#Alex turner fanfic

[goblinontour]

Awkwardly Stretching And Yawning

it’s always hard in the morning (would have been the better title but I’ve already used it)

warnings: fetus!al, fluff, smut, piv, young and in love, it’s cheesy

word count: 8k

His hair was sweaty the first time you met him, and it was sweaty every single time after that. Even in the cold, when the wind bit through your coat and left you shivering, his dark strands still clung damp to his forehead like he’d just run a marathon. He wasn’t a runner. You were sure of that — he was slow, always trailing behind like he had nowhere urgent to be. You’d once joked about it, something about snails moving faster than him, and he’d just grinned lazily, all soft lips and cockiness, like he knew something you didn’t.

Still, the sweat lingered. It made no sense, but you didn’t mind. It was the kind of detail you’d come to think of as uniquely his. Something only you knew because you were the one who reached for him. Always. Your hands threading through his hair, the damp strands slipping between your fingers as you pulled him closer — close enough to kiss, close enough to feel the heat radiating off his skin like he’d been out in the sun all day.  

Sometimes, you’d do it just to see what he’d do. Just to watch that stupid grin break across his face like it couldn’t be helped, like he couldn’t stop himself from leaning into the touch no matter how hard he tried to pull away. “Stop that.” he’d mumble, though his voice never carried any real weight, his hands always ghosting at your waist or curling around your wrists like he wanted you to keep going.  

You always did. It was impossible not to.  

And maybe you should’ve teased him more about it. His perpetually sweaty hair, his inability to keep from leaning into you — but you never did. Because when you pulled him closer, when his grin faltered just a little and his breath hitched, you felt it. That shift. Like the world had stilled, leaving only the two of you in its quiet aftermath. His hair was damp, yes, but it was real, and it was his, and you could never resist tangling your fingers into it just to feel something so alive beneath your touch. 

Now you’re in his lap, his hands splayed warm across your thighs, and your fingers are tangled in his hair like they always are. It’s still damp. Of course it is. But now you can blame it on the heater turned up to the max, the radiator rattling like it might burst, the heat heavy in the air and curling around you like smoke. It’s stifling, almost unbearable, and you swear you can feel it searing into you from across the room.  

You don’t care.  

Because you’re kissing him, and you’ve been kissing him for so long that you’ve forgotten where you are, forgotten the way the rest of the world feels. You’ve kissed him until your lips feel raw, tender and buzzing like a spark waiting to catch. Until your chest aches from holding your breath for him, like breathing was a luxury you’d trade just to stay close.  

And then you’re forced to pull away, gasping, your head swimming.  

His lips are red and slick, his hair more disheveled than it ever was before, and he’s looking at you with that expression like he knows exactly what he’s doing to you. He licks his lips and it makes you want to kiss him all over again, the pull of it deep and restless in your chest.  

“Hot in here, isn’t it?” he murmurs, low and rough, words pressed out like he’s trying to catch his breath too.  

You huff a laugh, your hands sliding from his hair to his jaw, your thumbs brushing over the invisible stubble that’s just starting to show. “Yeah. Your fault, though.”  

His grin is slow and lazy, the kind of smile that makes you feel like he’s got you figured out, even when he hasn’t. “The heater?”  

“You.” you correct, nudging his forehead with yours.  

And you’re still so close you can feel his breath fan against your lips when he laughs. “I’m the problem?”  

“Always.”  

It’s teasing. You don’t mean it. Not really. Because there’s something about him that’s always been so easy, so natural, like you’ve known him your whole life, even if you hadn’t. It’s in the way he lets you pull at his hair, in the way he leans into you like you’re the only thing he needs. It’s in the way he’s looking at you now. 

You press your palms against his cheeks because you feel like you might float away without something holding you there. “You’re sweaty again.” you murmur.  

He groans, his head falling back with a dramatic thud. “It’s hot in here. Not my fault.”  

You roll your eyes, though you’re smiling. “I don’t mind.”  

“No?”  

“No.” you say, threading your fingers through his hair again, pulling just slightly so he tilts his head back to meet you. “Not if it’s you.”  

And maybe you’ve been kissing him all afternoon, maybe your lips are already swollen and your body is buzzing from the heat of him, but you kiss him again anyway. Slower this time. Like you’ve got all the time in the world. Because you do. You’re still young, and his room feels like the only place on earth that matters, and this is enough for you to live off of.  

His hair is damp, and his lips are soft, and his arms curl around you like he couldn’t hold you close enough if he tried. And for once, you don’t feel like teasing him about it. You just kiss him. 

When you break apart again his hands rest on your thighs, just barely there, and when you look at him, he’s grinning again — that slow, lopsided smile that’s all teeth and something else that makes your stomach flip. You roll your eyes at him, pressing your hands to his chest to steady yourself as you climb off, and he lets out this little whine of protest, though he doesn’t stop you.  

It’s later, and the heat of the room has settled into something quieter. You’re perched at the edge of his bed, rummaging through your bag with a growing sense of dread because, of course, you didn’t pack pyjamas. It wasn’t supposed to be an overnight thing. You were just supposed to hang out, maybe grab dinner, and then leave, but plans like that never stick when you’re with him. He’s too good at convincing you to stay longer, to forget the time.  

So now you’re stuck, turning your bag inside out like maybe a pair of shorts will appear, but nothing does. “You’ve got to be kidding me.” you mutter, looking over at him where he’s sprawled on his back, flipping a pen between his fingers.  

“What?” he asks, looking up with that innocent tilt of his head, like he hasn’t been watching you the whole time.  

You hesitate for a second before deciding not to care. “Nothing.” you mumble. You grab one of his shirts from the drawer — soft and a little worn, smelling like him — and strip off your jeans and sweater. You change with your back to him, just enough skin showing to get a reaction if he’s looking, but still leaving enough covered for modesty’s sake. His shirt hangs loose over your frame, brushing against the tops of your thighs, and you tug at the hem to make sure it’s long enough. You glance over your shoulder just in time to catch him biting his bottom lip, trying to look nonchalant about it.  

The corner of your mouth lifts. “What?”  

“Nothing.” he says, too quickly.  

You smile to yourself as you climb back onto the bed, sitting cross-legged near the pillows. “I forgot pyjamas.” you explain, tugging at the hem of his shirt again. “Totally not intentional, by the way.”  

He snorts, rolling onto his side to look at you properly, his hand propping up his head. “Sure it wasn’t.”  

“It wasn’t.” you insist. “Staying the night wasn’t the plan, remember?” You pause, biting your lip. “Is it okay? If I stay, uh, with your…”  

“Me parents?” he finishes for you.  

“Yeah.” 

His expression softens. “’Course it’s okay. They like you.”  

“Yeah?” you ask, glancing at him.  

“Yeah.” he says simply, his smile warm and a little boyish, and you know he doesn’t give it to just anyone.  

That quiet admission makes your chest ache in the best way. You watch him as he rolls out of bed, muttering something about needing to change too, and he starts pacing toward the corner where a pile of clothes sits precariously on his desk chair. You curl up beneath the blanket, watching as he picks through the heap, holding up shirts and tossing them aside.  

He’s smiling to himself as he sifts through the mess, the muscles in his back shifting under his skin. You can’t look away, even when you try to, and when he pulls his shirt off over his head, you stare. It’s instinctual, automatic. Even from a distance, you can see the little mole on the side of his ribs, and something about it makes you want to reach out and touch him, to trace the lines of him with your fingertips, to kiss him there just to see if he’ll shiver.  

You want to hold him. You want to kiss him until you can’t feel your lips again. You want to press your face into the crook of his neck and breathe him in.  

Oh, god. You’re really, terribly in love, aren’t you?  

“Eh, stop staring, you perv.” he says suddenly, teasing but his ears turn a little red as he tosses a shirt over his shoulder.  

You snap your gaze up to his face, cheeks flushing. “I’m not-”  

“Yes, you are.” he interrupts, grinning as he finally finds something that looks halfway clean. “Don’t think I don’t notice.”  

“I wasn’t staring.” you protest weakly, though you both know it’s a lie.  

He’s unbuttoning his jeans now, and you realise you hadn’t even noticed, too distracted by the more sensible top half of him. The more sensitive half, too, if you’re being honest. Ugh.  

He shimmies out of his jeans, and you bury your face in the pillow, groaning. But you don’t bury your face for long. Curiosity — or something far more dangerous — gets the better of you, and you glance up just in time to see him standing there in his boxers. The lamplight in the corner of his room catches on the soft angles of him, the long stretch of his legs, the slight dip of his hips, the way the waistband clings low. He’s lean but solid, just enough muscle to make him look effortlessly strong, the kind of strength that doesn’t demand to be noticed but somehow always is. His skin is pale in places where the sun hasn’t kissed it, and you swear there’s a faint flush climbing up his chest like maybe he knows you’re still watching.  

Then he turns, his back to you, just like you’d done when you changed earlier. He’s not subtle about it. He bends slightly as he peels off his boxers, and you don’t mean to stare — well, not really — but his butt is right there, perfectly shaped and smooth, and for a second you think about biting it, just to see what he’d do. If the bed weren’t so comfortable, if you weren’t tucked in just so, you might’ve actually gone for it.  

He knows. Of course he knows.  

“Enjoying the view?” he calls over his shoulder.  

“Shut up.” you mumble. You don’t look away.  

He’s tugging on a clean pair of boxers now. When he turns back around, he’s grinning — softly this time. He’s caught you red-handed but doesn’t mind one bit.  

You roll onto your side, pressing your face half into the pillow to hide the warmth in your cheeks. “Don’t flatter yourself.”  

He laughs, that low, throaty sound that always makes you smile. He crosses the room and climbs back into bed, the mattress dipping under his weight as he settles in beside you. 

“You stared, though.” he teases, turning his head to look at you.  

“You undressed in front of me.” you counter, narrowing your eyes at him even though you’re smiling.  

He shrugs, all nonchalance. “You started it.”  

You huff, turning to face him properly, and he’s close now, close enough that you can see the way his lashes brush his cheeks when he blinks. You want to kiss him again, but you’re too tired, too comfortable, too full of something soft and sweet that makes your chest ache.  

“What?” he murmurs, voice softer now.  

“Nothing.” you say, shaking your head.  

You’re still curled up, his shirt falling loosely around you, and when you peek at him, he’s looking at you too. 

“What?” you whisper, barely audible.  

“Nothing.” he murmurs back, shaking his head. But he’s still looking at you like you’re something he doesn’t quite know how to put into words. 

And you think, maybe, you’re looking at him the exact same way. 

“Your hair’s a mess.” 

He scoffs, rolling his eyes. “Yeah, well, whose fault is that? Yours.” he says immediately, propping himself up on his elbow. “You’re the one who kept running your hands through it.”  

“Because it’s always sweaty.” you shoot back, glancing at him out of the corner of your eye.  

He groans, flopping onto his back beside you. “Why do you keep bringing that up?”  

“Because it’s true.”  

“It’s endearing.” he mumbles, like he’s convincing himself.  

“It is.” you agree, and his head turns toward you, surprised. You look over at him, your expression softening. “It’s gross, but it’s cute. Like you.”  

He stares at you for a second, his lips twitching like he’s trying not to smile, and then he laughs. “You’re so mean.” he says, but his voice is fond, and he’s still smiling when he turns his head back toward the ceiling.  

“You like it.” you say. “Masochist.”

“Yeah.” he murmurs, almost to himself. “I do.”  

It’s quiet for a while after that. His arm brushes against yours as he shifts, and you think about reaching for his hand but decide against it.  

“What time is it?” you ask eventually, your voice cutting through the stillness.  

He twists to glance at the clock on his nightstand, squinting. “Half past midnight.”  

You groan, pressing your hands to your face. “I have class tomorrow.”  

“Skip it.” he says, so casual it makes you laugh.  

“You skip too much already.” you say, nudging him with your elbow.  

“Yeah, but I’m not you. You’re responsible. You’ve got, like…notes and shit.”  

“Notes and shit.” you echo, grinning.  

He shrugs, turning onto his side to face you. “It’s a compliment. You’re smart. Like, scary smart. Sometimes I think you’re gonna realise you’re too good for me and leave.”  

You blink at him, surprised by the sudden turn, and then you shake your head, rolling onto your side to face him too. “That’s the dumbest thing you’ve ever said.”  

“It’s true, though.” 

“Alex.” you say, reaching out to brush your fingers over his knuckles where his hand rests between you. “You’re, like, my favorite person. Ever. I’m not going anywhere.”  

He stares at you, trying to find the words, but then he just nods. “Good.” he murmurs.  

“Good.” you repeat, smiling.  

And for a while, neither of you says anything. You just lie there, the space between you warm and buzzing, and when you close your eyes, you think you could stay like this forever.

It’s quiet, the hum of the heater filling the room, and the faint rhythm of Alex’s breathing beside you is already slowing. His right arm is tucked under your waist, holding you close, while your left hand rests just beneath the curve of his chest. You can feel the rise and fall of his breaths and it’s grounding in a way that makes your eyes flutter shut.  

He’s the first to doze, just like always. It’s something you’ve come to expect from him — how his tired eyes will eventually drift shut, his breathing will even out, and the little tension in his body will melt away. Sometimes, you wonder if he fakes it, just to escape the nerves that still creep up on him when you’re this close. But not tonight. Tonight, it’s all real, all soft breaths and tiny, quiet snores that have that same nasally tone as his voice.  

You shift, feeling his arm tighten instinctively around you even in sleep, like his body knows to keep you near. He doesn’t move much when he sleeps — always calm, always still—but you’re restless. You can’t help it.  

It starts small, just a subtle roll of your hips as you try to find a better position, but it never stops there. Halfway through the night, you turn over, your arm slipping from under his chest. Then you turn again, pulling the blanket with you, and then once more until you’re on your stomach, tangled in the sheets.  

He doesn’t stir, not even when your movements tug at the arm he has slung over you. But somehow, by the time dawn starts to creep through the window, you manage to end up back where you started. It’s always a guessing game — whether you’ll wake up as you fell asleep or in some entirely different arrangement.  

This time you’ve got it and you open your eyes to his face pressed into the pillow, and his hair’s a mess, sticking up in all directions. The first light of morning spills across him, catching on the curve of his cheekbone, the line of his jaw.  

You sigh quietly, turning away from him because the proximity is too much. If you had easy access to his lips for a second longer, you’d cave, and you know it. But you can’t — not now, not with your morning breath making itself known. You cringe a little at the thought, pressing your face into the pillow.  

Oh fuck. Do you even have a toothbrush here?

The thought nags at you for a moment, but you shove it aside. Later. You’ll figure it out later.

You settle into the sheets again, your back to him, hoping to drift off for just a little longer. But then he stirs, his arm tightening around your waist as his chest presses closer to your back. His nose nudges against the back of your neck, warm and soft, and you almost melt into the touch.  

And then you feel it.  

