asked. 

Your fingers trailed lower, teasingly slipping beneath the waistband for just a second before retreating, leaving him wanting more. His breath hitched again, and you could see the way his chest rose and fell, quicker now. 

“You’re torturing me.” he muttered, but there was a glint in his eyes that told you he was enjoying every second of it.

“Just a little.” you replied with a grin, your lips brushing over his skin again, leaving a trail of feather-light kisses down his torso. 

“Don’t tease too much.” he murmured. 

You paused, looking up at him. “Teasing is half the fun, don’t you think?”

Alex let out a frustrated laugh, but the spark in his gaze was undeniable. “Nah, not now.”

“Just wait.” you said as you leaned in closer again. You hooked your fingers into the waistband of his boxers and pulled them down, exposing him fully. His body tensed as the cool air hit his skin, but his eyes stayed locked on yours, expectant.

You could feel his impatience as you let your tongue flicker out, just the tip brushing against him in the lightest of touches. His hips twitched slightly, a frustrated sound escaping his throat. You smirked, continuing to tease, your mouth barely making contact, just enough to drive him crazy.

He growled low in his throat, his hand coming to the back of your head, fingers threading through your hair with a firm grip. “Come on…” he muttered. “Don't play around. Suck it properly.”

The arrogance in his voice made you pause, lifting your head just slightly to meet his eyes. “So demanding.” you murmured, lips hovering above him. His jaw clenched, and you could see the way he fought for control, his fingers tightening in your hair.

He pushed his hips forward, trying to guide himself deeper into your mouth, but you held firm, teasing him with slow, lazy licks along his length. “I said,” he repeated, his voice dropping an octave as he pressed his hips toward you again, “suck it. You know how to. Come on, baby.”

“Patience.” you whispered, pressing a soft kiss to his tip before pulling away again, the smug look on his face wavering for just a second as you denied him the satisfaction of going further. 

His hand tightened in your hair, pulling slightly, his breath coming out in short, frustrated bursts. “Come on…” he grunted, but beneath it, there was an edge of frustration. His need for control was palpable, and the way you were pushing him to the edge without giving him what he wanted was clearly getting under his skin.

You gave him a look, your lips barely brushing against him again, not giving in yet. “What if I wanna take my time?” you asked, knowing how much it would push his buttons.

He let out a low, exasperated groan, his head falling back against the pillows as he tried to thrust into your mouth, but you pulled back just in time, leaving your mouth empty and him wanting. “For fuck’s sake.” he muttered, “Stop messing around and put that pretty mouth to work.”

His hand moved more firmly in your hair, trying to guide you back down, his cockiness only thinly veiling the desperation you could see in his eyes. But you weren’t going to give him the satisfaction just yet. You let your tongue trace slow, lazy circles around him, every now and then taking him just barely into your mouth before pulling away again. 

“You’re such a fucking tease.” he growled, his hips jerking upward again full of exasperation. “You’re pissing me off again.” 

Before you could retort, he flipped you over with surprising strength, pinning you beneath him. You gasped, caught off guard, and he wasted no time yanking your pants down, exposing your skin to the cool air. He pushed your top up, revealing your chest to him fully. 

“Alex-” you started, but he silenced you with a kiss, moving his lips down your body. He kissed his way down until he reached the waistband of your panties. 

He pressed a soft kiss against your covered cunt before pulling them to the side. You felt exposed and vulnerable, but there was an excitement coursing through you as he hovered over you, his presence overwhelming. 

Then, without warning, he plunged two fingers inside, the sudden fullness making you gasp. Your back arched instinctively, the sensation electric as he moved his fingers with confidence, finding that spot that made you shiver.

“Oh, no words now, eh?” he teased, a smirk on his lips as he watched your reaction. His fingers worked expertly, and the room filled with the sounds of your breaths and the rustle of the sheets beneath you.

You tried to gather your thoughts, to form some kind of response to his taunting words, but every time you opened your mouth, a moan escaped instead. Each time you tried to speak, another sound slipped free, your body betraying you.

“Come on.” he murmured, his lips ghosting against your ear. “Just enjoy it.”

As his fingers continued to thrust inside you, the slick sound filling the room, you felt him shift above you. His hips pressed down, and you realised with a start that he was rubbing his cock against your upper thigh, the hard length of him sliding against your skin. The friction was maddening, and you could feel the slickness building there, his arousal mingling with the sweat on your body. 

“Feel that?” he whispered as he rocked his hips, pressing himself harder against your thigh with each thrust of his fingers. You could feel just how desperate he was becoming. Yet still, he kept control, refusing to let go. 

You whimpered, your hips bucking. You could feel the heat pooling low in your stomach, spreading through your limbs. “Look at you…” he taunted, his breath hot against your neck as he ground himself harder against you. “You can’t even handle it, can you?”

You moaned in response, your body tightening around his fingers as he continued his assault. Every time his hips thrust forward, his cock slid against your slick skin. The sounds he made, low, throaty grunts of satisfaction, only heightened everything. 

The smugness in his eyes was unmistakable as he watched you squirm beneath him, his fingers never faltering in their rhythm. “See?” he said, his voice dripping with arrogance as he rocked his hips again, the head of his cock brushing dangerously close to where his fingers were buried inside you. “This isn’t so hard, is it?”

You managed to catch your breath enough to respond, “You think this is easy for me? You’re driving me insane…”

He chuckled and picked up the pace, pushing you closer to the edge. “Good. I want you to feel it. You’ve been talking nonstop, so let’s see if I can make you speechless.”

You rolled your eyes, even as your body betrayed you, responding eagerly to every movement. “Like you could actually silence me.” 

“Oh, I think I can manage that.” he replied. 

“Is that a challenge?” you asked, half-laughing, half-breathless.

“Perhaps.” he said, his fingers curling just right. “But right now, I’m focused on you. You know you love it.”

“You’re really insufferable.” you managed to say between gasps.

“Only when I’m around you.” he shot back. “Seriously though, how’s it feel? You like this?”

“It’s-” You struggled to find the words as the intensity grew. “It’s good, Al. Just- don’t stop.”

“Good.” he said, his voice low and sultry. “I want you to remember this the next time you think about annoying me.”

You gasped, your back arching off the bed as he pushed deeper, his fingers curling just right, hitting that spot inside you that made your vision blur. You were teetering on the edge, every thrust of his hips against your thigh, every curl of his fingers, sending you spiralling closer and closer to release.

He watched you with that same amused glint in his eyes, completely in control of your body, of the situation. He knew exactly what he was doing, how to keep you on the edge without letting you fall over it. “You want it, don’t you?” he whispered, his voice smug and teasing as his cock slid against you again, his slick arousal mixing with yours. “You can’t hold out much longer.”

You could feel it, the way your body trembled beneath him, the way your breaths came in shallow, ragged gasps. “God, Alex, if you don’t stop talking, I swear-” you started, but your words trailed off as he increased the pressure, his fingers hitting that sweet spot again.

“Swear what?” he challenged, looking down at you. “You gonna tell me to shut up?”

“Maybe.” you gasped, the tension building to a breaking point.

“Not likely.” he grinned. “Let’s see how long you can last before you really can’t say anything.”

You couldn’t help but smile at his persistence. It was a dance of wills, a push and pull that left you craving more. His smirk was softer now, fading into something more focused, more intimate.

“Come on.” Alex murmured, voice rough but coaxing. His breath was hot against your neck, and his fingers curled in just the right way. “I can feel it. Just let go.”

You didn’t need much convincing. Your body was already giving in. You gasped as the pressure inside you built, your voice dropping into breathy moans you couldn’t suppress. You tried to hold back, remembering just how thin the dorm walls were, but it was impossible. 

“Alex, I’m-” You couldn’t even finish your sentence,, your body jerking in his grip as finished around his fingers, leaving you breathless, boneless, and trembling beneath him. 

He slowed his movements just enough to draw it out, making sure every last bit of pleasure wracked through you before he finally stopped. “Good girl.” he whispered, lips grazing your jawline, pride in his voice as if your release was as much his victory as yours. “Knew you’d let me make you come.”

Your chest rose and fell in heavy pants, your mind still spinning from the sensations coursing through your body. You gazed up at him, a smirk tugging at your lips despite the heat still thrumming under your skin. “You’re too smug for your own good.”

“Sure.” he replied, pulling back just enough to look down at you, his grin unmistakably cocky once again. There was a playful glint in his eyes, the arrogance almost dripping from him as he leaned in close. “Pretend you’re not a fan.” His lips brushed yours softly at first, the kiss tender and brief, before he pulled away just enough to murmur, “Now, it’s my turn.”

Before you could fully recover, he shifted, settling between your legs. You felt the tip of his cock brush against your still-sensitive skin, making you squirm beneath him. His movements were almost shaky now, the restraint in his body barely held together. His breathing was uneven, and there was a subtle tremor in his muscles that told you how close he already was. “You ready for me?” 

“I think I can manage.” you replied, trying to maintain your composure despite the way your body still trembled from the aftershocks of your own orgasm. 

He pushed into you at that. The sudden fullness made you gasp, your fingers immediately digging into his shoulders as your body arched beneath him. He felt impossibly good, the sensation of him stretching you, filling you completely overwhelming your already sensitive body. 

“Fuck.” he groaned, his forehead dropping against yours as his body shuddered with the effort to keep moving. “You feel so good. I’m not gonna last long like this.”

You could hear the strain in his voice, and as his forehead pressed against yours, you brushed a hand up, your fingers running lightly through the damp strands of his hair. His skin was flushed, and when you pulled back just enough to see his face, it was written all over him. He was barely holding on. You laughed softly at his admission, your thumb brushing along his temple as you took in the sight of him. “Already?” you teased, though your own breath came in quick, shallow gasps. “You were just talking all that big game…”

He groaned again, this time with a note of frustration, his hips picking up a faster rhythm as he thrust deeper into you. His movements were erratic now, and the way his brow furrowed told you he was fighting to hold on. “Shut up, please.” he muttered, voice strained, the bravado slipping further. 

“Please?” you echoed, your grin widening as you ran your fingers lightly over his forehead. His eyes squeezed shut for a moment, and you could see the way his face contorted with pleasure, his muscles twitching as the sensations overwhelmed him. “You must really be-”

“Shut up.” he interrupted, his voice breaking as his control slipped entirely. His thrusts became more desperate, his body moving without thought now, his hips snapping forward with increasing urgency. His brow was furrowed deeply, and his jaw clenched as he gasped for breath. “I’m serious, I’m- fuck-”

His eyes flickered open for a moment, meeting yours, and then, just as he hit that point of no return, he pulled out, his hands fumbling as he gripped his cock. He stroked himself quickly. You watched, breathless. He hovered over you, his face twisted in pleasure, his mouth falling open as he let out a rough, broken groan.

He came hard, his body tensing above you as hot streaks of his release spilled across your stomach. His eyes fluttered shut, and for a brief moment, his expression was pure, unfiltered ecstasy. His lips parted, and your name slipped past them in a hoarse whisper torn from his throat. His body trembled as the last of it spilled from his cock, every part of him laid bare.

For a few long moments, he stayed there, body shivering with the aftershocks of his orgasm, his head bowed as he gasped for air. 

“Fucking hell.” he muttered as he collapsed next to you, his hand resting lightly on your hip. He turned his head, chest still heaving, and looked at you with a grin that was both satisfied and exhausted.

You couldn’t help but chuckle, wiping a bit of sweat from your forehead. “That was quick.”

“I warned you.” he shot back, still catching his breath. 

His usual attitude was back, but his voice was softer now, like that vulnerability hadn’t fully faded, lingering in the small, cramped room. The space seemed even smaller now, with both of you sprawled across the tiny twin bed.

“Can you scoot over?” Alex groaned after a minute. “I’m about to fall off your tiny bed.”

You laughed, nudging him with your elbow. “Maybe if you didn’t take up so much space…”

“It’s not my fault your bed’s designed for hobbits.” he quipped, but he still shifted, giving you a bit more room instead. 

The room was warm, the sheets sticky beneath you, and everything felt overheated and suffocating. But in the best possible way.

“God, we’re so sweaty.” you muttered, shifting uncomfortably. “And everything’s…sticky.”

“Yeah, no kidding.” he replied, running a hand through his damp hair, which was sticking up in every direction. “But it was worth it.”

You smiled, biting back a laugh. “You say that now, but just wait until you have to do the walk of shame down the hall covered in sweat and…other things.”

He shot you a look. “I’m not walking anywhere until I get some sleep. I’m spent.” 

“You can’t just crash here.” you pointed out, though you weren’t exactly opposed to the idea. “What if my roommate comes back?”

He glanced at the door, then back at you. “Then we’ll just have to be quiet.” He waggled his eyebrows playfully, though his body was already sinking deeper into the mattress, clearly exhausted. 

You shook your head, amused. “You’re insufferable.”

“I know,” he mumbled, “and you still love me.”

As the quiet settled over the room, the warmth of your post-coital haze was interrupted by a familiar, teasing touch. You felt Alex shift beside you, his fingers brushing lightly against your stomach where his cum still lingered, sticky and now cool.

He glanced at you with a lazy grin as he wiped the mess away with his fingers, then, without a second thought, wiped it down on the corner of the already tangled sheets.

“Gross, Alex.” you groaned, wrinkling your nose in mock disgust.

He raised an eyebrow, the grin never leaving his face. “What? You wanted me to leave it there?” His tone was so casual, so matter-of-fact, it made you laugh despite yourself.

“You could’ve, I don’t know, used a towel or something.” though you knew full well there wasn’t one within reach. Not in this tiny dorm, not with the haphazard way things were usually thrown around in the space you had to share.

He shrugged, unfazed. “Eh, too far.” Then, his expression softened, his teasing dropping away for a moment as he shifted closer, wrapping an arm around your waist. “I just wanna hug you and not get it all over me.”

You rolled your eyes at his excuse, but a smile tugged at your lips anyway. “Fine.” you sighed, your voice betraying your amusement.

“Fine.” he echoed, his tone matching yours, though his grip tightened slightly as he pulled you in closer. His chest pressed against your back, his warmth seeping into you as you nestled into the curve of his body, your legs tangling together under the sheets. 

“You’re such a mess.” you mumbled, not entirely sure whether you were talking about the situation or him in general.

“Yeah…but you love me.” he replied, his breath warm against the back of your neck, echoing his earlier words with the same easy confidence that made it impossible to argue with him. 

You smiled into the pillow, too comfortable and too content to offer a snarky retort. Instead, you let yourself relax into his embrace, the steady rise and fall of his chest against your back a gentle reminder of the closeness between you. The room was quiet, except for the faint hum of the dorm heater kicking in despite not doing anything more than just filling the space with a soft hum that made you even more drowsy.

“You tired?” Alex asked after a while.

“A little.” you admitted, your body still humming with the aftershocks of everything that had just happened. 

“Grand.” he murmured, his fingers drumming a random pattern on your hip. “Means I did my job.”

You let out a soft laugh, shaking your head slightly. “Always so proud of yourself.”

“Just callin’ it like I see it.” he said, a smile evident in his voice. He pressed a light kiss to your shoulder, his lips lingering there for a moment before he spoke again, softer this time. “But seriously…you okay?”

“Yeah.” you said, turning your head just enough to glance back at him. “I’m fine, Al.”

He gave you a small, satisfied nod, as if your answer was all he needed to hear. “Good.” he said, his fingers brushing a stray strand of hair from your face. “Just making sure.” 

“You’re still gross, though.” you murmured sleepily, half-asleep already. 

He chuckled, the sound vibrating through his chest and into your back. “Yeah, well, I love ya.”

a/n: hope it’s decent, idk, based on this request

tags: @st7rnioioss @theonlyoneswhoknowsblog @rentsturner @yourstartreatment @avxoxo1 @jqsvi @turnersfav @youresodarkbabe @psychedelicrocker @aacheinthejaw @zayndrider @humbuginmybones @tedioepica

[andbreakmynose]

he won't go away

he's haunting you. am al.

WARNINGS: p-in-v, he's possessive and a bit mean, feelings, references to drugs/drinking, technically cheating but not really

WORD COUNT: 4.2k

Being a young woman in the 21st century had to be torture. You thought the breakup would be the hardest part; moving all your stuff out of the shared apartment was incredibly sad; sometimes you still got sad when you saw his shirts in your closet. But it turns out the hardest part is actually trying to get back out there. The apps of hell.

It was practically impossible to find someone who matched your standards. Alex, your ex, was so perfect in (almost) every way that everyone else paled in comparison. Seriously, how were you supposed to fall back in love when your last boyfriend was a global phenomenon rockstar?

He was almost everywhere you looked, practically inescapable. Every shop you went into was selling his newest record or playing one of their songs. His face was in every magazine at every store. The month you spent traveling in the states didn’t even help; Arctic Monkeys had finally crossed over, and he was big there too.

The worst part of it was that even when you scrolled Tinder to move on, you’d see him. Someone would have them as his favorite band; they’d have a lyric in their bio; they’d be wearing merchandise; or you’d check their Instagram to see concert photos. It was a frustrating cycle of constant reminders that he didn’t want you anymore.

That’s what he said—that he couldn’t stand to be in a relationship with you anymore. That he was moving on to “bigger and better things,” and you weren’t a part of that. You had sensed it was coming; he had started to become cockier; he was drinking and smoking more, and you even thought he might be taking something stronger. You didn’t blame him though; he was on top of the world, and you were just his hometown girlfriend who worked a 9-5.

You didn’t mean to keep up with him, but you read the headlines: ‘Arctic Monkeys Announces Massive UK Tour’, ‘Arctic Monkeys Sells Out Madison Square Garden’, ‘Arctic Monkeys To Headline Reading and Leeds.”

Those were tolerable; you knew he’d be big. The ones that bothered you were the personal ones. ‘Alex Turner Seen Wasted After Big Night Out’, ‘Alex Turner Seen With Another Mystery Blonde’. That was frustrating. You envied him in a sense; he didn’t have to worry about seeing your name anywhere. He was able to move on as quickly as possible and never look back. He had all the money, all the girls, and everything he could ever need at his disposal.

It was obvious you had become bitter; your best friend had remarked that you ‘just hadn’t been yourself’ since the breakup and “needed to get laid soon” or you’d “become a criminal case.” Maybe she was right, and that's what put you on the apps. You wanted to find a nice, normal man, someone who wasn’t performing at the Olympics.

The guys were nice for the most part. You had seen a few cute ones and had a few good conversations. There was even a date once! He was a nice guy from the north side of town who worked at a bank. The dinner you had with him was good, but the chemistry just wasn’t there.

For every match there were at least 50 strikeouts, but you were hopeful about this current guy. His name was Rob. Rob was tall and had pretty blue eyes and worked a well-paying job in finance. He liked nature and Oasis and had two dogs. He was the type of normalcy you craved. He asked you on a date, and of course you said yes; maybe you’d finally move on.

-

The two of you decided on one of your favorite pubs on a Saturday. And when Saturday came along, you pushed your nerves to the side and tried to look as presentable as possible. You felt a bit guilty about wearing a dress that Alex bought you, but you had to wear it at some point. You cover yourself in perfume and slip on your finest lace lingerie, just for the confidence. Today is supposed to be the day you become the new you.

Rob was already there when you arrived; he wore a nice outfit and looks good, but you’re not immediately head over heels. Maybe this would take time; that was fine. He gestured to the open bar stool next to him and the pint waiting for you. You smiled and walked over to him.

“Hey! Thanks for... this.” You pointed your head towards the pint and took a seat next to him.

“It’s nice to finally meet you,” he smiled at you, giving your body a once-over. “You’re even more beautiful in person.”

His compliment doesn’t fluster you as much as it should, but you still smiled and thanked him, attaching your lips to the glass and taking a drink.

The conversation was easy; he told you about what it’s like to work in finance, and you told him what it’s like in your occupation. He showed you pictures of his three dogs whose names you could not remember, and you showed him pictures from your trip to Italy last year, neglecting to add the piece of information that you went with Alex.

Things seemed to be going really well; your bar stool had ended up closer to his, and his hand brushed across your knee a few times. Maybe the night would end well and you’d get to go home with him; you hadn’t been fucked since Alex and your vibrator weren’t doing the job anymore. In fact, it was going so well that you were about to ask about a second date when his head perked up and his eyes darted to a corner.

“Holy shit! Is that the guy from Arctic Monkeys?”

Your first thought was that somehow he knew that he was fucking with you and wanted to get you upset. But then you noticed the genuine surprise and shock in his face—a lump forming in your throat. Maybe he got his people confused?

The split second glance you turned in Alex’s direction is all you needed to know it was him. He was carrying himself the same way he had been, and you could almost hear the boom of his voice from the other side of the pub. Christ. Your stomach suddenly felt like you could throw up any second.

“I think it is.” Your voice was barely above a mutter, but Rob heard it all, his face perking up even more.

“That’s so cool! I saw them last time they came here!”

You nodded and said you saw them too. You didn’t tell him that you also saw them in London and Paris and New York and Tokyo, and that he dedicated a song to you on your birthday at a show in New Jersey. It felt like years of memories were flooding back, but you just had to repress that.

It seemed that Rob wasn’t that big of a fan because he quickly diverted his attention back to you and started talking about some hike he took a few months ago. You’re sure it was lovely, but your mind couldn’t really focus on anything but the man who hadn’t even noticed your presence. You kept nodding and attached your lips to your drink.

After a bit of one-sided conversation, Rob patted you on the back and excused himself to the restroom. He leaves you alone. Alone with Alex, only half a room away. You ordered a second drink to try and distract yourself, but that’s no help.

You swear you hear your name come from his lips, echoing in your eyes in an almost painful way. It’s just a hallucination; you’re just remembering stuff. That’s what you tell yourself.

“Her? Yeah, she was my bitch ex. Too uptight for me, if you know what I mean.” His voice booms through the room, like he’s purposely saying it as loud as possible because he knows you’ll hear. Fuck.

You couldn’t help it; you had to check. When you turn your head to the side to see him again, his dark eyes are staring right into you, that cocky smirk he adopted in the last months of your relationship present on his face. He caught you.

You didn’t recognize the guys he was with; they were probably figures from his new life. You also didn’t recognize the blonde girl he conveniently had his hand on the ass of. You couldn’t tell rather to be flustered or pissed that his attention was on you and not whoever she was. He still stared directly into your soul; something between anxiety and sorrow filled you up.

Rob returned after a minute, snapping you out of your trance and pulling your attention back onto him. Right, your date. You smiled and tried to focus on his face—his face that was nowhere near as attractive as Alex’s.

“So, what was it you were saying about hiking in Ireland?” It was a copout, but it was safe; he was more than happy to talk about himself. He went on and on about the cows and the grass and his sister Emily.

Every few minutes you’d hear Alex say something else. Something about the ‘pretty lady standing next to him’ or the ‘total fucking bender’ he went on last week. Was he trying to rile you up? Get a reaction? Well yeah, it worked. You could feel your blood start to boil while you drank more and more.

That caught up; after maybe your third drink you had to pee, really bad. You stood up and apologized to Rob before excusing yourself in the ladies room. Your head was starting to spin, and it would be lying to say you weren’t overwhelmed. You did your business and took a second to breathe.

You opened the door to head back to your date that was going very well. Thank you. The door creaked open and then shut just as instantly, your back against the door and your body back in the bathroom. Him.

He wasn’t a big man by any means, but his presence took up the entire room; it made you feel small. Alex was staring down at you, and it was hard to tell if he was really bored or really turned on.

“We need to talk.” Is all that he uttered? His voice was surprisingly monotone for him.

“In the ladies room at a pub?”

He nods.

“I have a date. He’ll get worried.” You crossed your arms, trying to hold your ground even though all you wanted to do was fold.

“Yeah. That’s why we need to talk.” He backed away from the door and leaned against the wall, very obviously checking himself out in the mirror. He ran a hand through his quiff and turned back to you with a scoff. “I don’t like him. He’s a twat.”

You scoff back, “Yeah? Well, last time I checked, you didn’t like me either.” Alex winces at this.

“I never said that,” he corrected you, his face slightly less smug. “I said I wanted to explore. Try new things. Spend the rest of my tour living like a real rockstar.” He pauses for dramatic effect, staring you up and down. “But I’m over that, baby; I want you back. I want to be us again. Please.”

You couldn’t tell if he was drunk or not; he probably was. He was probably drunk and didn’t know what he was saying. But goddamnit, these last months of pain came back, and you couldn’t help but feel for him. You wanted him back too.

“What about your new life? The fucking benders. All your new friends out there... the new girl you were fondling earlier.” You needed to stay strong; you couldn’t cave like that. You made sure that all your mockery and frustration with him for the last months came out in your voice.

He sighed again, his hand returning to his quiff. You couldn’t tell if he was that obsessed with himself that he wanted to perfect it constantly or if it was a nervous habit.

“What about your new life? Chad from finance is telling you about the stock market and his university days.”

“Rob, actually. And he’s very nice. Nicer than you’ve been this past year.” An eye roll.

Alex guffawed at this, nodding his head in a way that reminded you of a movie greaser.

“And yet you still want me more than him, don’t you? You want me again just as bad as I want you.”

Well, he wasn’t wrong. Maybe it was the alcohol, but yeah, you were getting hot and bothered. The rockstar act was obnoxious, but it was also sexy as hell.

“I can’t just leave. Rob’s a nice guy; I don’t want to destroy him.” Even if you were about to throw yourself at your ex, you still had enough morals to think about Rob.

Alex hummed and thought for a second; he wasn’t going to let you just run away from him. He needed you to come back home.

“Go up to him and say ya got your period or something. You need to go home and take care of it. You’re a smart girl; figure it out.” Condescension laced his voice. He brought his hand up and ran it across your arm just to watch the goosebumps it elicited. “See, you want this. Come home with me.”

You couldn’t fight it anymore and nodded. You were weak for him; he was your weakness. He was perfect, and you couldn’t go without feeling him again.

“I’ll meet you out front,” the smirk reappeared on his face, and he gently guided you out of the bathroom with his hand on your ass. He went right towards the exit and left you to go right towards Rob.

“Hey Rob. I’m sorry it took me forever. I have some lady problems going on, and I need to run home and grab a pad. I’ll text you about a second date, yeah?” You smiled at him but gave him no time to respond before you were out the front door and Alex was wrapping his big hands around your back. You had a long night ahead.

He kept his hand on your shoulder the entire way home; no words fell from his mouth. There was this feeling he was giving you, like he was disappointed beyond words even though he was the one that ended things.

The drive to his place was painstakingly familiar. You had done this very same trip back and forth more times than you could count. One of your first dates had been him taking you here and then kissing you while the band played a Stone Roses song; maybe you had fucked with fate by returning to the same location.

You felt a sharp pain searing through your heart when you saw the brick exterior of his flat. That was your home. Your home for two years that you had been shut out of only within the last 5 months. And you were back.

He made a whistling noise followed by a click, as if you were a dog. You’re embarrassed in the way you immediately folded, hopping out of the car and walking up the familiar stairs to the front door. His keys opened it up, and you took a step inside, the sight of it all flooding your senses.

The flat was redecorated, but it was still yours; there was your old sofa in the corner, the painting you bought with him at the market, and his collection of leather boots sat at the door. The smell was also different; it was no longer you and Alex. It was just Alex. Musky cologne and cigarette smoke replaced what was once the smell of your baking and your combined scents.

Alex watched you take in the sight; a humorless chuckle left his lips. He’d be lying if he said he didn’t feel the same pain; he missed you more than he wanted to admit. His eyes flicked back over to your body, scanning you in. Fuck, that dress.

“Why are you wearing my dress?” It was basically a bark, an accusation. All pain he felt was met with anger. You were wearing something he bought you to see another man.

“It’s not your dress. It’s mine.” Playing dumb never worked with Alex, so you were unsure why you did it. Maybe it was a defense mechanism that led to your relationship's downfall.

“Don’t be a bitch. I bought that dress with my money for my eyes to see you in it. It’s my dress.” His voice was harsher now; the frustration of months without you and the alcohol clouded his head.

“I thought it made me look pretty. And until an hour ago, you wanted nothing to do with me. I figured game was game.” There’s a truth to your words, but it still elicited a deep scoff from the back of his throat. He took a step towards you.

“Does make you look pretty. You’ve always been the prettiest baby.” You started to take this as him softening in a way; he was complimenting you instead of getting mad again. But then he took another step forward and, in one swift motion, pulled the dress over the top of your head, leaving you exposed in your lace bra and panty set. A deep blush covered your face, and a groan left his mouth.

“Fuck. You’re killing me, baby.” His hands started to travel up and down your body, making your body shiver when he ran by your chest and hips. “You expected him to take you back home? You wanted him to fuck you and make you forget all about me?”

“I tried,” but before you could even begin to explain the complexity of emotions running through your brain, he threw you over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes. It was simultaneously the most degrading, humiliating, and hot thing you’d ever experienced.

He brought you over to the bed, your old shared bed, and threw you down on it, looking down at you with lust-blown eyes.

“I tried. I really tried. But I just can’t fucking get over you. Been looking for you everywhere, hoping to make you mine again.” The confession made your heart stop, but not for long until his hands started to remove your bra. All the heat and tension of the moment made your panties start to feel wetter, and your nipples perked up. Alex licked his lips.

“You were looking for me?” You tried to manage your cool and not give in too easily. You hadn’t been fucked in so long, but he was supposed to be your ex; he kicked you out, and now he’s begging for you back.

“You were looking for me too. Don’t lie.” He said it like he knew it was a truth, even if you hadn’t admitted it yet. His hands slipped off your underwear and slipped it in his pocket. “You’re not wearing these for someone else again.”

After seeing how you bit your lip to hide a moan, he smirked and ran two long fingers through your folds. Nothing could compare to his touch; you had tried so many different vibrators, and yet you hadn’t felt pleasure like this since the last time he touched you. A small whimper escaped your lips, and thats when he knew he won. You were his again.

He started to circle his fingers around your entrance, brushing against your clit a few times before entering you. The first moan of the night escaped your lips, and he gave a knowing nod and chuckle. His free hand worked to dispose of his leather jacket and then started to work at the buttons of his shirt.

“I’ll fuck you if you say you’re mine again. If you promise to come back to me. Be my baby again. Me and you.” He rasped, voice pooling with desire, dominance, and genuine affection. It was an odd combination, but so was Alex. It all made you miss him more. He bent his fingers inside of you and started to move them faster.

“SHIT! Yeah. Yeah. I’ll be yours again. Please Alex.” You felt pathetic at how easy you gave in, but the sight of the bulge pressing against his jeans was enough to show that you weren’t the only one desperate. And it was nice to know he wanted you back for more than just a fuck.

“Atta girl.” He smirked and then removed his hand from inside of you, bringing it to his lips to taste the distinct and vaguely sour-sweet juices from you. The sight was pornographic, and while you whined at the lack of contact, you moaned at the sight. “Missed your taste,” he added before he used his hands to slip his jeans and boxers off in one solid motion.

And there you were, back to old times. Two naked figures in a shared bedroom. Most of your nights pre-breakup were spent fucking until you both passed out. You were sure tonight would be no different.

He pushed you back on the bed slightly, angling his own body so his throbbing would line up with your leaking cunt. The sight made you salivate; he was big, and the head was turning red in desperation. It was like his cock missed you just as much as the rest of him.

He leaned down to meet your lips in a searing kiss, not even bothering to ask you for permission to slip his tongue in your mouth. He let this dance go on for a bit, the kiss becoming sloppier and teeth starting to collide. He let you get totally preoccupied in the kiss before he shoved himself inside of you with no real warning, his entire length puncturing your hole.

