#alex turner x her?

[vanillacoke25]

me everytime i remember MILES KANE and LANA DEL REY have collabed and their song is absolutely fucking amazing and a lot of people’s favourite

[your-local-chaotic-cryptid]

Thinking of my criminal case x beastars au bc im abnormal and love researching both animals and CC (partly also why I’m replaying The Conspiracy out of all of the CC games).

Some of ideas have been great and helped me pick out some of the characters I’m stuck on (Joe, Christian, and partly for Rozetta; will go into more depth if asked), but also some are just fun. Just had the idea of “cat-boy somehow lands a lion-girl, has a kid, and then vanishes for most of the lore.”

[captainwans]

── BUZZFEED THIRST TWEETS. ( featuring sebastian stan, anthony mackie. )

▹ pairing: sebastian stan, anthony mackie x husband!alex turner and fem!actress reader.

▹ summary: what could be a more unhinged and unserious thirst tweets episode with this trio?

▹ warning: vulgar language, mentions of profanities, swearing—but mostly harmless and a good laugh! just pure chaos!

marvel masterlist!

arabella series!

“I’M ACTUALLY SO SCARED TO READ THESE.” [Y/N] admitted to the crew members, eyes painted with slight worry as she was sandwiched between Sebastian Stan and Anthony Mackie. It was yet another movie promotion for the Avengers Infinity War and the actress was finally reunited with her two favorite co-stars, starring in a new episode of Buzzfeed Thirst Tweets.

Sebastian let out a nervous chuckle, agreeing with her. “Gosh, I already regret this.” he sighed, shaking his head as he crossed his arms. He glanced at Anthony, who was holding the blue bucket of thirst tweets from the fans.

Anthony wiggled his eyebrows at the camera, “This is gonna be good.” he said in a serious tone, making [Y/N] quietly giggle, giving the camera a look before watching Anthony reading the first tweet.

“So, this is what we love to do on a Saturday…reading thirst tweet,” Sebastian told the camera, turning his head to his co-stars as Anthony pulled out the first tweet.

Anthony smirked, “On [Y/N]’s comfortable couch!” Sebastian and [Y/N] shake their heads with another laugh. “Get on with it, Mackie!”

Anthony cleared his throat, reading the tweet, “[Y/N] could literally run me over with a tank and I’d say, thank you.” 

The actress burst out laughing, shoulders shaking while Sebastian nodded his head in agreement. “I mean, I’d apologize first, but, I-I appreciate the dedication,” she said to the camera, a small laugh escaping from her lips. 

Sebastian chuckled, “No, I think they would actually thank you,” he told her, grabbing his water bottle and taking a small sip. Anthony turned his head to the actress with a grin, “Right, they’d be like ‘Queen, do it again.’”

[Y/N]’s hands roamed around the bucket, hand clasping at another tweet, this time aimed at Sebastian. She smiled before reading, “Sebastian Stan could punch me in the face and I’d still ask him to marry me.” she read, giving the tweet to Sebastian. “Well, they’re not wrong.”

Anthony shakes his head, “This is why sea bass gets away with anything!” he whined, looking at the camera with a scowl, making Sebastian chuckle, “I mean…you don’t know what you like until you try it.” he cheekily said to the camera, making [Y/N] and Anthony squeal with laughter.

Sebastian muttered a small prayer, picking up another tweet. “Anthony Mackie could talk me into anything. Man could say “jump,” and I’d say–” Sebastian stops mid-sentence and bursts out laughing, making the pair prompt him to continue. “Finish the tweet, Seb.” [Y/N] whined, nudging his side with her elbow.

Anthony sighed impatiently, snatching the paper from Sebastian, who was dying of laughter, almost falling off the couch. “Man could say “jump” and I’d say ‘How high, daddy?’” [Y/N] almost spat out her drink, her throat emitting a small cough, making the crew laugh. “Oh my God!” 

Sebastian was still cackling and he had to lean on [Y/N] for support, who was also a mess. Anthony looked at the camera, a smirk forming his handsome features. “I accept this.”

“This is getting out of hand, guys.” [Y/N] scolded, her face morphing into a deep frown at the camera, referring to their fans with a disappointed look.

She handed the bucket to Anthony, who picked up a tweet. “[Y/N] could bench-press me I’d gladly be her gym equipment.” The crew behind the camera completely lost it, and Anthony got up and walked away, while Sebastian gave the camera a horrified look.

Heat flooded over her cheeks as she laughed, her flustered face looking at the camera while picking up the tweet from the floor. “W-What does that even mean?!” She stuttered, laughter bubbling in her throat.

Sebastian snatched the paper from her hands and showed it to the camera, ���It means you need to start charging rent because you’re living in their head rent-free.” he bleated, giving the camera a disapproving look.

“Ok, guys, let’s finish these. We have a few left,” the cameraman said with a chuckle, watching the spectacle in front of him. Anthony came back and sat back down, taking a long sip from his bottle.

[Y/N] picked up a tweet, lips curving upwards. “Anthony Mackie could look at me and I’d get pregnant instantly.” she paused, looking at the camera, “The power,” she said, making Anthony shrug his shoulder with a cocky expression.

“I’ll take that responsibility.” He said, making Sebastian laugh as he picked up a tweet of himself, “Oh God….Bucky Barnes could choke me with his metal arm, and I’d say ‘Harder’” Sebastian read his tweet, immediately standing up and leaving the frame, his voice echoing around the room. “For the love of God!”

Anthony fell down the chair with a loud wheeze while [Y/N] looked concerned, looking around the room and giving the crew members an appalled look. She sighed. “I need therapy after this,” she admitted, putting the bucket on the table.

Sebastian scoffed from off-camera, “No, they need therapy!”

Anthony shook his head, wiping his eyes with his hands before picking up another tweet. “I love this. C’mon, there are still some left,” he said to his co-stars, who exchanged a glance before pulling themselves together.

Anthony gave the next tweet to [Y/N] with a funny look, who looked at the camera with a nervous look. “[Y/N] could step on me and I’d bark.” She read, her chest vibrating from laughter. “Why are you people like this?”

Anthony loudly cackled, his shoulders shaking. Sebastian’s expression turned serious as he looked at the actress, “Woof.” he said, making Anthony laugh harder while [Y/N] pushed him off the couch, screaming with laughter. 

Sebastian chuckled, getting up from the floor while grabbing the bucket. She slapped his hand, still laughing. “S-Stop! I don’t think I can handle this anymore.” she giggled, leaning into Anthony for support.

Sebastian grinned, “Oh, I love this tweet. Alex Turner is the luckiest man alive to get that every damn day. I’d give up my soul to be in his position. That body, that face... I’m sweating just thinking about it." [Y/N] hides her face with her hands, completely flustered while the whole room erupts in laughter and whistles.

Anthony whistled, looking at the person who came into the room. “Speaking of the sun.” he chimed, eyes painted with playfulness as he watched Alex standing at the doorway with a confused look. “What are you guys doing?” he asked the trio as he walked toward them, giving the camera a look.

“Suffering.” [Y/N] answered her husband while fanning herself. 

“Reading thirst tweets. You wanna join, Strumzilla?” Anthony asked him, wiggling his eyebrows at him, making Alex shake his head, deep chuckles emitting from his lips, “No, I–uh, I’m good. I’m just here to pick up my guitar.” he excused, turning to leave, but Sebastian grabbed him by the shirt. 

“Oh, no, Al. You’re in this now,” he told him with a wink, shifting in his seat to make room for Alex to sit. The musician cursed under his breath, reluctantly sitting down.

Anthony gave him a tweet with a funny look, “Read and see what the fans say about your wife,” he jested, making [Y/N] snort, small giggles coming out of her mouth. “Oh gosh, no! He’s not ready for that.”

Alex sighed, adjusting his sunglasses. He licked his lips before reading, “[Y/N] could spit in my coffee, and I’d drink it like it was holy water.” Alex froze, eyes looking at his wife with a disturbed look. 

Anthony and Sebastian shook with laughter, their cackles echoing across the room. “Oh my God!” [Y/N] screams with laughter, slapping her thighs as the whole room died, again. “First of all—” she tried to say, but ended up gasping between giggles, her words lost in a fit of uncontrollable laughter at her husband’s deadpan look.

“That is wild,” Alex exclaimed, gripping the paper and giving the camera crew a genuinely concerned look before giving his wife another look, which made her chuckle with a scowl.

“Why are you looking at me like I wrote it?” she chortled, giggling as she hit his shoulder, making his lips crack a smile. 

The married couple looked at Sebastian and Anthony, who were still howling with laughter. The camera panned to the duo and back to Alex and [Y/N], who looked at them with a chuckle. “Are you guys okay?” Alex asked, watching them regaining their composure. 

“Oh, man. This is the best day of my life.” Anthony chimed, clearing his throat. He gave the camera a look, “Did we finish all of the tweets?” he asked a crew member, who shrugged in response asking if there was any more left.

Sebastian’s hand roamed around the blue bucket, eyes sparking as he picked up the last tweet. He read the paper, a wide grin reaching his handsome features.

He gave it to Alex, who looked at him, dumbfounded. “What a better way to finish this episode,” Sebastian said to the camera, making [Y/N] inch closer to her husband, reading the tweet.

“I already know my tweets are a nightmare,” Alex mumbled, but enough for the whole room to hear as they laughed. He almost choked on air, eyebrows furrowed as he read the tweet loudly. “If I ever get reincarnated, I wanna come back as a chair so Alex Turner can sit on me.” 

[Y/N] laughed, hitting him in the chest. “Honestly, that’s something I would write,” she admitted, making Alex shake his head with a laugh.

Anthony laughed and looked at the camera, “Y’all are nasty!” he turned to Alex, grabbing his shoulder, “Your fans are just as bad as ours.” 💬 … Comments:

@/fanaticforfame: lmao alex looks so disgusted by the thirst tweets 

@/starryobsessed23: nobody mentions the fact that seb calls alex for al MY HEART

@/buckysoldiers: anthony calling alex strumzilla got to be the funniest thing ever

@/turnerflower: ok but alex interacting with the marvel cast was not something that i needed so badly

@/lovelyyn85: they're so unapologetically unhinged and unserious i love them so much

@/arctic-lovers: marvel and arctic monkeys fans unite!

@/scarletswidow: we need a part two with alex!!!!

[glassmarine]

lost in translation

You meet a man in a bar, in a foreign city neither of you belong to. MDNI!

ship: alex turner x reader, alex turner x you, bar hook-up, implied age gap

warnings: unsafe and drunken sex practices

word count: 6818

note: this was super self-indulgent (tokyo girl here)

“I don’t think this place is particularly great if you’re looking for a deep connection.” This is what you say when someone brings up dating in Tokyo. You’ve been here a while on exchange now, exploring the city as newcomers are wont to do and on a rainy Friday night, you’re in a new bar, surprised by how crowded it is with people you can speak proper English to. Not that you have any trouble with anyone else, but it’s refreshing being able to speak without slowing down your pronunciation or repeating a word or having to resort to your weak Japanese. “Tokyo is like, ever-expanding. I like it. But it’s not great, you know, for connections or something.”

You nurse your drink, taking a sip from it. You’re surrounded by a few people older than you, who vaguely talked about being here for work. You can see their rough hands, the band tees, the worn shoes. Concert or something? you had asked, and they laughed, relaxing at your unsurprised expression, perhaps pleased that you had not immediately started asking when, what, or who.

Truthfully, you’re not incredibly curious. You just want a slow night. You didn’t have any class today, and you had spent last night partying to celebrate the end of your midterms. Now, you’re still slightly hungover as you drift through this little bar in a small alley somewhere in Tokyo, but you’re not really here to drink.

The warmth inside slowly begins to grow oppressive as you engage in mild conversation, alcohol hot in your throat and stomach. The ice in your drink is melting, watering down the sweet liquor. You swirl it in your glass and take the straw out, knocking back the drink.

“I’m going to go for a cigarette,” you say to the woman you’re speaking to, and pat your pockets for your pack and lighter.

“Oh, I don’t smoke.”

You glance around the room. It smells like cigarettes. You smile at her wryly and say, “You’re in bad company, then. See you in a sec.”

It’s not a promise to return to the conversation, but it’s only polite. You set your drink down, thanking the bartender and you walk out to stand under the awning. There’s someone else there, patting their pockets, too.

You frown as you dig through your coat, and try and pat down your pants until you remember you’re wearing one of your skirts with no pockets. You only find an empty pack of Seven Stars. 

“Could I have one of those?” 

You’re startled by the slightly slurred request from the man standing on the far side of the awning. He’s English, you notice. 

“If I had one at all,” you reply, and turn the packet upside down, shaking it. You stick your hand out and feel the rain. It’s not bad. You saw a convenience store a little down the road. “I’m gonna go get a pack, I think.”

The man walks up to you. “I’ll come with.”

“I’m glad you weren’t expecting me to give you one after I got back from the supply run alone.”

He shrugs, languid and loose. “You seem like a ray of sunshine.” He’s very handsome, you realise, with a nice nose and large, intense eyes, the colour of chocolate in the focused lighting under the awning. 

You smile at his comment. “Aren’t I? Come on.”

You pull your coat up over your head and begin walking in the direction of the convenience store, the only sound coming down the street the distant noise from the main road, your boots clicking on the wet pavement, and the rain coming down gently.

“I’m Alex, by the way,” the man says. Alex says. You commit his name to memory. “This th’part where you give me your name.”

You introduce yourself, slowing down to keep up with his tipsy–or maybe drunken–pace. “Are you with the rest of the party in the bar?”

“Yeah,” he says. “I work with them.”

He looks at you in a simultaneously intense and lazy way, as if he’s figuring out a new problem, the likes of which he already knows what to expect. There’s a naked feeling that comes with this, like he knows what he’s seeing.

“Will you be here very long?” you ask curiously. 

He raises a brow. “Need me for very long, love?”