Your body goes completely still, frozen as the unmistakable pressure of him presses against you, firm and insistent. What the fuck.

Okay, yes, you’ve slept together before — slept. As in, shared a bed, tangled limbs, whispered secrets into the night. But this? This is new.  

You’re no stranger to intimacy with him. You’ve done things — things that have left you breathless, aching, satisfied. You’ve seen him naked, and he’s seen you. You’ve taken him in your mouth, made him groan your name. He’s touched you, too, kissed you there, made you come undone with his tongue and fingers in ways you didn’t know were possible. Equally mutual satisfactory fulfilment. 

But you haven’t done it together. Not yet. Not because you don’t want to, but because time has never been on your side. It’s always been a stolen moment here, a rushed goodbye there. Too much tension and not enough space to let it all unravel.  

You bite your lip, your mind racing. He’s so close, too close, and the heat pooling between your thighs is impossible to ignore. You’re…oh, God, you’re dripping just thinking about it. But now isn’t the time — not with his parents in the room down the hall, not with him lost in his dreams, innocent in his state of unintentional desire.  

You shift slightly, trying to ease the tension without waking him, but it only makes things worse. The movement causes him to press against you more firmly, and you have to bite back a whimper.  

Okay, okay, breathe. Think unsexy thoughts. Math equations. Old textbooks. Your friend’s crush on her weird philosophy professor.

But none of it works when his hand tightens on your hip and his body is so warm against yours.  

“Alex.” you whisper, barely audible, hoping he doesn’t wake up but also kind of hoping he does because then maybe-

No. No, not now. Later. Later, when you have more time and privacy and not the looming threat of his parents overhearing something they definitely shouldn’t.  

You squeeze your eyes shut, willing your body to calm down, and after a few agonizing minutes, you feel his grip slacken, his body relaxing again. His breathing evens out and he’s still fast asleep. You exhale shakily, trying to steady yourself, and then close your eyes again, determined to fall back into some semblance of rest.  

Later, you tell yourself again. And God, you hope later comes soon. 

But later seems to be now because before you can settle yourself, you feel it — him, again. His hips shift behind you, pressing insistently against you, the heat and firmness of him unmistakable. He’s…rutting into you.  

Your breath catches, heart racing, and you think, No. He has to still be asleep. Right?

The soft, steady rhythm of his snores continues, only confirming it. And then they falter, turning into a deep, rough cough that rattles through his chest. He stirs, pulling back from you just enough to stretch, his arm leaving your waist. You can hear his joints pop as he yawns, long and loud.  

You don’t dare move, still frozen, thighs pressed tightly together in an effort to keep your body from betraying you.  

He turns toward you, his eyes heavy-lidded and his hair sticking up in every direction, but there’s no mistaking it: he’s awake now. And yet, the duvet is still covering him from the waist down, doing nothing to hide the outline of him. Oh, he’s very much awake.  

“Morning.” he whispers, his voice deep and scratchy, rough from sleep.  

“Morning.” you manage, though it comes out quieter, tighter.  

He doesn’t seem to notice, instead rolling onto his back and stretching again. You take the opportunity to lean over, pressing your face into the spot between his arm and chest. The crook of his armpit, warm and soft, the place where his skin smells the most like him. You inhale deeply, savoring the scent of him, that mix of sweat and soap and something you can’t describe but is so unmistakably Alex.  

He huffs a laugh, looking down at you as you nuzzle into him like a cat. “You weirdo.” he murmurs, his hand lazily brushing over your back.  

You’re too caught up in the warmth of him, in the way your nose fits perfectly there, in how his skin feels against yours even through the thin fabric of his shirt to respond. 

He shifts again, turning onto his side and pulling you with him, his arm draping over your waist. His thigh hitches over your hip, pulling you closer, and it’s only then that you feel him again.  

Pressed against you, hard and obvious, and he doesn’t even realise it. You hold your breath as he rubs against you, slow and absentminded, his body moving on instinct alone. It’s clear his brain hasn’t caught up yet. He’s still in that hazy space between sleep and waking, where dreams and reality blur together.  

But you are fully aware. Too aware. Every nerve in your body is alight, and the ache between your thighs is impossible to ignore.  

“Alex.” you whisper, your voice trembling just enough to give you away.  

He hums in response, his nose brushing against your shoulder as he pulls you even closer. His hand rests on your hip, his thumb stroking idly over the fabric of his shirt that you’re wearing, and he presses against you again.  

Your resolve is hanging by a thread, your body screaming for you to move, to push back, to let this moment become what it so desperately wants to be.  

But his breathing evens out again, and his lips brush your shoulder in a subconscious kiss, soft and lazy.  

“Alex.” you say again, a little louder this time, and his eyes finally flutter open, the hazy warmth in them clearing as his mind catches up to his body.  

“Oh, fuck.” he mutters, his cheeks flushing as he freezes, his hand still on your hip. “Oh, fuck.” he mutters again, louder this time, his face going beet red as he pulls back the covers to confirm what he already knows.  

And yep, there it is. His hard-on, unapologetic and obvious, tenting his boxers in a way that would’ve been funny if he weren’t so mortified.  

“Shit.” he hisses, scrambling to cover himself again. He turns away from you in his panic, rolling onto his stomach like that’ll fix it.

It doesn’t.  

As soon as his hips hit the mattress, he lets out a strangled noise, his face scrunching in pain.  

“Fuck- ow-” He twists awkwardly, trying to lift his hips off the bed, his voice breaking into a groan as he clutches the duvet beneath him.  

You can’t help it — you laugh. It’s not a mean laugh, more like a surprised, delighted giggle that bubbles out before you can stop it. “Alex.” you manage, caught somewhere between concern and amusement.  

He’s still half-buried in the mattress, his arms bracing against the bed, trying to hold himself up without putting pressure on his…situation. “Don’t.” he grumbles, his voice muffled. “Don’t laugh at me.”  

“I’m not.” you lie, even as your shoulders shake with barely contained laughter. “Come here, you idiot.”  

He groans again but finally relents, pushing himself off the mattress and turning back to you, his face still flushed. He flops into your arms like he’s seeking refuge, burying his head in your neck and mumbling something unintelligible against your skin.  

“What was that?” you ask, still grinning as you wrap your arms around him, pulling him close.  

“I said, I’m never waking up again.” 

“Oh, sure.” you tease, running your fingers through his hair. “That’ll fix everything.”  

He groans again, his hand resting on your waist as he tries to melt into you. Maybe if he stays there long enough he’ll just disappear.  

You lean back slightly, tilting your head to look at him, and you can’t help but smile at the way his eyes are squeezed shut, his nose scrunched in embarrassment. “Good morning.” 

He finally cracks one eye open. “Good morning.” he mutters back, his lips twitching like he’s fighting a smile of his own. “Sorry,” he whispers, “didn’t- didn’t mean to-”  

“It’s fine.” you cut him off. And it is. Fine. More than fine, actually. But you don’t say that part.  

He hangs awkwardly next to you, hovering just far enough away that it doesn’t touch you, his arm still draped over your waist but with a noticeable gap now. You can feel the tension, the way he’s holding himself stiffly to keep his hips from brushing against yours like that’ll make the situation less obvious.  

“Were you dreaming?” you ask.  

He shakes his head, face still tucked into your neck. “Nah.”  

“Then?”  

There’s a pause, and then he giggles, this soft, boyish sound and it makes your heart flip. “Think the knowledge of you half-naked in my bed was enough.”  

You laugh softly, your chest warming at his honesty. “Dirty boy.”  

He grins, his confidence peeking through despite the blush still dusting his cheeks. “Yeah, well, you’re the one wearing my shirt and no pants, so…”  

You can feel his gaze on you, lingering where the hem of his shirt just barely skims the tops of your thighs as you press them together, suddenly hyper-aware of the dampness pooling between them. “It’s comfortable.” you mumble.  

He hums, his hand brushing over your hip. “Yeah.” he says, almost distractedly. “Looks good on you, though.”  

Your leg brushes against his. He tenses. He’s still trying so hard to keep his distance, and it’s endearing in a way that makes you want to push him just a little. “You’re really embarrassed, huh?” 

You glance up at him, catching the way his eyes flicker to yours before darting back down again. He’s trying so hard not to stare, not to make it obvious how much he wants you right now, but the flush creeping up his neck and the way he’s nervously biting the inside of his cheek gives him away.  

“Maybe.” he mutters, his voice muffled. “It’s a little hard to be suave when you wake up like this.”  

“Who said anything about suave?” You drag your fingers lightly down the back of his neck, feeling the slight shiver that runs through him. “You’re cute when you’re flustered.”  

“Don’t.” he groans.  

“Don’t what?” you ask, feigning innocence as your fingers trail lower, grazing his back.  

“Don’t- ugh- don’t mess with me.”  

“I’m not messing with you.” you say softly, your hand sliding lower until it rests on his hip, dangerously close to the duvet-covered evidence of exactly how not fine he is. “You’re the one who woke up like this.”  

“Yeah, well…” He trails off, biting his lip as he glances down. “Thought you said it was fine.” 

“It is.” Your hand moves just a little higher, brushing against his stomach, and he exhales sharply.  

“You’re playing with fire.” he warns, though it’s half-hearted at best, his hips twitching involuntarily toward your touch.  

You shift closer, your lips brushing his jaw as your hand moves lower, skimming over the waistband of his boxers. “Maybe I want to get burned.”  

His breath stutters and he doesn’t move, just staring at you like he’s trying to figure out if you’re serious. Then his hand moves, sliding down your side and over your hip, his fingers brushing the edge of your panties.  

“Al…” you say, your voice barely above a whisper, and he looks up at you, his lips parting like he’s about to respond. But he doesn’t get the chance.  

Your hand trails down.  

“Wait-” he stammers, his own flying to catch yours, though he doesn’t actually stop you.  

“Wait for what?” 

His breath catches again, and his hips shift, pressing against your hand. You can feel him, hard and insistent beneath the thin fabric, and it sends a thrill through you.  

His hand moves too, hesitant, his fingers brushing over your thigh before creeping higher. They hover between your legs, just barely grazing. You can feel his breath against your neck, shaky and shallow, before his fingers dip lower.

When he touches you — just barely, a featherlight graze over the damp fabric — you shudder, your thighs twitching.

“Shit.” he breathes, his voice low and strained.

And then he freezes.

“Oh, my God.” he mutters, his eyes snapping open as his hand flies back to your hip.  

“What?” 

“You’re…” He trails off, his eyes flickering down, and you realise what he means. He felt it — the wet patch on your panties where they’ve been soaked through. “You’re so wet.” he whispers, almost like he doesn’t mean to say it out loud. 

You shrug, your cheeks burning even as you try to play it off. “Well, you’re hard.” 

“Don’t say that.” he mumbles, his voice muffled against your skin.  

“Why not?” you tease, your hand trailing back up to rest on his chest. “It’s true.”  

He doesn’t respond, just lets out a low, frustrated laugh before finally meeting your eyes again. Pupils dark and blown wide, and there’s a quiet, unspoken question in them.  

“Alex.” you say softly, your hand sliding up to cup his cheek.  

“Yeah?” 

“Stop overthinking.”  

And with that, you lean in, pressing your lips to his in a kiss that’s slow and sweet and just a little bit desperate. Your hands splay against his chest as you settle over him, his erection pressing against you in a way that makes your whole body flush.  

“Still embarrassed?” It comes out breathier than you intended.  

His hands find your thighs, sliding up and under the hem of his shirt that you’re still wearing. “Shut up.” he mutters. 

“Make me.” 

“I can do that.” he says, and then he dips forward, capturing your lips with his.  

A tender slide of mouths that sends butterflies spiraling through your chest, all teeth and tongues and the kind of frantic energy that makes your heart pound so hard it’s all you can hear. But when you press down — accidentally, just slightly — and brush against him just so, you both gasp into it.  

It’s instinctive, the way you press into him, your body seeking friction and finding it. The pressure so delicious. A steady drag of him against you. His hands tighten on your waist, guiding you as you move, and when your lips break apart, it’s only because you need air.  

When you’re not kissing him, you’re biting his lip, tugging at it just enough to make him gasp. And when you’re not biting his lip, you’re biting your own, trying to keep quiet because you’re all too aware of the thin walls.  

But it’s hard to stay quiet when every roll of your hips sends a new wave of heat pooling low in your belly, and the sound of his breathing makes you want to give in completely.  

“Fuck.” he mutters, and the way he looks at you — lips swollen, hair messy, cheeks flushed — makes you want to ruin him.  

You lean down, capturing his lips again. And then you press down just a little harder, the angle shifting just enough to hit just right.  

It’s game over.  

“Can I?” he asks, barely above a whisper. His hand hovers at your hip, thumb grazing the edge of your panties. The intention is clear: more, baby, give me more, I need more.

You nod. That’s all he needs.  

His hand trembles slightly as he moves it lower, brushing over the curve of your thigh before tugging at the fabric, fumbling as he tries to pull it down. You lift your hips to help him, the movement brushing you against him again, and he groans low in his throat, his breath shaky as he finally gets the panties down far enough to push them aside.  

Then he pauses. “You’re sure?” he asks, his voice cracking just a little.  

You nod again, more emphatically this time. “Yes,” you murmur, your hands sliding up his chest, under his shirt, feeling the warmth of his skin beneath your palms. “Yes, Alex.”  

It’s enough.  

He fumbles again as he reaches for himself, pushing his boxers down with a little too much force, and his dick springs free, flushed and hard and — oh god — so close. It would almost be funny, the way he struggles to get the fabric out of the way, but it’s not. It’s really, really not, because all you can think about is how much you want him.  

So bad.  

His breath catches as he looks down at you, his hand wrapping around himself almost instinctively, and you feel your whole body tighten at the sight.  

“You’re so-” He cuts himself off, shaking his head like he can’t even find the words, his free hand sliding up to cup your face. “I want you.” he says, his voice raw, his thumb brushing over your cheek. “So much.”  

You press your forehead to his, your hands gripping his shoulders as you whisper, “Then take me.”  

“Okay.” His breath stutters, his eyes squeezing shut for a moment before he shifts, guiding himself to you. He hesitates, just for a second, lips brushing yours as he whispers, “Tell me if-”  

“I will.” 

And then he pushes forward, just barely, and you gasp, your nails digging into his shoulders as he fills you slowly, carefully, like he’s afraid of hurting you.  

“Oh, fuck.” he breathes, his voice trembling, holding himself back, trying to stay in control. He groans as he sinks deeper.  

And then he’s finally there, fully there, and you both pause, your breaths mingling as you adjust to the feeling, the weight, the sheer intimacy of it all.  

It’s everything. It’s too much. It’s not enough.  

And then he moves.

“Fuck, that feels so good.” he whispers, the words spilling out of him unguarded, and you can’t help the quiet sound that escapes your throat, a soft, needy confirmation that yes — yes, it feels so good.  