You were definitely tighter than last time you two fucked, the result of the absence of him. He smiled at that; it felt better than it ever had, and it was a confirmation you were really holding yourself back for him.

“Tight baby. Thank you for not sharing my pussy with everyone else.” He chuckled a bit at his own words, as if they were funny, before he decided you had had enough time to adjust to his stretch and began to move.

Just as he did, the moans began to fall from your mouth, the pleasure beginning to build up in ways you forgot were possible. Every movement stretched your tight warmth out more and more, filling you up with such deliciousness that you couldn’t help but cry a stream of ‘Alex!”.

His breath started to become a bit shallower, and he reached out to palm at your tits while he thrust. It was like a teenager seeing them for the first time, but he had missed them so much. His fingers pinched at your nipples, his cock hit every nerve entrance in your vagina, and his mouth returned to yours to envelope you in a passionate fire. Every part of you felt hot, and every part of him felt hot. Just how it was supposed to be.

A pace was set after a minute; he was fast and hard because he needed this and he knew you did too. You knew he wouldn’t last too long out of the sheer intensity and desperation of it all.

As his grunts became louder and his movements faster, you brought your hand down to circle around your clit, the little movements causing a full-body shiver to run down and a stream of obscenities leaving your mouth. He grinned at this but didn’t move your hand; he’d usually help you out, but he was too preoccupied with your perfect tits. Every sense of yours was activated, and on full sensitivity, it was just too hot. Your vibrators couldn’t compare to him, and he realized then that your pussy had ruined every other girl for him. He spent months seeking pleasure, but you’re the only one he wanted.

It was the hottest feeling in the world when you felt his dick begin to twitch inside of you; the addition of this made everything just the hotter. You sped your hand movements up and your back arched slightly, your mouth falling open and your eyes turning white. You two were both close.

It was a sudden snap of the coil inside your stomach that had you cumming, practically exploding in bliss. It was an orgasm to an extreme you hadn’t had in a while, maybe since even before the breakup.

The feeling of you cumming just turned Alex on more, and he was soon to follow after, making one final thrust before he pulled out and covered your stomach in warm lines of milky cum. He stared at it for a second, finding it the most beautiful sight in the world, before collapsing next to you, catching his breath.

The two of you layed like that for a while, chests returning to normal speeds and minds trying to process what just happened. His cum was still on your stomach, but all you could think about was how you had just crossed a line you were never supposed to cross with an ex. As if he could sense this, he lifted his head up and wiped the cum off your stomach with his shirt from the floor. It was laundry day tomorrow anyway.

“That was... incredible. I missed you, baby.” He said, and his voice returned to a softness you only remembered from your most intimate moments.

“I missed you too.” You giggled a bit at his choice of cleaning material but smiled at his words, moving your body a little closer to his when he laid down again.

“Good. I want you to be my girl again.

“I want to be your girl again. We’ll figure this out in the morning, I guess.” You were both too fucked out to make logical, rational decisions.

“Yeah. We’ll get through this. I won’t be a twat again. I promise.” And then he pressed a gentle kiss on your forehead, almost like a silent promise that he wouldn’t. At the moment you trusted him, but maybe it was just the sex lingering in your brain. At that moment, what you knew was that the man you had loved for years was back next to you, and Rob from finance was someone you’d never have to worry about again.

A/N: this is shit again but i felt like putting something out. currently in the process of applying to transfer universities so i'm pretty out of time.

[argumentativantitheticaldream]

𝐈 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐲 𝐜𝐚𝐧'𝐭 𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐲

ੈ✩₊christmas at your old family home˚˚୨୧⋆

Warnings: age-gap, smut and handjob

Word Count: 7.2k

Under the twinkling string lights that were somehow still aglow, the path to my old holiday home glistened with an incandescent glow, blanketed in a thick layer of freshly fallen snow. Towering evergreens flanked either side, their boughs sagging under the weight of frost, as though bowing in reverence to the season’s magic. I stopped to stare at the shimmering colors that reflected off the frosty ground, their soft hues painted the snow beautifully.

The air was crisp, biting at my cheeks, but it carried that unmistakable scent of pine and woodsmoke, a fragrance that wrapped around me like a scarf. Every crunch of my boots felt louder than it should, the sound sharp in the stillness. Yet it’s a sound I could remember clearer now, as though the years had rolled back in an instant.

The house appeared suddenly through the trees, as though it’d been waiting for my presence. Its roof was heavy with snow, the gables edged with glinting icicles. The front windows glistened softly, the warm light inside spilling onto the porch, onto the wreath hanging on the door. The red ribbon was a little frayed and the plastic firs had started to discolour but it was that same wreath from all those years ago.

Every step I took over the frost-laden ground seemed as though I was splitting the peace this house had sat in for years. I could almost hear the hum of voices from years ago, how my mother would call us in from the cold, the sound of wrapping paper tearing and the crackle of the fire. For a moment, I wasn’t stood at an abandoned house but I was outside of a home bustling with people. Laughter seemed to echo faintly, ghostly yet comforting, woven into the fabric of this place. I recalled snowball fights in the front yard, the smell of cinnamon wafting from the kitchen, and the way the world always seemed simpler here. The memories are almost tangible, pressed against me like a familiar embrace.

The path, though dusted with snow, felt alive like an artery that led straight to the heart of my childhood, pulsing with the energy of holidays past. As I reached the porch, I hesitated, letting the moment linger. It felt as though the house had been waiting for me, timeless and tender.

I hesitated for a moment on the porch, my hand hovering over the doorknob. It felt almost sacred, standing here again, as though stepping inside might disturb the memories still lingering in the air. But the soft glow of the lights through the frosted windows and the faint hum of something–music?, drew me forward.

As the door creaked open, the familiar scent hit me first: pine, woodsmoke, and something faintly spiced, like mulled wine or cinnamon. The warmth of the room wrapped around me instantly, chasing away the chill clinging to my coat. I stepped inside, and there he was, my dad's best friend, Alex, standing near the fireplace, his broad shoulders backlit by the dancing flames.

He looked the same as I remembered, though a few fine lines had etched themselves around his eyes and mouth, giving him a rugged, almost weathered charm. His brown hair, still thick, caught the light, glinting with strands of silver that hadn’t been there before. And his eyes—deep and warm, the kind of brown that reminded me of autumn woods met mine, sparking with recognition and something unspoken.

“Look at you,” he said, his voice a low rumble, full of surprise and affection. “It’s been… what? Seven years?”

I managed a shy smile, brushing the snowflakes from my hair as I stepped fully into the room. “Eight,” I corrected softly, my voice small in the cozy expanse of the living room. The contrast between us struck me in that moment; he, tall and steady, every bit the grown man I’d remembered, and me, barely twenty and still finding my place in the world. I was sweet, I suppose, in the way people describe someone who hasn’t yet been hardened by life. Though we shared the same brown hair and eyes, he carried the weight of experience, and mine the soft light of youth.

Alex chuckled, running a hand through his hair as if trying to shake off the years. “You’re not a kid anymore.”

I shrugged out of my coat, suddenly self-conscious under his gaze, though it was anything but unkind. “And you haven’t changed a bit,” I said, though it wasn’t entirely true. He’d grown older, yes, but there was something deeper there, an enduring warmth, a steadiness that felt grounding that I hadn't noticed until now.

“Come on,” he said, stepping forward and reaching for my coat. “Let’s get you warmed up. You must be freezing out there.”

As he moved past me, his presence filled the space, familiar and comforting in a way that made the house feel even more alive. It was like stepping back in time, but with a strange, bittersweet edge because though nothing had truly changed, I had. I rubbed my hands together, trying to shake the chill from my fingers, even though the warmth of the room was already sinking into me. Alex motioned for me to sit by the fire, but I hesitated, still standing awkwardly in the center of the living room.

“I didn’t… I didn’t mean to show up while you were here,” I blurted, my voice tumbling out faster than I intended. “I just-” I gestured vaguely toward the door, my cheeks flushing under his steady gaze. “I wanted to visit the house. I didn’t know anyone would be here.”

Alex tilted his head slightly, his expression softening. “Why would you think no one would be here? It’s Christmas. Of course someone’s here.”

I shrugged, biting my lip. “I don’t know… I thought maybe it’d just be empty. Like it used to be when we’d come up for the holidays, you know? I guess I just wanted to…” I trailed off, searching for the right words not finding them until he’d interrupted.

His eyes softened, the corners of his mouth twitching into a small, understanding smile. “To remember,” he muttered, as though the words carried weight for him.

“I didn’t mean to intrude,” I added suddenly. “I didn’t even know if the place would still look the same.” I hesitated, my eyes darting to the wreath on the door, the glow of the lights, the crackling fire.

Alex stepped closer, his voice gentle but firm. “You’re not intruding, sweetheart. It’s as much yours as it is mine.”

The warmth in his words caught me off guard, and I found myself swallowing hard against the sudden lump in my throat. For a moment, I just stood there, staring at him, unsure of what to say.

He broke the silence, his voice lightening with a hint of a teasing edge. “Besides, if anyone’s intruding, it’s probably me. I just came up here to get away for a few days, clear my head. Didn’t expect to have company.”

I laughed softly, the sound awkward but genuine. “I guess that makes two of us.”

Alex smiled, his gaze lingering on me for a beat longer before he nodded toward the couch. “Well, since we’re both here, I might as well make the best of it. Sit down. Warm up. I’ll make some tea—unless you’re still a hot chocolate kind of girl?”

I felt my face flush again, this time with a warmth that had nothing to do with the fire. “Hot chocolate sounds perfect,” I admitted quietly, and he nodded, disappearing into the kitchen.

As I sat down on the worn couch, the memories seemed to wrap around me like an old quilt. I let my eyes wander over the room: the familiar beams of the ceiling, the photographs still on the mantel, the faint hum of Christmas music crackling from a vintage radio in the corner. This place hadn’t forgotten me, not even after all these years.

The kitchen was steeped in a quiet kind of warmth, the kind that wrapped itself around you and refused to let go. The air smelled of chocolate, rich and sweet, mingling faintly with the scent of aged wood and the faint musk of a house that had seen generations pass through its doors. I cradled the chipped mug in my hands, its warmth soothing my cold fingers. The faded floral pattern on its surface seemed to whisper of the past, of hands long gone that had held it just as I did now.

Across from me, Alex sat in the weathered stool that shifted under his weight. He held his mug close, letting the steam rise and curl around his face like an ephemeral veil.

“You’d have caught your death if you stayed out in that snow any longer, love,” he said, his voice quiet but filled with an easy familiarity. His eyes scanned the room, lingering on the crooked bookshelf, the worn rug, the faded curtains that swayed slightly in the draft from the window, I assumed he was avoiding my intrusive gaze.

I took a sip from my mug. The chocolate was thick and velvety, the perfect kind of sweet. It spread warmth through my chest, a feeling that wasn’t entirely from the drink.

For a while, we talked about everything and nothing, our voices mingling with the sound of the wind outside. The house seemed to breathe with us, its wooden bones creaking softly in response. I watched Alex’s hands as they wrapped around his mug, his fingers strong yet gentle, his nails short and clean. The way his thumb traced absent circles along the edge of the ceramic seemed almost hypnotic.

As I reached for my mug again, our hands brushed. Just a whisper of skin against skin, but it was enough to make the moment still. His fingers were warm, rougher than I’d expected, but gentle in a way that sent a ripple of something unspoken through me.

He glanced up, his eyes meeting mine for a fleeting second. “Sorry,” he murmured, though his hand didn’t move right away.

“It’s fine,” I said softly, my voice barely above a whisper. The words felt heavier than they should have, carrying a weight I couldn’t quite name.

For a moment, the room seemed to hold its breath. The fire crackled faintly in the corner, but everything else faded into the stillness between us. Then Alex pulled his hand away, his lips curving into a sheepish grin.

“Careful,” he said lightly, breaking the tension as he raised his mug again. “Wouldn’t want to spill and ruin your mother’s precious mugs.”

I smiled, though my heart was still beating faster than it should. “She’d never let me live it down.”

He laughed softly, the sound filling the room, but the echo of that brief touch lingered, quietly reshaping the space between us.

The fire crackled softly, its warmth seeping into the room and wrapping around us like a heavy quilt. I stretched out on the sofa, my legs tucked under me, while he sat at the other end, one arm resting along the backrest, the other draped casually over his lap. His presence filled the room effortlessly, a quiet confidence that seemed to settle into the old wooden beams and faded upholstery.

The bows on the back of my boots caught his eye as I shifted slightly, the ribbons brushing against the sofa cushions. Without saying a word, he leaned forward, his fingers brushing the edge of the soft fabric.

“These are… sweet,” he said, his voice low, almost amused, as he hooked a finger around one of the loops and tugged gently.

I glanced over at him, catching the playful smile that tugged at the corner of his mouth. “Sweet?” I repeated, raising an eyebrow.

He nodded, his hand still toying with the ribbon, the firelight catching the roughness of his knuckles. “Yeah. Like something a little girl would wear. But they suit you.”

I scoffed, though I could feel the heat rising to my cheeks. “You know, some people find them charming.”

“Oh, I’m sure,” he said, his voice teasing but soft. He tugged at the bow again, looser this time, like he was testing the strength of the knot. His fingers lingered there, warm and deliberate, as though the act of untying it was more interesting than it should have been.

“Alex,” I warned, trying to sound light, though the closeness of his hand sent a shiver through me. “tying those bows took ages.”

His grin widened. “That so? Guess I’d better not ruin your handiwork, then.”

For a moment, neither of us moved. His fingers hovered over the ribbon, brushing lightly against the fabric, and I could feel every quiet pull of the room between us. His eyes flicked up to meet mine, the playful smile fading just slightly, replaced by something softer, quieter.

“I didn’t think you’d still wear things like this,” he said, almost to himself.

I shrugged, my voice a little more hesitant now. “I guess some things don’t change.”

“Not everything has to,” he murmured, letting the ribbon slip from his fingers before leaning back again, the firelight catching the thoughtful curve of his smile.

The ribbon fluttered back into place as he leaned into the sofa, his arm brushing the backrest as though claiming the space between us without thought. I adjusted slightly, the blanket slipping from my shoulders to pool at my waist, though the fire’s heat was enough to keep the chill at bay.

He tilted his head to look at me, his gaze steady but warm. “Houses like this… they take on the weight of the people who leave them behind. It’s why I never stayed in one place long enough to feel that.” his tone shifted back to something firmer, though it still held that quiet intimacy that he seemed to demand.

I looked at him, his words hanging in the air. There was a quiet honesty in what he said, a crack in the carefully composed presence he always carried. “That’s not true, though,” I said, leaning forward slightly. “You come back to people, don’t you? That’s what this is, isn’t it?”

He glanced at me then, the corner of his mouth twitching like he wanted to smile but couldn’t quite let it through. “Touché,” he said, and for a moment, the tension eased, a soft laugh settling between us.

I leaned back again, letting the sofa creak beneath me. “I guess this place will always feel like home,” I said, turning my gaze to the fire. “Even if it’s not the same anymore.”

I felt his hand then, resting on the back of the sofa, just inches from my shoulder. It wasn’t intentional, not exactly, but I was suddenly aware of how little space there was between us. My breath caught slightly, though I tried to hide it, shifting to tuck my legs beneath me again.

The blanket slipped further, and without thinking, he reached out to adjust it, his fingers brushing against my arm. The touch was light, but it sent a ripple through me, one I knew he must have noticed.

The silence between us wasn’t uncomfortable, it was thick, heavy with all the words we weren’t saying. The fire crackled softly, the warmth of it pressing against my skin, but it was his presence that made my chest tighten.

“Funny, isn’t it?” he said finally, breaking the quiet. His voice was low, his gaze still fixed on the fire. “How some moments feel bigger than they should. Like this one. Sitting here with you.”

I swallowed, my throat suddenly dry. “Yeah,” I said, barely managing the word. “Funny.”

He turned to me then, his expression unreadable but his eyes searching mine, as though waiting for me to say something else or maybe as though he wanted to speak but couldn’t quite find the words.

I hesitated, my eyes dropping to the ribbon he’d let fall loose on my boot. “Everything feels so different when you’re not a kid anymore. The way the house creaks, the way the fire sounds, it’s all the same, but it doesn’t feel the same.”

He nodded, leaning back just slightly, his arm still draped across the back of the sofa. “That’s growing up, I guess. You start to realize the world’s not as big as it felt when you were younger. The edges get sharper. Things feel… closer.”

His words hung in the air, heavy with meaning, and I wasn’t sure if he was talking about the house or us.

I glanced at him, his face illuminated by the firelight. There was something in the way he looked at me, something quiet and unspoken, as though he was trying to puzzle out the thoughts I couldn’t bring myself to say.

“Closer, huh?” I said, forcing a smile to keep my voice steady. “That’s one way to put it.”

His eyes flicked to mine, catching the faintest hint of mischief. “You have another way?”

I felt the corners of my mouth tug upward despite myself. “Maybe. But I’m not sure you’d like it.”

“Oh, I don’t know,” he said, shifting slightly closer, just enough for me to feel the weight of his presence. “I’m pretty open-minded.”

The words were light, teasing even, but the way he looked at me softened their edge. I bit my lip, unsure whether the warmth in my chest was from the fire or from him.

“Don’t test me,” I said, feigning a warning tone, though I couldn’t keep the smile from my voice.

“Wouldn’t dream of it,” he replied, though his gaze lingered, betraying the lie.

The silence that followed felt thicker this time, not awkward but charged, as though the room itself was holding its breath. I let my fingers trail along the edge of the blanket again, a nervous habit I couldn’t seem to shake.

“You’re quiet all of a sudden,” he said, his voice dipping lower, enough to make my pulse quicken.

I glanced at him, meeting his eyes only briefly before looking away. “Just thinking.”

“About?”

The word hung between us, an invitation I wasn’t sure how to answer. I hesitated, letting my gaze drop to the ribbon again, its soft edges now slightly undone.

“You’re doing it again,” he said, his voice tinged with amusement.

“Doing what?” I asked, though I knew exactly what he meant.

“Deflecting,” he said simply, reaching out to brush his fingers against the ribbon again. This time, he tugged it loose entirely, the bow unraveling beneath his touch.

“Alex!” I protested, sitting up straighter.

He smirked, holding up the ribbon as though it were a prize. “Relax. I’ll tie it back, better than it was before.”

I narrowed my eyes at him, though my heart betrayed me with its quickened beat. “You’d better. That bow took me ages.”

“Liar,” he said, leaning forward to take hold of the loose ends. His fingers worked deftly, surprisingly careful for hands that looked so strong.

I watched him, the firelight playing across his features, his brow furrowed slightly in concentration. “You’re awfully invested in this bow,” I said softly, my voice almost lost in the crackle of the fire.

He glanced up at me then, his fingers stilling for just a moment. “Maybe it’s not about the bow.”

The words hit me harder than they should have, the weight of them settling in my chest. I held his gaze, my breath catching as the charged silence returned, this time sharper, more defined.

“Then what is it about?” I asked, my voice barely above a whisper.

His eyes searched mine, and for a moment, I thought he might actually answer. But instead, he tied the ribbon neatly, his fingers brushing against the back of my boot as he leaned back with a quiet smile.

“Done,” he said softly, his tone lighter now, though his eyes still held something deeper. “Better than it was before.”

I stared at him, my chest tight with the weight of the moment. “What is it about, Alex?,” I said, though my voice wavered.

His smile deepened, his hand resting casually on the cushion between us. “Shh, darling, you’re disrupting the silence.”

The ribbon sat perfectly tied, a little neater than before, though I barely registered it. My focus was on him, on the easy way he leaned back, his arm still resting on the back of the sofa, his fingers so close they might as well have brushed my shoulder.

The firelight danced across his face, softening the sharp angles of his jaw, and for a moment, I wondered if he felt it too–the pull, the quiet gravity between us that seemed to grow stronger with every passing second.

“You’re staring,” he said, his voice breaking through my thoughts. His tone was light, teasing, but there was something behind it, something softer.

I blinked, caught off guard, and quickly glanced away. “No, I’m not.”

“You are,” he said with a quiet laugh, and I could hear the smile in his voice. “Should I be flattered?”

I scoffed, though my cheeks burned. “Maybe I was just admiring your handiwork.”

He raised an eyebrow, his smirk deepening. “The bow, huh?”

“Yes,” I said firmly, though the edge in my voice didn’t quite land. “It’s a very good bow.”

“Thanks, m’love” he said, leaning a little closer, the movement subtle but impossible to ignore. “I take pride in my work.”

The shift in the air was palpable. The teasing, the playful back-and-forth, it was still there, but now it felt like it was building toward something, like the words were just a way to stall whatever was about to happen next.

“I’ll have to keep that in mind,” I murmured, my voice quieter now, almost unsure.

I swallowed, my throat tight, and glanced back up at him. The firelight reflected in his eyes, warm and steady, and for a moment, I felt completely unmoored, like I was standing at the edge of something I couldn’t name.

His voice split the silence, holding a sincere air of honesty. “Christmas doesn’t feel the same now, when I’m not spending it here with your family. When I’m not with you,”

The silence that followed was almost unbearable, thick and heavy with words unsaid. I could feel my heart pounding, and I was sure he could hear it too, the sound impossibly loud in the quiet of the room.

“You shouldn’t say things like that,” I whispered finally, my voice barely audible.

“Why not?” he asked, his gaze unwavering.

“Because…” I hesitated, my breath catching as I searched for an answer. “Because it feels wrong.”

The corner of his mouth lifted, just slightly, but there was no humor in his expression. “Maybe it’s supposed to.”

His hand shifted then, moving from the back of the sofa to rest on the cushion between us. The movement was small, almost imperceptible, but it made my pulse race.

“Are you going to keep playing with that blanket,” he asked, his tone light again, though his eyes betrayed him, “or are you going to actually look at me?”

I froze, my fingers stilling on the fabric as I glanced up at him. His gaze was steady, unwavering, and for the first time, I realized how close he was, close enough that I could feel the warmth of him, even with the fire blazing in the corner.

“I’m looking,” I said softly, the words slipping out before I could stop them.

“Good,” he said, his voice barely above a whisper.

The room seemed to hold its breath, the fire’s crackle the only sound as his words settled between us. I couldn’t move, couldn’t think—all I could do was watch him, my heart pounding as though it was trying to tell me something I wasn’t ready to hear.

His calloused touch grazed the bows again, this time pulling my boots off with a gentleness that I’d not expected coming from him. He gently pulled at the hem of my sock and ushered me over with a slight nod of his head, his voice monotonous and sure. “Over here, darling.”

The space between us seemed to shrink with every heartbeat, the air heavier, charged with an electric tension that neither of us could ignore. I could feel the weight of his gaze, steady and warm, pulling me toward him. My breath caught as I shifted slightly, the blanket slipping from my shoulders entirely now, exposing the softness of the moment in its most raw form. I wasn’t sure what possessed me, but something in the stillness between us, in the way he looked at me, something told me to move.

Without thinking, I shifted closer, just a little at first, then a little more, until my legs brushed against his. His body shifted instinctively, creating space, but his eyes never left mine, the quiet invitation undeniable.

I settled in slowly, my knees grazing his, my hands resting lightly on his chest for balance, feeling the steady beat of his heart beneath my fingertips. The sudden proximity, the closeness of his warmth, made my pulse quicken. It was like everything I’d been trying to hide, every silent question, was suddenly laid bare.

There was no hesitation in his gaze, only a softness, a kind of understanding that made my heart race faster than before. And before I could second-guess myself, I shifted again, this time fully into his lap, my legs gently draped over his, my body pressed flush against his chest. The warmth between us was almost overwhelming, but it was a comfort too.

For a moment, neither of us spoke. The crackle of the fire filled the silence, and I could hear his steady breathing, feel the way his chest rose and fell beneath my fingertips. My hands rested against his collarbone, the steady rhythm of his pulse under my palm grounding me.

“You’re still quiet,” he murmured, his voice rougher now, like he was trying to keep his own composure. “What’s going on in that pretty head of yours?”

I leaned in just slightly, enough for my forehead to rest against his, the gentle heat of his skin against mine making everything else fade away. “Just… taking it all in,” I said softly, my voice barely above a whisper. “This moment. You.”

His hands moved then, slowly, carefully, like he was unsure of how much space to take up. One of his hands slid gently up my back, just grazing the skin beneath the hem of my sweater, the touch so light it made my breath catch.

“You feel so… real,” he said, his voice low, thick with meaning. “Like everything else is just noise, and you’re the only thing that's… real.”

I shivered slightly, the warmth of his words sinking into me, filling the space between us in ways I hadn’t expected. Slowly, carefully, I reached up, my fingers tracing the line of his jaw, the rough stubble beneath my fingertips grounding me in this strange, quiet moment.

“I feel it too,” I whispered, moving even closer, until I could feel the heat of his breath against my lips.

He didn’t pull away. Instead, his hand moved to cradle the back of my neck, his thumb brushing softly over my skin, and I closed the small distance between us.

The kiss was slow at first, tender, like we were both trying to navigate the weight of everything that was unspoken between us. His lips were warm, the taste of him familiar, yet new in a way that sent a flutter through my chest. As we deepened the kiss, I felt him pull me closer, the steady thrum of his heart syncing with mine.

When we finally pulled away, our foreheads still pressed together, I could feel the lingering warmth of him, the shared space between us now feeling like something undeniably real.

“Isn’t this wrong?” I said softly, my voice barely more than a breath.

“Do you think it is?” he whispered back, his fingers brushing through my hair, sending a shiver down my spine.

I shake my head.

I shifted, pressing in a little more, my hands finding their way to his chest, feeling the warmth radiating from him, the solid strength of his body beneath my touch. His hands shifted too, grazing the sides of my face before gently cupping my jaw, his thumb lightly brushing over my lips.

“Are you sure?” he asked, his voice a whisper, a tremor of uncertainty threading through it, as if he needed my affirmation before he let himself lean in further.

I nodded, a soft exhale escaping me, a breathless laugh at the back of my throat. “Certain,” I whispered. The words felt like an admission, like a truth I hadn’t known I was ready to speak until now.

Without another word, he closed the space between us again, his lips brushing mine once more. This time, the kiss was deeper, more insistent, as if we were both trying to capture something, to hold onto this fleeting connection before it slipped away. His hands slid down to my waist, pulling me in closer, until I could feel the length of him pressed against me, the warmth of his body completely surrounding me.

I didn’t pull away, didn’t hesitate. Instead, I shifted, moving so that I was straddling his lap, my hands curling around the back of his neck, pulling him even closer, as though we were two parts of something that had always been meant to fit together.

His breath hitched, and I could feel the heat rising between us, a soft tension hanging in the air as I traced my fingers along his jaw, feeling the roughness of his stubble beneath my fingertips. He shuddered slightly at the touch, his hands moving to my back again, the warmth of them seeping through my clothes.

“You feel so right here,” he murmured, his lips grazing the edge of my ear as he spoke. The words sent a shiver down my spine, and I pressed in closer, my hands tightening around his neck.

“I know,” I breathed, the sound of my voice a soft gasp against his skin. “I don’t want this to stop.”

His lips found mine again, this kiss more urgent, more frantic, as if we were both desperately trying to keep hold of something that felt too perfect to let go of. My body responded instinctively, moving closer, pressing into him, and I could feel the way his pulse raced under my fingers.

His hands slid up my back, the heat of them spreading through my sweater, and I gasped softly, my body arching toward him in response. The moment felt suspended, as though time itself was holding its breath, waiting for us to take the next step, to move even closer.

Alex’s voice was soft, his hands found my hips and gripped them just enough to keep me steady in his lap. He gently guided my hips over his lap and a pit of warmth settled in my lower stomach, a familiar feeling that echoed through my entire body. His erection pushed against me, straining against the thin polyester of his trousers and it left me aching.

I was already gasping, each subtle shift of his body causing his trousers to rub against mine, sending waves of burning pleasure through my every nerve. The friction, every tiny contact, was enough to leave me breathless, my pulse quickening with each passing second.

“Alex, please-” I murmured against his skin, my voice barely a whisper but heavy with the weight of what I longed for. I tried so hard to maintain some semblance of control, but the need was growing, the desire coiling inside of me. I could feel his warmth radiating through the fabric of my clothes, like his very touch was igniting a fire within me. My hands clutched at his shirt, my nails lightly digging into his skin as if grounding myself, trying not to let the rush of feelings overtake me.

A reassuring nod brushed against my hair, the weight of his breath warm and steady. Then, with deliberate slowness, his hands slid down my sides, the sensation sending a soft ripple through me, each movement more intentional than the last. My breath caught as he paused at my hips, his fingertips grazing the gold embellishments of his belt before he quickly unbuckled the strip of leather and let it falter to the ground. I felt my chest tighten, and the world around us seemed to fade, leaving only the two of us in this fragile moment of suspended tension.

His hands moved lower, steady, calculated, as if he was savoring every inch of my skin he could touch. I could barely catch my breath, each moment feeling like an eternity, his body an undeniable magnet pulling me closer. My pulse raced as he leaned down, his lips brushing the shell of my ear. “Lift your hip, love.” His voice was muffled against my skin as he left kisses down my jaw but I still complied, lifting my hips from his lap.

He didn't waste a second, tugging down his trousers and boxers simultaneously, needing to free himself from the pressure and then his hands found me. The tenderness of his touch juxtaposed the way he’s just handled himself, his rough fingers trailed up my skin and under my skirt, finding my panties. He held my hips firmly and pushed up against me, his tip brushing the material of my underwear. It was achingly pleasurable and a reluctant whine spilled from my lips.

He was relentless as he spread his precum over the fabric and rubbed the lace over my clit only using his length. I bit down on my lip and his eyes caught mine. A wicked grin found his mouth and he nodded knowingly, slowly slidiing two fingers down from my navel to my clit, then pushing the fabric aside, spreading the wetness around which echoed through the confined space of the living room.

“So wet for me, love.” His voice was husky and drawled as if his sentence was one big word.

My thighs had started to tremble and his unwavering teasing had become overstimulating. “Alex,” I pleaded.

His face flashed with recognition and he gently rested his hardness against my entrance. “Relax, hm?” Alex muttered roughly. He used his hands that were secured with a white-knuckle grip on my hips to guide me onto him. He filled me perfectly but the initial stretch sent a gasp from my lips into the air, splitting the heavy silence.

“Perfect” He groaned through gritted teeth as he started to rock his hips deeper, slowly moving them back and forth. I could feel him as he twitched inside me, each brush of his tip against my walls coaxed a wanting sound from my lips. His grip tightened on my hips pulling me down onto him to meet every thrust, he pushed deeper, brushing my sweet spot that sent a harsh jolt of heat through me.

“Alex,” His name was all I could manage. It escaped me like a prayer, soft and trembling. He had this way of pushing me to the brink, only to pull back at the last second. His lips wandered down my neck, deliberate and unhurried, leaving heat in their wake. When his fingers skimmed the curve of my collarbone, I felt the weight of it, like I was something fragile, something sacred. There was no rush, no frantic need. Just him, savoring every second, and me, unraveling beneath his touch.

I felt it tightening within me, an unbearable tension that coiled deeper with every passing second. It was relentless, like a spring wound too tight, each movement, each touch pushing me closer to the edge of something I couldn’t name but desperately craved. My breaths turned shallow, my chest rising and falling in uneven rhythm as his hands gripped me with a mix of certainty and care, as if he knew exactly how far he could push me before I unraveled.

