#alex turner x her?

[argumentativantitheticaldream]

𝐘𝐨𝐮'𝐫𝐞 𝐧𝐨 𝐠𝐨𝐨𝐝 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐦𝐞

Warnings: age gap (obvs) although its kind of questionable in this, rough sex?, blowie? he hurts her (kinda....) i'm so sick

The dynamic between them was one of glittering imbalance, a silent arrangement where neither spoke of the terms, though both knew them well. He had plucked her from obscurity after one of his shows, a night that had been as much about indulgence as it was about power. She’d been in the audience, radiant in her simplicity, her wide-eyed admiration unmistakable even in the crowded stadium.

Later, backstage, he had found her lingering, unsure of herself, her youth and awe making her seem out of place among the clinking glasses and hushed murmurs of industry elites. She was nervous but willing, and that combination had intrigued him. He liked things that bent easily to his will, and she had practically offered herself up without him having to ask.

From there, it had been easy. He showered her with gifts, wrapping her in luxury and adoration so intoxicating she couldn’t see it for what it was: a gilded cage. Designer handbags, jewelry that sparkled like stars, dresses that clung to her figure with expensive precision, all tokens of his affection, if you could call it that. He liked her soft, pliable, polished into the perfect little doll to sit on his arm.

And she adored him for it. Or at least, she adored the version of him she had built in her mind, the man who saw her in a way no one else ever had. To her, his gifts were proof of his devotion, his way of showing her she was special, worthy of the attention of someone as important as him.

He, of course, saw it differently. She wasn’t a lover in the traditional sense, not someone he’d ever write poetry about or lose sleep over. She was an indulgence, a pretty little thing to keep him entertained, to stroke his ego and obey his whims without question. He enjoyed the way she looked at him, like he was the sun and she was a flower desperate for light. That kind of adoration was addictive, even for someone as jaded as him.

When they were together, the balance was always tilted in his favor. He decided where they went, what she wore, even what they ate. She followed without complaint, her bright, eager smile never faltering, no matter how casually he dismissed her or how rarely he acknowledged the effort she put into pleasing him.

She told herself it didn’t matter. That the moments he did look at her, the fleeting touches, the rare compliments, were worth more than all the coldness in between. She had convinced herself that he cared, in his own way, even if that care was wrapped up in control and distance.

To him, she was a novelty, a pretty distraction, someone to admire his world without ever truly being a part of it. And yet, despite his indifference, or perhaps because of it, she clung to the illusion that what they had was real, that he saw her as more than just something to toy with.

And in her mind, he was everything: a man who had plucked her from nothing, elevated her, and given her a taste of a world she’d never dreamed of belonging to. She loved him with the kind of blind, unshakable devotion that only comes from youth and inexperience. And he let her, because it amused him. Because he liked the way she fit so perfectly into the role he had cast her in: soft, sweet, and entirely his.

The sun slanted low over the cobbled streets, dipping the world in amber light that caught the gold flecks in her hair as she waited, lingering in the living room. Her hands, soft, slender, clutched the handles of glossy shopping bags that swung like pendulums, weighted with small treasures she had carefully chosen. Her fingers ached from the weight, but her heart ached more, carrying the hope he might smile.

And then he appeared.

He moved through the doorway like a shadow cast long before him, tall, angular, and cold as a winter night. His eyes swept over her, indifferent, like one glancing at furniture that had always been there. A faint smile played on her lips, but his own stayed still, cruelly restrained, as though any sign of affection would cost him dearly.

“You’re home early,” he said, the words clipped, not cruel in sound but in the distance they implied.

“I thought you might like these, Alex” she began, her voice rising like a sparrow, small and eager, as she lifted the bags slightly for him to notice.

He didn’t. Instead, he brushed past her, the scent of tobacco and faint leather swirling in his wake. Already halfway to the balcony, he turned and whistled low, sharp, a sound that was unfamiliar to her. A summons, not an invitation.

She followed.

Out on the balcony, the city murmured below, the distant hum of voices and the occasional laughter rising like smoke. He sat, sprawled in the wrought iron chair with a cigarette between his fingers, lighting it with a deliberate, almost theatrical slowness. The lighter flared, and for a moment, his face glowed with a holy kind of beauty, sharp cheekbones, shadowed eyes, lips that could have spoken tenderness but instead exhaled smoke.

She hovered at the door, unsure, as she always was. “I got you something. Several somethings,” she said, her voice soft, hopeful, almost too sweet for the world.

He didn’t look at her. He took a drag from the cigarette, exhaling toward the skyline. “Don’t hover,” he said, the words dragging like the smoke itself. “Sit, if you want. Or don’t.”

Her cheeks burned, but she stepped out onto the balcony, setting the bags quietly against the wall. She sat across from him, hands folded in her lap, her eyes searching his face for even a trace of warmth. There was none. There was only the night settling in around them, cold and indifferent, a mirror to the man she adored.

“Did you have fun?” he asked after a silence stretched too thin, his tone so flat it almost sounded like mockery.

She nodded quickly, almost too eagerly. “I went everywhere. I kept thinking of you.”

He chuckled, a dry sound that didn’t quite reach his eyes. “I’m sure you did.”

The words landed between them like shards of glass, and still, she smiled. Sweet as sunshine. Desperate to warm the cold of him, even if it meant burning herself in the process.

The air between them thickened with the haze of his cigarette smoke, spiraling lazily upward like the cruelty that hung unspoken in his gaze. She sat still, her back straight, her hands folded tightly in her lap. The city murmured far below, but it may as well have been a world away. Here, on the balcony, there was only him. His sharp cheekbones, his callous grin, the weight of his gaze that seemed to measure her every weakness.

He took a long drag, the ember flaring bright, before leaning forward and exhaling directly in her face. She coughed softly, fanning the smoke with her hand, but her smile didn’t falter. She would never let it falter.

“Sweet thing,” he drawled, the cigarette dangling from his fingers as his eyes roamed her face. “You should try it. You’re always so good, so clean. Aren’t you curious?”

She shook her head quickly, her cheeks flushing. “No, thank you,” she said, her voice as light as a songbird’s, though her heart was racing.

He smirked at her refusal, a flicker of something mean dancing in his dark eyes. “No?” he asked, tilting his head. “That’s no way to learn.”

Before she could respond, his hand shot out, gripping her jaw. His touch was firm, rough, and he tilted her face up toward him with a deliberate force that made her gasp. The cigarette hovered inches from her lips, the faint heat of its ember licking the air between them.

“You’re so small,” he murmured, his voice low, almost tender, though the malice never left his tone. “So little. Always waiting for me to decide, aren’t you?”

Her eyes widened, but she didn’t struggle. She couldn’t. His thumb pressed into her cheek, his grip unyielding, as if testing how far he could go before she broke.

“Open,” he said, soft but commanding.

“I—I don’t want to,” she whispered, her voice trembling.

His smile grew sharp as a blade. “And yet,” he said, his fingers tightening slightly, prying her lips apart with a cruel kind of patience. “Here you are. Mine to mold.”

The cigarette touched her lips briefly before he pulled it back, laughing low in his throat. He released her suddenly, her head snapping back slightly as she gasped for breath, her hands trembling in her lap.

“You really are something,” he said, leaning back in his chair, the cigarette returning to his own lips. “I should be grateful, shouldn’t I? But somehow, you always leave me wanting more.”

She sat frozen, the heat of his touch still lingering on her skin. But then, slowly, she folded her hands again, straightened her spine, and forced a small smile to her lips.

“Yes,” she whispered, though her voice shook.

He chuckled again, the sound scraping against the night. “We’ll see about that,” he said, flicking ash over the balcony rail. “Won’t we, little one?”

Her chest fluttered with the kind of breathless admiration that felt too big for her small frame. Every movement he made, every careless gesture, was poetry to her something unstudied yet achingly deliberate. The way he leaned back in his chair, smoke curling from his lips as though the air bent itself to him, was nothing short of magnificent. He was a man so entirely self-assured, so utterly himself, that she felt honored just to orbit him, even if it was at a distance.

Her fingers toyed with the hem of her dress, her cheeks warm as she cast a sidelong glance at him. He didn’t notice, he rarely seemed to notice, but that didn’t matter. To her, it was enough just to be here, to be close to him. He was everything she admired: confident, commanding, unapologetic in the way he existed in the world. His sharp edges didn’t seem cruel to her; they seemed powerful, like marble carved by a sculptor.

He exhaled another plume of smoke, and she leaned forward just slightly, as though trying to catch it. Even the faint smell of tobacco on him seemed elegant, worldly, a sign of the life he’d lived before her. A life she could only dream of understanding.

She knew he wasn’t like her. He wasn’t soft, wasn’t patient. He didn’t say things to reassure her or offer her the kind of affection she sometimes craved. But what he did give her, the sharpness of his attention, the weight of his gaze when he’d meet hers, felt more precious than any softness ever could. He was a man of few words, and fewer still that were kind, but wasn’t that just because he was real? He wasn’t pretending for her, wasn’t dressing himself up in gentleness just to please her. That made everything he said, every glance, every acknowledgment, feel like a treasure she could hoard.

And she loved him for it. Completely, utterly, without reservation. Even when he dismissed her with a wave of his hand. Even when he walked past her without a glance. She didn’t see it as rejection; she saw it as evidence of his greatness. He was busy, important, too full of life to slow down for her, and wasn’t that exactly what made him so fascinating?

She was nothing compared to him, she knew that. She was small, ordinary, a simple girl with wide eyes and a heart too soft for the world. But he had seen her, chosen her, and that was enough to make her feel as if she were someone extraordinary.

“You’re quiet,” he said suddenly, his voice low and smooth, pulling her from her thoughts.

Her head snapped up, her cheeks coloring under his gaze. “I was just thinking,” she said quickly, her smile bright, almost bashful.

“Thinking, were you?” He leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees, and for a moment, his eyes seemed to pierce through her. “What does that mind of yours get up to when I’m not looking?”

She laughed softly, shaking her head. “Just about you,” she admitted, her voice small, the truth of her words lighting up her face.

He smiled faintly, just enough to make her heart race and leaned back again, exhaling a lazy plume of smoke. “Of course you were,” he said, almost as if it were obvious.

He stubbed out the cigarette without thinking, his careless, confident hand moving to her inner thigh, the ash grazed her thigh and the butt burnt her fair skin.

The warmth spread before she fully registered it, a sharp sting blossoming on her skin. She gasped softly, her eyes darting to his face, waiting for him to apologize, to acknowledge the thoughtlessness of the action.

But he only tilted his head, a slow smirk curling his lips. "Did that startle you, little one?" he murmured, his voice low, languid, teasing.

“It- yes,” she managed, her voice breathless but steady, her hands clutching the folds of her dress tightly in her lap. “It stung a little.”

He leaned forward, his fingers ghosting over her knee, then brushing higher, deliberate and unhurried. “Let me see,” he said, not so much asking as commanding.

Her breath hitched, but she nodded, trusting him completely, as she always did. Slowly, he flicked the edge of her skirt upward, his movements smooth and deliberate. The fabric pooled higher until the pale skin of her thigh was exposed, the faint pink mark from the cigarette a quiet testament to the sting.

His eyes lingered, and his smirk deepened, though his fingers remained gentle as they traced just above the mark. “You’re so delicate,” he said softly, almost admiringly, though the mischief in his gaze betrayed the flicker of affection behind his words. “I hardly touched you, and look at that.”

She flushed, torn between embarrassment and the strange thrill of being seen so completely by him. “It’s nothing,” she said quickly, her voice small. “I’m fine.”

He chuckled, his thumb brushing against the edge of the mark, sending a shiver up her spine. “Of course you are,” he said, leaning back, his hand still resting on her thigh for a lingering moment before withdrawing entirely. He adjusted himself in his chair, exhaling the remnants of smoke like a man entirely at ease with the world.

“You always are, aren’t you, little one?” he said, his smirk still playing on his lips as his thumb slowly traced her thigh up to the edge of her underwear, gently mapping out the stitching and intricate lace.

She nodded, folding her hands over the edge of her skirt as he let it fall back into place. Her cheeks still burned, but she kept her eyes on him, her admiration undimmed by his casual, thoughtless boldness. She would have forgiven him anything, even his cruelty, because to her, there was no one else in the world so entirely fascinating, so entirely worth enduring for.

She stayed quiet, her hands resting on her lap, the sting on her thigh faint but vivid, the ghost of his touch lingering as if to remind her that he was always in control. Her heart fluttered erratically, the warmth in her cheeks spreading through her body like a secret she wasn’t quite ready to name.

He sat back, utterly composed, a man who took everything for granted, including her unwavering adoration. With his cigarette stubbed out and discarded, he shifted his attention to her with the kind of lazy curiosity that sent ripples through her chest. His dark eyes roamed her face, lingering on the softness of her lips, the way she blinked up at him, wide-eyed.

“Do you ever wonder why I picked you?” he asked suddenly, his voice low and almost musing, as if the question had just occurred to him.

The words startled her. She opened her mouth to answer, then faltered, unsure if she was supposed to speak. “I—” she began, her voice catching in her throat. “I don’t know. I just… I’m glad you did.”

His smirk returned, slow and sharp, as if her answer had pleased him. “Of course you are,” he said, reaching out to brush his fingers beneath her chin, tilting her face up to meet his gaze. “But don’t you wonder? Don’t you lie awake at night thinking about it? Why you, out of everyone?”

“I do,” she admitted softly, her voice trembling with the weight of the confession. “I think about it all the time.”

“And?” he prompted, his thumb tracing the line of her jaw with the same carelessness he’d used to stub out the cigarette, as if her skin were another surface for him to leave his mark on. “What do you decide, little one?”

She swallowed, her hands twisting in the fabric of her dress. “I think… maybe it’s because I admire you,” she said, the words spilling out before she could stop them. “Because I see you, how much wiser you are, how much better you are. I think you chose me because I understand how extraordinary you are?”

He laughed then, a low, rough sound that sent a thrill through her. “You’re quite the little poet, aren’t you?” he said, his fingers dropping from her chin to trace the edge of her dress. “Always saying just the right thing. It’s no wonder you’re my favorite.”

The compliment made her heart swell, even as her cheeks burned under the weight of his gaze. She wanted to say more, to tell him how she thought about him constantly, how every action she took was for him, how he made her feel like someone worth being seen. But she stayed quiet, afraid that anything more might spoil the moment.

He leaned back again, his hand withdrawing completely, as if to remind her that even his attention was a privilege she should never take for granted. “You amuse me,” he said, his voice tinged with amusement and something that felt almost like fondness. “That’s why I keep you around, girl. You keep me entertained.”

Her heart sank slightly at the words, but she smiled anyway, nodding as if they were all she’d ever wanted to hear. “I’m glad I do,” she said softly, her voice as sweet as ever.

He smirked, lighting another cigarette with the ease of someone who’d never questioned his own importance. “Good,” he said simply, exhaling a plume of smoke as he turned his attention back to the city below.

And she sat there, quiet and radiant, her hands folded neatly in her lap, the sting on her thigh a reminder that he had touched her, seen her, chosen her. And for her, that was enough. It would always be enough.

The room was quiet, save for the hum of the city outside and the soft rustle of fabric as he shifted on the sofa. His posture was relaxed, almost regal, a man fully at ease in his own dominance. His long legs sprawled across the cushions, his fingers absentmindedly tracing the rim of a glass, the air around him thick with a kind of casual authority. He didn’t need to speak loudly; his presence was enough to fill the space.

She lay on the floor before him, her body splayed out in an exaggeratedly soft way, as though she had melted into the cool surface beneath her. Her form was open, vulnerable, a direct contrast to his confident stillness. She had fallen into the role he had defined for her; passive, adoring, always waiting for the next word, the next instruction.