You shift your hips against him, slow and deliberate, so slow that anyone watching wouldn’t even know you’re moving. But inside, he’s shifting with every tiny motion, and the stretch, the fullness — it’s overwhelming. He’s so big, and every inch of him feels like it was made to fit you, and you’re not sure how you’ve gone this long without knowing this feeling.  

“Wait.” he says suddenly, his hands gripping your hips to still you.  

You stop immediately, your lips parted, your teeth catching on your bottom lip as you remember how undone you must look. Your hair is a mess, sticking out in every direction from the night before, and you’re sure there are still traces of sleep in the corners of your eyes. It hits like a bucket of cold water, and you want to disappear, to bury your face in his pillow and hide from the thought that he might see you like this and regret everything. But he doesn’t pull away. He leans in, pressing a soft kiss to your cheek, an apology written in the tenderness of it.  

“Don’t.” he murmurs, and it’s like he can see the insecurity blooming in your mind. And then it hits you — he’s inside you. His body is wrapped around yours, his hands holding you like you’re the most precious thing in the world. It’s far too late for him to find you repulsive.  

You exhale shakily, relaxing into his touch just as he says, “We didn’t- I didn’t put on a- a…” He stumbles over the words, his face flushing as he looks up at you.  

“A rubber?” you offer. 

“Yeah. Fuck.” he mutters, his hand running through his already-messy hair.  

You know you should care. You should be concerned, should pull away and figure it out. But the thought barely registers, drowned out by the heat pooling low and the way he’s looking at you, all flushed cheeks and wide eyes and breathless uncertainty.  

“Alex.” you whisper, and he looks up at you like you’ve just spoken the most important word in the world. You lean down, your lips brushing his, and kiss him softly, slowly, until you feel the tension melt from his body, his lips moving against yours like he’s already forgotten the interruption.  

“Fuck it.” he breathes against your mouth, low and desperate, and you can feel the smile tugging at his lips as you press your forehead to his.  

“Fuck it.” you agree, and the moment you start moving again, the rest of the world disappears.

It’s soft. It’s lazy. Not so lazy that it doesn’t feel good — because it does. It feels too good. Like, you-know-will-ruin-you kinda good. The kind of good that turns your world upside down and leaves you wondering how you’ll ever survive without it again. And it’s not just the way he’s touching you or the way he fits inside you. It’s the way he looks at you. It’s dangerous, this feeling. You can already sense it sinking into your bones, settling deep in your veins, and you fear you’ll never get it out. How are you supposed to pull away from him when it feels like this? 

“God,” he breathes, his voice wrecked, “you’re perfect.” He laughs softly before he says “Can’t believe we waited this long.” 

“Worth it.” 

“Yeah.” he agrees, his hands sliding up to cradle your face. “Yeah, you’re worth it.”  

So honest, so sure that it has you pressing closer, your body trembling as the pleasure builds slowly, steadily, until it feels like it’s wrapping around you, pulling you under.  

“Alex.” you whisper, and his eyes lock onto yours, dark and full of something that feels so much bigger than the two of you.  

“I’ve got you.” he says, his voice steady despite the tremor in his hands. “I’ve got you, babe.”  

It’s so much. There’s so much of him — his length, his heat, the way his hip bones graze yours with every thrust. Each motion feels impossibly intimate, like he’s carving himself into you, piece by piece, and you can’t help the way your fingers dig into his chest, searching for something to hold onto.  

“Takin’ me so well.” he whispers, a secret meant only for you.  

The words make you whimper, a soft, broken sound that you wish could say everything you’re feeling. But it’s not enough, and you almost feel bad that you can’t muster anything more coherent in return. You hope he understands. You hope the way you’re falling apart over him — every little gasp, every shudder, every desperate press of your hips — tells him he’s doing good. Tells him he’s doing everything right.  

“God, love.” he breathes. His movements are still slow, but there’s more purpose now, more urgency, like he’s teetering on the edge and holding back just for you. “Feel so good. So fuckin’ good.”  

He’s hitting that perfect spot inside you that has you seeing stars and your body’s giving in. He’s pulling you down so your chest is flush with his, and his lips find your neck, brushing kisses along your skin that make you shiver. You can feel him twitching inside you, every little pulse. He’s losing control, you can tell, and it’s making you lose it right along with him.  

“Fuck-” he groans, his voice breaking, “I’m- I’m close. So close. Really close.” His head tilts back against the pillow, his mouth open as he gasps for air, and it’s the most beautiful thing you’ve ever seen. He’s a mess beneath you, and it’s everything you’ve ever wanted. “I- how do I- tell me what to-”  

You know what he’s asking. He wants to make you fall apart, just like he is, but his brain is too scrambled to figure out how. Your hand moves instinctively, grabbing his wrist and guiding it between your legs.  

“Here.” you whisper, pressing his fingers where you need them. “Just- like this.”  

He gets it. He gets it so right. The circles he’s drawing are perfect, the pressure just enough to have you keening softly as your thighs begin to tremble.  

“That’s it.” he says. 

You’re shaking now, your body so tense you feel like you might break apart. His hand keeps working between you, his cock throbbing inside you with every desperate thrust, and you’re so gone. There’s no other way to describe it. You’re gone for him, gone because of him, gone with him. White-hot and all-consuming. Your walls clamp down around him, and he chokes out a curse, his hips faltering as he tries to keep moving through the vice grip.  

“Fuck- fuck.” he groans, his eyes squeezing shut, his face scrunching up like he’s in pain. “You’re- oh, my god, love, I’m- I’m gonna-” 

He’s fighting it. But you’re still pulsing around him, your body shaking with the aftershocks, and it’s too much for him. “I need to-” he stammers, his breath catching as he pulls out. 

The sudden emptiness makes you whimper, and you glance down just in time to see him. He’s slick and flushed, his cock impossibly hard and glistening from you, and the moment the cool air touches him, he gasps. He strokes tightly, quickly, his fist sliding over the slickness you’ve left behind. 

“Oh-” His free hand clutches at the sheets, his hips bucking up into his own grip. You’re transfixed.  

It only takes a few strokes before he’s gone, a choked moan spilling from his lips as his body tenses. His cock jerks in his hand, and he comes hard, painting his covered chest with thick, messy ropes that glisten in the soft morning light. He keeps stroking himself through it, his thighs trembling beneath you. You can’t help but reach out, your fingers brushing over the sticky mess he’s made. He groans at the touch, his hand falling away as he finally collapses against the bed, utterly spent.  

“Holy fuck.” he whispers. There’s a flush high on his cheeks, and his chest is still heaving as he tries to catch his breath. You collapse against him, your face buried in his neck, and he’s still gasping.  

“Yeah.” you giggle, and he laughs too.  

It’s messy, it’s clumsy, it’s perfect.

You stay draped over him, your cheek pressed against his collarbone as his arms lazily wrap around you. You just want to stay like this — floating in the quiet of the morning, the hum of his breath against your temple.  

After a few moments, he huffs a soft laugh, his chest rising beneath you.  

“What?” you ask, your voice muffled against his skin.  

“Just…y’know. That.” he says. “Wasn’t exactly how I imagined it’d go, but-”  

“Oh, shut up.” you say, swatting at his chest, and he winces dramatically.  

“Careful.” he teases. “Still recovering here. You wore me out.”  

You roll your eyes, but you’re smiling. Neither of you mentions the obvious — what just happened, the closeness of it, how real it all feels. It’s not awkward, though. Just…warm.  

“God, you’re heavy.” he murmurs, teasing, his voice still soft with the afterglow.  

“Shut up.” you mutter, lips brushing against the curve of his neck. “You’re sticky.”  

There’s a comfortable silence for a beat, the two of you just basking in each other. It’s peaceful, or it would be if Alex weren’t incapable of keeping still for longer than thirty seconds. He shifts, testing the waters, and then — suddenly — he’s twisting you both around, flipping you onto your back as he props himself up on his elbows above you.  

“Alex!” you squeak. “What the hell-”  

His laugh is bright, filling the room as he nuzzles his face into your shoulder. “Oh my God.” he says, dragging the words out as if he’s just had the greatest epiphany of his life. “You’re mine. I’ve got you. Right here. In. My. Bed.”  

“Alex.” you hiss, trying to keep your voice down as you squirm under him. “Shut up! What if-”  

He cuts you off with a kiss to your forehead, his grin so wide it’s getting infectious. “What if my parents hear?” he finishes for you.

“Yes, exactly!”  

“They won’t.” He pulls back, still grinning like a madman. “They’re not even here. They leave for work early, remember?”  

You blink at him, momentarily stunned. “Oh.”  

“Oh.” he mimics, laughing again. “We’re free, baby. Just you, me, and this very comfortable bed.”  

You groan, slapping his arm. “You couldn’t have told me that before?”  

“Before what?” 

“You know what.” you huff, trying to look annoyed but failing miserably because he’s looking at you like that.  

He props his chin on your chest, right between that valley of breasts. “Not talking about it, are we?” 

“Talking about what?” You blink, all mock innocence, and you roll your eyes.  

“You know what.” His grin widens, and for a second, you think he’s going to say something ridiculous but he stays quiet. 

“Maybe later.” you murmur, and he hums in agreement.  

“Relax, love.” he says, his voice dropping to something softer, gentler. “We’re good. Promise.”  

You narrow your eyes at him, but his smile is too infectious, and eventually, you find yourself smiling back.  

“You’re lucky you’re cute.” you grumble, and he laughs, leaning down to press a kiss to the tip of your nose.  

“I know.” 

a/n: This somehow went on so long but it feels very fast paced to me? I like it though. I think it turned out cute. I think I really want him. Based on this request.

[doctor-dusk]

𝐰𝐢𝐥𝐥 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐩𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐦𝐞 𝐨𝐧𝐞 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐫𝐨𝐚𝐝? | 𝐚𝐥𝐞𝐱 𝐭.

four margaritas and a bathroom break, please.

warnings: soft dom!alex, semi-public sex (piv), fingering (f receiving), a bit of a handjob and blowjob. 

word count: 6.7k

series masterlist

hello? is anyone still here? as you can see, i’m not dead (yet). i forgot about 60% of what i was supposed to write in this part during my disappearance lol i'm so fucked up lately, but i hope you enjoy it anyway :)

as the week went on, you found yourself getting more and more anxious to see him. it wasn’t like you couldn’t leave the house at night. of course you could. as long as you let your parents know if you were going to sleep at home or not and where you were.

when you said you were going to a pub, your mother scrunched her nose. it wasn’t exactly the kind of place she wanted you to go to, but she trusted you enough to know that you wouldn’t do anything that would make her have to leave the house to pick you up from the hospital or the police station. besides, she knew you weren't a little girl anymore.

alex would have liked to be able to pick you up so you could go together, but he needed to be there much earlier to get everything ready, but you didn't see a problem in taking a taxi to get there. it wasn't that far, but not that close either.

a place you had never heard of, but it seemed to be pretty popular when the taxi dropped you off a few meters from the entrance since parking in front was prohibited. you didn't get there that late, maybe around 7:45 pm. the small queue, but you knew the place was probably already packed.

the smell of vodka mixed with nicotine hung in the air. it wasn't exactly your favorite smell in the world, but you knew how to ignore it. you waited patiently in line, listening to the guys behind you talk about subjects that ranged from having sex with the pharmacy receptionist at the end of the day to exponential calculus tests.

‘’evening.’’ the security guard said to you when it was your turn. he was kind of intimidating, a huge tattoo covered his left arm and you were sure that if he flicked you you would end up on the other side of the street. ‘’id, please.’’

you held out your id card, seeing him take a good look, flicking his eyes between you and the card.

‘’it's not fake, i swear.’’ you said a little nervously. you didn't even need to be nervous, actually. he chuckled.

‘’you just look younger. careful there, doll.’’ he said, handing you back your id and letting you in. you gave a weak smile and walked in, taking in the new atmosphere around you.

surprisingly, it was a vibrant and lively place. imagine a cozy kind of environment, with soft lights and a decor that could range from rustic to modern. the round tables were full of people chatting animatedly, laughing and enjoying each other's company, a bit tipsy already. you walked slowly through the space, passing close to the kitchen to head towards the bar. the aroma of delicious snacks like fries, chicken wings and burgers permeates the air, inviting everyone to try. in one corner, there might be a pool table or a dart board, where friends compete amicably. 

at the bar, the two bartenders are busy preparing a variety of drinks, from craft beers to elaborate cocktails. the sound of clinking glasses and laughter mixes with the background music, which was limited to loud classic rock.

you looked for him there, but you couldn't see him. for a moment, you wondered if you were in the right place. but it couldn't be any other. this was the address, this was the name of the place.

you sat shyly on a stool, hands on your lap as you looked around restlessly.

“hello, dear. what can i get you tonight?” a bartender approached you, quickly wiping the counter with an orange cloth.

“uhm... i'm looking for alex.”

“well, we don't have that drink around here.” he said with a chuckle. you felt like rolling your eyes, but you knew he was probably just making fun of you.

“no, the bartender.” you specified patiently.

“turner or jenkins?” he asked. you stayed silent. what was his last name? you didn't even know. you only knew him as alex. he never told you his last name and you never tried to find out either. he noticed that you were quiet for a long time. “let me guess, is he hot?”

“pretty much.” you chuckled. he let out another chuckle.

“yep, it's turner.” he said, putting the flannel on his shoulder. “i'll get him.” he said, walking away to go to the door near the liquor shelf. “turner, you have a customer here!” he shouted loud enough for even you to hear.

a few seconds later, he appeared in your field of vision. you never imagined seeing him so... formal? you don't know how to explain better. a pair of slim black tailored pants to match the vest with all the buttons fastened over the ironed white shirt, sleeves rolled up to near the elbows. and oh, of course, the damn hair slicked back with gel. just the sight of him made you press your thighs together, but you'd be lying if you said his surprised smile didn't get you too.

‘’she said she wanted 'the hot alex'.’’ the other bartender teased him.

‘’fuck off, jenkins.’’ alex snapped back at him, almost hitting his colleague in the shoulder with the white flannel he was holding.

oh, so that was alex jenkins? yeah, it makes sense that he's not considered hot. or maybe he was, you just didn't think he was your type.

‘’hey, i thought you were going to tell me you got here.’’ alex said, his arms itching to hug you, but he just held your hand, giving you a quick kiss on your cheek. you understood that, he was working, whether he liked it or not. maybe it wouldn't be very appropriate for the attendant to be flirting with a customer there.

you smiled at him, feeling the delicacy of his touch, no matter how rough some areas of his hand were. ‘’i didn't mean to disturb you.’’ you replied and he scoffed softly.

‘’nonsense. i was checking my phone every five seconds.’’ he chuckled, tapping his cell phone in the front pocket of his pants. ‘’besides, it's not like i’m busy here. it's just a get-together, really.’’ he said as you looked around again.

