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artyandink · 5 months ago

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flour fire

SUMMARY: Baking with Alec? It’s more of a challenge than it lets on, really. Especially since he’s a goof in and out, and now you have to deal with it. But then again, you could get carried away yourself, even if you don’t want to.

TW: fluff, baking, Alec being a soft smartass

A/N: Here’s the Alec fic, you guys! Enjoy :) banner by @cafekitsune

NOW PLAYING: sunroof by nicky youre and dazy

Baking with Alec was always an adventure, one that you couldn't have possibly predicted. A simple task like making cookies turned into something out of a slapstick comedy, with a little bit of chaos, a lot of laughter, and, of course, Alec being Alec.

You had initially started out with high hopes. Chocolate chip cookies, maybe some brownies if things went well. That’s what you told yourself as you preheated the oven, pulling ingredients out of the cupboards while Alec leaned against the counter, watching you with that annoyingly charming smirk.

“I can’t believe I let you talk me into this,” Alec said, arms folded over his chest. He was clearly in no hurry to start helping, which wasn’t exactly surprising.

“Baking is good for the soul,” you replied, placing a bag of flour on the counter and pointing a wooden spoon at him. “Also, I distinctly remember you suggesting this when we ran out of cookies last night.”

“That doesn’t sound like me,” he said, his grin widening. “But I’m here for moral support.”

“Right. Moral support,” you said, rolling your eyes. “Which is code for ‘standing around looking pretty while I do all the work.’”

Alec shrugged in that casual, infuriating way of his. “Hey, I didn’t say I wouldn’t help. I’m just waiting for you to mess something up so I can swoop in and save the day.”

“You are the worst,” you deadpanned, turning back to measure out some flour.

But before you could even get the scoop into the flour bag, Alec was right behind you, hands on your hips. “The worst, huh? You really want to say that to the guy who’s about to show you how to make the best cookies of your life?”

“Big words for someone who doesn’t know the difference between baking powder and baking soda,” you shot back, though you couldn’t help but smile as you felt him press a kiss to the back of your neck.

“Details,” he muttered into your hair before stepping back, all confident and cocky, as if he knew exactly what he was doing.

You handed him the flour. “Alright, hotshot. Show me your cookie-making genius.”

He gave you a wink, grabbing the measuring cup with way too much enthusiasm. “Step one: measure the flour,” Alec said, like he was hosting his own cooking show. “Which I will now do…with expert precision.”

You crossed your arms and watched as he dug the measuring cup into the bag, completely ignoring the fact that you were supposed to level it off. He poured what was probably more like a mountain than a cup of flour into the mixing bowl, a cloud of white powder rising up between you two like smoke from a fire.

“Perfect,” he declared, brushing some flour off his hands. “Nailed it.”

“Are you sure you’re not supposed to sift that?” you asked, already regretting letting him anywhere near the ingredients.

“Sifting is for people who don’t trust their flour,” Alec replied, dusting off his hands as if the mess wasn’t his problem anymore. “I trust my flour.”

You pinched the bridge of your nose. “Yeah, well, I don’t trust you.”

“That’s rude,” Alec said, gasping in mock offense. “I’m wounded.”

“Oh, you’ll be wounded when we have to eat whatever monstrosity you’re about to make,” you muttered, grabbing the bag of sugar before Alec could get his hands on it. “Here. Measure this. Carefully. And level it off, for the love of all things cookie-related.”

Alec took the sugar from you, but not without waggling his eyebrows in a way that told you he was definitely about to make a joke. “I thought I was sweet enough for both of us,” he said, flashing that infuriating grin of his.

You groaned. “I take it back. I’m baking alone. Go sit in the corner.”

“Too late, you’re stuck with me,” he said, dumping an alarming amount of sugar into the bowl with absolutely zero finesse. “And besides, I’m helping! This is a team effort.”

“You’re like a walking disaster, Alec.”

He shot you a look, pretending to be hurt. “I am not. I’m more like…an agent of culinary chaos.”

“Yeah, that’s exactly the same thing,” you replied, snatching the sugar back from him before he could do any more damage. “You’re not even following the recipe.”

“Recipes are just guidelines,” he said, waving a dismissive hand. “Like pirate codes.”

“This is baking, not ‘Pirates of the Caribbean,’” you pointed out, but your protest was met with Alec grabbing a handful of chocolate chips and tossing them into his mouth like it was a bag of popcorn.

“These are good,” he said through a mouthful, nodding approvingly. “Want some?”

You stared at him, unimpressed. “You’re supposed to put those in the cookies.”

Alec raised an eyebrow and held out another handful of chocolate chips toward you. “I can’t hear you over how delicious these are.”

You couldn’t help it — you laughed. Alec was impossible, but he was also hilarious in that way that made it hard to stay mad. “You’re ridiculous.”

“And you love me for it,” he said, popping another chocolate chip into his mouth.

“Unfortunately,” you replied, though the smile on your face said otherwise.

The next few minutes were a blur of you trying to salvage the mess Alec had created. Flour and sugar were scattered across the counter, like a snowstorm had hit your kitchen. The cookie dough was coming together, albeit with a few more “creative liberties” than you were comfortable with, thanks to Alec’s insistence that “a little extra butter never hurt anyone.”