It wasn’t just the physicality of it, it was the way he seemed to draw out every fragment of my will, leaving me completely at his mercy. My fingers dug into his shoulders. The tension spiraled tighter, hotter, until it consumed me completely.

A sound escaped me, half gasp, half plea, as my body betrayed any composure I had tried to keep. My back arched, pressing into him as though I could fuse us together. I was trembling in his lap, every nerve in my body alight, shaking with a release so complete it left me raw and vulnerable. I couldn’t stop the ragged breaths that tore through me, couldn’t hold back the way my fingers clung to him, desperate and unsteady. I felt exposed, seen in a way that was both terrifying and exhilarating. And yet, in that moment, I didn’t care. All that mattered was him; his presence, his hands grounding me, and the way he pulled me back from the brink as if I was the only thing he’d ever held.

"Are you okay, darling?" His voice came low and rough, scraped raw with exertion, matching the labored rhythm of his breathing. I barely had the strength to nod, but I did, my limbs heavy and slow as if they were no longer mine. He shifted beneath me, his movements deliberate but unhurried, almost tender. His hands, warm and slightly calloused, slid to my waist, guiding me off him with a care that felt surprising in its quiet gentleness.

And then I saw it, the way his hand replaced me, confident and practiced, fingers curling around himself with an ease that spoke of habit. The tension in his jaw, the subtle twitch in the muscle near his temple, betrayed his focus. It was mesmerizing, almost hypnotic, the way his body moved in response to his own touch. I had never seen anyone so unguarded, so wholly caught in the grip of sensation.

I didn’t mean to stare, but I couldn’t look away. Something about it felt intimate in a way that surpassed words or actions, a glimpse into a vulnerability he didn’t bother to hide. His head tilted back, exposing the sharp line of his throat as his breathing quickened. The muscles in his abdomen tensed and released, his body arching slightly as if chasing something just out of reach.

When it came, the moment he unraveled, it was as though the air itself had been sucked out of the room. His breath hitched, his movements stilled for a heartbeat, and then he shuddered, the tension in him snapping like a coiled wire. He didn’t hide the sound he made, a raw, guttural exhale that felt more honest than anything he’d said tonight.

I watched him crumble, watched the way his chest rose and fell, his hand slackening as the last shreds of control bled away. He lay there, undone, as spent as I was, his eyes closed and his expression unreadable. A strange mix of awe and curiosity curled in my chest, like I’d just witnessed something private, something meant to stay hidden.

For a moment, neither of us spoke. The silence wasn’t awkward, but it wasn’t entirely comfortable either. It felt charged, like the room itself hadn’t quite settled. And then his lips quirked, the faintest hint of a smile tugging at the corner of his mouth.

“You always watch that closely?” he murmured, voice still rough but tinged with something lighter now, something almost teasing.

I blinked, caught off guard, my cheeks warming as I realized how openly I’d been staring. “Only when it’s worth watching,” I shot back, my voice steadier than I felt.

His smile deepened, a flash of teeth now, as though he’d been waiting for exactly that answer.

By the time we’d both showered and cleaned up, the heat between us had softened into something quieter, something that lingered in the space between words. The bathroom had been a quiet exchange of towels and knowing glances, his smirk a little too satisfied, my blush a little too obvious. We didn’t say much, but the unspoken understanding was enough.

Now, we were in the living room, the fire crackling low in the hearth, filling the room with a golden warmth that made the world outside feel a thousand miles away. The snow still whispered against the windows, but it felt less intrusive now, like a soft rhythm playing counterpoint to the calm that had settled over us.

He was already stretched out on the sofa when I joined him, fresh from the shower and wrapped in one of his pullovers. It smelled like him, clean, faintly woody, and grounding in a way I couldn’t quite name. He’d pulled a blanket over himself, leaving just enough space for me to slide in beside him.

“You took your time,” he said, his voice quieter now, softer, as though the stillness of the room demanded it.

I rolled my eyes, settling in beside him, the blanket shifting to cover us both. “Some of us like to be thorough.”

“Mm,” he hummed, wrapping an arm around my shoulders as I leaned into him. His body was warm, solid, and I felt his fingers absently trace circles against my upper arm. It wasn’t intentional, I don’t think, just a natural extension of the closeness between us now.

For a while, neither of us said anything. The fire popped and crackled, and the weight of the day began to pull at me, softening the edges of my thoughts. I felt his chest rise and fall beneath me, steady and rhythmic, like a metronome drawing me closer to sleep.

“You’re being quiet again,” he murmured, his lips close enough to my ear that I felt the words more than heard them.

“Just... tired,” I admitted. “But in a good way.”

“Good,” he said simply, and I felt his hand shift, threading his fingers lightly through mine where they rested against his chest.

It was the kind of moment I’d always thought should feel contrived. But now, with him, it felt effortless. Real. The weight of his arm around me, the heat of his body, the occasional scrape of his stubble against my temple, it all made me feel safe. Like I could let the world fade out entirely and just stay here.

His voice broke through the quiet, low and tinged with a softness I hadn’t heard before. “I like this,” he said.

I tilted my head to look up at him, his face illuminated by the flickering firelight. “What? Me being quiet for once?”

He huffed out a laugh, shaking his head. “No. You. Here. With me.”

For a moment, I didn’t know what to say. But then I didn’t need to. I shifted closer, tucking myself more securely against him, my face buried in the crook of his neck.

“I like it too,” I whispered, the words muffled but no less true.

His hand stilled against my arm, resting there like a promise. And as the fire burned low and the storm outside softened into a distant memory, I let my eyes drift shut, lulled by the steady beat of his heart beneath my ear.

a/n: Is it too early to post christmas stuff? Never! I wrote this rather late last night and fell asleep right before the end so if the last bit is quite rushed my sincerest apologies, I also think the start of the smutty part is quite arse because I didn't really know where it was going and then I kind of got into it. Also, I've forgotten if I've mentioned in the fic but Alex is meant to be your father's best friend and I can't remeber if I ever specified, it'd be really odd if I didn't. Anywho, hope you love it, enjoy!!! xxx

[captainwans]

SUCK IT AND SEE.

— ALEX TURNER

pairing: fwn!alex turner x fem!reader

summary: two people are stuck in an elevator. one can’t stand the other, and the other has a panic attack. talk about the perfect time to spill their feelings, right?

warning: vulgar language, mention of panic attack, neurotic reader, angst to fluff.

word count: 1,5k | ( picture not mine! )

note: the idea was from a prompt that i found on pinterest!

masterlist!

… ALEX FELT THE ELEVATOR SHAKE, making him tightly clutch on the metal pole with a deep grimace as the felt the elevator come to a sudden stop. He loudly cursed and brought his hand to push numerous of buttons on the panel. When that didn’t work he groaned and looked at the one person he loathed the most. “Great, now we’re stuck, thanks to you.”

[Y/N] whirled her head toward him, eyes wide. “What the fuck did I do? You were the one who assaulted the buttons.” She snapped back as she stood across from him. She felt her heart palpitate, the tight space making her breath hitch, which went unnoticed by the latter, who was too busy abusing the control help button.

Alex scoffed, his scowl deepening when the buttons didn’t work. He slammed his palm on the panel as small curses emitted from his lips. “If you keep doing that, we’re never going out.” He heard her spat, making him roll his eyes.

“Oh, please. Is there somewhere else you’re supposed to be?” He sneered, turning his head to look at her glaring daggers at him.

“Yes, anywhere away from you.” She chided, chest heaving as her stammering heart made her nausea worse. She hugged herself, avoiding eye contact and looked at the glass, watching the people below them. Her eyes darted across the mass trying to look for Jamie and Katie.

“Feeling’s mutual.” A pulse roared in her throat, making her turn her body away from him to prevent him from seeing her panicked state. Her skin prickled with a cold sweat as goosebumps formed into her skin making her close her eyes.

Alex was too caught up into his own frustration that he didn’t notice [Y/N] slowly crumble, being too occupied with the control panel as he held the help button for a few seconds. He cursed once again, his eyes leaving the panel before looking the glass and looking for any signs of their friends through the glass.

“Did you see them down there?” He asked her, eyes averting away from the people below them toward her. He narrowed his eyes at her back facing him and titled his head to the side.

She clutched her chest, fingers trembling as her voice got caught into her throat. She could only shake her head, a strangled whisper etching into her throat. Blood was rushing through her ears, feeling her heartbeat echoing inside her ears. She cleared her throat and blinked, “No.”

Alex’s face faltered, his expression turning soft. He sauntered toward her, his hand touching her shoulder. “[Y/N]?” He gently called, worry starting to prickle his chest.

She let out a strangled gasp, turning her body toward him. Tears welled inside her eyes, which she rapidly blinked and looked at him with a panicked look. “Is now a bad time to tell you that I’m claustrophobic?”

Alex’s eyes went wide, watching her knees buckling beneath her. He became frozen, not knowing what to do as he watched her skin lost all color. The young man watched her, once a bold and confident girl, was now vulnerable and fragile—like if he touched her she would break.

[Y/N]’s stifled gasps and shallow breaths turned into sobs, shoulders violently shaking as she broke down her walls. She found herself trapped into a corner, her arms tightly wrapped around herself not noticing Alex sitting crossed legged in front of her with a concerned expression.

     Each breath was a struggle for her, as if the panic had settled permanently in her lungs, squeezing the life out of her. Her hands slapped her chest vigorously, as though trying to stop her heart from escaping. She let out a whimper, burying her face with her hands.

     “I’m gonna die. I’m gonna die.” [Y/N] kept repeating, rocking herself back and forth.

“You’re not gonna die, love. Not under my watch.” Alex reassured, his tone getting softer as he brought his hands to her hands covering her face. He almost flinched at her cold hands as he brought them to his lap to warm her hands.

She felt his warm calloused hands rubbing her icy cold ones, making her hiccup as she looked at him. Her wide doe-eyes stared into his, causing a tremor of emotions sear through her.

[Y/N] bit her lip until it bleed, tasting the metallic crimson smearing with her lip gloss. She quickly turned away from him, her chest heaving and closed her eyes as she felt another wave of panic hit her.

She felt his hand rest on her cheek, turning her head to look at him. She still had her eyes squeezed shut, not wanting to look at his face. Some of her breathing regained back to normal, and she didn’t want to admit that Alex’s closure was the reason, not even to herself. She was still shaky and she felt his thumb run across her lip, making her open her eyes.

Alex wiped away the blood from her lip, his hand drifting to hold the side of her neck. “Hey, it’s okay. We’re gonna get out of here.” He promised her, using his other hand to brush away some hair from her damp forehead.

[Y/N]’s chin trembled like a child, his change of demeanor toward her making her feel conflicted. Tears slid down her glistening face and she sniffled with a nod, eyebrows furrowed as she looked at him. “Why do you hate me so much?” She managed to croaked out, sending a crack inside his heart at her question.

A tug at his heartstrings made him let out a breath he didn’t know was holding. He opened his mouth, but closed it, not knowing what to say. His chest prickled and he shook his head, eyes tinted with guilt. “I could never hate you, doll.”

[Y/N] felt his thumb removing some of her tears, his hand lingering longer on her cheek. She frowned, opening her mouth but he beat her to it, leaving her dumbfounded as she watched him say the words.

Alex felt blood rush through his cheeks and he rubbed the back of his neck with a sheepish look. “Guess it’s my way of showing you that I like you.” He admitted, pressing his lips together as he watched her in anticipation.

She became speechless, like a deer was being stuck in headlights as she process what was coming out from his mouth. She could only stare at him, breathing normally as her thoughts spiraled and ran a thousand miles per hour. I like you, kept repeating inside her head like a mantra.

Alex cursed, cringing internally and he cleared his throat. “Look, we can pretend that I never confessed if you—“ he stumbled over his words and she interrupted him with a downwards pout.

“What?! You can’t just take back your confession like that!” She interjected, eyes bulging from its sockets as she brought both of her hands on his shoulders.

Alex blinked, looking at her with a flustered look. “I—uh…you—“ he was interrupted again and heat washed over his face. “That’s such a coward move, Al. Especially when I feel the same way toward you.”

The pair looked at each other, both bewildered over the situation and their feelings as they processed the new information about them. A smile curved on Alex’s face, making her mirror his simper as they both burst out with laughter.

Soft giggles emitted from her lips, her shoulders shaking as she inched closer to rest her head against his chest. He felt his hands rubbing her back comfortably, his deep chuckles filling inside her ear drums.

Soon their laughter ceased as a comfortable silence erupted around the tight space. [Y/N] was still in his arms, feeling his hands rubbing circles around her skin as she listened to his heartbeat, making her forget that they were stuck in an elevator.

The sound of banging on the elevator door made the pair snap their head toward the metal door, Alex’s grip on her tightening. “[Y/N]? Alex, are you okay in there?” They heard Jamie’s muffled voice through the door and the pair sighed in relief.

“Yeah, we’re fine, mate!” He yelled, his grip on her loosening. He stood up from his feet and walked toward the door.

The door made a noise, making [Y/N] grimace as she covered her ears. She watched Alex stepping away from the door, the metal door slowly opening.

The door opened, revealing Jamie and a few security guards holding the door. Alex’s bandmate stepped forward, eyes worried as he looked back and forth between the pair. “Thank god, I thought you guys killed each other.” He breathed, making Alex roll his eyes.

Alex walked toward her, bringing his hands out to hoist her up to her feet. She grabbed both of his hands as she stood up, hands intertwined and walking out of the elevator.

Jamie paused, looking at the pair through his sunglasses. He took off his glasses and gave them a look. “Am I hallucinating, or are you guys holding hands?” He asked, eyes narrowed and walking beside Alex.

Alex pushed him out of the way, earning a loud cackle from the latter. “I can’t believe my eyes. Katie, come and see this! They’re holding hands.” He yelled out to his girlfriend making the pair give him a look.

“Shut up, Jamie!”

[elementaryhallelujahs]

ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ fingers dimming the lights

mdni, 18+ only

the home office is bathed in warm, ambient light—it always is at this time of the night, familiar and soothing, exactly like the figure sat at the desk, hunched over her laptop. alex knows her work schedule is erratic, she works with people all over the world like he does, different time zones and different countries, and not that she’s a slave to her laptop but she does work a tad too much if you ask him. 

still, he lets her be and stays in the corner of the room, flicking through his book. he lets her be that is, until he sees her rubbing her eyes tiredly and stifle another yawn. she reaches for the mug next to her, brings it to her lips, and frowns. it’s empty. 

then she stretches like a cat—back arched, arms elongated—before curling into herself. that, evidently, does it for him. 

silently, he sets the book aside and walks up behind her. she barely even notices until his hands are on her shoulders, feeling the knots in her muscles, trying to massage the tension away. 

“you’re tired,” alex tuts and feels her shrug. “come to bed. it’s almost ten.”

she snorts lightly. “you know i can’t for another two hours at least, besides, i’ll be free tomorrow. then i’m all yours.”

“you’re already all mine,” he teases and kneads the knots again. (he does make a mental note though, to get her a proper warm bath tomorrow; bubbles and salts and candles and all.)

“come on, love,” alex tries again but she only hums a bit. and then she turns to him with a full pout. 

“i wish, babe. but i’ve got to have a very grown-up, professional zoom call while trying to hide the fact that i’m wearing pyjama bottoms. two more hours, i promise.”

and just like that she’s back to facing her laptop, back to clacking away on the keyboard, making that soothing sound of her nails against it that he loves so much. right now, alex bends down and kisses her neck gently. 

“when does your call start?”

“umm, eleven…”

the suspicion in her voice makes him grin and then he places a few more kisses down her neck and on her shoulders. 

“could relax you a little till then,” he murmurs, “put you in a better mood.”

she tilts her head up to him and laughs. “what’s got you in a mood, sweet boy?”

the moniker makes him smile wider. his fingers continue tracing soothing patterns, and his lips leave gentle kisses on the nape of her neck. 

“just need you to take a short break, ’s all. your laptop won't run away, baby, the the call is still an hour away.”

the next time alex looks at her, there’s a mischievous glint in her eyes. that, and the way she subtly bites her lower lip… and alex knows he’s won her over 

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

the first thing he does is lay her down on the bed, then he dims the lights until their bedroom is just as cosy as her workspace—all warm and golden. 

the anticipation of it has definitely gotten to her. alex can almost see her trembling on the bed, back slightly arched, her nipples peaking out from her thin t-shirt, hair an effortless mess. the sight of her sends his neurons into overdrive and he feels the familiar tingling as all his blood rushes south.

“let me take care of you, darling,” he whispers, “just relax for me…”

his words effect her immediately, make her toes curl and her mouth part almost as if she’s anticipating the gasp that he will draw out of her. 

“there’s my sweet girl,” he trails a hand over her leg—starting from her ankle and up her calf and then up her thigh until his fingers are at her hip. the knot of her pyjama shorts is next. 

all he has to do is give it a light tug before he’s sliding it off her legs. she helps by lifting up her hips, then eagerly shimmies out of her underwear. 

“look at you now,” alex teases. then he leans down, his lips dangerously close to her stomach. "come on, baby," he purrs, “spread your legs for me.”

something like a whimper and a moan echoes around the room and alex drags a finger through her slit, lazily collecting the wetness, coaxing her and spreading her open while his mouth presses kisses all over. her lower stomach first, then her thighs. meanwhile, his thumb finds her clit and a jolt goes through her body. 

“fuck fuck fuck alex…” she moans out loud and a thrill goes down his spine. 

fuck, here he is—tasting her and touching her and making her feel this way. his girl, she is his girl. and oh he’s never been one to be primal and possessive but all he can think about at the moment is that she is his. 

she is his and he is hers. 

and he loves her. 

he loves her so fucking much.

she gasps when he sucks on her clit, letting his teeth graze it gently every once in a while. her thighs tremble under his hands, her muscles shifts and alex doesn’t stop her at all when she squeezes her thighs together—the pressure on his head is delicious and spine-tingling anyway. it’s heady and intoxicating, just like her scent, her taste. 

“oh god, al,” she moans loudly. “fuck, just like that…” her fingers tangle in his hair, tugging and pulling while she squirms under his touch, grinds herself against his face and alex takes it all.

his tongue laps at her folds, his nose pushing against her clit and her screams are like music to his ears. better than anything he’s ever heard. better than anything he’s ever created.

his cock throbs desperately, twitching and hard, dying to feel her clenching around his now, to feel her squeezing him until his vision goes white and he fills her up. he can practically see the image in front of his eyes—his cum dripping out of her, making a mess on her thighs. mess that he could clean up with his tongue or with his fingers and push all of it back inside her. fill her up completely. 

she clenches around nothing then and for a moment alex almost cums in his pants. but he can tell she’s close now. her hips rock against his face and her thighs squeeze his head harder. nails dig into his scalp making him hiss but she’s so close, he can almost taste her release on his tongue. 

“so perfect for me,” he urges and lets his teeth drag over her clit again. “let me taste you, darling, yeah? i know you’re close.”

“so, so close…” she trails off and alex can’t resist the urge to place a kiss on her thigh. a soft request maybe or even a way to coax her. 

“let go for me then,” he breathes and pushes his thumb against her clit. his tongue thrusts inside her again and she mewls out his name again. louder than before.

“don’t stop, al, don’t—” and he feels it then, feels her drenching his lips and his chin. feels the spasm of her thighs and feels her ragged breaths reverberating through her body. 

just like she requested, he doesn’t stop. he laps up every last drop she has to over, fucks her with his tongue till she’s completely done riding out her orgasm. only once he feels her body go slack does he straighten. 

and alex is met with the loveliest sight he can imagine.

her hair is sprawled all over the pillow, messy and gorgeous. her face is flushed, lip bitten till it’s raw and red. alex sees a sliver of her underboob from where her t-shirt rode up but it’s when he looks at her thighs does he see all the red marks he’s left behind… 

all the kisses and hickeys and slight stubble burn. light bruises on her thighs from holding onto her so tight. 

she’s marked and some primal part of him can’t get enough of the sight. 

quickly alex moves to her and captures her mouth in his. her tongue slides in his mouth instantly, and alex knows she can taste herself on his tongue. quietly, she moans in his mouth and he feels like he’s going to burst right then.

but there’s the matter of the fucking call…

he has no idea how much time has passed but he knows she needs to leave soon while he tosses and turns restlessly in their bed, surrounded by the scent of her, still tasting her—

“where are you going?” her voice comes out as a breathless rasp and alex realises he’s pulling away. 

“well… well, i though you had the call, love…” 

she clicks her tongue and her smile turns into her grin. 

“oh you’re not leaving this bed,” she declares. “i’m texting them that i don’t feel well.”

slowly, a smile spreads over his face and alex shudders under her touch. 

“whatever happened to being adult and professional,” he teases breathlessly but she’s already pulling up his t-shirt, already lifting it over his head. 

“oh no,” she tuts, “none of that. not when i have much better things to do…”

[mywritingonlyfans]

One For The Road. // Mentor!Alex Turner X FreshSinger!Reader (Smut) Part 1

Prompt: (Age Gap Fic;Fem!Reader) Alex is on an extended hiatus from the band and finds himself wanting to start a studio to recruit new talent. One day, he hears a voice on the radio that captivates him, so he jots down the name and, with that voice stuck in his head, searches for it on Google. When he finds you, you both decide to work together for your growth, setting off a journey filled with new melodies, issues with paparazzi and online exposure, and Alex being completely smitten with his latest discovery and love.

Words: 9,5K

A/N: The fic was planned in three chapters: before the recognition (fame), during the recognition (fame), and after the recognition (fame).

Alex felt fulfilled, both physically and emotionally; he didn’t need any additional elements to complete his sense of satisfaction. During the band's extended break, due to various factors like other members' children and James admitting that a break would be beneficial, Alex found himself contemplating new possibilities. Unable to step away from music entirely, he set up a studio and handled other bureaucratic aspects for future artists. This was his way of giving back to an industry that had been so rewarding for him.

He didn’t know much about the artist he was suddenly into, only that sabe was a young girl with a captivating presence. Alex had heard your voice in the car before visiting Miles. It had a numbing effect on him, in a good way, leaving him sitting in the parked car after arriving, gazing out the window and absorbing every word you sang as if they were drops of water in the desert. It was strange, but it was exactly what he needed.

Your voice was raw with potential but still unrefined—you were not bad, just clearly new. The lyrics were sweet and nostalgic, evoking feelings that seemed foreign yet familiar. Alex found your work mature in a way he hadn’t been when he first started making music. He couldn’t picture your face, hair, or preferred style, but your voice lingered in his mind; the breaths, pauses, sometimes resembling soft and failed sighs, were compelling.

After the song ended, he stared at the radio display, waiting for your name to be announced. He quickly grabbed a notebook to jot down before he could forget.

Alex briefly mentioned you during dinner with Miles, running his fingers through his hair absentmindedly. His friend could tell that you had affected him in some way. "Just a girl, huh? How many times have you listened to her songs, Al?" Alex was usually romantic in his descriptions, this time he swore he had been succinct—though he felt he had failed. As the visit was coming to an end, all he could think about was your voice; he had to share you with someone else.

"Not many," he admitted honestly, though it wasn’t very convincing. Miles laughed, indicating he would listen later. His friend's recommendations were always reliable.

…

Finding you on the internet wasn’t easy. Alex had written down the wrong surname, which delayed his search longer than anticipated. You had no professional recordings, and later Alex discovered that the radio segment he had heard was an exclusive broadcast for new artists. All he found were amateur videos on YouTube of you singing in some pubs, with poor audio quality that didn’t do you justice. He listened to them repeatedly over the next few days.

The videos with better resolution were watched more often, and although Alex feared it might be due to your angelic face, he tried to avoid focusing on the fact that you were younger than him–perhaps more than he could point out. Nevertheless, as he closed his eyes before sleeping, he often imagined you from the video of your channel, wearing that summer wine dress with the straps slightly falling off. He imagined gently adjusting them with his finger, smoothing your hair while your calm eyes followed him. Your head falling affectionately into the caress of his palm and a brief wet kiss to your temple as your eyelashes flutter; not that he thought he would have such an effect on you.

It was indescribable how your voice occupied his mind more than anything else. He found himself humming snippets of your lyrics in the shower, while cooking, every end of the day. When he called Miles the next weeknd, his friend knew exactly what to expect.

…

You were delicate, and the words flowed from your lips effortlessly. Indeed, the cameras, the analog look, and the audio from the YouTube recordings didn’t do justice to what it was like to experience you live. There were few people, mostly around your age, though some appeared older with their doubtful expressions. It was a pleasant environment.

He watched you from a distance, neither too far nor too close. Wearing a white collared shirt, jeans, and a brown jacket, he kept his sunglasses on even at night to avoid being easily recognized. Occasionally, he slid the glasses down his nose to get a clearer view of you without the lenses.

You held the microphone gently, as if it weighed nothing, intertwining the cord between your fingers and taking small steps across the makeshift, tiny stage. Most people were distracted, but many took a moment to watch and listen to your music. Sometimes your voice faltered, and he noticed your disappointment, but you were so endearing.

You wore white tights and a black dress with a Peter Pan collar; Alex thought it suited you perfectly. He adjusted the edges of his shirt peeking out from under his jacket, a reflex of how your fingers nervously fidgeted with the fabric of your dress on stage. He smiled sweetly, as if hoping you could see and feel encouraged by it. You were doing well.

At the end, which was marked by silence following your thanks, he began clapping, soon joined by everyone else. You tried not to look around too much, not expecting the applause, and Alex was pleased to see you so happy.

You held a glass in your hand, chatting with the guitarist. Alex could easily see himself playing guitar alongside you in that dimly lit place filled with long, whispered conversations that created an intimate atmosphere. The guitarist nudged you, indicating Alex standing in front of you. When you turned, Alex felt his palms sweating and had to hide them in his pockets. You were even more beautiful up close; your posture wasn’t perfectly straight, but he noticed your charming walk and had to avoid smiling.

Alex felt more awkward than a teenager talking to girls, and he wasn’t proud of it. You greeted him with a warm smile, and before he could say anything, he knew you were as warm as you looked. “I enjoyed your performance up there. You sing really well, and the original lyrics are great. You’re very talented.” The compliment came out smoothly because he had practiced it many times. He felt his face flush, knowing he was fully red.

You bit your lips, offering a shy smile and resting your fingers right around the edges of your dress. Alex found this to be an adorable habit of yours. If he could, he would have held your hand and provided some distraction from whatever you were thinking. You thanked him, unsure of what to do or say but sincere nonetheless. When Alex offered a drink, he noticed your hesitation, but there wasn’t anything better for you to do than share a drink with someone who, for reasons you couldn’t quite place, seemed familiar. He was being nice.

“I don’t think anyone has ever come to see me sing so well-dressed,” you said, your eyes sparkling. Alex felt that in a few hours, you’d be more comfortable around him.

Noticing your assessment of his outfit, you could tell it wasn’t cheap; the fabric of his button-up shirt was well-tailored, the collar had a unique design, and the jacket was definitely leather. Not that you knew much about such things, but you didn’t see many like that.

Alex saw you enveloping your hands and didn’t think twice before taking off his jacket and draping it over you. Fingers touched your icy skin and he wished he had noticed sooner. You didn’t resist, your expression showed that you needed it; you merely nodded in thanks. “Don’t you think you deserve it?” Alex hadn’t intended it to sound flirtatious, but he realized it as soon as the words left his mouth. You shook your head, giving a half-hearted laugh.

He considered apologizing, but you continued, “I think it’s nice to think that someone would dress up to see me here, you know? To know that you’d come to see me sing and then anticipate it throughout the day, even considering what outfit would be most suitable or comfortable. It’s kind.” You were much more eloquent than he was, your words flowed naturally.

You sighed in relief, snuggling into the leather and tucking your hands into the long sleeves. Alex felt his chest warm up. You gestured animatedly while speaking, clearly excited, and probably didn’t even notice when your knees brushed together and stayed there in a pleasant touch that made him not want to move. “Well, if it helps, I heard you on the radio the other day and wanted to see you in person.” He breathed between his words, his voice deepening with the pauses.

You nodded, brushing off the compliment, not because you disliked it but because you didn’t want to deal with it. “I like your accent; it makes you sound older than you are.” Your shoulders brushed together, casually but comfortably, a result of your restlessness. There was a brief silence as you both listened to each other’s calm breathing amidst the background noise of drinks.

Maybe the contact was what mattered; Alex hadn’t planned this poorly. Despite his struggle with succinct communication, he explained the record label project, detailing the steps and what could be done if you wanted to pursue something more professional. At some point, you stopped listening to him, your eyes wandering over his dark hair cascading in beautiful waves, the furrow between the eyebrows, his perfectly shaped mouth, and the stubble that was starting to grow. He gestured less than you did, but his large yet delicate hands made him seem like a Christmas ornament, like men in '80s movies or even a younger Al Pacino.

“I’m listening, but I wouldn’t have the money for it; I can’t even afford a guitar. I play in pubs because I can use their instruments; they don’t pay well, and sometimes it’s just beer and food.” You spoke honestly, without bitterness about how it limited your dreams. You had the purity of someone who believed it was for you. Someone bumped into your chair, causing Alex to steady it, which brought your bodies closer together. He could now distinguish the exact color of your eyes and the scent of your hair. His mouth went dry. “That’s my point; you get paid so I can help you get heard and recognized for your work.”

…

"Did you set up the record label for the girl?" Miles carried a hint of truth, though he knew it was initially Alex’s idea, and you were the final touch that made it happen.

"It’s not like that, she’s really good. You’ll meet her." Alex’s voice carried warmth and anticipation; in a few months, you’d be fully immersed in this with him.

"And does she know what’s going on in your head? Like, the reason for your soft tone and silly grin when you mention her name? I might be wrong, but it doesn’t seem like you’re just thinking of her as a musician, Alex."

He shook his head, as if Miles could see him. "It’s nothing. I just want to help her with this. Besides, I’m not at that stage; we don’t fit in the same place." The idea of putting all that into words hurt a little.

The conversation continued, as if that settled the matter, both on the call and in real life. But Miles’s final words were, "Alex, I’m sure this will hurt her more than it will hurt you; you don't deal well with reason, your feelings will get in the way.”

And though it stung, it might be true—something to consider with concern. But would it really be so bad to spend all that time with you?

…

You learned who he was and thought it might be a scam, but a simple Google search left you stunned. You clearly knew the band, just not his exact current appearance; it certainly wasn’t like in the “Cornerstone” video, but the more recent ones fit the style of a dad with a six-year-old daughter, which was pleasant. Your friends were happy for you, even if they were as incredulous as you.

“It’s quite big; will more people be coming here?” Your voice echoed through the studio, your fingertips freezing. You’d arrived a few weeks ago and had some singing lessons Alex had arranged with another professional, but from then on, you feared he would be your sole tutor.

“For now, yes, but later there’ll be more people.” You nodded, hands in the pockets of your dress. LA was hot, he was killing you with that air conditioning. He had shown you every corner, you felt quite comfortable; the place had guitars on the wall, basses, and a drum set from that inaccessible brand. You stood in front of him, looking like a lost child, genuinely waiting for what to do next. It took him a moment, but he understood.

“Okay, I didn’t plan this out too well,” he laughed softly. He mentioned having read the songs you sent, even though he had heard them before, now he knew the exact lyrics. “Is it okay if I use the equipment?” Your question was followed by the tips of your fingers touching one of the microphones and holding the headphones, waiting for his response.

“Feel free to use whatever you want, little one.” Your cheeks were warm, making you bite the bottom of them. You looked confused at the buttons; they were just buttons with no informative labels. Alex had forgotten that this was familiar only to him. “Sure, it’s a good idea to get you familiar with everything first, then we can see what to do.” It sounded like a good idea.