‘’it seems like a nice place.’’ you commented. 

‘’when it's not crowded, it is.’’ he finished, pinching your cheek so you could look back at him. ‘’you look gorgeous, by the way.’’

it didn't matter how many times he complimented you, you always felt this way. your cheeks flushing, your heart skipping a beat as a shy smile appeared on your lips. he knew the effect he had on you, and he loved it.

‘’you look good too.’’ you said, taking a look at him again, taking in his outfit as far as your eyes could see.

he chuckled, scratching just above his right eyebrow. ‘’i'm pretty average. and definitely sweaty as hell, the inside is like an oven.’’ he pointed briefly to the door that led to the pub's interior, a place where only employees were allowed to enter. you never thought you could find someone attractive in a simple bartender's outfit. but oh, alex turner was capable of many things. the thought made you grin slightly, which didn't go unnoticed by him. ‘’what?’’

‘’'turner, huh?’’ you asked, wiggling your eyebrows a bit as you leaned your elbows on the glass bar counter, your shoulders tensing a bit.‘’i didn't know that was your last name.’’

‘’you never asked, love.’’ he retorted as you shrugged next. it was fair.

‘’it suits you.’’ you replied, the corners of his lips lifting in a subtle smirk. oh, he looked so good under those dim lights. devourable.

‘’and you know what suits you?’’ he asked, playing along as the word ‘you’ left his lips in a charming and flirty tone. you shook your head. ‘’a margarita.’’

you chuckled as he started to select the drinks he would use, sanitizing everything with a skill you didn't know he had, but you were certainly entertained. it was hot.

‘’the last margarita i had in my life wasn't good.’’ you told him as he sprinkled sea salt on the rim of the glass, making sure nothing was missing.

‘’forget everything else you've had in your life. this one's going to be special.’’ he winked at you, perfectly measuring the doses of tequila, lime juice and cointreau inside the glass, so impeccable that he seemed to know how to do it with his eyes closed if he could.

“and why?” you asked with a subtle smile. he noticed the way you bit your bottom lip, slowly making the lipstick that pigmented your lips disappear.

“because i made this one. just for you, baby.” he answered, placing a napkin under the base of the drink glass, finishing with a thin slice of lemon on the rim of the glass, handing it to you.

you looked at the drink. there was nothing there that made it unpleasant to the eyes. you looked back to him. “what if i don't like it?”

“i'll make it up to you later.” he suggested, the tone of his voice made your mind go places.

“so i hated it.” you joked, making him burst out laughing. you loved when he laughed. it was such a good sound to hear, even in a relatively noisy environment like that.

“silly girl.” he reached to poke your chin with his thumb, making you giggle a bit. “one sip is all i ask of you.”

you didn't take long. the liquid went down your throat like a delicious burning ember. your eyes threatened to water a little, making you close them tightly until you got used to the strong taste of the gin on your taste buds. 

“so?” he asked with a hint of expectation, paying attention to your reactions. you clicked your tongue against the roof of your mouth, the strong taste of alcohol still lingering in your mouth. 

“not bad, turner.” you replied. "but i think maybe i need one more.” 

and it happened that he prepared two more drinks for you. god, you would drink 30 drinks if it meant seeing how the muscles in his arms flexed when he mixed the drink with the shaker, so agile and fast and hot. you didn't know if your body was now hot because of the alcohol or the immense desire to pounce on him and fuck him on top of that bar counter.

of course alex couldn't talk to you all the time. as a bartender, he had his demands and he had other customers to meet the orders. but his eyes were on you all the time, checking on you. and vice versa. you didn't mind the fact that he was working there. you understood that in the end and admired that even while working, he still wanted to make time for you.

you weren't drunk, at least not drunk enough. you were a bit tipsy, but you were still sober. sober enough to throw silly smiles at him whenever he looked at you. you couldn't help it, he was so…

“i want one more." you said as soon as he got close to you again after finishing the other orders.

“i think you've had too much to drink, young lady.” he tilted his head, looking at you, finding your flushed cheeks and half-lidded eyes so adorable, even though he was minimally concerned about how much you drank, he didn't know if you knew how to handle alcohol well.

“just one for the road.” you said, gesturing with your empty drink glass, batting your eyelashes at him. oh, how could he resist you?

“just one.” he pointed out, starting to prepare another drink for you. he took advantage of the fact that you weren't so oblivious to him to add less gin than usual and top up the rest with water so as not to make the drink too strong for you. 

when he turned to use the shaker, your eyes were on him again. you felt your mouth dry and the dampness between your legs increased like a waterfall. it was funny not to say that you were exploding with lust here with so little. 

running your not-so-discreet eyes over him, you noticed something you hadn't noticed before that only served as an icing on the cake. “nice tattoo.” you said and he frowned, following your eyes to his left forearm.

“oh, this?” he chuckled while he left the finished drink on the counter for you. “haven't you noticed before?" 

you felt kind of stupid for not noticing the tattoo sooner. you didn't remember a time when this tattoo appeared on omegle dates, or in the photos and videos he sent you. you paid attention to every detail of him and yet you let it go.

you tried to downplay it a bit, resting your elbow on the counter. “well, maybe i was too busy paying attention to something else to notice the tattoo.” you said before sipping the fourth and final margarita of the night. he seemed to like your answer. 

“getting frisky, baby. maybe it wouldn’t be a bad idea to let you drink a little every now and then.” he flirted back, his hands itched and twitched so he could tuck a strand of hair behind your ear or squeeze your flushed cheeks with his long fingers. 

“only if you want to watch me vomit my organs the next day.” you joked, watching him scrunching his nose. god, his beautiful nose. you still remember the way his nose felt against you and…

“you liked it?” he asked, rolling the sleeve a bit more so he could show you the tattoo properly. you turned your head a little, paying attention to the details of that tattoo. a rose — it wasn't colored, with the name ‘sheffield’ right below it. “it's my hometown.”

“it's a pretty tattoo." you replied, seeing that his eyes were now on the tattoo. “do you miss it there?”

“fuck, a lot.” he confirmed. “i love that city. my parents and relatives still live there." 

you nodded slowly. he really seemed to miss it there and liked the city to the point of tattooing it on his skin. you understood that it seemed to mean a lot to him.

“and why did you move here?” you kept asking. you didn't even know if it was right to ask him, if you weren't being too invasive by asking about his life, but you couldn't help but want to know at least a little more about him. damn, until 1 hour ago you didn't even know his last name and that he had a tattoo on his forearm.

“ah, y'know… i was young and stupid. i tried to follow some silly dreams and it didn't work out very well.” he explained very briefly, not sounding very enthusiastic about it.

you asked yourself about his dreams. why didn't they work? why did he end up standing there behind a pub counter making drinks? was he happy with it? as if he was feeling your doubts swirling around in your mind, not wanting to prolong the topic, he cleared his throat and offered a quiet smile.

"so love, i'm going to take my 20 minute break in a bit. wanna have some fun?”  

you didn't know when or how, but you now found yourself in the tiny restroom in the employee-only area. alex managed to sneak in with you after he was sure there was no one there to catch you by surprise, as if the two of you were reckless teenagers who blamed the night for the wild fun that was about to happen.

‘’do you think 20 minutes will be enough?’’ you asked him as he carefully pushed you into the bathroom, his large hands squeezing and circling your waist as if he needed to make sure you were real.

‘’it has to be enough.’’ he murmured, his mouth too busy kissing the back of your neck, nipping your skin and recording how the taste was mixed with the soft taste of your perfume impregnated on your skin. ‘’fuck, i've been dying to touch you. do you know how hard it is to control myself when you look so hot like this?’’ he growled against your skin, eliciting the most sincere and insane shivers from you, his words wrapping around your lustful thoughts like iron chains.

you barely had time to respond or wonder if he had done this before with somebody else. his hands grabbed your hips, forcing you to turn around so he could crush your lips with his in a fierce kiss. as he deepened the kiss by sticking his tongue in your mouth to taste the gin, he easily lifted you to sit on the bathroom counter. you felt your skin crawl at the cold contact of the counter on your skin, but it soon faded away when the firm touch of his hands on your thighs did the work of warming you from the inside out, as if you were erupting.

oh, you loved the way his tongue seemed to tie knots with yours, just throwing more fuel on a flame that seemed impossible to burn any more, feeding the anguish of never being satisfied with a touch or a kiss.

his hands, always so eager and hungry for you, moved between your legs, lifting your dress up to your hips, his fingers roaming and feeling the material of your panties in an act of anticipation.

“you sure about it?” he broke the kiss just to ask you that. it was the second time he asked. he wanted to make sure you were sober enough to know what was going on and if you really wanted it. 

“yes, alex. i'm not that drunk.” you reassured him, pulling him back so you could keep kissing. this put his mind at ease, because both he and you knew the risks, he would never want to do something with you completely out of your mind and out of control while he was sober. 

between kisses and nibbles, he had already dragged your panties down your legs, the piece now pooling at your ankles for a few seconds before falling to the floor. the music from the pub seemed to play inside you, vibrating and accelerating your heart rate.

the air seemed to disappear from your lungs as quickly as it entered when his fingertips teased your entrance, circling around the newly wet hole. you thought it was ridiculous the way he could make you feel like this. you wished you could hate it if the desire for him didn't burn so bright and strong.

‘’what get you so wet already, baby?’’ he murmured against the skin of your neck, a smirk forming on his lips as you whimpered. ‘’was it the margarita?’’

you felt his nose sliding along the line of your jaw as he traced teasing kisses, the length of his fingers already becoming lubricated just by the light act of sliding up and down. your saliva was thick when you licked your lips, ready to answer him. ‘’you. just you.’’ you said, your hands sneaking on his sides, feeling the smooth fabric of the black vest over the white shirt.

‘’just me, eh? mhm, i bet so.’’ he hummed, his tone slightly cocky as he slipped his two long digits inside you, your cunt clenching immediately around his fingers, as if it were automatic, as if you were just waiting for him, gripping his fingers like a vice. ‘’missing me, i suppose.’’

you held back a moan as he withdrew his fingers, as if it were the weirdest thing in the world to no longer feel his touch in such an intimate way, stretching your walls. you felt those same fingers parting your folds, his head tilting and angling so he could see you better under the bathroom light, practically groaning at the sight of your glistening cunt, clenching around nothing, as if it were screaming in agony because of the emptiness he had left.

‘’so pretty. don't worry, baby, i've been missing you too.’’ he whispered, his eyes looking back at you, stealing a soft kiss that soon turned into a desperate one, and your hands were already undoing his belt, somehow your brain reminding you that you needed to be quick, even though you loved the idea of ​​listening to him praising you all night long inside that bathroom.

so, you wasted no time in pulling down his pants, letting it pool on his ankles, his boxers on his thighs and his hard cock bouncing free before you wrapped your hand around him, feeling the protruding veins in contact with your fingers.

and apparently, just that stimulus was enough to give you one of the best views of your life: turner's eyes were narrowing and his adam's apple was pulsing up and down, almost in time with your soft strokes on him.

‘’fuck baby, see what you do to me? you barely touched me and i'm already hard as fuck.’’ he hissed, his fingers going back inside you, making you throw your head back against the bathroom tile, the burning desire getting the best of you now that you didn't even care about the idea of ​​being fingered inside the employees' bathroom of a pub in the west side of the city.

you slid your thumb along his tip, pressing softly on the slit, spreading the precum all around it like it was your favorite pastime. it wasn't like he didn't like it too, he would love to spend hours there, touching you, fingering you until his hand fell off, but he was impatient. and worse, he didn't have time.

his fingers abandoned you once again, going straight to his mouth, tasting you while his other hand went into his pocket to get a condom. one thing you liked about him was that he always seemed prepared, although a selfish and even reckless part of you wanted him to fuck you raw and fill you up like you were some kind of dessert to stuff.

your eyes vaguely registered when he tore the foil packaging with his teeth, spitting the small piece of packaging in an unknown place. you couldn't explain it, but god, this was fucking sexy, and above all, exciting.

one moment you had your hand around his cock, and the next moment you were grabbing his arms as he entered you in a single, fluid movement, burying himself to the hilt, the sensation eliciting a groan from both of you as if it were a relief, as if this were equated to drinking a glass of ice-cold water on a hot day.

it was inexplicable and certainly unfair how, even under the influence of alcohol, you thought alex looked a million times more beautiful and hot like this, under the incandescent light of a nightclub bathroom. the music outside tried, but nothing pleased your ears more than his moans muffled by the burning skin of your neck, and nothing hypnotized you more than the way his hair looked even more beautiful with the ebony strands betraying the fixing gel and rebelling as they fell over his softly furrowed and sweaty forehead.

his arms formed hooks around your thighs, a series of pat pat pat’s sounds bounced all over the walls as alex buried his face into your neck, his balls slapping against your ass as he shoved his dick inside of you over and over and over again, the sound mixing with the panting sounds that escaped from both of your mouths.

his eyes fluttered open to look at you, feeling his heart pounding in his throat at the sight of you, so flushed and handed over to him. ‘’will it be weird if i say that i've been going crazy lately thinking about how much i wanted to fuck you like this?’’ he asked, his nose wrinkled slightly, trying to concentrate on not getting lost in you so quickly. you couldn't tell if he found it romantic or sexy. maybe both.

you didn't answer him, letting your hands wander from his shoulders to his neck, your fingers grabbing the strands of hair on the back of his head, torturing him deliciously with the tugs while he rested his forehead on your exposed shoulder, his lips kissing the skin of your collarbone in a sloppily and ardent way.

yearning to feel your lips against his, his right, veiny hand goes to your neck, his four fingers gripping your nape while his thumb rests on your throat. he wasn't gripping tightly, just enough to feel your rapid pulse, pulling your face closer for a leisurely kiss.

“god, i love how fucking tight you feel.” he mumbled between the kiss, rolling his hips to make sure you felt every inch of him inside you, filling you.

and you, equally distressed, moved your hands to undo the buttons of his shirt, but soon you remembered that he was wearing a vest over it, and consequently it would be a lot of work, so you moved your hands down, trailing under his shirt, just wanting to feel the warm skin of his abs against your palms, following the now rapid movement of his hips against yours.

you felt like you were in a cloud of tingling, your body responded to his every stimulus when you started frantically grinding your hips against his, rolling your body in desperate need. a low, guttural noise rumbled from his throat as his body responded on instinct. without meaning to, his hands tightened on you, gripping your neck and hip to leverage as you moved against him.

it was satisfying for him to feel how your legs began to tremble gently, but without any control and your eyes closed tightly with your head going back. you're close. so close.

his hand left your neck, knowing that now it was up to him to increase your pleasure even more, because now in addition to fucking you senseless, he added his thumb to the stimulus, circling it lazily, but with just the right pressure on your sensitive, pulsing nerves.

‘’alex, please…’’ you mumbled, your hips failing to keep up the rolling motion because you were already at your limit, turning into a quivering mess with how well he was fucking you.