But just when you thought things were finally under control, Alec reached for the eggs.

“Wait—” you started, but it was too late. Alec, in his infinite wisdom, cracked an egg directly into the bowl…shell and all.

You stared at the chunks of eggshell floating in the dough. “Alec. Why?”

He blinked at you innocently. “I’m adding texture.”

“You added eggshells.”

“They’re crunchy. It’s a new thing. Very gourmet.”

You buried your face in your hands. “I’m baking with a five-year-old.”

Alec laughed, stepping closer and wrapping an arm around your waist. “Admit it. You’re having fun.”

You peeked at him from between your fingers, trying to keep a straight face, but failing miserably. “No. I’m suffering.”

“Uh-huh,” he said, brushing a thumb across your cheek, smearing a bit of flour in the process. “You love it.”

You sighed dramatically. “Fine. But only because you’re cute.”

He grinned, clearly taking that as a victory. “I’ll take it.”

With the dough finally mixed — and the eggshells carefully removed, much to Alec’s chagrin — you began rolling the cookie dough into little balls, placing them on a baking sheet while Alec hovered around, occasionally stealing chunks of raw dough.

“You’re going to get salmonella,” you said, swatting his hand away for what felt like the hundredth time.

“Worth it,” he replied, popping another piece into his mouth. “Tastes like victory.”

“Tastes like regret,” you corrected, though you couldn’t help but laugh.

Once the cookies were in the oven, you both leaned against the counter, watching them bake through the tiny oven window. Alec nudged you with his elbow.

“See? We make a good team.”

“Yeah, after I did most of the work,” you teased.

Alec scoffed. “Please. I was the brains of this operation.”

“You were the comic relief.”

“I was both.”

You rolled your eyes, but before you could respond, Alec grabbed a handful of flour and, without warning, tossed it in your direction. It wasn’t much — just a small puff — but it was enough to catch you off guard.

“Alec!” you yelped, brushing the flour off your shirt. “Did you just…?”

He was already laughing, holding his hands up in surrender. “It was an accident!”

“Sure it was,” you said, narrowing your eyes at him.

You bent down, scooping up some flour of your own from the counter. Alec’s eyes widened.

“Wait, wait, wait,” he said, backing away with his hands still up. “Truce! I surrender!”

But it was too late. You flung the flour at him with a grin, hitting him square in the chest.

Alec stood there, stunned for a second, before he burst out laughing. “Oh, you’re asking for it now.”

Before you could escape, Alec lunged forward, grabbing the bag of flour and dumping some into his hand. You shrieked, trying to dodge, but he was faster, smearing flour across your face in retaliation.

It quickly devolved into chaos after that — flour flying everywhere, the kitchen turning into something resembling a battlefield. At one point, Alec tried to grab the bag of chocolate chips to use as ammo, but you wrestled it out of his hands, both of you laughing so hard that you could barely stand.

By the time the oven timer went off, signaling that the cookies were done, the kitchen looked like a flour bomb had gone off. There was flour in your hair, on Alec’s face, and pretty much on every surface within a five-foot radius.

“Okay,” Alec said, out of breath as he leaned against the counter, hands on his knees. “That may have gotten a little out of hand.”

“A little?” you said, brushing flour out of your eyebrows.

He straightened up, grinning. “Totally worth it.”

You shook your head, trying and failing to keep a straight face. “We’re never baking again.”

“Don’t say things you don’t mean,” Alec teased, wiping some flour off his cheek and flicking it at you.

You opened the oven and pulled out the tray of cookies, setting them on the counter to cool. Miraculously, they looked edible.

Alec peered over your shoulder. “See? Told you. Perfect cookies.”

“Yeah, after we nearly destroyed the kitchen,” you said, though you were smiling. “But I’ll give you this one. They do look pretty good.”

Alec wrapped his arms around your waist from behind, resting his chin on your shoulder. “I knew we could do it. Teamwork.”

You leaned back against him, smiling as you both looked at the cookies. “You’re lucky I love you.”

“More than cookies?” he asked, his voice playful.

You turned your head to look at him. “It’s close.”

He laughed, pressing a kiss to your cheek, then to your lips. “I’ll take it.”

And as you both stood there, covered in flour and surrounded by the remnants of your chaotic baking adventure, you couldn’t help but think that, despite everything, this was exactly where you wanted to be.

©️ 𝐚𝐫𝐭𝐲𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐢𝐧𝐤 / 𝐚𝐫𝐭𝐲’𝐬 𝐬𝐭𝐮𝐝𝐢𝐨

𝐈 𝐝𝐨 𝐧��𝐭 𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐬𝐞𝐧𝐭 𝐭𝐨 𝐦𝐲 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐤 𝐛𝐞𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐜𝐨𝐩𝐢𝐞𝐝/𝐫𝐞𝐩𝐨𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐝

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daylighted · 2 months ago

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alec mcdowell & transgenic!user - a million kisses ㅤ ┊ ㅤ (18+!)

i want someone to promise me a million kisses and more . . . or, he's your first everything; first, and second, and fifth, and tenth.

includes, MDNI. ㅤ explicit sexual content ㅤ (light ) breeding kink ㅤ unprotected p in v ㅤ first times! �� fluffy smut ㅤ like genuinely sickly sweet ㅤ soft dom!alec ㅤ best friend!reader ㅤ dirty talk ㅤ talks you through it creampie (hate this word sm sorrY)

req by @foxylady493 hehe thank u for giving me an excuse to write ab rawdoggin alec mcdowell HAHA

word count: 6.2k and for what like genuinely.