The time passed quickly; what took hours, with Alex, seemed like minutes. Sometimes silence would fall over you both, but it was so comfortable. He had a pleasant voice, explaining things as if they weren’t intuitive, and you could visualize them. You liked it. His hair was longer than the last time you saw him, falling into a cute fringe over his eyes, which shone brightly as he spoke and gestured. He wore a suit and a button-up shirt, making no sense given the amount of fabric he was wearing in the LA sun.

“It’s pretty heavy, Turner,” he had given you a red guitar with white detailing, the side bearing his last name. It had clearly been through some battles but was beautiful. Alex found your pronunciation of the “r” endearing, rolled on your tongue and lingering. No one called him that around; it could be your thing. The guitars you had played were lighter, less durable.

“You can play if you want. You can also make it your own; it’s a good idea to get used to a specific one for now.” You listened, wondering why you wanted him to call you “little one” again. You held the strap, looking at the floor. “I don’t know how to play,” your voice was weak, your fingers pressing the strings without making any sound. He nodded, understanding you.

“What don’t you know, little one?” His face was calm, as if it didn’t cross his mind that you might be a fraud. His body was positioned behind yours, and you felt your heart racing; you were sure he could hear it. He placed his hand on the neck of the guitar, adjusting some strings.

What happened was: you would hum melodies, your friends would map out the notes, next you had them with you.

“I only remember my songs, which are few. I memorized them with the help of some friends at the pub.” You didn’t like how that sounded. You stepped back without thinking, bumping into Alex’s firm chest. He held your waist, noticing your nervousness. You still smelled the same as before.

“There’s nothing wrong with that; no one is born knowing. I learned a lot from the first album ‘til now; we can work on that if you want.” You heard the guttural sound he made when speaking slowly in your ear, dangerously close. “Do you want to try something?” he asked, a little before plucking a small segment of one of your songs. Alex had heard it so much that he had memorized the chords. You found it strange but ignored it; controlling your breathing was more complicated.

“I don’t know, Turner,” he laughed, the pleasant nasal sound close, with his blazer rubbing against your bare arms. He took your hands in his, guiding your fingers as he wanted, explaining each string press and brief sound. It took some time, and due to your anxiety, it seemed to take longer than usual.

“It doesn’t seem to sound very good,” you impulsively turned your face to look at him. His eyes, which had been on your hands, moved to your face, and it was closer than you had experienced before. “But it will, you know?” He smiled, his slightly crooked lower teeth noticeable to you, as well as the light beard scars and age lines around his eyes. God, he was so beautiful.

“You’re doing well, lil’ one; you just need to relax and be more patient.” You felt your fingers ache, pulling your hands slightly away from Alex’s. “You trust me a lot.” He noticed the superficial cut, the tips of your fingers bruised a bit, pretty normal, and you seemed quite calm about it. “Shouldn’t you? Trust yourself? I haven’t seen anything in you so far that doesn’t show how good you are at what you do...” The sentence was lost, somewhat unformed, but you wished he would talk about you like that more often. He took your finger, drying it with the edge of his shirt, which had become slightly reddened, and pressed until it stopped. It was hard not to just look at him. Your cold hands made Alex make a mental note that you weren’t a big fan of the air conditioning or that maybe your clothes were too short and thin.

…

On the same night, before heading back to the hotel, Alex suggested you two could go out to eat together as a way to spend more time talking. Since you’d spent hours at the studio and he hadn’t thought to offer you food or water, he chose a more relaxed place, reminiscent of the pubs where he knew you performed—live music and cozy lighting.

Upon arrival, you felt the chill against your arms. Alex laughed. You hadn’t seen him take off his blazer, but you noticed his attentive gaze as he draped it over your shoulders. It was a comforting relief. “I can control the studio’s temperature, but most places ‘ere are air-conditioned; you’ll end up feeling cold,” he said. You didn’t respond, only pondering whether Alex would always have a jacket or blazer for you if you never wore one. You liked his scent on you and the respectful way he looked at you, you hated that your thoughts were not as innocent.

As you sat across from him, there was little distraction, and you knew it would be a challenging time—more accurately, a journey to be honest, regardless of what happened next. He had loosened more buttons due to the heat. The collar was pressed against his rosy skin, neck chain attached to his sweat, and his eyes were on you, making your stomach flutter. Your foot brushed against his calf under the table, you couldn’t look at him. He smiled pleasantly as usual, the distinctive nasal sound of his laugh remaining soothing, despite the feelings he stirred in you. Your foot found comfort there, resting against him; neither of you moved.

“It smells nice; what is it?” he asked before you put away your pink tube of moisturizer.

“It’s peach,” you replied, sounding a bit excited. You wanted to talk but felt that besides your music, you might not be interesting to him, even though you felt there was something desirable in that; even if you didn't see yourself that way.

“The scent is great; it makes me less tense, Turner,” you said. You took his hand in yours. They were larger and calloused—something your fingers should be. You applied a drop of cream, massaging his hand with focus on each callus and prominent vein.

The sensation was light for him (even for you); your nails brushed against his wrist with a pleasant tickle. Taking your time, you smoothed out the creases in his poorly folded shirt, rebuttoned it, and adjusted the fold to what Alex would consider the perfect height. Your touch was gentle, and there you were, right in front of him, with your shoulders covered by his blazer. He noticed the strap of your dress was a little crooked, but you were nestled in something warm. Alex cherished everything about that realistic snapshot.

When you finished, you noticed his attention was on your face. You smiled slightly, as did he. You were in complete silence, yet every minute counted.

The food arrived shortly, and you didn’t need to question it. He simply whispered a “thank you, little one” to you as you curled into his blazer a bit more. He was hoping it would carry your scent by the end of the night.

The atmosphere remained the same—you both enjoyed each other's company, evident in the unspoken comfort between you. The air felt light in your lungs, yet breathing was easy and relaxed. Alex wasn't particularly hungry, but seeing your bright eyes and inevitable smile with every bite you took, he couldn't help savoring his food as well. You made him feel good; he realized just how true that was.

He gently brushed the corner of your mouth with his clean thumb, wiping away a small smudge. You followed his movement intently, reflexively cleaning the spot afterward. For a brief moment, Alex considered bringing his thumb to his lips out of instinct, but quickly caught himself, realizing the weight of the gesture, and instead wiped it off with a napkin. He thought about apologizing, but feared it would make things awkward.

However, you continued to look at him, your face full of color, the atmosphere just as comfortable and inviting as before. It wasn't a mistake for you; you liked the tingling sensation his touch left on your skin.

…

The weeks passed effortlessly; neither of you avoided the other. Occasionally, you both made your way down from your rooms together for dinner at the hotel restaurant or to have a drink. Conversations came easily. At first, Alex felt uneasy about how you didn’t smoke during routine activities, which made him uncomfortable for not being able to cut back on the habit himself. However, over time, he grew used to it and eventually stopped smoking around you, finding that he missed it less.

Sometimes, nights at the studio would deliberately stretch late, with Alex fine-tuning guitars that didn’t really need it or you attempting to replicate familiar songs on the drums, under the guise of practice. The truth was, even though you both knew you didn’t truly need each other, you still made an effort to be close to one another, whether in quiet moments or during busier times.

"Y’know, oldie. We moved it all online…” You mentioned it when you opened your eyes and noticed Alex annoyed by the droplets from his hair dripping onto his newspaper.

You couldn't pinpoint where the idea came from, but you understood his priority in not overwhelming you—imagining how a poor work dynamic could fall into the hands of bad journalists. In the end, that led you both to the beach, enjoying the refreshing breeze that made the sun less intense.

Your comment drove him to give up on the newspaper and just look at you. He couldn't look at you casually or quickly, he was getting used to that. Behind his sunglasses and cap, he felt like he was taking advantage by noticing the thin strap of your bikini and the ties and lace that drove him to think of other pieces. He took a deep breath, sinking into the lounge chair, like in romantic comedies that end well. You brushed your knee against his, drawing his attention back to you (yes, you were sharing the only remaining chair meant for couples—neither of you even knew such a thing existed).

Alex quickly realized he was blushing, feeling the heat in his cheeks when he got you had noticed him staring at you. "Do you need sunscreen? I didn't see you apply any yet," you asked, getting ready for your second layer, while Alex hadn’t put on any. "How disgraceful, Turner. You hardly seem like an older man." He rolled his eyes at your amusement.

His hair was tousled by the wind. His face had a radiant glow at you. You put some of it in his hand, and he began to apply it to his sun-kissed cheeks and nose, a bit of it smudging into his hair. You couldn’t help but laugh at the scene, his clumsy hands more likely to smear than spread the lotion properly. "Alright, Tur, let me handle this." You moved closer, your cool fingertips touching his skin and discarding the sunglasses. He caught the scent of peach as it drifted on the breeze, smiling softly as you smiled at him. Your gentle touch grazed his cheeks, finding comfort in the rough texture of his beard, which made you scrunch your nose in a playful smile that turned into a quiet laugh. Letting himself relax, Alex closed his eyes as you smoothed the excess lotion onto his neck. He wished he didn’t enjoy that closeness, but he did, and he had no intention of denying it.

You cleaned the stray strands of hair and lightly traced your thumb up the bridge of his nose, pausing briefly between his eyebrows. Alex sighed in contentment, his lips parting slightly, you felt even more at ease. Before he could open his eyes, you stepped back, slathering more sunscreen into your hands, then pressed your palms against his soft shoulders and just above his chest. He gave you a funny look, but before anything else could happen, you pulled away. "Rub it in," you instructed, noting his slight confusion. "And turn around. I'm going to apply it on your back." Touching his warm, velvety skin felt therapeutic. He shared that same sentiment. Was this how cats felt when they kneaded with their paws? It was just as comforting.

Alex felt the same when his fingers touched your back in return. The silence weighed on him, with only the pulsing of his veins echoing in his ears. Yet, you smiled peacefully, eyes closed and lower lip caught between your teeth as you lay on your stomach. He massaged your skin with sunscreen, convinced that this was a laborious task. Your muscles relaxed under his touch, and he noticed a foolish smile creeping onto his lips.

He gently moved the delicate strap of your bikini aside, making sure to cover every inch, no matter how thin the material was. His palm brushed your hair away from the nape of your neck, and for a long moment, he imagined kissing your sensitive skin, hearing your sighs at a playful bite, letting out the repetitive thoughts that were always about you stuck in his mind. He had memorized your scent, longed to immerse himself in you until your peaches became his, something only he could experience–no one else, not even the stupid boys your age (especially them). He followed the same ritual on your neck, sighing to himself as he acknowledged how addictive your skin was there; you were highly addicted.

"Wait a minute," you murmured, your words drawn out and languid, almost like failed moans that would fade into silence. Your delicate fingers fumbled with his as you pulled the bikini string down, revealing more of your skin, though not in an obscene way. Even though his gaze was heavy in a way that it wasn't entirely clear. Soon, the piece was no longer there, but the view was limited by the way you were lying.

Understanding his place, he lightly rubbed sunscreen over the exposed area, subtly moving down your waist and barely grazing your hips. He felt as if he were touching porcelain, afraid that any poorly thought-out movement might shatter you. He gave your flesh a final gentle squeeze, and your abdomen contracted at the loss, accompanied by a soft murmur. Returning to his position, Alex chuckled to himself as he noticed how you kept your head closer to the towel you used as a pillow, your body not moving a single millimeter. It was then that he realized the process had taken longer than expected, you had fallen asleep.

He pulled his cap down over his face, a bit embarrassed, even though you couldn't see him. Adjusting his sunglasses back in place, he quietly watched you, taking in your calm breathing and relaxed posture. He took his own shirt, wrapping it over you, deciding that you had been in the sun long enough. He didn't touch you, knowing you were still asleep, but couldn't resist briefly brushing his fingertips against his lips and gently moving the strands of hair that covered your face. His gaze sharpened instinctively, and while he knew how to handle it if he were alone, you didn't deserve that side of his life.

It was quick—just a fleeting moment, a feeling of being watched, though he didn't hear any cameras or whispers. He didn't want to risk dismissing the thought, even if he couldn't see anyone nearby. Slowly, yet without hesitation, he gently called your name, softly stroking your arm. You responded by murmuring his name, manipulating a warm and soft sound, making him wonder if you were conscious of his presence or merely dreaming—of him. It took a while, but Alex remained patient until your eyes opened, startled. He then placed the cap on your head, carefully cradling you in his arms, being cautious not to disorient you further as he buttoned his shirt on you, doing so with as little awkwardness as possible. Despite touching your skin, he never once looked anywhere but your face, waiting for your arms to slip into the sleeves until you looked somewhat presentable.

"We're going to walk to the car, alright? It'll be quick," he said, his voice concerned, firm, and reassuring. He knew what he was doing, hoping to minimize the damage. You simply nodded, resting your tired cheek on his shoulder, and he chuckled softly. "Can you put on my sunglasses, please, little one?" You gave a sweet smile, making him internally berate himself for putting you in this situation. He placed the sunglasses on you, guiding your hands with his own, and kept you close. "Shall we? It'll be quick, promise and you can sleep on the way to the hotel, huh?" You appreciated his calm demeanor, respecting your groggy mood after just waking up.

He grabbed your bag, abandoning any attempt to save the newspaper, and drove his hand on the small of your back. Leaning into him for comfort, you felt him hold you tighter. Instinctively, you nuzzled your face into his chest, only to hear him say, "Okay, just don't get too close to her, alright?" His heart pounded against your ear, and you heard the sound of camera clicks. You didn't want to, nor could you, open your eyes. You couldn't make sense of the noise; the person continued taking photos, asking questions, and you couldn't tell if there was more than one of them.

Alex opened the car door, firmly guiding you until you were seated inside. He gently stroked your hair, noticing how visibly shaken you were. He quickly kissed your forehead. It was a brief, hurried gesture, one you wished you had more time to savor. You held onto his arm, unable to speak. "I'll close the door and come around; I'll be right beside you, and we'll head to the hotel, okay?" He was frustrated, angry, but it wasn't directed at you; he didn't want you to see these feelings of his. He should have been more careful, knowing that this was possible even with the band being on a break, but he had been careless.

Once inside the car, with the windows tinted completely black, ensuring no one could see in, he reached for your hand as he started the engine, holding it tightly as you looked at him, dazed, avoiding looking outside. "Does this happen often?" you asked, your voice small. His throat tightened with an irrepressible knot; he hadn’t considered how foreign all this was to you.

…

Alex’s head throbbed, the furrow between his eyebrows deep with tension. You sat on the edge of the bed, hands clasped between your thighs, eyes filled with unshed tears as you looked at him. He had used his connections, calling to inform them of the situation and to request the removal of any photos of you from gossip sites if they had already been posted. He was told on the phone that it would be handled, which confirmed that the images had likely been uploaded.

Alex chose to make the call in the hallway, asking you to go ahead to the room, not wanting you to hear and worry more than you might have already. But as soon as he entered, it was clear you had seen something. Your fingers played with the hem of his shirt, lost in thought, and guilt washed over him.

"I can listen to you, pretty one," he said, his voice soft, showing a rare vulnerability as he assured you that he was there with you. He wanted to hear you out, to relieve any burden weighing on your shoulders.

"I know this happened because you’re well-known," you replied, swallowing hard as you struggled to find the right words. Alex waited, kneeling in front of you between your legs, his fingers lightly brushing your skin. He didn’t know exactly what to do, but hoped he could offer some comfort. The touch didn’t feel like a mistake—it was a natural act of reassurance, though the proximity made him feel conflicted. Yet, considering the situation, it seemed right.

"I’m really sorry, truly. It was careless of me," he apologized, his tone sincere. You shook your head, gently cupping his face in your hands, pushing his hair back. His warm, caramel eyes focused on you, filled with concern as you teetered on the edge of tears, a feeling he feared he didn’t fully understand.

"Tur, I might sound stupid, but—" You hesitated, then he responded with his usual tenderness, drawing you closer. Your legs wrapped around him, your arms holding him tight. He stroked your hair, helping you find comfort against him. The towel draped over his shoulders—since he had given you his shirt and didn't feel like walking around the hotel shirtless—slipped to the floor, and having his warmth was enough for you.

"If they like the album, which I really hope they do, and with all the pre-album promotion as an artist... I don’t want to sound ungrateful, huh, like, this whole journey with you has been amazing, but is it going to be normal to have so many people talking ‘bout me? Pictures of me without my consent? And comments about my appearance?" You couldn’t look at him, which made it easier for you to speak coherently without feeling embarrassed about opening up.

It was so much to process, and Alex hadn’t considered it from that angle. After all, he was the one who had brought you into this situation, both in the moment and for the long haul. You were young, and he didn’t want you to go through what he had at your age. He could have prevented this, but now you were caught up in it.

He kissed your forehead, then your eyelids, realizing just how intimately right—and wrong—this all felt. It was inevitable, and it shouldn’t have been. He pulled back slightly, only to give in when you tightened your hold, snuggling closer. You took his hand and placed it on your waist, your way of asking him for it to take longer, seeking more of his embrace. He chuckled softly, needing it just as much.

There wasn’t much to say. "I think you know the answer, little one. I wish it wasn’t like this either. I’m sorry for introducin’ you to this.”

Alex’s hands slid up and down your back, gripping the fabric and holding you tightly against him. Your sigh was one of relief, drawn out, so sweet. He cupped your chin, lifting your head to meet his gaze. Your cheeks were damp, and he offered a small, uncomfortable smile.

“It’s okay,” you said weakly, trying to sound more composed than you felt. “It’s not your fault, Turner. I don’t think that, and I don’t regret being here with you. I’m just scared of everything that’s going to come with this, especially since I never really thought about it before.” Your words seemed distant, but even in your emotional state, you were eloquent.

Alex didn’t know exactly what to expect either; things had changed since 2008. He remembered the Humbug era being the worst, with all the attention from MTV. His tongue rested on the roof of his mouth as your fingers found a home at the nape of his neck, gently tugging at the fine hairs, much like you do with the hem of your shirt when you’re anxious. It soothed you. Your eyes lowered to his chest, and you realized it was the first time you’d hugged him this longer, and he was shirtless. You liked everything about it—the warmth and the view you had.

He pulled the collar of your shirt toward him, bringing your face closer until his tiny beard tickled your skin. You looked at him, and he didn’t even try to hide the fact that he was staring right into your soul. You were beautiful with your red eyes and tear-streaked cheeks. Understanding what you were going through, he got you whispering amidst the chaos of finding the right words, “I can’t mess this up, Tur.”

He focused on your words, though he wanted to pull you into him even more, but he resisted, waiting for you to continue. “I want this too, I just don’t want you to think less of me, okay?” Your eyes welled up again, and as soon as you tried to lower your head, he gently lifted it back up, fully aware of what you were trying to convey. “I don’t want you to think I’m like this just because I’m interested in you. I don’t want you to see me as…” You paused, struggling with the words. He simply rested his forehead against yours, holding your face gently in his hands.

“I don’t think anything bad ‘bout you, lil’ one. I’ve never thought that way, and these are just your worries, you got me? Nothing changes the fact that I think you’re talented and competent, huh? That has nothing to do with how I see you as a professional. You don’t have to be afraid of that.” He was firm, his voice louder than usual. You took in every word, noting the roughness of his tone and the space between his lack of manners with sentences. He swallowed hard, his mouth slightly open, and you appreciated how patient he was with you, how well he seemed to understand that you needed this moment. Your fingers tightened on his, and then your lips met his. It was slow, and though you felt like you lacked experience, it was warm. He pulled you closer, every inch of you molding to him.

You started to pull away, embarrassed, feeling like maybe this wasn’t meant for you, but as soon as your lips began to leave his, he tugged your collar, bringing you back for a more urgent kiss, making it clear he had been waiting for this for a long time. You leaned back slightly, but he held you firmly, sensing how your body was softening against him. He chuckled into the kiss, and you felt his velvety tongue against yours, slowly being enveloped by wet, lingering kisses. The taste was salty from tears and the sea, you laughed at the thought of him being seasoned.

You brushed his fringe away, noticing how his cheeks were flushed and his lips swollen. You wanted more. You realized your brain hadn’t fully registered what it felt like to have his beard brushing against your face.

“Was it bad?” you asked, your voice barely audible. You couldn’t help but think about how Alex had been with many other women, while you could count on one hand the people you’d kissed in your life.

“Do you talk when you’re nervous?” His warm breath brushed against your skin, close enough to be unsettling. Before you could answer, he planted soft kisses on your lips, still making a slight sound and lingering just a bit. He tasted of mint, not quite of cigarettes. The tip of his nose grazed yours, and the subtle stubble on his face slid pleasantly against your cheek. When he pulled back, your natural reaction was to lean forward for more, which he didn’t resist, a playful smile on his lips as he let you set the pace. Your fingers seemed made for his hair, and Alex was sure of it. By the end, you were breathless, though he wasn’t quite as much.

“Okay, I need to breathe...through my nose while doing this.” He chuckled, pulling you close for a hug. You felt at ease with him, talking out of nerves, but it was clear it didn’t bother you. He liked that. “It’s not bad at all. It’s actually wonderful, pet.” He touched your nose and cheeks, his fingers tracing every feature, wanting to soak in each detail of you. “You’re beautiful,” he said. You nodded. He struggled to figure out if the way your eyes fluttered when he spoke to you like that was because of his voice or his compliments, yet he was determined to keep drawing those reactions from you.

He ran his calloused fingers up your thigh, stopping at your hips, squeezing them hard. Your nails dug into his shoulders in anticipation as your legs parted briefly, giving him better access and also making the fabric of your shirt give him more of a view. The bottom of your bikini was tight, very tight, leaving a mark on your skin and he ran his fingertips over the spot. You looked at him, thinking about how no one had ever looked at you like that; the mix of desire and actually seeing you as something more than that. You had written about it before, but never experienced it, and so you wondered about the possibility of Alex acting like that because he knew your writing. However, you didn't want to think badly of him, you wanted to enjoy it.

His gaze rose to meet yours, his tongue moistening his lips and the crease between his eyebrows deepening, was it fair that that alone made you wet? He didn't need to say anything, you confirmed what he wanted.

The attention lingered on your face, your heart racing at the serenity of how he undid the ties, getting rid of the piece. You couldn't move, taken by how delicate he was and his eyes on you didn't do the same, even though he didn't fail to contemplate you.

“Turner,” it was like a sob, a tiny sharp. His fingers touched your center, sighing as a way of savoring the moment, then he sank a little deeper, smearing his fingers and spreading them from your entrance to your clit to improve the sensation.

“It's all right, princess, I'm right ‘ere. I've got you, but we've got all the time in the world, so let's be patient, you're with me?" Each word was breathy and soft, difficult for you to string together, but you still repeated his last name in a pleading whisper.

He brushed two of his fingers against you, one of your legs lifting and bending at the knees, he laughed at your reactions but it was adorable, even though he was nothing much but his dark orbs. Respecting your body, he plunged his fingers deeper, sliding in easily. Your body gave in, your hands supporting you back and your moans getting hotter, you felt tighter but it still felt good.

"Relax, lil’ one. You can lie down, everything's fine, huh? You can just relax, no thoughts." His accent, full of patience, so familiar yet made you swallow hard. Alex’s fingers were damp, all along their length, carrying that blissful energy that comes with youth. Certainly, it could be said that you were not so used to that, the gap between doing something and thinking about it was great, given your state you had fantasized about it a few times; maybe you expected something he couldn't give you, but he was there for you.

He felt like an exception, he wasn't so young anymore, but he was acting like one. His fingers slid, you swallowed them completely, until your legs trembled a bit and he pulled back, only to repeat it all over again. He was touching you, getting to know you, and thinking about how he would be tasting your juices on his tongue in a few seconds, getting you ready to have him inside of you without any concern... He throbbed with each glimpse.

He couldn't deny that he had fantasized about you too, how he wanted to corrupt you while you were wearing your usual spaghetti strap dresses, hike them up to your waist and just pull down his pants to take you in the studio, have your voice fade away while instruments were thrown to the floor. He would get heavy, swollen with sensitivity in his underwear when he thought about you from time to time, refusing to do anything that bordered on disrespect, and even if he failed, he followed a ritual in his light groping, looking for relief, without letting himself get there as punishment. He never felt right thinking about you that way, but it seemed like a plausible moment to let himself be reminded of it.

Your eyes were closed, your face to the ceiling, your head pressed into the mattress in agony. You weren't expecting it, but your muscles clenched tighter into the sheets, this was new; you knew what it was, it just had never been like this. There were brief kisses on your wetness, noisy and messy, his hair brushed against your thigh and his hands were firmly on you. You had never seen yourself without thinking about anything, not literally, but your senses only hovered over how to be good for Turner so he could make you feel great.

For Alex, it was better than he remembered imagining. It was hard to breathe when all he could do was focus on keeping going, listening to your sweet whimpers for more. The vivid scent of peach filled his senses, your taste taking over his consciousness, everything felt so good.

He sank his tongue, contracting it hard so that it dissolved inside you and felt in honor how you dripped down the sides of his mouth. He held the edges of your shirt tightly, pushing you closer to him, his nose brushing against your clit while his whole face rubbed all over your folds with desire. Your fingers tightened in his hair, gripping hard as you called out his name, the words barely coherent. You focused on him with a dazed expression, your gaze hazy and unfocused. His face was serene, eyes closed in deep enjoyment, completely immersed in your taste. You shifted a little, although he soon forced you against the mattress so you wouldn't do that, wanting to feel his beard hurt your skin. In fact, boys your age, or at least your experiences, did that very quickly, as an obligation. Alex was not a boy.

"You're so addictive," your throat was dry. Alex hadn't even done half of what he had in mind with you; and you certainly couldn't handle it.

He turned his face away due to your trembling knees, holding your gaze to his. He wanted you to get there, but in another way. Still, he watched you as he pressed only the tips of his fingers on your clit, without movements other than those of your hips. “So smart and charming, is there anything you can't do?” You pulsed, electric current going through your entire body.

You didn't know what to do, your cheeks were burning and you could only moisten your lips, wanting the agonizing knot to disappear.

“Turner,” he laughed, the same nasal sound you loved. It was like a mantra, the repetition of the drawn-out last name coming out of you and the cocky laugh. “Please, I need it, I need you, Tur.”

He nodded, stiff and sore in his shorts, then stood up and pulled them off. He didn’t look in a hurry to you, it gave you a headache, but he was nice to look at; his pale skin, his slim waist, his shoulders red from your scratches and his reddened length. He was hot and well-endowed, good enough to make your mouth water.

"Have you done this before?" His friendly tone made you hate your thoughts, and also question if you actually had. His cheeks were flushed, as were his lips, and he swallowed hard while looking at you. You felt a bit embarrassed. "It's okay if you haven't, princess." You smiled softly, shaking your head. "A few times, but it was never good. But this time, it is." Alex understood; he didn't judge you and never would. He ran his hand through your hair, brushing it away from your face, then gently tugged at the collar of your shirt, pulling it slightly away from your skin. "Are your songs not based on your experiences?" You feared he might think that was a bad thing, but his voice didn't carry any judgment. "No..." You sighed, content with his touch and his body pressed to yours. "I don't think I've ever truly experienced love, at least not directly. But I like writing about how I hope it will be." His eyes were a bit misty, and he nodded. He found that meaning beautiful; it was a perspective he hadn't considered before. He didn't feel so distant from that, since he wrote about things he'd witnessed. "It's beautiful. You do it really well.”

He opened the buttons, one by one, taking his time. He revealed your body to him little by little, admiring your collarbone, the curve of your breasts and stomach. His lips touched every nuance, leaving a wet trail and a bite on the flesh below your perky nipple. You writhed with a shrill noise, your legs clinging to him, ready to feel him as he brushed against your thigh. Alex also moaned every now and then, much more restrained and full-bodied, so hoarse.

He held your face to him, preventing you from turning away. The weight of his body felt good, everything about Alex felt like being enveloped in calm; even though you didn't expect calm at that moment. He opened his mouth, perhaps as thirsty as you were, his tongue on the roof of his mouth, staring at you. Slow and precise, you had your muscles soften as he got warm and tight inside you. You swallowed greedily, wet as never before, taking every inch of him.

“Good pet, good girl.” You held onto him tighter, your eyes watering. He held your head, snuggling you close to him. "You're doing great, you're such a good girl, right? Focus on how I'm inside you, filling you to the brim, can you feel me, lil’ one?” He was hoarser, unavoidable not to pay attention. His voice really calmed you down, making it work, your legs rested slowly and you noticed he was more comfortable in you; fitting better.

He held your hand on top of your head, intertwining your fingers, letting you squeeze tightly. Your body rocked on the bed with the rhythm of his hips, the movement was slow, he let his entire length come out of you like that and then pressed harder so you could accommodate him all the way into your lower tummy. It was good, warm, it made you think of more and more until you felt your belly tingle. Alex had a prominent crease, his pink lips parted and he gasped along with you every time your bones collided. Unable to hold back, he sped up, letting you whisper a painful, "Thank you," which made him release your hand, gripping your wrist violently as his forehead fell onto your shoulder. You stained the back of his neck with bruises, wanting your fist to come out the same way.

Your hot breath came in short gasps, you tried to be coherent in shyly mumbling that he could come inside you; wanting to have him fill you to the last drop until you were exhausted. Which wouldn't be a problem, you took your precautions up to date.

The intensity of his body on yours was growing, similar to the arrival of guitar solos in a chorus; you had to close your eyes, really paying attention to how your walls squeezed him inside you. Your firm thighs around him, added to the strength with which he thrusted you, caused friction on your clit and you were becoming aware of your limits. You felt Alex hug you again, delicate arms around you, wetting your shirt in soft moans as he filled you warmly. The sensation, the noise, everything connected made you relieve yourself too, in a relaxation of having both liquids mixing, ready to run out of you. He slowed down, keeping the same ritual, making you feel your thighs sticky until he realized you were getting too sensitive with tears filling your pretty eyes, and it was better to stop.

There was the familiar, comfortable silence that always settled between you two, both of you immersed in each other's presence. The embrace was gentle yet firm. He was comfy, still inside you, pulsing a bit, but good. His hand moved in meaningful circles on your back, and you mirrored the motion on his arm. His hair was a mess, and you imagined yours probably was too. His swollen lips drew in air as before, making you contemplate the way his tongue rested against the roof of his mouth.

"Can you lick me, Tur?" You asked comfortably given the situation, feeling good all over his touch.

He ran his hand over your chin, looking at you, not finding it bad. You hesitated when you asked, but it seemed inevitable. He moistened his lips, touching the tip of his tongue to your mouth, right on the lower one, holding your face firmly and doing what you said. The velvety, wet touch ran down your lip and into your mouth, which made you smile slightly, holding him for a kiss. It was good, you had imagined that. He sucked your lip to himself, in a somewhat messy act of saliva, and you wanted to do it more often.

“You good?” It was a genuine intimacy, right after a few minutes of nothing but the pure sound of his heartbeat echoing in your ear. You couldn’t help but wonder if this would affect how professional he thought you were—after all, he was your mentor—but you didn’t want to bring that up now. Similarly, feeling the way his shirt clung to your body, brushing against his skin and stealing your scent, he wondered the same thing, afraid you might truly believe you weren’t talented enough due to the internet and that this had only made things worse in your mind. Yet, he didn’t know what to say; the silence felt safe. "I’m okay, Tur. Tired, but I don’t want to think about songs, albums, or what we’ll do in an hour right now." You nestled closer to him, kissing his cheek softly, then his neck. Your voice was laced with tears, and he wasn’t sure if it was about what happened minutes ago or the issue with the paparazzi, but he understood that you were vulnerable. He felt guilty, still processing everything. "I’m not going to leave you, little one. I’ll be ‘ere, to deal with this and remind you how good you are." He whispered into your hair that smelled of peaches. You believed him, and he made you see a future in all of this.