That startles a laugh out of you and you blush, ever so slightly. “No! I mean–sorry, it’s kind of a thing you ask other foreigners. How long they’ve been here, how long they’ll be here for. This place is kinda… transitory, I guess.”

“Just here for a little while, then Osaka,” he says, answering your question, now his unspoken question clear in the air.

“I study here,” you tell him. “On exchange. I do, um, astrophysics. I go to uni in…”

“England?”

“How’d you know?” you ask suspiciously.

“You said uni.”

“I could be going to uni in Scotland. How Anglocentric of you.”

He shakes his head. “Real big words you’re shooting out there, darlin’.”

“Sorry,” you say, the slightest hint of humorous snark in your voice. “I’ll stop, you do need to keep up.”

Alex laughs. It surprises you, how warm it sounds as you go down the cool, dark street. The air is sticky with humidity, but it feels much lighter when he laughs. 

“You’re a cruel one,” he jokes. “Just the kind of girl I sing about.”

“You sing?” Now that you ask, you can see it in the way he carries himself despite his clear introversion–you can see the confidence and the charm, and when you make eye contact, you realise he knows you see it now.

“Here an’ there.”

A cyclist zips down the street behind you, racing the rain and you jump, shocked by how close he had seemed as he sped on. “Jesus.”

“Yeah.” Alex reaches out and you feel his hand on your shoulder, guiding you to the inner side of the road, and then his hand doesn’t leave. Maybe he actually is drunk. “Maybe don’t walk down th’middle right there, love.”

“I thought I’d hear him,” you grumble slightly. “They’re evil, the bloody bikers here. They cycle on the fucking pavement.”

“That’s your sign to start walking in the middle of the street?” 

You look up at Alex. “You’re a cruel one.”

He laughs again, and you finally see the dim glow of the convenience store a little way down the street. He makes a sound of realisation.

“Yeah, I thought it’d be farther,” you say, brow furrowing.

“I don’t know about you, but there’s somethin’ to be said about how everything feels closer at night.”

“That sounds incorrect,” you say. “But you’re a man with no fear of the darkness.”

He shrugs. “I spook easily. It’s closer when you start running.”

You can’t help your giggle at this admission. “Right,” you say, approaching the convenience store and shaking rain off your damp coat. “I’m so hungry. I need a cigarette so bad.”

The fluorescent lighting stings your eyes a little but you head to the counter and ask for a pack of Seven Stars before turning to Alex. “Which one?”

He examines the line-up behind the till. “Whichever you’re gettin’ darlin’, and… Reds,” he says decisively. 

You ask for those, too, and pull your wallet out, but Alex stops you with a hand on your arm as he pulls out a literal fistful of coins. You start laughing. “Oh my god. Why do you have so many?”

“The lads dumped them on me,” he grumbles, and pays for the cigarettes, cutting his coin balance in half. “Ah. Better.”

“Much,” you agree, giggling. “Come on. I can’t stand to see you in this lighting.”

He follows you as you walk out back into the darkness, rain still falling but gentler now. You don’t mind getting drizzled on for a short walk. It’s warm in the bar, anyway.

“You prefer me in the dark?” Alex says lowly, tone light as he nudges your arm with his elbow. 

You blush, letting out another laugh. “Jesus Christ, Alex. Take me out to dinner, first,” you joke. You open up a pack and pull out the lucky cig and put it back in before taking one out. Next to you, Alex opens up his pack of Reds and does the same. You reach into your pocket automatically, expecting to find your lighter, but your hand closes around air and you groan.

“What?”

“Lighter,” you bemoan, turning around.

“Wait,” Alex says, and pulls a really nice, silver one out of his pocket. He looks up at the dark, cloudy sky, and pulls you into an alcove, a locked-up door with the tiniest awning in the world, and he ends up gently pushing you against the wall. “One sec…”

You’re no longer getting drizzled on, but you’re close enough to feel the raindrops on his coat. You swallow nervously. You’re not put off by his proximity, but…

He places his cigarette between his lips, then lights it. His face is bright in the warm glow, his eyes glowing like amber and you’re struck by how handsome he is–and infuriatingly, your face warms, heart beginning to pound harder.

“Wow,” you say, your cigarette between your bared teeth. “Thanks a million, Alex.”

He leans in. If it were not for the cigarettes, you think he’d kiss you. He touches the tip of his cigarette to yours and you remember to breathe, inhaling deeply as your cig sparks to life gently. Your face is unbelievably hot and you’re deeply grateful for the darkness.

“I wouldn’t leave you wanting, now would I, love?”

You roll your eyes. “Evidently not.” You say this with a smile nonetheless.

“We should finish this here,” he says suddenly. “It’ll go out otherwise.”

“Fair enough,” you reply, and take a deep, calming drag. Your limbs loosen almost deliciously and you can’t help the low, dramatic moan you let out as you exhale. “This is addicting.”

“You don’t smoke often?” Alex’s voice is soft and low, the distinct timbre distracting you. 

“I mean, no, but I am just stating the obvious.”

He offers you his cigarette. “Try this.”

You wrinkle your nose. You tend to avoid the Reds. You like your Seven Stars just fine… but his posture is inviting. You reach up to take it from his hands, but he tuts and you flush before realising and you place your face in his open palm, taking the cigarette between your lips and inhaling deeply.

His thumb brushes your cheek. You feel hot when he does that, your chest tightening with a strange want for more. But you have self-control. You look up at him through your lashes and smile as you take another drag.

“Like it, hm?”

You pull back slowly and his thumb brushes your cheek again. Your fingers tighten around your forgotten cigarette, threatening to crush it. Your heart is pounding in your ears, from the hangover, the alcohol, the nicotine, Alex. 

“It’s… passable,” you murmur. 

“Ah. Give me yours.” His eyes flick to your hand, clenched in a fist and crushing your cigarette ever so slightly. He takes your wrist and your palm falls open as he lowers his head, and he uses you almost as a cigarette holder. You can feel his stubble on your hand and his lips on your fingers.

Mother of god almighty.

He takes a drag, then pulls out to exhale, and comes back in for one more, lips closer to your skin now, properly pressing against your palm.

“I think you like that,” you joke, voice coming out only a little weak, and you clear your throat in an attempt to strengthen it, because smoking makes you hoarse. Right. Smoking.

“I think you did, love,” Alex says with a little smirk as he lowers your hand, but he doesn’t let go of your wrist until you move to take a drag from your own cigarette.

“Don’t be vile.”

“Never have been, never am,” he quips, unbothered by your weak rebuke.

You two finish your cigarettes in oddly comfortable silence, you still against the wall and him half-facing you, half-turned to the road. You put it out, dropping it to your feet and crushing it with the tip of your shoe. There’s hesitation as you move away from the alcove under the awning, and you can’t help but wonder if the strange intimacy you shared there would pass.

Alex puts his cigarette out and places his arm over your shoulders, prompting you to start walking to the bar.

You wonder if he can hear your heart beating as loudly as it is right now. You don’t think you’ve ever been so attracted to someone in a while, and the last time must’ve been right as you started uni and a boy you had liked broke up with you because he was moving away to the mainland.

“Rain’s stopped.”

You look up, your thoughts of kissing him and its consequences sharply interrupted by his comment. “Oh. Yeah. It does that.”

He laughs at your reply, shaking his head. “What a fag does to a girl.”

“Hey,” you complain, nudging his side with your elbow and he laughs harder, jerking away but keeping his arm around your shoulder. “I’m trying. Real hard.”

“Right you are, love.”

“You drive me to drink,” you mutter, smiling.

It doesn’t take long to get back to the bar, and even as you enter, his arm doesn’t leave your shoulders as you order a drink at the counter, and Alex butts in, asking for his own and paying.

“You really didn’t have to.”

“All these bloody coins, darlin’.”

You wait for your drinks and you gratefully take yours, thanking the bartender and sipping on it. It’s heady and sweet, and the alcohol hits you harder than you thought it would. “This is good,” you tell Alex, who is watching you, holding a tumbler of whisky in his free hand.

His other hand squeezes your shoulder.

“Yeah?”

“Very good.” Your eyes fall to the clock on the wall as you glance up over Alex’s shoulder. “I’m going to miss my train home, I think.”

He turns to look. “What time…?”

“In ten minutes,” you say with a sharp sigh. “It’s a fifteen minute walk there. Seven if I sprint.”

Alex looks down at your shoes, then smiles. “Guess you’ll be getting lucky at a hospital tonight?”

You laugh, closing your eyes and pressing your fingers to your temple. “Ughhhh. No. Not tonight. I’ll just…” You glance around the room, then look at him. “I don’t know. All-night karaoke.”

He raises a brow. “I’m not surprised they have that here. I can’t say I’m tempted, though.”

“It’s not half bad, but don’t worry, you’re not invited. Can’t let you upstage me.”

“Stay with me,” he blurts out. This is clearly uncharacteristic for him to do–to be so bold and direct, and it shows on his face when he glances away, slightly embarrassed. “If you haven’t got plans to sing all night.”

“Okay,” you find yourself agreeing. There is a certain peculiarity in this, considering the fact that you have never so easily agreed to a man, albeit without sexual innuendos, propositioning you spend a night with him. But Alex comes across differently, his charm subtle and almost excruciatingly calm, like it’s in his skin rather than a look he puts on. 

You finish your drink. The liquor burns sweetly. 

Alex knocks back his tumbler of whisky as if it was a shot, and you wrinkle your nose. “That’s meant to be savoured. You’re like a uni kid.”

He gives you a look. There's still a little left in his glass. “When in Rome…”

You’re a little clumsier under the influence, a little more comfortable being touched with every sip. “Think I should get another?”

Alex checks his watch. “One for the road.”

Someone tells his–yours too, now–party that their last train is in 15 minutes, and their station is closer. 

Alex orders you two more drinks, and when he lets go of your shoulder to point at the menu, he puts it back on your waist this time, hand warm against your body. You hardly resist, one hand coming up to gently squeeze his wrist before you lean in against him. Someone finds Alex, emerging from one of the more crowded corners.

“Alex,” the man slurs. He has one of the most English faces you’ve ever seen. 

You blink. “Miles Kane.”

“Miles Kane,” Miles repeats. “He’s somewhere a… oi, that’s me.”

“You know him?” Alex asks you, surprised. You had never shown any indication you knew Alex, but you know Miles.

“My best friend thinks you’re really fit,” you tell Miles. “She keeps showing me pictures of you.”

“Now, is your best friend in this room, and is she half as fit as you?” Miles drawls out with a grin. “Because, if so…”

“My best friend is at LSE,” you blurt out, surprised, unable to comment on your best friend’s fitness in surprise.

“LS… Oh, Jesus,” Miles whistles. “You’re young.” He looks at Alex, who you are leaning on, who has his hand on your hip.

You shrug. “And you are…?”

“The cheek of this one, Al!” Miles laughs loudly, and Alex laughs at your question. “Alright, alright, won’t comment on it. No need to give me a crisis, gorgeous.”

“I don’t give anything,” you reply, smiling. 

“Right,” he says, and drunkenly points at you and Alex, up and down. “Right.”

Alex feels your eyes on him. “I bought her cigarettes an’ drinks. I gave her things.”

“As I said. I don't give a thing.”

“Riiiiight,” Miles says, laughing. “Alright, join us, love. Your humour keeps me young.”

But with that, Miles wanders off, leaving you alone with Alex.

“You know him?”

“I guess I know you,” you say. “Alex Turner.” You had never seen him live, but you've heard his songs on the radio a few times. You never thought he'd be particularly attractive to you, but you're also not surprised anymore. 

He gives you a sidelong look as he finishes his whiskey. “Does that matter to you?”

You shrug. “Should it?”

There's a look that flashes in his eyes and he says, with a smile, “No, guess not.”

As it turns out, the Japanese interpreter they had brought along was utterly sloshed. You're not surprised by this either, so you end up telling Alex to tell everyone what to do, because you're hardly going to take charge of a group you're not part of. The two of you end up leading the way, anyway, but you earn no curious looks. 

“The rain is gentler now,” Alex notes as you walk, his hand warm on your hip, skimming the edge of your skirt, lifting the hem of your jacket.

“It’s still sticky.”

“Makes you wanna peel your skin right off,” he muses in a way that doesn’t make that sound creepy at all. Or only a little bit, at worst.

You make it down to the station and he tells you which stop. It's a little while away, and when you sit, he places his head against yours. It's been so long since you've delighted in any kind of intimacy. There was no envy when you saw couples do this on the train, sleeping on each other, waiting for their stop.

Now you might be a little envious after tonight, and you have the slightly nauseous realisation that you might do anything to capture this feeling again. The warmth of his body against yours, his shoulder pressed to your own, his soft breathing you ultimately end up mimicking. The train trembles to a stop.

“Our stop,” you say, words slurring as you realise how much you've had to drink when you get the chance to rest.

Alex mumbles something then rises.

“Stop mumbling.”

He shoots you a look. “Mean. I said ‘okay.’” 

Miles, on his other side, says, “No, he didn't.”

“What did he say?”

Alex shushes Miles drunkenly.

“He said, ‘I like the way you say that.’”

You shake your head and smile. It's a short walk to their hotel, a very nice one. You pile into the elevator in groups, Alex giving one of the security detail a look when they try and have you take the next one. 

“You're too confident for your own good,” you mumble to Alex in the crowded elevator, while everyone is drunkenly chattering in low, slurred voices. 

“Confident about what?” he whispers back. His mouth is warm against your ear.

It’s just the alcohol that’s very, very warm in your body. Right. Just the liquor. 

You and the group file out once you reach one of the uppermost floors and you realise that you have almost forgotten who you’re with. The opulence is dazzling and it makes your eyes burn. You sway, and Alex places his hand on your hip again. “Steady on, love.”

“Aye, captain,” you remark dryly. 