It wasn’t that she felt small but in his presence, she often felt like the air itself was something to be shaped and shifted by his whims. She adored it, even now, as she lay there with her cheek resting against the plush carpet. She’d grown used to this rhythm between them: his carelessness, his dominance, and her place beneath him. She didn’t resent it; she had come to crave it. It was what made her feel noticed, important, alive in a world where she was often ignored.

Without shifting his gaze from the glass, he spoke. His voice was low, smooth, an almost imperceptible command that lingered in the air.

“Crawl to me,” he said, his words detached, casual, as though he were asking her to pass him the remote rather than command her body in such an intimate way. His legs parted slightly, a subtle invitation, though the intent was clear: he was making space for her, but on his terms.

Her heart stuttered at the words, and without hesitation, she listened. Her body moved as though it had been trained for this moment, her knees dragging her forward, the smoothness of the carpet against her palms grounding her in the reality of the situation. It wasn’t an act of submission so much as it was a role she’d accepted, one she never questioned. The connection between them, for all its one-sidedness, felt true in these small, intimate actions.

As she approached, his eyes flicked down to her, the faintest hint of amusement in his gaze. There was no warmth there, only the sharpness of someone who had grown accustomed to having everything go his way. He watched her, not out of affection, but curiosity, curiosity about how far she would go, how much of herself she would give to this dynamic they shared.

When she reached his feet, she paused, her head slightly lowered in a gesture of respect, her hands resting on the floor beside her. He didn’t speak for a moment, simply watching her as though considering something private.

“You’re good at this,” he said finally, a hint of approval in his tone. “Always so eager.”

Her chest tightened, a warm flush blooming across her face at his words. She didn’t need him to say more; the faintest praise from him felt like a reward, a confirmation that she was doing her part. In his world, that was enough.

He leaned back further, stretching his legs out as he made more room for her, his fingers absentmindedly brushing the side of her face as she remained on the floor, her eyes now cast upward toward him. His touch was light, almost dismissive, but to her, it felt like a signal, an acknowledgment that she was exactly where she was meant to be.

“Good girl,” he murmured, the words drifting lazily between them. And though they weren’t spoken with deep affection, they felt more precious than any grand declaration of love she could imagine.

She remained kneeling before him, the tension in the air palpable, as her heart beat faster with each passing second. It wasn’t just the physical space between them that had shifted, but the emotional distance that seemed to grow and contract with every word he spoke. He was a mystery to her, both a puzzle and a certainty. She knew his movements, the way he would speak to her, the way he would look at her as if she were both the object of his amusement and a part of the world he controlled.

His eyes, however, had never softened toward her. They were sharp, appraising, and distant, as if to remind her that she was still something he owned, something he could toy with when he wished. She felt herself straining for his approval, her mind racing to stay in his good graces, even as she recognized, deep down, that the approval she sought was fleeting.

He shifted in his seat, his posture confident as ever, and with a single motion, flicked open his belt with rough efficiency. The sound of the leather slipping free from the buckle echoed in the room, and for a moment, she felt the weight of his indifference, the way he took what he wanted from the world around him without so much as a second thought. His hand reached into his boxers with a questionable casualness and he pushed the waistband down, his cock sprung free, still soft.

Her gaze dropped briefly to his hands as they worked with the belt, and she felt the pull of that magnetism again. The way his casual disregard seeped into her like something heavy, like a storm that had always been present in the distance, but now, she could feel it just on the edge of her consciousness.

“You like this,” he said softly to her as if testing the very idea.

Her chest tightened with the truth of it, the words cutting through her carefully constructed walls. She didn’t understand, not completely. But she couldn’t bring herself to leave, to question the undeniable draw that kept her tethered to him.

“Come on.” He urged her to come closer, pushing his palm against his crotch, coaxing himself into arousal.

She obeyed, rising onto her knees with a grace he hadn’t expected. Her movements were fluid, almost ethereal, a contrast to the roughness that soon followed. His hand shot out, fingers tangling in her hair with a harsh, possessive grip, tugging her closer. A low groan escaped him as he leaned back against the sofa, his head resting against the plush fabric. His neck stretched, the muscles taut, and his Adam’s apple bobbed as he exhaled a breath that was somehow both strained and hollow.

"What are you waiting for?" he snapped, his impatience cutting through the silence. "Suck my dick, hm? Can you do that?." His words weren't a request or a suggestion, but an order, an unspoken expectation that she would comply, offering herself as a way to ease his tension. There was no room for negotiation in his voice, only the weight of his need.

Her tongue flicked at his tip, his lack of arousal coaxed her on. Making her more desperate to please him. She used her tongue, swirling it in lazy circles until he was hard.

Her eyes locked on his, gaging his reaction. He was emotionless until she took him in her mouth, hollowing out her cheeks until he brushed the back of her throat. His fingers tightened, moving her, using her. He bobbed her head, fucking her mouth, his hips lifted from the sofa to brush the back of her throat, causing her to gag and splutter. His pace grew rougher, more relentless until he was groaning and panting.

He released her head with a swift motion, his fingers brushing through her hair before retreating. Without a word, he tapped his thigh, a simple gesture, but one that carried all the weight of his intent. She didn’t need to hear anything more. Her eyes met him for a moment, understanding passing between them without a single word spoken.

Without hesitation, she moved, gracefully shifting into position. Her dress rose as she climbed onto his lap, her movements fluid, almost as if she had anticipated this. The fabric of her dress whispered against the air as it gathered around her waist, and she settled in the space he had created for her. There was a quiet ease in the way she complied, as if this routine, this dance between them, had become second nature.

He grabbed her hips and brushed her clothed core over his aching cock, teasing himself. His fingers hooked into the waistband of her ruined panties and pulled them down, leaving not a second before he pushed his hips up, filling her completely. They contrasted each other even in the intimacy of moments like this, her sensitivity and responsiveness to everything he did and his lack of reaction to anything she did.

“Alex- Alex…” She whined, her voice cracking around the edges as she tried to adjust to his size, he didn't give her a chance, snapping his hips up, pulling her down to meet each thrust. Her moans filled the space and as her head fell against his shoulder they muffled into his skin.

His groans grow rougher, deeper, almost animalistic as he carelessly pounded into her, satisfying his needs before anyone else's. His hands remained firmly clamped on her hips, allowing minimal movement.

“Relax.” He purred. His voice was more mocking than comforting and his pace didn’t falter until he came, finishing with an unspoken cockiness, refusing to let a reaction slip from his lips. Filling her, brushing her walls with his tip, still thrusting until she finished too.

She crumbled in his arms, shuddering with him simultaneously. Her cries echoed through the empty house and once they're breathing had steadied in sync he gently pecked her forehead, filling her with a sense of warmth.

His hand tapped her head and he uttered firmly. “Off you go, clean yourself up, babydoll.” And of course, she complied.

a/n: uggghhh i hate this, i feel like i always have such a good concept in my head for fics and then i can't articulate it and it sounds so poorly written when i'm reading it back. Also, the actual smut is rushed because i decided to write that part tonight and then was getting tired but i wanted to finish it so i half arsed it, i got the inspo from 'Tolerate it' by Taylor Swift and the new recentsss, love you all millions 😘😘

[strawberrysainz]

paradise. carlos sainz jr (18+)

“ maybe it was a mistake asking your newly-single, extremely attractive childhood best friend to accompany you to an event. well, it happened anyway. ”

carlos sainz jr x fem!reader

a warning— nsfw!!!! please don’t interact with this work if you are under 18 🫶. alcohol consumption, profanity.

word count: 1.5k

wrote this one a bit differently — let me know if it works for ya or not xx

She called his name into the dim light of the passage of the house; she stared out at the first hint of the evening, the light catching her eyeshadow.

He peeked out from the door down the hallway, still fiddling with shirt buttons, hair damp. She smiles.

“Could you do up my dress?” She asks, and he nods, clearing his throat as he follows her back into the unfamiliar room to gaze into the full length mirror.

He finds himself thinking about her.

Her bare back is on display, and he blushed furiously as he studies the complicated hooks, slightly perplexed. He murmurs something about having much bigger hands than hers.

Her back flexes as she laughs, explaining something about a hook at the top which eases the process. His mind drifts far away as he studies the intimate picture of her back against the red silk, and she looks impossibly beautiful, her hair and her makeup. He has a small revelation he’s never had before, one she’s considered since she was fifteen, a childish longing that rushes throughout her body.

He manages to fumble his way up her back, brushing purposefully against it every few moments so he watches her skin become prickled at his touch. He enjoys it, slightly shocked at the feel of his pants tightening.

Eventually it’s finished, and she slides her arm around his waist momentarily as a thank you - the Arctic Monkeys are echoing out of her phone, he realised, Alex Turner’s voice achingly suggestive with the dark track.

He watches her bend down gently to put on her high heels before his mind drifts to a place that he is quickly scared out of by the thought of her father killing him if he found out. He mutters something about fifteen minutes before he rushes out the door, the music all he can hear.

❤️‍🔥🎶💃🪩🥀

She slides her arm around his waist as they exit the venue, the dark of the night making him taller and her more confident (but that might have had to do with three or four mixed drinks).

His hand grips her shoulder - she’s wearing his suit jacket, and her red lips move animatedly as they get to the car. His head is spinning with the shock of a newfound desire, and the way in which he knows her so well, so personally, makes it so much worse.

She laughs his name and hits his arm as he makes a joke about some people at the dance. She is staring at his hands on the steering wheel, lips parted slightly with the heaviness of want, eyes fluttering shut. He is achingly pretty in the dark.

She talks a bit more, the energy in the car thick, but not awkward. He murmurs something about how beautiful she looked today, and she smiles to herself with pink cheeks as she looks down at the pictures they took together. There’s one - he’s staring at her while she is laughing at the camera - that makes her feel strangely warm.

She picks some other generic ones - both smiling into the camera, smiling at each other - and sends it to both of their mothers. She adds one to her Instagram story, of her on her tiptoes kissing his cheek as he smiles at the camera warmly. People immediately start to reply to it, and a notification comes in as his mom writes something about how lovely they look with lots of emojis.

He talks then, about drama of people they both know, and she talks about the plans they have made for the rest of the week at his apartment, and they collaborate on a groceries list; she listens to the pauses in his voice, the smooth Spanish and the accented English, the roughness of his tone. He is a work of art, a soft, sweet man she has adored since she was a toddler, tripping over the grass, gasping for breath, him breezing by.

Eventually they’re back at this familiar home, and she has a fleeting thought of a dinner with him, coming back to their home, their kids, dogs, lovers, kissing…

She shakes her head, trying to snap out of it. This isn’t possible. He’s vulnerable, he has been broken up with.

He locks the front door and says her name quietly, and she turns around from the second step of the stairs, and she turns around, sliding the blazer off. The silk makes her look amazing, he reckons, a bit foggy with desire, and her heels click as she shifts to the other foot.

She tilts her head to the side; he has a fleeting desire to kiss her neck, holding back a groan at how gorgeous she looks. Carlos? She says quietly, and the straining in his dress pants, the innocent look on her face, it’s all too much.

He kisses her.

The sheer shock of his lips - this boy she’s known since she was still in nappies - against hers makes her gasp, which turns into some kind of relieving moan, which makes him grab her waist desperately.

She runs her hands through his hair, tugging a little; he moans into her hot mouth. She wraps her arms around his neck as he taps her hips - she jumps and squeals as he goes up the stairs, wrapping her arms around his hips. She feels him half hard beneath her - she smirks with satisfaction- and as they barely make it to the kitchen he puts her on the counter, kissing her softly.

He begins to unbutton his shirt as she shoves her bag and his blazer across the counter, and she is met by his lips again; she runs hands over his firm chest with a dirty smile. Her breath hitches as he runs a hand slowly, up and up her thigh, and she boldly gets off the counter to take off her dress, the silk sliding easily. She’s left in just her underwear, and no bra, and he is staring at her, eyes dark, lips parted.

She moves over to the couch after he does, moving to be on top of him, and she dry rides him for a second - his breath catches in his throat - before she leans in to kiss his neck. He is reaching for her, his lips going to meet a nipple in his mouth.

She’s whining sweetly, the noise going straight to his dick, and then she moans nearly pornographically when he sucks, and she’s wriggling beneath him, muttering a curse in Spanish- it’s a sound he could have never dreamed of hearing.

He continues for a short while until she’s moving to pull his cock out of his pants - a short pump makes him squirm under her touch. She lets him hold her hair back as she bends down to have him in her mouth. He grips her head, moaning at the sight of her red lips around him.

She’s nearly got him at the edge- it’s fucking embarrassing, noting that she’s only been at it for a minute or so - so he gently pushes her off him, going to slide off her panties, brushing her thighs, kissing them, breathing something about how sexy she is, and she’s writhing with pleasure as he pushes her back and his tongue makes her hands fumble, tugging his hair, her sweet moans make him more frantic, and her taste on his tongue, she’s whispering rapidly, that lipstick all over his chest, neck, dick, face…

Soon enough she’s moaning loudly, all wriggly in a way that makes him faint with desire, cumming on his tongue, and he continues to eat her out religiously, tasting her greedily, until she’s pushing him away with a gasp.

He scrambles for a condom in his wallet thrown on the coffee table.

After a moment, he moves to position himself to enter her- he looks down at her- to confirm - and she nods desperately, still flushed from her orgasm, hair splayed out, lipstick messy, eyes blown wide, staring at him. He leans in to kiss her, filled by an unusual warmth at their intimacy. She sinks down on his cock, her being overstimulated and him so, so desperate to feel her, results in them both moaning; she sticks her head in the crook of his neck as she rides him, kissing his neck, and he involuntarily thrusts up; she begins to moan as he hits a spot inside her she hasn’t felt before.

He kisses the top of her head - and they’re both too naïve to know that anything casual does not at all go like this - he’s thrusting and she’s moaning, whimpering, screaming his name as the long, thick strokes have them both seeing stars, her hands on his chest as they find each other.

He whispers promises of not much longer and she kisses him instead as he comes- the motion and the gasping, and the rough, quick, hard stuttering of his body makes her come too, and they both have their heads in the crook of each other’s necks as they breathe heavily; he finds her pretty lips with his stained red.

They don’t move at all, instead making out on the couch - she can never look at that couch the same again - and he bites her lower lip as she stares at him, wondering if their lives could ever be the same again.

For better or worse, they would not.

a LOT of yall have been asking for smut so i’ve given it a go haha. lmk your thoughts please, hope you enjoyed.

masterlist

don’t you dare be a silent reader. like. reblog. comment. follow 🍓❤️‍🔥

[mywritingonlyfans]

One For The Road. // Mentor!Alex Turner X FreshSinger!Reader (Smut) Part 1

Prompt: (Age Gap Fic;Fem!Reader) Alex is on an extended hiatus from the band and finds himself wanting to start a studio to recruit new talent. One day, he hears a voice on the radio that captivates him, so he jots down the name and, with that voice stuck in his head, searches for it on Google. When he finds you, you both decide to work together for your growth, setting off a journey filled with new melodies, issues with paparazzi and online exposure, and Alex being completely smitten with his latest discovery and love.

Words: 9,5K

A/N: The fic was planned in three chapters: before the recognition (fame), during the recognition (fame), and after the recognition (fame).

Alex felt fulfilled, both physically and emotionally; he didn’t need any additional elements to complete his sense of satisfaction. During the band's extended break, due to various factors like other members' children and James admitting that a break would be beneficial, Alex found himself contemplating new possibilities. Unable to step away from music entirely, he set up a studio and handled other bureaucratic aspects for future artists. This was his way of giving back to an industry that had been so rewarding for him.

He didn’t know much about the artist he was suddenly into, only that sabe was a young girl with a captivating presence. Alex had heard your voice in the car before visiting Miles. It had a numbing effect on him, in a good way, leaving him sitting in the parked car after arriving, gazing out the window and absorbing every word you sang as if they were drops of water in the desert. It was strange, but it was exactly what he needed.