★ ˚⋆

somewhere, in one of the books that joshua had stolen for you, with a well worn cover and soft pages, with faded ink painting the front cardstock, you'd read something that stuck with you. i want someone to promise me a million kisses.

it was one of those passing thoughts that embeds itself into your psyche, a physical thing lodged between the folds of your brain, making itself evident every time you tried to forget it. a million kisses... and you'd never had one.

hell, you'd never even wanted to. you were everything manticore wanted you to be; loyal to the greatest extent, dedicated to your training, dominating the rest of the x5 series by a long shot — well, alongside your best friend alec.

alec, who really kept you motivated and on your toes, because he was so effortlessly good. he could sprint the entire forest on the grounds' base three times while you'd be on your second. he could pick you up with ease, and often did, urging you to work on your strength that little bit more so that you could do the same to him.

he was lifting you with one arm, actually, when you'd both been called back to your cells abruptly. it was awkward, in a way, moreso than it would have been for any normal human being, because of how unfamiliar you were with awkward situations. having to be sat down so you could properly address the guard in front of you, the same one who'd just been watching the both of you try and lift each other like barbells?

it only managed to get worse, somehow, when you were both ushered into your cell, followed by one of the directors, a woman with short blonde hair and a fierce stare.

something about this felt like a punishment, or a bad omen. how could you know, then, what a turning point this was going to be for you? the both of you?

"stand down, 494, 490." her lips are quirked with knowledge she isn't sharing, her hands folded neatly behind her back. "no need for formalities. not... for this."

you know better than to say a word out of turn, and so does alec, but you feel his confusion radiating off of him, a mirror image of your own, in the way his shoulders tense back.

her lips curl higher, a tight lipped smile that looks almost sinister in the dull lighting of your cell. "you are both aware of the situation with our labs, i imagine," she continues, slowly, like she's waiting for one of you to piece it together. "all of our genetic data, up in flames, and no way to continue creating soldiers to uphold the legacy the two of you are sure to bring."

directors do not ever come in with compliments, especially so strong, without something up their sleeves. "unless..."

it's one word, but it hits you and alec like a wave. him first, as he draws in a sharp breath, and then you, your stoic expression faltering at once. unless they use their current x5s to make those soldiers.

"it's only natural to pair you two off, what with how... close, you've gotten, over these years." there was a shared trauma that rooted the two of you to each other. him, being a clone of x5-493, and you, of 491.

something was off in their coding, a mixture of genetics and dna that didn't mesh. people were tightlipped about 493 and the seemingly endless amount of death he left in his wake, but they were sure to remind you about 491, the only one who, seemingly, kept his head screwed on straight the rare times that it was.

i want someone to promise me a million kisses... did she feel the same way? did he manage a million before his life was taken? you couldn't help but wonder it, especially with how many times the words killer kisser were thrown in your face. maybe that was why you were so attached to the idea of being kissed. you were stuck on the outside of a secret, wondering how kisses could render a troubled man's mind silent for a little while.

you had zoned out without realizing, stuck in a past that didn't belong to you. "are we clear?" the woman asks, her eyes lingering particularly long on you.

your face flushes with shame. shame for not listening, for missing the entire purpose of this conversation because you'd been daydreaming about an obscene amount of kisses for one person to receive.

alec speaks up for you, saving you from a potential reprimand or punishment, as he often did. "all clear."

"good." her eyes stay on yours for a beat too long, like she's daring you to break, before she nods once. "you've got one hour."

and with that, she stalks out of the room, the guards waiting on either side of your open door stepping out of line to trail behind her. the door hisses shut, and then it's just you and alec. you should know why. if you'd listened—

"you could have been less obvious, you know," alec says with a scoff of laughter, as he breaks his straight-backed stance and crosses to your bed in the corner. he sinks down on it, strong enough that his weight bounces on the springy mattress, legs spread open as he made himself right at home.

you blink once, twice. "less obvious with what?"

"oh, i don't know," his lips twist in mock thought, before they tilt into a dazzling smile, "starin' off like you don't even know where you are."

"i was just—"

"not listening. yeah, established, nelly." alec's eyebrows raise in his amusement, strong arms folded nearly over his chest. "you're gonna be confused as hell when i start taking my clothes off, then."

you splutter, wordless sounds falling out in a flustered heap. "what?"

his head falls back in a fit of laughter, loud enough that it echoes off of the walls. "god, you really weren't listening!"