He pulls you towards a door and fishes a keycard out of his pocket, and he nudges you in, following and locking the door behind you with a soft click. The room is dimly lit, a suitcase left open on the floor, a few clothes strewn about on chairs, an acoustic on the coffee table. It’s a mess that room service had left behind–his bed is immaculately done up. Your mouth goes dry. Pillows have never looked so inviting before.

“It’s a Japanese thing to take your shoes off,” Alex murmurs from behind you, the hand on your hip casual yet persistent. What an oxymoron that is, but you can’t describe it any other way; his fingers are soft, easily shaken off, but they stay even as he kicks his shoes away, and he doesn’t bother with politely nudging them to the side.

You bend down to remove your boots and you sway even worse than before. 

“You’re like a stalk of wheat in th’breeze.”

“Don’t distract me,” you reply, focused on the laces of your boots. Then Alex casts a shadow in the dim lights as he bends down, deftly undoing the knot and taking your shoes off for you, breathing out a slow, drunken and sighing laugh.

You find that his hand is on your ankle and you look into his eyes—he looks up, he looks beautiful on his knees–and he looks hungry. Starved.

You’re not the type to sleep with strangers. Not with rockstars, especially. Those are the last thoughts in your head before you make the decision to lean down and kiss him. What a good thing that you do–his mouth is soft and warm as you press your mouth to his, pliant and open and waiting. Eager, if there’s anything to say about how his grip tightens around your ankle and his free hand comes up to your cheek and his fingers snake their way into your hair. You sigh into the kiss when he does that–he takes it as the opportunity to slip his tongue in your mouth. Tentative at first, then exploratory. Your head spins at the taste of his mouth, all liquor and Alex at once.

He only draws back to stand up, but in the brief moment you glimpse his face before he is on you again, you see the way he looks at you, like you are a struck match. You can smell him when he kisses you standing now: cigarettes, rain, leather. His hands are grasping your waist, your coat bunching around his fingers as he pulls it off you with what seems to be his oxymoronic attitude about these things: gentle, hurried. Desperate, steady.

“I don’t do this often,” you murmur when you two come apart for a little air. “Or–at all.”

Alex kisses you, then the corner of your mouth, your cheek, your jaw, your ear. “Good.”

It’s very tense silence for a moment when he says that, and then it’s a rush and his mouth is on your neck, sure to leave marks, and you slip your hands into his jacket and Alex takes it off, discarding it on the floor and his mouth–his talented, talented mouth is still on your neck, moving from one spot to another and his warm hands pull your tucked sweater out of your skirt; so many things are happening at once and you can feel him want so many things at once as he slips his hands up your top and his fingers tremble when your cold palms press against the sliver of skin where his t-shirt rides up as he pushes you against the wall, and he is slipping this thigh between your knees and you gasp–good god, you are kissing again, and the heat of his body comes in waves as he kisses you and you think your knees are about to give out and it hasn’t even been three minutes since you stepped into his hotel room and the bed is so close and so far away.

Your hand reaches up for his arms and you can feel the flex of muscle and the warmth of his skin and you don't think you've ever been so hungry before, paralysed with want as his hands reach for your bra—you almost thought he'd be deft with it, with those lovely hands but he's clumsy and he scrabbles for the hooks on either side in a frustrated rush that ultimately has you lifting your top off your head and you hear the hiss of his breath as his open, hot mouth finds the top of your breast while you are in the midst of stripping and he is in the midst of ripping your bra off.

“There,” you say, voice coming out in a hissing sigh as the hand that is not clutching your hip and pulling you into him finds your nipple as his tongue laves at the edges of the peak of the breast he had kissed. “Right—fuck—there.”

His thigh is nudging your weak, ineffective legs apart and you suck in a sharp breath as it presses against that spot, right there, there, there—

“You taste good,” Alex says. What an understatement for his urgency—his teeth scrape and you arch your back with a silent gasp. 

His fingers dig into your waist, nudging your skirt down and you reach for his belt, unbuckling it with shaking hands and he groans against your chest as you undo his jeans, loosening up the tightness and you can feel his cock better now, burning hot through his boxers into the side of your mons and you cannot help the gasping, breathless sigh you release that you didn't know you were holding when he kissed you, and now he kisses you again—short but deep and nearly careless with urgency. Then, somehow, when he pulls away to grind closer, the space between your bodies tighter, you manage to place your mouth on the soft skin of his neck and the heat of his skin is addictive, and the realisation that he's a real person who can feel all of this too is quite nearly too much until he pulls you away from the wall and walks you backwards into the bed, landing the two of you in a messy, hungry heap atop it.

“Ow, fuck—my cock—”

“Jesus fuck, did you have to be so rough—Alex,” you hear yourself say, pleading and demanding and breathless. “Alex.”

“I like it when you say my name,” he says, looking up at you. “Not that Jesus bloke.”

This startles a laugh out of you and he takes it as the opportunity to pounce, his lips sharp on yours, heady waves of pleasure crashing into your body as he reaches for the back of your skirt in an attempt to get it off—he’s successful and you can feel his excitement at that when he kisses you harder, presses his cock insistently into your thigh. Your hands come up to tangle through his hair and he groans into your mouth when your grip tightens, and you decide that you really, really like that sound.

“If I can't get your fuckin’ stockings off, love,” Alex slurs, the warning clearly on the tip of his tongue the way he says it with such sharp urgency, “I’m gonna rip them off.”

“Don't,” you gasp as his mouth finds your neck again and you squirm, pushing your hips up into his in such a way that has him shuddering and with a sudden need for air, “I like these.”

“Get you new ones,” he practically growls against your collarbone.

“I got these in London—”

“Better.” And rip your stockings he does, cleanly from the bottom up and he rips them off until you are finally, finally left in your panties and he pulls back, his eyes nearly black in the lighting and his pupils blown-out. His gaze is hungry, eating one glance of you at a time, almost in slivers as his eyes drag down torturously slow, from the top of your head to the tips of your toes. “Much better.”

“Fuck me,” you tell him, heart hammering in your chest. You sit up and your fingers find his hips, playing with the waistband of his boxers. You can see him closing his eyes, swaying for a second, and then he looks at you like a piece of meat dangling in front of a starved animal when you snap his waistband against his hips for his attention. “Are you gonna fuck me?”

“N… No, not yet. I want you to—unless there's lube—” 

You ghost your mouth over the hard tent in his boxers. “You were saying?” You breathe out, hot and soft over his bulge and his hands find your head, both coming down the side but one placing itself under your chin and the other on the side of your head.

“Fuck.”

“I know,” you say, and you're pulling his boxers off, freeing his painfully hard cock and admiring the reddened, leaking tip, glossy with pre-cum. Your tongue darts out for a lick, his hand finds its way into your hair and tightens there, almost like a warning. You take him in, a bit at a time. First his tip, and then all the way down.

Alex gasps, properly gasps, his hips jerking his cock deeper and nudging your throat. You choke but hold in place, looking up at him through your lashes, eyes glittering and shining with want.

“Good,” he breathes, flushed and hungry.

Your tongue traces the underside of his heavy cock, the tip of your tongue dragging against the sensitive red tip–silky and hot around the red tip and then you swallow him back down again and Alex hisses your name, his hips thrusting into your mouth with barely controlled restraint, one hand coming up to clasp his opposite shoulder and the lower half of his face tucking into his elbow–distantly, you wonder if he’s going to sneeze, god forbid, then in the darkness you make out the red flush of his cheeks and he’s embarrassed, god, he’s embarrassed–

You suck in earnest, taking him in deep and when your throat tightens as you swallow around him, his cock jumps in your mouth, thrusting into the very back of your throat and you choke again and refuse to break your gaze–then Alex makes a decision, one hand grasping the back of your neck, the other on the side of your head. He fucks your mouth, his thumb trembling with restraint as it pads at your cheek, pressing under your glassy, hungry eyes.

Mouth open wide, cheeks hollowed as you suck, bright, teary, starving eyes shining with want—Alex pulls back from you suddenly with a shuddering gasp. “Oh, love, I can’t—not yet—”

You kiss the tip of his cock, tongue darting out like a kitten.

Alex moans, honest-to-god moans all low and deep and lifts your chin away from his heavy, leaking cock. “Stop. I don't—I still want to fuck you.”

You smile, razor sharp but softened by intoxication. Whether it's alcohol or his cock in your mouth, it's hard to tell. Alex looks at your grin and thinks of papercuts.

He swallows, throat bobbing, then he bends down to kiss you, pushing you back down onto the bed and finding your fingers. You think he's just gonna hold your hand and then he is clasping your wrist and pressing it firmly into the bed as his mouth closes on a nipple again. You arch your back, gasping as you push your breast into his mouth and he pushes back, teeth scraping on your soft skin, biting back a gasp when you feel his cock, wet with your spit pressing hard and insistently against the inside of your thigh.

His fingers dig into the soft skin of your thigh, slipping your panties down so quickly you would say you barely noticed if it hadn’t been for his sharp inhale as he pressed his fingers against your cunt, just the outside.

“You’re so fucking wet,” he says, words strained with hunger, drawn out by liquor. “God, you’re so fuckin’ wet…”

“I prefer it when you say my name–ah!” you gasp as he spreads your lips apart, searching for your clit with the rough pad of his thumb. “Better than that God bloke.”

“You’re mouthy,” he observes, and draws circles with his thumb, a smug, lazy grin forming on his face as your hips jerk in response.

“Just like you,” you shoot back, “Just like–fuck, fuck, fuck, that’s good–”

“Just like you,” Alex repeats, and replaces his thumb with his mouth, tongue flat against your clit, slickly flicking and dragging against your skin. He groans at the taste of you. It reverberates through your body, like his laugh when your hips jerk up involuntarily. He clicks his tongue. “Impatient.”

His hand abandons your wrist to loop around your thighs, one on each side, holding you wide open—exposed, so exposed and naked—and mercifully, his eyes are closed as he eats you out like a starving man, all lips and tongue and teeth scraping at your skin hungrily. And Alex moans when you arch into him, pushing your cunt further against his face, his nose digging into your pubic bone—you moan when he moans, begging yes, Alex, right there, please and he only groans and drunkenly laughs at your pleading and he doesn't stop his steady pace, it’s almost punishing how well he does this, and the shockwaves of pleasure turn into a low vibrational hum that echoes from the top of your head to the tips of your toes like standing too close to speakers at a concert, your body too hot, desperate to be pressed against another body, his body to be perfectly precise—and his mouth is perfect precision when he flicks his tongue.

“Good, yeah, cum for me, love. You look so pretty when you’re about to cum—”

You do, back arching, and you feel your teeth click on your knuckles as you stupidly try to hold a cry down but it doesn't work and Alex is laughing against your cunt, not mockingly but with far too much smugness for a man that got too shy to look at you while you blew him. 

Your head is pounding with pleasure, chest tight and breathing stuttering in time with your heart threatening to jump right out of your chest. You look at him, dazed and drunk, and say, “You gonna fuck me now?”

Alex is still laughing—giggling, really. “Yeah. Yeah, I will…” Then as he trails off he hauls your legs to side off his body as he lifts your hips up to match him kneeling on the bed. 

You can’t see what he’s doing, what his eyes are now trained on, but you can feel it–his cock slickly and delicately tracing your seam. And you can see Alex, the trembling in his shoulders, the restrained breaths as he teases himself almost as much he’s teasing you, the way he is biting his lip, brow furrowed with restraint. You see his throat bob as he swallows thickly, silently, the entire motion remaining with his body.

There’s a plea in the back of your throat, your body hot and dizzy, and you want him to just fucking do it, right now, right now, right now–but when his name exits your mouth, it’s coaxing. Warm.

“Alex…”

Then he pushes himself in with a low hiss, eyes falling shut. “Fuck,” he says, strained and breathless.

It pulls a soft gasp from you, the way he fills you, and he shifts forward almost gingerly, leaning forward and bending over you until you are nearly nose to nose and he grasps one of your wandering hands again, fingers closing around your wrist as he pins it to the bed, his weight sinking you into the mattress; your other hand is free to move, it finds the back of his head, his nape, his back and making a map out of his body.

Alex kisses you once, twice, and then he moves. There’s a certain drunk clumsiness to him now, not missing any spots but he’s careless with a steady, building force and your chest is heaving as you are jolted with each sharp thrust of his hips. Right there, you think, holding back a moan, but you realise you weren’t thinking when he lets out a strangled sound as you feel the pressure building, your body tightening up and around him, and he whispers, “Yeah, there?”

“There,” you gasp. 

There, Alex, there, there, there spills from your mouth with each shift of his hips, his head dipping as he kisses you with a wonderful desperation that makes you gasp his name into his mouth and he groans again as you feel his fingers tremble around your wrist and the heat of his body is everything now, coming off him in a sticky way like the hot Japanese rain, the scent of whiskey and cigarettes and clouds in his hair, but you want his skin to stick to yours, you want the pleasure of it–fuck, Alex, don��t–and he says your name, telling you he won’t stop in shaky breaths as he presses his lips to the corner of your mouth, your cheek, your jaw. His eyelashes flutter and scrunch against your neck.

“Good?” he says into your skin, teeth dragging on your sensitive flesh.

You arch into him, hungry for more, and he keeps moving, he said he wouldn’t stop so he doesn’t and you can feel it, the pleasure drumming in your head and your toes, your ears and your heart and your body tenses as if you’re running one last stretch, then Alex moans, low and sweet into your ear again, like he is feeling all of this too. And you’re already sensitive, already on edge from cumming just now, it’s tantalisingly close, you’re tantalisingly close and you only get closer when you feel his pace grow erratic and nearly harsh, and then his right hand which you had nearly forgotten about marks a firm path up your side and then your breast, tugging at your nipple and you cry out his name. Under him, your body twists with pleasure, raw and convulsing as you cum so hard the whole world seems to tremble with you sharply.