Your voice was raw with potential but still unrefined—you were not bad, just clearly new. The lyrics were sweet and nostalgic, evoking feelings that seemed foreign yet familiar. Alex found your work mature in a way he hadn’t been when he first started making music. He couldn’t picture your face, hair, or preferred style, but your voice lingered in his mind; the breaths, pauses, sometimes resembling soft and failed sighs, were compelling.

After the song ended, he stared at the radio display, waiting for your name to be announced. He quickly grabbed a notebook to jot down before he could forget.

Alex briefly mentioned you during dinner with Miles, running his fingers through his hair absentmindedly. His friend could tell that you had affected him in some way. "Just a girl, huh? How many times have you listened to her songs, Al?" Alex was usually romantic in his descriptions, this time he swore he had been succinct—though he felt he had failed. As the visit was coming to an end, all he could think about was your voice; he had to share you with someone else.

"Not many," he admitted honestly, though it wasn’t very convincing. Miles laughed, indicating he would listen later. His friend's recommendations were always reliable.

…

Finding you on the internet wasn’t easy. Alex had written down the wrong surname, which delayed his search longer than anticipated. You had no professional recordings, and later Alex discovered that the radio segment he had heard was an exclusive broadcast for new artists. All he found were amateur videos on YouTube of you singing in some pubs, with poor audio quality that didn’t do you justice. He listened to them repeatedly over the next few days.

The videos with better resolution were watched more often, and although Alex feared it might be due to your angelic face, he tried to avoid focusing on the fact that you were younger than him–perhaps more than he could point out. Nevertheless, as he closed his eyes before sleeping, he often imagined you from the video of your channel, wearing that summer wine dress with the straps slightly falling off. He imagined gently adjusting them with his finger, smoothing your hair while your calm eyes followed him. Your head falling affectionately into the caress of his palm and a brief wet kiss to your temple as your eyelashes flutter; not that he thought he would have such an effect on you.

It was indescribable how your voice occupied his mind more than anything else. He found himself humming snippets of your lyrics in the shower, while cooking, every end of the day. When he called Miles the next weeknd, his friend knew exactly what to expect.

…

You were delicate, and the words flowed from your lips effortlessly. Indeed, the cameras, the analog look, and the audio from the YouTube recordings didn’t do justice to what it was like to experience you live. There were few people, mostly around your age, though some appeared older with their doubtful expressions. It was a pleasant environment.

He watched you from a distance, neither too far nor too close. Wearing a white collared shirt, jeans, and a brown jacket, he kept his sunglasses on even at night to avoid being easily recognized. Occasionally, he slid the glasses down his nose to get a clearer view of you without the lenses.

You held the microphone gently, as if it weighed nothing, intertwining the cord between your fingers and taking small steps across the makeshift, tiny stage. Most people were distracted, but many took a moment to watch and listen to your music. Sometimes your voice faltered, and he noticed your disappointment, but you were so endearing.

You wore white tights and a black dress with a Peter Pan collar; Alex thought it suited you perfectly. He adjusted the edges of his shirt peeking out from under his jacket, a reflex of how your fingers nervously fidgeted with the fabric of your dress on stage. He smiled sweetly, as if hoping you could see and feel encouraged by it. You were doing well.

At the end, which was marked by silence following your thanks, he began clapping, soon joined by everyone else. You tried not to look around too much, not expecting the applause, and Alex was pleased to see you so happy.

You held a glass in your hand, chatting with the guitarist. Alex could easily see himself playing guitar alongside you in that dimly lit place filled with long, whispered conversations that created an intimate atmosphere. The guitarist nudged you, indicating Alex standing in front of you. When you turned, Alex felt his palms sweating and had to hide them in his pockets. You were even more beautiful up close; your posture wasn’t perfectly straight, but he noticed your charming walk and had to avoid smiling.

Alex felt more awkward than a teenager talking to girls, and he wasn’t proud of it. You greeted him with a warm smile, and before he could say anything, he knew you were as warm as you looked. “I enjoyed your performance up there. You sing really well, and the original lyrics are great. You’re very talented.” The compliment came out smoothly because he had practiced it many times. He felt his face flush, knowing he was fully red.

You bit your lips, offering a shy smile and resting your fingers right around the edges of your dress. Alex found this to be an adorable habit of yours. If he could, he would have held your hand and provided some distraction from whatever you were thinking. You thanked him, unsure of what to do or say but sincere nonetheless. When Alex offered a drink, he noticed your hesitation, but there wasn’t anything better for you to do than share a drink with someone who, for reasons you couldn’t quite place, seemed familiar. He was being nice.

“I don’t think anyone has ever come to see me sing so well-dressed,” you said, your eyes sparkling. Alex felt that in a few hours, you’d be more comfortable around him.

Noticing your assessment of his outfit, you could tell it wasn’t cheap; the fabric of his button-up shirt was well-tailored, the collar had a unique design, and the jacket was definitely leather. Not that you knew much about such things, but you didn’t see many like that.

Alex saw you enveloping your hands and didn’t think twice before taking off his jacket and draping it over you. Fingers touched your icy skin and he wished he had noticed sooner. You didn’t resist, your expression showed that you needed it; you merely nodded in thanks. “Don’t you think you deserve it?” Alex hadn’t intended it to sound flirtatious, but he realized it as soon as the words left his mouth. You shook your head, giving a half-hearted laugh.

He considered apologizing, but you continued, “I think it’s nice to think that someone would dress up to see me here, you know? To know that you’d come to see me sing and then anticipate it throughout the day, even considering what outfit would be most suitable or comfortable. It’s kind.” You were much more eloquent than he was, your words flowed naturally.

You sighed in relief, snuggling into the leather and tucking your hands into the long sleeves. Alex felt his chest warm up. You gestured animatedly while speaking, clearly excited, and probably didn’t even notice when your knees brushed together and stayed there in a pleasant touch that made him not want to move. “Well, if it helps, I heard you on the radio the other day and wanted to see you in person.” He breathed between his words, his voice deepening with the pauses.

You nodded, brushing off the compliment, not because you disliked it but because you didn’t want to deal with it. “I like your accent; it makes you sound older than you are.” Your shoulders brushed together, casually but comfortably, a result of your restlessness. There was a brief silence as you both listened to each other’s calm breathing amidst the background noise of drinks.

Maybe the contact was what mattered; Alex hadn’t planned this poorly. Despite his struggle with succinct communication, he explained the record label project, detailing the steps and what could be done if you wanted to pursue something more professional. At some point, you stopped listening to him, your eyes wandering over his dark hair cascading in beautiful waves, the furrow between the eyebrows, his perfectly shaped mouth, and the stubble that was starting to grow. He gestured less than you did, but his large yet delicate hands made him seem like a Christmas ornament, like men in '80s movies or even a younger Al Pacino.

“I’m listening, but I wouldn’t have the money for it; I can’t even afford a guitar. I play in pubs because I can use their instruments; they don’t pay well, and sometimes it’s just beer and food.” You spoke honestly, without bitterness about how it limited your dreams. You had the purity of someone who believed it was for you. Someone bumped into your chair, causing Alex to steady it, which brought your bodies closer together. He could now distinguish the exact color of your eyes and the scent of your hair. His mouth went dry. “That’s my point; you get paid so I can help you get heard and recognized for your work.”

…

"Did you set up the record label for the girl?" Miles carried a hint of truth, though he knew it was initially Alex’s idea, and you were the final touch that made it happen.

"It’s not like that, she’s really good. You’ll meet her." Alex’s voice carried warmth and anticipation; in a few months, you’d be fully immersed in this with him.

"And does she know what’s going on in your head? Like, the reason for your soft tone and silly grin when you mention her name? I might be wrong, but it doesn’t seem like you’re just thinking of her as a musician, Alex."

He shook his head, as if Miles could see him. "It’s nothing. I just want to help her with this. Besides, I’m not at that stage; we don’t fit in the same place." The idea of putting all that into words hurt a little.

The conversation continued, as if that settled the matter, both on the call and in real life. But Miles’s final words were, "Alex, I’m sure this will hurt her more than it will hurt you; you don't deal well with reason, your feelings will get in the way.”

And though it stung, it might be true—something to consider with concern. But would it really be so bad to spend all that time with you?

…

You learned who he was and thought it might be a scam, but a simple Google search left you stunned. You clearly knew the band, just not his exact current appearance; it certainly wasn’t like in the “Cornerstone” video, but the more recent ones fit the style of a dad with a six-year-old daughter, which was pleasant. Your friends were happy for you, even if they were as incredulous as you.

“It’s quite big; will more people be coming here?” Your voice echoed through the studio, your fingertips freezing. You’d arrived a few weeks ago and had some singing lessons Alex had arranged with another professional, but from then on, you feared he would be your sole tutor.

“For now, yes, but later there’ll be more people.” You nodded, hands in the pockets of your dress. LA was hot, he was killing you with that air conditioning. He had shown you every corner, you felt quite comfortable; the place had guitars on the wall, basses, and a drum set from that inaccessible brand. You stood in front of him, looking like a lost child, genuinely waiting for what to do next. It took him a moment, but he understood.

“Okay, I didn’t plan this out too well,” he laughed softly. He mentioned having read the songs you sent, even though he had heard them before, now he knew the exact lyrics. “Is it okay if I use the equipment?” Your question was followed by the tips of your fingers touching one of the microphones and holding the headphones, waiting for his response.

“Feel free to use whatever you want, little one.” Your cheeks were warm, making you bite the bottom of them. You looked confused at the buttons; they were just buttons with no informative labels. Alex had forgotten that this was familiar only to him. “Sure, it’s a good idea to get you familiar with everything first, then we can see what to do.” It sounded like a good idea.

The time passed quickly; what took hours, with Alex, seemed like minutes. Sometimes silence would fall over you both, but it was so comfortable. He had a pleasant voice, explaining things as if they weren’t intuitive, and you could visualize them. You liked it. His hair was longer than the last time you saw him, falling into a cute fringe over his eyes, which shone brightly as he spoke and gestured. He wore a suit and a button-up shirt, making no sense given the amount of fabric he was wearing in the LA sun.

“It’s pretty heavy, Turner,” he had given you a red guitar with white detailing, the side bearing his last name. It had clearly been through some battles but was beautiful. Alex found your pronunciation of the “r” endearing, rolled on your tongue and lingering. No one called him that around; it could be your thing. The guitars you had played were lighter, less durable.

“You can play if you want. You can also make it your own; it’s a good idea to get used to a specific one for now.” You listened, wondering why you wanted him to call you “little one” again. You held the strap, looking at the floor. “I don’t know how to play,” your voice was weak, your fingers pressing the strings without making any sound. He nodded, understanding you.

“What don’t you know, little one?” His face was calm, as if it didn’t cross his mind that you might be a fraud. His body was positioned behind yours, and you felt your heart racing; you were sure he could hear it. He placed his hand on the neck of the guitar, adjusting some strings.

What happened was: you would hum melodies, your friends would map out the notes, next you had them with you.

“I only remember my songs, which are few. I memorized them with the help of some friends at the pub.” You didn’t like how that sounded. You stepped back without thinking, bumping into Alex’s firm chest. He held your waist, noticing your nervousness. You still smelled the same as before.

“There’s nothing wrong with that; no one is born knowing. I learned a lot from the first album ‘til now; we can work on that if you want.” You heard the guttural sound he made when speaking slowly in your ear, dangerously close. “Do you want to try something?” he asked, a little before plucking a small segment of one of your songs. Alex had heard it so much that he had memorized the chords. You found it strange but ignored it; controlling your breathing was more complicated.

“I don’t know, Turner,” he laughed, the pleasant nasal sound close, with his blazer rubbing against your bare arms. He took your hands in his, guiding your fingers as he wanted, explaining each string press and brief sound. It took some time, and due to your anxiety, it seemed to take longer than usual.

“It doesn’t seem to sound very good,” you impulsively turned your face to look at him. His eyes, which had been on your hands, moved to your face, and it was closer than you had experienced before. “But it will, you know?” He smiled, his slightly crooked lower teeth noticeable to you, as well as the light beard scars and age lines around his eyes. God, he was so beautiful.

“You’re doing well, lil’ one; you just need to relax and be more patient.” You felt your fingers ache, pulling your hands slightly away from Alex’s. “You trust me a lot.” He noticed the superficial cut, the tips of your fingers bruised a bit, pretty normal, and you seemed quite calm about it. “Shouldn’t you? Trust yourself? I haven’t seen anything in you so far that doesn’t show how good you are at what you do...” The sentence was lost, somewhat unformed, but you wished he would talk about you like that more often. He took your finger, drying it with the edge of his shirt, which had become slightly reddened, and pressed until it stopped. It was hard not to just look at him. Your cold hands made Alex make a mental note that you weren’t a big fan of the air conditioning or that maybe your clothes were too short and thin.

…

On the same night, before heading back to the hotel, Alex suggested you two could go out to eat together as a way to spend more time talking. Since you’d spent hours at the studio and he hadn’t thought to offer you food or water, he chose a more relaxed place, reminiscent of the pubs where he knew you performed—live music and cozy lighting.

Upon arrival, you felt the chill against your arms. Alex laughed. You hadn’t seen him take off his blazer, but you noticed his attentive gaze as he draped it over your shoulders. It was a comforting relief. “I can control the studio’s temperature, but most places ‘ere are air-conditioned; you’ll end up feeling cold,” he said. You didn’t respond, only pondering whether Alex would always have a jacket or blazer for you if you never wore one. You liked his scent on you and the respectful way he looked at you, you hated that your thoughts were not as innocent.

As you sat across from him, there was little distraction, and you knew it would be a challenging time—more accurately, a journey to be honest, regardless of what happened next. He had loosened more buttons due to the heat. The collar was pressed against his rosy skin, neck chain attached to his sweat, and his eyes were on you, making your stomach flutter. Your foot brushed against his calf under the table, you couldn’t look at him. He smiled pleasantly as usual, the distinctive nasal sound of his laugh remaining soothing, despite the feelings he stirred in you. Your foot found comfort there, resting against him; neither of you moved.

“It smells nice; what is it?” he asked before you put away your pink tube of moisturizer.

“It’s peach,” you replied, sounding a bit excited. You wanted to talk but felt that besides your music, you might not be interesting to him, even though you felt there was something desirable in that; even if you didn't see yourself that way.

“The scent is great; it makes me less tense, Turner,” you said. You took his hand in yours. They were larger and calloused—something your fingers should be. You applied a drop of cream, massaging his hand with focus on each callus and prominent vein.

The sensation was light for him (even for you); your nails brushed against his wrist with a pleasant tickle. Taking your time, you smoothed out the creases in his poorly folded shirt, rebuttoned it, and adjusted the fold to what Alex would consider the perfect height. Your touch was gentle, and there you were, right in front of him, with your shoulders covered by his blazer. He noticed the strap of your dress was a little crooked, but you were nestled in something warm. Alex cherished everything about that realistic snapshot.

When you finished, you noticed his attention was on your face. You smiled slightly, as did he. You were in complete silence, yet every minute counted.

The food arrived shortly, and you didn’t need to question it. He simply whispered a “thank you, little one” to you as you curled into his blazer a bit more. He was hoping it would carry your scent by the end of the night.

The atmosphere remained the same—you both enjoyed each other's company, evident in the unspoken comfort between you. The air felt light in your lungs, yet breathing was easy and relaxed. Alex wasn't particularly hungry, but seeing your bright eyes and inevitable smile with every bite you took, he couldn't help savoring his food as well. You made him feel good; he realized just how true that was.

He gently brushed the corner of your mouth with his clean thumb, wiping away a small smudge. You followed his movement intently, reflexively cleaning the spot afterward. For a brief moment, Alex considered bringing his thumb to his lips out of instinct, but quickly caught himself, realizing the weight of the gesture, and instead wiped it off with a napkin. He thought about apologizing, but feared it would make things awkward.

