#I WANT TO CONSUME HIM | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

junedenim · 4 months ago

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i need fetus al right now. like you don't even know.

It’s Always Hard In The Morning

a couple rounds of strip poker and truth or dare gone wrong…or right?

warnings: fetus!alex, smut, oral (m receiving), alcohol, vomit, he’s a bit awkward but not too much

word count: 6.2k

The music felt loud. Too loud, maybe. But in his head, it was even louder. A relentless pulse of beats and treble that thrummed through his veins. The reality was that the volume was pretty low, as you’d been asked to keep it down after some complaints, but the alcohol coursing through his system distorted everything. The vodka and cranberry juice mix had been his drink of choice for the night, and he’d downed enough of it to feel the numbness spreading from his lips to his fingertips. His stomach would probably make him pay for it tomorrow, but for now, that was a distant problem. Anyway, you’d all likely be in the same miserable boat when the sun came up, so he didn’t dwell on it.

What did bother him, though, was the fact that he was fully dressed. Not because he was too warm or anything, but because, to his surprise, he’d won all the rounds of poker you’d played. Strip poker, to be exact. Sure, there was a fleeting sense of pride in his victories. Who wouldn’t feel good about winning? But that pride was quickly eclipsed by the growing realisation that he might look like a fool for being the only one still clothed.

The other guys had stripped down to their boxers, lounging back on their elbows with the kind of casualness that made it seem like they were born to be in this state of undress. They were laughing, nudging each other, their confidence undiminished by the lack of clothing. If anything, the absence of layers seemed to free them up, make them more comfortable. More…cool.

And then there were the girls, with their bright eyes and flushed cheeks, sitting around the circle on the floor, glancing at each other, at the boys, and at him. He couldn’t ignore the fact that several pairs of breasts were staring back at him, covered only by bras that, judging by their colours and patterns, had been chosen with this exact scenario in mind. It wasn’t just a game. It was a chance. The kind of chance that you only got once, especially at this age when crushes were intense and opportunities to act on them were rare.

But despite the playful atmosphere, the giggles, and the alcohol-fueled courage hanging in the air, Alex couldn’t bring himself to look up. He kept his gaze fixed firmly on his hands, resting awkwardly in his lap. The cardigan he wore, at his nana’s insistence, the one with “A.T.” stitched in black thread over the baby blue fabric, right above his heart, suddenly felt like a suit of armour he didn’t know how to take off.

You were sitting directly across from him, your pink-ruffled bra on full display, your hopes of catching his eye slowly fading with every second his attention stayed glued to his own cuticles. You had chosen that bra deliberately, as had the other girls chosen theirs, expecting and maybe even hoping that this exact situation would arise. The thrill of potentially being noticed by the boy you’d spent countless hours daydreaming about had your heart racing. But it seemed like your chances with Alex were slim. His head was down, his focus entirely elsewhere, and those hands of his seemed more important than anything, or anyone else in the room.

As the silence stretched, broken only by the distant music and occasional drunken laughter, the reality began to set in. Alex Turner, the boy you’d been crushing on for who knows how long, was too wrapped up in his own world to notice yours. And for all the layers he still had on, he was somehow more exposed than anyone else in the room.

His fingers drummed lightly against his knee as he watched the others with a detached sense of amusement. The alcohol had dulled his usual quick wit and made everything feel a bit more surreal. The laughter echoed around him, louder than it should have been, blurring with the music and the hum of nerves running beneath the surface. He opened his mouth to speak, but the words felt heavy on his tongue. He tried to force them out, something about how they should call it a night or maybe switch to a different game, but his voice barely rose above a whisper.

No one heard him. No one except you.

“Truth or dare?!” you suddenly called out, cutting through the noise, catching everyone’s attention. Heads turned towards you, and just like that, the mood shifted. The playful tension returned, curiosity sparking in everyone’s eyes. The group was immediately in, eager for the next round, especially since the stakes had already risen with the poker game.

Alex felt his pulse quicken. Truth or dare was a different beast, and he knew it. It had a way of pulling out secrets and forcing people into situations that might seem harmless in the moment but could linger long after. When it came to him, it was no surprise that the first dare was straightforward: “Lose a piece of clothing, Alex.”

