#alex turner x y/n

[junedenim]

what it takes to say goodnight

just him & his girls

warnings: dad!alex, fluff, smut, piv, fingering, mild breeding kink, & so on...

word count: 4.4k

He nearly trips over the cat when he walks in. He mutters curse words to himself before picking Pepper—the cat—up before it runs out the front door. Pepper has always been a calm kitty and she takes well in Alex's arms, though they are full and he struggles through the door before he can finally put everything, including Pepper, down on the floor. She tangles in his legs before running off back into the house.

Alex closes the front door roughly causing one of the magnets that holds a picture of the girls up to fall on the floor loud enough to alert the other residents of the house that he is home.

"Sounds like someone's home," he hears you announce followed by the sudden noise of pattering feet.

He rounds the corner, greeted by two blurs rushing him like linebackers. As always, Willow is quick to talk her mouth going a mile a minute, shouting, "Come look what I made today! Pick me up, daddy, pick me up! Come on!" He can't even keep track of what she is saying most of the time, her mouth going a mile a minute.

Contrasting her twin sister, Wren, his quiet little girl, tugs on his pant leg to get his attention. They've always been this way, even when you were pregnant with them. Willow would kick away and Wren would suck her thumb. Wren speaks when spoken to, preferring to perform motions to express her opinions. Unless it's vegetables, then she cries and yells, "Yuck!"

To combat both girls' interests, he bends down and picks them both up. They are just on the edge of being too heavy for Alex to pick both up at once. But maybe he'll wait until the next birthday to stop doing this. Wren curls into him while Willow hangs off his neck still yapping, "I want mac & cheese for dinner. Mummy said we can so you have to let us. Wen wants it too. Say it, Wen." Willow has always called Wren "Wen." It's adorable and Alex and you can't bear to ever correct it.

Alex turns to Wren, nudging her with a bounce to show her some attention and get her answer. "I want mac & cheese," she says robotically as if Willow trained her to say it.

"Really?" Alex questions. He looks toward you, sitting on the living room rug and watching this exchange. You share a silent laugh with him. You're calm, and he never understands how you managed to hold that through the whole day with the girls. He loves them like nothing else ever but, man, do they tire him out.

"Swear," Willow answers for Wren. "Mummy also said you'd play dolls with us."

You laugh out loud. "I never said that, Will."

Willow thinks otherwise. "Well, maybe you could anyway."

Alex laughs. "We'll see." He feels a strain in his back and decides it's time to put the girls down. Will goes off running back to her toys but Wren hangs on, unable to let go of the comfort. "C'mon Wren. At least let me take my shoes off."

"But you'll come back?" She's completely wide-eyed and worried. Whenever she's in need of reassurance, Alex fears it's his fault. That he went on tour when they were too young and ever since Alex is certain he has caused them abandonment issues. 

He told you this once, late at night, after Wren had cried for him to not leave her alone in her room. He stayed with her until she fell asleep and would have fallen asleep beside her if you hadn't come to collect him. Under the covers, he told you this fear and regret, at first, you laughed, insisting Wren was just clingy. Alex chose to believe you if only to fall asleep that night.  

Sometime after midnight, Wren came into yours and Alex's bedroom, tugging on Alex's hand making sure that he was still there, still breathing, still real. Her little whimpers woke you up. Alex hugged Wren to his chest and you ran a hand down the sensitive girl's back. She kept saying, "You were gone. You left." You tried your best to minimize Alex's worries but he felt this fear to be true and a hidden part of him thinks you blame him too.

Alex kisses Wren's plump baby cheek, placing her tiny feet on the wooden floor. "Always," he assured her. She toddles cautiously back to the toys to join her sister.

But then there's one more girl he has to take care of. "Are you going to make me mac & cheese?" You ask, approaching him, and slinging your arms around his neck. His hand finds its rightful place on the small of your back, the one where you always feel an ache when his hand isn't there.

He pulls you closer to him, pressing her body up against his, your faces so close, your noses just barely not touching. "I'll make you whatever you want." His lips pucker expectantly, waiting for yours to collide with them.

"Anything?" You raise an eyebrow.

He relaxes his lips and quirks a smile. "Yeah, I can make you the unicorn-shaped mac & cheese."

"Wow," you laugh, "you really are my prince charming."

He puckers his lips again. "Hurry up and kiss me, would you?" You give in because he's so cute talking about mac and cheese and there's a flutter in his eyes that you can tell means he had a long day so you won't put up much of a fight, especially when he kisses you just right.