Alex groans. “I’m going to–”

“Not inside,” you gasp.

“Right, right, oh, fuck–” He bears down on his left arm, pinning your hand deeper and almost painfully tight into the sheets as he pulls out hurriedly, hand going down as he strokes himself roughly, head lifted and gaze down as he shudders almost helplessly, moaning as he cums, making a mess all over your stomach, warm and sticky and in a surprising quantity. 

You wish you knew him well enough to let him cum inside, now that you think of it through the last, pounding darts of heat that strikes through your brain from your orgasm.

Alex looks up at you, eyes heavy and satiated. “Good?” he mumbles. He sounds like he ought to be drinking water.

“Good,” you affirm with a trembling breath.

He groans and relaxes, slumping down and letting go of your wrist and utterly mindless of the cum that’s going to be a pain to clean up between your bodies. His face is back in the crook of your neck. You can feel his eyelids fluttering shut, as if he’s trying to stay awake.

“‘m so tired.”

“For good reason,” you murmur, fighting off a yawn. It’s a losing battle, and then Alex yawns against your shoulder.

“Don’ do that.”

You yawn again. “Should clean up. It’s so sticky.”

“Always time to shower in the morning.” 

“Yeah?”

“Yeah,” he says so quietly, and then he goes so quiet, his breaths evening out, that you know for certain that he’s asleep.

You close your eyes. There go your plans to leave on the first train in the morning.

[should-know-better]

Alex Turner, aged 19, said:

“Even the songs that are more personal are done in that observational way because it's not as close to the bone," he explains. "People can't get at me and say, 'Who's that about then?' It's a bit like you're hiding behind something. Sometimes when you write summat and you come to sing it first time in practice, instead of 'I' you put 'he', without even thinking about it. I dunno, it's hard to explain but it's easy to do."

Interesting for a couple of reasons:

a) if it’s easy for him to sing “he” instead of “I,” then it’s reasonable to conclude that it’s easy to sing, “she / her,” instead of “he / him.”

b) He’s been hiding things from the start.

Source: x. The Guardian 29.9.05

[toomuchracket]

it's your birthday (office nerd matty x reader fluff)

this is teeny tiny but very sweet and it's also for my sweet friend @wreckedandpolemic i love you very much!! <3

“these shoes were a mistake.”

matty squeezes your hand, turning to look at you; when he drops a kiss to the side of your head, you feel him smiling against your skin. “trust me, darling, they were not.”

you pout. “but they're hurting me.”

“oh, baby,” your boyfriend leans down to kiss you quickly, hands cupping your jaw even after he pulls away. you smile at him, and his cheeks go your favourite shade of pink. “almost home, yeah? five minutes longer, and then you can just lie down and let me continue to indulge your every whim for the rest of the night, alright?”

“dirty.”

“well, no,” matty blushes even harder - you don't miss the way his cheeks are twitching, though, a smile threatening to break out onto that gorgeous face of his. “not necessarily, i mean - obviously i would never, ever say no to doing sexy stuff with you, not at all, i just meant that i’d also, like, put your favourite films on and make you hot chocolate and give you massages and-”

“matty, sweetheart, breathe,” you bring your index finger to his lips, softly stopping his breathless monologue and bringing him back to earth. “i know what you meant, angel. just couldn't resist the innuendo, that's all,” you clasp your hands behind his neck, heart fluttering at the sight of him all beautiful and moonlit and looking adoringly at you. “you're so good to me, you know? today's been perfect.”

“s'the least i could do, darling,” matty kisses the bridge of your nose. “lovely girls deserve lovely birthdays.”

“god, you're so cute. where on earth did i find you?”

he hums happily, leaning in to kiss you quickly before tucking you under his arm and continuing to walk towards your flat. “it is actually kinda mental that we met at work, isn't it?”

“you think?”

“well, you don't necessarily expect to start a new job and meet the most beautiful woman in the world there,” he drops another kiss onto your head, as natural as breathing; his little casual displays of affection are one of the things you love most about matty. “let alone falling in requited love with her and buying a flat with her and adopting her dog as your own.”

you laugh, leaning in to kiss his neck - chastely, but still positioned strategically enough to make his breath hitch. “you had no choice in that last bit, you know. maggie loves you more than she loves anyone else,” the wind picks up slightly, and you snuggle further into matty to keep the cold away. “she takes after me with that one.”

“and with getting bored during star wars.”

“oh, christ, not this again,” you sigh, sliding your keys from your pocket when you turn onto you and matty’s street. “i wasn't bored, i just knew what was happening afterwards,” you smirk, leaning against the wall of your apartment building while matty takes your keys and unlocks the door. “that was a good birthday, wasn't it?”

“possibly the most rhetorical question ever asked,” matty scoffs, leading you inside and calling the lift down. “second-best you've ever looked, in that outfit.”

you frown. “second-best? what's the best i've ever looked, then?”

matty beams. “right now.”

“oh, you're such a sap,” you groan; internally, though, your heart is aglow and there are butterflies in your stomach and you're pretty sure you can hear alex turner singing baby i'm yours somewhere in the back of your brain. and you know matty knows how you really feel, but you kiss him anyway, just to reiterate it. “but i love you very much.”

“and i love you,” he kisses you back, passionate and perfect, tugging you into the lift and into his arms, murmuring into your ear while he presses the button for your floor. “have you had a good birthday, darling?”

you smile into his shoulder. “the best.”

[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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[gh4uls]

this is hardcore ✧ mark x fem. reader

★ mature content. unprotected p in v, fingering, you’re getting eaten out, don’t know how else i can put it. office sex. age gap but never mentioned. you’re a secretary. i recommend listening to ‘this is hardcore’ by pulp while reading. this is NOT proof read

i’m never writing a smut ever again.

alex ‘mark’ turner x fem. reader

She has been working at the Tranquility Base Hotel (and Casino) for nearly two years now. Her job wasn’t exactly thrilling, bringing coffee to your boss every morning was not exactly phenomenal, but how could she complain?

As well as waking up earlier than she should, just to buy him a coffee, she also recorded everything in every meeting, in her little black notebook, what things were said, and if they were important, she’d highlight them, or she’ll end up drawing a little star beside it if she had lost her highlighter. again. Though, her boss would’ve just bought her more, and if she refused, she’ll never hear the end of it. She’d end up in the filing room for hours if he asked, if he needed numbers on something specific, or just needed another double-check on something, she’d do it.

The job took up her life, but sometimes she didn’t mind. Even when he’d ask her to stay after work, she never refused. He was a different man when it was just the two alone.

Mark was a strict man, ethical, and straight-forward. He didn’t give a fuck if he behaved like a complete asshole. If you were shit at your job, you’re fired, end of story. She’d overhear the other workers bad-mouth him, calling him a tyrant, but she said nothing, because she knew how he truly was—how he was when he was around her. If he thought she stayed too long after work, he’d send her home in a cab that was on his tab. He refused to let her pay for anything. He was a good man, but his ego was too big to ever let it show around anyone that wasn’t her. He thought he’d look weak, and he definitely did not want the people that worked below him to think he was.

He usually works long hours, even when the office emptied, he’d still be rooted to the chair by the next morning; when he did get up, he’d usually leave the office for an hour or two, to check on the hotel.

It was Friday night when she was still in the office during after hours, sitting on his floor, correcting every mistake she could possibly find. He sat by his desk, his legs spread as his fingers twirled his pen, staring at the bright screen of his computer.

She eventually looked up at him, and she clears her throat, which makes him turn his head almost immediately. They had slept together nearly a week ago. He invited her over to his apartment, and one thing led to another, and now things were tense, and she didn’t like that.

“Do you have a problem with me?” She questions, her lips curving into a small frown. He tilts his head to the side, before placing the pen down onto his desk. When he doesn’t speak, she continues. “You barely uttered a word to me the past week.”

He sighs, before he rubs his face, and he stands up, which makes her instinctively stand up as well. “Just had a rough week, darlin’. It’s not you.” He hums as he gently wrapped his fingers around her wrist, twirling her slightly before pushing her against the edge of his desk, “I could never have a problem with you.” He murmurs, his fingers brushing back strand a of hair behind her ear. She could smell the alcohol on his breath, and she sighs. “Mark—“

“Shh, shh..” He sighs, before he leans in, pressing his lips against her jaw, “Do you know how hard it’s been, not being able to touch you like this?” He utters against her skin, his breath hot as he trails down to the first button of her blouse. “I can’t think of anything else but you.”

His fingers trailed up to her blouse, unbuttoning the white shirt achingly slow. She lets out a hitched breath, her eyes fluttering at the feel of his lips on her skin. “Tell me to stop.” He mutters as he eventually unbuttons her blouse, sliding it off her shoulders, which makes her shudder.

She wanted to, but at the same time, she couldn’t. She felt the same way. When she didn’t speak a word, he presses his lips against her collarbone, til it traced down her sternum. “You’re so gorgeous.” He breathes out. Her fingers gripped the desk tightly, and she gulps. His hand moved up to palm her bra, and his lips moved to the top of her breast, kissing and mouthing her sweet skin.

“I want to make you feel good.” He whispers, “Can I?” He looks up at her, and she quickly nods, and it didn’t take him even a second until he was on his knees. His fingers meticulously unzip the sides of her pencil skirt, letting it fall to the floor. He presses soft kisses against her hip, his finger hooking into the waistband of her black, lace panties, pulling it down slightly as he continued to kiss down her leg, and her fingers move into his hair, her grip tight.

His fingers fidget with her panties, and a whimper escapes her, and he smiles, looking up at her. “Never sought you to be such a needy little girl, sweetheart.” He hums, before he eventually slides them down, “Come on, be a good girl and sit down on the chair.” He nods, before he eventually stands up, watching her as she carefully moved to sit down, and he smiles. “Atta’ girl..” He whispers, before kneeling back down, noticing how wet she was, already dripping onto the leather seat. “I haven’t even touched you yet.” He chuckles, his hands moving up to her thighs, pulling them up until they were resting on her shoulders.

His hands find their way to the sides of her stomach, and his head dips down without warning, his nose grazing against her swollen clit, and her thighs squeeze around his head, rolling her head back. “I got you, baby.” He murmurs, before he presses her mouth against her pulsing folds, and she lets out a moan, her grip tightening in his hair. He sucks her labia, his fingers moving to cup her breast underneath her bra, as his tongue twirls around it. His tongue works side to side, before it delves between her folds, and her moans grow louder, her body writhing underneath his mouth. Everytime her thighs clench around his head, her fingers tightening in his hair, or the moan of his name, it strives him to continue.

“Mark, I’m going to cum..” She gasps out.

He continues his semi-aggressive movements, until he pulls away, switching to his fingers as one digit delves between her folds, and she cries out, his thumb moving in circular motions around her clit, and that warm feeling starts to pool in her stomach, and she knew she was getting close.

His finger pumps deep inside of her, curling into that sweet spot of hers, and suddenly she was a goner. She lets out a soft cry as her body shakes as she cums, and his finger slows its thrusts, guiding her through her orgasm, before he eventually pulls out. He licks his fingers clean, before leaning over her as he presses his lips against hers, swallowing her small whimpers. “You want more, don’t you?” He whispers, and she whimpers in response, nodding, before he deepens the kiss, his fingers moving to unbuckle his belt, slipping it off and letting it fall to the floor, already forgotten as he unzips his pants, pulling his pants down. His aching cock was soaking with pre-cum, already staining his boxers, and he pulls her up, guiding her towards the desk, pushing her down until her stomach pressed against his cold desk. “You’re so beautiful.” He whispers, “Especially like this.” He hums, before he slips off his boxers, his girthy, veiny, hardened length springing out. He pumps his dick, letting the pre-cum leak out, and he gently presses the tip against her pulsing hole, “I’ll take it easy on you..” He murmurs, and she can only shake her head, “Mark, please..”

He couldn’t even keep in his lust and desire as he plunges deep inside her, his fingers holding onto her hips, his words long forgotten. He pulls out, teasing her with his tip, before he sinks in again, his thrusts were slow, but eventually sped up. Her moans grew louder as relentlessly assaulted her insides, he could feel her clenching around him and he groans, his thrusts growing deeper. He could feel her molding around him, as if she was made for him, and him only. “Look at you, baby..” He groans, “So tight.. made for me, aren’t you..?” He murmurs, until his fingers moved towards her clit, rubbing circles with her thumb, and her eyes water, the overwhelming sensation hitting her all at once, and she could feel herself chasing her second orgasm. “You’re.. taking.. me.. so.. well..” He pants. “Going to fill you up, sweetheart..”

“If you’ll let me..” And she moans in response, “Yes!” She cried out eagerly.

He eventually hits that sweet spot of hers as he shifts his body, and soon enough, she was coming apart, yet he continued his deep thrusts, bruising her insides as he soon eventually came after her, groaning as he fills her up; her thrusts going sluggish as he continued, trying to keep all of it to stay in.

The room is eventually silent, except for their heavy pants, and he eventually pulls out, his length softening.

“Are you okay?” He breathes out as he cups her cheek, making her look at him, and she nods, “I’m okay.” She smiles tiredly, and his lips curve into a small smile in return.

“I’ll take you home this time.”

[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

[beansnsoup]

Jaelyn's fic recs!

Fluff- 🧡

Smut - 💛

Part One! -> Part Two!

Alastor-

☆ Deer Dolly - Series by @ohproserpine 🧡

☆ for valentines day, i thought i'd buy a gun. By @ohproserpine

synopsis: you make your husband mad on purpose. 🧡💛?

☆ Alastor x Wife!Reader by @altruisticalastor

Summary: Lucifer gets a little too brazen with Alastor's darling wife. Guess the Ruler of Hell would just have to learn a lesson about who you belong to 💛

☆ my wife, my wife, my wife, my wife by @iicarused

synopsis:reader is vox’s ex and he’s not too keen of the separation — you were supposed to come back to him! not run around with his rival and get rid of his only access of looking after you (removing any/all electronics from your life) 🧡?