"just spit it out! what are you talking about?"

slowly, the smile tapers away, his laughter trails off, and you're just looking at each other. "gonna have to copulate, you and i."

your expression drops. any trace of amusement dissipates, a cold, icy feeling of dread flooding your veins. no. no. you couldn't. not with him. not when it would ruin—

a million kisses, a million kisses, a million kisses.

it always came back to that, didn't it? "no," you say aloud firmly, like your rejection can somehow reverse the fact that it has to happen. has to, because you would never betray a direct order. this was something being entrusted to you. "alec..."

"relax," he says, his hands up in surrender. "i'm not gonna just... force you to, nelly, c'mon." his hands fall into his lap again, a sigh leaving his mouth. "s'not easy for me either, this. i mean, you're my best friend."

was he suggesting that things would change once this started? that thought made your blood feel cold in your veins, ice crystallizing in the sinew, making your bones feel heavy and stiff.

"nelly." alec snaps his fingers, drawing your attention back to him and not the dread in your stomach. it always works, when he calls you the name he'd not-so-affectionately given you during training, once. negative nelly & smart alec. "c'mon, it's not— it's not gonna be that bad. kinda bruisin' my ego that you're this torn up about it."

you choke on a laugh, your fingers lifting to run through your hair. "shut up, alec."

"'shut up, alec,'" he mimics back at you, one corner of his mouth lifting higher in a softer grin. "has that ever worked, nell?"

you shake your head, in exasperation and answer, finally crossing the small expanse of the room to drop down onto the edge of your bed next to him. his thigh is pressed up against yours, a warm, familiar comfort when everything feels uncertain.

it's loaded now, this silence that falls between you. heavy like a weight and thick like fog. his eyes are on you —you can feel them, too— and it's jarring, how one direct order can flip an entire world on its axis.

you turn to meet those green eyes of his, and then alec's leaning in, suddenly, and it takes a blink for you to realize it. you startle, feeling hot and icy and flustered all at once. "i’ve never done this,” you blurt out, and how fucking embarrassing is that, confessing it like a sin?

“in what world do you think i have?” alec shoots back, his eyebrows raising in punctuation to the question. “i’d rather it be with you than someone else.”

your heart is racing uncomfortably quick, an unfamiliar flutter against your ribcage. “okay.”

“yeah?” he asks, and his large hand lifts, too, to rest his warm palm on the side of your cheek. his fingertips graze behind your ear, tangling in your soft hair. “yeah, okay, nelly.”

his thumb grazes gently over your cheekbone, like a final reassurance before you’re no longer dipping your toes into this idea but diving fully into its depths. his fingers on the back of your neck guide you toward him, until your breaths are mingling and getting to know each other.

your lips meet. the world stops.

it makes sense, now, how 491 could leash 493 with nothing but the press of her lips. it also makes sense why she stayed, despite all of the warning signs he must have given off, if alec’s lips were any indicator of how ben’s were.

the kiss is tentative at best, at first. he’s not coming any closer, and you’re sat ramrod straight on the bouncy mattress, and the only thing connecting you besides your mouths is the hand he keeps on your cheek. you imagine that this is how first kisses always feel; awkward and uncertain, as this new kind of trust builds itself from the ground up.

one kiss out of a million. how were you supposed to kiss anyone else, now, when this one felt so special?

he pulls back first, but his hand stays on your face, the other sneaking its way across the space between you and landing on yours in lap.

“not so bad, was it?” alec asks, a reassuring smile gracing his face. his thumb returns the gentle strokes over your cheek, his eyes sweeping over the expression you wear.

no, it wasn’t that bad. but your mind isn’t on the kiss but what’s supposed to come next. “how long are we supposed to… um…”

you’d never been the shy type around alec, but suddenly now, it feels like every word is lodged tightly in your throat. suddenly, he feels like a stranger instead of your best friend, this territory unfamiliar and scary, in its own way.

“until you’re pregnant,” he says easily — and of course it’s easy for him, he’s not the one that has to carry a genetically enhanced baby to term. “but—”

“no,” you say, raising a hand to cut him off. “no, i heard you.”

“but, we don’t have to start now, nelly,” he slows his words down, like delivering the blow more gently will somehow lessen the sting. “we don’t. it’s… it’s an order, yes, but you’re still my best friend, and i want you comfortable.”

that did reassure you. you’d have to commit to the orders given eventually, but for now? this was just… a prolonged break in the courtyard, where you could hang out without precaution.

“kinda like this new development, though,” he adds, that wicked grin of his tugging up onto his mouth, as he wraps his arms around your waist and lifts you up. you barely manage to squeak out the noise of surprise caught in your throat, before you’re settled in his lap. alec’s always been strong, but it’s so different, having him use that strength with you. “could get used to it.”

“shut up,” you grumble half-heartedly.

he grasps the collar of his shirt to drag you in. “order received.” and his mouth closes around yours once again; your second kiss of a million.

★ ˚⋆

“stop it, that’s not—” you huff out a hard, frustrated breath, your fingers closing around alec’s wrist. “that’s not what where your hands are supposed to go.”

alec had you sat comfortably in his lap again, after the day prior, you both learned that, despite the circumstances, it was a nice place to be. you were close enough that you could smack him if you had to, and clearly, you did.