You pull away and ask, "Long day?"

Alex shrugs. "I'm where I want to be now. How was it here?" He runs his hand up and down your right arm.

You sigh as you begin to feel the weight of the day"Good. No fights. Wren didn't nap."

Alex throws his head back. "Don't tell me that." 

That fear ticks away inside him but you grab his hand and squeeze it. "It's not because of you. It allowed me to have Wren & me time considering she's a daddy's girl and Will's constant desire to be the center of attention, but don't tell her I told you that."

He chuckles. "Your secret's safe with me."

"Now come on with the mac & cheese!"

Later, when he's cooking dinner, Wren clings to his leg. Will is singing loudly in the living room and he can hear you clapping along with her. 

"Mac & cheese?" Wren asks him.

"Almost done," Alex promises, picking her up by the straps of her overalls and depositing her onto the counter. "Would you do today? Did you have fun with mummy and Will?"

Wren simply nods with a smile, which is a good sign, no frowns in sight.

But she tugs away at his heart, making grabby hands for him. She's always been clingy, enjoying the feeling of being held, but he can't help but feel that she's spent the whole day missing him, not able to have any fun. 

"Do you maybe want to come to work with me tomorrow, honey?" He knows he should ask you about this and Willow will have to come along or she'll throw a temper tantrum but sometimes he thinks Wren needs a little extra love. She doesn't shout for attention in the manner Willow does. Sometimes she needs to be noticed and needs to feel special.

Then, Wren starts doing that happy gurgle-laugh thing. She swings her legs, tiny socked feet hitting the utensil drawer. She nods quickly, completely excited. "I'll have to talk with mummy about it but you and me will do something special. That sound nice?"

"Yeah!" She squeals and claps her hands. 

Her excitement rubs off on Alex, giving him something to smile about. He nuzzles his nose with hers. He can't get over how precious she is. "Yeah," he repeats, completely content. In moments like this, he doesn't feel like he's completely failed as a parent.

Willow comes walking in, patting her stomach, asking, "Is the mac & cheese ready? I'm 'ungry."

*

Putting the twins to bed can either be the easiest part of the day or the hardest. Wren nearly passes out in the bathtub, running on limited sleep. Willow refuses to stay in bed. When you leave the room, she pops out of bed and starts playing with her toys in the dark. 

Alex goes in to kiss her goodnight after he lays Wren down and finds her bouncing on her bed. She stalls at the sight of Alex, clear that she has been caught out. "Bedtime, missy," he tells her.

She giggles but plops down on her butt. "I'm not tired," she states like there is simply no argument to be made.

Alex sighs and sits on the edge of her tiny bed. "But I'm tired."

"You can go to bed. That's okay, daddy." She touches his arm like she's reassuring him she'll be fine.

Alex huffs a laugh into his hand. He doesn't want Will to get excited that she's making her dad laugh. "I can't go to bed unless you go to bed. It's the rules."

She closes her eyes and flops down on the bed dramatically, pushing the air loudly out of her pillow. "Fine." She seems like she's making an attempt, but then she opens her eyes wide and demands, "Story first."

He knows you probably read her two stories already and he shouldn't give in but you're in the shower and he'll be waiting all alone in bed for you so why shouldn't he kill some time with one of his girls? "One."

She claps her little kiddie hands. "You can pick," she says like she's doing him a favour.

And she kind of is because if he has to read Goldilocks again, he might lose it. "Rumplestiltskin it is." He's always liked it and he knows Will likes the straw turning into gold part. 

He picks up the book of the collected Brothers Grimm fairy tales. Part of him can never deny reading the girls (including you) a story. You all do the same thing: cuddle up beside him, lay your head on his arm, point at the pictures, and say a comment on every sentence if only to make reading time just a bit longer. Will curls his fingers around his forearm and falls asleep halfway through the story but he finishes it anyway. Partly because he knows if Will is pretending to be asleep and he doesn't finish the whole thing she'll insist he has to read her another one. (The other part because he loves the story).

You've just exited the bathroom with wet hair and a towel wrapped around you when Alex enters your bedroom. "Everyone went to sleep alright?" You're going through the drawers, looking for pajamas.

"Yeah. Will had me read her another story but she conked out quick."

You smirk. "Will had you read another story or you wanted to read another story?"

He rolls his eyes at you mocking him before admitting, "Both."