The room erupted into a mix of cheers and teasing groans. Alex felt a wave of self-consciousness wash over him, but there was no backing out now. With a resigned sigh, he stood up and slowly peeled off the cardigan, folding it neatly before tossing it aside. A part of him was relieved to be rid of it, as though shedding the extra layer might make him feel less out of place.

The game continued, each round peeling back another layer of vulnerability from everyone involved. By the time it was Alex’s turn again, he was down to his jeans, bare-chested and sockless. The skin on his chest prickled with the cool air, but the heat from the alcohol and the thrill of the game kept him from shivering. He knew he couldn’t, wouldn’t, take off his jeans, no matter how much he drank or how many dares were thrown his way. It was a line he wasn’t ready to cross, and he hoped the others would sense that.

Then, it was your turn again. You locked eyes with Dee, your best friend, who had a knowing smile playing on her lips. You knew what was coming before she even spoke, and despite the anticipation, your heart still skipped a beat.

“Dare.” you said confidently, knowing you could trust Dee to set the stage perfectly.

“Seven minutes in heaven with anyone you want- no, wait, with one of the boys.” she declared, her eyes twinkling with excitement. The room collectively inhaled, and you could feel the anticipation buzzing in the air.

You hesitated, but only for show. Inside, you were already picturing how this would go down. You’d been hoping for this moment since the school trip was announced, since you had handed over the money for it, and maybe even before that. You’d imagined a thousand different scenarios, but this one, the one that was actually happening, felt like the culmination of all your daydreams.

Trying to play it cool, you glanced around the circle, pretending to consider your options. Then you said it, almost too casually, “I choose Alex.”

A few giggles erupted from the group, and all eyes turned to him. Alex felt a surge of panic mixed with a strange thrill. He hadn’t expected this, though he wasn’t exactly surprised. Still, his mouth moved before his brain could catch up.

“We’re playing truth or dare, not seven minutes in heaven.” he blurted out, his voice sharper than intended. His stomach churned, not from the alcohol this time, but from the idea of being alone with you in such close quarters. He didn’t trust himself, didn’t trust the feelings bubbling up inside him, feelings he’d tried to push down all night. And yet, he wanted it. He wanted it more than anything.

“Oh, come on, Smarty.” you teased, using the nickname you’d given him months ago. The room erupted in encouragement, the others egging him on, caught up in the game’s momentum.

There was no way out, and a part of him didn’t want one. He let out a breath he hadn’t realised he was holding and gave a small, reluctant nod.

The group whooped in approval, and before he knew it, he was being ushered towards the nearest private space they could find. But just as they reached the bathroom door, the sound of retching hit their ears. Someone was already inside, clearly not handling the night’s drinks too well. The excitement deflated slightly, as the group exchanged glances, a mix of disappointment and mild disgust settling over them.

“Guess the bathroom’s out of the question.” someone muttered, and there was a murmur of agreement as everyone took a step back, the mood wavering for a moment.

Alex glanced at you, catching your eye as the others started to lose interest and began discussing where the game should go next. With a quick breath, he leaned in close, his voice low enough that only you could hear, “You wanna go to my room then, or...?”

The suggestion hung in the air between you, heavy with unspoken possibilities. You met his gaze and gave a small, almost imperceptible nod.

As you and Alex tried to slip away quietly out of the room, you couldn’t resist glancing back at Dee. She had been keeping an eye on you all night, and you knew she would be watching now, looking for some kind of signal. You caught her gaze from across the room, and without saying a word, you gave her a look. The look. The unmistakable “this is happening” look.

Her eyes lit up in response, her lips curling into a knowing grin. She gave a quick nod, her approval clear. She knew how much you’d wanted this, how long you’d been waiting for a moment like this with Alex. Her look said it all: “Go for it.”

This was really happening.

His room wasn’t far, just across the hall from where you’d all been playing the game. That was actually your room, the biggest one on this floor, and now you remembered you’d been assigned to it when you first arrived. It had taken you by surprise that you’d ended up in the room where all the action seemed to gather, but now it felt almost like fate.