“s’not my fault that you’re being a tease,” he grumbles in your ear, his lips so close to the sensitive skin that shivers trail down your spine. “sittin’ all pretty in my lap, not letting me follow orders.”

“oh, bite me,” you shoot back at him, your grip on alec’s wrist tightening as you yank it away from your ass. you can feel the heat of his skin even through the thick fabric of your camo cargos, and it’s completely distracting.

his free hand’s finger comes up to jab you firmly in the sternum. “you won’t let me.”

“i thought this was hard for you, too,” you argue, reaching up to grab his other hand now, the former still tightly in between your fingers. you knew the second you let it go, he’d not-so-subtly slide it right back down to your ass all over again, and where would you be? a rock — you — a hard place.

alec snatches his hand back quickly before you can grab that one, his eyebrows bouncing once in his amusement. “trust me, nelly, it’s very hard.”

you stare at him, unblinking for a long few seconds, before it clicks in your mind — and the feel of what was very hard presses against the core of you. your hand releases his, and you smack him once with the left, twice with the right. “alec!”

alec cackles, head falling back with his laughter. his hand, always so much quicker than you, catches one wrist, and then the other, in his lithe fingers. his other arm snakes around your waist and there’s a blink before you’re suddenly flipped on your back.

on your back, and he’s hovered above you, your pinned wrist firmly above your head and pressed lightly into the mattress. “you’re getting soft on me,” he pants, settled in between your legs, knees nudging them further apart. “you used to beat my ass when we’d spar.”

“you’re playing dirty.”

“am not,” he huffs out like a petulant child, “you’re just not playing. too worried up in that head about all of the logistics here.”

“aren’t you?” you ask him, and it’s genuine; how had 24 hours passed, and suddenly this was something he could just accept? you and him, engaging in things that best friends didn’t do. did they? “aren’t you afraid of…” your face reddens, your turn now to feel like a little kid. “doing it?”

alec’s shoulders lift. “not when it’s with you.”

he says it so genuinely that you know it’s true, the confidence of the words enough to take your breath away.

you’d never thought of it like that. sure, it’s intimidating, breaching this gap of things you’d done and things you hadn’t, but… with him, surely it couldn’t be anywhere near as bad as you were thinking.

“plus,” he adds as an afterthought, “we already agreed it wasn’t going to change a thing, didn’t we? s’just work.”

just work. it didn’t feel like just work, but you were always reading too much into things, anyways. that’s why you and alec just worked. he was the laidback to your on edge.

you sigh. he’s getting to you. he’s unnaturally good at reading all of your fears written in your eyes and unpacking each of them, explaining them to you so they weren’t so scary anymore. “just tell me what to do. we can lie to the directors again, if we have to, if you just wanna… i dunno, chill out. could kiss again.”

“alec.”

“suggestion!” he raises his free hand in defense, before he lets it drop down to your thigh. “just a suggestion.”

it was a good suggestion, too. unfortunately for you, fortunately for him. you didn’t want to get too comfortable in these uncharted territories, out of fear it’d all get muddled and then where would you be? too uncomfortable to be friends, too familiar not to be.

“kiss me.” your mouth moves before you’ve even realized the words are out, floating between the two of you like a declaration.

he moves his hand from your wrists and lets it fall in the open expanse of your neck. his fingers are cold this time, even though your blood is hot. “yeah?” it feels achingly familiar to the gentle way he’d said it the day prior. “alright.”

“alright.”

is it supposed to be this awkward? firsts were always awkward. this had to be normal. if you started to think about how maybe it wasn’t normal, and you were embarrassing yourself, and he was embarrassing himself, and everything was about to be ruined, you’d—

alec leans in again, but he doesn’t kiss you on the lips, like you expected. instead, his mouth finds your jaw, teeth grazing the skin lightly, lips pressing reverently on the bone as he sucks the little mouthful of skin between them.

you gasp, your eyes fluttering closed, eyelashes as soft as butterfly wings on your cheekbone. “relax,” he breathes, hot breath on hot skin making you squirm beneath him, “i know what i’m doin’.”

“oh, do you?” you smile, a bit dazed as his tongue traces along the line of your jaw until he reaches the space beneath your ear.

“mhm.” he leaves a trail of wet, warm kisses down the side of your neck, then back up your throat. “thought about this all night. know what i’m doin’.”

oh. no wonder he’d been pretty accepting of their circumstances. alec spent all of night prior thinking about you, and how he’d pick you apart.

the thought makes another shiver run down your spine, a warm pool in your lower stomach. “alec—”

“here,” he interrupts, halting your train of thought before it delves again. “put your hand here,” he pants softly into your sensitive skin, his fingers finding yours and guiding them underneath the gray fabric of his shirt. you feel every muscle on his abdomen, feel each flex beneath the cold touch of your fingers. “yeah, that’s it.”

alec straightens up a little so that he can curl his own hands beneath his shirt, tugging it up and over his head. it falls in a heap at his feet, and he’s on you again a second later, his lips marking a wet trail of kisses up your throat. once he reaches your chin, he continues the onslaught, capturing your lips in a firm kiss.