☆ come back to me by @iicarused

synopsis: you’re getting tired of the radio demon (part ii) 🧡?

☆ alastor + cunnilingus by @vmpyria 💛

☆ heaven knows your name by @iicarused

synopsis: heartaches after yearning for each other after decades of being apart 🧡

☆ alastor x married!reader by @bigfatbimbo 🧡

☆ DANCE WITH THE DEVIL by @popamolly

summary. Amidst the vibrant 1920s in New Orleans, a forbidden love unfolds in the lively jazz-filled atmosphere, evolving from an intoxicating romance to a twisted tale of heartbreak and murder, serving as a reminder to never dance with the devil. (SERIES) 🧡💛

Johnnie Guilbert-

☆ New Set by @corrodedcoffins-blog

summary: Giving boyfriend!Johnnie head scratches after getting new acrylics 🧡

☆ Collab by @teapartyprincess4two

summary: You and Johnnie pretend to date, faking it for so long that it became real. 🧡

☆ Run Your Mouth by @samandcolby-ownme

Prompt: Johnnie and reader get into an argument which leads to make up sex. 💛

☆ vampire!Johnnie x reader by @caeunot

summary- you find out your bf is a vampire 🧡💛?

☆ johnnie guilbert x reader by @caeunot

summary- johnnie writing zombie about you 🧡

☆ You by @sturnsreader 💛

☆ you know i’ll keep you in my locket by @stardustloserdoll 🧡

JSchlatt-

☆ "sit on my face." by @ghostkidabs 💛

☆ Jack & Coke part one by @d444zed 🧡💛?

☆ Jack & Coke part two by @d444zed 💛

☆ Mutual breakup headcanon/oneshot by @ohbabydollie 🧡

☆ Mutual breakup oneshot by @ohbabydollie 💛

Ellie Williams-

☆ no room for the holy spirit by @moncherellie 💛

☆ Roommate Trouble by @justkindalivin

summary: Your roommate Jesse and his girlfriend Dina fuck..a lot. loudly. When you finally get fed up after being woken up by their nightly “activities”, you go to Dina’s dorm for some peace and quiet only to run into her roommate, Ellie. 🧡💛

☆ hands to herself by @elliesbarbie

summary: ellie thinks you look a little too good in that bikini you chose to wear for the annual best friend vacay and can’t keep her hands off you 💛

☆ Getting caught with ellie by @me-and-your-husband 💛

☆ Body Ink by @me-and-your-husband

summary: you tattoo ellie's thigh. it's a bit of a compromising position, and it leads you down an unexpected road. female reader. 🧡💛

Alex Turner-

☆ Pillow Talk by @ohladymoon-blog

summary: what the title says, just pillow talk and soft cuddles after sex. ends in cockwarming. 🧡💛

☆ strawberry lace by @lilmisssweetdreams 🧡💛

☆ Test Drive by @savorypink 💛

Spiderman-

☆ Wingman (Hobie Brown) by @love-bitesx 🧡

☆ Crybaby (Hobie Brown) by @merowkittie 🧡

☆ "Thank You, Mrs. Parker." (Spider Noir) by @sabcandoit

Summary: After your wedding, you and Peter go home and have sex for the first time. 🧡💛

☆ Miss Your Face (TASM! Peter Parker) by @dontsaypetertingle

Summary: When you have to go out of town for work Peter gets lonely and a bit needy. An innocent call home to check on him becomes a lot more intense than originally planned. (Has a pt 2) 💛

☆ Break It In (Tom! Peter Parker) by @simplyparker

Summary: Peter gets his first car, and you want to have some fun 💛

☆ Please, Don't Stop Now by @echos-newlegs

Summary: you are in an established relationship with Peter, and he very much wants baby. 🧡💛

Fred Weasley-

☆ Facetime by @albertdabuttler

summary: !!MODERN AU!! Fred calls you in the middle of the night because he can’t sleep, but you look so pretty and he starts getting a little heated up. (Has 3 parts) 🧡💛

☆ Sweet Sugar Candyman by @keykeep 💛

☆ Sleeping In by @screamingoverfiction 💛

☆ Slipping Through My Fingers by @midnightmoonytales

Summary: Watching his little girl grow up had to one of his favorite things to see, but also one of the saddest. Every pivotal moment of her life flashing through his mind, even to this one now. (Wolfstar!daughter reader) 🧡

☆ Electric Pull by @apparentlytheproblem 🧡

Steve Harrington-

☆ I'll Be The Judge (Ft. Robin x Reader) by @luvfae

summary: steve and robin get into an argument about which one of them can give a girl a better orgasm, you come up with an idea to settle the argument once and for all. 💛

☆ Cowboy Hat Rule by @taintedcigs

summary: helping out mr. harrington in his ranch was supposed to be fun, but steve harrington was an asshole. an absolute pain in your ass that teased you, and you gave him the same energy back, always. so when you unknowingly wear his cowboy hat, he decides to teach you what exactly the cowboy hat rule is. 💛

☆ Marriage Pact by @fantasylandloser

summary: besties that plan to get married 🧡💛

Eddie Roundtree-

☆ Blind Date by @luvfae

Summary: The reader and Eddie get setup on a blind date 🧡💛

☆ Lead Singers Are Overrated by @luvfae

summary: working at the whiskey has it perks and that includes getting railed backstage by a certain bassist in a band. 💛

Extras-

☆ Not In On The Joke (Brian Quinn) by @joe--bro

Summary: The Jokers have to do certain tasks to win in the park, and a certain task given by the rest of the Jokers leads Q to talk to you. 🧡

☆ Flavored Kisses (Xavier Thorpe) by @cosmicpearlz

summary: in which you wear a different flavored chapstick everyday and your boyfriend xavier loves it. 🧡

☆ Babysitting (Judd Birch) by @just-another-author-i-guess

Summary: you and Judd are the designated babysitters for the night. 🧡💛

☆ Don't Fake It (Peter Quill) by @professorrw

Request/Summary: peter starts getting frisky with the reader but shes tired and isn’t really in the mood. He would never pressure her or anything but she wants to make him happy and feels bad saying no, so she does it and fakes her orgasm just to get it over with. Later, he somehow finds out (or knew all along, you decide) that she faked it and of course his ego is bruised and he’s kinda annoyed, but also feels guilty she didn’t tell him how she felt. So the next night, she starts coming onto him and he makes damn sure she never fakes it again. 💛

☆ So Beautiful (Loki Laufeyson) by @lokiisdaddyblog

Summary: Reader is feeling insecure and Loki proves to her that she's perfect. 🧡💛

[tilebytiles]

the bourne identity - a.t.

summary: there’s a barely-maintained social media account named “alex” that only seems to interact with you. you don’t think much of it, and neither does he — not until his cover is blown and his real identity is left bare. warnings: age gap (reader is 20 and alex is 26) a/n: a proper smau ! who's excited ! i am ! pls note that everyone is going to be ooc to some degree, i do not know these people and their dynamics irl. we're all just here to have fun :P

CHARACTERS: 01. alex turner - an accomplished musician, alex enjoys all the normal things in his free time — reading, chatting with friends, watching a uni student's youtube channel. completely normal.

02. y/n l/n - in her first year of uni, y/n decided to start up a youtube channel for shits and grins. now in her second year, the channel is by no means viral, but it does have a sizeable following — including that weird burner account. whose is that?

03. alexa chung - alexa knows she's technically an influencer, but she hates the term and she hardly considers herself famous enough to be influencing anyone. really, she'd never seen herself going down this route, but y/n had convinced her to last year. speaking of … who’s the weirdo in y/n’s comments all the time?

04. matt helders - matt's noticed alex has been acting a little strange lately, but he's yet to get a real answer as to why. he can't focus on that, though — they have an album to write!

05. nicholas o'malley - nick isn't sure what's in the air to make alex so strangely happy. it's only really when he's checking his phone, too. a crush, maybe? not really his business (and aren't they too old for crushes?).

06. jamie cook - it's not that jamie doesn't care about ... whatever it is alex is so enamoured with. to some degree, he, too, is curious. however, with deadlines approaching, he finds there are a million other things to put his brainpower towards than his friend's private life.

NOTES: 01. due to ages being shifted around (i was not about to write a 39 year old man pining after a college student), the timeline of am's album releases has also been changed. in this au, they have only released sias, am, tbhc and are currently working on the car. to make it easier for myself to make sense of, sias released when alex was 19, am when alex was 20 (following the one-year gap between wpsia and fwn irl), then am went on hiatus and tlsp released eycte when he was 22, then am came back with tbhc when he was 24, and now they're working on the car when he's 26. cool? cool. 02. despite having a shorter discography, am are still wildly popular in this universe. 03. obviously this au will have serious moments given that it's an x reader and is centered around romance, but it's also just going to be silly goofy at times. we have fun here! 04. this is my first proper full-length smau in a long while so forgive me for any continuity errors or general missteps.

tags: @saintfrancis-ofassisi / @supernaturalandpain / @not-a-big-slay / @captainwans

[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!”

[maximoffcarter]

You didn't know?

Pairings: Alex Cabot x reader.

Summary: Y/n and Alex have been dating for a while, but no one in the squad knows about it. Right?

A/n: Another beautiful request but this time...Alex Cabot x reader. I gotta admit I have many of these, both for Casey and Alex, and let me tell you...it's comfort. So, if you have any more reader inserts, lemme know. Enjoy and leave your comments, reblog, hearts, whatever you'd like, will be very much appreciated🫶🏻

*not my gif*

If there was something about the SVU squad, was that they all had their backs, no matter what. Either they had some issues, they were attacked, they were at risk, whatever they needed, they were there for each other. But something that they didn’t find odd at all was that they really didn’t talk much about their personal lives. Of course, everyone knew Stabler’s kids and wife, they knew about Fin’s son, Much didn’t actually say much but Stabler knew he had a brother, and Olivia, they knew about her mother that had now passed away. Alexandra Cabot learned a thing about everyone every single day, from the day she joined, she learned to study them and get her own conclusions until proven wrong, that’s the way she got to know people. It was no surprise that Alex was a private person, people knew some things about her but nothing too personal, whatever she did after work, it was for her to know and for the rest to wonder. It was even uncommon to see her in normal clothes, always wearing some fancy brand suit with her perfect hair, so if she had a secret life outside work, no one would ever know.

That’s how, no one in the squad or even the DA’s office knew that Alexandra Cabot had a girlfriend. The Ice Queen had a girlfriend. It wasn’t like she wanted to keep it a secret, it was not, she was happy with her girlfriend, and she loved her. Hell, she was crazy about her, she’d do anything for her, she had fallen hard, and she was happier than ever. But she also knew that if she put it out there that she was dating someone, she would be at risk. They dealt with any type of people every day to the point where they didn’t know how dangerous they could be and what they could be capable of, so that’s why Alex decided to keep it between them. And her girlfriend, y/n, didn’t object. She knew the job, she was close to it since she worked as Melinda’s second in command, so basically, she knew the whole squad, she was seen at the precinct whenever Melinda was busy and asked her to go. So they knew her.

That’s how Alex and y/n met; Melinda was normally the one who took the results to the squad, sometimes directly to Alex whenever she requested a copy to prepare her questions, but they had been stuffed with work and Melinda had sent y/n to take a copy of some exams to Alex. Y/n knew who Alex Cabot was, of course she knew, she had seen her before, and she would’ve lied if she said she hadn’t felt butterflies in her stomach. She was beautiful, y/n was sure that wherever she went, everyone stopped and stared at her, how could they not? But this was the very first time that she was going directly to Alex, to say the least, she was very nervous, she knew she’d definitely make a fool out of herself.

Y/n knocked on her door and cleared her throat. “Ms. Cabot?”

Alex looked up and smiled. “Hi, can I help you?”

“Uh-“ Y/n showed her the folder and smiled a little. “Melinda asked me to bring you a copy of the results from the Turner case?”

“Oh! Yes. I thought she’d come. Come on in.” Alex smiled. “Close the door, please.” Y/n gulped as she closed the door, walking to Alex’s desk and handing her the papers. Alex looked up at her and grinned. “You can sit down, you know?”

Y/n chuckled. “Thanks.”

Alex squinted her eyes as she looked at her, raising her brow. “Can I offer you some water?”

“No, I’m good. Thank you.”

Alex nodded and started reading the results. “Seems like everything I need is here.” She looked back at y/n and smiled. “Thank you for bringing them to me.”

“Is there anything else you need me to bring?”

“Not for now. I think these results will be enough.” Alex smiled as she tilted her head. “You’ve been to the precinct, haven’t you?”

Y/n nodded, her heart skipping a beat. Alex has noticed her. “I have. I normally go whenever Melinda is busy, I’m…literally her second hand.” She chuckled.

“You must be good at your job then. I know Melinda can be a little strict.” Alex grinned.

Y/n chuckled softly. “She’s alright. She’s been like my mentor ever since I joined.”

Alex nodded. “Well, I won’t take more of your time. Thank you for bringing me these. I hope I get to see you again.” She grinned.

Y/n stared at her for a moment, feeling her legs trembling. “Would you…maybe…like to get  a coffee some time? Maybe lunch?”

Alex tilted her head as she smiled. “I’d like that.” She grabbed a small card and wrote her personal phone number on the back. She looked up again and handed it to y/n. “Here. Call me when you’re off work and we can meet up somewhere.”

“I sure will.” Y/n smiled softly as she grabbed the card and looked at it for a moment and then back at Alex. “I’ll see you around then.” She stood up and walked to the door.

“See you around, y/n.” Alex smirked as she looked back down at her files.

Y/n stopped on her tracks and looked back at Alex. “You…you know my name.”

Alex looked back at y/n. “I might have asked Melinda about you.” She smiled.