The door creaked softly as Alex pushed it open, and the two of you stumbled slightly as you crossed the threshold, the lingering effects of the alcohol making everything feel just a bit off balance. Inside, the room was dim, lit only by the faint glow of a streetlamp filtering through the thin curtains. The bed, one double bed that Alex was supposed to share with another guy for the trip, sat in the middle of the room, looking oddly inviting despite the circumstances.

He moved first, sitting down on the edge, and you followed, the mattress dipping slightly under your weight. The quiet of the room wrapped around you both, the sounds of the party right outside muffled now, leaving just the two of you in this small, private bubble. There was no need for words. The situation spoke for itself.

You turned towards him, catching his eye again, and the question that had been burning in the back of your mind was written all over your face: “Wanna make out?”

He didn’t answer with words. Instead, Alex licked his lips, a nervous, almost instinctual gesture, and leaned in closer. You could feel the warmth of his breath against your skin as he closed the gap between you, his lips brushing yours in a hesitant kiss.

It started slow, as if you were both testing the waters, figuring out the rhythm and flow. But then something clicked, and the kiss deepened, becoming more urgent, more real. Your hands rested on his chest, feeling the steady beat of his heart beneath your palm.

Time seemed to blur as you lost yourselves in each other, the awkwardness of the situation fading away, replaced by the heady rush of being young and alive and caught up in the moment. The bed creaked beneath you as you shifted closer, the space between you disappearing until there was nothing left but the heat of his body against yours.

Nothing outside that room mattered anymore. Not the group of friends who had pushed you together, not the games or the dares or the consequences waiting for you tomorrow. All that mattered was here, now, the taste of his lips on yours and the way his hands felt as they pulled you closer, pulling you in a reality that, for just a little while, was only yours.

The kiss grew more intense, the initial hesitancy giving way to something almost desperate, something that had been building up in both of you for what felt like forever. You shifted on the bed, swinging your leg over to straddle him, your movements a little uncoordinated from the vodka still buzzing in your veins. Alex responded instinctively, his hands sliding down to grip your hips, holding you in place as you settled onto his lap.

He shuffled back on the bed, the springs creaking under the sudden shift, until his bare back hit the wall. The rough texture of the poorly painted surface scraped against his skin, but he hardly noticed, too lost in the heat of the moment, too focused on the way your body pressed against his, the closeness of it all.

You leaned in, deepening the kiss even further, almost as if you were trying to devour him, to make up for all the time you’d spent just imagining this. His lips were soft, and his breath came in shallow gasps between kisses, but there was an urgency in the way he moved against you, like he’d been waiting for this just as long as you had.

Alex was a good kisser. You’d suspected as much after staring at his lips for what felt like ages, wondering what it would be like to have them on yours. Now, reality was proving to be even better than fantasy. The taste of him, the way his lips moved in sync with yours, how he seemed to know just when to pull back and when to dive in again. It was everything you’d hoped for and more.

His nose bumped into yours as you both tried to find the right angle, and your teeth clashed together with a sharp, jarring click. It should’ve hurt, should’ve been awkward, but it wasn’t. It only made you both more eager, more desperate to keep going. Alex could’ve bitten your lip clean off, and you wouldn’t have cared. The alcohol would’ve dulled the sting. It made everything feel a little fuzzy around the edges, and besides, his tongue was already in your mouth, exploring, tasting, claiming.

Your hands were in his hair, tugging lightly, and he groaned softly in response, the sound vibrating through your body, igniting something deep inside you. The way he kissed you, firm, yet somehow gentle, like he was pouring all the things he couldn’t say into that one connection, made you want to melt right there in his arms.

The heat between you was almost overwhelming, the air in the room thick with the scent of sweat and cheap vodka, but neither of you cared. All that mattered was the feel of his body beneath yours, the way he seemed to fit against you perfectly, the way his hands roamed up your back, pulling you even closer, as if he couldn’t get enough.