this one is different than the one the night prior. it’s more confident, sure of himself. his tongue swipes at your bottom lip, and in your surprised gasp, he tucks it between your lips. that part of the kiss is tentative, like enacting the things he’d thought about was more nerve wracking than he’d let on.

you smile. he drags his teeth across your puffed bottom lip. “oh, you like that?” he asks against the soft skin of your mouth, arrogance coating every one of his words. “mm, okay.”

his hands run down your sides, hooking beneath your shirt and bunching it up in his fists. “this okay?” he asks, lifting his head enough to search your eyes.

you nod, taken aback, almost, by the flood of black overtaking his irises. “it’s okay.”

his grin is mesmerizing. had he always been so attractive? had he always looked like something sculpted and molded, just for you, and you’d only just noticed? “okay,” he echoes, and he nudges your extended arm with his elbow, “lift your arms for me.”

neither of you really know what you’re doing, but he has a little bit of an upperhand, what with the fantasies he’d created in his head.

“what all did you think about?” you ask him, tracing your eyes over his face to keep from thinking about how he was undressing you, and you were slowly being beared to him fully.

alec’s eyebrows twitch, his eyes lifting from your bare skin up to yours again. “last night?”

“yeah. i wanna know.”

he shakes his head. “no, nelly,” he laughs under his breath, his heavy-lidded eyes raking over your body again. “m’not lettin’ you know. you’re shakin’ in your boots already.”

“well, then what did you do? just lay in bed, thinkin’ about me?” you shoot back, your mouth dropping into a pout at the denial.

alec’s lips quirk. “something like that.”

“alec—” you’re cut off by his lips pressing to yours again. his fingers run reverently down your chest, his touch shuddery as they graze over your breasts. he groans, and the air in your lungs stutters hard in your chest. every thought is shattering to pieces before you can think them, focused instead on the feel of his hands on you in places that you didn’t think anyone would ever touch.

“i know you’re scared,” he mumbles in your mouth, his hand drifting lower, slowly but steadier than before. “so i want you in control. in case—” his touch comes to a stop at the buttons on your camo cargos. alec pauses like he’s dazed, clearing his throat. “in case you want to stop. at any point.”

he’s such an arrogant dickhead most of the time, one that you’ve come to adore in every possible way, but here? now? he’s the sweetest person you’ve ever met.

“here, lift your hips for me,” his nimble fingers have already undone the button, before you’d even blinked, “good girl — see? m’so proud of you, baby.”

baby. he’d never called you baby before. your smile is immediate, even as you feel like you’re being electrocuted with how your skin is buzzing. his knuckles light a fire down you as they brush lightly against your thighs, your calves.

your hand lifts to rest under his chin, tilting his head up to look at you again. how many kisses is this now? you can’t even think, now, not as you drag him in for another kiss. five? six? not enough, is the simple answer.

alec entertains the kiss for a few seconds before he’s pulling back, even taking a step away. your body chills at the loss of his heat, and the self awareness of how you must look to him. mostly naked, sprawled backwards on your bed, looking up at him with big, wide eyes. you open your mouth to say something snarky to him, anything to quell the heavy silence, when he whispers, “you’re so damn beautiful, nelly.”

he undoes the buttons on his pants quickly, shoving them down his muscular thighs and pooling at his ankles. it’s intimidating, staring into the eyes of someone who was your best friend through and through, while neither of you are wearing anything besides undergarments.

this was the guy who’d talked you out of making any rash decisions after you’d had the insult of killer kisser thrown in your face, all because of the girl your dna was cloned from. who squeezed your hands and told you to fuckin’ ignore them. what do they know? who’d been a cell apart from you in your psyops isolation, making sure he wasn’t infected with whatever rotted ben’s mind into darkness, and you weren’t susceptible to falling into hi

alec steps around you to sink onto the mattress beside you, shifting backwards until his back hits the concrete wall, turning so that he’s facing straight forward. his hands pat his thighs, nodding his head in gesture — or maybe to get you to stop ogling him like he was someone new and not your alec.

“lookin’ at me like you don’t know me,” he mumbles, reaching out to snatch your elbow when you don’t move. it’s intimidating. sitting in his lap with so little separating the two of you? of course you were hesitating! “don’t be ridiculous. m’still the guy you pushed down the stairs five years ago.”

“that,” you exhale shakily, as you sit down on his thighs, desperately trying to ignore the heat beneath you, and the heat between your legs, “was an accident.”

“bull.” he moves his hands to the clasps of your bra, undoing each hook individually, keeping his eyes locked on yours. “i saw how you looked at me before you did it.”

you bristle, shoving him back by the shoulder until his back presses against the cool concrete. “like i’m looking at you now?”

slowly, he tugs the straps of your bra down your arms, his grin faltering as his eyes drift downward at the same time. “yeah.” he clears his throat. clears it again. “yeah, like you’re lookin’ at me now.”

your eyes follow his, and you suck in a slow, deep breath. somehow, the fucker had talked his way into taking your bra off without you even noticing. kept you distracted long enough to not fuss over it.

how many kisses out of a million could one man give? you hoped all of them. you hoped more than a million.

the silence is heavy but it’s less awkward now. most of the hard parts were over, and you’d already established there was no reason to be nervous, not with alec. never with alec.