However, you continued to look at him, your face full of color, the atmosphere just as comfortable and inviting as before. It wasn't a mistake for you; you liked the tingling sensation his touch left on your skin.

…

The weeks passed effortlessly; neither of you avoided the other. Occasionally, you both made your way down from your rooms together for dinner at the hotel restaurant or to have a drink. Conversations came easily. At first, Alex felt uneasy about how you didn’t smoke during routine activities, which made him uncomfortable for not being able to cut back on the habit himself. However, over time, he grew used to it and eventually stopped smoking around you, finding that he missed it less.

Sometimes, nights at the studio would deliberately stretch late, with Alex fine-tuning guitars that didn’t really need it or you attempting to replicate familiar songs on the drums, under the guise of practice. The truth was, even though you both knew you didn’t truly need each other, you still made an effort to be close to one another, whether in quiet moments or during busier times.

"Y’know, oldie. We moved it all online…” You mentioned it when you opened your eyes and noticed Alex annoyed by the droplets from his hair dripping onto his newspaper.

You couldn't pinpoint where the idea came from, but you understood his priority in not overwhelming you—imagining how a poor work dynamic could fall into the hands of bad journalists. In the end, that led you both to the beach, enjoying the refreshing breeze that made the sun less intense.

Your comment drove him to give up on the newspaper and just look at you. He couldn't look at you casually or quickly, he was getting used to that. Behind his sunglasses and cap, he felt like he was taking advantage by noticing the thin strap of your bikini and the ties and lace that drove him to think of other pieces. He took a deep breath, sinking into the lounge chair, like in romantic comedies that end well. You brushed your knee against his, drawing his attention back to you (yes, you were sharing the only remaining chair meant for couples—neither of you even knew such a thing existed).

Alex quickly realized he was blushing, feeling the heat in his cheeks when he got you had noticed him staring at you. "Do you need sunscreen? I didn't see you apply any yet," you asked, getting ready for your second layer, while Alex hadn’t put on any. "How disgraceful, Turner. You hardly seem like an older man." He rolled his eyes at your amusement.

His hair was tousled by the wind. His face had a radiant glow at you. You put some of it in his hand, and he began to apply it to his sun-kissed cheeks and nose, a bit of it smudging into his hair. You couldn’t help but laugh at the scene, his clumsy hands more likely to smear than spread the lotion properly. "Alright, Tur, let me handle this." You moved closer, your cool fingertips touching his skin and discarding the sunglasses. He caught the scent of peach as it drifted on the breeze, smiling softly as you smiled at him. Your gentle touch grazed his cheeks, finding comfort in the rough texture of his beard, which made you scrunch your nose in a playful smile that turned into a quiet laugh. Letting himself relax, Alex closed his eyes as you smoothed the excess lotion onto his neck. He wished he didn’t enjoy that closeness, but he did, and he had no intention of denying it.

You cleaned the stray strands of hair and lightly traced your thumb up the bridge of his nose, pausing briefly between his eyebrows. Alex sighed in contentment, his lips parting slightly, you felt even more at ease. Before he could open his eyes, you stepped back, slathering more sunscreen into your hands, then pressed your palms against his soft shoulders and just above his chest. He gave you a funny look, but before anything else could happen, you pulled away. "Rub it in," you instructed, noting his slight confusion. "And turn around. I'm going to apply it on your back." Touching his warm, velvety skin felt therapeutic. He shared that same sentiment. Was this how cats felt when they kneaded with their paws? It was just as comforting.

Alex felt the same when his fingers touched your back in return. The silence weighed on him, with only the pulsing of his veins echoing in his ears. Yet, you smiled peacefully, eyes closed and lower lip caught between your teeth as you lay on your stomach. He massaged your skin with sunscreen, convinced that this was a laborious task. Your muscles relaxed under his touch, and he noticed a foolish smile creeping onto his lips.

He gently moved the delicate strap of your bikini aside, making sure to cover every inch, no matter how thin the material was. His palm brushed your hair away from the nape of your neck, and for a long moment, he imagined kissing your sensitive skin, hearing your sighs at a playful bite, letting out the repetitive thoughts that were always about you stuck in his mind. He had memorized your scent, longed to immerse himself in you until your peaches became his, something only he could experience–no one else, not even the stupid boys your age (especially them). He followed the same ritual on your neck, sighing to himself as he acknowledged how addictive your skin was there; you were highly addicted.

"Wait a minute," you murmured, your words drawn out and languid, almost like failed moans that would fade into silence. Your delicate fingers fumbled with his as you pulled the bikini string down, revealing more of your skin, though not in an obscene way. Even though his gaze was heavy in a way that it wasn't entirely clear. Soon, the piece was no longer there, but the view was limited by the way you were lying.

Understanding his place, he lightly rubbed sunscreen over the exposed area, subtly moving down your waist and barely grazing your hips. He felt as if he were touching porcelain, afraid that any poorly thought-out movement might shatter you. He gave your flesh a final gentle squeeze, and your abdomen contracted at the loss, accompanied by a soft murmur. Returning to his position, Alex chuckled to himself as he noticed how you kept your head closer to the towel you used as a pillow, your body not moving a single millimeter. It was then that he realized the process had taken longer than expected, you had fallen asleep.

He pulled his cap down over his face, a bit embarrassed, even though you couldn't see him. Adjusting his sunglasses back in place, he quietly watched you, taking in your calm breathing and relaxed posture. He took his own shirt, wrapping it over you, deciding that you had been in the sun long enough. He didn't touch you, knowing you were still asleep, but couldn't resist briefly brushing his fingertips against his lips and gently moving the strands of hair that covered your face. His gaze sharpened instinctively, and while he knew how to handle it if he were alone, you didn't deserve that side of his life.

It was quick—just a fleeting moment, a feeling of being watched, though he didn't hear any cameras or whispers. He didn't want to risk dismissing the thought, even if he couldn't see anyone nearby. Slowly, yet without hesitation, he gently called your name, softly stroking your arm. You responded by murmuring his name, manipulating a warm and soft sound, making him wonder if you were conscious of his presence or merely dreaming—of him. It took a while, but Alex remained patient until your eyes opened, startled. He then placed the cap on your head, carefully cradling you in his arms, being cautious not to disorient you further as he buttoned his shirt on you, doing so with as little awkwardness as possible. Despite touching your skin, he never once looked anywhere but your face, waiting for your arms to slip into the sleeves until you looked somewhat presentable.

"We're going to walk to the car, alright? It'll be quick," he said, his voice concerned, firm, and reassuring. He knew what he was doing, hoping to minimize the damage. You simply nodded, resting your tired cheek on his shoulder, and he chuckled softly. "Can you put on my sunglasses, please, little one?" You gave a sweet smile, making him internally berate himself for putting you in this situation. He placed the sunglasses on you, guiding your hands with his own, and kept you close. "Shall we? It'll be quick, promise and you can sleep on the way to the hotel, huh?" You appreciated his calm demeanor, respecting your groggy mood after just waking up.

He grabbed your bag, abandoning any attempt to save the newspaper, and drove his hand on the small of your back. Leaning into him for comfort, you felt him hold you tighter. Instinctively, you nuzzled your face into his chest, only to hear him say, "Okay, just don't get too close to her, alright?" His heart pounded against your ear, and you heard the sound of camera clicks. You didn't want to, nor could you, open your eyes. You couldn't make sense of the noise; the person continued taking photos, asking questions, and you couldn't tell if there was more than one of them.

Alex opened the car door, firmly guiding you until you were seated inside. He gently stroked your hair, noticing how visibly shaken you were. He quickly kissed your forehead. It was a brief, hurried gesture, one you wished you had more time to savor. You held onto his arm, unable to speak. "I'll close the door and come around; I'll be right beside you, and we'll head to the hotel, okay?" He was frustrated, angry, but it wasn't directed at you; he didn't want you to see these feelings of his. He should have been more careful, knowing that this was possible even with the band being on a break, but he had been careless.

Once inside the car, with the windows tinted completely black, ensuring no one could see in, he reached for your hand as he started the engine, holding it tightly as you looked at him, dazed, avoiding looking outside. "Does this happen often?" you asked, your voice small. His throat tightened with an irrepressible knot; he hadn’t considered how foreign all this was to you.

…

Alex’s head throbbed, the furrow between his eyebrows deep with tension. You sat on the edge of the bed, hands clasped between your thighs, eyes filled with unshed tears as you looked at him. He had used his connections, calling to inform them of the situation and to request the removal of any photos of you from gossip sites if they had already been posted. He was told on the phone that it would be handled, which confirmed that the images had likely been uploaded.

Alex chose to make the call in the hallway, asking you to go ahead to the room, not wanting you to hear and worry more than you might have already. But as soon as he entered, it was clear you had seen something. Your fingers played with the hem of his shirt, lost in thought, and guilt washed over him.

"I can listen to you, pretty one," he said, his voice soft, showing a rare vulnerability as he assured you that he was there with you. He wanted to hear you out, to relieve any burden weighing on your shoulders.

"I know this happened because you’re well-known," you replied, swallowing hard as you struggled to find the right words. Alex waited, kneeling in front of you between your legs, his fingers lightly brushing your skin. He didn’t know exactly what to do, but hoped he could offer some comfort. The touch didn’t feel like a mistake—it was a natural act of reassurance, though the proximity made him feel conflicted. Yet, considering the situation, it seemed right.

"I’m really sorry, truly. It was careless of me," he apologized, his tone sincere. You shook your head, gently cupping his face in your hands, pushing his hair back. His warm, caramel eyes focused on you, filled with concern as you teetered on the edge of tears, a feeling he feared he didn’t fully understand.

"Tur, I might sound stupid, but—" You hesitated, then he responded with his usual tenderness, drawing you closer. Your legs wrapped around him, your arms holding him tight. He stroked your hair, helping you find comfort against him. The towel draped over his shoulders—since he had given you his shirt and didn't feel like walking around the hotel shirtless—slipped to the floor, and having his warmth was enough for you.

"If they like the album, which I really hope they do, and with all the pre-album promotion as an artist... I don’t want to sound ungrateful, huh, like, this whole journey with you has been amazing, but is it going to be normal to have so many people talking ‘bout me? Pictures of me without my consent? And comments about my appearance?" You couldn’t look at him, which made it easier for you to speak coherently without feeling embarrassed about opening up.

It was so much to process, and Alex hadn’t considered it from that angle. After all, he was the one who had brought you into this situation, both in the moment and for the long haul. You were young, and he didn’t want you to go through what he had at your age. He could have prevented this, but now you were caught up in it.

He kissed your forehead, then your eyelids, realizing just how intimately right—and wrong—this all felt. It was inevitable, and it shouldn’t have been. He pulled back slightly, only to give in when you tightened your hold, snuggling closer. You took his hand and placed it on your waist, your way of asking him for it to take longer, seeking more of his embrace. He chuckled softly, needing it just as much.

There wasn’t much to say. "I think you know the answer, little one. I wish it wasn’t like this either. I’m sorry for introducin’ you to this.”

Alex’s hands slid up and down your back, gripping the fabric and holding you tightly against him. Your sigh was one of relief, drawn out, so sweet. He cupped your chin, lifting your head to meet his gaze. Your cheeks were damp, and he offered a small, uncomfortable smile.

“It’s okay,” you said weakly, trying to sound more composed than you felt. “It’s not your fault, Turner. I don’t think that, and I don’t regret being here with you. I’m just scared of everything that’s going to come with this, especially since I never really thought about it before.” Your words seemed distant, but even in your emotional state, you were eloquent.

Alex didn’t know exactly what to expect either; things had changed since 2008. He remembered the Humbug era being the worst, with all the attention from MTV. His tongue rested on the roof of his mouth as your fingers found a home at the nape of his neck, gently tugging at the fine hairs, much like you do with the hem of your shirt when you’re anxious. It soothed you. Your eyes lowered to his chest, and you realized it was the first time you’d hugged him this longer, and he was shirtless. You liked everything about it—the warmth and the view you had.

He pulled the collar of your shirt toward him, bringing your face closer until his tiny beard tickled your skin. You looked at him, and he didn’t even try to hide the fact that he was staring right into your soul. You were beautiful with your red eyes and tear-streaked cheeks. Understanding what you were going through, he got you whispering amidst the chaos of finding the right words, “I can’t mess this up, Tur.”

He focused on your words, though he wanted to pull you into him even more, but he resisted, waiting for you to continue. “I want this too, I just don’t want you to think less of me, okay?” Your eyes welled up again, and as soon as you tried to lower your head, he gently lifted it back up, fully aware of what you were trying to convey. “I don’t want you to think I’m like this just because I’m interested in you. I don’t want you to see me as…” You paused, struggling with the words. He simply rested his forehead against yours, holding your face gently in his hands.

“I don’t think anything bad ‘bout you, lil’ one. I’ve never thought that way, and these are just your worries, you got me? Nothing changes the fact that I think you’re talented and competent, huh? That has nothing to do with how I see you as a professional. You don’t have to be afraid of that.” He was firm, his voice louder than usual. You took in every word, noting the roughness of his tone and the space between his lack of manners with sentences. He swallowed hard, his mouth slightly open, and you appreciated how patient he was with you, how well he seemed to understand that you needed this moment. Your fingers tightened on his, and then your lips met his. It was slow, and though you felt like you lacked experience, it was warm. He pulled you closer, every inch of you molding to him.

You started to pull away, embarrassed, feeling like maybe this wasn’t meant for you, but as soon as your lips began to leave his, he tugged your collar, bringing you back for a more urgent kiss, making it clear he had been waiting for this for a long time. You leaned back slightly, but he held you firmly, sensing how your body was softening against him. He chuckled into the kiss, and you felt his velvety tongue against yours, slowly being enveloped by wet, lingering kisses. The taste was salty from tears and the sea, you laughed at the thought of him being seasoned.

You brushed his fringe away, noticing how his cheeks were flushed and his lips swollen. You wanted more. You realized your brain hadn’t fully registered what it felt like to have his beard brushing against your face.

“Was it bad?” you asked, your voice barely audible. You couldn’t help but think about how Alex had been with many other women, while you could count on one hand the people you’d kissed in your life.

“Do you talk when you’re nervous?” His warm breath brushed against your skin, close enough to be unsettling. Before you could answer, he planted soft kisses on your lips, still making a slight sound and lingering just a bit. He tasted of mint, not quite of cigarettes. The tip of his nose grazed yours, and the subtle stubble on his face slid pleasantly against your cheek. When he pulled back, your natural reaction was to lean forward for more, which he didn’t resist, a playful smile on his lips as he let you set the pace. Your fingers seemed made for his hair, and Alex was sure of it. By the end, you were breathless, though he wasn’t quite as much.

“Okay, I need to breathe...through my nose while doing this.” He chuckled, pulling you close for a hug. You felt at ease with him, talking out of nerves, but it was clear it didn’t bother you. He liked that. “It’s not bad at all. It’s actually wonderful, pet.” He touched your nose and cheeks, his fingers tracing every feature, wanting to soak in each detail of you. “You’re beautiful,” he said. You nodded. He struggled to figure out if the way your eyes fluttered when he spoke to you like that was because of his voice or his compliments, yet he was determined to keep drawing those reactions from you.

He ran his calloused fingers up your thigh, stopping at your hips, squeezing them hard. Your nails dug into his shoulders in anticipation as your legs parted briefly, giving him better access and also making the fabric of your shirt give him more of a view. The bottom of your bikini was tight, very tight, leaving a mark on your skin and he ran his fingertips over the spot. You looked at him, thinking about how no one had ever looked at you like that; the mix of desire and actually seeing you as something more than that. You had written about it before, but never experienced it, and so you wondered about the possibility of Alex acting like that because he knew your writing. However, you didn't want to think badly of him, you wanted to enjoy it.

His gaze rose to meet yours, his tongue moistening his lips and the crease between his eyebrows deepening, was it fair that that alone made you wet? He didn't need to say anything, you confirmed what he wanted.