The past, the future, none of it mattered. All that existed was now, the taste of his lips on yours, the feel of his skin under your fingertips, and the way you both moved together, lost in the drunken haze of it.

Somewhere in the back of your mind, you thought you heard the door creak open. It was a faint sound, barely registering over the rush of blood in your ears and the muffled beat of music still playing in the distance. You were too wrapped up in Alex, too absorbed in the way he made you feel, to care whether it was real or just your imagination.

But then, more sounds started filtering through. Voices. Excited, disbelieving, and unmistakably familiar. They broke into the bubble you’d created around yourselves.

“Oh my god!” one voice squealed, a mix of shock and glee, and then another, louder one: “Shut uppp! Is that Turner?” someone else hissed, their tone somewhere between amused and scandalised.

The realization hit you like a bucket of cold water, but before you could fully react, a louder, more authoritative voice cut through the growing chatter. “Seven minutes are up!”

Dee.

You recognized her voice instantly, but you still didn’t pull away. Neither did Alex. His hand, which had somehow found its way to your ass during the heat of the moment, stayed right where it was, gripping you. The interruption barely registered for either of you, the kiss still going strong despite the growing commotion at the door.

Annoyance flared up inside you. How could they ruin this moment? Without even breaking the kiss, you reached to your left, your fingers finding the edge of a pillow. You grabbed it and, without looking, hurled it in the direction of the door. You didn’t care if it hit someone or just flopped uselessly to the floor. You just wanted them to get the hint and leave.

The pillow made a soft thud, followed by a chorus of giggles and a few more muffled exclamations. The door creaked again, this time closing with a finality that made you believe they’d actually taken the hint. You could still hear the echo of Dee’s laughter, but it was fading now, becoming part of the background noise, just another element of the night that you could forget about.

As soon as you were alone again, the tension melted back into the room, the heat between you two reigniting. The interruption had done nothing to dampen whatever was simmering between you. If anything, it made you more determined to reclaim the moment.

Alex’s hand flexed on your ass, pulling you closer, reminding you that you were still here, still together, still in this. His lips moved against yours, softer now, but no less insistent, like he was savouring the taste of you. You responded in kind, your hands tangling in his hair again, tugging just enough to make him groan into your mouth, sending a shiver down your spine.

You were still in control, still straddling him, but the way he kissed you back, hungry, desperate, like he couldn’t get enough, made you feel like you were the one who was losing ground, who was being swept away in the tide of emotions that you could barely understand, let alone control.

Alex’s lips finally broke away from yours, and he sucked in a ragged, desperate gasp. His chest heaved as he tried to catch his breath and steady himself, his mouth previously too preoccupied by yours to do its actual job and his nose so squished up against your face it was utterly useless. He blinked up at you, dazed, like he was still trying to process everything that had just happened. His lips were swollen and tinged pink from the intensity of the kiss, and for a moment, all he could do was stare at you, his eyes wide with a mix of awe and disbelief.

“You’re pretty.” he managed to say, his voice barely more than a whisper, low and a little hoarse, but it was enough to make your heart skip a beat. The words tumbled out almost unthinkingly, but they were sincere. In the dim light, with your flushed cheeks and tousled hair, you looked impossibly beautiful to him. His eyes were wide, and if he’d been a cartoon character, there would’ve been hearts floating around his head right then.

You smiled, biting your lip as you leaned in closer. “Pretty enough to suck you off?” you asked, the words slipping out casually, almost like you were asking about the weather.

For a second, it was like someone had hit pause on the world. The haze of lust that had clouded his mind lifted just enough for him to register what you’d said, and he blinked at you in confusion, his brain scrambling to catch up.

“What?” he asked, his voice cracking slightly.

You didn’t hesitate, didn’t even flinch. “Your dick.” you repeated, as if it was the most normal thing in the world. “Can I suck it?”

His brain short-circuited for a moment. He was sure he must have misheard, that maybe the vodka was playing tricks on his ears. “What?” he asked again, dumbly.

“You’re hard.” you said, your tone matter-of-fact, like you were pointing out something as obvious as the sky being blue.