You laugh at him, your sweet boy. The house can feel overrun with girls sometimes, even the cat is a girl, but Alex never seems to mind. He likes all the girlish things the girls like. Tea parties and dress-up, although, he did get noticeably a little more excited when the girls started kicking around a football. But then Alex just said, "Girls are better at football anyway." 

He's better at tea parties than football anyway. He doesn't even try to pretend to lose to the girls when they play 2 v. 1 with him. They are sneaky and tiny and like Pepper does, they wrap around and slide through his legs to kick into his goal. Meanwhile, he thrives at the tea parties, drinking whatever concoction the girls make, even if it tastes like plastic. You always pretend to sip but Alex is the real deal. Always has been.

"Did you miss me while I was gone?" He asks, leaning against the wall, trying to tempt you.

You smile, dropping the towel, leaving you naked in his view for five seconds before you toss a T-shirt over your head. "No, not really."

The T-shirt is red and he's like a bull as he charges toward you, picks you up, and lands both of you on the bed. You're giggling affectionately into the kiss and it's completely loved-up and lovely and you both love that but Alex and you clearly want more. You push him up, off of your lips. "Shut the door."

Sex with the kids can be challenging. Before you did it every time, every surface you could find. Now, you mostly do it at night, rarely in the morning because the girls are always up early. You can't do it every night. Sometimes you can tell the girls didn't fall asleep or you're tired or Alex passed out while you were in the shower. 

Despite the scheduling-sounding nature of things, sex still seems spontaneous. Like a random gust of wind felt upon the skin. Alex always makes things exciting and after doing it more times than you can count, it never bores. The predictability of it is what makes it so charged, so romantic, so sexual, so loving. You can tell by the thrust of his hips whether he's close or not. He can tell by the furrow of your brow whether he's hitting that spot in you or not. It has always felt right.

He's fast in his steps, locking the door, and pretty much launching himself back onto the bed. He covers you, completely all over you, kissing you, feeling you up. He reaches under your shirt, pushing it up to expose your boobs, but not taking it off. He grabs them, a fistful at first, then just the nipple. He kisses down your neck, over the collection of your shirt's fabric, onto the skin of your boobs, and then the areola, licking over the wrinkles of it before meeting the erected nipple.

There are times when you do devote time to foreplay. Alex loves it. You love it. Both ways. You both have always been reciprocal naturally. You never need to ask the other for more. In fact, more often you ask for less. Like...

"This feels really nice," you tell him, "but I'm tired and I know you're tired so just fuck me, okay?"

"Okay," he agrees, breathing heavily already. He stands to take his clothes off. You don't bother shedding the top. He can fondle your boobs just fine with it still on and it provides an emergency cover if one of the girls walks in.

Alex lays back on you intently, kissing you harshly. You reach down to hold his cock, pumping him a few times before his hand takes over and slides into you. The idea of it is quick but the pace is rocking, not fast, not slow, just right. You furrow your brows and arch up into him. He reaches into the space underneath the arch and holds you, completely skin-to-skin. He lays kisses on your neck in no particular pattern like he isn't even trying to turn you on more, he just wants to do it. 

You grip the back of his head's hair, clumps in your compressed grasp. "More," you urge, needing just a little more to tip over.

His mouth moves next to your ear, whispering, "Want me to fuck another baby into you?"

It makes you snort a laugh right in the middle of sex. You have to physically stop his hips from moving as you collect your breath. "What? Another set of twins?"

"Yeah. With my super sperm." He's jokingly bragged about that with you since you found out you were having twins. You corrected him and said it was your eggs that made the twins since they're fraternal. He said, "No, it was a really good load, I remember." It's always made you laugh.

"Twin boys now?" You ask.

He shrugs. "Or more girls? I don't mind."

Everything about him is calm, but there is sincerity in all of it. "Are we seriously talking about more kids while you're inside me?"

Alex makes small movements inside you. "Yeah, come on." He leans closer and closer to you. "We make cute kids. The girls are older. I know you want it."

You place your hands on his shoulders. "Right now I just want you so can we do that part before the 9-month part?"

He nods. "Cart before the horse."

You laugh and tug him down into your shoulder. You whisper into his ear as his hips begin to move harder and harder, "Fuck a baby into me."

Alex chuckles and kisses your jugular. He quickens, both of you feeling an ache for release conjuring inside you. He moves harder and pulls your hips to him. He's doing all the work, but he doesn't mind, he likes doing this for you, likes being good for you. That's all he wants to do.