The attention lingered on your face, your heart racing at the serenity of how he undid the ties, getting rid of the piece. You couldn't move, taken by how delicate he was and his eyes on you didn't do the same, even though he didn't fail to contemplate you.

“Turner,” it was like a sob, a tiny sharp. His fingers touched your center, sighing as a way of savoring the moment, then he sank a little deeper, smearing his fingers and spreading them from your entrance to your clit to improve the sensation.

“It's all right, princess, I'm right ‘ere. I've got you, but we've got all the time in the world, so let's be patient, you're with me?" Each word was breathy and soft, difficult for you to string together, but you still repeated his last name in a pleading whisper.

He brushed two of his fingers against you, one of your legs lifting and bending at the knees, he laughed at your reactions but it was adorable, even though he was nothing much but his dark orbs. Respecting your body, he plunged his fingers deeper, sliding in easily. Your body gave in, your hands supporting you back and your moans getting hotter, you felt tighter but it still felt good.

"Relax, lil’ one. You can lie down, everything's fine, huh? You can just relax, no thoughts." His accent, full of patience, so familiar yet made you swallow hard. Alex’s fingers were damp, all along their length, carrying that blissful energy that comes with youth. Certainly, it could be said that you were not so used to that, the gap between doing something and thinking about it was great, given your state you had fantasized about it a few times; maybe you expected something he couldn't give you, but he was there for you.

He felt like an exception, he wasn't so young anymore, but he was acting like one. His fingers slid, you swallowed them completely, until your legs trembled a bit and he pulled back, only to repeat it all over again. He was touching you, getting to know you, and thinking about how he would be tasting your juices on his tongue in a few seconds, getting you ready to have him inside of you without any concern... He throbbed with each glimpse.

He couldn't deny that he had fantasized about you too, how he wanted to corrupt you while you were wearing your usual spaghetti strap dresses, hike them up to your waist and just pull down his pants to take you in the studio, have your voice fade away while instruments were thrown to the floor. He would get heavy, swollen with sensitivity in his underwear when he thought about you from time to time, refusing to do anything that bordered on disrespect, and even if he failed, he followed a ritual in his light groping, looking for relief, without letting himself get there as punishment. He never felt right thinking about you that way, but it seemed like a plausible moment to let himself be reminded of it.

Your eyes were closed, your face to the ceiling, your head pressed into the mattress in agony. You weren't expecting it, but your muscles clenched tighter into the sheets, this was new; you knew what it was, it just had never been like this. There were brief kisses on your wetness, noisy and messy, his hair brushed against your thigh and his hands were firmly on you. You had never seen yourself without thinking about anything, not literally, but your senses only hovered over how to be good for Turner so he could make you feel great.

For Alex, it was better than he remembered imagining. It was hard to breathe when all he could do was focus on keeping going, listening to your sweet whimpers for more. The vivid scent of peach filled his senses, your taste taking over his consciousness, everything felt so good.

He sank his tongue, contracting it hard so that it dissolved inside you and felt in honor how you dripped down the sides of his mouth. He held the edges of your shirt tightly, pushing you closer to him, his nose brushing against your clit while his whole face rubbed all over your folds with desire. Your fingers tightened in his hair, gripping hard as you called out his name, the words barely coherent. You focused on him with a dazed expression, your gaze hazy and unfocused. His face was serene, eyes closed in deep enjoyment, completely immersed in your taste. You shifted a little, although he soon forced you against the mattress so you wouldn't do that, wanting to feel his beard hurt your skin. In fact, boys your age, or at least your experiences, did that very quickly, as an obligation. Alex was not a boy.

"You're so addictive," your throat was dry. Alex hadn't even done half of what he had in mind with you; and you certainly couldn't handle it.

He turned his face away due to your trembling knees, holding your gaze to his. He wanted you to get there, but in another way. Still, he watched you as he pressed only the tips of his fingers on your clit, without movements other than those of your hips. “So smart and charming, is there anything you can't do?” You pulsed, electric current going through your entire body.

You didn't know what to do, your cheeks were burning and you could only moisten your lips, wanting the agonizing knot to disappear.

“Turner,” he laughed, the same nasal sound you loved. It was like a mantra, the repetition of the drawn-out last name coming out of you and the cocky laugh. “Please, I need it, I need you, Tur.”

He nodded, stiff and sore in his shorts, then stood up and pulled them off. He didn’t look in a hurry to you, it gave you a headache, but he was nice to look at; his pale skin, his slim waist, his shoulders red from your scratches and his reddened length. He was hot and well-endowed, good enough to make your mouth water.

"Have you done this before?" His friendly tone made you hate your thoughts, and also question if you actually had. His cheeks were flushed, as were his lips, and he swallowed hard while looking at you. You felt a bit embarrassed. "It's okay if you haven't, princess." You smiled softly, shaking your head. "A few times, but it was never good. But this time, it is." Alex understood; he didn't judge you and never would. He ran his hand through your hair, brushing it away from your face, then gently tugged at the collar of your shirt, pulling it slightly away from your skin. "Are your songs not based on your experiences?" You feared he might think that was a bad thing, but his voice didn't carry any judgment. "No..." You sighed, content with his touch and his body pressed to yours. "I don't think I've ever truly experienced love, at least not directly. But I like writing about how I hope it will be." His eyes were a bit misty, and he nodded. He found that meaning beautiful; it was a perspective he hadn't considered before. He didn't feel so distant from that, since he wrote about things he'd witnessed. "It's beautiful. You do it really well.”

He opened the buttons, one by one, taking his time. He revealed your body to him little by little, admiring your collarbone, the curve of your breasts and stomach. His lips touched every nuance, leaving a wet trail and a bite on the flesh below your perky nipple. You writhed with a shrill noise, your legs clinging to him, ready to feel him as he brushed against your thigh. Alex also moaned every now and then, much more restrained and full-bodied, so hoarse.

He held your face to him, preventing you from turning away. The weight of his body felt good, everything about Alex felt like being enveloped in calm; even though you didn't expect calm at that moment. He opened his mouth, perhaps as thirsty as you were, his tongue on the roof of his mouth, staring at you. Slow and precise, you had your muscles soften as he got warm and tight inside you. You swallowed greedily, wet as never before, taking every inch of him.

“Good pet, good girl.” You held onto him tighter, your eyes watering. He held your head, snuggling you close to him. "You're doing great, you're such a good girl, right? Focus on how I'm inside you, filling you to the brim, can you feel me, lil’ one?” He was hoarser, unavoidable not to pay attention. His voice really calmed you down, making it work, your legs rested slowly and you noticed he was more comfortable in you; fitting better.

He held your hand on top of your head, intertwining your fingers, letting you squeeze tightly. Your body rocked on the bed with the rhythm of his hips, the movement was slow, he let his entire length come out of you like that and then pressed harder so you could accommodate him all the way into your lower tummy. It was good, warm, it made you think of more and more until you felt your belly tingle. Alex had a prominent crease, his pink lips parted and he gasped along with you every time your bones collided. Unable to hold back, he sped up, letting you whisper a painful, "Thank you," which made him release your hand, gripping your wrist violently as his forehead fell onto your shoulder. You stained the back of his neck with bruises, wanting your fist to come out the same way.

Your hot breath came in short gasps, you tried to be coherent in shyly mumbling that he could come inside you; wanting to have him fill you to the last drop until you were exhausted. Which wouldn't be a problem, you took your precautions up to date.

The intensity of his body on yours was growing, similar to the arrival of guitar solos in a chorus; you had to close your eyes, really paying attention to how your walls squeezed him inside you. Your firm thighs around him, added to the strength with which he thrusted you, caused friction on your clit and you were becoming aware of your limits. You felt Alex hug you again, delicate arms around you, wetting your shirt in soft moans as he filled you warmly. The sensation, the noise, everything connected made you relieve yourself too, in a relaxation of having both liquids mixing, ready to run out of you. He slowed down, keeping the same ritual, making you feel your thighs sticky until he realized you were getting too sensitive with tears filling your pretty eyes, and it was better to stop.

There was the familiar, comfortable silence that always settled between you two, both of you immersed in each other's presence. The embrace was gentle yet firm. He was comfy, still inside you, pulsing a bit, but good. His hand moved in meaningful circles on your back, and you mirrored the motion on his arm. His hair was a mess, and you imagined yours probably was too. His swollen lips drew in air as before, making you contemplate the way his tongue rested against the roof of his mouth.

"Can you lick me, Tur?" You asked comfortably given the situation, feeling good all over his touch.

He ran his hand over your chin, looking at you, not finding it bad. You hesitated when you asked, but it seemed inevitable. He moistened his lips, touching the tip of his tongue to your mouth, right on the lower one, holding your face firmly and doing what you said. The velvety, wet touch ran down your lip and into your mouth, which made you smile slightly, holding him for a kiss. It was good, you had imagined that. He sucked your lip to himself, in a somewhat messy act of saliva, and you wanted to do it more often.

“You good?” It was a genuine intimacy, right after a few minutes of nothing but the pure sound of his heartbeat echoing in your ear. You couldn’t help but wonder if this would affect how professional he thought you were—after all, he was your mentor—but you didn’t want to bring that up now. Similarly, feeling the way his shirt clung to your body, brushing against his skin and stealing your scent, he wondered the same thing, afraid you might truly believe you weren’t talented enough due to the internet and that this had only made things worse in your mind. Yet, he didn’t know what to say; the silence felt safe. "I’m okay, Tur. Tired, but I don’t want to think about songs, albums, or what we’ll do in an hour right now." You nestled closer to him, kissing his cheek softly, then his neck. Your voice was laced with tears, and he wasn’t sure if it was about what happened minutes ago or the issue with the paparazzi, but he understood that you were vulnerable. He felt guilty, still processing everything. "I’m not going to leave you, little one. I’ll be ‘ere, to deal with this and remind you how good you are." He whispered into your hair that smelled of peaches. You believed him, and he made you see a future in all of this.

You could have him on the cover of your album.

...

taglist: taglist: @ohladymoon @indierockgirrl @bloo-wisteria @bellaturner @cosmicpiracy @nikisfwn @andrews-lovr @nela-cutie @alexturnersbbg3 @blackberryblossom @lilmisssweetdreams @alexshotelandcasino @tbhclove @rostarblog @babieswiftie @yourstartreatment @atticssmellgood @aacheinthejaw @mingods @theonlyoneswhoknowsblog @andulina567 @tonyxstanks @despairinthedeqarture @harrysbestiee @ultragirrl @lifewasawillow @viviannagiorgini @turnerside @seokjinluvb0t @solacestyles @humbuginmybones @gracieghost3695 @holssireland @trumanblacktreacle @lovelikethunder

¡forms/taglist!

[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!”

[t4rner]

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.”

[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. 🧡💛

[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

[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

[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.

[argumentativantitheticaldream]

READ HERE

[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!!

⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅

“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?”

⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅

[abiiors]

a midsummer night's dream - matty x reader ˚˖𓍢ִ໋`🔆:✧˚.🍉⋆𖧧🐚

a/n: i will be so honest, there is no plot. the plot is matty and bug being in love for 4.5k words. also alex turner cameo hehehe cw: i'm warning all of you that there's a lot of fade to black smut in this because writing smut is my mortal enemy wc: 4.5k

matty wakes up to a scream on one fine day mid june. 

he scrambles awake, drenched in sweat because it’s already so warm in london, and because the scream is startling. he’s about to run to make sure she’s okay when he hears another one—a squeal this time. a high-pitched, excited sound. 

“bug?” he calls out, his voice scratchy still, “what’s happening?”

footsteps thud on the floor. a moment later the door swings open and she comes into view, laptop balanced precariously in one hand and her eyes as round as saucers. matty sits up on the bed. the covers fall around his waist, exposing his entire torso right down to his happy trail. 

“what—”

“i got it!” she hoists the laptop high up in the air. “that summer gig with arctic monkeys! i got it! i got it, matty, me!” 

matty’s sure his eyes widen an equal amount then, and he jumps off the bed. there he is, standing naked as the day he was born in the middle of their room. the kisses on his chest from the night before have already darkened, leaving a neat little trail from his sternum to just below his belly button. and yet, matty cares about none of it. 

“you got it! fuck, bug—”

“i got it!” she squeals, eyes brimming with tears now that it’s sinking in, and almost chucks the laptop on the bed. none of them care that he’s naked and she’s not. she makes a run at him, jumping into his open arms and wrapping her bare legs around his middle. she even presses a kiss square on his lips, too excited to deepen it. he just twirls them around until they both end up in a heap on the bed. 

“shit!”

“shit!” he laughs. “you’d be in europe all summer, one country after the other. surrounded by hot rockstars—”

“matty!” she chastises even though he can tell she’s busy trying to stifle her shit-eating grin. “i’m going to work. take photos!”

“of hot rockstars,” he bumps his shoulder into hers.

she turns and eyes him properly, from his messy curls to his naked chest and down. he doesn’t shy away from her though, if anything he feels a little smug. 

“i already take photos of hot rockstars,” she giggles, tracing a finger over the tattoo in the centre of his chest. “sexy photos too.”

“oh is that right?” he takes a hold of her waist, pulling her flush against his chest. her day old perfume surrounds him. his too, he realises, is in the mix, clinging to her skin like it’s meant to. “you won’t be here all summer…” he kisses her shoulder and pulls her leg over his waist. 

“i’ll send you postcards,” she giggles, “like we’re in the 90s or something.”

“sexy…postcards?”

she pinches the skin on his stomach lightly making him hiss. “pervert.”

“you’re a photographer, bug,” matty’s mouth moves from her shoulder to her chest, right where the fabric of her cami ends, not exactly where he wants to be. “i’m sure, you can get…creative.”

she quirks an eyebrow. “and what will i get in return, hmm? i’ll be ‘surrounded by hot rockstars’, don’t you forget.”

“oh, all of this isn’t enough?” matty points at his naked body, earning a flirty giggle from her. 

he already feels hot all over again, simmering right beneath his skin, and from the looks of it, she feels it too. gently, she pushes him on his back, climbing on top of him until she’d on his stomach, her ass touching his dick. matty pulls the strings of her shorts and helps her out of them, out of her underwear too. 

“gorgeous,” he murmurs once she chucks her cami somewhere in the corner, entirely naked and on top of him, grinding on his stomach until she’s practically dripping onto him. matty loves it when she uses him like that, when she gets lost chasing her own pleasure and forgets the world around her. 

matty loves looking at her then—now—when her lips are parted and eyes rolled to the back of her head, when her jaw is slack with pleasure and she moves her hips in a hypnotising rhythm. getting herself off on his stomach.

his hand snakes up her naked thigh till he's grabbing her ass. praise after praise tumbles out of his mouth and each one has her moving faster, rocking hips. his head spins from the blood running so fast through his veins. it's electric, to see her like that, to feel her like that. he’s dying to feel her around him too, but right now matty is just content to lie back and watch. 

when she finally finds her release and slumps forward on his chest, breathing hard, matty presses a kiss on her crown. 

“had your fun, didn’t you?”

she hmms, giggling a little. “your turn?”

and of course, he doesn’t need to be asked twice.

the week before she’s set to leave, she makes him sit in front of the dresser, bleach and blue dye held up in her gloved hands. matty’s doing it because she won’t. because she wants to ‘look professional’. and so he agrees to dyeing his hair blue. 

she’s more than happy to do it too, pressing kisses on his bare shoulder and neck every two seconds. matty dips a finger in the dye and flicks her nose, painting it blue. 

“oh i will kill you,” she screeches, giggling away from him when he tries to get more dye on her, on her clothes and skin, and tries to kiss her while he reeks of bleach. 

and even though they're happy, somewhere in the back of his mind he already misses her, even when she’s right here in his arms. 

“i love you…” he murmurs and places a soft kiss on her lips, she indulges for a few seconds before frowning. 