You could have him on the cover of your album.

...

taglist: taglist: @ohladymoon @indierockgirrl @bloo-wisteria @bellaturner @cosmicpiracy @nikisfwn @andrews-lovr @nela-cutie @alexturnersbbg3 @blackberryblossom @lilmisssweetdreams @alexshotelandcasino @tbhclove @rostarblog @babieswiftie @yourstartreatment @atticssmellgood @aacheinthejaw @mingods @theonlyoneswhoknowsblog @andulina567 @tonyxstanks @despairinthedeqarture @harrysbestiee @ultragirrl @lifewasawillow @viviannagiorgini @turnerside @seokjinluvb0t @solacestyles @humbuginmybones @gracieghost3695 @holssireland @trumanblacktreacle @lovelikethunder

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[diorrgrl]

Alex Turner Fic Recommendations ♡

(had to make one for alex<3. don't forget to reblog and give feedback to these amazing writers)

-pillow talk by @ohladymoon

-break up with your girlfriend by ^ *

-vacuum cleaner by @alexturnerpet *

-overwhelmed by @nikisfwn

-the car's about you by @mywritingonlyfans

-soothing touch by @bellaturner

-cheater cheater by @mister-mvse *

-baby i'm yours by @andrew-lincolns-gf *

-you wreck me by @tragiclilb *

-despair in the hotel lounge by @cosmoschaotic

-more than a song by @storiesforallfandoms *

-she looks like fun by @thatredmooninvenus

-you're losing me by @ashtreme

-do i wanna know ? by @turnerchic

-glass in the studio by @imagine-that-100

[justallmyfantasies]

out of words

oh god, i’m gonna marry him if he keeps this shit up.

contains: 18+ smut! (unprotected piv, oral (f receiving) kinda praise. prequel to out of breath.)

word count: 4.5k

MINORS DONT INTERACT!

based on this request! (tysm!

time had passed and honestly, the thought of having a ring on your finger had went over your head. it didn’t happen and although you knew one day it would, you just wanted it to happen now and then.

your kitchen was steaming up from the food cooking in front of you. you offered to cook tonight’s dinner, usually on fridays you’d get a takeout or something but this time you wanted to cook. not for any particular reason just because you liked cooking and it was one of your hobbies.. it wasn’t, you just wanted alex to try this new recipe you’d found.

you held the wooden spoon in your hands, slowly moving the food in the frying pan around, making it sizzle each time you pressed down on it.

the kitchen was mostly quiet, save for the sound of the food cooking in front of you and the occasional clanging of pots and pans on the stove. the warm, homely scent filled the air, making the room feel cozy and intimate.

you were so focused on the food you were cooking that you didn't notice alex arrive home from his studio session until he cleared his throat, leaned up against the doorframe.

you jumped slightly in surprise, turning to look at him. "oh, you're home." you said, your heart rate slowly returning to normal. "i thought you'd be at the studio for a bit longer."

he gave you a small smile, pushing off the doorframe and taking a few steps into the kitchen. "yeah, we got done a little earlier than expected." he replied, coming to stand next to you. he looked at the food on the stove, his eyes scanning over it curiously.

"i'm trying out a new recipe." you explained, stirring the food in the pan with the wooden spoon. "i found it online and i thought it looked interesting.. thought i'd give it a try."

he hummed in response, watching you cook for a moment before speaking again. "it smells really good.” he complimented, a note of genuine interest in his voice. "i can't wait to try it."

you felt a small sense of pleasure at his compliment. you enjoyed cooking for him, especially when he seemed to appreciate the effort you put into it. you continued to move the food in the pan, the sizzle and pop of the meat and vegetables filling the silence.

alex leaned against the counter, his arms folded across his chest as he watched you work. he seemed content to just watch you, his eyes following every movement of your hands. the room was filled with a comfortable quiet, the only sounds the bubbling of the food and your own breathing.

you could feel his gaze on you, studying you. it wasn’t in a malicious way, more like he was mentally cataloguing the way you moved and the different expressions that flitted across your face as you concentrated on the task at hand.

after a few minutes, the food was done, and you set the spoon aside and turned off the heat. you plated the food, dividing it equally between two plates and carrying them over to the small dining table that sat in the corner of the kitchen.

alex followed you, pulling out a chair and sitting down at the table. he looked at the food on his plate, a smile playing at the corners of his mouth. "this looks amazing." he said, picking up his fork.

"i hope it tastes as good as it looks." you responded, sitting down across from him. you felt a flutter of nerves, suddenly nervous about whether or not he would like the dinner you had made.

he took a bite, and you anxiously watched his expression, looking for any hint of enjoyment or disappointment. his eyes widened slightly, and he let out a soft hum of pleasure. "this is really good." he said after he swallowed, looking up at you with a genuine smile.

you let out a small sigh of relief, your shoulders relaxing slightly. "i'm glad you like it." you said, feeling a wave of pride wash over you. you picked up your own fork and took a bite, savoring the flavors as they exploded on your tongue.

the dinner continued in comfortable silence, save for the sounds of forks clinking against the plates. you found yourself stealing glances at alex as he ate, watching the way his mouth moved and the small expressions that flickered across his face.

you both finished eating the food you prepared. you stood up and gathered all the dishes, piling them onto each other to take into the kitchen to clean.

alex looked up at you from where he was sitting at the table, a smile on his face. “you want me to clean up?” his voice was soft.

you shook your head, balancing the plates in your arms. "no, it's fine," you said. "i can handle it. you go ahead and relax, you must be tired after your session."

he stood up anyway, gently taking the plates from your arms. "it's no trouble," he said, heading towards the kitchen. "besides, i don't want you to have to do everything yourself."

you couldn't help but feel a pang of affection at his gesture. it was little things like this, the small acts of consideration, that made you fall in love with him all over again each day. so whilst he did that, you took the clean laundry upstairs to sort out.

you carried the basket of clothes up the stairs, the familiar scent of laundry detergent filling your nose. the upstairs hallway was lit by soft evening light, the shadows stretching across the wooden floor.

you entered your bedroom, setting the laundry down on the bed and sorting through the clothes. you could hear alex moving around in the kitchen downstairs, the sounds of running water and dishes clinking together drifting up from below.

as you folded the clothes into alex’s drawer, you spotted something. a box, like it was for jewellery. you paused for a moment, feeling a pang of curiosity. the box was small and inconspicuous, but something about it made your heart flutter with anticipation. you picked it up, carefully running your fingers over the smooth surface.

you knew you probably shouldn’t look. it was alex’s property, after all, and it was wrong to snoop. but the temptation was too strong. you carefully lifted the lid of the box, peeking inside.

your heart stopped. inside the box was a ring, a beautiful diamond sparkling in the low light of the room. your breath caught in your throat, and you froze, your eyes fixed on the ring in the box.

the ring was a simple but elegant design, the diamond set in a delicate gold band. it was beautiful, and your mind immediately went to the one conclusion any woman’s mind would jump to upon seeing a ring like this.

you felt a flood of emotions wash over you. joy, shock, hope, all swirling together in a chaotic tangle inside your chest. was this what you thought it was? was alex really going to propose?

closing the box, you walked downstairs. stopping in front of alex as he sat on the couch, his expression confused now.

"is everything alright?" he asked, noticing the look on your face. your heart was pounding in your chest as you sat down next to him, the small box hidden safely in your hand.

"is this yours?” you asked, showing him the box.

his eyes widened as he saw the box, recognizing it immediately. surprise and a hint of nervousness flickered across his face. "i.. uh.. i don’t know what that is." he said, his voice suddenly quieter than it had been before.

you didn’t miss the hint of nervousness in his voice, or the way his eyes darted away from yours. it was obvious he was lying, but he was doing a terrible job of covering it up.

you couldn’t help but feel a little amused at his attempt to play dumb. placing the box in your lap, you turned to face him, a small smile playing on your lips. “you’re a terrible liar, you know that?”

he winced at your words, a sheepish expression on his face. "i... i was trying to keep it a surprise." he admitted, rubbing the back of his neck nervously.

your heart skipped a beat. he was trying to keep it a surprise. that confirmed your suspicions. the ring in the box was meant for you, and he had intended to propose to you.

a sense of giddy excitement filled your chest, and you could feel your heart rate speeding up. you looked down at the box in your lap, then back up at him. "so i take it this ring is for me?" you asked, a note of teasing in your voice.

he let out a nervous laugh, his gaze flickering between the box and your face. "yeah... i was planning on proposing to you.” he said, his voice soft and hesitant. "i had it all planned out.. a nice dinner, a night walk.. but then you found it so.”

you couldn’t help but smile at his explanation. as sweet as it would’ve been to have a elaborate proposal, this was so much more genuine and real. you held up the box, your eyes glittering with unshed tears. "so does this mean you're asking me to marry you?”

he nodded, a nervous but hopeful look in his eyes. "yeah, i am," he said, his voice steady. "i know it's not exactly how i planned, but... yes. i want to marry you. i want to spend the rest of my life with you."

your heart felt like it might burst out of your chest. tears prickled at the corners of your eyes, but you managed to keep them at bay. you placed the box down on the table, throwing your arms around his neck and pulling him into a fierce hug.

he wrapped his arms around you, embracing you tightly as if he was afraid you'd disappear if he let go. you could feel the rapid beat of his heart against your chest, his breath warm against your neck.

you held each other for a few moments, enjoying the feel of each other's embrace. finally, you pulled back slightly so that you could look at him, your eyes meeting his. "yes," you said, your voice shaky with emotion. "yes, i will marry you."

his face lit up, a beautiful smile spreading across it. "yeah?" he asked, his eyes searching yours as if he couldn’t quite believe what you’d just said. "you’re serious?"

you nodded, your own smile growing wider to match his. "yes, i'm serious." you said, reaching up to cup his face in your hands. you leaned in closer, kissing him gently.

he pulled you closer, his hands sliding up your back to hold you against him. he deepened the kiss, his tongue tracing the seam of your lips. it was a mixture of tenderness and desperation, the relief and joy at your answer fueling the intense passion between you.

the air around you felt electric, the heat between you both increasing with every passing second. you were both clinging to each other, your fingers grasping at fabric and skin, needing to feel as much of each other as possible.

suddenly, he picked you up and stood up from the couch, wrapping your legs around his waist whilst you giggled. he walked with you in his arms towards the stairs, his lips leaving a trail of kisses down your neck.

the walk up the stairs was a blur, the only thing that mattered was the feeling of his body against yours. he carried you into the bedroom, setting you down on the bed and pinning you beneath him.

he kissed you again, his body covering yours completely. his hands roamed over your skin, leaving a trail of fire wherever they touched. you could feel the hard press of him against you, a subtle yet powerful reminder of how much he wanted you.

he broke the kiss, but his lips didn’t wander far. he moved down towards your neck, kissing and biting gently at the sensitive skin there. you arched into him, your fingers tangling in his hair needingly.

his hands went to the hem of your shirt, pushing it up and over your head. his eyes darkened as he took in the sight of you laid out beneath him. he let his hands wander across your exposed skin, tracing over your curves and dips. it was almost reverent, the way his touch glided over you, as if he was worshipping every inch of your body.

you could feel a shiver of pleasure course through you under his touch. every nerve in your body was on fire, wanting and needy for more of him. you reached up and started unbuttoning his shirt, pulling it off of him and discarding it on the floor.

his skin was hot and smooth under your touch, his body firm and strong. you ran your fingers over his chest and stomach, feeling the ripple of muscles beneath your palms. he shivered at the sensation, his hands coming down to grasp at your hips and pull you closer.

his lips found yours again, the kiss deeper this time, hungrier. he nipped at your lower lip before pulling away, his breath coming in short gasps. "i need you," he whispered, his voice thick with desire. "now."

the urgency in his voice sent a wave of heat through you, pooling low in your stomach. you could feel the same frantic need building inside you, a desperate craving for him that couldn’t be ignored. "then take me," you breathed, your fingers digging into his back.

he didn't need any more encouragement. he hooked his fingers in the waistband of your pants, pulling them down your legs and throwing them aside. his hands slid back up your thighs, his touch setting your skin on fire.

he positioned himself between your legs, his mouth finding your neck again as he began to kiss and suck at the sensitive skin there. his hands roamed over you, caressing and exploring every inch of you. you could feel the hard press of his arousal against you, the heat and need rolling off of him in waves.

you wrapped your legs around his waist, pulling him closer and arching into him. his hands went to your hips, holding you in place as he rocked against you, the friction causing a sharp gasp to escape your lips.

his lips left your neck, moving down to your collarbone, then further still to your chest. his tongue traced a line down your sternum, stopping at the valley between your breasts. he looked up at you, the fire in his eyes almost burning with intensity.

you bit your lip as his gaze met yours, feeling even more heat pooling in your core. he moved lower, his lips and hands continuing their exploration of your body. his tongue flicked over your nipple, causing you to gasp and arch into him.

he smiled against your skin, then continued his journey downwards. his mouth traced a trail of kisses down your stomach, his hands moving to spread your thighs wider. you could feel his breath against your skin, the heat and intensity of his gaze making you shiver with anticipation.

he settled himself between your legs, his fingers tracing small circles around your inner thighs, coming teasingly close to where you wanted him most. he looked up at you, his eyes dark with desire. "you're so beautiful." he whispered, his voice thick with emotion.

his words sent a ripple of pleasure through you, your body responding instantly to the sound of his voice. you reached down and tangled your fingers in his hair, trying to bring him closer, wanting to feel his touch where you needed it most.

he obliged, his tongue flicking out to taste you. your head fell back against the pillow, your breath catching in your throat at the sensation. he took his time, pleasuring you in slow, languid strokes until you were a quivering mess.

your body was on fire, the pleasure building quickly as he continued to lavish you with attention. your grip on his hair tightened, your hips arching against his mouth, begging without words for more. he hummed against you, the vibration sending another wave of pleasure through you.

his hands moved to your hips, holding you in place as he continued his ministrations. you were teetering on the edge, the pressure inside you building to a point where you were sure you would shatter at any moment.

he could sense how close you were, his pace and pressure increasing until you were whimpering and writhing beneath him, your body desperate for release. he lifted his head slightly, his lips grazing your skin. "look at me." he instructed, his voice deep and commanding.

you forced your eyes open, your vision slightly hazy from the pleasure coursing through you. you met his gaze, the raw hunger and desire you saw there making your heart skip a beat.

he held your gaze as he continued to pleasure you, his eyes locked onto yours. his lips curved into a small smile, as if he was enjoying the effect he was having on you. the intensity and intimacy of the moment was overwhelming, the connection between you stronger than ever.

the heat and tension in your body coiled tighter and tighter, building to a crescendo that you knew would be your undoing. you gripped onto him, your thighs trembling on either side of him as you felt yourself teetering on the brink.

he seemed to sense how close you were, his movements becoming more focused and intense. his grip on your hips tightened, holding you in place as he brought you closer and closer to the edge. "please," you gasped, your voice shaky with need, "i can't take it anymore."

he didn’t let up, his tongue and mouth continuing to work you until you were trembling and breathless. "just let go," he murmured, his voice soft and reassuring. "i’ve got you. i’m here."

his words were like a trigger, pushing you over the edge. your body convulsed, your vision going white as the most intense orgasm of your life ripped through you. your legs clamped around him, your fingers grasping at whatever they could find.

he stayed with you, holding you through the waves of pleasure that rolled over you. he didn’t let go, his hands gently rubbing your hips and thighs as you slowly came back down. his lips brushed against your skin, soft and tender, a stark contrast to the intensity of moments before.

you felt like you were floating, your body and mind blissfully adrift in a sea of pleasure. you could feel his body pressed against yours, his weight a comforting, anchoring presence. you reached down, grabbing his shoulders and pulling him up towards you, needing to feel his body closer to yours.

he was more than happy to oblige, his body covering yours once more as his lips met yours in a gentle, almost chaste kiss. he was still hard against you, the evidence of his own need for release pressing hot and heavy between you.

you felt a pang of guilt at the thought of him being left unsatisfied. you pushed against his shoulders, rolling him over and pinning him to the bed.

he looked at you with surprise and a hint of amusement, his hands coming up to rest on your hips. "what are you doing?" he asked, a lazy grin on his face.

you didn’t answer him, instead trailing kisses down his chest and stomach, your hands roaming over his skin. you were determined to return the favor, to bring him the same pleasure he had just given you.

his breathing grew heavier as you continued your journey downwards, your mouth moving over his abs and down to the sharp angle of his hipbones. you could feel his muscles tensing beneath your touch, the anticipation and arousal rolling off of him in waves.

you unbuckled his belt, fumbling with it as you did so. he reached down and helped you with the belt, his eyes dark as he watched you work the buttons of his pants open. he lifted his hips up, allowing you to pull his pants and underwear down, freeing him from the constraints of the fabric. he was hard and leaking pre-cum, the sight of him enough to make your mouth water. you looked up at him, your lips curving into a sly smile.

he chuckled, his hands moving to grip the sheets tightly as if he was bracing himself. "i want you to ride me.” he said, his voice strained with need. you hummed in agreement, positioning yourself over him. you braced your hands on his chest, lifting up slightly so that you were hovering above him.

he reached down, his hands going to your hips and guiding you down onto him. you both let out a moan as he filled you, the sensation almost overwhelming. you started to move, riding him slowly at first, getting used to the feel of him inside you again. his eyes were glued to you, his hands holding onto your hips as you rode him, his breath coming in short, sharp gasps.

you could feel the tension in his body, his muscles taut and tense as he fought to hold back his own release, wanting to stay with you as long as possible. he shifted himself up slightly, propping himself up on his elbows so that he could watch you more closely. his eyes roamed all over your body, taking in every detail, every shiver and twitch.

you could feel his gaze on you, and it only served to heighten the pleasure building inside you. you rode him harder, your hands grabbing onto his shoulders.

his fingers dug into the flesh of your hips, his grip almost painful as he struggled to maintain control. the sounds he was making were sinful, the low moans and gasps escaping his lips spurring you on. you could feel the pleasure building inside you, the friction and pressure almost too much.

he cursed under his breath, his head dropping back as the sensations overwhelmed him. "i can't hold on much longer," he panted out, his voice almost a growl.

you didn’t stop, riding him harder and faster, wanting to push him over the edge right along with you. his breathing was coming in harsh, ragged gasps, his body tensing beneath you as he was pushed closer and closer to the edge. he reached up, one hand gripping your hair and pulling you down to him, his lips finding yours in a rough, desperate kiss.

his movements became jerky and erratic, the kiss turning into more of a messy clash of teeth and tongue. you could feel him on the brink, the tension coiling tight inside him.

he pulled away from the kiss, his voice was ragged, "i’m gonna-" he didn't get to finish his sentence, his back arching off the bed as he finally let go, his release washing over him in powerful waves. you felt him shudder beneath you, his body trembling with the force of it as he came undone.

you rode him through it, your own body on the brink of release but not quite there yet. his eyes were closed, his head thrown back as he gasped for breath. he looked beautiful, completely undone by pleasure.

you slowed your movements, letting him come down from his orgasm. but you were still on the edge, your body aching for release. he must have realized this because his eyes fluttered open, meeting yours. his hands moved to your hips, his grip tight. "keep going," he commanded, his voice gruff.

"i want you to come." he said, his eyes locking onto yours, the intensity in them enough to make your toes curl. hearing those words from him was like fuel to the fire already burning inside you. you nodded, a small whimper escaping your lips.

you began to move again, riding him harder and faster. he held onto your hips, guiding your movements. his eyes were dark, his gaze smoldering as he watched you. the muscles in his jawline were tense, his expression one of pure desire.

you could feel yourself on the very edge now, the pleasure so intense it was almost painful. you were whimpering and shaking, your body taut like a bowstring. he could see how close you were and it only seemed to fuel him on. "come for me," he said, his voice little more than a growl.

those words were all you needed. the pleasure exploded inside you, rippling through your body in powerful waves. your back arched, your hands grabbing onto his wrists tightly as you rode out your orgasm. he held onto you, his eyes never leaving your face as he watched you come apart. his grip on your hips was firm, guiding you through the aftershocks until you collapsed on top of him.

both of you were panting and trembling, your bodies slick with sweat. he pulled you closer, his arms wrapping around you in a tight embrace. you buried your face into his chest, your body feeling boneless and sated.

he stroked your hair, his other hand tracing lazy paths up and down your spine. he held you like that for a few moments, both of you basking in the afterglow. "you're incredible," he murmured, his lips brushing against the top of your head.

you hummed in agreement, your eyelids feeling heavy as exhaustion started to set in. you were blissfully relaxed, every muscle in your body feeling like it had melted into his.

he shifted beneath you, rolling over so that he was lying on his side and pulling you along with him. he tucked you close against him, his body molding around yours like it was made to fit.

you were cradled in his embrace, your head resting on his chest. you could hear the steady thump of his heart beneath your ear, the sound soothing and calming. his hand continued to stroke your hair, fingers gentle and soothing.

he was quiet for a moment, just holding you, until he spoke again, his voice a quiet rumble. "i love you," he said, his lips pressing a gentle kiss against the top of your head.

hearing him say those words sent a rush of warmth through your chest, filling you with a sense of contentment. "i love you too." you replied, your voice soft and genuine.

he smiled, his eyes crinkling at the corners. he pulled you closer, wrapping his arms around you in a tight embrace. you snuggled into his chest, feeling warm and safe and utterly at peace.

you both lay like that for a while, content to just be close to each other. his breathing was steady and deep, the rise and fall of his chest lulling you into a sense of security. you could feel the last remnants of arousal ebbing away, replaced by a sense of comfort and closeness.

[annasfantasies]

Sugar 2

/alex turner x fem!reader

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Credits to the owners of the photos

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。..・。.・゜✭・.・

PART ONE

Pairing: the car!alex turner x fem!reader

Summery: the cute evening with Al turned into something more

Warnings: age gap (Alex 37 and reader 25), soft!dom Alex, clit play, spanking, praising kink, fingering (f receiving), p in w, fem nicknames (sugar, darling, pretty girl, baby, good girl) choking, ruined orgasm, blow job, unprotected sex, cream pie, aftercare

Word count: 2.2k

masterlist

ENGLISH ISN’T MY FIRST LANGUAGE

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。..・。.・゜✭・.・

"Couldn't stop thinking about you all day, darling."

I yelped as he smacked my ass, the burning sensation swiftly smoothed by the hand. "Alex!"

He chuckled not even bothered by my weight on his shoulder and continued caressing my ass. I huffed at his cockiness but that was quickly replaced by another yelp as his hand landed on me again.

I rolled my eyes and realised we were almost in our bedroom. In that moment I got an idea. I giggled and outstretched my hand. "What-" I interrupted him by my hand landing on his ass. He gasped but suddenly I was thrown on our bed. I looked up at Alex with a smirk on my lips. "What?" I asked innocently and fluttered my lashes on him.  He raised his eyebrows and put his hands on his hips. I didn't even realise I was biting my bottom lip until he broke the tension in the room.

"Playing innocent?" He titled his head slightly and shifted his weight to one leg.

"I have no idea what you're talking about." I smiled at him. I'm playing with fire, he will teach me how to behave later and I can't wait for the lesson.

I raised my leg and rested it right above the tent of his trousers. He looked down and then back at me, few brown locks of his hair fell into his face. Slowly I moved the leg lower and started rubbing against him while holding eye contact with him the whole time.

The fire in his eyes grew and I continued my teasing game. I could feel him harden below my foot but before I could say something about it, he slapped the leg away, bend down and turned my body on the bed. All I could do is gasp. He had already lifted my, well his white button up to reveal my ass covered in baby pink lace panties.

"So naughty, hm?" I could hear the smirk in his husky voice, he stroked my cheeks, kneading them with his big hands. I sucked in a sharp breath, my right asscheek was starting to hurt from the earliest slaps. "I asked you a question, love." He said with another smack against the skin. I made a noise which sounded like something between whine, moan and yelp and nodded. He chuckled and caressed me again. "Words, sugar."

I received another one. "Yes!" I moaned out the so wanted answer.

"Good girl." He praised me causing my walls to clench around nothing, I could feel my panties getting soaked. He leaned down and kissed the red and burning spots. I buried my face into the mattress and sucked a sharp breath in my lungs. "Sensitive, hm?"

"Yes." I whispered and bit my bottom lip. Suddenly he touched the wet spot between my legs with his thumb. I gasped but pushed against his finger. “Please."

He chuckled. "You think you deserve it?" He started slowly rubbing the wetness, moving lower to my clit. That made me whine loudly.

"Please, Alex." I whined again when he added more pressure and started rubbing quick cycles on it.

"Answer." He said firmly. I arched my back and pushed into his hand more.

"I do. I've been waiting for you all day and I made you cookies." I said, every now and then whimpering. I gathered the white sheets beneath me with my hands. "Please."

He chuckled and smacked my left cheek with his free hand. "Well, when you're asking so nicely."

Before I could beg more he pulled my ass in the air and slid my panties down my thighs just above my knees.

I could feel his stare on my bare pussy, the juices leaking down my lags. "Such a pretty view." He whispered lowly. His voice full of lust making me shiver and clench around nothing.

"Alex please." I rub my thighs against each other trying to get some relief.

He chuckled behind me and placed his palms on my asscheeks, squeezing them. I bucked back into his hands and whined.

His fingers slowly slid lower and lower until he was where I wanted and needed him. He spread my fold and I gasped when he blew air onto me. "Alex!"

He laughed again before sliding two finger between my fold, gathering the wetness and pulling away.

I sighted in frustration but was interrupted by a licking sound and Alex humming. "What-" I looked over my shoulder and saw Alex's fingers in his mouth. The walls of my insides clenched around nothing and the wetness ran down my lags yet again.

He looked angelic. His hair messy, eyes closed, lashes touching his rosy cheeks, lips wrapped around the fingers. Pure pleasure written all over his face.

I moaned which made him open his eyes. The eye contact was so intense and full of lust I bit into my bottom lip, Alex's dark eyes drifted to it and before I could say anything he grabbed me by my jaw and kissed me.

It wasn't sweet and cute like when he came home. No. It was want and neediness. I deepened it and opened my mouth, touching his lips by my tongue as a request for him to open his. He did and slid his tongue into my mouth, we fought for dominance, even though we both knew he is going to win.

He pulled away too soon, touching my forehead with his and panting. I closed my eyes and tried to catch my breath as well but was surprised by the now wet fingers quickly sliding into me.

I gasped and he pulled away, his hand sliding to the back of my head and burring me into the sheets. Alex slowly pulled almost all the way out before shoving into me again and deeper. I moaned his name loudly but was muffled by the sheets as he punched me more into it.

He continued to slide in and out, drawing loud moans and needy whines out of me. He occasionally slowed down to almost stoping making me beg. The room was full of wet sounds, my whines and Alex's praising. The pleasure I was feeling in my whole body started to be too much, the knot in my stomach tightening. "Aly! I'm gonna cum!" I screamed.

He moved his hand and wrapped it around my neck, squeezing me just right. I was almost there but just as I was about to finish he stoped everything and pulled away. My body shook as I groaned, sniffled and screamed, babbling things that weren't making sense. "No, no, no! Alex, please- I-"

He chuckled and smacked my red cheek again.

"You- you said that-"

"That was for the slap you gave me." I heard him stand up rustling with something. "Sit up." He ordered. I pulled my self up onto my knees before turning around and sitting on the edge of our bed. I looked up at him with my best puppy eyes I could do, my cheeks probably red as apples and glossed with tears.

He put a lock of my hair behind my ear and stroked my cheek, wiping the tears away. "So pretty." He smiled at me. He pulled down his already unzipped trousers, I helped him pull them down past his knees before sliding my palms back up to his black boxers. I bit my lip when I saw the outline of his cock. I took him out and almost moaned. He was big and thick with a vein going all the way up from the bottom to the pinky head. Even though I saw and took him multiple times it will always make me nervous.

I looked him in the eyes asking for permission. "Go on, pretty girl."

That was all I needed before taking him in my hand. He twitched and the pre cum dripped down his length. I started to stroke him and spreading the wetness, brushing my thumb agains his tip and squeezing him every time nearing it.

Alex was releasing breath groans and small moans. He put his hands at the back of my head and pulled me to him. "Need your mouth." Was all he said.

I smiled at him while holding eye contact and opened my mouth, slowly lowering my head until he was touching me. I took the tip in and sucked onto him. He groaned and pushed ma head until he hit the back of my throat causing me to gag. "So warm, baby." He threw his head back moaning out loud my name. "So good."

I started moving my mead, slowly speeding up. I stroke the rest of him that didn’t fit into my mouth, squeezing him and playing with his balls. He pulled onto my hair which made me moan. He started bucking his hips back into me, hitting the back of my throat. He let out more whimpers and praises. There was starting to form a wet patch underneath me and saliva running down my chin.

"Fuck! You're so good, such a good girl." He rasped out, the end of the sentence turned into another high pitched moan. I clenched my thighs trying to get some kind of release.

I felt him twitch agains my tongue meaning he is close. I bumped my head faster and took him even deeper. I don't care I can barely breath, I want him to cum, I want to taste him.

Without another warning the hot drops of his cum shoot into me. The taste and sounds of his the only thing I can focus on. I continued my movements until he stoped me. I released him from my warmth with a pop and saliva connecting us.

He sighed and took my jaw. "Open up." I obeyed and sticked out my tongue covered in the liquid. He smirked and stroked my red cheek. "Swallow." Were his next commands. I did as he said, looking into his eyes the whole time. I opened again to show him, hoping he will reward me. “Good girl.” He nodded and squeezed my cheeks.

“I think you deserve it now.”

I nodded, desperately wanting him inside me already, needing him. “Please.” My voice was hoarse from earlier activities.

He bend down to be face to face with me and took my neck into his hand again. His lips crushed into mine, both of us moaning, our tongues fighting yet again. He pushed me onto my back and got on top of me. My hand flew into his brown locks, pulling onto them.

We moved back until I was resting on the fluffy pillows. Alex squeezed the sides of my neck, drawing a whine out of me. Unfortunately he pulled away and moved to my neck, sucking and nibbling on the skin, trying to leave new mark. The last ones were already fading.

I gasped when his teeth sank into me. The sensation becoming overpowering but in a pleasing way.

Another gasp left me when I felt the head of his cock sliding between me folds, gathering wetness before going to the entrance. He looked at me silently asking me, I nodded and he finally slid in.

His thickness stretching me out even after I took him countless times. I will never get used to him and I’m loving it. When he was finally in I was feeling full and completed. He waited a minute before pulling almost all the way out and then pushing back in and even deeper.

As he was moving and letting his beautiful sounds out into the crook of my neck, I was releasing my on. The room was full of cries of pleasure and wet noises.

“Taking me so well, sugar. So good for me, as always.” He rasped out and kissed me hard, pouring his love into it and I tried my best to return it. He pulled away and rested his forehead against mine, holding me close.

I started feeling the familiar feeling and pressed him by my legs just above his ass, trying to make him go faster and deeper. He understood and did as I desired, moved his hand between our bodies and touching my center. He started massaging me and before I knew it was tripping over the edge. “I’m cummin-“

“Me too, baby. Me too.” Was all he said before filling me up with loud groan.