‘’i know, baby, cum on my cock.’’ he said, almost like an order, but he was just as desperate as you. not only because he was hanging by a thread, but also because he didn't have any more time. ‘’please, i need you to cum, love.’’ he muttered, maybe more to himself than to you, he barely cared if he didn't cum in the end. if anyone had to leave here fully satisfied, he'd rather it be you.

you barely had time to ask him not to stop, hit fat tip hitting your cervix over and over sent you over the edge faster than you expected, needing only a few more deep thrusts and a few more clumsy movements of your hips for you to cum on his cock, just as he had ordered, creaming all over him, the white excess collecting at the base of the condom around the base of his cock.

‘’fuck, that's it, baby…’’ he breathed out, feeling how your cunt throbbed deliciously around him, trying not to stimulate you too much, but he felt he was so close, he could already feel his body heating up as if he were inside a pressure cooker, it was impossible for him to stop his thrusts completely.

you grabbed his shoulder, your fingers gripping the material of his shirt. you didn't know how or why, but you just blurted out the words to him. ‘’cum on my mouth.’’ you said to him, yearning for him to finish just like you. maybe you really should blame the drink for giving you this urge to say this. to want this.

‘’fuck the manager,’’ alex thought.

‘’get down on your knees.’’ he said, quickly pulling out of you, discarding the condom as you placed your shaking knees on the cold bathroom floor, opening your mouth, battling your lashes at him. it seemed so unreal, the closest you had ever gotten to it was on camera, that huge and veiny cock taking over the screen of your phone or laptop, and now it was there right in your face, looking more delicious than ever, pulsing and begging for release.

and without further ado, his cock was in your mouth, but not completely. your lips, all swollen and red from your nibbling, sucked hard at his tip, pulling the foreskin back to expose it more to your lips. his hips jerked softly and his right hand stroked the rest of the length you couldn't reach with your mouth. you looked up at him, but you couldn't see his expression because his head was thrown back, concentrating on not missing the rhythm of his strokes while his other hand squeezed the back of your neck.

‘’that’s it, fuck, ‘m gonna cum.’’ he announced, feeling the orgasm overtaking him as he fucked his fist, feeling your tongue licking the leaking tip as he looked down at you for a second, the sight being enough to make him lose that little control he still had.

alex closed his eyes tightly, throwing his head back as he felt the fire in his belly flare, and blood rushes to his ears in a buzz as he came, the thick, gooey, hot white liquid flying in a jet onto your tongue, reaching the back of your throat, almost making you choke on the surprise of the salty cum teasing your taste buds.

but you swallowed it like a good girl, licking it all up while he had a hard time controlling his legs so he wouldn't collapse on the floor like a puppet without strings.

‘’god, fuck.’’ he breathed out finally, his eyes looking for yours as he held your gauze, brushing your hair out of your face, bewitched by the sight of you licking him clean. it was an amazing sight. you're amazing for him.

before he could ask if you were okay, a knock was heard on the door, startling the two who were still recovering from the aftershocks.

‘turner, are you there?’’ the voice on the other side asked. alex was relieved to know that it was just one of his colleagues. it would be worse if it was the manager.

‘’yeah.’’ alex forced himself to answer, his thumb resting on your cheek discreetly as you kept silent.

‘’don't forget that the box is yours today.’’ he said and alex snorted softly.

‘’yeah, yeah, i know.’’ he replied and soon you heard the footsteps moving away. you swallowed, still feeling the taste of him in your mouth mixed with the taste of the now weak gin.

“are you in trouble?” you asked. he chuckled, shaking his head in denial.

“no, honey. it's part of today's job. you know, cleaning the tables and arranging the chairs in the box.” he sighed, his hand putting his limp cock back into the confines of his boxers. he helped you stand up, holding you by the hand and waist to make sure you could balance yourself.

“i can wait for you.” you said, but the truth is that you didn't know what time he would finish there, and he didn't want to leave you standing there either.

he shook his head softly, buckling his belt again, kissing your forehead after you put your panties back on. “nah, don't worry. come on, i'll take you home.”

“but aren't you working yet?” you asked worriedly.

“yes, but it's okay. i arrived early today, so i'll make up for it by staying longer on break.” he answered unconcernedly. his boss seemed to give him this flexibility, which didn't make him so apprehensive.

after the two of you had tidied yourselves up to look a little more presentable, alex was the first to leave the bathroom, looking around to confirm that it was safe for you to leave as well. he guided the way towards the adjacent exit, usually where employees entered and exited, which coincidentally led to the parking lot. you could already see his motorcycle parked in the first row.

“would you rather take a taxi?” he asked you before disabling the motorcycle alarm. you frowned slightly. “i mean, you had a little too much to drink there.”

“no, no, i'm good, i can handle it.” you shook your head, finding his concern for you kind of cute. he agreed, handing you the helmet.

even though you said it was okay, alex didn't drive very fast. every now and then, he would put his hand over yours around his waist to make sure you were steady, checking you out at every stop at the traffic light. the wind sounded like a muffled hum through the helmet, your body felt light, but it wasn't because of the drink, of course. you couldn't help but feel that way with him.

you knew that a trip by motorcycle tends to be faster than by car, so it didn't take long for him to stop the motorcycle near your house, in the same spot as last time. you went down slowly, resting your hands on his shoulders to get down, feeling him holding you by the waist to give you more support to get down safely.

“are you okay?” he asked, watching you take off your helmet and hand it to him, your hair was a bit messy, not that you cared.

“yeah.” you answered, looking at him, seeing that he was looking at you intently. "what?" 

he shook his head, taking off his helmet too. “nothing, i… just think that i owe you apologies.” 

your frown deepened. why would he need to apologize to you? you didn't think he had done anything that needed apologizing, but he felt it. before you could ask why, he grabbed your hand, pulling you closer so he could wrap his arm around your waist and rest his chin on your shoulder.

“i don't think it was very appropriate to take you to the place where i work. i mean, you only went there because of me and i was working the whole time instead of being able to stay with you and focus only on you.” he said, you could feel his jaw moving as he spoke, his tone and voice was regretful. 

“no, alex.” you said, pulling back a bit so you could look at him, your eyes searching his under the low light of the streetlight near you. “don't worry about it. i enjoyed coming and watching you work.” 

“i know, princess, i just…” he sighed, his fingers cradling the strands of your hair to tuck it behind your ear. “i just wanted to have a proper date with you, to look at you, to talk to you, to kiss you…”

you smiled. he seemed to be very honest about it, you could feel it in his voice and the way he looked at you. you shook your head softly, hugging him, your hands sliding up and down his curved back as he hugged you back.

“it's not like you can't take me on a proper date next time.” you reassured him. “but i'm okay with it, really. i just wanted to see you, no matter what. besides, i've never had sex in a nightclub bathroom. it was quite the experience.”

he chuckled through his nose, you felt the warm air hitting your hair and the skin on your neck. he liked the way you always saw the good in the end.

“well, i can't say the same, but i certainly never did that while i was working,” he admitted. not that he was sorry or afraid of losing his job. “but it was amazing. it's always amazing with you.”

you felt the butterflies in your stomach going wild. even though you were telling yourself that this was all just casual, just fun for the two of you, you couldn't help it, you surrendered more and more to him. and at the moment, it didn't seem to worry you.

alex pressed a soft kiss to your neck, his hand on your lower back keeping you close to him. “is there any chance you'll be free on monday?" he murmured against your neck.

“nope.” you answered and he huffed softly.

“tuesday? wednesday? thursday?" he continued asking between kisses on your neck that made you giggle and shiver.

“on thursday." you replied and he hummed victoriously, pulling his head back to look at you. 

“and what do you want to do?” he asked, wanting to know if you felt like doing something, going out somewhere. you thought for a bit, not quite coming to a conclusion. you didn't really like going out to places, you liked a calm, reserved meeting in a comfortable place.

“i don't really have a preference.” you shrugged as he nodded slowly, thinking that was his cue to suggest something that the two of you might enjoy doing as long as you were together.

“well, in that case, knowing that the closest i can get to your house is on the sidewalk, what do you think of going to my place? we can play, watch a movie, make dinner or order something to eat…” he suggested, not knowing exactly if you would like the idea. for the first time, he was feeling insecure about doing something with you. 

you thought a little about his proposal, wondering if he felt the same way as you did. 

“well, of course we won't just do that, we can fuck all night long too if you want." he chuckled, his words making you think he was being his normal self again. “but if you don't want to, we don't fuck, no problem." he said, you noticed his tone was nervous as he continued talking. “i just wanted you to know that i don't just want to have sex with you, i really like being with you and doing other things besides that and..." 

you silenced him with a soft kiss, taking him by surprise, chuckling at the way he seemed to swallow his words.

“alex, it's okay. i get what you mean.” you caressed the skin of his cheek with your thumb, making him feel like a weight has been lifted off his shoulders. “your place, at 7pm?” 

“perfect.” he whispered before placing another soft kiss on your lips. “i’ll come get you here." 

“okay.” you smiled. “i think you have to go now. the box is waiting for you.”

“fucking hell, i had completely forgotten about that." he groaned in defeat, laying his forehead on your shoulder, squeezing you a little tighter against him, knowing he needed to go. “you make me lose track of time sometimes, girl.”

“i guess that's my charm.” you chuckled, feeling his lips crashing with slight desperation against yours, as if he wanted to taste as much of you as possible before he left. his tongue explored your entire mouth, and he could swear he could taste himself on your tongue. 

“probably. you make me not want to leave.” he said, panting softly as he squeezed your hips one last time before finally letting go. “but yeah, duty calls.”

“let me know when you get home.” you said. you always said that and he always kept his promises, even if he got home very late and you were already asleep, you would wake up more relieved the next day knowing that he was safe at home when you saw the message on your screen.

like last time, he waited for you to come home safely. he waved one last time and left, speeding up the bike so he could get to the pub as quickly as possible. 

on the other hand, you went to your room carefully and in short steps so as not to wake anyone, looking at your reflection as soon as you entered the bathroom. you were a mess, but a good mess. after a quick shower, you passed out on the bed, feeling a bit boneless, but so good, your mind reliving everything that happened that night like an erotic movie.

and you could hardly wait for thursday to arrive.

a/n: should i keep this taglist? honestly, i've forgotten how to post here :')

taglist: @thenightslikeawhirlwind, @goblinontour, @yourstartreatment

[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

[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.

[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.

...

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[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…”

[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

[annasfantasies]

Sugar 2

/alex turner x fem!reader

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。..・。.・゜✭・.・

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‼️

[futuristicanoe]

in between my heart and my head

He is like a cat sometimes, isn't he?

One weird morning. He is tired, you braid his hair, he ends up on your lap.

• nsfw/mature themes. Implied: personal issues, unspecified age/age gap, insomnia, some emotional mess, unhealthy coping mechanisms, tears, possible subspace but it is not directly addressed, faulty communication. (?)

Alex is hovering over the living room table, comparing his messy notes from two different notebooks.

"These are..." he holds his breath softly, and you know his bottom lip is caught under his front teeth, even though you aren't looking at him, "exactly the same..." He huffs.

You are looking at the open book in your hands, not really reading anymore. Your eyebrows furrow.

He murmurs something incoherent, more to himself and the notebooks than you. But you can sense the confusion rumbling in his chest. You only hear pages being turned. Then hear a few of them being ripped out.

"I don't... think anyone sober can understand your handwriting, let alone notes, Alex–"

Your mouth snaps shut when he suddenly groans out a rather loud, "fucking hell."

"What's wrong?" You turn around, putting the book away. Your question is genuine, unlike that earlier comment, you can tell something is actually stressing him out. When you really look at him, taking the whole picture in, he looks like something ripped out of a rich man's magazine. He's leaning on the table, shoulders tense, his once-ironed button-up creasing, wrinkling... His hair is all over his face. And the sunshine coming in from the windows just pierces through the strands...

It brings a faint smile to your face. He couldn't be more annoyed with the situation his hair had left him in.

He's kind of glowing, and you think he looks awfully pretty when his brow is troubled and there's a sigh waiting to leave his chest. As you know for sure, that's how he looks right now. But his hair is all in his eyes, falling down in soft waves over his face.

Alex shuts the notebooks closed, squeezing the crumpled up papers in his hands once again, as if saying a bitter goodbye, before throwing them in the trash bin.

He notices a hair tie on his wrist.

He's been keeping it on him at all times, just for you. It's your favourite one. A pink-purple silly thing.

With no hesitation, he grabs the hair tie from his wrist and wraps his hair up in a tiny and kind of... odd ponytail. Definitely not the one his precious hair deserves to be made into.

He just stands like that. One of his hands finds itself on his cocked hip out of habit. He seems tired.

"Alex?" You call out softly.

He actually notices your presence now and judging by his expression, it seems like the first time he has done that today, even though you even made him a cup of tea in the morning. You glance at the table in front of him, noticing how the teacup seems so untouched and out of place you could have felt bad for it. If Alex did not look just as bad, that is. He turns around to meet your gaze. His eyes are droopy. You'd normally assume it's because he just woke up, but you are sure he got no actual sleep.

"Come here," you say, gesturing towards the couch you are sitting on. He lets his hand fall limp, leave his waist. His wrist feels suddenly exposed, as if it was your hair tie keeping the skin and bones comfortably stitched together.

... Okay, Alex walks like an old man. A man older than he actually is, to be quite specific.

He's slouching a bit, but his spine still seems stiff. He drops himself on the couch. Not without pushing his trousers up slightly and spreading his thighs, of course. He rests back on the cushions. Just as he's about to let out the umpteenth sigh of the day, he feels the hair tie dig into the back of his head. Alex just closes his eyes in annoyance, and you can see them roll under his eyelids. The ultimate and sometimes involuntary way of showing defeat in the battle between Alex and expressing true emotions. Some would say it is just a rude, thoughtless gesture. You don't believe that, not in this house, not when he's alone with you.

You frown at him, can feel his entire form oozing unease and tension.

"Look at me, Al..." you say, reaching out to brush his hair away from his clammy forehead. "That's not how you are supposed to tie a ponytail, love." Alex's eyes open, and you swear his eyelashes are big enough to make some kind of comical sound when he moves his eyes, but they just flutter open slowly. More like butterfly wings than tiger lashes — drawing attention, but without trying. Or wanting to.

"I just... hate ponytails," he drawls that last word like it offends him, "It's not long enough for them — me hair. Or maybe it is, I don't know, but it doesn't look good, never did. I just look mental."

Alex feels pretty similar to a leaf that would fall down in the rain with unfaltering eagerness if it meant it'd be forgotten forever. He is sluggish, with his brain goopy and hands numb. But there is a fluttery feeling consuming him from the inside. Tickling his ribs and making his eyes glossy. He is feeling fragile. Needy. Hungry... for what?

You?