The realisation hit him like a ton of bricks. He hadn’t even noticed it himself, too lost in the heat of the moment to register the way his body had responded to you. But now that you’d pointed it out, it was impossible to ignore. He could feel it, the unmistakable pressure straining against his jeans, and more importantly, he knew that you could feel it too. Embarrassment flooded his system, a hot flush creeping up his neck as he realised that you were fully aware of the effect you had on him.

“Oh.” was all he could manage. His eyes flicked down, taking in the way you were straddling him, the way your bodies were pressed so close together that there was no way you hadn’t felt it.

Before he could even think of a response, your hands were already moving to his zipper, fingers working to undo his jeans. His mind was still reeling, trying to process what was happening, but his body reacted instinctively. He didn’t protest, didn’t try to stop you, because how could he? He’d have to be out of his mind to say no to this. The thought of saying no to this, to you, was so ridiculous it didn’t even cross his mind.

It wasn’t like it was his first time getting a blowjob or anything. That had happened a while ago, back when he was still tutoring Jenny. His mind flashed back to her now. Jay, as he used to call her, for reasons he couldn’t quite remember. She’d been his first, the first girl to ever put her mouth on him like this. It had happened during one of those tutoring sessions that were more about anything but tutoring. One thing had led to another, and suddenly their study sessions had turned into something very different. He’d help her with her homework, or just do it for her really, and in return, she’d go down on him. Homework, blowjob, simple as that. A straightforward, almost transactional, arrangement. It had made him feel a little like a slut at first, but he’d gotten over it eventually. They both got what they wanted, so what did it matter?

But this was different. This wasn’t a transactional thing, a quid-pro-quo. This was you, the girl he’d been sneaking glances at for ages, the one he’d been hoping would notice him in the same way he’d noticed you. And now here you were, your hands already sliding his zipper down, your fingers brushing against the growing bulge in his jeans. There was no homework, no transaction, just a burning need that neither of you could ignore.

As you tugged his zipper down, the sound was sharp in the quiet room, and Alex swallowed hard, his breath catching in his throat. He couldn’t believe this was happening, that you were the one doing this, and that he was about to let you. But your fingers brushed against him and any lingering doubts evaporated, replaced by a singular, overwhelming thought.

He’d be a fucking idiot to say no.

His heart pounded in his chest, so loud he was sure you could hear it, and he swallowed hard, his mouth suddenly dry. He couldn’t think of anything to say, anything that would make sense, so he just let himself fall back into the moment, his breath hitching as your hand found its way inside his jeans.

You were right. He was hard, painfully so now that you were touching him, and he didn’t know how much longer he could hold back the groan building in his throat. His head fell back against the wall, his hands fisting in the sheets as he gave in to the sensations washing over him, and all he could think was that he’d never been more grateful to be here, in this room, with you.

You slid off the bed, the mattress shifting as your weight left it, and knelt down on the floor in front of him. The carpet was rough against your knees, but you barely noticed, too focused on what was about to happen. Alex shifted to the edge of the bed, his legs spread wide and his jeans hanging open, pushed down just enough to free his erection. He leaned back on his arms, eyes locked on you, his mouth slightly open, still processing the reality of what you were about to do.

His mind was spinning, a chaotic mix of arousal and disbelief. It was like a fever dream, the kind that felt so real you almost didn’t want to wake up, and his body was caught up in the heat of it, his cock throbbing with need. He could feel it, how hard he was, how desperate, and the way you were looking at him only made it worse. Every nerve in his body was screaming for attention and you were the only one who could give it to him.

“Fuck.” he breathed out, the word slipping from his lips before he could even think. It was all he could say, all he could think. The anticipation was killing him, the seconds stretching out as your lips hovered just above his tip, your breath warm against him.

And then, finally, you kissed the tip of his cock, a soft, teasing brush of your lips that sent a jolt of pleasure through his entire body. His breath hitched, eyes fluttering shut for a moment as the sensation washed over him. But it wasn’t enough, not nearly enough. His body was screaming for more, and before he could stop himself, his hand was in your hair, fingers tangling in the strands as he pushed you down.