“here,” he says, his voice still coming out rasped even through his attempts otherwise to quell it. “hips up again f’me… yeah, just like that.” alec’s fingers hook into the waistband of your panties, pulling them down until they’re caught where you’re straddling him. “left leg up… perfect, baby, right one… perfect, baby. absolutely perfect.”

the praise makes you feel hot. sure, he’d said things like this before, praising each of your actions when you’d done good at training, or came back from a mission successful. this is different. intimate.

"keep 'em up real quick, alright?" he murmurs, shifting beneath you enough to lift his own hips up, hands pulling down his boxers over his thighs. his hand slips, giving way to the nervousness he had buried deep, as it slaps against your bare thigh. "my bad," he chuckles lowly, kicking them off with the foot closest to the bed's edge. his fingers curl around your leg, kneading at the soft flesh. "you've got me all messed up in my head."

"enough to hit me?" you tease, your smile returning again to your lips. "that's cruel, alec. you said you weren't playing dirty."

"m'not," alec insists, his thumb catching your chin and dragging you down into a kiss, and then another.

you laugh on his lips, trying to shake free from his grip. "are too."

he sits up, chasing your mouth when you start to pull away, swallowing your lips in an onslaught of kisses. "i can show you 'playing dirty'." his hands slide down your sides, fingers brushing your ass as they firmly grasp your thighs, flipping the both of you so that your back is against the mattress.

you're strong enough to flip him back. to tackle him onto the mattress, to wrestle like you used to do when you were younger, and things were easier. you don't.

alec settles between your legs, using his hold on your thighs to lift your hips and align your entrance with the cock you have not looked at, nope, it feels too real to—

your eyes fall anyways when his do, watching him line himself up. all of his nervousness is gone again, like he teeters between it, only ever seeming to get nervous when it comes to addressing you. what you are. what this means.

“still okay?” at your nod, he nods too. “okay, sweet girl. let me just—” his hand comes between the both of you, grasping his cock between his fingers, as he pushes the thick head of it inside of you, his head falling back as your wetness coats it. “jeeeesus.”

“what?” you ask breathlessly, shifting to rest on your palms, glancing from his face to where he’s pulling out of you.

alec shakes his head, a grin spreading across his face. “nothing. nothing at all.” he pushes in again, slowly, deliberately, this time keeping his cock inside of your tight walls. “just thinking about you. always thinking about you.” his free hand goes to your shoulder, pushing you lightly back on the bed. “you just lay back and relax, alright? get out of that head.”

how were you supposed to get out of your head when now, the thing circling around in it is how he so casually declared that he was always—

it’s uncomfortable, as he fills you up. like something is wrong, doesn’t belong. you were definitely wet enough to take him, but it doesn’t stop the feeling of something being off that tingles up your spine.

“fuck, you’re so damn tight,” he groans, his voice as rough as gravel. alec rubs soothing circles into your skin with his thumb, before he lets his hand fall down to one of yours, grasping it in his. “squeeze if you wanna stop.”

even through the discomfort, you didn’t want to stop. not only had the gap already been bridged, but… you liked it. liked him. more than you ever would have realized on your own. the further he pushes into you, still in that achingly slow pace as he lets your pussy adjust to the feel of him inside of it, the easier that adjustment gets.

your fingers play with his, tracing over his knuckles, as your breaths tumble out in soft little pants. everything feels like its at a boiling point, like it’s seconds from spilling over.

“you asked why i wasn’t scared,” he says under his breath suddenly, eyes lifting to meet yours through the deep dark of his eyelashes, once he’s to the hilt deep inside of you, his pelvis pressed to yours in a sharing of blistering hot skin. “do you want to know why?”

he finishes the sentence, and slowly pulls back until his cock rests halfway inside of your throbbing pussy. the movement makes you whimper in your throat, the sound of it rough already. his fingers clamp around yours in reassurance. “i’ve thought about this a lot. that’s why.”

“liar,” you manage to rasp, a breathless moan of laughter punctuating the words, “y’don’t have to make me feel better anymore. i’m not scared.”

“i always,” alec thrusts into you again, quicker this time, already pulling back out, keeping that slow, leisurely pace until he’s absolutely certain you’re alright with the next part of it all, “always want to make you feel better.”

another thrust in, and something shifts this time. you can feel every inch, and suddenly, a tremor of ecstasy replaces the full discomfort. you gasp, and he surges forward to hover over you properly now, like that one little noise was enough reassurance for him.