You grab his shoulders gently, trying to wrap him up in a hug, but he grumbles like a teddy bear, so you pause.

Why?

When you look at his face, you know that he's not protesting because he doesn't want your touch. It's because he is just being... himself, really. Your Alex, he is just like that sometimes. Needs a bit of pushing and pulling and shoving to keep going. So instead of saying something cocky, like he might have done in your place, you put one leg over him and settle down on his lap.

Ah...

Alex doesn't know what to do with himself. A few seconds ago you were just a soft touch ghosting over his skin, but now you are everywhere. Spilling over his lap and filling in every gap you can find. His hands grip your shoulders, as if imitating your tug at him from earlier, before dropping, cradling your hips in a tight, but gentle hold. He is not trapping you, but he might be steadying himself. His heart thumps much faster than it would have if he knew what he wanted to happen next. Excitement and fatigue merge into each other and become one. He just traces your hip bones with his thumbs.

He whines quietly when you hush him and draw a line with your finger down his nose. It takes a jokingly muttered "Easy, sunshine..." to have his grip on you loosen up. And how you love his nose. The way it has changed so much. Just like everything else. Which is natural, but you found it fascinating how people always thought of him as "old", even back then, when he was just a boy with a messy mop of hair and a messier life ahead. None of that now, though, because you look down at him, and he is... terribly beautiful. This Alex, always a treasure. Trapped under your weight and God help him, but he can't even help himself and not love it, not want more, more, until he is struggling to breathe. Your finger comes down over his cupid's bow, feeling the bit of stubble– you stop there, raising your chin.

"What got you all riled up?" Your words leave your lips quietly, as if you already know his answer is gonna be something for you to keep as a little secret.

A little gift.

He keeps looking at you like a tree full of owls. Only blinking, breathing, before he talks and you remind yourself he is really just a man.

"You gonna... take care of me?"

Alex's words do not really sound like something others would expect to escape his mind. But, then again, that happens a lot. Not just when he is like this, like that, he is just unpredictable and peculiar and pretty and all it does is all humans ever want to do, yes— keep everyone else on their toes, never sure when they're gonna fall over, no idea where they are gonna end up. He hates it.

"I just... miss you. And I can't keep meself from thinking about you, too, even though you are just–" he holds his hands up for a bit, mouth slightly open, he meets your gaze, "I know I can just come to you, I know you fucking love that," he chuckles, "when I ask for you and all you've got to give, when I say darling, and may I, but it is difficult, sometimes, you know what I mean? I wan–"

You decide to end his babbling and put your thumb on his bottom lip. So pink and pouty, you just have to press the sharpness of your nail into it. He tries to close his mouth and talk simultaneously, but you do not let him do either. So he just whines quietly again.

"I'm gonna– let's see..." you pretend to consider your next move. As if you were not already planning all of it, when you saw how he tried to tie his hair up earlier. Leaving his lips hesitantly, you put your palms on either sides of his face, before letting them slide up his cheekbones and hold his curls in a fake pony tail, ignoring the actual hair band around the mess, "Gonna take care of your pretty hair."

"Hmm?"

"Think I wanna braid your hair." You say, dropping your hands from his head and taking your pink-purple tie back with a swift motion. You look down at it with a fond smile. "I haven't seen this one for a while."

Alex just smiles softly for a few seconds. A distant thing that only he can make look sweet and candied, that smile. "I wanted to be the one to give it to you, whenever you- wanted to be there when you'd need it, at least, I'd think twice about giving it to you. A silly bobble, that is. Grows on you like the fucking... ivy or something..."

You keep your smile sweet when you look at him now. Impossible not to smile back at him... these things keep happening. However, you never got the chance to braid his hair. Or you did... oh, you got a chance like this a bunch of times. Maybe you just like seeing him need something you can identify and offer with practised ease.

The next second, you are getting up from his lap, sitting beside him once again. You do not even need to look at his pants to know they are taut in the middle.

"Al, turn around for me, c'mon." You say, tapping his thigh.

Alex does not mean to, but he pouts.

You raise both of your eyebrows. "Oh, you don't wanna stop seein' me? That it?" You say, cracking a smile at his behaviour.

He nods, licking his lips. You grab the small mirror from the table next to you and drop it on his lap, and you are grateful he catches it before it slides down onto the floor because, another seven years of bad luck, as he'd probably say, do not seem very appealing right now.

After another tap on his thigh, and a nudge to his side, and a head tilt towards the tiny mirror that meant: 'you're gonna hold this up for me, so you're gonna be watching the both of us to a certain extent', you've got him looking pretty while sitting on the floor with his back in front of you, the hair comb he always seems to have with him clutched in one of your hands, that silly hair bobble in the other. You get to work.

You start by brushing and pulling his hair all the way back, which doesn't go as smoothly as you thought it would. Because there's no pomade or gel or anything to really control the mess of his truly unruly hair.

"You don't look that bad with ponytails, though, you know. I just remembered what you said earlier," you keep talking calmly, brushing his hair in a soothing manner.

"Mmmm... yeah. It's not that- it hurts my head, mostly. Not pain, exactly, but feels like me scalp is gonna fall off either way. And then it's also that my hair isn't ever properly long or properly straight, like... convenient for that. When any middle schooler looks better than you, with a ponytail, you are definitely staying home. Or you know, I just don't want people to see and imagine me, like... as the guy in a crazy man bun or summat." He huffs out a laugh when you say that people have, in fact, seen him in a 'man bun' more than once. The only response you get after that is a drawled, "just not my thing, love. It's like being seen in public with a friend you hate and people thinkin' you are gonna marry her."

You hum. The ring on your hand catches some of his hair uncomfortably, which causes a tug on his scalp. You hear a shaky breath leave his chest and glimpse the reflection of you two in his little mirror trembling... It proves to be difficult not to grin or say something mean.

"I love your widow's peak." You decide to be sweet instead, leaning over his head and kissing the pointy part of his hairline. His cheeks turn pink and you laugh. Alex tilts his head back, looking in your eyes with a grin. "Charmer..."

He lets his face relax, slowly getting more familiar with this feeling of letting go. Making soft little noises and squirming from time to time, but it is not about that now. A bit of a struggle to braid his hair, because of all the layers, but he is trying his best to keep his head still for you, so you try your best for him, too.

"Anybody told you before how pretty your silver hairs are? They suit you a lot. You should show them more, Al."

You feel him tilt his head to the side slightly, and you know he's thinking about it. He's like a cat sometimes, isn't he?

"I dunno. I never really cared about it much, to be honest, but I think I like me hair dark, adds to my personality, or like, you know. At least one of 'em." He laughs, and it sounds so self-deprecating that you have to tug on the braid in-making. He whimpers at that, pressing his lips together.

"Certainly adds to the braid. Highlights the aforementioned darkness. It's like... Anna from Frozen..." You giggle and Alex snaps his head back to face you. As if irritated, although you know he just wants to look at you without you being upside-down or warped by the mirror confined in his hands.

"You look..." His eyebrows furrow. "So concentrated- like 's so hot, baby," he says before chuckling and turning back around. "Are you... is it gonna take long?"

You feel your cheeks flush slightly at his breathy compliment. It certainly is difficult to tame his hair, but it must have been about half an hour since you started playing around with it, and it surely did not need that much. You think you could do this all day, and he would not care in the slightest. He went putty in your hands immediately when you mentioned taking care of his hair.

You snap out of your thoughts quickly.

"Almost done!" For the dramatic effect, you put your hair tie around the end of the braid and then kiss his shoulder. Tiny strands of fluffy hair stick out in all directions, but you think if Alex Turner ever got his hair braided, it would be this or nothing.

The second he feels that the hair band is tied tightly enough that it won't fall off, he turns his whole body around, sitting on his knees between yours.

His eyes are sleepy, and his lips are bitten red. You take the mirror away from his loose grip and put it back on the table.

"I wanna know," you whisper and put two of your fingers in your mouth. His eyes widen and you smile around your digits, before taking them out swiftly, and sliding them over his lips.

Satisfied that they are shiny and glossy now, you take advantage of his slack-jawed face and shove those fingers in his mouth. He groans, closing his eyes. "Wanna know what you were thinking about just then, when you were squirming while I made sure you looked pretty..."

Alex's eyebrows arch with confusion, and he makes a muffled noise around your hand. "You don't have to talk, love, I just wanna know. Show me," you say, cooing.

He moves his tongue, sweetly taking your fingers deeper and deeper until he chokes and pulls off, leaving you slick. His lips are still shiny and rosy, but now they open and tremble as he sighs.

You grab Alex's neck and press your mouth against his jaw, not caring where your sticky hand is gonna end up. His arms clutch your hips and ribs so desperately that you slide down the couch to take your place over his lap once again, but this time on the floor. You let your teeth graze over his skin, knowing it'll be visible as tiny pink marks later.

He's already whimpering and twitchy by the time you properly kiss him. You start with pressing close-mouthed kisses on his lips, which could have been chaste and innocent if it hadn't left him aching.

It comes to you as the sweetest idea in the world to rock your hips against him at the same time. Just slow back-and-forth movements, getting the both of you dizzy and wet with salty sweetness. After a bit Alex moves his hips, too, gently bucking up against you as you groan into his mouth.

When his hands cradle you this time, it's not only desperate, but it's urgent, all filled with "I don't know how to hold back" and needy sighs. His mouth is left gaping now, trying to get his breathing under control. You pull away.

"Is this what you were thinking about earlier?" You question him, tracing his hairline with one hand, gripping his arm with the other. You've stilled your hips, but he hasn't.

Alex nods, all rosy and sweet and pliant under you. His hips keep moving.

"I doubt that. I know how greedy your mind gets. What else?" You squeeze your thighs around him and he stops squirming.

He shuts his eyes tightly, and you distantly think of reminding him to keep his face relaxed before he gives himself another headache, but you stay silent. Alex is not always like a cat when he is lost in his thoughts.

He hugs your body as close to him as possible, putting his face in your neck, then his hands under your thighs, and he lifts you up onto the couch. With a groan.

You can't hold it back and giggle when it appears noticeable that lifting you up so suddenly wasn't all that easy for Alex. He chuckles, too, but when he pulls away, you kick his leg playfully, and he ends up on top of you with a yelp, caught off-guard. His eyes widen at your expression and a broad smile makes his eyes wrinkle in the way that your hands almost itch with the need to capture the sweet moment, but you do not even know how you'd do that — draw, film, fuck... — Maybe you weren't the one responsible for the lines slowly appearing on his face, certainly not, but you could still love them. You still very much do.

"Baby, you look hungry... " Alex says dramatically, and you nod. Steadying him, so he is on your lap, his pretty thighs pressing into your sides. You unbutton his shirt from the bottom, which he mentally grimaces at, but you are—

"Hungry? No, I'm just trying to finish what I started."

"What's that?" Alex's voice comes out meek.

You leave the top few buttons untouched, only exposing his quivering stomach and caressing his sides as you look him in the eye.

"Does a little touching and sweet-talking from me always turn you into an idiot like this?"

He whimpers at that, hips squirming from both humiliation and need.

"Just– touch me..." Alex begs without a second thought, yet he hisses when your fingers grope his chest through the shirt he's wearing.

"Thought you wanted me to touch you?"

"Nn- I..." His mouth clamps shut, jaws tensing up. You feel trembling fingers grab your wrist to push your hand down over the bulge in his trousers. You instinctively run your fingers over it, seeking warmth, and you feel the thickness of him twitch.

"Not only greedy, but also demanding. I don't understand why I keep doing this..." You rub your thumb over him, caressing the tip repeatedly, softly enough to have his chest trembling and thoughts stuttering.

Your arm comes around Alex's back, encouraging him to put his chin on your shoulder, wrapping around you clumsily. Your other hand is still palming him over his trousers.

The smell of your perfume and skin has him dizzy. Some fuzzy static in his mind has taken the place meant for coherent thoughts and big, impressive words.

Sometimes, it is just what he needs, and you've started to look forward to it, too. Sometimes, Alex crawls on top of your lap. Hot breaths on your neck, before a murmured "Make it quiet," in your ear. That is what you do. Scaring the static away. Making the seconds shudder, turning them into minutes, hours, and the next thing he knows — he can not breathe, but it's good. So good, feels like finally waking up, and the entire world has been turning round and round without him, but he has got you right there. Smiling and pressing a kiss after kiss on his collarbones, spine, smile. So, nothing else matters.

Alex huffs, trying to move. He needs more, much more. But even slight stimulation like this has him too overwhelmed to enjoy it properly.

Your hand travels down from his shoulder blades, now patting his hips and lower back. He sighs shakily, stilling his movements.

"Shhh... baby." You take your other hand away from his trousers, hugging him close. "What do you want?"

The feeling of uncomfortable pressure on his chest suggests he would have been crying already if he was not so numb. This was kind of worse than tears framing his frown, but then he remembered the pretty braid. It wasn't about the hair itself, — although it felt quite comfortable — not having to push it back all the time, but it was the way you had touched every strand of his hair like you deeply envied the comb in his pocket.

"Everything. Make me feel it. I want to fuck... Make me cry. Yeah? Can you do that?"

His eyes look shiny already. It would not take much, but you never know it for sure. Your hand slides up his stomach, ribs, unbuttoning the shirt entirely, so you can feel his warm skin and racing heartbeat instead of a worn garment of something, that used to be a proper-looking shirt once, but definitely is not one anymore. It is ripped a bit on his left shoulder, assumably from the guitar straps, but first of all, it is just... old. Too old for a shirt. He can never let go of anything, and that shirt just keeps clinging onto him like a second skin.

You have half the mind to tear it apart.

Alex goes quiet when you unfasten his pants, trying to convince him that his weight is not crushing you. One of your hands comes around his waist, and the other one disappears under his boxers. A shudder makes his entire being crumble for a split-second, as if he just woke up from a dream but can't recall a single moment from it. Eyes fluttering and face changing into a picture of ecstasy and pain all at once. His skin feels warm and soft, comforting your aching bones, and when your fingertips graze the wetness, he lets out a hiss, head lolling to the side– your teeth almost hurt, yearning to touch. You pull him in, no hesitation or caution flashes behind your eyes when you bite down on his neck like it is the very last thing either of you is ever gonna feel. Your canine teeth leave angry marks on his skin, and the trail of spit connecting you to that mark makes you look wildly hungry, just like he said before. Just like he needs you to be. Starving for the feel of him and his pulse quickening under the press of your tongue.

Alex whines. It must hurt, but not badly enough, because his eyelashes are not sticky and stuck together with tears just yet. Your hand moves more frantically now. His hips twitch in need, but you grab them tightly, holding him back. He takes a deep breath, and suddenly, he is just– laughing. A deep rumble from his chest, that laugh. It is weirdly captivating. Not that you possess more physical strength than he does, but at this moment, you are everything, and you can grab him and even tell him the truth because you are all of it. He could not do this without you. It is not about money or fame or anything he pretends to like. It is just him and his mess, and you have never loved him any less for that.