“why did you say it like that?”

“like what?”

“like it’s a sad thing.”

she can be quite perceptive when she wants to be. but matty simply shakes his head and hooks a hand under her knees. she laughs so loud when he throws her over his shoulder that it echoes around the house. matty hopes the house traps it, her laughs and her giggles and moans, he’s going to miss hearing it. 

“matty?” she nips his earlobe. 

“hmm?” 

“i love you too. more than you’ll ever know.” 

he doesn’t bother correcting her, or telling her that he knows. he knows because he feels it in all of her touches and her kisses and her smiles. and he knows because no matter how upset he is about spending two months apart, he knows she’s coming home to him at the end of it.

he only sets her down once they get to the bathroom, kissing her so deeply that her whole body reacts to him. the dye on her nose smears against his cheek, the dye on his hair gets on her hands, but matty cannot stop smiling like a fucking idiot. smiling and touching her and kissing her while they shed their clothes and get under the shower. 

the water turns blue instantly, rivulets running under their feet, and matty gets down on his knees. 

“let me…” he breathes, throwing her leg over his shoulder. his mouth is instantly between her legs, hands grabbing onto her thighs and her ass, while he looks up at her. her head is thrown back in ecstasy, fingers tangled in his freshly dyed hair. 

he keeps going until she cums on his tongue and cums again. he keeps going until his knees hurt and the water runs clear. he keeps going until she can quite literally no longer stand. 

then matty picks her up in his arms, and carries her to bed.

“i’ll be in brussels this time tomorrow,” she murmurs next to him the night before she’s set to leave.

it’s so late at night, she should be asleep. he should be asleep too, but he suspects they’re both up thinking the same thing. trying not to toss and turn and wake the other up… matty laughs at the irony. 

“go to bed, bug,” he whispers. “you’ve got to be up by 7.”

she turns to him, barely visible in the moonlight. and yet matty doesn’t need to see her face to know what she’s thinking and how she’s feeling. he simply needs to listen to her breathing as it turns shallow. 

“i do,” she nods and moves closer to him. matty opens up his arms and lets her find a comfy spot until she’s practically on top of him, until they’re one tangled entity. “i’ll be in brussels and you’ll be here.”

“we’ve been apart before,” he replies lamely. 

“that was different! we were just friends then, and…”

“and?”

she shrugs, pressing a kiss onto his shoulder. “and i’d learned to suppress my feelings for you. it was fine then, i was fine!”

matty presses a kiss into her head. “i wasn’t. i missed you everyday.”

“liar!”

“i’d never lie to you, bug,” he giggles. “and i know it’s different now, but we have options. i can call you everyday, text you 24/7, fuck, i could show up to any country you’re in. it’s only europe, you’re right here!”

she laughs, and matty can hear the wobble in it. a second later, wetness touches his shoulder. “i don’t think the band does ‘bring your boyfriend to work’ days.”

“alex would love to have me around,” he teases. 

that makes her snort properly. “you’re such a fanboy, it’s adorable.”

“rude!” he flicks her forehead. “go to bed now, i don’t want you feeling like a zombie tomorrow.”

she doesn’t respond after that, she just snuggles more into him, drawing circles on his arm until eventually her breathing deepens and her fingers stop moving. matty doesn’t sleep a wink though. he stays awake playing with her hair, fingers trying to memorise its softness, the precise texture of it. it’s only when the sky is on the verge of twilight does he manage to fall asleep. 

it’s a quick, dreamless sleep, over like a flash in the pan, and before he knows it, her alarm goes off and matty groans awake.

she’s waking up too, eyes still closed and face so sleepy and soft that matty wants to tuck her back in bed and not let her go. but no matter how hard he wishes for it, she has to go. it’s a good opportunity for her, it will be so good for her career. 

and yet and yet and yet. 

matty sighs and places a kiss on her head. 

“bug? you up?”

she mumbles sleepily. matty laughs. 

“come on, you won’t be ready in time if you don’t wake up now.”

and that’s how they go back and forth—matty tries to coax her out of bed, she mumbles something and buries her face wherever she can, until finally he manages to shake her hard enough. 

it’s funny to him how she stomps to the bathroom and comes out as a completely new person once she’s had her shower. he’s ready for her though, two steaming mugs of coffee in hand. it’s the last time they will sit across from each other and have coffee for two months. last time before he’s sentenced to seeing her face on a tiny phone screen. 

“you’re not gonna cry are you?” her eyes widen, and matty schools his face back into a smile. “if you cry, i’ll cry and then none of us is going anywhere.”

“i’m not a crybaby, love,” he flicks her nose, kissing it straight after. “i’ll miss you though. more than you’ll ever know.”

there’s not much he can say that won’t make him actually start crying. so he just enjoys the coffee with her and holds her close. he stays there, for as long as she needs until she has to finally get up and get ready to leave.

“matty, look!” she holds up a snail to the phone screen, eyes bright, excited. “i’m having snails.” then she puts on an exaggerated french accent. “escargot!”

matty laughs. “you don’t even like them, bug.”

“i do when they’re given to me in bed by room service.”

he briefly looks away from her face and behind her. there’s not much of a view, just the fancy headboard and a nightstand littered with jewellery and contact lens case and her frayed old headphones. matty smiles at it fondly and looks at the nightstand on her side of their bed—it’s empty, clean. he feels a pang in his chest. 

matty looks back at her just in time to watch her make a face.

“okay maybe i’ll have them later,” she tries not cringe, he just snickers at her. 

a bit later once she’s done eating, she gives him a tour of the room. it’s much of the same really, similar to the rooms she’d stayed in in rome and milan and berlin. he’s no stranger to any of it either, and yet he gives her his full attention, cooing at the view from her window even though they can barely see the eiffel tower. she looks happy about it, and so he is too. 

“how was you day?” she asks once they’ve both settled in bed. 

matty sighs, “much of the same really. worked a bit, then worked out a bit and now i’m talking to you.”

he doesn’t say that he could barely eat because he hates eating alone and misses her so bad. he doesn’t tell her that he forced george to be on call with him while he ate his sad little dinner of day old pizza and some chicken tenders. 

“worked out,” she waggles her eyebrows, “gonna be fit before i come back to you?”

“for you? maybe.”

her breath quivers a little and matty sees the precise second her face shifts from a teasing smirk to something a little more intense. he sits up too, propped against his pillow. and sure it is july, the nights have already grown hotter, but something tells him the heat in the room is not because of that. 

“did i show you photos from the show?” 

“of alex?” matty raises a brow and she rolls her eyes, biting her lip a little. 

“of me, idiot! was dressed like a proper 2013 arctic monkeys fan.”

he can see the image so clearly—her in a black mini-skirt and knee socks—and when she sends him a few photos his guess is confirmed. except there’s also her tight-fitting t-shirt that shows off everything matty wishes he could touch right now. he lets out a shaky breath, swiping through the photos. 

“you like them?” her voice is shier than before, matty smirks.

“you look like a fantasy,” he breathes down the line, already half hard in his pyjama shorts. her breathy, seductive giggle doesn’t help matters. matty can’t help but palm himself lightly at the sound, imagining doing things to her in that tiny little skirt. 

“what are you thinking?,” she speaks into the phone, mischief dancing in her tone.

“what do you want me to think?”

she twirls a little strand of hair around her finger, one long fingernail combing through her soft hair. he’s been dying to touch them again, dying to feel her fingernails scratch on his back while she moans and screams his name over and over again. 

she touches her lips subconsciously, and that’s pretty much the last straw for him. 

“what were you doing?” he asks. and then, pulls down his shorts. 

he’s painfully hard by now, aching and desperate to feel her around him. but she’s a million kilometres away, alone and cold in a foreign bed and not in his arms like she should. so he has no other option but to touch himself like a sixteen year old boy. the thought of her doing just the same drives him insane. 

“nothing. just wondering what you’d do if you would have seen me in that outfit.”

he hears her breath quiver over the last words.

“you want to know?” matty wraps a hand around the base of his cock, letting her uneven breathing wash over him. this is so horny and reckless. he can’t even go a few weeks without her for fuck’s sake…

but he can’t help himself, not when it comes to her. 

“touch yourself like i would,” he says, “and then i’ll tell you everything i want to do to you…”

the phone sex doesn’t stop after that. if anything it opens up so many new avenues for him. almost every night a week, while he’s in the same old bed and she’s in a different bed each time, matty finds himself spilling in his own hand, wishing it was her hand, her face, her stomach. wishing it was her. 

sex aside he misses her so dearly it’s like a hole has been carved in his chest precisely big enough to fit her. 

“alex was so good today!” she squeals down the phone one night while she’s in madrid. 

better than me? he almost says but keeps the words to himself. it’s jealousy rearing its ugly head, nothing more.

“oh yeah?”

she frowns at his disinterested tone. “you alright?”

“i’m just tired, bug.” matty runs a hand over his face, “i just want to sleep.”

“oh.”

her small voice instantly makes him open his eyes. she’s smiling at him, of course she is, but he can tell when her smiles are fake and when they are real. and the one right now is stretched so forcefully over her face that he wonders if it hurts.

“no, no,” he shakes his head, “i can stay up for a bit, it’s no big deal.”

“are you sure?”

he hates that he’s made her feel so unsure. of course he wants to stay awake and talk to her, all night if it weren’t for the fact she has busy days and long hours to work. 

the sun hasn’t even properly set yet and she’s already in bed, looking quite tired if he’s being honest. she looks different than he’d last seen her too, suntanned and freckled—probably after spending fun afternoons at the beach with all these attractive people all around her—

stop it.

“we should go to the beach when you come back.” matty changes the topic abruptly. “just us, a proper beach day. it will be fun i think.”

“yeah?”

she settles deeper under her covers, resting her phone against a pillow so she won’t have to hold it upright. matty does the same, sleeping on his side. if he fools himself enough, it’s like they’re sleeping side by side again. if he fools himself, she’s back in his arms, snuggled up with him no matter how hot it is. 

“you look so sleepy, bug,” he laughs, touching his phone screen like he’s caressing her cheek. “oh wait, a snug bug.”

“poetry,” she snorts, stifling a yawn. “i’m fine matty, i wanna talk to you. tomorrow’s a busy day, dunno if i can even text you all day.”

his mood sours instantly, but he tries not to show it on his face. she is working. this is not some holiday where she can set time aside to call and text him. besides he’s seen some of her photos posted on the band’s social media—her hard work shines through instantly. and ever time he sees them, pride swells in his chest. 

“do you want to hear something george and i came up with the other day?”

she nods, pulling the covers up to her chin. 

matty doesn't waste more time explaining what it is, he just starts humming. it’s at the very beginning stages of its creation—a song inspired by this summer—and yet, the more he hums, the more the melody just comes to him. the lyrics are gibberish, mostly just a lot of oohs and hmms but it’s accomplishing the goal he’s set out with. 

her eyes droop more and more with each passing second, breathing deepening more, until he’s almost at the end of the song and she’s fast asleep.

her mouth is parted like always, hands tucked under her chin and knees pulled up to her chest like she’s preserving warmth even on a summer night. he wonders if she feels cold in hotel rooms, he wonders if she misses him just as much as he misses her, so strong it keeps him up at night sometimes, touching her side of the bed and her pillow. 

he doesn’t hang up though. he stays on call, watching her sleep. he stays on call until she’s completely unmoving and unaware of anything else happening around her. he stays on call until her phone dies eventually and his screen goes black. then he cradles the device to his chest like it’s trapped her essence. and maybe it has. 

when matty falls into a restless sleep that night, he only dreams of her.

the dreams become a permanent fixture. not like he’s complaining, not when he’s sleeping anyway. but then he has to wake up to the bleak reality that she’s not here, day after day, week after week.

they talk on the phone every single day of course, and with each passing day he knows her homecoming gets closer. somehow it’s harder. 

days before she’s supposed to come, matty’s in a mood so foul that he doesn’t even call her. he just makes up some silly excuse and skips out on it. 

her :( text makes him feel worse, but all he does is get in bed at 8 pm when it’s still light outside, and bury himself under blankets no matter how hot it is. 

somewhere hours later, he falls into an uneasy sleep. 

“shh, go back to sleep,” matty feels the bed dip in the wee hours of the morning, her voice a hoarse whisper. it’s a dream, his sleep-addled brain tells him, it’s another dream fueled by loneliness and missing her and being so so cold every night. it’s—

“baby?”

“hmm?”

“you’re not cold, are you?” she slides in behind him, still fully clothed. her soft, worn jeans rub against his thigh, then she drapes a bare arm over him. “you’ve got goosebumps.”

“you’re a dream,” matty mumbles, sleep coating each word. her deep laugh resonates all around him, surrounding him like a warm blanket. 

“am i?” she kisses the shell of his ear. “how do you know?”

sleep threatens to take him under once again in the comfort of her arms. the feel of her hair brushing against is shoulder is familiar, it smells like her—like peaches and lilies. matty smiles to himself, this is by far the most realistic dream his brain has produced all summer. 

“hey,” she kisses his shoulder, sending butterflies fluttering in his stomach. 

“you’re a dream…” matty repeats, “because i’ve had this dream before.”

“oh yeah?” he feels himself being pulled into a chest—so solid and real and warm. her fingers dance on his arms, from his shoulder to his elbow and back up, tickling just a little—not enough to fully wake him up, but definitely enough to hold him there, suspended in a limbo between sleep and consciousness. “what happens in your dream?”

“you come into our bed…”

“like this?” the smile in her voice is prominent. 

“mm-hmm,” matty nods and turns, eyes closed, face burrowed into her chest now. her scent surrounds him stronger than before, with new things added to it—faint smell of coffee and the outdoors in general. he can feel his face squished between her boobs, which isn’t a new detail as far as his dreams go, but his brain has certainly upped the quality of it tonight. 

it’s a dream it’s a dream it’s a dream, matty chants in his head over and over again till the words meld into each other and turn gibberish. 

“and then?” her voice cuts through his spiral. 

“and then you hold me, bug”

“i am holding you…” he feel her nod, and yet her arms tighten, cuddling him closer. the next time she speak, matty feels the vibrations of her voice running through his chest, passing through his heart. 

“and then?”

instead of answering, he focuses on her fingers—up and down, up and down. from his shoulder to his elbow and back up. “sometimes you touch me,” he breathes into the crook of her neck, “other times you hold me until i wake up.” his voice is muffled, barely audible. it’s alright, though. she’s just a dream, a figment of his imagination, a part of him. how could she ever not understand him?

“i touch you?” she laughs, a little giggly, and matty nods. “how do i touch you?”

he takes her hand in his, traces the pads of her fingers, the lines on her palm. then he places her hands on his bare chest—smooth, small fingers touching his ribs, trailing downward toward his stomach and his belly button. matty sighs. “you touch me like that. like you do when you’re really here…”

“matty, i am really here!” she laughs, kissing his head this time. her thumb moves in circles on his collarbone. “open your eyes, ‘m right here.”

“‘s a trick,” he mumbles. a moment later his mouth finds the hollow of her throat. her skin is slightly cold to the touch, halfway to warming up. against his lips he feels the chain she always wears, like she’s come back home and gotten straight into bed. matty scoffs, what a strange thought. 

“you’ll disappear if i open my eyes. and i want you to stay. i miss you…” he says, “i can’t wait two more days till you’re home.”

“you don’t have to,” she giggles—it’s a giddy, breathless sound that makes him smile too. 

“you’re a good dream,” matty holds onto her tight, relishing how solid she feels in his arms. “the best dream i’ve ever had.”

her hands move over his body again until they’re on his face, cradling his cheek. then he feels her tilting his chin up, feels her lips on his—just one tiny, soft kiss. she smiles against his mouth, says something too but the words don’t fully register in his mind. 

“i’ll see you soon,” matty murmurs, properly sleepy now, unable to hold on for much longer. 