And that’s where the relationship started. Y/n loved to remember how Alex used to play this flirtatious woman, almost hard to get. She would lie if she said she had never heard from people how Alex always rejected them when asked on dates, but y/n had acted out of impulse when asking and she got a yes, and Alex later confessed that she had been watching y/n from afar and she had been wanting to run into her to ask her out but never had the pleasure too. After a month or two of dating, Alex was deeply in love with y/n and the ‘hard to play’ persona was completely gone.

********************

“Melinda, I finished the paperwork from the Lopez case. Do you need anything else?” Y/n smiled softly as she stood beside Melinda.

“No, you’re free to go.” Melinda looked up at her and smiled. She raised her brow as she grinned. “Going somewhere in this fine Friday night?”

Y/n chuckled. “To my couch and my cozy blanket.”

“Oh, c’mon, y/l/n. You’re young, why don’t you go out and get yourself a date? I’m pretty sure you’d get anyone you want.” Melinda said as she went back to the computer.

Y/n smiled. “I don’t really want anyone. I’ve already got what I want.” She patted Melinda’s shoulder. “See you tomorrow.” She grabbed went to grab her stuff before she left.

The moment y/n started working with Melinda, she felt safe and comfortable, something she had been scared about because she first thought she would never be good enough for her job. But Melinda had received her with open arms and had taught her everything she knew so far, and y/n always told her she would forever be grateful. So whenever Melinda made comments like that, she wished so badly she could just tell her that she had everything she always wanted because she was dating Alex, but she knew that their relationship was private and for a good reason. They had been dating for the last 2 years, and the conversation about relationships had never actually showed up until this very moment, which made her realize that for all this time, no one had suspected anything. Maybe because they were not seen together often, or they were not in the same place ever.

Y/n closed the door behind her and placed her coat and bag on the rack beside the door. She made sure the door was locked and she walked to the big living room, finding Alex sitting on the couch with some files on her lap. She loved the times when she came back from work and she found Alex in the apartment already, it wasn’t common since Alex normally always worked until late at night in her office, or if she came back home, she was stuck in her office until early hours. Y/n smiled softly and leaned over the arm of the couch, kissing her cheek softly.

“I’m surprised you’re home.” Y/n whispered softly as she kissed the side of her head.

Alex giggled and threw her head back to look at y/n. “Thought I’d just finish my notes here.”

Y/n chuckled at the angle but leaned down to kiss her lips. “Good. So. Dinner? Do you fancy some chicken and pasta?”

“I’d like that.” Alex smiled. She then moved as y/n walked out of the living room. “Do you need some help?” She put all her files together and then followed y/n into the kitchen.

“You can just sit there and look all pretty as always.” Y/n tilted her head as she smiled.

Alex rolled her eyes playfully. “You’re afraid I’m going to burn down our kitchen?” She went ahead and got some glasses out for wine.

Y/n chuckled and wrapped her arms around Alex’s waist, kissing her shoulder. “I want to spoil you. If you wanna help, you can go ahead and put the pasta to boil while I prepare the chicken.”

Alex turned on her arms to look at y/n and smiled. “Okay, that sounds like a plan.” She pecked her lips softly and then went ahead to get the pasta.

“So…” y/n cleared her throat as she got all the things she needed from the fridge. “Melinda asked me why I wasn’t partying in this fine Friday night.” She walked to the kitchen island and placed all the things there, looking at Alex.

“And what did you say?” Alex turned to look at her with a curious look.

“That my couch and my cozy blanket were waiting for me.” Y/n smirked.

Alex laughed. “Am I the blanket?”

Y/n shrugged. “You could be.” She winked at her.

Alex shook her head as she walked to y/n and kissed her forehead. “We can always tell them, you know?”

“I’m okay with how we are.” Y/n looked at Alex and smiled. “We know the job we do, I know the risks you have with your job. And it’s a relationship for us and no one else. So…” she shrugged. “I don’t mind.”

Alex nodded as she smiled. “Then we just stay as we are.” She leaned in and kissed her lips softly. “You know I love you, right?”

“Mmm…no? I don’t know what you talking about.”

Alex wrapped her arms around her neck as she grinned, pulling y/n for a slow and passionate kiss, y/n’s hands going up to her back to pull her impossibly closer. She tried deepening the kiss, but Alex pulled away, smiling against her lips.

“Say that again?” Alex whispered.

“I love you too.” Y/n smiled as she pulled Alex for another kiss.

********************

“Life without parole.” Alex said as she walked into the room with the squad sitting at their respective desks, everyone looking at Alex.

“We knew you got this, Cabot.” Fin said as he offered a smile.

“Wait, so they didn’t buy the whole crap of being mentally ill?” Elliot grinned.

“His DNA was literally all over her and almost in every part of her apartment. There was no way they’d believe that he was mentally ill when he was fully conscious of what he had done. I defied him and he told me every little thing he did, and he looked proud of it. That was our win.” Alex grinned.

“And we gotta thank or M.E.’s for that.” Olivia said just as Melinda and y/n walked in, looking at everyone with confused looks.

“What happened?” Melinda looked at Alex confused.

“Life without parole. We got the bastard., and Olivia is right. I have to thank you both.” Alex grinned softly as she looked at y/n.

“You’re very much welcome. It wasn’t much. We just needed to test around 15 people to find a match.” Y/n shrugged as she joked.

“Ms. y/l/n complaining here because she was the one who tested them all.”

“Hey, I spent like 2 hrs there, It’s only fair that Ms. Cabot here thanks me.” Y/n smirked as she looked at Alex.

“As I said, thank you for your help.” Alex winked at her, turning to check that no one had noticed.

“Well, well. We also worked here, so, what do y’all say we go for some drinks? Melinda? Y/n? Alex, you promised you’d join us next time so it’s only fair you come with us tonight.” Fin got up and grabbed his coat, looking at the squad.

“I second, Fin. We all have to go.” Munch stood up too and grabbed his coat, putting it on.

Olivia looked at the girls and raised her brow. “C’mon, girls. A drink won’t hurt.”

Y/n looked at Alex who was already looking at her and they gave each other a small nod as if to confirm that they were okay with it. It wasn’t their first time joining the squad for drinks, they’ve done it a bunch of times before, but they always preferred to just go home and have their own little celebration in the comfort of their apartment, but tonight, they thought it was no harm to join them, they knew it would be fun and they could always leave after an hour or so. They all walked to the nearest bar that was not that crowded, and the rounds of drinks started. It was maybe the fact that they were laughing hard that they didn’t notice how many drinks they had so far, or maybe it was just them not minding the number of drinks they’d take that night, it could be anything at this point, but Alex definitely wasn’t counting her drinks.

After 2 hrs, y/n had ordered some water and coffee for them, wanting to sober up a bit -not that she didn’t like tipsy Alex, she actually thought she was really cute, and two or three more drinks and she turned into hot Alex, which…was her personal favorite-. She went ahead and picked up their drinks, putting them in front of Alex who looked at her with a confused face at first.

“So you sober up a bit.”

“Ah, c’mon, y/l/n!” Elliot laughed. “You’re no fun. Let Cabot loosen up a bit. Not like we’re drunk.”

“Yeah, y/n. It’s the first time in so long that Alex actually says yes to coming with us for drinks and you wanna stop her.” Melinda raised her brows as she looked at her.

Y/n rolled her eyes playfully as she looked at them. “I’m just looking out for you, you know?” She then looked at Olivia. “Liv? Back me up here?”

“Oh, c’mon, baby. Another drink or two are not gonna hurt me. I’ll drink the coffee after another drink, promise.”

“That’s what you always say, Lex, and then you whine about having another.” Y/n raised her brow at her as she grinned. But then her grin vanished as she looked around them.

At the same time, it seemed like Alex sobered up enough to realize what they had just said, doing the same as Y/n. “Uh. Maybe I should take my coffee now.” She grabbed the cup and took a sip of it.

Olivia raised her brows as she smirked. “Baby? Lex?”

“Is there something you guys wanna share with the group?” Melinda smirked.

Munch furrowed his brows as he looked at everyone. “Wait, you guys really didn’t know that they were dating? They’ve been dating for the last 2 years. I thought you guys were detectives.”

Everyone turned to look at Munch with surprised looks, Alex and y/n’s jaws dropped as they stared at Munch. They were so sure they had been careful enough to keep it private, but it seemed like they had failed.

“How did you know?” Y/n finally said after like 2 minutes of silence.

Munch huffed a chuckle. “If you guys wanted to keep it private, you should’ve avoided standing in front of the precinct and kissing.”

Alex laughed as she shook her head. “Guess it’s out now.” She looked at y/n and shrugged. “Told you sooner or later they’d find out.”

“I mean, Munch is not wrong. You are all detectives and couldn’t figure it out?” Y/n shook her head. “You should be ashamed of yourselves.”

“You gotta be kidding me! I was about to get you a date and you’ve been dating Alex for 2 years! Thought we were sisters.” Melinda snapped as she laughed.

“In my defense, it was never brought up. And yes, you’re like my big sister, so I apologize. But now that you guys know, yes. Alex is crazy for me.” Y/n wrapped her arm around Alex as she grinned.

Alex laughed as she shook her head. “Oh, says the one that was a bundle of nervousness whenever I was around.”

Y/n chuckled as she leaned in and kissed her lips, not caring about the squad anymore. No, they were not really trying to hide it, they simply decided the relationship was theirs and theirs only, so there was no need to display it to anyone else, but now that they all knew, they were more than happy to share it with them. Even though they knew the teasing would never end.

[stylespresleyhearted]

what’s the secret project you posted 👀

oh gosh i keep meaning to answer this and then i keep forgetting or pushing it back for reasons unknown to me i think im just unaccustomed to having any asks lol but anyways this is something that actually started because of a certain thing me and marina yell about when it comes to austin and then as our love for callum grew it came to something else grand and beautiful. now it’s only something that has been discussed in the chat, it has no doc or nothing official to it, it may never even come to fruition (marina is already gifting us with so much goodness in the fic worlds she dabbles in)

but i will share some of it and feel free to come further talk about it if it interests you 😘

Warnings: nsfw below the cut, open relationship, threesome, guy x guy, guy x guy x girl

So we’re all aware of how Austin put his blood, sweat, tears, and soul into his Elvis role. This man gave it his all and I’m truly so grateful to him for it because in my opinion (and most importantly in Lisa Marie’s opinion) he did Elvis Presley justice.

• Bree is a famous and highly esteemed guitarist, singer, and lyricist. She’s won multiple Grammies and written for and with Lana Del Rey, Arctic Monkeys, etc., that’s more her vibe. Baz hires her on during the making of Elvis movie so she could help him modernize the soundtrack and help with the choosing of songs. Maybe she’s even there when Austin gathers all the people from the record label and has them ridicule Austin after his first run through.

• But she’s there before filming and she’s there during filming and her and Austin even shack up together for a while during the first COVID lockdown, spending time with him in his apartment and staying up at all hours of the night to help him get certain scenes right. The bed sheets are tangled, kisses are shared, breakfast is eaten in bed not in the kitchen and there are multiple walks on the beach taken together.

• Bree tries her best to be there for him through all of it. She can sense he’s about to sky rocket and rightfully so, she doesn’t think anyone around can currently measure for his talent. She tries to be a soundboard and a friend and a girlfriend of sorts and a co worker and he’s got her playing all these different roles to keep up with him but keep in mind he never asked her to do any of that. She’s doing it because she loves him, maybe she isn’t in love with him or if she is she isn’t aware of it yet but she does love and care for him.

• And he’s going through his shit. He isn’t sure where Austin begins and Elvis ends and he isn’t in the headspace for a relationship, especially with Bree who deserves the world so when he’s sick as a dog and bed ridden before heading to London he makes sure to have the conversation with her. They were never official. Never went public or had rumors swirl. It’s better to end it on a good note and leave it how it is.

• So consider his surprise when a few months into filming MOTA, Bree shows up on Callum’s arm being introduced as his girlfriend. It’s supposed to be a lads night and Barry dragged him out and now someone who he calls one of his closest friends is introducing Bree as his current girlfriend. A close friend who he goes on walks in the parks with, who places kisses on his cheek after a few drinks, who places his hand on the small of Austin’s back when he approaches him, who pinches his cheeks and welcomed him with open arms. Dating someone who was there at his worst and gave him her heart and stayed up entire nights talking him down when his anxiety was too high and made him do self care when he forgot he was supposed to be his own person.

• and see, Callum and Bree are both Brits so they run in semi same circles and they knew of each other and were friends but Callum was with Vanessa Kirby and they were in love and for a while Bree was with Alex Turner and them afterwards there was Austin. So Callum and Bree were already friends and when they run into each other at a record shop and then head to lunch after and maybe Callum gave her a kiss goodbye when they went separate ways - it all just grew from there.

• so maybe Austin feels a green jealous monster growing inside his chest but who he’s jealous of he’s unsure and a larger part of him is actually happy for both of them. They’re good people, they love each other and both deserve each other.

• they’re suddenly everywhere. She accompanies Callum on set and it’s clear to everyone how in love they are and one time when they’re filming the POW scenes and everyone’s on lunch Austin is looking for peace and quiet so he wanders into their “bunks��� but there right in front of him - Callum holding Bree up against the wood panel walls, pounding into her as she moans his name so prettily, his sheepskin jacket still on and making him sweaty. Callum’s eyes open and he catches Austin walking, Austin who trips over his own feet to back away but Callum just smiles and winks at him.

• and later Callum approaches Austin with a high five and a cheeky, “see how good I was giving it to her, mate?”

• and fuck, Austin gets hard thinking about it. Gets hard thinking about Bree’s moans and Callum’s grunt and his sweat and her breasts bouncing against his chest.

• then filming wraps and Austin’s free of them. Doesn’t have to be in there presence every day anymore and he meets someone, a nepo baby who’s beautiful and kind and he’s in a place where he feels he can be with someone so he goes for it and he falls in love.