His laugh turns into a low whimper. "Fucking- hmm... I'm so tired, love."

"I know, I know..." You hush Alex, and he rests his forehead against you, going heavy and pliant in your arms. Your hand moves over him for a few more moments before you sense how absolutely soft and relaxed he has gone. The hand you had on his waist trails up to his braid, tugging on it gently to tilt his head back. His eyes roll under his eyelids before opening slowly. He looks as if he is already lost somewhere, far away in his mind and far away from the world. But then his eyes find your face, and he smiles at the reminder– he is never gonna be far away from you.

A/N: I've never written anything for Alex, or for tumblr. So, yeah, first time posting something like this. I hope it was not so bad, thank you for reading! :)))) feedback is very appreciated. (The gif is mine :)

[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

[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

[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

[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+

-

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

[justallmyfantasies]

you’re nothing like mine

by the beach.

contains: smut! (unprotected piv) just nice i dont know what else to say bye.

word count: 6.1k (i think i wrote more than i should have but enjoy.)

MINORS DONT INTERACT!

the waves of the sea splashed against the rock you were sat on. the trim of your dress getting hit by the waves each time it came. it was chilly that’s why you had goosebumps. you hadn’t forgot to bring a jacket, you just felt like you didn’t need it. it was warm and light when you left the house, now it’s cold and the sun was beginning to set.

you’d hear the occasional laughter from behind you, a few kids and their parents running along the road behind you. or the occasional dog bark. you had the urge to go up to each dog and pet them. but you didn’t, obviously.

the sun was beginning to set once you arrived at the beach, the main reason you actually came here. it was a quiet area. you liked that.

a man came over, sat next to you. his face frustrated? stressed? you didn’t want to ask, but you analysed his facial features. noticing the stubble growing on his chin, the brown curls at the back of his head, his nose. oh god, his nose.

he looked at you, his face softening at the sight of you. not many would look at you like that, that wasn’t for any reason. he wiped his forehead, perhaps in a act of nervousness? you didn’t know.

“you come here often?” his voice was different, different to others you’d heard. he had an accent, a thick one. he was twiddling with his thumbs. the nail on one of his thumbs damaged. not anything severe, or that’s what you hoped.

you turned your head from the waves to look at him. his eyes directly on you. it wasn’t uncomfortable, it was almost comforting. you nodded. “most days.” your smile curving.

he chuckled, amused by the brief answer given. "you're a girl of few words." he teased gently, his accent becoming more noticeable. he leaned back slightly, mimicking your position. he let out a long exhale, his head tilting back to face the sky, the setting sun casting a warm glow on his face.

"you always come alone?" he glanced over at you again, his gaze lingering. the ocean wind blew through his hair, gently tousling the brown locks. his question was casual, his tone soft.

you could practically see the cogs turning in his mind as he waited for your response. the silence was comfortable, the crashing of waves providing a steady backdrop. the sun was half submerged now, the sky a mix of fiery orange and soft indigo.

"i like the solitude." you finally answered.

he hummed in understanding, his gaze returning to the seas. he leaned forward a bit, resting his forearms on his knees. you could see the small details of his profile, the faint laugh lines around his eyes and the way his hair curled behind his ear.

"i come here when i need to think." he said, his voice laced with a hint of vulnerability. he picked up a small pebble from the ground and began tossing it from one hand to the other.

you watched him play with the pebble, the movement of his hands mesmerizing. your eyes were drawn to the damaged nail on his thumb again, the raw imperfection fitting him perfectly somehow.

“so, what are you thinking about?” you asked, not pushing the topic.

he smiled at your question, his thumb now rubbing over the surface of the pebble. he took a moment before speaking. "the future." he shrugged, his answer purposely vague. his eyes shifted back towards the beach, his gaze lingering over a group of children playing near the shoreline.

"and what does the future hold for you?" your words echoed against the sound of the waves. you were genuinely curious. his demeanor was intriguing, a mix of mystery and a hint of melancholy.

he looked over at you again, his brown eyes locking onto yours. they were filled with a depth that intrigued you even more.

"a lot, i hope." he chuckled softly, a half-smile tugging at the corner of his lips. he let the pebble go, turning to face you fully. the wind picked up slightly, the loose strands of your hair now dancing around your face. "what about you?"

you couldn’t deny the allure of his presence. there was something about him that drew you in.

"i don't know." you admitted, your voice barely above a whisper. your honesty seemed to make him smile, his eyes scanning your face intently.

"somehow that doesn't surprise me." he said quietly, the amusement clear in his tone. "not a fan of making plans, huh?" he teased, pushing the conversation further. the wind blew again, this time stronger. it tousled his hair further, the brown curls falling haphazardly over his forehead.

you felt yourself smiling in response, his banter was both unexpected and refreshing.

"i prefer living in the moment." you replied, a subtle hint in your voice. the sun was almost fully submerged now, the last traces of light painting the sky a dark blue.

"a free spirit." he mused, his gaze never leaving yours. his words sounded as if he had already figured you out. he leaned back slightly, his hands supporting his weight. you noticed how his muscles flexed slightly.

"is that a good thing?" you inquired, tilting your head in slight curiosity. the night had gradually begun to settle in, the sky now a deep shade of navy. the beach was a lot emptier than it was moments ago, yet you felt comforted being alone with him.

"depends on who you're asking." he joked, his eyes sparkling with a hint of mischief. he paused for a moment before continuing, his tone serious. "but for me, it is." the confession made your heart skip a beat. he sounded sincere.

the silence grew between the two of you again. but this time it was different, there was a shift in the air. you couldn’t quite put your finger on it, but it felt electric. he was watching you carefully, his gaze intense.

you could feel your heart beating a little faster, a mixture of excitement and nervousness coiling in your stomach.

“i’m alex.” he broke the silence, his voice soft but clear. he extended his hand towards you, the damaged nail on his thumb barely visible in the dark.

"it's nice to meet you." you replied and later on with your name, taking his hand in yours. his grip was firm, yet gently. his skin surprisingly warm against your slightly cold fingers.

"nice to finally have a name for this pretty face." he quipped, his fingers lingering before he let go. the compliment was light-hearted, yet you found yourself blushing slightly.

he glanced down at your hands, the skin at your knuckles white from the cold. "you're freezing." he observed, his brow furrowing.

"i didn't bring a jacket." you admitted, the cold finally seeping into your bones. a shiver ran down your spine, proving your point. alex noticed, his expression turning almost concerned.

he tsked, shaking his head slightly. "you shouldn't have done that." he sounded almost scolding. “do you want my jacket?” he asked, it wasn’t really asking, it was as if he was demanding you to have it. his jacket.

you considered arguing, but the sudden chills made you realize he was right. “i couldn't-" you began, but he was already taking off his jacket, draping it over your shoulders. the leather jacket hitting your shoulders like a blanket, instantly bringing warmth.

the jacket smelled like him, a mix of cologne and something musky, like pine. it was cozy and comforting.

he watched you, ensuring the jacket fit you right. "better?" he asked, his voice gentle.

you nodded, the cold slowly subsiding to a more comfortable temperature. the jacket was a bit large on you, the sleeves nearly covering your fingers.

"much better." you replied, wrapping it tighter around yourself. he hummed in approval, leaning back again, his forearms resting on his knees.

the silence returned, but this time it was more comfortable. the ocean waves provided a steady soundtrack. a few stars had started to appear in the sky, the moon a crescent in the night.

you glanced over at him, his gaze still on you. his eyes were fixated on you, but it didn’t feel creepy or unsettling. it was almost like he was studying you, taking in every feature, every inch of you.

after a while, he had offered to walk you home. you didn’t live very far which is why you tended to go to the beach often. approaching three drains, you shook your head. “don’t step on them.” you said, your feet moving.

“why?” alex asked. one of his eyebrows raised.

you shrugged. “supposedly bad luck.”

he let out a giggle, his laugh quiet. “you believe in bad luck?” he asked, following you as you avoided the drains. he was clearly amused, the corner of his mouth tugging into a small grin.

“sometimes.” a small smile on your own lips. you had reached your building now, the front door in sight.

he stopped as you approached the door, a smirk appearing on his face. "so what would you consider good luck then?" he teased.

you paused, your hand on the door handle. he was now standing next to you, his body a bit closer than before. you glanced at him, his face so close you were able to see the beauty spots on his face.

“having a rockstar walk beside you telling you about his day.” you replied. a short laugh escaping your lips.

he chuckled, the sound warm. he leaned against the brick wall, crossing his arms over his chest. "is that so?" he asked, his eyes still on you. you swore you could hear the smirk in his tone.

you nodded, a small grin playing on your lips. you were surprised at how comfortable you felt, talking to him as if you’d known each other for a while. the street was dead silent, the only noise being your breathing.

“do you want to come in?” you asked, finally opening the door.

he raised an eyebrow, a hint of surprise in his eyes. he clearly wasn’t expecting that invitation. he looked at you for a moment before answering.

"sure." he replied, his voice casual. he pushed himself off the wall, walking towards you.

you held the door open, gesturing for him to go inside. he walked through, the muscles on his back flexing as he passed by. he didn’t look around, he just waited for you to shut the door.

you could feel your heart beating in your chest as you closed the door, the click of the lock echoing around the hallway.

you turned around, facing alex. he was standing a few feet away from you, his hands in the pockets of his jeans. he looked relaxed, but there was a hint of tension in his shoulders. his eyes were on you, studying you intently.

“this place is cozy.” he commented, breaking the silence. he looked around the hallway, his gaze taking in the surroundings.

you nodded in agreement. the apartment wasn’t a penthouse or anything fancy, but it was home. it had a warm and cozy feel to it.

you gestured towards the living room, encouraging him to follow you. “make yourself comfortable, i’ll grab some snacks.” you said, walking towards the kitchen.

he followed you without a word, his footsteps soft against the hardwood floor. the living room was modest in size, but it had a cozy feel to it. a bookshelf against the wall and a worn out, yet comfortable couch in the middle of the room.

you watched him take a seat on the couch, slouching into the cushions. he looked relaxed, yet his eyes followed your every move as you rummaged through the cupboards in search of snacks.

“what kind of snack do you like?” you called out, your head buried in the cabinets. you could hear him shift slightly on the couch, his voice carrying through the room.

“i’m not picky.” he answered. you couldn’t see him, but you knew he was watching you. you could feel his gaze lingering on you, as if he was trying to figure you out.

you settled on a bag of chips. it wasn’t a fancy snack, but it would do. you walked back towards the living room, the bag of chips crinkling in your hands. alex was lounging on the couch, his eyes on you once again.

you took a seat next your him, the couch dipping slightly under your weight. you opened the bag, offering him some. he took a few, his fingers grazing against yours for a brief moment.

the texture of his calloused skin sent a jolt of electricity through you. the brief touch felt charged and almost exciting. you mentally shook away the feeling, focusing on the chips in the bag.

the room was quiet, the only noise being the crinkle of the chip bag and the occasional car passing by. alex seemed comfortable, his body relaxed against the cushions. he was watching you again, his brown eyes intent on every move you made.

“you seem to have a habit of staring at me.” you teased lightly, a small smirk on your lips. he looked slightly amused by your remark, a corner of his mouth tugging into a smirk.

he leaned slightly towards you, his voice low. “you’re nice to look at.” the comment made you blush, your cheeks heating up at his directness.

you looked away, trying to hide your blushing face. he chuckled, clearly aware of the effect his words had on you. his eyes were still studying you, his gaze intense.

“you get flustered easily, don’t you?” he teased, his voice laced with a hint of amusement.

you glanced at him, your flustered expression giving you away. he was right, you did get flustered easily. especially when it came to handsome guys giving you compliments.

“is that a bad thing?” you asked, trying to maintain some level of composure. he shook his head, his smirk growing wider. he was enjoying this.

“not at all.” he replied, shifting closer to you on the couch. he was now sitting just a few inches away, his leg bumping against yours. his scent, the mix of cologne and musk, was stronger from this distance.

you could feeling your heart beating faster, his closeness and the scent of his cologne making your head spin. he was so close, you could almost feel his body heat radiating off of him.

he leaned back, his arm now resting on the back of the couch behind you. his fingers were playing with the edge of your hair, the action almost absentmindedly.

the feeling of his fingers on your hair sent a shiver down your spine, the tingling sensation traveling through your body. he was so close, yet not close enough.

you could feel his gaze on you, his eyes studying every expression, every movement you made. his fingers continued to toy with the end of your hair, the feel of his calloused skin against your neck sending a jolt of electricity through you.

“you’re interesting, you know that?” he mused, his voice low and quiet. his fingers were still toying with the end of your hair, sending tingles through your body.

you turned to look at him, your eyes meeting his. he was looking at you intently, a soft smile on his lips. his eyes were flickering over your face, as if he was trying to memorize every feature.

“how so?” you asked, your voice betraying a hint of nervousness. his compliments were making you flustered again, the feeling of his fingers in your hair not helping.

he hummed, his fingers now tracing your jaw line. the sensation sent a shiver through your body, his touch so light, yet so electric.

“you’re like a paradox.” he stated, his fingers now resting on your cheek. their touch was warm, the callouses on his fingers rough against your skin.

“you’re calm, yet restless. quiet, yet full of personality.” his thumb was now tracing the edge of your jawline, slowly moving towards your lips.

“and you’re observant.” you quipped, the heat in your cheeks intensifying. his touch was sending shivers through your body, the rough skin of his thumb against your lips making it hard to concentrate.

he chuckled, the sound low and almost sexy. his thumb now tracing the contour of your bottom lip. the touch was so light, yet it sent tingles down your spine. he leaned closer, his face now just inches away from yours. his breath was warm against your face, the proximity making your head spin.

his intense gaze never left your face, his eyes intently studying you. his thumb was still tracing your lip, the action almost reverent.

the air was charged, the tension between you palpable. your faces were so close, you could feel the heat radiating off of him.

his lips curved into a smile, a small, almost private smile. he shifted slightly, moving even closer. his hand moved from your chin to the nape of your neck, his warm touch sending another shiver down your spine.

he gently pulled you closer, your face now mere centimeters away from his. his lips hovered just above yours, before he decided to kiss you. the kiss soft and slow.

his kiss was gentle at first, his lips moving against yours slowly. but before long, it became deeper, more passionate. his tongue slowly making its way into your mouth, tasting and exploring.

his hand moved from your neck, to your waist, gently pulling you onto his lap. you could feel the heat rising in your body, the feeling of his lips against yours, his tongue exploring your mouth, making your head spin.

he deepened the kiss, his arms holding you close against him, your body now pressed against his.

he broke the kiss after a moment, his forehead resting against yours. his breathing slightly ragged, his eyes still closed. the moment felt almost intimate, both of you silently enjoying the closeness.

his hand was still on the small of your back, his thumb gently caressing the skin through your clothes. his eyes opened, the intensity of his gaze still present.