He laid on top of me as we panted, trying to catch our breathes and holding each other in our arms.

“You did so good, my love.” He broke the silence and kissed my cheeks and forehead. “I love you.”

I smiled at him and stroked his cheek. “I love you too, handsome.”

He placed a soft kiss on his on my lips before pulling out and getting up. His cum dripping out of me and on the sheets. He disappeared into a bathroom that is connected to the bedroom. I undressed myself completely and when he came back he was holding a wet towel. He got between my legs and cleaned me and then tucked me in the bed, placing another kiss on my face.

He left to clean himself too and came back in new pair of underwear before sliding into the bed with me. He wrapped his arms around me, bringing me as close as possible and burring his face in my hair.

I hid myself in his chest, letting his warmth and scent swallow me.

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。..・。.・゜✭・.・

A/N: first time writing smut in English so I hope it’s readable😐 please let me know if you find any mistakes or anything!

Feedback is always welcome💗 don’t forget to leave a comment or I you are shy you can send an anonymous text‼️

[doctor-dusk]

𝐛𝐚𝐛𝐲, 𝐰𝐞 𝐨𝐮𝐠𝐡𝐭 𝐭𝐨… 𝐟𝐮𝐜𝐤 | 𝐚𝐥𝐞𝐱 𝐭.

what would a musician be without his inspiring muse? 

warnings: soft dom!alex, smut, oral (both receiving), bit of anal playing, spitting, unprotected sex (piv). i think that's all, folks.

word count: 4.1k

i wrote most of this last year on a crowded bus on my way back from college, an old lady gave me a dirty look, but it's worth it. probably the dirtiest smut i've ever written so far because i was bored with my job today. hope you enjoy it :3

you had just gotten out of the shower. the skin of your shoulders and chest was still wet and the scent of grapefruit soap still perfumed the bathroom when you left the room amid a thin curtain of steam from the warm water. alex found it funny that you loved warm showers, even though it was almost forty degrees outside. you were wrapped in a dark gray cotton bathrobe, your hair was wrapped in a towel of the same color and you were drying your face with a white face towel. 

you noticed that alex was in exactly the same position since the last glimpse you had of him before entering the bathroom. he was sitting in a position that was not very comfortable visually speaking, wearing only moss green cargo shorts. his head was resting on his right hand, which held a pencil with a worn tip between his fingers, while his left hand was busy with a half-smoked cigarette, which released a thin curtain of smoke that escaped through the open window in front of him, his guitar resting on his lap, untouchable. 

he had been staring at the page of his notebook for almost twenty minutes. there were a few scribbles on the corners, loose words, but nothing that formed a sentence, much less something that made sense to him.

you tilted your head to see his face, seeing that his eyes were closed now, his hair, which was usually combed back, falling over his forehead, with some of the ends of the strands tickling his lowered eyelids. you gave a weak smile, hanging the face towel on the window and standing behind him, taking advantage of the exposed left side of his neck to give him a little kiss.

‘’what's up, huh?’’ you asked, giving him another little kiss and feeling his skin shiver with the contact of your lips.

‘’it’s all crap.’’ he grumbled, dropping the pencil on the table and straightening his posture, feeling you raise your hands to massage his shoulders. ‘’you know when you really want to write something, you have the idea in your head, but you just…’’ he said, his tone frustrated as he held the guitar. you knew alex well enough to know that he already felt this way before you even asked. you knew his frown, his sullen voice, his strong drag on his cigarette as if he were breathing the air with anger, and maybe he was.

‘’i know.” you answered in an understanding tone, letting your fingers massage the tense and stiff muscles in his shoulders. “but you’ll make it, you always do. you have a mini genius inside you who can think of the most incredible lyrics in the world in the blink of an eye.” you continued encouraging him, lightly tapping his forehead, watching him shake his head subtly.

“well, guess what: this genius is probably on vacation and i didn’t know about it.” turner replied. for a second, you liked to think that alex really did have a miniature of himself in his head, and that at the moment he was just wearing a pair of swim trunks while sunbathing on some paradisiacal beach on the italian coast. “or he must have died, i don’t know.” he finished with another mumble, leaving the guitar leaning against the wall next to it, standing upright and without any risk of falling.

‘’oh, you're so dramatic, turner.’’ you laughed, dragging his last name because of your accent. ‘’you just need some time. maybe relax. you demand too much of yourself.’’

“you know i've always been like this.” he replied, taking one last drag of his cigarette before putting it out by rubbing the butt on the wooden window frame. you've lost count of how many marks there were on the window frame from rubbing the butts of his cigarettes, but you never complained to him.

alex picked up the pencil again, pressing the end of the eraser to his cheek, glancing at the moment you walked around the chair, making a little space to sit on his lap. he felt the scent of the soap a little more intensely on your body, especially when you wrapped both arms around his neck.

alex liked it when you did that without warning, and you liked it even more. you liked the way he wrapped his long arms around you, letting his big hand wander around your waist, following the path further south and leaving it positioned on the warm skin of your left thigh, gently patting it in a caressing manner.

even though he was stuck in his little musical world, he didn't stop giving you the attention you deserved, even if it was just a little. but you knew he wouldn't be able to do anything now, not being so tense.

you had an idea, laying your head on top of his head, since the position you were in favor of the fact that you were sitting a little higher on his lap. you smelled the faint scent of shampoo in his hair, sliding your nose over his scalp, going down a little to kiss his temple, and then his cheek, and then his jaw. you kissed him as far as your mouth could reach, feeling his skin in contact with your lips and feeling the muscle in his cheek contract as he gave a small smile.

‘’what do you think you're doing, huh?’’ he asked, tilting his head a little to the left so he could look at you, but you were more focused on continuing to trail your kisses down his body, each kiss going down proportionally to the point that you had to get off his lap to get between his legs. ‘’you're distracting me, y’know?’’ he pretended to grumble in protest, but you knew him well enough to know that he was far from angry or bored by the fact that you were doing this.

“that's the intention.” you answered with a slightly muffled voice because you were kissing his belly now, letting your fingers slide over the skin of his abdomen in a slowly torturous way to reach the button of his shorts. not even if alex wanted to, he would be able to hide the shiver he felt with this simple act.

“you're crazy.” he laughed, now lightly nibbling the eraser on the tip of the pencil, his eyes not leaving your figure kneeling in front of him for even a second. it was almost majestic for him to see you like that, at an angle he loved, by the way.

“for you? of course.” he heard you retort in the same tone, feeling you unbutton his shorts and lower the zipper with one hand, while the other was resting on his knee. “but you like it.”

“i didn’t say i didn’t like it.” he said, dropping the pencil on the desk at the exact moment your hand reached the hem of his underwear, letting your fingers curl around the elastic to threaten to pull it down.

but you did it so slowly that it actually hurt him. by now, he was already throbbing just at the thought of feeling your hand wrap around him, or feeling your tongue play with the tip, or simply feeling every inch of him burying himself inside you. it awakened unbearable agony in him.

“you're such a twat.” he said through gritted teeth, squeezing the edge of the desk with his fingers. you raised an eyebrow as you feigned offense, threatening to stop. ‘’no, no, love, i didn't mean that, it's just…’’ he said in a frustrated tone with himself, watching you laugh and lower the piece again enough for his cock to practically jump out.

you saw how impossibly hard he was, with some veins marked all over his length, from the base to the beginning of the tip, which by the way was already merely lubricated with precum. it seemed to be calling your name, totally ready to let you wrap your hand around it and swallow it to the last inch, whether with your mouth or with your cunt.

you didn't waste time, you were as eager as he was. your tongue slid deliciously over the tip, tasting him and watching him suck in air forcefully between his teeth. it was as addictive and tasty as the sight you had of him, feeling his hand grab the back of your head, guiding your swollen lips to start swallowing him slowly.

as much as he had that urgency to see you choke on his cock, he could be content with feeling your warm mouth envelop the tip, your delicate hand stayed around the base, pumping slowly and gently and holding it firmly to make him erect as he entered more on your mouth. 

turner was already starting to feel the slight spasms with the vibration of your throat on his cock when you let out a muffled moan. he’s not the kind of guy who is a fan of advance warnings, because when you least expected it, you felt him bucking his hips, making you feel him deep in your throat, which made you cough. he moaned shamelessly when you pulled your head away to get some air, playing with his tip with your tongue, giving it kittenish licks from every possible angle before putting him back in my mouth, swallowing him again without him having to move again.

“oh, so fucking good…” he groaned, letting his head fall back, delighting in the feeling of your warm mouth wrapping around his cock, taking him deeper, feeling your throat closing around the tip. he felt his senses overwhelmed, every fiber of his body contracting as your tongue swirled around his pulsing length.

he looked down at you at some point, your eyes locked on his, he couldn't even try to explain how crazy he went when you looked at him like this, hypnotizing him with your warm mouth and enigmatic eyes, wide like cherry pies.

“such a good girl for me. you're going to make me want to put composition aside to fuck you.” he growled, his fist closing around the towel wrapped on your head.

“you say that like it's a bad thing.’’ you pouted, kissing his tip several times and he chuckled, moving his hand to run his thumb on your cheek, looking tenderly at you.

“baby, you know i love fucking you. really.” he purred, holding his cock and gesturing for you to open your mouth, tapping his shaft on your tongue, the slapping sound adding to the pleasure of both. ‘’love feeling your mouth, your tongue, your pussy clenching around my cock…’’ he continued, his words sending slight jolts of lust through your body. he always knew what to say to make you even wetter.

‘’mhm, so we should fuck, y'know?’’ you said, swirling your tongue around his tip, your eyes pleading for him. you said that like you hadn't already fucked that morning.

‘’we should.’’ he agreed with you, pulling the towel from your head, massaging your scalp, the damp strands of your hair tangled in his fingers. ‘’stand up and turn around.’’ he said in a gentle order, patting your neck lightly.

you giggled, obeying him without a second thought, standing up and turning on your heels, the open window overlooking the deserted street was all you had. could there be people passing by or neighbors who might appear at their apartment windows at any moment? possibly.

but you didn't care much about that as you felt alex untying the knot of your robe while standing behind you, you could feel his hard cock rubbing against your thigh as he made you bend over the desk, your bare tits pressing on top of his notebook. the rough paper pages combined with alex's hands holding the hem of your robe makes your nipples harden, the cotton fabric reached halfway down your back, your lower body exposed to him like a full meal.

“you smell so good.” he hummed, dragging his nose over the skin of your left buttock as if he were snorting coke, your soft skin and your refreshing post-shower scent made him want to melt all over you. he was completely crazy about you.

“it's because i took a shower.” you laughed, feeling his teeth sinking into your skin as if he wanted to take a bite, and he would do that if he could. he could devour you and not waste a thing.

“nah. just your natural scent. and a bit of grapefruit.” he hummed, his large hands gripping your buttcheeks, separating them to reveal your two puckering holes, your cunt already drooling, needing him to take care of it.

his mouth watered at the sight as his cock throbbed in need. he didn't think twice or wait for you to beg for him, his tongue was already darting out to taste you, collecting your slimy juices, feeling that his guts were being blessed by your taste, like a sweet nectar.

you gasped softly, your forehead resting on the rigid wood desk, his tongue molding between your slick folds as the tip of his nose tickled your asshole, making it gap at the slightest touch. the wet muscle made its way upwards, sinking into your needy hole, going as far as he could, holding your buttocks tightly to keep them apart.

you muffled your moans as he fucked you with his tongue, biting your arm to prevent some loud moaning. his tongue moved up just a bit, licking your perineum just to tease your tight hole, circling the spot with the tip of his tongue, making you squirm.

“too bad we're out of lube.” he sighed, more to himself than to you. he knew you still could try it just like this, lubricating you with lots of spit and stretch you with his fingers until you were relaxed enough to accommodate his cock, but he didn't want to risk hurting you and consequently never wanting to try again. 

you chuckled softly, remembering that you're indeed out of lube. alex ended up overdoing it last time because he felt like it was never enough. or maybe he just liked to see how easily he could fuck you from behind, seeing how his cock disappeared inside your hole that was tighter and warmer than your pussy.

“maybe next time?” you suggested, feeling the tip of his tongue threatening to enter, the sensation almost overwhelming you. 

“yeah. i'll remember to buy the whole supply of lube next time i stop by the drugstore.” he said, giving you one last lick, one of his hands went down to stroke his cock lightly, he was hard as a rock at this point, aching to be inside you. his internal struggle with music could wait a bit.

alex's right hand spread your right ass cheek while his left hand guided his cock to your entrance, playing a bit with you, his tip threatening to enter, making a small “pop” when he pulled back. you were about to complain about it, but your unspoken words disappeared when he eased inside you, his thick cock filling every space as if it was molded especially for you.

“oh fuck, yes…” you gasped, your hands closing into fists on the edges of the desk, your knuckles turning white as he bottomed out slowly, pulling back until he saw his tip, slamming back inside your cunt again.

“fucking love this pussy, did i tell you that already?” he groaned, lifting your leg so you could bend more on the desk, allowing him to bury his cock deeper inside your clenching walls. 

“everyday.” you said. you almost smiled at the thought if he wasn't picking up his pace gradually, your mind and body filled by him and only him. his fingers gripping the flesh of your ass cheeks, leaving a red mark upon their wake. 

alex collected a small amount of saliva on his mouth, angling his head to spat directly on your asshole, watching how it slided, coating his cock as he moved in and out of you at a frantic pace, the desk hitting the wall with each violent thrust. 

he couldn't help but brought his thumb there, circling the tight ring teasingly, threatening to go in a little bit more and more, until the tip of his thumb went through, stretching you just a little, but it was enough to make you gasp and clench more around him.

“do you like that, hmm? do you like having your holes filled by me?" he growled when he reached your ear, his thumb sinking deeper into your hole until his knuckle, making you squirm even more, whining in pleasure as you nodded, the idea of letting him take you from behind like this didn't sound so bad even with the lack of lube. “dirty little thing.”

you brought your hand to your clit, your eager fingers trying to build the pleasure faster as your body heated up, like there's an inferno inside you. but no, it was alex. just alex.

alex notices your subtle moves between your legs, his thumb abandoning your gaping hole to grab your wrist, pinning it behind your back, holding it tightly with his other free hand.

“no. only i can do this.” he said, his voice sounding demanding and authoritative despite the husky tone. it wasn't like you couldn't touch yourself, but he loved the idea of touching you, of being the only reason you're completely destroyed after he's done with you. he wanted to be everything to you and do everything for you.

your hand was replaced by his, his fingers already coated with your wetness when he rubbed against your folds, feeling the outline of his cock sliding in and out of you, filling you to the brim and even making you stand on the tip of your toes.

“a-alex, i'm gonna cum, please…” you panted, almost passing out, he was taking you so hard, like he was angry or frustrated with you. yeah, he was frustrated, but not with you. never with you.

“yeah, i know, baby.” he whispered, rubbing your clit sloppily because of the position, but still making you go crazy with his movements, hitting that sweet spot inside you over and over again, determined to reduce you to a crying mess as you came on his cock and your body collapses onto the desk. 

in no time, the feeling of orgasm hits you hard, your whole body lost all strength and you felt the knot in your stomach undoing abruptly, your breath completely disappearing for a few seconds, replaced by a moan that was almost a scream.

contrary to what you thought, he didn't stop there. firstly, you didn't even know why you thought he would stop. he never stops after your first orgasm.

he flipped you over, slipping out of you just to fill you up again, not even giving you time to open your eyes to look at him, forcing your sore pussy to accommodate his veiny and angry cock once again.

“too cockdrunk already?” he smirks at your wrecked state, making you rest your calves on his shoulders. you didn't even need to answer him, even because you could barely form coherent words.

he continued at the same intensity while you tried to escape because you were already crying and didn't know if you could handle the overstimulation he was giving you, your legs wobbly like jelly failing on his sides, being supported by his forearms since his hands were gripping your thighs, preventing you from running away or closing your legs.

“come for me again, darlin’. i know you can do it.” alex said to you, his voice sounding like a rough melody as his face came close to yours, placing kisses along your jaw. 

and again, another orgasm consumed you in a much more intense way, your cervix hurt and you felt that you're so aroused and wet that it was already running down your legs as you cried out.

“so pretty.” he praised you, his index finger strolling through your half-open lips, passing through them and entering your mouth, pressing on your tongue. “wider.” he commanded, putting more pressure on your tongue with his finger, forcing you to open your mouth wider.

he took his finger out of your mouth, squeezing your face with his firm hand as he spat inside your mouth, hitting your tongue and the back of your throat. it didn't catch you by surprise, actually. it just turned you on, even if you were already at the height of your sensitivity.

“swallow.” he tapped your cheek, allowing you to swallow it without even thinking, opening your mouth and sticking your tongue out just to show him that you did it. “good fucking girl.” he said proudly, his cock twitching at your submissive side, teetering the edge. “fuck, 'm gonna cum, baby. where do you want?”

“inside me.” you answered without thinking twice. it wasn't like you didn't like it when he came on your face or in your mouth or on your tits. but you liked the primal feeling of him spilling all his cum inside you. he chuckled darkly.

“greedy. want my cum all to yourself?” he asked and you nodded, finding the strength to lock your legs around him as he picked up his pace slightly, chasing his own release after making you cum twice. 

“you know that i love it when you fill me up.” you whispered, propping yourself up on your elbows to reach his bottom lip, nibbling it gently as he grabbed you, holding you close as his head sank into the curve of your neck.

“oh fuck, f-fuck…” he choked on his own words as he came inside you, spilling jets his seed deep inside your cunt to the point that it leaked out, staining your legs and your bathrobe. “jesus fucking…” he paused, catching his breath as the last remnants leave his body to fill you. “christ.”

you finally could let your body dismantle on the desk, your head resting on the window sill, your blurry vision trying to get used to the view of the blue sky on that particularly sunny afternoon. 

“you good?” he asked you, still buried deep inside you, giving you sweet kisses along your stomach. 

“always good with you.” you smiled at him when he reached your chest, resting his head on your left boob, listening to the rapid beating of your heart. 

“you just gave me an idea, y'know?” he whispered to you, his warm and ragged breathing tickling your skin. “my beautiful inspiring muse. don't know what would become of me without you.”

“you flatter me.” you chuckled, running your hand through his messy hair, his sweaty scalp moistened the tips of your fingers. 

“just telling the truth.” he chuckled along with you, his pretty and wide eyes looking at you in awe. “i love you.” he whispered again, as if he was sharing a secret that only you needed to know.

you looked back at him, taking the sight of his face so close to yours. you were looking at him with that loving gaze while you felt the blood flow increase in your veins because your heart was beating too fast. but it was impossible not to have that feeling when looking at his slightly contorted mouth as he absentmindedly bit the inside of his cheek, his cheekbones were flushed and his eyes again took on that slightly greenish brown hue when the light reflected off them in that underexposure of colors that matched the ebony of his hair unruly now without the hair gel.

yeah, you loved him too.

“i love you too.” you answered him, seeing the smile forming on his lips, the corners of his eyes getting a bit wrinkly. you loved these little features of him. 

he leaned in to kiss you, his body moved and consequently his soft cock slipped out of you, you both groaning softly at the disconnection. but the kiss made it better. 

“i’ll have to take another shower.” you mumbled between his lips when you felt his cum running out of you, running down your thighs. he chuckled, it wasn't like you're complaining, much less that he had regretted it. “when will you work on your idea?”

he pretended to think, his lips still sealed in yours.

“after the shower.” he blowed some air inside your mouth like he was inflating a balloon. you laughed, rolling your eyes. he always played these stupid pranks on you, but you loved it. 

“will you join me?" you asked with raised eyebrows.

“only if you have me.” 

you didn't have to answer him.

[roxabellas]

Heaven Tonight

｡･:*:･ﾟ༓･*˚⁺‧͙ﾟ+..｡*ﾟ+˚୨୧⋆｡˚ ⋆ₓ˚. ୭ ˚○◦˚.˚₊✩｡˚☽

word count : 1957

warnings : cockwarming, unprotected sex, wet dream, sleep sex, dom!reader sub!alex (in dream), creampie

The faint whisper of the gentle breeze and the distant sound of the occasional car driving past were muffled as Alex shut your bedroom windows for the night. He crawled into the cool bedsheets next to you, the duvet draped lazily over your tangled bodies, the warmth and intimacy all-encompassing as he settled behind you, his chest pressed firmly against your back. The short, twiddly hairs on his chest always gave you a sense of comfort; the subtle scrape of them against your soft skin whenever he shifted slightly, reminding you that he's right there. He looped his strong arms around your waist tightly, the slightly raised inked skin from his Yorkshire Rose tattoo on his forearm pressing against your stomach as he held you.

Your body curved into his in a way that felt effortless, as if you were made to be held by him. He pressed a kiss to the back of your head, holding his face there for a moment as he breathed in the sweet smell of your honey-scented shampoo, before dipping his head into the crook of your neck, burying his face there. His lips brushed a few lazy kisses over your nape and jawline, another silent promise of deep love and comfort.

His right hand slowly moved down your torso as he continued with his languid kisses, gently slotting his fingers between your thighs and parting them just enough for him. The soft trail of kisses on the side of your neck stopped just as his fingers began rubbing lazy circles on your clit through your underwear, a small smile playing on his lips as he felt the slight damp spot in the centre. You let out a small exhale through your nose, somewhere between a laugh and a moan. “What're you doing?” you hummed, shifting slightly to give him better access.

Alex let out a low, content hum, not answering your question and instead murmuring, “Want to keep me warm, babe?”

“Mhm, please…” you drawled, your voice a soft mutter as he slowly slid your cotton knickers down your long legs before shuffling out of his own grey boxer shorts, tossing both the pieces of fabric aside onto the floor, quickly forgotten as he lifted your leg just enough to slip his half-hard cock inside your slick, inviting pussy. You sighed softly at the familiar feeling, the way the stretch was always so delicious no matter how many times you'd done this before, while he groaned as your muscles instinctively clenched around his thick length in welcome.

It wasn't about the sex; it never was when you did this. It was more about the intimacy, the closeness, the comfort that it brought you both from being connected in that way as you slept.

Even though it was usually just about the connection, it didn't stop the occasional teasing. You let out a little snicker as you clenched around him a few more times, and he huffed a laugh against your neck. “Behave, you,” he muttered, though his tone lacked any real bite. He gave your hip a light squeeze, pulling you back a bit closer against him before pressing one last kiss to your neck.

You fell into a comfortable silence, your breathing slowly syncing up as your bodies settled together, his right arm draped over your waist, fingers tracing absent patterns over your ribcage. “Goodnight, Al,” you whispered, your voice soft and warm as the sound of his gentle breathing and the slow pulse of his cock inside you lulling you to sleep.

“Goodnight, love,” he replied, his voice low and steady as he slowly drifted off. With that, you both let sleep claim you, tangled up together.

The room was still, bathed in the soft glow of the moonlight filtering through the blinds, painting pale lines across the opposite wall. Your breathing was steady as sleep held you both locked tightly in its quiet embrace. You lay snugly against him, your body a perfect fit against his as his arms stayed looped around your waist, holding you close as his soft exhales brushed against the back of your neck as his forehead stayed pressed against the back of your hair.

As the night deepened, Alex's mind began to wander, slipping into a vivid dream. You were straddling his hips, your movements tantalisingly slow as you rocked back and forth against his length. His tip pressed against the soft skin just above his belly button as your wet folds glided up and down the velvety underside of his cock, your teasing grin combined with your torturous movements melting him into a puddle of need. You were perched over him like a goddess, your hands resting on his strong chest, giving his nipple an occasional pinch or twist as you ground your hips back and forth slowly and deliberately.

“Is this what you wanted?” you asked in the dream, your voice like a soft melody. It was like hearing your voice through a veil, so close to how he remembered it. The words had the same warmth, same rhythm, but it felt strangely hollow. Like it wasn't fully real.

Alex could only nod, his dream-self captivated and all-encompassed. You weren't letting him inside you, just sliding your slick heat up and down along his dick, your teasing driving him closer to the edge. His hands itched to grab your hips, to push you down onto his aching cock the way he so desperately needed, but every time he tried to give in to his urges and reach up to your hips, you batted his hands away with a mocking laugh. “Not yet,” you teased, giving his left nipple a twist. “You'll take what I give you, Al.”

In the real world, in your bed, his body responded unconsciously. His cock was still nestled deep inside you from behind, and his arms tightened slightly around your waist as his hips instinctively began to shift, lazily grinding against your ass. A quiet, soft whimper escaped his lips, almost inaudible in the stillness of your bedroom.

In his dream, you leaned down, threading your hands through his messy hair, sweat-drenched hair as you kissed him hungrily. Your grinding picked up pace, your clit drawing lines up and down his thick cock, the friction pushing him closer and closer to a release he didn't know if he'd be able to reach. His desperation grew, the need to be inside you getting stronger and all-consuming.

Back in bed, his movements became more pronounced. His hips rolled against you in slow, rhythmic, shallow thrusts, his cock twitching and pulsing inside you with each sleepy thrust. His breathing quickened, short puffs brushing against the crook of your neck, but still, neither of you stirred.

Dream-you was relentless, keeping him right on the brink of the release he so deeply craved. “You're such a good boy for me, Al,” you cooed, your voice laced with teasing. “But not yet, baby. You can hold on for me. I know you can.”

His frustration in the dream translated into his even deeper urgency in real life. His thrusts grew firmer, his hips pressing more insistently against you as he humped you subconsciously, chasing the pleasure that his mind conjured in sleep. The warmth of your body against his, both in the dream and in real life, only amplified his need, his sleepy groans muffled against the soft skin your neck.

Finally, in the dream, you gave in. You sank down onto his aching, throbbing cock with a smirk, and the overwhelming sensation of your warm, wet pussy enveloping him shattered every ounce, though there was very little, of restraint he had left. His dream blurred into the real-life sensations, the vividness fading and bleeding into reality as his orgasm tore through him like a freight train.

In bed, his body tensed, and his movements stuttered, his arms loosening before tightening around you again as he came deep inside you, his cock pulsing with each spurt of his release. His breathing slowly evened out as he came down from his wet dream-induced orgasm, his face pressed into the crook of your neck as he drifts back deeper into sleep, both of you completely unaware of what had just happened.

You remained undisturbed, still sound asleep, your body warm and pliant against his as his softening cock kept his cum inside your pussy. The room returned to its previous stillness, the only sounds being your steady breathing and the occasional gentle rustle of the sheets as you both adjusted your positions in slumber.

The warm sun began filtering through the blinds, replacing the glow of the moonlight from the night before, the morning light casting rays across your cream-coloured bedroom wall. You stirred first, stretching slightly but careful not to disturb the warm, comforting weight of Alex's arm draped over your waist. You first felt him shift behind you, his chest pressed against your back, and as your consciousness started to seep in, you became aware of the sticky warmth between your thighs, and the unmistakable sensation of wetness inside you.

You propped yourself up on your side, looking over your shoulder behind you at where you were still joined. “Alex,” you murmured, your voice thick with sleep. His eyes fluttered open lazily, his eyebrows knitting together as he squinted, the bright morning light briefly stinging his eyes.

“Morning,” He mumbled, his voice gravelly with sleep. The grogginess soon faded away as he noticed the faint smirk tugging at the corners of your lips. “What?”

Your smirk widened and you shifted again, subtly clenching your muscles around him. He was still inside you, and his cock gave a sleepy twitch in response. “Alex…” you said, dragging out his name teasingly, “did you…?”

His brain started to slowly catch up, and that's when he felt the warm stickiness inside her. His face flushed immediately. “No,” he denied it quickly, but the redness creeping up his neck to his cheeks said otherwise. And so did the cum inside you.

You laugh, shifting your hips and making his cock slip out of you, a small stream of his cum dripping onto your thigh. “You did!” you teased, turning onto your other side to face him, your fingers tracing patterns on his chest. “You had a wet dream.”

“I didn’t,” he protested weakly, though the evidence was right there. He quickly averted his gaze, suddenly very focused on the pattern of the duvet cover.

“You so did!” you let out a laugh, your tone playful rather than accusatory. “You actually had a wet dream.”

Alex groaned, burying his face in his hands. He sat up slightly, his back resting against the wooden headboard. “God, stop saying it like that.”

“What was it about?” You asked, rolling onto your stomach and resting your chin in your hands. “Was I in it?”

He pulled his hands from his face, resting them in his lap as he looked down at you. “Of course you were,” he said, the redness fading from his cheeks. “You were grinding on me, that's pretty much all it was.”

You raised your eyebrows a little bit. “Just grinding on you? That's it?”

He ran a hand through his messy, tousled hair, leaning his head back against the vertical wooden slats of the headboard as he looked up at the off-white coloured ceiling. “Yeah, but you weren't letting me put it in.”

“Yeah, well…” he rested his hands behind his head, crossing his legs lazily at his ankles. “You make it bloody hard not to.”

She smiled, her eyes crinkling at the corners as she gazed at him. “I can't believe you still have wet dreams,” she teased, her voice soft but filled with amusement.

｡･:*:･ﾟ༓･*˚⁺‧͙ﾟ+..｡*ﾟ+˚୨୧⋆｡˚ ⋆ₓ˚. ୭ ˚○◦˚.˚₊✩｡˚☽

ive been wanting to write fics for so long but ive rarely been able to find the time to write any (which is why it's so short😭) but ive been working on this (thinking about it but not actually writing it) for a while. when i first had the idea i imagined it with fetus instead but then i wrote the first part and realised he obviously wouldn't have the tattoo then, so i guess this can be any time post 2013(?). i also know this probably isn't great, just close your eyes and pretend it isn't there x

[goblinontour]

Dublin In Ecstasy

you meet him in a pub…you end up painted by him

series masterlist

warnings: dom!al, smut, oral (m receiving), unprotected sex, semi-public, piv, spanking (a bit), the word ‘daddy’ (once), alcohol, weed, blood, drool

word count: 5k

Dublin, 2018

The Dublin air was thick with the sounds of laughter and clinking glasses as you stepped into the pub. It was the third one of the night, and already it felt like the right place to be. The interior was a mix of all different voices, the kind of comforting chaos that only a place like this could offer. You walked through the groups of people, each step filling you with a sense of excitement. It was nights like these that made your impromptu trip worth every penny.

Reaching the bar, you leaned in, trying to catch the bartender’s eye when a figure suddenly crashed into your peripheral vision. He almost collided with you, stopping himself just in time with his arms braced on the bar’s edge. His breath came in heavy, excited bursts, clearly having indulged in what a night like this had to offer. He ordered a round of drinks in a voice that cut through the noise, confident and commanding. Your eyes widened slightly as you took him in.

He was dressed pretty simple, but he didn’t need any more than that. A tight shirt, unbuttoned scandalously low, revealing glimpses of a chiselled chest. A black leather jacket hung casually over his shoulders, and his tight-fitting pants left little to the imagination. But it was his face that truly captivated you. The buzzcut he sported highlighted his sharp features, his cheekbones catching the dim, ambient light. A slight sheen of sweat glistened on his skin, giving him an effortless perfection. He was hot. Really hot.

You couldn't help but stare, your gaze tracing the angles of his face, the curve of his jaw, the intensity in his eyes as he surveyed the crowd, completely oblivious to your presence. It felt like time had slowed, every detail of his face imprinting itself in your mind.

Eventually, he glanced over, catching you in the act, red-handed. There was no denying as to what you were doing. A smirk played on his lips, his eyes locking onto yours with an intensity that made your heart skip a beat.

“Enjoying the view?” he asked, his voice smooth and laced with slight amusement.