• and MOTA press isn’t until 2024 so it’s two years of only a handful of run ins with them but then press starts and news break: Callum and Bree are engaged. And the entire cast and crew are happy and they all celebrate.

• She didn’t join Elvis press because she was touring.

• so now Austin is around his engaged friends and he has mixed feelings regarding both of them. See he’s happy and he loves his girlfriend and his career is good but if he’s being honest something is missing and when he wants to torture himself he admits he knows exactly what it is. And he’s doing interviews and Bree is backstage and Callum’s always so touchy and so kind in his words in regard to Austin and one day Callum admits Bree told him what went down between Bree and Austin and Callum’s a confident guy, he assures Austin it’s all fine.

• But maybe it’s the first screening of MOTA, and Callum and Bree are tired of Austin’s sad puppy dog eyes every time they catch him watching them so Bree corners Austin backstage. Gets close and starts palming him through his pants, assuring him Callum wouldn’t mind, in fact Callum has been purposely teasing Austin during interviews trying to get him to cave.

• Callum and Bree both decided if they all wanted it how could it be wrong? Why not go for it?

• And Bree’s falling to her knees and taking Austin in her mouth, pretty pouty lips wrapped around him as she takes him all the way in and suddenly Callum is there, watching them, talking her through it.

• “Isn’t she phenomenal, mate? Had to work with her to get rid of that gag reflex and now she can deep throat me.”

• and Callum waits until Austin mewls his name and calls him over, begging him to be a part of this somehow, to please hold him. So Callum is joining them, Bree so pretty on her knees between them and Callum is flicking Austin’s nipple and letting Austin let his moans out in his neck.

That’s all we have more to come soon if ya’ll wish 🌚

• oh yeah there’s a scene where Bree holds Austin’s hand the first time Callum fucks him because she’s aware of the pain of how large Callum is.

@precious-little-scoundrel

[doctor-dusk]

𝐩𝐚𝐭𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐧 | 𝐚𝐥𝐞𝐱 𝐭.

being the only witness to a crime has its advantages.

warnings: hard dom!alex, smut, oral (f receiving), fingering (f receiving), piv, mentions of death/strangulation.

word count: 4.7k

celebrating am's birthday with an am!alex smut. is it weird for me to say that i actually enjoyed writing this? save me officer turner save me. hope you like it :3

the ticking of the clock was starting to irritate you. not that you were easily irritated, but since you had been sitting there for almost forty minutes, everything seemed to be at least a little irritating from your point of view.

they said it would be quick.

the ceiling fan was also irritating you. it was spinning slowly, barely ventilating. you crossed your legs, leaning back against the cushioned chair, and looked at the clock on the wall. it was almost 8pm.

they really did say it would be quick.

‘’miss.’’ the strangely deep voice of the police station clerk caught your attention. you turned your head to look at her. she didn't look that old, but the strands of gray hair scattered throughout her brown hair gave away that she was in her 50s. ‘’can you sign here?’’ she pointed to the paperwork laid out on the counter under a black ballpoint pen.

you stood up, your shoes making a clicking noise on the porcelain floor as you made your way to sign the papers. you signed the fields marked with an 'x'. it was a boring form, but necessary.

‘’follow me, i'll take you to the interrogation room.’’ she said, coming out from behind the counter, going through the small door to get to you. you followed her through the hallways full of doors, you couldn't tell if they were cells or other departments. you weren't in a position to find out right now, you would just go there, tell what you knew and leave.

she opened the door to interrogation room number 5. you looked around before entering. dark gray walls, a mirrored glass wall to your left, a medium square table with two chairs at the ends. oh, and of course, a small recorder right in the center of the table.

‘’the investigator will be right there to talk to you.’’ she said, motioning for you to sit in the chair. you nodded, taking a few steps forward to sit in the first chair.

you left your purse on your lap, crossing your legs over the other, swaying back and forth. there wasn't much to look at there. you didn't have your phone with you. somehow, they took it as soon as you entered the police station.

that's what you get for going to a pub with a college friend and watching her get strangled in the alley.

you shook your head, guilty for having thought that. it wasn't her fault. at least as far as you know. it was on saturday. it didn't take long for the police to call you in for questioning when they found out you were the only one who witnessed the whole thing.

you sighed, looking around, not sure exactly what you were looking for. you looked at the recorder on the table, tilting your neck forward to get a better look. it was ridiculously old, but it seemed to be in good condition. several small buttons, a small sound output and a vertical microphone, almost imitating an antenna.

you reached out your hand, wanting to touch the tip of the small microphone.

‘’don't touch it.’’ you heard a male voice behind you that made you straighten up immediately, the shock making your heart beat faster and your hand twitching back to your lap in the blink of an eye. you didn't even hear him come into the room.

‘’sorry.’’ you said in an apologetic tone, glancing at him when his steps got louder and firmer towards you to sit in the chair.

all in black, including the suspenders. tailored pants, shoes that were shined that morning. ironed black shirt closed to the last button with the collar low. utility belt circling the small waist with a badge and a gun in the holster.

so this is the investigator? fuck, he's hot.

he let out a heavy sigh, holding a mug with black coffee without sugar and a brown folder under his arm. he smelled like cigarettes, especially because he had smoked one before entering the room. there were bags under his eyes, you didn't know if they were dark circles or if that was something characteristic of him. he certainly looked like he hadn't slept in three days. but still hot.

he threw the folder on the table without much care, pulling out the empty chair to sit down.

‘’coffee?’’ he asked, gesturing with the mug. you shook your head. he shrugged, taking a sip and soon reached into the small outer pocket of his shirt. ‘’gum?’’ he asked again, taking a piece of gum from inside the small rectangular package. ‘’you can take it, you know?’’ he said as if he knew you were hesitant to take it. of course, he was an investigator. he certainly knew a lot about body language at this point.

you reached out to take the gum, accepting it. watermelon flavored, curiously enough, it was one of your favorites. he repeated your action, opening the small package and putting the gum in his mouth, keeping the paper inside his shirt pocket to throw in the trash later. 

‘’comfortable?’’ he asked you. you shifted in your chair, nodding. the chair wasn't that comfortable, but you wouldn't dare complain. ‘’good. let's get started, miss…’’ he paused, reading your name on the interrogation sheet. his accent made it even better. 

he spread the papers on the table meticulously in front of you. it was the investigation dossier. photos of the crime scene, the autopsy report, the draft of the opening of the investigation. he opened a small, worn notebook. there was a pen inside, the clicking sound crackling in your ears as he tested the pen to confirm that it was working. he cleared his throat, turning on the voice recorder, making a small red light light up in the upper left corner of the recorder. he brought his face closer to the microphone, making a few strands of his black hair fall over his forehead like a small waterfall.

‘’tuesday, july 8th, 8:15 pm. this is investigator turner from the 3rd regional police station, and i will now be taking the statement of...'' he paused, reading his name and surname again on the file. ‘’... about the crime of homicide against tori baker, which occurred on the 5th.’’ he said out loud as the recorder began to emit a tiny red light that blinked non-stop, indicating that the recording had started. ‘’did you know the victim?’’

you nodded. he let out an impatient sigh, shaking his head.

‘’words. we're recording.’’ he said in a firm tone, pointing to the recorder. you mentally cursed yourself for having forgotten that detail. he was intimidating you more than you would have liked.

‘’yes, sir.’’ you answered loudly, hearing him hum, writing it down on the interrogation sheet.

‘’was she your friend?’’

‘’college classmate.’’ you answered, eyeing him up and down. you couldn’t help it. cops in general were hot, but this investigator was something else.

‘’were you very close?’’ he continued asking, his eyes fixed on you, looking for some kind of hesitation.

‘’not really. we went out for drinks every now and then.’’ you answered with a slight shrug. ‘’on saturday it wouldn't be any different.’’

‘’any particular reason for drinking on saturday?’’ he asked, pretending he didn't notice you devouring him with your eyes. ‘’birthday, celebration...?’’

‘’good grades.’’ you answered. he raised his eyebrows, not writing down the information because he didn't think it was that important.

‘’tell me about this pub you guys went to on saturday.’’ he prompted, crossing his arms and leaning his weight on the back of the chair.

‘’we used to go to this pub almost always. it's good and cheap. they serve great drinks there and the fries are made fresh.’’ you answered, seeing that he hadn't written anything down in his notebook, since he didn't think it was important yet.

‘’when you guys went out, was it always the two of you or did someone else go with you?’’ he asked, fiddling with the pen between his fingers. there was no way that even this was sexy.

‘’most of the time it was just me and her. some college friends would go with us too, but not always. on saturday, a friend of mine had gone with us.’’

‘’and where was she when it all happened?’’ he sat up straight in his chair, ready to write it down.

‘’fucking the security guard in the bathroom.’’ you answered. he was speechless for a few seconds, raising his eyebrows. you knew it was very blunt of you, but you knew you couldn't lie. ‘’her words.’’

‘’right. i think we can leave that part out of the interrogation.’’ he muttered, clearing his throat. ‘’tell me how it all happened. where you were, how you got there and what you saw.’’

you took a deep breath, trying to collect your thoughts. it wasn't a memory you liked to keep and much less one you would like to recall out loud. you clenched your fists a little, becoming merely restless.

‘’take your time.’’ he said when he realized you had been silent for too long.

you sighed, chewing your gum for a few seconds before starting to speak. ‘’i was already a bit tipsy. i had had about 4 shots. maybe 5. she told me she was going to smoke and left through the back door. i stayed at the bar.’’ you said slowly, especially since he was writing it down quickly. his writing was a bit sloppy, but it was enough to understand. i mean, at least he understood. ‘’at a certain point i decided to leave too. i wasn't feeling well and the bathrooms were too far away.’’

‘’how long between her leaving and you leaving too?’’ he asked you. you blinked a few times, you realized you were too distracted by how his body was leaning over the table.

you scoffed, trying to think. ‘’i don't know... maybe 10 minutes. i wasn't looking at the clock.’’ you replied and he nodded, gesturing for you to continue. ‘’so i went out the back door and…’’ you stopped. ‘’can't remember vividly.’’

he looked at you, squinting his caramel eyes. you remembered, of course. you remembered enough. and he knew it.

‘’c'mon. tell me what you know. i promise if you tell me we'll finish before 10pm.’’ he drawled a little. it strangely gave you chills. you chewed your gum, blowing air into it, the sound of it popping echoing through the silent room. so silent that you could even hear the blood running through your veins as your heart beat faster.

the investigator clenched his jaw, pressing the recorder button to pause the recording, clasping his two hands together, resting his forearms on the desk, leaning closer to you. fuck, he was so pretty up close. you could even see a mole in the lower left corner below his mouth.

‘’what do you want?’’ he questioned.

‘’what do you have to offer me, investigator?’’ you asked back, your shoed foot climbing up his leg. his fingers clenched against each other subtly at your tone.

he stood up, firm footsteps walking across the room towards the door. he opened it, sticking his head out and looking down the hallway from one end to the other, making sure there was no one there. the police station was almost always empty at this time. almost everyone was having dinner.

he closed the door again, locking it. the clicking sound made your heart beat faster and your mouth went dry.

‘’let's make a deal, miss.’’ he urged behind you, his big hand flying to your shoulder, your eyes widened at the firm contact. he bent over, his head right above your shoulder, his face close to yours. ‘’i'll give you what you want as long as you tell me what you know i need to know. deal?’’

oh, please. you didn't even need to answer. your cunt throbbed at the single thought.

‘��deal.’’ you answered, glancing at him, catching his smirk in the corner of your eye.

‘’sit down at the desk.’’ he commanded, straightening his posture and carefully removing his utility belt, leaving it hanging over the back of the chair as you stood up.

‘’the papers.’’ you pointed to the papers spread out on the metal table.

‘’fuck the papers. i told you to sit down.’’ he said rudely, rolling up the sleeves of his shirt to his elbows. rough. you liked it.

you sat down on the table before he could lose his patience, your jeans were crumpling the papers under your ass, but he didn't care about that, and neither should you. he hurried to reach for the button on your pants, pulling the zipper down.

‘’not even a little kiss to warm up?’’ you teased him. he narrowed his eyes on you.

‘’no. you're asking too much.’’ he said and you giggled as he roughly pulled your jeans down along with your panties, going down to your ankles, where he pulled only the left side, keeping your pants and panties hanging by your right heel.

‘’you're going to eat me out and you're telling me that a little kiss is too much?’’ you questioned as you watched him getting down on his knees in front of you, the sight alone already making your cunt even wetter.

‘’the bones of the trade.’’ he grunted, spreading your legs without any delicacy, as if he was impatient and in a hurry. but oh, he couldn't help but lick his lips at the sight of your glistening pussy right before his eyes, so pretty and ready for him. he looked up at you for a split second. ‘’any particular reason for being like this?’’ he asked, teasing you for the first time.

‘’i have a thing for investigators.’’ you joked, already feeling his hot breath ghosting over your sensitive skin, making your cunt pulse in reflex. he took the chewed gum out of his mouth, sticking it under the table.

‘’guess i'm lucky.’’ he shot back, moving his hands to your inner thighs, his rough and calloused fingers digging into your skin, almost leaving marks because of how little delicacy he was using. ‘’now tell me what you know.’’

before you could even begin, his tongue slowly runs itself against your pulsing clit, making your eyes gradually roll to the back of your head. he licked again, this time starting from the bottom, collecting a stripe on his tongue, swallowing his own grunt for doing so.

''w-where do i start?'' you asked after recovering from that first contact.

''you left the bar through the back door.'' he recalled, his mouth going back to your pussy, his tongue swirling around your entrance, collecting your slimy juices, lapping his wet muscle over your folds like he meant it.

oh, this is going to be harder than you thought.