If he had been sober, he might have hesitated, might have been more careful, more considerate. But the alcohol had stripped away his inhibitions, leaving nothing but raw need. You were offering yourself to him, and he couldn’t take any teasing, any slow build-up. He needed you. Needed your mouth, your touch, everything you were willing to give him. And he needed it now.

You didn’t resist, letting him guide you down, taking him deeper into your mouth. The feeling of your lips wrapped around him, your tongue flicking against the sensitive underside of his shaft, was almost too much to handle. A low groan escaped him, his head falling back as his hips jerked forward involuntarily, pushing himself further into your mouth.

“Fuck…” he breathed again, the word barely audible this time, more of a gasp than anything. His mind was reeling, lost in the sensation, in the way your mouth felt so fucking good around him. He couldn’t think, couldn’t do anything but feel. Feel the way you were sucking him, the way your tongue moved against him, the wet heat of your mouth driving him closer and closer.

His grip on your hair tightened, not enough to hurt, but enough to keep you in place, to keep you exactly where he needed you. He knew he was being rough, knew that he was taking more than he was giving, but he couldn’t stop himself. He was too far gone, too wrapped up in the haze of lust and alcohol to care about anything other than the mind-blowing pleasure you were giving him.

Every time you took him deeper, he felt like he was going to lose it, like he was about to explode. His hips kept moving, his body acting on instinct, chasing the high, the release that was building up inside him with every passing second. It was overwhelming and he couldn’t get enough.

His breath was coming in ragged gasps now, his chest heaving as he fought to hold on, to make this moment last as long as possible. But it was a losing battle, and he knew it. The way you were sucking him, the way your mouth moved around him, it was too much, too perfect, and he was too close.

As if all the tension inside him snapped at once, Alex came hard into your mouth, without any warning. No groan of impending release, no frantic grip on your hair, not even a gasp. It was sudden, almost catching him by surprise as much as it did you. The warm, salty taste of his cum flooded your mouth, thick and overwhelming. For a brief moment, you savoured it, the taste of him mixed with the heat of the moment.

But then, as the reality of it set in, something shifted inside you. The warmth of his cum combined with its slimy texture suddenly made your stomach churn violently. The alcohol you’d been drinking all night, which had been simmering quietly in the background, now surged to the forefront, bringing with it a wave of nausea that you couldn’t ignore. Panic gripped you as the sick feeling intensified. The last thing you wanted was to vomit on him. Or anywhere near him for that matter.

Your body moved on instinct. You pulled away from him quickly, a soft gag escaping you as you scrambled to your feet. Without even thinking, you bolted for the bathroom attached to his room, the door banging open as you rushed inside. You barely made it to the toilet in time, spitting out his cum before your body betrayed you, the contents of your stomach following shortly after.

You could hear him in the distance, but his voice was faint, almost like it was coming from another room entirely. Alex was still too dazed, too caught up in the post-orgasmic haze to fully register what was happening.

He heard the sounds coming from the bathroom. Gagging, retching. But his brain was too foggy to process them properly. All he could do was lay there, his body too heavy, his limbs too leaden with exhaustion to move. The alcohol in his own system wasn’t helping either. Every time he thought about getting up, his stomach churned in warning, a reminder that if he got too close to you right now, he’d probably end up puking right alongside you.

So he stayed put, collapsing back onto the bed with a groan. Reality was starting to creep back in, bringing with it the uncomfortable awareness of his surroundings and the mess of the night.

With a sigh, Alex reached down to shove his softening cock back into his jeans. His movements were sluggish, his fingers fumbling with the denim as he tried to pull his jeans back up over his hips. The waistband caught awkwardly, resisting his half-hearted attempts to zip them up. After a moment of struggling, he gave up, leaving the zipper undone.

What was the point, anyway? It didn’t seem worth the effort to fix it. You’d already seen everything there was to see. The thought made his cheeks flush slightly, but it was hard to care too much. The embarrassment that might have flooded him in a sober moment was dulled.