“do you have any idea how beautiful you are?” he muttered. the compliment was genuine, his tone honest.

you shook your head, your cheeks burning slightly. compliments were not something you were used to. at least not from a guy that looked like him.

he chuckled, his laugh soft and warm. “you really have no idea, do you?” he said, his fingers tracing the side of your neck.

his fingers were sending electric jolts through your body, the sensations almost overwhelming. his touch was tender, his rough skin a contrast to your softer one. he pulled you closer against him, his lips finding your jawline, trailing small kisses down your neck.

his lips left a trail of fire on your skin, the feeling of his mouth on your neck making you shiver. his hand moved from your back to your hips, holding you against him. his lips were now on your collarbone, biting and kissing the sensitive skin.

the feeling of his lips and teeth on your skin was driving you insane. you couldn’t think straight, your mind a mix of sensation and desire.

he nipped the sensitive spot between your neck and shoulder, drawing a soft gasp from your lips. he chuckled, the sound warm against your skin.

“i love that sound.” he muttered, his voice almost a purr. his lips were back on your neck, his teeth gently biting the skin.

you could feel his hands, now on your thighs, gripping you tightly. the dress you were wearing pushed up to your thighs. his body was warm against yours, the heat almost scalding.

he continued his assault on your neck, his lips and teeth leaving love-bites on your skin. every touch was making it hard to think, the sensations driving you crazy. his hands moved higher, one of them disappearing under the hem of your dress, his fingers tracing patterns on your skin.

his touch was like fire on your skin, the feeling of his hand on your inner thigh making you shiver. his lips had moved to your ear, his breath warm on your skin.

he was whispering praises, his voice low and raspy. he was calling you beautiful, sexy, perfect. the compliments sent a thrill through your body, the words making you feel a mix of shyness and desire.

his hand was slowly moving higher, his fingers now tracing the soft skin of your inner thigh. the proximity was making it hard for you to breathe, the heat of his body pressed against yours, his lips at your ear, whispering words that both thrilled and flustered you. his hips were now pressed against yours, the hardness of his body undeniable.

he bit your earlobe, a soft gasp escaping your lips. his hips moved, his body pressing even more against yours. you could feel the growing hardness against your thigh.

he was murmuring praises in your ear, his free hand now moving to the back of your neck, pulling you closer. his body was so close, you could feel the heat of his skin through your clothes.

his hips grinded against your own, the action making the heat pooling in your stomach grow. his teeth were back on your neck, his lips sucking and biting the sensitive skin.

his breath was hot on your neck, his breathing growing ragged. one of his hands was on your thigh, squeezing the soft flesh, the other tangled in your hair.

his lips were back on yours, the kiss hungry and passionate. his tongue was in your mouth, exploring and tasting. the kiss was messy, the mixture of desire and desperation making it sloppy. his hands were now wandering over your body, his touch leaving a trail of fire wherever it moved.

his hands were under your dress now, caressing the skin of your thighs, your hips, your stomach. you were panting, the sensations almost too much to bear.

he broke the kiss, his forehead resting against yours once again. his breathing was ragged, the desire mirrored in his eyes. he motioned towards your dress, a question whether he could take it off or not.

you nodded, breathless and more than a little flustered. he smirked, a corner of his lips tugging into a small smile.

he carefully pulled the dress over your head, leaving you in just your underwear. his eyes roamed over your body, taking in the view. his gaze was hungry, his eyes dark with desire.

his hands were on your body again, caressing your skin. he was touching you as if you were the most delicate piece of art. his touch was light, his caresses almost reverent.

he ran his fingers over your stomach, your sides. his eyes were roaming over every inch of your body, taking it all in. when his fingers caressed the edge of your bra, he looked up at you again, silently asking for permission.

you nodded, your breathing a bit shaky from the intensity of his gaze. he smiled slightly, his fingers now gently undoing the clasp of your bra. he took his time, his movements slow and deliberate, almost as if he was savoring every second.

once the bra was off, he took a moment to look at you again. his eyes were filled with lust, yet there was a hint of something else. awe, perhaps?

his hands were back on you, one hand on your hip, the other on your chest. his touch was now more urgent, his desire more evident. he carefully pushed you down on the couch, hovering over you. his body was so close, the press of his hips against yours making the heat in your core grow.

his lips were on your neck again, leaving a trail of kisses and bites down to your collarbone. his hand was now on your thigh, pulling your leg to wrap around his waist.

he was muttering praises between kisses, his voice a low, sensual rumble. every touch was electric, every kiss like a spark to a fire.

he was biting your shoulder now, his teeth gently pulling at the skin. one of his legs had moved between your own, the friction making you gasp.

he was pressing himself against you, his hardness rubbing against your core. you could feel the heat, the need, the desire. his body was so close, yet it wasn’t close enough.

“tease.” you commented. your hands trailing down to his belt, undoing it slowly.

he raised his head from your shoulder, a smirk appearing on his lips. he bit your neck before replying. “you’re one to talk.”

his hips were now pressed against yours, the heat of his body making you feel like you were burning. he was watching you, his eyes on your hands, undoing his belt.

you had his belt off, his jeans now hanging loosely on his hips. the desire in his expression was clear, his eyes following your every move.

he leaned back, watching as you unbuttoned his jeans. his breathing had grown ragged, his patience slowly running out.

“i want those off.” you breathed, pointing at his jeans.

he grinned, a devilish smile appearing on his lips. “yes, lady.” he teased, but still did as you asked, pulling his jeans and boxers off.

he was back over you, his body pressed against yours in only a moment. the feeling of skin against skin was almost overwhelming, and you could practically feel the heat radiating off of his body.

his lips were back on your neck, his teeth and tongue leaving a trail of kisses down to your collarbone. his hands were caressing your sides, your hips, pulling your body close against his.

he shifted a bit, positioning himself between your legs. the feeling of his body against your core was intoxicating, the heat making everything feel more intense. his breath was hot against your ear, his voice a low, sultry murmur. “you’re driving me insane.”

he pulled your panties to the side, the tip of him touching you slightly. you gasped aloud, the feeling of him against you almost making you shiver. you could feel the heat pooling in your core, the need growing with every passing moment.

“please,” you gasped, your voice a needy whisper. you were desperate, the feeling of his hardness making you crave more, more, more.

he chuckled, the sound low and seductive. “please what?” he teased, his lips hovering just above your ear.

you were almost desperate now, the need overwhelming. you whimpered, your hands moving to his shoulders, gripping him tightly. “you know what.” you managed to say, your voice a ragged whisper.

he chuckled again, enjoying seeing you so flustered and needy. “okay ma’am.” he replied, his voice a low, seductive rumble.

he leaned back, his body still hovering over you. his eyes were locked on yours, his gaze intense. you could see the restraint in his expression, the need to be gentle and careful with you.

he shifted again, positioning himself at your entrance. the heat was almost unbearable, the anticipation making every second feel like an eternity.

“you sure?” he muttered, his voice a low, rough whisper.

you nodded, your words caught in your throat. the need for him was overwhelming, your body almost trembling with anticipation. “yes, god, yes.” you finally managed to say, your voice a desperate, pleading whisper.

he smiled slightly, his eyes still locked on yours. “okay.” he muttered, his voice low and seductive. his hand was on your hip, gripping tightly.

he pushed himself in slowly, his eyes watching your every reaction. every gasp, every intake of breath, every small whimper and moan. he was going slow, carefully, every inch making you feel fuller, more every second was agony, the need for more almost overwhelming.

you wrapped your arms around his shoulders, pulling him closer. your legs wrapped around his hips, your body begging for more.

he leaned down, his lips by your ear, his breath hot on your skin. “god, you feel good.” he breathed, his voice a rough whisper.

he started moving, his hips moving in a slow, deliberate rhythm. it was torture, the pace leaving you craving for more. you gripped his shoulders tighter, your fingers digging into his skin.

his lips were on your neck, his teeth biting and licking the sensitive skin. his hands were on your hips, holding you in place, his touch firm yet gentle at the same time.

“so good.” you managed to gasp out, the pleasure almost too much to bear.

he grunted in response, his pace picking up slightly. his movements were fluid, his hips rocking against you in a steady, rhythmic motion. it was maddening, the combination of pleasure and need making everything seem sharper, more intense.

he was muttering praises in your ear, his voice a low, rough rumble. “you feel amazing.” he breathed, his teeth nipping your earlobe.

you felt the pressure growing in your core, the pleasure building with every move. you were gripping him, nails digging into his skin, your breath coming in gasps and moans.

he was holding you against him, his body almost enveloping you. his lips were on your neck, his mouth leaving a trail of kisses down to your collarbone. his hands were roaming over your back, your sides, his touch leaving a trail of fire on your skin.

his hips were moving faster now, his pace increasing. it was almost overwhelming, the pleasure almost too much to bear. you were whispering his name, your voice a ragged gasp.

he was panting against your neck, his breath hot on your skin. “look at me.” he muttered, his voice rough and demanding.

you lifted your head, your eyes meeting his gaze. there was a hunger in his eyes, a raw need that mirrored your own. his movements were more urgent now, his body pressing against yours.

he was staring at you, his gaze intense. he was watching your every reaction, every expression and sound. he was devouring you, everything about you, his eyes roaming over your face, taking everything in. his movements were harder now, more forceful. his name escaped your lips, a strangled moan.

he grunted, the sound low and guttural. his head dropped to your shoulder, his face buried in the crook of your neck. he was breathing heavily, his body moving against yours with a newfound urgency.

he was almost gasping for air, his body moving with a desperation now. he was muttering praises, his voice thick and husky. “you’re so good, so perfect, so beautiful.” he was saying, his words breathless and broken.

the pressure in your core was almost unbearable now, the pleasure building with every move. you were gripping him tighter, your nails digging into his skin.

he was moving faster now, his body trembling against yours. his mouth was on your neck, his teeth biting the sensitive skin. his hands were on your hips, holding you in place, his fingers digging into your flesh.

you were almost there, the pleasure building to almost unbearable levels. you were gripping him, your breath coming in ragged gasps, your nails digging into his skin.

“fuck.. i’m close,” you managed to gasp out, your voice a desperate, pleading whisper. “please, don’t stop.”

he was almost at the edge, his body trembling against you. he grunted in response, his movements more urgent, more forceful. his mouth was on your neck, still biting and sucking at the skin. his hands were on your hips, his grip tightening, his fingers digging into your flesh.

“hold on.” he muttered, his voice thick and guttural. “hold on just a bit longer for me.”

you were on the edge now, the pleasure building to almost unbearable levels. you were biting your lip, trying to hold back, trying to hold on for just a moment longer.

he was moving faster now, his body pressed against yours, his hips rocking against you with a frantic energy. his mouth was on your ear, his breath hot and ragged.

“you're doing so good,” he muttered, his voice a ragged whisper. “hold on... just a bit more."

he was on the verge, his body trembling against you, his breathing ragged. he let out a strangled moan, his eyes shut tight, his mouth on your neck. “god, you feel so good. i... i can’t hold on much longer.” he panted, his voice low and rough.

his movements now slowed down, you both reaching your orgasms. you were both panting, your bodies shuddering slightly. he collapsed on top of you, his face burying in the crook of your neck. you were both trying to catch your breath, your chests heaving. the room was suddenly quiet except for the sound of your ragged breathing.

he leaned back after a moment, his expression soft and tender. he gently brushed a strand of hair away from your face, his fingers touching your skin with a gentle touch. he smiled slightly, his eyes warm and fond. “you okay?” he asked, his voice a low, gentle rumble.

you smiled back, feeling a wave of affection wash over you. you reached up to cup his face, your touch gentle. “yeah, i’m okay. more than okay.” you said, your voice a weary, contented murmur.

he leaned down, his lips brushing against your forehead in a gentle kiss. “good.” he mumbled, his voice a low, satisfied rumble. he shifted off you, lying down beside you. he pulled you close, his arms wrapping around you, holding you close against his chest.

you snuggled into him, feeling safe and warm in his embrace. you rested your head on his chest, listening to the steady beat of his heart. you felt content and at peace, your body and mind still buzzing slightly from the aftermath of your orgasm.

he was idly running his fingers through your hair, his touch gentle and soothing. the room was quiet except for the sound of your breathing and the occasional soft rustle of fabric. after a comfortable silence.

he spoke up, his voice soft and low. “you know something?” he asked, his fingers still playing with your hair.

you tilted your head up to look at him, a small smile on your face. “what?” you asked, your voice equally soft and sleepy.

he smiled down at you, his eyes warm and fond. “i don’t think i've ever met someone like you before.” he said, his voice gentle.

you felt your heart flutter a bit at his words. “yeah?” you asked, your voice a little shy and bashful.

he nodded, his smile growing. he tucked a strand of hair behind your ear, his touch gentle. “yeah. it’s weird, i’ve only ever seen you today and i’m astonished by you. is that too cheesy?” he asked.

you chuckled a bit, feeling a warm, cozy feeling spread through your chest. “yeah, a little cheesy.” you teased, poking his side playfully.

he chuckled too, grabbing your hand and trapping it against his chest to stop you from poking him anymore. “hey, i’m trying to be sweet here.” he protested, his voice feigning indignance.

you giggled a bit, unable to keep a straight face. “okay, okay. i’m sorry, sweet talker.” you teased, your voice dripping with mock-sincerity.

he rolled his eyes, his expression amused. “you’re ruining the moment, you know that?” he said, his voice feigning irritation.

you chuckled again, feeling a warm, happy feeling wash over you. “oh, I’m sorry. i didn’t know i was supposed to be swooning over you.” you teased, a small smirk forming on your lips.

“you’re supposed to be swooning, yes.” he said, a small smirk appearing on his own lips. “anyway, what i wanted to say was that.. i uhm.. wanna see you again.”

you felt your heart skip a beat, a small thrill running through your veins. “yeah? you want to see me again?” you asked, your voice soft and hopeful.

he nodded, his smile soft and sincere. “yeah. i know it sounds crazy considering we only just met today, but... i just really wanna see you again. spend more time with you. get to know you better.”

your heart was fluttering in your chest, a warmth spreading through your veins. you felt a little giddy, a little lightheaded. “okay. i’d like that.” you admitted, a small smile appearing on your lips.

his eyes seemed to light up, his smile growing wider. “yeah?” he asked, looking genuinely pleased. “okay. yeah... yeah, that’s great. i... yeah.” he said, his words faltering slightly, looking a little flustered.

you chuckled softly, amused by his shy, flustered reaction. you reached up to pat his head, your touch light and tender. your fingers playing with the curls of his soft hair. you couldn’t deny that you felt something for him and neither could he. but was it too soon?

a/n: wow finally writing woo!!! anyway i like this (kinda), i have a few more ideas for upcoming fics so just wait for that i suppose. i hope it’ll be good.