“always want to take care of you, always want to make sure you’re happy,” alec continues, soft grunts slipping between his ramblings, “hell, i’ve thought about putting a baby in you before. just not… in this setting.”

the words shoot straight downwards, making your already aching pussy throb, clenching tightly around him. “i’m not gonna break, alec,” you say, forehead pressed to his. you dig your nails into the back of his hand, not squeezing it so he doesn’t stop, but urging him further. “stop acting like you’re gonna snap me in half. i’ve pushed you down the stairs before.”

alec laughs, but it works. he pulls out further with each thrust, slams into you harder, burying himself deeply inside of your wet pussy. “yeah, you have.” the sound of skin slapping together starts to echo around the room with the change in his pace, interrupted only by his throaty groans and your soft moans and, god, isn’t it awkward that there are guards outside? that this is what they’re subjected to hear every day, until you’re—

“you wanted— a baby with me,” you say, not as a question, and through the deep haze your mind is slipping into.

“wanted to do this. wanted to fuck a baby into you. see you full of me,” he answers, and it must get him going, the image he paints for the both of you, because he speeds up further, drives deeper, and you can feel the head of his cock pushing against your cervix, making you groan aloud into his skin. “only at night, when it was just me, and i wished you were there, keeping me company. any time else, i could pretend like it was fine.”

you laugh softly, shaking your head, and then he’s laughing too. “fucked up, schoolboy-manticore crush, huh?” his head falls further into the crook of your neck, pressing gentle kisses to your collarbone. “only this place could get me daydreaming about filling this pussy up with my cum. could get me - wanting to fuck up our whole friendship, just to hear those pretty sounds of yours.”

your face flushes at the filthy words, even as it only stirs your arousal further along. you can feel it in the base of your spine, and suddenly, by their own volition, your hips are pressing against his in tandem, meeting each of his thrusts inside of you. he groans, the sound hot and vibrating on the sensitive skin of your neck.

“look at me, will ya, pretty thing?” he asks, nose nudging your chin up to meet his eyes. blackened pupils swallow up the jade green of his eyes. your lips part as the pleasure builds and builds, each of your noises crescendoing in pace with alec’s relentless thrusts. “god, nelly—”

you tip your head up a little more, enough to catch his mouth in a warm kiss. “it’s okay,” you say against the soft pink of his lips; your turn to comfort him, even if that’s the last thing he probably needs.

“yeah,” he mumbles on your mouth, stealing a fervent amount of quick kisses. it might as well be a million right then, with the way you can’t clear your head enough to count.”s’all okay. more than okay. always okay with you.”

“you don’t even know—” you choke out, interrupted by the desperate moans falling from your lips, free hand coming to hold onto his side and keep him deep, deep, deep. “don’t even know what you’re saying,” you manage to laugh.

“no,” alec laughs too, letting go of your hand and moving it and his other one to hold onto your thighs again. “no i don’t. lift this one up for me, yeah?”

you uncurl your bent knee and rest it across the length of his body, and the new angle only makes it that much more intense. “m’not gonna last much longer.”

alec is a nervous laugher. he can’t seem to stop while he thrusts into you. your defense mechanism is panic, his is undiluted joy. you hope it never changes about him. “thank fuck.” he turns his head to press a soft kiss to your ankle. “‘ve been hanging on by a fuckin’ thread.”

“seriously?” you cackle. “alec.”

it’s sweet, really, how even when your entire dynamic flipped on its head, neither of you changed. just like you’d promised. you’re still laughing in the heat of the moment together, still teasing each other in every possible way you could. “told you ‘ve been thinkin’ about this,” he grumbles in his defense, the little pout on his flushed face only pulling you closer and closer into your release’s tight grips, “can’t even blame m—”

“oh, fuck—” you can’t blame him, because you never gave him the time to pitch his argument fully, cutting him off. each breath you draw in is strained, in time with the pounding he’s giving to your clenching pussy. “oh, fuck, alec—”

“hey, language, pretty thing, there’s—” one last thrust, harder than the others, his hips stuttering their movements as he pushes out a shaky exhale into your shoulder. your head falls back into the mattress, dug into the springs as you buck into him, his cock against your cervix as he spills his cum inside of you. the feel of him twitching inside of you, of the warmth seeping from your fluttering walls and warm down your spread legs, reducing you to a muddled mess of pleasure in his arms. unintelligible words on your tongue, pleads or his name or something, you don’t even know, don’t even know what you were trying to say.

alec brushes his fingers across your forehead, pushing the sweaty hairs off of your skin. “was gonna tell you to watch your mouth, but i’m pretty sure you just swore me up and down in three different languages at once.”

your limbs feel boneless, but you do manage to swat at his bare chest, heated skin on heated skin. “shut up.”

“nah.” he scoops you into his arms, not yet having pulled out of you, as he cradles you to his chest. “we’re just gettin’ started, aren’t we?”

the answer is that one man can give a million kisses, and it doesn't take a lifetime — just a director's order and a dream.

tags, @jasvtsc @deanswidow @ostaramoon @angelblqde @depressionbarbie2023

@poughkeepsie99 @chi-raz @beausling @artyandink @figthoughts

#──★ dahlia's jrnl #──★ alec & nelly #divider by adornedwithlight #dark angel #alec mcdowell #jensen ackles #jensen fucking ackles #jensen ackles smut #young jensen ackles #dark angel imagine #dark angel one shot #dark angel fic #alec mcdowell imagine #alec mcdowell one shot #alec mcdowell smut #alec mcdowell x reader #alec mcdowell x you

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