You felt a flush rise to your cheeks but met his gaze steadily. “Just admiring the scenery.” you replied, matching his playful challenge.

He laughed, a deep, rich sound that seemed to resonate through the chaos around you. “Alex.” he introduced himself, extending a hand.

You took it, feeling the warmth of his skin against yours. “Nice to meet you, Alex.”

“Sooo…” he started, his voice turning like a singsong, clearly enjoying the state of his intoxication at the moment, “What brings you to Dublin?”

“Exploring, meeting new people, trying out all the different pubs…getting drunk.” you said with a shrug. “And you?”

“Same.” he said, his eyes twinkling with mischief. “Though I suppose I’m a bit more familiar with the scene.”

You raised an eyebrow, intrigued. “Is that so? Any recommendations?”

He leaned in closer, his breath warm against your ear as he spoke over the din of the pub. “Stick with me, and I’ll make sure you have a great night.”

The night was young, he was hot, and the promise in his words was just too tempting to resist. You nodded, a smile playing on your lips. “Lead the way, Alex.”

With a nod, he grabbed the tray of drinks he had ordered and gestured for you to follow. You wove through the crowd, following the leather-clad figure like a beacon. He led you to a booth crowded with people, all of whom greeted him enthusiastically. Him or the drinks. Probably the drinks. But it was clear he was well-known and well-liked here. He introduced you to his friends, who welcomed you warmly, their laughter infectious.

For a while, you simply enjoyed the company, the drinks, and the easy banter that flowed around the table. Alex, ever the charmer, kept the conversation lively, his sharp wit and roguish smile captivating not just you, but everyone in the group. It wasn’t long before one of the guys showed up with a whole bottle of champagne.

“It’s time to celebrate, come on!” Alex declared, grabbing you up with him from the booth and snatching the bottle from the hand extended towards him.

“What are we celebrating?” you asked, laughing as you stumbled along with him. But he didn't bother giving any more details, and you didn't care to ask.

He led you to a slightly clearer spot near the edge of the room, his grip firm and confident. With a flourish, he began to open the champagne, the cork popping free with a satisfying sound. He held the bottle at the level of his groin, the fizzing liquid bubbling out. The sight of him there, hands positioned just so, made your mind wander. You couldn't help but imagine him right in that position, his hands in the same place but while coming all over your face.

You must have given away your thoughts, because Alex's eyes flickered with a knowing glint. He leaned in close, his breath hot against your ear, and whispered, “I’ll do just that as soon as we’re alone.”

The words sent a shiver down your spine, a thrill of anticipation coursing through you. Oh, you knew you were in for more than just a good night.

After a little while, he suggested moving to another pub, and you found yourself agreeing without hesitation.

The streets of Dublin were alive with energy as you moved alongside him, each stop offering a new flavour of the city's vibrant nightlife. Alex’s presence was magnetic. He knew all the best places, all the hidden gems that you never would have found on your own.

At the particularly cosy pub you settled on, with dim lighting and just the right music playing in the background, you found yourselves sitting close, his arm draped over the back of your chair. The conversation turned slightly more personal, but he didn’t give away too much. Maybe that’s what made him so appealing in this moment.

“You’re quite the enigma yourself, you know.” Alex said, his eyes never leaving yours. “What made you decide to come here all alone?”

You smiled, taking a sip of your drink. “I wanted an adventure. Sometimes you just have to step out of your comfort zone, right?”

He nodded, his expression thoughtful. “I get that. I’ve spent most of my life chasing that feeling. It’s what keeps things interesting.”

“And does it work?” you asked, genuinely curious.

He leaned in closer, his face inches from yours. “Meeting you certainly has.”

The words hung in the air between you, charged with the knowing thoughts that something more would eventually happen. You both knew it from the first moment you laid eyes on each other. The night was winding down, but you felt like it was just beginning. With a daring smile, you leaned in, closing the distance between you, and kissed him. Maybe it was a bold move, but the way he responded, his lips meeting yours with equal fervour, told you it was just right.

You could feel him smile into the kiss, the curve of his lips pressing warmly against yours. His hands moved to your waist, pulling you off your barstool and guiding you to stand between his spread thighs. His grip was firm, possessive, his fingers digging slightly into your hips.

He broke the kiss before it could get any deeper, his breath hot against your lips. “I think I’m gonna head back to my hotel.” he said, his voice low and rough. And so fucking sexy.

Confusion flickered in your eyes as he got off the stool and shrugged on his leather jacket, the piece settling perfectly over his broad shoulders. He took a step back, leaving you standing there, feeling the chill of his absence. But before you could question it, he reached out, his hand finding the small of your back. “You’re coming too.” he continued, his eyes locking onto yours with a promise that sent a shiver down your spine.

His hand on your back, almost too low, guided you through the pub and out into the cool night air. The pressure of his palm was tantalising, teasing, and you found yourself wishing it would slide just a little lower.

The walk to his hotel went by in a blur. Alex kept making teasing comments and giving you compliments that would have been way too forward from anyone else, but he pulled it off effortlessly. His confidence was intoxicating, each word making you smile and blush, adding to the excitement flowing through your veins. His hand stayed on your back, his fingers occasionally brushing against your skin, peeking between your top and skirt.

In the elevator, the atmosphere grew even more charged. Alex turned to you and, before you could react, he pinned you between his arms. The sound of his hands hitting the mirror on either side of you made you gasp, and then his lips were on yours, hot and demanding. The kiss was hungry, his tongue exploring your mouth with an eagerness that left you breathless. Your hands instinctively reached up, clutching at his shoulders, feeling the strength beneath his leather jacket. When he finally pulled away, you were left panting, your heart pounding as the elevator doors opened with a soft chime.

The room he led you into was huge and absolutely gorgeous, with panoramic windows lining the whole back wall, offering a breathtaking view of the city. The lights of Dublin spread out before you, mixing with the dazzling array of stars in the sky. It felt surreal, like stepping into a dream.

Alex walked over to the sofa in the sitting room area and sat down, a mischievous glint in his eyes. “I wanna smoke, love, do you mind?”

You shook your head. “No, I don’t mind.”

He asked again, waving a joint in the air so you could see it. “You sure?”

“Go ahead.” you replied, your voice soft but certain.

For a few moments, you stood by the window, taking in the stunning view. The city lights cast a soft, ambient glow into the room, but soon, your attention shifted back to him, the real view you wanted to admire. Alex took off his jacket and threw it over the back of the sofa, the movement making his muscles flex. He stretched his arms up, showing just how big and defined they were, the motion pulling his shirt tighter against his chest and highlighting every contour of his physique.

The sight of him turned you on more and more with each passing second. He bent forward to grab the ashtray and brought it closer, his movements fluid. He grabbed his lighter and lit the joint, taking a long drag and inhaling deeply. He leaned back on the seat, throwing his head back over the edge as he exhaled the smoke into the room. The tendrils of smoke curled in the air, the scent mixing with the faint cologne he wore, a heady combination that made your pulse quicken.

“Come sit.” he told you, not even looking at you, just calling you over with an air of command.

You moved to sit next to him, but he tsked softly, shaking his head. With a gentle but firm touch, he guided you to sit on your knees in front of him, right in between his legs. You followed his lead, his forwardness. His eyes roamed over you, dark and precise, like he was trying to decide what he was going to do to you. He took another drag of the joint, his gaze never leaving yours, and you could feel the heat of his attention as it travelled over your body.

As he leaned forward, his free hand cupped your chin, tilting your head up slightly. “You look incredible down there.” he murmured, his voice a low rumble that sent shivers down your spine. His thumb brushed over your lower lip, and you instinctively parted your lips and welcomed it in your mouth.

He exhaled another plume of smoke, the scent intoxicating, before setting the joint aside for a moment. His hands moved to your shoulders, squeezing gently before sliding down your arms, leaving a trail of warmth and goosebumps in their wake.

“Tell me,” he said, his voice soft but commanding, “How far out of your comfort zone are you willing to go tonight?”

Your answer was a breathless whisper, your eyes locked on his. “As far as you want to take me.”

His smile widened, an almost predatory glint in his eyes. “Good.” he said, his hands moving to your waist, pulling you closer until you were pressed against him. “I’ll make sure your night is unforgettable.”

With that, he leaned in, capturing your lips once more in a kiss that was both possessive and tender. His lips trailed down your neck, leaving a blazing path in their wake. He bit at your flesh, each nip sending waves of arousal coursing through you. His hands roamed your body, groping and squeezing in just the right places, his touch both possessive and teasing.

He pulled away for a moment, his eyes locking onto yours with an intensity that made your breath catch. Slowly, deliberately, he reached up and tugged at the tied straps holding your top up. The material loosened and slid down, exposing your bare chest to him. His gaze filled with desire as he took in the sight of you, his hands moving to cup your breasts.

His touch was firm, kneading your breasts in his hands, his thumbs brushing over your nipples. You could feel him getting hard beneath you, his bulge pressing insistently against you through his pants and your underwear.

With a wicked smile, he took one of your nipples between his fingers and twisted it harshly, making you gasp at the sudden intense sensation. The pain was sharp but quickly dissolved into pleasure, your body arching into his touch.

Then he slapped your both breasts from underneath, making them bounce, the motion drawing a low moan from your lips. He watched your reaction with a satisfied smirk, clearly enjoying the effect he had on you. His hands guided you back down onto your knees before him, his gaze never leaving yours.

“You know what to do.” he murmured, his voice a sort of command. His hand moved to the back of your head, fingers tangling in your hair. “Let’s see what can get me higher.” he said as he grabbed the joint, lighting the end of it again.

You reached up to undo his pants, your fingers deftly working the button and zipper. Alex slumped lower onto the sofa, his body relaxing, a cloud of smoke curling around his head as he took another drag. You pulled his pants down, and he helped get them lower by raising his hips, allowing you to slip them down to his ankles. The sight of him sprawled out, so confident and at ease, made your heart race.

With a slow, deliberate motion, you unbuttoned the last couple of buttons holding his shirt together and pushed it to either side, exposing his entire chest. His body was a work of art, lean and muscular, each contour highlighted by the soft glow of the city lights filtering through the windows. His abdomen was taut, the muscles rippling slightly as he breathed. There was a slight patch of hair in the middle of his chest, a detail that had driven you crazy ever since you noticed it back at the first pub.

Your eyes travelled lower, taking in the clear shape of his cock through his boxers. He was hard, the outline of his length straining against the material, the sight of it making your mouth water. You reached out, running your fingers along the bulge, feeling the heat and hardness beneath the fabric.

Alex exhaled another plume of smoke, his head leaning back against the sofa, eyes half-closed in anticipation. His body was the perfect picture sensuality in that moment, everything defined and perfectly proportioned. His chest heaved slightly with each breath, and you could see the slight sheen of sweat glistening on his skin, adding to the raw allure of him.

You looked up at him, meeting his gaze, now heavy-lidded and filled with lust. “Don’t keep me waiting, love.” he murmured, his voice low and rough.

With trembling hands, you hooked your fingers into the waistband of his boxers and slowly pulled them down, freeing his cock. It sprang free, hard and throbbing, the sight of it making your breath catch. You looked back up at him, your eyes meeting his, and he gave you a slow, wicked smile.

“Good girl.” he said, his voice a soft purr. “Give me your best.”

You pulled your legs together, seeking some relief from the ache building between them as his words drove you crazy. He noticed, a knowing smile playing on his lips as he continued to smoke, letting you get to work.

Your hands wrapped around his cock, feeling the weight of it in your palms as you began to stroke him. With a gentle tug, you pulled down on his foreskin, revealing the pinkish head, and leaned in to lick right at the slit, savouring the taste of the beads of precum leaking from it.

Taking him deeper into your mouth, you worked your tongue around the tip, circling it while your hands continued to stroke the rest. You kept a slow pace, building the tension and relishing the low groans of pleasure escaping from him.

After a while, you pulled off to spit on his cock, the sight earning a satisfied “Mhmm” from him.

A thought came back to your mind, so you decided to go ahead and ask. “What were you celebrating back there?”

He took a moment to reply, his eyes half-lidded with pleasure as your hands still stroked his dick. “That I broke up with my bitch ex-girlfriend.”

Oh. “So, am I your rebound, then?” you asked, a hint of curiosity in your voice.

“Nah. I just thought you looked like a good fuck…no offence.”

You didn’t mind that. Not at all. His blunt honesty only fueled you. You continued licking at him, your eyes locked onto his, the connection between you intensifying. He watched you, the hunger in his gaze making your heart race even faster.

“Want some?” he asked, waving the joint towards you.

You didn’t say anything, letting him guide you. He grabbed your chin, holding your face right where he wanted it, and turned the stick to you, placing it between your lips so you could take a drag. You enjoyed the taste and the sensation as you inhaled, but before you could exhale, he pulled you back onto his cock, shoving it inside your mouth. The smoke escaped through your nostrils and swirled around his shaft, creating a heady, intoxicating mix of sensations.

His grip tightened in your hair, guiding your movements as you bobbed your head, taking him deeper with each stroke. The smoky haze around you added to the surreal intensity, heightening every touch and taste. Alex’s groans grew louder, his pleasure evident in every sound he made, encouraging you to keep going, to give him everything you had.

You felt his hips start to move, thrusting gently into your mouth, his control slipping as he got lost in the sensation. His hand tightened in your hair, holding you in place as he pushed deeper, his cock filling your mouth completely. You could feel his pulse, strong and insistent, matching the racing beat of your own heart.

Each time he pulled back, you could see the pleasure etched on his face, his eyes dark and focused on you. “That’s enough.” he murmured, his voice rough with need. With a firm grip, he picked you up, your legs on either side of his thighs as he sat you down in his lap. His hands were everywhere, pulling your skirt up over your ass and running his hands all over your exposed skin.

He hooked his fingers around the edge of your panties, pulling them to the side. His fingers trailed between your lips, teasing you with light touches before shoving them inside roughly. The sudden intrusion made you gasp, the sound of your juices flowing around his fingers echoing in the quiet room. “Wet,” he said with a smirk, his eyes gleaming with satisfaction, “Perfect.”

Alex removed his fingers completely, lifting you closer to his chest. Your breath hitched as he positioned his cock at your entrance, the head pressing insistently against you. He gave your ass a sharp slap, the sting sending a jolt of pleasure through you, and then another, each one making you tremble with anticipation.

With a single, powerful thrust, he drove himself inside you, filling you completely. The sensation was overwhelming, a mix of pain and pleasure that made your head spin. He paused for a moment, letting you adjust to the fullness, his breath hot against your neck.

“Ride.” he murmured, his voice a husky whisper against your ear.

You began to move, at first grinding against him, savouring the way he filled you so deeply. The sensation of him inside you, so hard and thick, sent shivers of pleasure through your body. You could feel every vein on his cock rubbing against your inner walls, each movement delicious and intoxicating. His eyes were locked on you, watching you ride him slowly, too slowly for his patience.

His hands moved to your hips, gripping you tightly. “Fuck, you feel so good.” he groaned, his voice strained with need. He began to thrust up into you, hard and fast, each stroke sending shockwaves through you. The intensity built with every movement, his rhythm relentless and demanding.

Your body responded eagerly, your hips rolling to meet his thrusts, the friction igniting a fire within you. Your tits bounced against his chest, your nipples brushing against his skin with every rhythmic movement. The room was filled with the sounds of your moans and his grunts, a mix of raw desire and need.

He was fucking you so hard, his movements almost punishing in their intensity. You kissed him messily, your mouths colliding in a wet, hungry kiss. In the desperation of it, you accidentally bit down on his tongue, not too hard, but enough to draw blood. He didn’t care, the pleasure far outweighing the pain. The metallic taste of his blood mixed with your saliva, a strange but perfect sensation in the heat of the moment.

He groaned into your mouth, the blood and spit mingling and running down both of your faces. His hands tightened on your hips, driving you down onto his cock with even more force, each thrust bringing you closer to the edge.

Your mind was hazy, lost in the overwhelming sensations and the primal connection between you.

“Fuck, Alex.” you moaned, your voice breathless and needy.

“Come for me.” he growled, his thrusts becoming even more urgent. “I want to feel you come all over my cock, can you do that?”

You nodded, your breath coming in ragged gasps, the pleasure building to an unbearable peak. His words sent you over the edge, your orgasm crashing through you. Your body convulsed around him, your cries of pleasure echoing in the room.

“Fuck.” he groaned, but his thrusts didn’t stop. He only slowed the tiniest bit as he got up with you in his arms, his cock still inside you. He stepped out of the trousers pooling at his feet and started walking with you to those huge windows lining the room.

He let you down there, and you couldn’t even stay up on your feet, nearly collapsing as your knees went weak and wobbly. He caught you just in time, his strong arms the only thing keeping you upright.

“Fucking- just turn around and fucking stand up.” he growled, pushing you against the window, your breasts sticking to the cold glass.

The sensation of being so exposed was thrilling. Even though you were high enough that almost no one could see you, there was still that chance. What if someone in a nearby hotel happened to look out at that moment and spotted you?

“Admiring the scenery?” he asked, shoving his dick back inside your cunt and fucking you from behind.

You just nodded, overwhelmed by his speed, your walls growing sore from all the friction. The pressure was intense, a blend of pain and pleasure that kept you on the edge.

He grabbed you by the hair, pulling harshly and making you look up at him as he looked down at you. “Hmm?” he continued.

“Yeah, I love this view.” you managed to gasp out, the words tumbling from your lips.

His eyes darkened with lust, a smirk playing on his lips. “Good.” he murmured, his thrusts never faltering. “Because I plan on fucking you until neither of us can stand.”

The intensity of his words, combined with the relentless rhythm of his movements, sent you spiralling into another wave of pleasure. The cold glass against your chest, the roughness of his grip in your hair, the fullness of his cock inside you. Fuck. All of it melded together and left you breathless.

With each thrust, you could feel him hitting deeper, the angle perfect and unforgiving. His breath was hot against your ear as he growled, “Come for me again, love. You’ve been so good.”

And you did, your body shuddering as another orgasm ripped through you. Your moans filled the room, mingling with his grunts of pleasure. The thrill of being so exposed, the idea that someone might see you in such a raw, vulnerable state, heightened the experience. Alex didn’t stop, his pace relentless, driving him towards his own orgasm.

“Fuck, you’re so tight.” he groaned. His thrusts grew more erratic, his control slipping. Each powerful movement sent a sweet, sharp pain through you that left you gasping. “You like that, don’t you?” he growled, his voice a low, dirty whisper. “You like being fucked like this, don’t you?”

“Yes.” you moaned, the word escaping your lips without thought. “Yes, I love it.”

“Fucking slut.” he hissed, his hand sliding from your hair to grip your throat, applying just enough pressure to make your pulse race. “Let’s make that little dream of yours from earlier come true then, hmm?”

You knew exactly what he meant, and you couldn’t wait. His words, his touch, the relentless drive of his cock inside you. It was all too much. You could feel another orgasm building already, the intensity of it almost frightening. Alex sensed it too, his movements becoming even more purposeful, each thrust hitting that perfect spot inside you that made you see stars.

“I’m so good to you, aren’t I?” he urged, his grip on your throat tightening slightly. “It’s your turn to make me come, don’t ruin it.”

The command in his voice pushed you over the edge. You came hard, your body convulsing around him, your screams muffled against the glass. Alex didn’t stop, riding out your orgasm, his own release imminent.

As he felt himself getting close to the edge he whispered in your ear. “Daddy’s gonna give you a big reward now.”

He pulled out abruptly, leaving you gasping at the sudden emptiness. He quickly turned you around and pushed you down onto your knees, his grip firm. The urgency in his movements made your heart race with anticipation. You looked up at him, your eyes wide and filled with desire, your tongue out, begging like the obedient whore you were for him in this moment.

The sight of you, so eager and ready, pushed him over the brink. He stroked his cock furiously, his eyes locked onto yours, watching as you waited so prettily for his cum. His breaths came in harsh pants, his muscles tensing as he neared his orgasm.

With a deep, guttural groan, Alex came, his release hitting your face in hot, thick spurts. He grounded himself by extending an arm to the window behind you, his muscles taut and straining as he let go completely, his pleasure evident in every tremor of his body. The sheer intensity of his orgasm left him momentarily breathless, his eyes never leaving yours as he watched his cum paint your skin.

You could feel the warmth of his cum dripping down your cheeks and chin, the scent and taste of him overwhelming your senses. It was filthy and raw, and you loved every second of it. His groans of satisfaction echoed around you, mingling with your own soft moans as you revelled in the feeling of being claimed so completely.

Alex's breathing gradually slowed, and he finally let go of the window, his body relaxing as he came down from his high. He looked at you, a satisfied, possessive glint in his eyes as he took in the sight of you, covered in his cum and looking utterly wrecked.

“Fuck, you look perfect like that.” he murmured, his voice still rough and breathy. He reached down, his fingers brushing gently over your cum-streaked cheek, smearing it further. “Such a good girl.”

You smiled up at him, the thrill of his praise sending a fresh wave of warmth through you. “Thank you.”

He helped you to your feet, pulling you close for a tender, lingering kiss. The contrast between the roughness of moments before and the softness of his kiss now made your head spin.

“Can I clean up?” you asked softly, your voice still a bit shaky.

Alex smirked, a playful glint in his eyes. “Not yet.” he replied, his tone teasing. “I like seeing you like this. Just a little longer.”

You laughed softly, feeling a strange mix of embarrassment and confidence. “Okay.”

He kissed you again, deeper this time, his hands cupping your face gently. “It’s no use anyway,” he said, pulling back slightly to look into your eyes, “Because I'm not done with you yet.”

a/n: i wrote another fic that could be considered a sequel to this, ‘Daddy Came Home’

based on this request

special mention to @thenightslikeawhirlwind for suggesting bald!al for this <3

tags: @4chaos @st7rnioioss @theonlyoneswhoknowsblog @ohladymoon @rentsturner @yourstartreatment @avxoxo1 @jqsvi @turnersfav @youresodarkbabe @psychedelicrocker @feyasgotgroove @aacheinthejaw @hellcatshalalalaa @zayndrider @humbuginmybones

[g1rlken]

┏ 𝐅𝐥𝐞𝐞𝐭𝐞𝐬𝐭 𝐌𝐞𝐥𝐚𝐧𝐜𝐡𝐨𝐥𝐢𝐞𝐬 ┐

1. Part, Alex turner x actress!reader

summary: ugly break up and working together

warnings: smear campaigns, Twitter incels, award season, depression

word count: 4.8k+

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Relationships become a hurdle of choreographing well being when you’re going through a difficult period in life. The one person that’s supposed to be wholly yours becomes another face to mask with. Empathy feels good for a week, two weeks, a month. As the days would stack up it would just feel like a customised emotion, a weight. That’s how y/n felt, her relationship with Alex had seen a lot of ups and downs over their year and a half together. A lot of fights, long distances, miscommunications but it never weighed them down nor their relationship. They always came back stronger after a set back as such. However such shaky career hurdles were only ever seen by Alex, writer’s block, studio pressure, album press, billboard charts, the critics it was a coin toss on fate and he’d often land on the difficult side. But he had a lot of years in the industry and a well composed mind to these things.

Maybe her issues were difficult, Hollywood is eitherways a harsher ground for women. Especially the acting industry, she was facing method acting allegations by one of her elderly costars of old fashion. Not that method acting was concept of bad light in modern day cinema but the characters of the show were very demanding maybe some bitterness towards y/n however she never paid any mind to those when it started. Even her costars all took it lightly, the method acting questions started coming up in almost all promotions, either that or her relationship. She handled that with grace too, all until the emmys. The Emmys where she won one, a shining star in the tapestry of her young career. Amidst her speech a stand up show host had a set organised. Seemingly she wasn’t priorly informed about it being found dumbfounded on stage. In front of everyone, the same joke of being an alleged method actor made an imprint on her first ever Emmy. Everyone present just laughed like they would through a normal set, they laughed at her, she felt like the world ended. After that function she felt increasingly uncomfortable with herself, a laughingstock. Twitter was divided like it always is, she would just focus on those who added to the joke. Witty jabs. Variety articles behind y/l/n’s Emmy fiasco.

Alex tried. Alex tried really hard, he forced screens away from her. WiFi in their house only for certain hours and he’d supervise it, weekend getaways for her almost every weekend. She just seemed to not escape it, losing her appetite even. Alex was the cook between the two of them, meals would take hours and hours for her to get it down and he would sit with her without a complaint. He loved her truly unconditionally and he was aware it was genuinely hard for her. Such smear campaign was very hard to escape. When she started having sleep issues as well he forcibly suggested therapy. Y/n truly believed she wasn’t meant for therapy, she wasn’t ’therapy audience’ and he consoled her very hard into joining it. Eventually she did and it just added to the shitshow. Apparently the therapist found her difficult to work through, it lasted barely 2 weeks and the therapist referred her to someone else. It became public and her therapist’s statement was “The most difficult patient in all of my career.” Maybe it was the amateur hour for the therapist or maybe it wasn’t meant in a better light but social media smear campaign treated it like a festival.

As weeks progressed everything else seemed increasingly difficult. Especially Alex. Seeing his life, his new normal which would start and end with her well being and nothing would change with her mental state either. Alex was giving out so much of himself yet she couldn’t find it in herself to actually smile even. That guilt was worse than everything else. She let that guilt consume her for a while until she finally decided to do something about it.

That evening, after dinner she finally put a stone on her heart and decided to lay that conversation to him. Guiding him to sit across her on the sofa of their shared place she took his hands into hers “Alex, no one else has stood by me the way you have, these two whole months. It’s the worst thing that’s happened to me perhaps ever and you’ve been with me through it. Just how the cliches say it-like my rock.” She said patiently “I feel like I’m not making any progress but if it weren’t for you I would’ve been at a worse place and” she took in a shaky breath before continuing a long pause following something Alex had no idea of.

“Just how you’ve been around for me.” He said holding her hands in his right her “And what we are isn’t for cliches or for saying y/n, I love you and despite of you being at your lowest as long as I have you, I have all I need. We’ve had rough patches before we’ve been alright and we will be even-“

“Just…just let me finish yeah?” Y/n interrupted him looking down their hands because looking into his eyes which carried soft love was so much harder. “You’re giving away too much of yourself. You don’t see it but I do, you’ve made my well being some sort of a passion project of yours and I understand you want the best for me I really do. But I have to look out for you too, and, I feel like this isn’t fair to you. We’re not working out…we won’t.”

A very long silence followed as Alex stared at her comprehending that, “what?” he huffed in denial “what do you mean?” He asked as if it would change what she meant.

“Alex…” she brought his hands closer to her “you need to do better in life, better than this. You have so much potential to give out, into yourself, into your career and you’ve spent so much on me already. I can’t keep you for me like this…we should…part.”

“I am passionate about you what do you mean passion project? I am in love with you and I want to help you. Just how you’d help me don’t you see it? So you don't get to decide that for me and my potential. It’s mine.” Alex stated firmly.

“Exactly. It’s yours! You’re pouring it all out into me—you’re draining yourself-“

“None of that is for you to decide!” Alex stopped her sentence midway leaving her hands out of his to run his hands through his hair out of frustration.

“Fine…” y/n seemed bad with confrontation and she didn’t want to paint herself out to be a bad lover in his history books years from now but she didn’t know how else to not do that. He was hurting unknowingly. “But this is for me to decide and I have. W-we need to..” she couldn’t even find it in herself to finish that sentence. “Break up.”

“No.” Alex stated so casually like she just asked her a very simple question, as if it was a question. “No we do not. We don’t need to do any such thing.”

“Alex…” she sighed looking away, his denial was breaking her heart. Tears formulated her eyes as she thought about how much this will hurt him.

“What Alex? No: I’m refusing.” He shrugged, very nonchalantly shrugging. Declining her wish as he didn’t even look at her.

“Alex please” she said as she gently cupped his face to look at her, “you don’t realise this…you have been putting yourself through so much for me. This-this is difficult I know, but you’ll be better after this.”

“Y/n, listen to me” he shifted in his seat to face her. “You don’t get to decide this for me. You are going through a tough time and I will not leave you.”

“You haven’t written a piece in two months..you don’t even go to the studio. You barely leave me alone to work with anything else!” She pointed out, all these bits of his habits were vanishing out and she had noticed it all. Being an early riser he’d go for a run around the block but nowadays he’d just time how many hours she had slept because of her issues. Time her vitamins and supplements. Plan things with her and only her as if he wasn’t supposed to have a life of his own.

“I have a writer’s block!” He exclaimed growing increasingly hurt and frustrated that this is how she viewed him helping her. She sounded like a burden to herself but he had never considered one to himself and he hated that she felt that way.

“Because you’re so occupied with me!” She exclaimed back with a sigh rubbing her eyes and looked away, uncrossing her legs on the couch.

“That’s just your assumption y/n you don’t know how my process works and you shouldn’t come to conclusions about things you don’t know.” Alex tried to reason with her even if she was right he couldn’t care less. She was important to him and she needed his full attention.

“Could you please just listen to me Alex…I don’t want to stay within this-“ y/n replied trying to find the right words.

“With me. You don’t want to stay with me.” He rephrased her sentence giving it to her as raw as he fathomed.

“Yes.” Taking in a deep breath she finally let it out because he wasn’t listening to her without brutal honesty. “Yes I don’t.”

“That just isn’t true-that’s not right you’re too tired today that’s all.” Alex replied, he wanted to point it maybe she was also hungry but he kept that for more persuasion.

“Alex, please.” Y/n breathed taking her head in her hands because none of her reasonings got into her head.

He just shook his head in response as the silence weighed heavy between the two of them. Tears streamed down her face as they sat there, Alex was more fine with this tension than he was with being without her. “We just can’t…y/n.” Alex said.

“I’m really sorry” she said as she looked back up at him teary eyed. The tears seemingly made everything difficult for sure. “It’s going to be alright…” she wiped her tears and looked away again. His sad gaze was so gutting to look at and talk at the same time it felt like it would stick with her, hauntingly, even after she leaves.

“But it’s alright already” He urged shifting closer to her and wrapping an arm around her trying to meet her eyes but she kept her gaze fixated at the coffee table.

“That’s what you want to think” she said softly with a heavy heart. “I don’t want to do this either Alex…it’s for the best.”

If it were for the best he wouldn’t be feeling his heart sink lower and his breath shortening. His vision becoming fuzzy already as tears brimmed in his eyes as well. But he wanted to handle this more delicately. “It isn’t, you know it isn’t.” He sniffled. “This isn’t what I want and I know it’s not what you want either, why do you feel this way? This need to run?”

“I’m not running Alex” I’m setting you free, she didn’t say out loud “I’ve been thinking about this a lot and…and this is going to hurt. It will hurt for a while but you’ll get over it.”

“Get over you? Y/n I don’t plan on leaving you” he said still drowning in denial. Stern denial and blind faith he could fix this mess, if he talked to her more. He could fix this mess, if he asked her sleep on it. He could fix this mess, if he held her closer. So he did. “Y/n look at me, look at me.” He forced her to face him. “This isn’t a rational solution. You are going through so much and you are thinking too much but this is a mistake. What we have is bigger than our problems-“

“Alex.” She stopped him midway, staring into his teary eyes with hers the same “This is my problem. You try to make to make it ours, helping me through it is one thing but this is taking up too much effort and energy in your life don’t you get that?”

Alex had never felt this defeated all his life. No reasoning seemed to get to him. He couldn’t digest that she let such thoughts mature for about a week and never once preferred to talk to him about it but just became sure about it. When the fact that she felt so distant from him to not even bring it up brought him to flowing tears. Taking his face into his hands he cried. Breaking down, y/n never saw him like this and she had seen him go through supposedly tougher situations. “You can’t do this to me” he said, his voice parched and eyes red.