He let his jeans rest loosely around his hips, the zipper gaping open but ignored. Instead, he let himself fall back against the bed, too drained to do much else. He could feel everything sloshing around inside him, the alcohol threatening to come back up if he wasn’t careful. He focused on breathing, slow and steady, willing himself to keep everything down, to avoid joining you in the bathroom for what would be an absolutely humiliating scenario for the both of you.

He didn’t know when he fell asleep. The line between being awake and unconscious blurred until it didn’t matter anymore, the exhaustion pulling him under without a fight. But somewhere in the middle of the night, he stirred, half-aware of the sound of the bathroom door creaking open and the soft shuffling of feet on the carpet.

You returned to bed, your movements careful and hesitant as you slipped back under the covers beside him. You said something, soft, slurred words that he couldn’t quite catch, but that didn’t seem to matter. He heard enough to know you were there, that you hadn’t left. He remembered muttering something back to you, vague words of reassurance or maybe an apology, he wasn’t sure. All he knew was that he could feel the comforting warmth of your body as you curled up next to him.

In the half-light of the room, he wrapped his arms around you, pulling you close. You fit perfectly against him, your head nestled against his chest. He let out a slow breath, his body relaxing into yours as sleep pulled him under again.

The next morning, Alex woke up with a groan, his body stiff and aching in ways that only a night of drinking could cause. His bare back was yet again pressed uncomfortably against the cold, scratchy wall, and he shifted slightly, trying to ease the discomfort. He felt oddly cramped, pinned in place, but he couldn’t immediately figure out why.

He blinked his eyes open, wincing at the dull light filtering through the curtains. His head throbbed, a steady, painful reminder of the vodka that had fueled the night before. As he tried to move, he realised with a start that there was something, or rather, someone, pressed up against him. His heart skipped a beat as his mind scrambled to piece together the events of the previous night.

Slowly, the fog in his brain began to clear. He looked down and saw you curled up against his chest, your body warm and soft against him. The sight of you there triggered a rush of memories: the games, the kiss, the bathroom, and finally, you coming back to bed and settling in next to him. That much made sense. And it made him smile to himself.

But as his senses sharpened, he realised that there was another body on the other side of you.

Confused, he craned his neck to see over you, and that’s when he spotted his roommate, cramped in the small space beside you, sound asleep. Alex stared at the guy for a long moment, trying to piece together how the hell he’d ended up there. His brain was still too muddled to remember his assigned roommate’s name right now, though he vaguely recalled some conversation about sharing the bed. But that seemed like a lifetime ago.

“What the fuck?” he muttered under his breath, trying to make sense of the situation.

He shifted slightly, trying to get more comfortable, but all it did was make the situation even more awkward. His roommate didn’t stir, completely passed out, oblivious to the uncomfortable tension that was making Alex’s skin crawl.

He stared at him, a mix of irritation and disbelief washing over him. Couldn’t he take the hint? He finally had a girl in his bed, for once, and this guy was just sprawled out there, completely oblivious. “Ugh.” he groaned, the frustration slipping out in a low, exasperated sound.

He rubbed a hand over his face, trying to clear the lingering fog in his head. If he wasn’t so hungover, he might’ve had the presence of mind to consider that Oliver, yeah, that was his name, he remembered now, was probably just as plastered as he was, if not more. In that state, it wasn’t like he would’ve noticed or cared about anything happening on the bed.

Still, it didn’t make the situation any less annoying.

Alex shifted again, trying to make more room for himself and you, but the cramped space only amplified the awkwardness. He bit back another groan, forcing himself to stay calm even as his mind raced with frustration. All he wanted was a moment alone with you, a chance to figure out what the hell this night meant, but instead, he was stuck with a third wheel passed out beside him.

Great, he thought, his annoyance bubbling up again. This was definitely not how he pictured the morning after.

But then you stirred beside him, your hand brushing against his chest as you snuggled closer, and his annoyance faded just a bit.

a/n: last thing i have in my drafts that i like 😓 based on these requests x & x

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

#i want to consume him #(in the non-cannibalism way)#this is genius #and i need him right now #who do i have to beg #goblinontour strikes gold again #hot hot hot #and then cute cute cute #also fetus al

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