“you will,” her voice holds a promise. “go to sleep now, i can’t wait to see you in the morning.”

he chuckles at her words. just before sleep properly drags him under, he places his hand on her cheek, feels the familiar soft skin under his palm and hears her sigh. 

“and you’ll be here in the morning?” he teases, “will you be here as a daydream, bug?”

she threads her fingers through his hair, playing with them till it’s impossible to hold on to consciousness. just as he’s about to slip under, he hears her exhale. “i’ll be here as anything you want me to be,” she murmurs, kissing the crown of his head. 

matty succumbs to sleep.

taglist: @scooby-doodoo @partoftheairforce @justgoatsbreakinghearts0855 @beachesgetpeaches @you-muppet @mcabister @alexmarie29 @at-her-very-foreign @hfkait @sierraeslaprincesa @harrie-fic-center @alien-girl-violet @thereisaplaceintheheart @kennedy-brooke @lolidontknowanymore @celestcies @sugarkane1001 @ari-turner @daphnesutton @beliefandsayingsomething @ros3chu @nothingrevealedeverythingdenied @zzzhealy @mattymybeloved @indiaamars @sofaritsalrightt @k4tie75 @wondersecret @indierockgirrl @tonguepiercedanyway75 @if-my-heart-bleeds @abriefnirvana @renitypoem @sinarainbows @lady-may-targaryen @love4agesss @angrylittlebaldman @oneluckygirl @starvchaser @noacfapologyst @abouttofillhisshoes @tbhnotthatfunny @wrongendofyourcigarettte

add yourself to / remove yourself from the taglist

[mywritingonlyfans]

Red Carpet // Alex Turner X fem!Reader (Fluffly/Smut).

words: 4,2K.

prompt: Alex being extremely supportive of Reader at her first premiere!

warnings: It's primarily fluff, but the smut is found in the last part, after the... endings!

You took a deep breath from time to time, feeling your hands cold and clammy as you looked at yourself in the mirror. Indeed, you felt beautiful. You thought the voluminous dress was a bit over the top, but it was as perfect for the occasion as a dream coming true. "What do you think?" Alex had already given his honest opinion more than once, yet he would repeat it as many times as necessary. "It's just that I've finished my makeup now." You bit your lips, earning a disapproving look from your makeup artist (yes, it was that fancy!). "They're durable, but not that much." She shook the red tube, making you understand with regret.

 Alex laughed, touching his thumb gently over your lip, you laughed at that and he showed you his clean finger before holding your chin and giving you a long peck.

Amid the hurried sounds of packages being put away, you saw your new friend roll her eyes. "You look beautiful, red suits you." His caramel eyes were calm and had a slight sparkle. You hated making him be there with you, even though he said he didn't mind. Your hand squeezed his arm, the velvety texture of his cream suit easing your worries, and you kissed your forehead. "Everythin' will be fine, I'll be there with you, lil’ one." He stroked your back, admiring your dress that matched the color of his suit; a sweet smile spreading at the corners of his lips.

 Watching you clinging to him, he noticed your restless hand fiddling with the chain around your neck. He briefly missed having your palm under his shirt until your fingers found the necklace against his skin, with you pinching the thin metal until you calmed down. However, he knew he had made a good choice in giving it to you.

 He brushed your hair away from your face, aligning it between his fingers as you closed your eyes at his touch, resting your cheek better against his chest. Soon, you hesitated, and before he could question it and you could see the fabric stained with foundation or whatever was on your face, you heard a distant voice, ready to leave, "Don't worry, it won't transfer. Enjoy your man." You and Alex both thanked her, your face burning. And as his body embraced yours in a hug, you felt lighter; at least for a few more minutes.

....

 The day was beautiful, with the warm sun and the cooler breeze, even though your body was completely cold. Alex held your waist, occasionally looking at your face and hands to make sure you were alright. It wasn't his favorite setting, but he was happy for you, so proud that it made the situation seem commonplace. His initial idea was to leave you on the red carpet for photos and then wait for you until the interviews were over; he wouldn't take the spotlight from your day. It was expected that if he were by your side, questions meant for you and the film would soon turn to him or the band. But seeing your dazed look and restless breathing, he couldn't go through with it. He knew you could handle it if necessary, but he hated the thought of pushing you into something when he knew your mind was already being cruel enough to you.

 He tightened his fingers around you, sliding them up your back. "You're doing great," he whispered in your ear, smiling comfortably and pressing his lips to your temple. Your posture became less rigid, and with every step, he stayed by your side. You knew he didn't mind, but you wondered if having photos of him there with you might somehow be detrimental to the band.

"Thank you, Al," you said. You didn't feel the need to thank him, but you wanted to show that you appreciated it all. He smiled, his cheeks flushing pink and his nose wrinkling. "At your service, my lady." His accent sounded sharper, and it felt like he was the only one there with you.

Alex heard your name being called, in that repetitive and desperate chorus, "It seems like something I’d do in private, yeah?" You laughed, looking at him with a more relaxed look and he felt satisfied with the comment he made.

You weren't used to this, and seeing you happy with the recognition for your work filled Alex with a sense of lightness.

"How was it working with the director? And your first major role, how's it been?" The question was clear, the shouts had stopped, and everyone seemed intent on listening to you.

Before you could fidget with any part of your skin or dress, he held your hand, warming your cold skin, and you began to respond slowly. Your words were cautious but coherent, and you felt good, aware of Alex's eyes on you. When you finished, you looked at him, smiling, and he nodded with a sweet expression that had been there since you started speaking.

"Are you two headin’ home together? How's the relationship goin’? Any new music on the horizon?" His face turned red, and he thought about ignoring the question but he didn't want to embarrass you. There was a brief pause, hoping for a new question. He shook his head, somewhat apathetically, feeling your thumb caress his. You weren't sure how to handle it either, but you felt fine, even though this wasn't usual or expected. 

"I'm very proud of her; it's a big moment. This night’s all ‘bout her. You should try harder to get more information from her; did you notice she hasn't seen the movie yet? This will be her first time now." Alex spoke pointedly, with deliberate pauses, making the suppressed sound more ironic. He kept any intimacy away from the interviewers. He was brief, nothing more. And his hands never left yours, you thanked him with a gentle squeeze.

You had seen disjointed pieces of the film, but not the whole thing with a beginning, middle, and end. That hadn't happened yet. Fortunately, you got the chance to talk about it. More questions followed once they understood he wouldn't answer any of them. As you gained confidence, your words became louder and clearer without needing repetition. Alex gradually let go of your hand, although his attention remained entirely on you. You felt free to gesture and no longer limited yourself to keeping your feet firmly on the ground. "I'll be nearby, lil’ one," he whispered, squeezing your waist between questions. He stepped away from the cameras but stayed within your view, watching you gracefully discuss your performance.

 He chatted with some of your actor friends during this time. They spoke highly of you, which made him feel comfortable in that unfamiliar environment. Alex couldn't stop looking at you, a goofy smile on his face, and his body relaxed every time you glanced at him and nodded to let him know you were okay. He couldn't remember ever being so happy for someone.

 "I'd suggest you wait for her inside, but you seem comfortable," the director said, amused at how Alex hovered around you, making you feel so good about yourself. "She mentioned you usually downplay big events like this."

 "No, it's not like that..." His voice caught in his throat, but then he saw the director laughing, realizing he wasn't serious. You had shared many stories about him, from how much you loved his work, making Alex watch all his films, to everyday adventures with him; it was clear the question was a joke. "I wouldn't miss this for anything’." He pointed to you, struggling with words but making it clear he needed to be there for this moment.

 "She's talented, Alex. I hope to see you at future events celebrating new films with us." Not in a harmful way, Alex felt a pang of jealousy that others recognized how amazing you were beyond just him; but he understood it was inevitable.

 Your fingers were still wrapped around the chain, stretching it slightly and pressing it against your skin as you moved forward with confidence.

 "I'll be there," he nodded eagerly, biting his lips, returning his attention to how excited you were during the interviews.

...

 You kissed his lips, planting multiple kisses on his cheek before the cinema lights dimmed. He tasted like caramel popcorn, his hand resting on your thigh as yours rested on top of his. Alex's lips and cheeks were tinted with your lipstick, like an additional blush, looking so cute that you couldn't help but amplify it.

 "You have to pretend you enjoyed it for me, even if you didn't," you whispered, laying your head on his chest. He settled more comfortably in the chair, letting you snuggle into him. Your body was killing you.

 "Why wouldn't I enjoy it?" he smiled with an exaggerated intake of breath, stroking your back and then gently caressing your neck. "After all, I'll be seeing you for over 2 hours straight on a huge screen, I see no downsides."

 "With another man," he sniffed, scratching his nose, making you laugh.

  Alex knew the gist of the movie's story; he had asked you to avoid details because he wanted to experience it in the cinema when it was released. You respected that, although some things were inevitably shared. He admired you, and getting there took you time. It was nights and more nights of theater performances that Alex saw you in small venues in different cities; they were all perfect, but he always knew that this was your dream, and experiencing it with you was surreal. Seeing that your effort paid off, and you succeeded, and were genuinely happy about it.

During filming, you spent a lot of time in LA with him. He would pick you up from the recording studio when the shoots ended late at night, and he loved hearing about your day and everything that you learned over dinner until exhaustion hit, and you fell asleep on each other.

Alex was adept at making your busy days lighter, sometimes you worried about not being good enough for all that, and he’d be there for you. He was certain that you were born for it. But his point was, you always believed in him. During the recording of the last album, you waited up late for him to come home, even if it was just to hug him before bed. Countless nights were spent listening to his musings while you were tired from your own performances and lines to memorize, yet you were there for him completely. Though he never measured words to express it, he felt like he was finally being for you what countless times, effortlessly, you had been for him. And not out of obligation but genuine sentiment; he hated the thought of letting you down. He loved you so much, he just wanted to see you well. Seeing you achieve your dreams made him feel fulfilled too.

 "Al, babe," you delicately brushed your fingers over his eyelashes, kissing his nose afterwards. "Why’re you cryin’?" You hugged him. He squeezed you in a full and complete embrace. He nestled his face into your shoulder, comforted by your scent as your fingers traced his neck. It was not a desperate cry, but his face had gained a rosy blush, and up close, his eyes were filled with tears.

"I'm proud of you, babe. It was a great film, you did an incredible job." He saw your posture soften as he held your face. Alex wasn't so vocal, though he showed well how much he admired you, but hearing that filled in loose pieces you didn't even know you had. You smiled widely, understanding because you felt the same way when he finished an album after so much work. "I'm so happy to see your progress, you're so talented." He kissed your cheek, brushing away what could have been tears.

 "Al, love. You're starting to sound like a coach, you can stop now," your hand rested on his chest, and he lightly slid his fingers down your back. You sounded emotional, and he could see himself repeating that more often. "I love you."

 "I love you too, my movie star." You smiled against his suit, making him hold you tighter.

 The rest of the event went well. Alex held a glass of water that you sipped from occasionally, wearing his sunglasses and smoking a cigarette. He stood away from the red carpet, but yes, you felt his eyes on you even with the dark lenses as an obstacle. You had to stop for some more photos, posing alone and with the director and then actors. Finally, you pulled Alex close for a session of awkward photos of you hugging him tightly while he looked disoriented about what to do. "I need you in my records," you smiled, kissing his cheek, already looking forward to seeing them later. It was only a few minutes, but you knew it would generate a lot of photos.

 "I know you don't like it, but I couldn't resist," as soon as he heard the phrase, he continued, with a heaviness in his chest. "I do not mind, I just want to avoid interfering your professional image with mine," he was going to keep going, but he saw your playful smile and rolled his eyes at you. "Sorry for makin’ a joke ‘bout it, I get it, babe. I like how you take care of me." His carefree shoulders mirrored your joy.

 After the event, Alex lets you walk a few steps ahead of him, still keeping an eye on you. He headed straight for the van, avoiding glances and photos. You thanked those who had waited on the sidelines for so long, not a crowd, but it surprised you that there were people there for the movie, which was still so recent and unseen. The director might be famous, but you weren't. There was a girl with a pink sign for you; she was excited, happy to talk to you, and it was one of the cutest things that had ever happened to you; she knew about your works that you didn't even remember so well. You thanked her, signed a few more autographs, and got a comment or two about how cute you and Alex were. "Is that the necklace he was wearing?" You agreed, wishing you could get to the hotel and see everything on the news feeds; photos and reviews, even if they could be bad.

 Getting into the van, feeling your frozen nose, Alex greeted you with a confident side smile, as if to say "you deserve this and much more" with his blazer ready to warm you up. You snuggled into the thick fabric, somewhat numbed by the moment. Your fingers sought the necklace around your neck, like an amulet. "Did you see the sign?" You asked, as Alex pointed outside, ready to ask the same question. Even though he had seen it himself, he didn't mind hearing you recount what had just happened in your own words. You looked at him, radiating happiness. Alex still had rosy cheeks from your lipstick, his eyes shining every time they met yours; you liked how he appreciated that along with you; even though there were events and people who admired him everywhere he went. He was familiar with all that, unlike you.

"That's so cool," you said, sounding like someone describing a brief dream. He held your face, with teary eyes and strands of hair falling onto his forehead, embracing every word you said. "I can't believe I'm dating a movie star." This prompted you to throw yourself into his arms in more cozy laughter against his chest.

...

 You tighten your robe to watch them on the screen. Alex was receiving room service; you had ordered pizza and some beers to end the night. Your back was aching, but the remaining adrenaline did a good job of easing that. The entire progression of everything felt so perfect.

 "Did he give you the necklace?" That question had been asked a few times by different people, each time bringing back memories of the previous night when Alex had taken the metal chain off his neck and put it on yours. You remembered every time you felt overwhelmed and your reaction to Alex comforting you by wrapping his arms around you was to play with the necklace until you were distracted by his body warmth; you were aware that you did this, just as you understood that Alex did too. So when you questioned why he was giving it to you to wear and he simply said it looked good on you, you didn't dwell on it. "When was this?" Her voice was sweet, her eyebrows curious. You felt embraced by the people who loved Alex, and that meant a lot to you.

"Yes, it was yesterday, I think," you smiled, holding the chain between your fingers.Your confusion was evident, her reaction was unexpected for just a necklace. She brought David over, who took the moment to congratulate you, and even before Penny could say anything, he commented on it as well with a sweet look. You dared to say they seemed happier with this topic than with the movie itself.

 They asked questions about the event, when they could watch the movie, and they listened graciously. Alex joined you with, "I still can't believe I'm dating a renowned movie star, doesn't seem fair." And although you wanted to comment on that, such words left you speechless. He sounded genuine and proud, you couldn't take that away from him, even though the statement itself didn't make much sense since he was much more famous than you. The conversation took its course towards the end with you leaning on Alex's shoulder, smelling his post-shower scent. You thanked them once again, just as they always thanked you for taking care of Alex, adding a knowing wink. "I'm happy for you two, darlings!" And Alex seemed to understand perfectly what that meant.

 His hair was still dripping water, the robe was looser than usual, you liked this intimate side of him that only you had access to. "You look beautiful," he glanced at you as he gathered the remaining pizza packages and disposed of them. Alex was certain that you were perfect for him, even knowing that as tired as you were, you would never get rid of that mess before going to bed, and that would irritate him, but he also didn't mind doing it or ever thought of changing you. You didn't say anything, just stared at him for a while longer, aware that your hair was a mess and the poorly removed glitter was still on your face.

 "What's the real story of the chain?"  You whispered, climbing on top of him once he laid down next to you.  The same bright, tenuous caramel eyes on you and the goofy smile that always appeared when you stared at him for too long.  

 You kissed his lips, moving a little down his chin and sloppily to his neck.  You shove your nails on his arms, just as his fingers tightened around your waist.  "Huh?"  He laughed, his face gaining color as you placed yourself on his chest. 