The thought of leaving the next day in the morning, sleeping in different bedrooms and hugging him a goodbye at breakfast was so done now. If she didn’t leave now she won’t be able to leave ever. Just holding his face in her hands as her tears streamed down her face reciprocating his. She couldn’t even muster the courage to mouth a sorry. She glanced away at her keys and wallet by the side table. It hit her like a truck when she realised there won’t be a goodbye tomorrow but today. This very moment. She slowly got her car keys and wallet and put them on her side. “It’s going to be okay…” she said sighing. Cupping his face in her hands as he reciprocated the action holding her hands and staring into her eyes.

“No it’s not” he replied with heavy grief laced in his voice. Why wouldn’t she do anything to change this? Why would she let it be this way? He felt helpless to how she firm she was about this. He placed his lips onto hers holding her closer by her waist as she cradled his face. It time were to stop he’d prefer death over letting her go. As they kissed he realised how temporary this moment will be and how this memory will bite him with sharp teeth of yearning. He couldn’t stomach the thought that she would be a memory. Visit him in nostalgia and come up in conversations and that would be all?

Eventually she pulled away from their kiss, wiping his tears with her hands as her own surfaced her face too. His dreary eyes had such an effect upon she couldn’t bare it and she softly kissed him again. His hands would still not let her go. As moments passed in holding each other and the kisses broke she realised it was time. “Goodbye, Alex.” She spoke with a voice barely above whisper because the sound of her voice breaking was louder.

His eyes widened as he realised she was leaving, now. He had barely come to terms with the fact that she was leaving. He held her hand back as she tried standing up. “You’re leaving?” His voice broke as he asked that. Y/n didn’t have it in herself to answer him what he already knew she just looked at him apologetically. Apology she knew she didn’t deserve at this very moment. “You can’t just leave right now-think about this. Sleep on it, if you still want to go leave next week?”

His negotiations seemed to know no bounds and the bargain was to get him nowhere. It would probably make him worse if she stayed. If she stayed after this. “Alex-“

“You can’t even drive in this state y/n absolutely not-if you want a break from me we could just sleep in separate bedrooms I won’t bother you-“ he tried to come up with all possible alternatives.

Her heart sank further realising how further he'd go just to make her stay. It solidified her decision of her leaving because he would always chose her above himself, even at the expense of himself hurting. She had to love him enough to let him go. “Alex…” she breathed stopping him midway “I have to.” Shaking her head she stood up to leave but didn’t see him stand up at the corner of her eyes. Somewhat relived it wouldn’t be harder to walk out that door perhaps. As she clutched her keys and wallet she felt a tug at her leg.

Looking behind to see Alex on his knees for her, it was perhaps the worst sight ever her tears reciprocating his again before he even spoke. “Y/n I beg of you please don’t go” he said as he wrapped his arms around her legs, on his knees weeping for her.

Trying to remain balanced on her footing against his grip, “don’t do this” she pleaded as her voice broke and she knelt to his level. “Please don’t make this harder.” She cried choking on her words and held his hands. Alex held her hands back very tightly.

“It doesn’t have to be hard at all” he spoke through tears as she sat close to him he brought her closer naturally settling onto his lap. As she cried and wiped his tears more just streamed down his face, “We can make it out of this y/n please, trust me please have some faith in us”

The desperation in his voice, the tears and his words it was all so gutting. This would me one of those moments she would perhaps never recover from. If she ever finds happiness again she felt like it would be at the expense of this, it would be hard for him. Very hard, but he would do so much better if she left. It was evident how much he was willing to give even to the last moment, it was concerning. “You can’t love someone this hard” y/n held his face in her hands and told him sternly “I am very miserable and I’m bringing you the same pain-over and over. This is it Alex. You won’t hurt again at the hands of me and I’m sorry it is this way…” she told him. He had no words but tears to shed. He sat absolutely defeated with her entangled in his arms. Neither he said anything nor did she.

Y/n held him back wrapping her arms around him giving him a hug or maybe hiding his teary face from herself and likewise. Rubbing his back as she hugged him sitting upon his lap. He buried his face by her neck holding her close. If the world were to end he wouldn’t care because it already did for him. The thought that this was probably the last time she would be in his arms like this made his agony worsen.

They just held each other for almost a whole hour, her head resting by his chest as they sat intertwined. The silent and slow understanding of the end. Some picture frames on the coffee table and the wall ahead, somewhat blurry because of the tears, those memories came back so much clearer. There will be no more and these will just remain pictures. Alex let out a shudder of a breath at that thought. “Where will you go?” He asked her in a tone just above a whisper.

“To my dad’s.” She replied softly without looking back up at him nor attempting to shift away from his grip. Last of his warmth. Theirs.

“He was just starting to like me…” he spoke as a soft chuckle escaped him through the tears and y/n’s followed. He would often joke with her that her dad ‘hated him’ because he was rather stern to him and she would always tell him otherwise. In truth he may be but what did it all matter now? He looked down at her in his arms when she let out a little laugh too but then quivering, broke down in his arms. He kissed the top of her head with silent consoling and holding her with the last of his love she’d let him give her.

The night wouldn’t last forever just like them and she finally left. With much courage and a heavy heart out of his arms and then their shared place. Alex couldn’t watch her leave and he did not. The last glimpse he caught of her face before he kissed the top of her head. He would think back to this for a long while and he wanted to remember her beautiful face and not her leaving him. She left and the door shut, on their house and their life together.

-

A job is a job. However excruciating and beaten down, it finds you on your face but you’re bound to return. Y/n did as well. Over half a year, she started working again. Lived with her dad to make a comeback to the one place that would have ever even after everything. Her career made a turn eventually the Twitter smear campaigns wear themselves out. Talent comes through in Hollywood despite its vice like grip over its finest stars. Y/n’s project worked out, she avoided the award season despite being nominated but she did walk promotional red carpet for her new project. Time heals.

Time is subjected to heal everything even with some ignited hatred if that be to overcome the hurt. Alex, he grew to despise y/n. The first few months hurt so much, everywhere in the house he’d find his things even after she collected them. There were pieces of her everywhere. Their pictures were what hurt the least. Even after he moved out of the place whose sunrise constantly reminded of her absence of his arm. He kept finding her things everywhere. The longing could surround him for long until he turned all of that sadness into a harsher emotion. It was difficult to teach himself to decline her thoughts, hate her. But he did and that’s when he wasn’t as sad.

When the devil can’t reach you it keeps you on Alex turner’s bad side. Or perhaps send you to him. Just as now, y/n was doing her friend of years, Richard, a favour. Moreover Richard pleaded and begged her to do so. He was making a music video for the arctic monkeys and the studio’s PR team members wanted y/n specially or pull the cord of the entire project. Since her career was booming it would be perfect publicity for the upcoming single and her history with Alex. Y/n would rather not indulge in such at all, especially with Alex. Richard assured her that Alex wouldn’t even be on the set for the music video and it was set in Ireland’s grasslands. Too far for Alex to attend anyways since he wasn’t in the music video.

First day on set after she lands there y/n finds herself treated with warmth with the core team. The operator, the camera team, the crew most of them were faces she’d previously known. Everyone ‘glad’ to see her working again was a comment she was irked with for a while ever since she’d returned to working. They always said it in a comforting tone as if she’d was coming back from jail or so, such patient like sympathy was difficult but not anymore. Very comfortably used to it. Superficial condolences in the best way perhaps.

“Missed you fuckface!” She laughed as she hugged Richard on the set and he joined along. Hugging her back, they’d met after a long while.

“I did too, you jerk.” He laughed and ruffled her hair a bit, she nudged away in response and their inside jokes kept ongoing. Through the conversations it swayed back to being on set and Richard worked her through the video.

“This place is so remote I’m so glad you agreed because nobody else would’ve come this far and Alex wanted just you.” Richard mentioned as he talked her through the cinematic of it.

“Wait, Alex did?” Y/n asked furrowing her brows together. Richard had stated to her that Alex wouldn’t be there at all so him wanting her for the video, ‘just her’ was somewhat unbelievable.

“The record did…it’s kind of the same thing.” Richard replied.

“It’s not” she shrugged given she knew the context conversations between Alex and the record from when they were together. “I’m just so glad he’s not here”

“He’s not a bad person you know” Richard accounted for him thinking the breakup was his fault given how rigid y/n was not wanting to sign up for an AM project.

“Oh no of course not” he’s an angel, she didn’t say out loud. Alex kept whatever happened between them through the break up private. He didn’t even paint her out like someone who wronged him to their mutual friends, when he could’ve done so.

“Then why do you have such a problem with him being here?” Richard asked with voice laced of confusion and curiosity.

“I don’t have a problem just too much-“ drama? Bad memories? Good memories? Regret? All too much perhaps.

“Well that’s great then because he might be here.” Richard spoke hurriedly despite his promise he was just making the video he couldn’t dictate who could and could not be on set. Especially not the lead singer.

“What? What do you mean?” She asked with a dejected scoff, she believed him when he’d promised that Alex won’t be on set. “What do you mean here Richard you told me-“

“I mean here as in he may be around but he’s here for now-“ Richard fumbled with his words mentally preparing for the telling off y/n would inflict on him soon enough.

“Here as in?” She asked raising sharp brow at him crossing her arms.

“As in Ireland…” Richard trailed off and took a cue to hastily add the next information as she took in a sharp breath “Could also be on set”

“On set?!” She exclaimed “right now?”

“I’m not sure okay I don’t know-the video script had some changes and he was needed for some pretext or something. Also, y/n. He’s written this song, it’s his band—I can’t just say no to him if he wants to be on set.” Richard explained. The bickering went on back and forth for a while until a voice from behind broke them.

“Richard!” Alex exclaimed as he paced up to the man, all colour drained and also made her flustered when the air shifted with Alex’s hasty walk to Richard who she stood right beside. Alex greeted Richard with a hug. “This is a beautiful location, fantastic work yeah?”

“Ah thanks mate.” Richard said with a smile as they made a small talk about the set and think pieces. He tried to include y/n in the conversation too but Alex didn’t once look to the side as if she wasn’t even present there. Richard talked about some of the crew to Alex and then, wanting to relay it slowly. “And y/n, you know her of course”

“Right yeah” Alex scoffed and made a somewhat bothered expression, irritated in an instant. He did so as if she truly wasn’t present there. Intimidatingly he stood with his hands on his waist, leather jacket, the classic Alex. Soon enough without casting her as much as a glance he took his leave from the conversation.

She wasn’t ready for this conversation, not that it was a conversation at all. Y/n’s little ‘hi there’ was blatantly ignored by him too but it was all expected. She had planned to not cross paths with him but hypothetically after all that went down she had anticipated him being cold like this. She wasn’t mentally prepared for it, not today. However she didn’t hold it against him by all means he had the right to act this way. Even if she wanted to be somewhat offended by his harshness his pleading face, desperate tone, begging her not to leave on his knees all of it just came flooding back to sink her in regret. If the roles were reversed she would want to be far away from Alex and that’s what she would grant him. Keep her distance.

“So…” Richard trailed off pulling her out of her train of thoughts to talk about the unsolicited harshness. To an outsider, the breakup had been almost 6 months ago and neither of them made any big grievances about it so it was all very odd.

“Don’t.” Y/n shook her head not willing to go into this discourse.

-

I’ll do a few parts to this series let me know if you want to be tagged ;)

Comments and thoughts will be so so so very appreciated please please please let me know

[andbreakmynose]

cowboy films on gloomy afternoons

you loved everything about working at your local cinema, besides that one employee who just really confused you. he's just as pretentious as you thought but maybe he's also... something else.

WARNINGS: smut!! p-in-v, soft dom! al, one use of slut, office sex, age gap (unspecified, reader is in university). this is really fucking self indulgent

WORD COUNT: 4.7k

written with tbhc alex in mind because tbh he's the only one i can imagine being this level of pretentious tbh

You believed that you truly had the perfect job. For a film student, working as the projectionist at the little independent cinema across the street really was too good to be true. You spent your long hours watching movies—the kind that mattered. Sometimes you’d get stuck with the blockbuster of the week, but you were mostly met with true classics and arthouse features, which not only stuck with you long after watching but actually helped you get ahead in class. Your workspace was cramped and less than ideal, but not even that made you hate the job. You were surrounded by what felt like cinema history in unused rolls of film and posters left over from all 78 years the theater had been open, plus there was a half-decent couch to nap on. And yeah, you got free soda and snacks from it. Perfect.

The company was nice too; if the film ran long and you felt like you needed to stretch your legs, you could walk down to the never-busy lobby and talk to Lucy at the concessions counter (and steal some food) or Dylan at the ticketing stand. Somehow you even got a pretty good boss; Marty was one of the coolest and most experienced people you had ever met. He also wasn’t ever that busy, so he could help you with your homework if you really needed it.

But there’s always that one confusing co-worker, isn’t there? The one that’s either always out for the day or just plain weird. You had Alex. He worked in programming, getting to decide what movies the theater would show regardless of anyone else’s opinions. And goddamn, he was really good at it. Almost every showing you saw was completely sold out (who knew Sheffield had such an audience for auteur films?). But every time you praised his talent, he’d just... shrug it off. He was an enigma wrapped in an encyclopedia of film knowledge.

The problem with Alex is that he was aloof and painfully so. At team meetings, he’d stay in the corner, and you never really saw him out of the office. He also had a habit of being fickle; one day he’d decide he wanted to do an entire week of Tarkovsky films, and the next he’d want to do 1940’s horror films instead. His behavior echoed the type of students that would be dismissed in your class as ‘obnoxiously pretentious’, and god he was, you still remembered the time he went off on poor Marty for suggesting they show a Star Wars movie. But you were still interested in what he had to say; you loved Lucy and Dylan, but they couldn’t hold a conversation about a movie. Alex could, you assumed, if he was able to hold a conversation at all.

The first time you ever talked to him in private was when you went to ask about the copy of the film that was being shown. You had heard there was both a director's cut and a theatrical cut, so you wanted to make sure which you were playing. He answered your question with one sentence; “Director’s. Why the hell would I pick the theatrical edition?” And then went back to his work. It was a while before you talked to him again.

The next time you talked to him was for the same reasons, he seemed a little deep in his work when you came down to his office but you had 20 minutes before credits hit and your boss needed you to do this now. It was something about a high paying donor having a desperate question, whatever.

This exchange was almost the same, except this time he insisted that it was the theatrical cut and that the director’s cut was cash-grab bullshit. Ever the confusing man. You started on your way out when he called at you.

“Hey, what’s your favorite movie?”

It was an unexpected question, he never asked you anything let alone a personal question. It must be a trap, he wanted to hear your favorite movie and then would make fun of you for it. And it’s not that you had bad taste or anything, you're just sure he could find a way to tease you for literally anything you said.

“C’mon, I don’t have all day.” He says, an almost bored expression on his face.

You hesitated in choosing your words, anxious not to provoke the irritation you had seen in men like Alex, even though you knew he was likely to remain impassive. And even though you hadn’t seen him lose his temper, his distant demeanor made you uneasy, as if any slight could provoke a reaction. You had no reason to be scared but you couldn’t shake the feeling of unease in your bones.

Alex on the other hand finally turned to face you fully. He had been observing you for a while, you were always around and so was he, and he noted that you also seemed genuinely interested in the films and not just your paycheck. He also found himself begrudgingly noticing that you always wore the same type of skirt, ending right above your knees. He thought that if you were a character in a film it’d be one of your defining traits.

“Mulholland Drive.” You coughed up after a second of thinking. It was an answer that was both honest and, perhaps, intended to impress him. You didn’t want to dwell on whether that was your true intention or not though, you had other things to do.

Alex felt a flicker of satisfaction at your choice. He anticipated a more predictable answer, so Mulholland Drive was certainly a more compelling choice. In his mind, it confirmed that his suspicions were true; you were a different type of girl than any other employee he had seen in his 10 years of working at this theater. Maybe he really was pretentious, but he felt like if anyone was to work with him it should be people like you. He gave you a satisfied nod and a hum of approval, returning to the emails at his desk. He found you just as mysterious as he found you, he wanted to tear down the layers you had shown to everyone else.

Taking that as your sign to leave, you made sure to stop at the concessions stand for a bag of popcorn before going back up to the projectionists booth.

Two weeks later was when things started to change.

Alex had started to smile more, but you decided that was just because it was warm outside again. He had an interesting smile, it was warm and took up his entire face. It wasn’t the smile you’d expect him to have, you expected him to have a sneer if he was even capable of smiling.

You always liked to look at the schedule of films for the next week when they dropped on Thursday afternoons, you’d compare it to your classes’ syllabus to see if there was anything you could watch to get ahead. It seemed like Alex had decided on cowboy films for the next week, he’d done Sergio Leone before but this was just… a lot of 1960’s cowboy movies you had never even heard of. Nothing that would be helpful at all for you.

In between ‘Navajo Joe’ and ‘Billy the Kid Versus Dracula’ (god, where did he even discover these things), your eyebrows shot up. In the midst of all these damn horse operas he had snuck in… Mulholland Drive.

To say there were a million thoughts going through your head would be an understatement. A small, selfish part of you wanted him to have included the film because he had a soft spot for you, maybe this was his way of saying he saw how much you liked movies too. The logical part of your brain told you that there was some other reason, maybe an anniversary or something.

Checking the remaining time on Sabrina (Alex was on an Audrey Hepburn kick this week), you saw you had an hour left. That was plenty of time to wander the lobby and see if you could catch Alex. You slipped your phone into your pocket and climbed down the ladder from the projectionist’s booth to the lobby, praying to every god possible that Alex is somewhere to be found.

Lucy called out to you the second she saw you, beckoning you over with popcorn. You sighed and walked over, smiling at her.

“Hey look, I can’t talk for too long… have you seen Alex? Urgent question from someone at the screening.” It’s an utter lie, your mother would’ve reprimanded you for how filthy it was. But you needed to talk to him.

Lucy thought for a second, tapping her chin with her finger before she remembered. “He’s in his office, he’s always in his office, remember?” She said like it’s the most obvious thing ever. You nodded and gave a thumbs up, taking a handful of popcorn in your mouth before standing up again.

And that’s how you ended up in his office again, although you were shyer this time. If it was actually a question from a patron you’d ask it so easily, but this time it was your own. He’d have to give you an insight into his mind, you weren’t sure if he had ever done that before.

Your foot tapped lightly as you knocked on the door to his office, you heard him shuffle some papers around and groan.

“Come in.”

You have to take a deep breath before you open the door, there’s no reason this stupid movie should be making you feel this nervous but god…

“You’re gonna make me watch shitty westerns for an entire week, Turner?” You say with a small smirk, you embarrassingly had thought of your words all day. You didn’t want to just come in and ask him about why he picked your favorite film.

His eyes darted over to you the second you walked in, slowly taking you in. You had on the same skirt as last time. “I was watching one at home last night and was reminded of how brilliant the genre was. What, you don’t like a good shoot-em-up?” He asks you with raised eyebrows, leaning back slightly in his desk chair. Of course he liked westerns.

“Not my thing at all.” You replied, taking a small step closer to him. His hair was messier today than it usually was, his beard had gotten longer. He looked like he hadn’t slept in a bit, although he never looked like he got a lot of sleep. “Is it yours? Is your favorite film a western?”

He took note of how you were asking his favorite, the same way he asked yours. Smart girl. He smirked and shook his head, “Nah. My favorite film is ‘Le Samouraï’, you seen it?” Alex wouldn’t judge if you hadn’t seen it, but if you have it just might make you his favorite person on the planet.

You have to rack your brain on what you’ve heard of this film before, maybe it’s been mentioned in class before, you haven’t seen it. “No. Is that a sin?” You asked, leaning against a file cabinet in his office. His office was definitely bigger than the projection booth, he had made it very Alex.

Alex scoffed and shook his head, “I’m sad you haven’t seen it because it’s so brilliant but not mad. They haven’t taught you Melville in that expensive film school yet? You’re getting ripped off, sweetheart.” He matched your comfortable stance by leaning further back into his desk chair and crossing his legs. He had noticed that you aren’t scared of him, not even intimidated by his knowledge. He liked that, he liked talking to you.

“I’ve heard the name, we just haven’t watched it yet.” You respond, looking for the next thing to say to bring you to your point. “But I guess you’ve seen my favorite film, right? I saw you included Mulholland Drive in the lineup, was that a coincidence or are you being deliberate?”

Alex laughed at your words, of course you picked up on that. You really were too smart for your own good. “Well I suppose it’s a bit of both. I wanted something different in case not every regular audience member was on board with my westerns-’ he paused to roll his eyes, as if that thought disgusted him, “but yes. I figured it might be a pleasant surprise for someone with a discerning taste.” His eyes met yours and he smiled again, mostly because he saw a smile creeping on your face. He wanted to keep you smiling.

There was something about him admitting that it’s for you that made you feel… something. You didn’t quite know what. Maybe excited? You were excited and felt validated that he found your taste in film good enough to put on a lineup. You liked that he was perceiving you. “You’re saying you picked it for me? And here I thought you were just gonna be cryptic... What's your angle here?” You asked him; the smile was still on your face, but now your eyebrows were raised.

“Ah.” Alex uncrossed his legs, finally standing up. He got a little closer to you; he wanted to make stronger eye contact with you. “A great teacher back when I was in film school told me that it’s not just about what you watch; it’s about connecting. Maybe it’s all worth it if I can connect with someone who also appreciates the genius of Mulholland Drive.” Pretentious bastard; even his flirting was fucking pretentious. You would’ve made fun of him if you weren’t fighting back a blush.

You took another second to decide your words; it wasn’t often you were speechless, but you were now. "Well, I didn’t expect you to remember, let alone care enough to do that. Maybe there’s more to you than I thought... but don’t get any ideas about being my hero because you saved me from a complete week of westerns.” You had to throw an quip in there; without it, you thought your words felt too… vulnerable. You weren’t sure you were there with Alex yet.

He had to admit that you were funny, even if it was obvious what you were trying to say. He let out a laugh and shook his head. “I’m not trying to be your hero, sweetheart. I just figured that someone who loves the film as much as you deserves to see it on the big screen. Even if it’s from your tiny projection booth.”

His words, once again, leave you stunned. That was really sweet—maybe the top 5 sweetest things anyone had ever done for you. It was almost impossible not to blush and grin at him, and your body betrayed you by making you step forward. “Yeah? That’s… nice. But if you’re not trying to impress me, what’s your real game here? Or do you just have a thing for making people feel special?” You asked him; your smile was somewhere between teasing him and being genuinely flattered.

“You are special.” He responded, also taking a step forward. You started to feel his breath on your face; somehow just this one conversation had made you go from being terrified of him and thinking he’s so pretentious to wanting him.

As if he could read your mind, he reached forward and placed his hand on your hip, giving it a small squeeze. “Maybe I just enjoy challenging expectations; I can’t always be the mysterious bastard in the office. And like I said, you’re special.” His voice lowered, and his face got impossibly closer to yours.

Against all odds of being at work, and that just a week ago you thought he was the most confusing man on the planet, you needed to fucking kiss him. And you did; you took a half step forward and smashed your lips against his. He kept his hand on your hip, squeezing the soft skin as he pushed your back against the filing cabinets. You guessed that he wanted you as bad as you wanted him because he was practically sucking your face; you thought that was just a saying. It was an absolute mess of tongue on tongue and teeth on teeth; your noses even collided a few times as his beard scratched your face. It was uncomfortable in the best way; it was damn hot.

You moaned the very first second you felt his hand grope at your ass and his mouth slip from your lips to your neck. “So fucking pretty, so good,” he muttered before he started to attack your neck. It was an added sensation to have his beard pressing against you alongside his mouth (and teeth; he almost teethed at you). He definitely would leave more marks than just hickeys, but you were so in pleasure you didn’t even have time to think of work.

Oh fuck, work. You cursed silently to yourself and looked up at the clock, just as his hand started to snake under your blouse and over your bra, giving your tit a nice squeeze. “Fuck!” you called out, not just from the intense pleasure but from the fact that you only had another 30 minutes left before you told yourself you needed to be back in the booth. In an ideal world, you’d have an entire night with him.

He continued his mouth’s attack on your neck and hand’s attack on your breasts, feeling his pants start to become tighter; he could only imagine how wet you were. His fantasies were interrupted by you pulling him away and sighing, trying to catch your breath. “Alex… Alex I don’t have much time before I need to go. Do you want-”

He interrupted you this time with his hand coming up to squeeze your lips together, promptly making you shut up. “You got enough time for me to fuck you? Because I’m going to fuck you,” he said as if he'd already decided, and then he started to work with the hand not on your face to unbuckle his belt.

You weren’t able to really form words, so you just whined and nodded, giving him that permission he wanted. He took it quickly, flipping you over and bending you over his desk, your tiny skirt riding up so he could get a view of your pants. You were soaked; he knew you would be. His large thumb started to trace your folds before he made a ‘tsk’ noise and flipped you over again. He wanted to see your face, he decided. Alex Turner was nothing if not confusing.

“This wet only from a little kissing, god, sweetheart, I didn’t know I was dealing with a slut. Although I could’ve guessed from these tiny skirts you keep wearing.” His voice is cool and calm, a complete contradiction from how sinful his words were. You whined at them.

“Alex please. We don’t have much time; please just fuck me!” You cried out, hastily pulling your skirt down so he had easier access. Alex nodded and began to work faster on pulling his pants down. He was so goddamn aroused watching you act like this; you were such a gorgeous girl, and now he had you completely under his control. You moaned loudly, and he grunted, bringing his hand up over your mouth.

“Sweetheart, I’d love to hear all those pretty little noises, but not now. I’m not getting fired because you had to talk all sweet to me and get bent over.” It was an unholy whisper into your ears, causing your skin to shiver. You nodded, and he took that as a sign to slip your panties down. “Knew you’d have a pretty cunt.”

If it was even possible, his words caused you to get even wetter. You could’ve guessed that he was big from the hardness in his jeans, but by the time he slipped his pants and boxers off, you were left gasping against his hand. There was an underlying fear—how the hell was that supposed to fit inside of you?—but also a great arousal because THAT was supposed to be inside of you. Alex tilted his head down to look at your pussy before he smirked, adjusting himself so he could get closer to your entrance.

Your cunt started to clench around nothing, getting excited just at the sheer closeness of his cock. He looked at your entrance again before he spat on his hand and started to rub it along his length as extra lubrication. “I don’t want to hurt you, babygirl,” he whispered before gently forcing the head into your heat, causing you to scream against his hand.

He shushed you again as he kept pushing himself further in; all of your tiny moans and whines were hidden by his hand, but that was for the best; he’d hear them eventually. You were so tight, so warm, and in that very moment Alex decided he was never going to fuck another girl in his life.

When he bottomed out, you gave in and bit at his hand; it was the only way you could keep an actual scream from coming out. You felt so full, you could even feel him throbbing in your cunt (or maybe that was your walls clenching; it could be both). He smirked and started to move, setting a pace that was relentless. He’d prefer to take you apart slower, but you didn’t exactly have the time for that.

His cock was hit every spot in you that made you mewl and arch your back; it was like he knew things about your body that you didn’t. His eyes were focused like you were one of those damn emails he was always writing; it was hot to you that he was that focused on your pleasure. Gentle grunts started to fall out of his mouth as the hand not on your mouth came up to twist at your nipples. The pleasure was starting to become unbearable, and you weren’t sure how much longer you had until you started crying.

You knew you were close when a particularly hard thrust caused your eyes to roll so far back in your head it hurt, so you brought your thumb down to your clit. You needed to cum, and you didn’t care what you had to do to achieve that.

Alex cared though; he wanted to be the one to make you cum. He took his hand off of your nipple and smacked yours off your clit, causing you to whine at the loss of sensation. “None of that. If you needed that, you could’ve just asked,” he grunted, bringing his thumb down to your sensitive bud. It was a funny thing for him to say, as you couldn’t exactly speak, but you still bucked up at his manipulation.

His pace started to become sloppy; you knew he was close too. His breath was also starting to become staggered, and you could almost see a tremble in his legs. You’d never seen him this undone, and it was so damn arousing that you caused it. Alex had already memorized all the spots that made you shake and whine; he knew you were close, so he made sure to hit them all on his thrusts. He knew he didn’t have much time left, and he wanted to make sure you didn’t leave unsatisfied.

It was a particular stroke where he somehow managed to hit your g-spot and pinch your clit at the same time that had you over the top. You felt your legs start to shake and your back arched. You were sure the noises coming from your mouth were starting to get louder than his hand-cranked control, but you didn’t care. You didn’t even care when your hand spilled the pencil cup on his desk all over the floor. All you cared about was that you were cumming and he was making you cum.

Alex grinned at the sight of you becoming this undone because of him. That was what sent him over the edge—the idea that it was his work that just made you coat his member in juices. He pushed until the last second, until his cock was actually twitching, and then he pulled out. The loss of contact was hardly noticed, and he came all over his office floor just by seeing how fucked out you were. You still hadn’t caught your breath, but you were watching him with awe. His dick was really damn nice, and now it was leaking so much cum onto the floor.

He collapsed onto his desk chair and reached for a tissue from his desk. He wiped off his cock before tucking it back into his boxers and then wiped off your pussy, cleaning up the table too. He threw the tissue away and made a mental note to take his own office trash out later.

Once you had caught your breath enough, you stood up, legs still wobbly, and put your pants back on. It took a second, but eventually you had them and your skirt on. Alex just smirked at you.

“That was... good,” you said with a small smile. You were starting to get shy being around him; you just fucked him, and now you had to go back to work.

“It was. You’re uh, you’re perfect. I meant it when I said you’re special.” His smirk turns into a genuinely warm smile, and he brings his thumb up to trace your chin. There was a faint mark on your mouth from him keeping you quiet. You looked down at his cum on the floor, raising your eyebrows in a silent offer to clean it up. He just shook his head; he’d deal with that.

You nodded and sighed, “I should probably get back to work... I don’t look like I just had sex, do I?” Your hair was slightly messy and your shirt was wrinkled, but it also always was. “No one will notice sweetheart,” he replied with a bit of a laugh. He was glad this was your secret.

"Right, uh, thank you, Alex?” It comes out as a question; you’re not sure if you should thank your co-worker for making you cum like that. He shook his head and stood up. “No, thank you for being such a damn good fuck and a special girl.”

You smiled at this; his words gave you a slight hope that maybe this would happen again. You opened his door when he called out to you.

“Sweetheart, I was thinking that maybe I could come up with you and watch Mulholland Drive next week.” It was an optimistic idea; he was worried that you only wanted to fuck. But you grinned and nodded, “I’d really love that; we even have a couch up there.”

He chuckled and stepped closer to you, placing his hand on your chin again. “A couch, fancy!” He joked before he pressed a singular peck on your lips; he wanted you to know that you meant something more than a fuck in the only way he knew how. He wasn’t exactly the best with words. You laughed back at him.

“Alright then, it’s a date.” You grinned at him before leaving his office; you would’ve stayed longer, but time really was running out. You were so lucky that Lucy seemed to be on a bathroom break; you didn’t have to deal with her asking why you were in Alex’s office for so long.

When you got settled back in the projection booth and the credits began to roll, you took a minute to think about what the fuck had just happened, and when you opened your phone, the list of his stupid fucking westerns was still on it. But that was Alex, and maybe you liked that about him.

A/N: yeah like i said... self indulgent (i used to work at a cinema lol). but i'm already obsessed with this version of alex ahh.