‘’i left the bar, they were on the dark side. the lamp was broken and i couldn't see very well.’’ you kept going, your eyes almost closing as he was sucking against your folds, the squelches were sloppy and your both hands grabbed the edges of the cold desk, grounding yourself as he delved into your pussy, licking and sucking you like your pussy was an orange, where he could smear himself with your sweet wetness. ‘’i- i was so fucking drunk and…’’ he hummed against your throbbing cunt, his eyes and ears on you the whole time, multitasking between eating you out and continuing with the interrogation to get more information.

‘’what did he use to strangle her?’’ he asked, his breath coming out in hot puffs, his hot mouth rising to suck your clit, shoving two fingers inside your cunt. his long and slender fingers scissored you, stretching you out, exploring your gummy walls and making you whine.

‘’hands.’’ you panted, your head falling back, all your eyes could see was the white light from the interrogation room ceiling.

‘’hands.’’ he repeated, curling his fingers inside you, reaching the caves of your walls and hitting spots you didn't even know could be located, feeling the clenching motion around them. ‘’were they saying something?’’

‘’i couldn't hear, i swear…’’ you babbled, feeling him giving sweet kisses all over your pussy while his fingers were buried in you up to the knuckles, moving in and out, making a squishy sound. he made a disappointed face, but didn't stop what he was doing.

‘’he saw you?’’ he asked. you nodded. you remembered the man looking at you that night. his piercing eyes staring into your soul. you didn't even know how you were still alive. ‘’do you think there's a reason he didn't kill you too?’’

‘’i think it's because i’m hot.’’ you hissed as he slapped your pussy sharply. you were being too bold for your own good.

‘’maybe you're right.’’ he answered, you could even feel that annoying smile against your pussy as he slurps everywhere, making sure no spot goes untouched as his protruding nose rubbed against your clit.

oh, you almost smiled. he thinks you're hot too.

you're so wet and so sensitive now, soaking not only his mouth but also his chin. but damn, that man was an eater. you couldn't control yourself, almost closing your trembling legs around his head as his fingers pumped inside your pussy with purpose. your hand moved from behind to hold his head, needing to keep him close as you're approaching your climax.

‘’and what did you do after he strangled her?’’ he asked, moving his mouth away a little, his fingers never stopping their restless movements, feeling that your cunt was coating them so much at this point.

‘’i threw up.’’ you answered honestly. his mouth and nose twitched a bit.

‘’understandable. what was he like? i know you saw him.’’ his tepid breath hitted your fevered skin.

‘’m-maybe i saw him.’’ you babble out. he rolled his eyes, realizing he needed to change his strategy.

without any warning, he pulled away from your pussy, pulling his fingers from your gaping and aching hole. you looked at him, you were close, so close...

turner wiped his wet face with the back of his hand, standing up again.

‘’what was our deal?’’ he asked, placing both his hands on the table, caging you. he was impatient. ‘’i'll give you the what you want and you give me what i want.’’

‘’i told you what i knew.’’ you shrugged nonchalantly.

‘’fucking brat.’’ he growled, running his hand through his hair, combing back. he took a deep breath, pulling you from the table and making you stand, your weak knees almost gave out, but you managed to balance yourself only for him to turn you around and push you against the table, forcing you to bend down.

you let out a gasp at his attitude. his hand crept along the curve of your ass in a strangely delicate way.

‘’change of plans.’’ he announced, the sound of him unbuttoning his own pants ringing through your ears like a sweet melody. ‘’take this notebook and this pen.’’ he said, referring to the small notebook and pen he was using. your eager hands reached out to grab it. ‘’you will write down all of his characteristics that you remember on this sheet of paper while i fuck you. is that enough for you?’’

his words hit you harder than expected. you nearly convulsed at the feeling of his reddened tip nudging your entrance.

‘’fucking answer me.’’ he growled, gripping the back of your head hard. you nodded quickly. he pressed your face against the papers on the table, your eyes glanced at him behind you, his thick cock threatening your entrance the whole time. ‘’words.’’

‘’yes, yes, i get it.’’ you answered almost breathlessly.

taking a deep and sharp breath, he buried himself inside you, a high-pitched moan escaping your lips as your toes curled and your hands twitched. he bottomed out, watching how your pussy swallowed his cock with greed. he forced himself to look away. god, he was already hard since he saw your pussy, when he ate you out then... he almost came in his pants. if he gives in a little more, he might explode cum inside you in the blink of an eye.

‘’what are you waiting for? write it down right now.’’ he ordered, his hand slapping you hard on the ass, watching it jiggle and you winced, feeling it sting like a painful insect bite.

‘’fuck, you're so deep…’’ you cried out, you could feel his tip poking your cervix. he was indeed balls deep inside your cunt, forcing the goppy insides of your cunt to accommodate him.

‘’stop complaining. you asked for it.’’ he grunts as his rhythm begins to become restless, his hips snapping against your ass, hitting you deep and raw. so dirty and raw. yes, you definitely asked for it.

he was taking you so hard, almost as if no thought was going through his head while he was pumping into you, making you feel full of his big, veiny cock. trembling, your hand began to write. your handwriting was almost a scrawl, you could barely stand and the desk was shaking too much with his incessant rhythm.

‘’tall. good girl. how tall are we talking?’’ he hummed in your ear, seeing what you were writing.

‘’mmm i think 6 feet tall…’’ you replied, a pathetic moan leaving your lips as he started to roll his hips against you.

‘’write it down.’’ he tapped the notebook with his index finger.

you were so drunk, your body was practically stretched out on the table, but you were determined to write down everything you remembered about that man. god, you even felt guilty because your colleague had to be strangled for you to be there, but it was so good, he was fucking you so good, so hard and deep.

he couldn't say he was hating it. oh, quite the opposite. he was loving feeling your cunt gaping out around him. he was so thick, the stretch making your mouth water and your knees buckle as your tongue lolled out.

“tall, buzz cut, green eyes, scar on the cheek and tattoo on the hand. that's because you didn't remember, hm?” he groaned hoarsely into your ear, smirking and slowing down his movements, moving as slow as a turtle now. “was that all you needed? for me to fuck you to the hilt? what do you think your colleague would think about this? you're so fucking selfish.”

“shut up.” you gulped, feeling his teeth sinking into your shoulder as he slammed back into your pussy again and again.

“tsk tsk, don't you dare to talk to me like that." he scolded you, his hand returning to your head, pressing your skull against the table, you're already drooling over the papers, but you loved it. he was right, you're selfish.

“or what?” you asked, feeling the pressure in your bones like he was smashing your head at that desk. worse than that, he was practically skinning your pussy, it was getting sore, swollen, it burned like it was getting raw.

“or you'll spend the night in a cell to learn to respect authority. sound good?” he panted in your ear, closing his fist around your hair, twisting it and forcing you to raise your head to look at him. 

“will you pay me a visit in the early hours of the morning?” you asked, a wicked smile playing at your lips. he almost smiled. damn, you're crazy. and in a way it made his cock throb.

“maybe. what was that tattoo on his hand? promise, that's all i need and i'll make you cum.” he tilted his head, his hand grabbed your buttocks tightly, pushing it to the side so he could look and see how his cock was already coated with a white liquid from the friction. “milking my cock already.” he scoffed, giving you another firm slap on your ass cheek.

“i-it was a snake. a snake.” you cried, coaxing a groan from the back of his throat, his pace quickening as his smile widened. the scent of sex surrounding you both and permeating the interrogation room. 

“mhmm, good girl. well, you were actually useful to me.” he said in a tone of mere disdain, deep down a bit of desire dripping into his voice as he pounded into you restlessly. the way he said it did things to you, and soon you were collapsing on his cock, your cunt pulsing and squeezing him like a vice. 

he forced himself to pull out of you. of course, he wasn't using a condom, he would never risk it. he watched with wide and attentive eyes while you were reduced to a mess, your cunt gaped, oozing arousal, a strong pink hue predominated, demonstrating how abused your hole was because of him.

turner looked down at his cock, it was so hard that it was painful the veins were much more marked and the reddened tip was leaking precum, he needed to release it somehow. he grunted, tucking his cock back into his pants and zipping up. he didn't ask if you were okay. he knew you were. 

he cleared his throat, watching you collapse into the chair behind you. you were breathless and blissed out with all that happened.

it took a while before you could put on your jeans, you felt like you were completely boneless now, every part of your body was exhausted and begged for bed and two muscle relaxant capsules. 

“alright, the interrogation is over, you can leave.” he said to you, sitting back down in his chair, taking a sip of the coffee that was still warm. simple as that. you weren't expecting more, actually. 

you held your purse, feeling a pain in your cervix that you knew would last a couple of days, but it was worth it. you wiped your face, wiping away the sweat and fixing your hair so it didn't look like you were hit by a bus.

“i think he was a drug dealer.” you said, stopping at your tracks. "that area has a lot of them and she wasn't a saint either. but she was a nice person.” 

the investigator nodded, noticing the hint of resignation in your voice. that was all he needed to know, actually. the police didn't get too involved in cases involving drug trafficking. society had its laws and they had theirs. the police didn't have much power in that regard — in fact, they didn't want to fight. what would the militia be without drug trafficking, by the way?

“thanks for your cooperation.” he replied. you nodded, pressing your swollen lips against each other, forming a thin line. “there will be a vehicle with two cops outside to take you home safely.”

“is that all? i mean if you need anything else…”

he interrupted you. “i know. i have everything about you here.” he tapped the sheet with your file. “besides, i'm an investigator. i will find you.”

you could see the shadow of a smile forming at the corner of his lips. but you weren't sure. he was so hard to read. you nodded, excusing yourself and walked to the door, unlocking it and leaving the interrogation room without looking back. 

turner spent a good few seconds staring blankly at the closed black door. he didn't know what he was thinking exactly. it wasn't like he fucked every witness he questioned. but he didn't regret it either. 

he shook his head, collecting all the paperwork again, seeing that you had drooled over some of it, smudging the written words with printer ink. he didn't care. it wasn't like this investigation was going to go anywhere. he carefully placed all the papers in the file folder, turning off the recorder. 

his body relaxed a little in the chair, his head fell back and he closed his eyes, rubbing his closed eyelids hard with the thumb and index finger of his left hand. your moans were still echoing through his head. he had to admit, he liked you. 

his cock throbbed again at the thought of you, he had almost forgotten about his own problem now. he would have to spend a few minutes fucking his fist in his office to get some relief.

before he got up from his chair to leave the interrogation room, he picked up the small notebook, looking at what you wrote. his eyes rested on your handwriting before he closed it and picked up the pen, starting to scribble on the investigation update sheet on the cover of the brown file.

#case 521 — tori baker

status: closed…?

a/n: i shoud be working rn...

taglist: @thenightslikeawhirlwind, @goblinontour, @yourstartreatment

(if there are more people who asked to be on the taglist, please enlighten me again, i must have forgotten to include :x)

[youresodarkbabe]

eyes roll back (a. turner x reader)

smut.

warnings: it's a blurb so not much, oral (f!receiving), dom!al if that even counts

word count: 624

i didn't die!!

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“what are you reading?”

your voice hits alex’s ears like a song. he looks up from his book, and smiles at you wrapped in a baby pink towel, straight out of the shower.

“that romance novel katie left behind last time she was ‘round.”

“oh? how is it, baby?”, you ask as you pull out one of alex’s shirts and a pair of shorts from your shared dresser.

“’s good. getting very.. interesting right now.” alex pulls a pillow out from behind him and lays it down on your side of the bed for you. you jump into bed, resting your head right on his shoulder. alex wraps an arm around you, running his hand up and down the length of your arm.

“how so?”

alex sighs, resting the book page down on his chest. “look for yourself, love,” he mutters as he folds his arms behind his head. you reach out and take the book from him (not without him reaching his neck out to kiss your arm).

you read the line at the top of the page, quietly murmuring along as your eyes glide across the inked words. about halfway down the page, you see what alex was talking about. “oh.” alex chuckles, “yeah? keep reading it out for me, ‘m interested.”

you raise an eyebrow and look at him, eyes boring into his. “you, interested in this?” you giggle at the prospect of the alex turner, old as he is, being interested in these silly little spicy romance novels. “yeah. read it for me.”

“okay.. where’d you stop?”

“somewhere around ‘he kissed down her’ somethin’.” alex sits down and moves you so that you were lying dead centre on the bed. he lies down on his side, waiting for you to start reading.

“‘he kissed down her chest, spreading apart her thighs with his hands as he-’ alex.”

alex looks up at you, lips still attached to the side of your stomach. “mhm?”

“what are you doing?”

“don’t worry your little head about it, love. keep reading?” he presses a kiss far lower, right above the waistband of your shorts. he nudges your thighs apart with his head, resting his cheek on you. “c’mon, do it for me, i know you can,” he rests the palm of his right hand on your clothed cunt, gently pressing the heel of his hand into you. you raise your hips slightly, bucking into his hand as you moan quietly.

“careful with the book, don’t wanna lose the page, do we?”

“mm-mm, we don’t.”

“good girl. now hold the book steady.” alex stretches out his hand to straighten out the book for you to hold.

“um, ‘spreading apart her thighs as he kisses her hip. he hooked his-’ alex, i can’t.”

alex kisses your hip once again. “‘you can’t’ what, baby?” he bites the inside of your cheek to stop himself from laughing at you whine.

“can’t focus. at all!”

“try. you’re my smart girl, i know you can.”

“i forgot where i was, uh, ‘he tugs them off, down to her ankles.’”

“done. next?” alex moves away for a quick second to let you kick your shorts off. “‘he kisses and bites on the insides of her thighs and-’, fuck, alex. if you know what’s happening next, then why are you making me read this?”

alex sucks and bites the inside of your thigh until they’re as red as your face. “you look fucking adorable when you’re embarrassed.”

your face goes even redder.

“it’s okay, you don’t have to keep reading. i got you.” alex’s kisses stray further and further towards your pussy. “do you want me to read to you, or would you prefer having me show you how the book goes on?”

⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