"I like how it looks on you."  He sounded breathless at your touch.  Your fingerprints entered his robe, making it wider and the hair more agitated.  You were pleased with his reaction. “I thought you were tired?” His thick sleepy accent made you a bit drunk;  maybe you were both a little tipsy.

You tightened your legs around him, he rubbed your thighs and pulled your hips deeper onto him.  And God, you could feel him, getting heavy and ready for you.

You sighed deeply, your lungs full.  He was tired too, the dark circles under his eyes were more pronounced and he was gently running his hand through his hair.  "Fuck, Alex. You're so fuckable."  He ended up laughing in a way that was inappropriate for the moment, but so usual for you. 

You rubbed against him more, nibbling on his shoulder.  His skin was so soft and fragrant, it was impossible not to bite down hard.  That made him pull your hair harder, releasing a sharper moan from your lips.  You wanted to taste him so badly, feel him in the back of your throat and be aware of his entire length.  But it was difficult to sit still, your body refused. 

His face was warm, it was comfortable to have him touch you in the same way you contemplated him.  Your palm snuggled against his size, pumping him until he was no longer shy in your hand and then he sank his fingers into you, making himself more than certain that you were dripping.  You only realized that you weren't wearing the robe anymore when his fingertips circled your excited nipple, leaving them messy for his mouth. He bit and sucked your sensitive skin gracefully, tasting you as he wanted.

You couldn't help it, closing your eyes and letting yourself fall onto the bed.  It was like medicine. Alex knew you so well, the same good pressure and spaced nibbles and licks as you were used to.  Your hand rested on the back of his head, pulling him closer and giving light tugs.  He sighed as if he was savoring you, it was so good;  as well as briefly opening your eyes and seeing his closed as he pushed his nose into your skin in search of more of your body. 

 "Lay down for me, lil' one."  He asked, his voice breaking.  His lips were redder than normal and his hair was a mess. He understood that you were tired, but he couldn't ignore how your legs twitched around nothing. 

 With your eyes closed, you lay on your side, waiting to feel his warm body fit with yours.  He draped the blanket over you, making you cuddle up to him.  “Today was really busy, I see you’re out of energy, doll. He whispered so close to your ear that it made you moan over something so minimal.  

 You wanted him so much, and he knew it, that's why he dragged on.  You joined your hips to his and he held you to him by your waist, not doing anything properly about it.  "Al, please. It's my day, remember?"  You whined a little.  

 He chuckled, kissing your skin and leaving teeth marks as he slowly filled you.  Taking his time to savor every tiny noise of yours. Your moan was one of relief, feeling him on your stomach, comforting you.  "My girlfriend’s just so busy now, with her movie star life and photos and interviews. I have to enjoy these moments, right?"  He spoke between grunts, his words weak. 

 You laughed a bit, quietly enjoying that, managing to bite his arm that was surrounding you and muffled your sounds.  "You're so amazing and hot."  He fed the seed in you more.  His body weighed down on yours as you gripped the sheets tightly. 

 "I want to feel you, please."  You whimpered.  He held your body tighter, feeling the warm necklace mark your skin and his as your head fall onto his shoulder.  As soon as he warmed you up, emptying himself into you, his fingers worked precisely until you squirmed in your release. 

 More kisses were placed on your back, your feet were intertwined with his and without a doubt you wouldn't leave there anytime soon.  His chin fit on your shoulder, and you sighed lightly, returning to normal breathing as your fingers joined his and pinched the chain until everything became less intense.

 "I guess your parents don't think your necklace just looks good on me, not that I can explain."  Your back didn't hurt anymore, and although you were about to sleep, you knew that you would wake up in the middle of the night and that session would repeat itself in the early hours of the morning, even more sleepy and the two of you even more surrendered to the moment – and you loved it.  

 Alex also had this in mind, he would usually wake up first and pull you towards him, until it was unbearable for you to feel him swollen and hot for you and do nothing about it.

 "It's kind of a tradition,” at this point neither of you could even pretend to have the energy to keep your eyes open.  "The necklace runs in the family, it belonged to my uncle before it came to me, we pass it on to someone we like and then we hope that person does the same."  he said it casually, like it was no big deal.  You didn't imagine it, but you liked it.  "Do you think I'm that important?"  You knew the answer.  You wanted to know what to say, but you had no way to express anything;  as if nothing was enough.  He wrapped you up better in the blanket and he felt pleased to see your cute and happy smile about to fall asleep for good.

He hoped he could live many more days like this with you.  Seconds before he could visit you in his dreams, you murmured, "It's reciprocal, Al."  In a way that was so yours, making him always so sure of everything. 

...

taglist: @ohladymoon @indierockgirrl @bloo-wisteria @bellaturner @cosmicpiracy @nikisfwn @andrews-lovr @nela-cutie @alexturnersbbg3 @blackberryblossom @lilmisssweetdreams @alexshotelandcasino @tbhclove @rostarblog @babieswiftie @yourstartreatment @atticssmellgood @aacheinthejaw @mingods @theonlyoneswhoknowsblog @andulina567 @tonyxstanks @despairinthedeqarture @harrysbestiee @ultragirrl @lifewasawillow7 @viviannagiorgini @turnerside @seokjinluvb0t @solacestyles

...

taglist forms!

[captainwans]

 drunk in love.

   — alex turner

pairing: 2005!alex turner x fem!reader

warning: mentions of drugs use, vulgar language, implied smut. overall, mostly, purely, sweet-teeth rotting fluff. ( friends to lovers trope! )

word count: 1,6k | ( picture not mine! )

note: inspired by my love ( @stardustloserdoll )

masterlist!

"Al, c’mon!” [Y/N] chirped, grabbing his arm, intertwining their hands together as the female dragged them away from the crowd toward the small photo kiosk. She hiccuped, crimson dusted across her cheeks from drinking, along with sloppy steps, which Alex had to hold her waist to keep her in toes.

Alex let out a breathy laugh, eyes barely open as he tightened his grip on her waist. He felt his heart soar out of his chest, feeling her warm hands around his, subconsciously rubbing his skin with her thumb as they halted with their steps.

[Y/N] frowned, lips forming into a downwards pout when she noticed a line toward the photo booth. She let out an audible groan, her head falling backwards dramatically. “Dammit, we have to wait.” she whined, tilting her head to the side as her eyes darted across the heavy line of people waiting on the selfie booth.

Alex sniffled, rubbing his eye with his knuckles before turning his attention on her, his lips curving upwards unknowingly. “It's not that bad. It will be our turn before you know it.” he tried to reassure her, swinging their arms back and forth with a grin.

[Y/N] sighed, feeling goosebumps form her skin. “I'm cold, though.” She brought her hands to her arms, in an attempt to shield herself from the cold as she cursed internally for not bringing a jacket.

Alex opened his mouth for a second, but closed it, contemplating his next actions. He had a war inside his head for a few seconds before he cleared his throat and opened his arms. “C’mere, love. I’ll warm you up.” he said, cringing at his choices of words and cracked a smile to hide his awkwardness. He sighed in relief when she grinned, launching herself into his arms.

Alex laughed, almost knocking him out of balance as he felt her squeeze his waist. She hid her face into his chest, feeling his warmth. He rubbed her arms, trying to warm her up as they comfortably waited in line. He placed his chin on top of her head, fingers gently drawing circles around her skin. “You comfy?” he asked, moving his head to the side to look at her.

[Y/N]’s heart was furiously pounding at the intimacy and she felt her throat go dry, and she nodded instead and added a small hum. She let him guide them as the line got smaller, completely glued to his chest as she felt his rough calloused fingers moving up and down her arms.

After an eternity of waiting, when in reality it was only ten minutes, it was finally the duo’s turn and the female sprinted toward the booth. She heard Alex loudly cackling from behind her making her giggle and went up the small stairs leading her inside the selfie kiosk. She turned her head to him, a wide smile etched into her features and brought her arm out excitedly. "C'mon, Al!” she beamed, eyes sparking and grabbing his arm as they entered the small space.

“Ah, this is tight.” she mumbled under her breath, but the latter heard her nonetheless.

Alex chuckled under his breath. “You don’t say.” he said, ducking to avoid hitting his head on the roof. He shut the blinds and turned around, only to almost face planting as they realized how tight the space was.

She shifted her body just as Alex turned around and faced her, making them pause, flustered smiles being shared as they gazed at each other. “Well, hello there.” [Y/N] cheekily said, her bloodshot eyes wrinkling from smiling as his breath fanned her face.

Alex mirrored her look, cheeks reddening and adding a short laugh before turning his attention on the photo machine, putting a few coins inside the machine before touching one of the buttons. “Alright, what kind of pose should we do first?” he asked, turning to look at her, who was fixing her hair by using the camera lens as the mirror.

She brought a finger to her lips, eyes deep in thought. Her eyes lit up, “Bunny ears?” she suggested, puckering her lips at him making him nod his head.

The camera counted down to three and the pair brought their hand to each other’s head to point bunny ears. She giggled, feeling his hands lightly scratch her scalp before his hands slid down her back comfortably.

“Alright..” she bit her lip, ignoring his warm hands rubbing down her back. She clicked on the screen for the next countdown. Alex put an arm around her shoulders bringing her closer as the pair shared a big toothy grin to the camera.

She grabbed his chin, using both of her hands to pull him closer to her face as they posed for their third picture. Alex laughed through his nose, feeling her crimson cheeks touching his warm ones. The flashing light made him squint his eyes, feeling his eyes sting.

[Y/N] looked at him with a downwards pout, inching closer to the musician. “You alright, Al?” She fondly asked him, bringing both of her hands to remove his hands away from his face. She watched him blinking rapidly as he nodded, eyes slightly open making her eyebrows furrow with concern.

Alex’s breath hitched, goosebumps breaking into his skin at her slightest touch. “Y-Yeah. Just the flashlight….blinding my eyes.” He answered as he opened her eyes, feeling his heart palpitating at their closure.

The female brought her hand to his face, her fingers delicately removing a few hair strands away from his damp forehead to see him properly. She smiled warmly at him, which he shyly returned.

“You’re so cute.” Alex heard her say, causing a dust of pink dance across his cheeks, feeling blood rush through his cheeks. His heart was furiously beating against his chest and he was sure that she could hear how fast it was beating.

The musician looked into her eyes before trailing over to her features. “Nah,” he sighed and tucked her hair behind her ear, letting his hand linger just below her ear. “Think that applies to you, darling.” He admitted, his hand drifting up to hold the side of her neck as his thumb gently brushed her jaw.

[Y/N] closed her eyes, feeling his fingers interweaving through her hair and she stifled back a sigh of pleasure by biting her lip. She felt him cup her cheek and she opened her eyes.

Hesitant eyes met hers, slowly softening as he opened his mouth. “Can I kiss you?” He asked, his voice barely above a whisper, but she heard him.

A tremor of fire engulfed into her body. Her heart was stuttering against her chest and she felt heat flood over her face. She smiled widely, showing her teeth as she repeated his question inside her mind like a mantra. “Yes!” She replied with enthusiasm.

The female covered her mouth with her hand, cursing internally for sounding too desperate. She cleared her throat, giving him a flustered smile. “I—uh, I mean…y-yes, please.” She sheepishly said, failing to hide her radiant smile by the way he was looking at her.

Yes, please. Alex thought she couldn’t look any more endearing and charming than she already is. He mirrored her flustered expression and hummed. His hand was still resting on her cheek and he didn’t hesitate to close the distance between them, pulling her into a searing kiss.

[Y/N] met his kiss with a dreamy sigh, sliding her hands up to wrap around his shoulder and to his neck to bring him closer, wanting to feel every inch of him. His stomach swarmed with butterflies, feeling her hitch her leg around his hip to pull him closer. He trapped her against the cold wall, his hand pulling up her thigh as he deepened the kiss, swiping his tongue into her mouth making her moan.

A loud bang on the kiosk made the pair pull away, both breathless and panting as they looked at the curtain being pulled open. Alex's arms around her waist tightening as they watched an annoyed couple glaring daggers at them. “Can you guys do this somewhere else? This is a photo booth, not a make out booth.” They exclaimed, their expressions morphing into a sour frown.

Alex and [Y/N] shared a look before he voiced his irritation. “Oh, fuck off! It hasn’t even been five minutes.” he flipped him off, making the man scrunch his face with annoyance and shut the blinds rather aggressively.

The musician sighed, turning his head back to her, his irritation ceasing away at the way she was looking at him. “Fucking cock blocker.” he mumbled, leaning his forehead against hers.

“Tell me about it,” she sighed, nudging her nose with his before turning her head toward the camera. She scowled, “And it didn’t even take the picture.” She complained gesturing with her hand, eyebrows furrowed as she touched the button to redo their last picture.

She felt his hands rubbing her back, going lower to touch her hip. His fingers trailed down the hem of her shirt, slipping under the soft material onto her bare skin. She felt a shiver down her spine at his touch. She shifted her body through the small space to look back at him. There was something in the way he was looking at her, which made her mind immerse with the possibility of him rearranging her insides in a photo booth.

“Kiss me again.” she softly pleaded, making Alex nearly groan at the way she was practically begging him. He caught her chin into a kiss, this time turning more hot and intense. Her hand drifted to hold the side of his neck, pulling him closer. The flashing light from the camera made the pair deepen the kiss.

Another bang on the booth made them smile through the kiss, slowly pulling away as they heard complaints from the angry couple. She giggled, pecking his swollen lips. “They’re gonna kick us out.” she murmured against his lips, grinning.

“Let them.”

[littlemissthunderstorms]

quiet love- drabble

2007!alex turner x reader

taking care of sick alex (a bit) mostly fluff

———

clicking the overhead light off, you made your way into the bedroom, which was dim and cozy, your lover already tucked into bed. alex’s bedside lamp was on, the bridge of his glasses drooping down his nose as he read through one of your favorite books.

your heart swelled at the sight. he glanced over at you when he noticed you’d entered the room, folding a page to mark his place in the book and setting it on the nightstand. “hey,” you spoke softly, handing him a cup of tea and shuffling under the covers.

he softly thanked you, voice broken and congested. you held the back of your hand to his cheek. “you look all flushed, you want another ibuprofen?” he shook his head. “i took one a bit ago, hasn’t kicked in yet.”

you frowned, feeling sorry that he was so sick. “alright, anything i can do for you?”

alex took his reading glasses off, setting them in the case. “just stay with me,” he croaked. you nodded, scratching his scalp softly, fingertips carding through the short brown hair. “one last thing,” you smiled, quickly hopping up and making your way to the record player, popping in a sinatra vinyl and fiddling with the volume knob so it wasn’t too loud.

he smiled softly, eyes glassy with fever. you scrambled back into bed, propping your neck up on the pillows and positioning so that you were holding him, his head resting on your chest. your hands were a bit cold, but they felt nice on his feverish forehead. you leaned down, kissing the top of his head. “tired?” you asked.

alex made a soft little “mhm” sound and turned so that he was lying on his front, pressed against you with his arms wrapped around your middle. smiling softly at him, you ran your fingers through his hair. he nudged his nose into your collarbone, sighing sweetly.

your kitten jumped up onto the bed, startling you a bit. she pranced atop the pillows, nuzzling herself around your neck and winding her face through the strands of your hair. alex watched, chuckling softly. “she’s like me if i was a cat,” he mumbled. you giggled. “yeah, how so?”

“cause i would do exactly that.” he nodded at how she was purring into your neck, her tail brushing your hair. you smiled at him, cradling his face in your hands, caressing his cheekbone softly with your thumb.

“i love you.”

———

taglist (lmk if you want to be added/removed)- @ultragirrl @inmyownfantasywrld @almluv @raven-ql @ohladymoon @yourstartreatment @missbabyjay @andulina567 @blair-s-world @rentsturner @indierockgirrl @kittyrob0t @averyzversi0n @michelleisheres-blog @kennedy-brooke @madeinuk @mathdebate00