"That feel good?" He has asked this almost every time you've had sex like, no matter what, even after doing this for years, he wants to make sure it's as good as the last time.

You hum in the affirmative, feeling too overwhelmed to talk clearly. Your grip around his neck tightens as you drag him closer down to you. He keeps thrusting into you hard, skin hitting skin sounding across the room. 

"So fucking tight," he groans into your ear. 

His pace is quick, erratic, and eager. His breath is heavy and filled with soft grunts. His hands are rough, squeezing on your hips. You know he's holding on for you but you want him to enjoy it too. It doesn't always have to be about you. "Let go," you tell him. 

But he's hot for it, not rejecting your request like you thought he would. "You want it?" He asks.

You nod, fluttering eyes.

"Tell me," he says, pounding deep.

You scrap your nails down his back soothingly. "I want it. Deep in me." He hums, requesting more without saying it. "Fill me up with your cum. Please."

Maybe it's your words, maybe it's how close he was, or maybe it's both, but he cums instantly after, deep inside you, filling you up. He groans and pants into your neck. He rests inside you, holding everything in, while he catches his breath. You comb your fingers through his hair, calming him.

He raises his head so he's looking down on you. "You okay?"

You softly smile, exhaustion hovering over you. "Yeah."

"You don't cum," he comments.

You shrug. "I got what I wanted."

Alex grunts. "God, you're gonna make me cum again."

You push him up, making him hiss at the sensitivity. "Don't," you command.

He pulls out slowly and before you can even say anything, he's got his fingers inside you, keeping all that cum in, making a mess on his finger. It takes you off guard, making you moan instantly. He's quick with everything, knowing you want to go to bed, hoping to release the tension and ease you into relaxation.

His two fingers shove in and out of you rapidly. He curls them just in the right spot, making you moan, "Fuck." His thumb grazes over your clit, just like how he knows to do it. It's messy, the whole thing is a mess, but it feels like the hottest thing ever, and soon your hips are unable to stay still and you're coming.

It's your turn to catch your breath and he's licking your shared cum off his hands. He makes a face. "I don't think I've ever tasted my own cum."

You reach out and grab his hand, taking the still-dirty finger into your mouth, and licking it clean. "You've made me taste both before."

He kisses your lips before getting off the bed to grab tissues. "Don't act like it was against your will. I recall you liking it."

You sigh, sitting up and fixing your shirt. "We're gonna have to change the sheets."

Alex hands you a few tissues and says, "I'll do it. You clean yourself up." You'll always accept him doing all the work.

*

It’s three in the morning when a tiny hand shakes Alex awake, and he opens his eyes to find Wren there holding her stuffed teddy bear against her chest, cheeks wet from crying. “I wet the bed.”

“Oh,” Alex says, while his heart rate settles. He looks around to get his bearings and finds you out of it to his right, curled up on your side. He blinks the last vestiges of sleep from his eyes as Wren sniffles miserably, and he pushes up to wipe her jaw dry. “Hey, it’s okay, baby. It just happens sometimes, alright?”

“But I'm not ‘posed to,” she croaks. “I’m supposed to be a big girl now. I’m sorry.”

“No, hey,” Alex kisses her forehead. “It’ll be fine, come on.”

She holds onto his hand and he leads her into the bathroom, running the water to warm and filling the tub with strawberry-scented bubbles. Once she’s in, he lets her play with her rubber ducks for a while to calm down. She splashes them and chews on their tails and presses their drawn-on smiles to his cheek as a kiss. "Muah," she says, and he loves her so much it hurts.

He runs a hand over her damp hair. “I’m gonna go fix your bed, okay? Just keep playing.”

Wren nods, so he leaves her with the door wide open and the light cascading into the hall. Strips her bed of the old sheets and carries them over to the wash. When he comes back, she’s resting her chin against the edge of the tub, waiting for him.

His head tilts, looking down at her big eyes on her little face. “Hey, Peanut.”

“Hi,” she says, timid. “Do you still love me?”

Alex frowns and sits down in front of her on the cold tile. “Why wouldn’t I still love you?”

“M’no good,” she whispers. “M’not small anymore, and I miss you all the time, and—”

“Alright, hey,” Alex cuts in gently, pushing her hair behind her ears to hold her face, all flushed chubby cheeks. He hates himself. Feels like he has made her feel this way. Made her feel unloved and he'll beat himself up for it every day. Never forgive himself for making her doubt his love. "I know I’ve been gone a lot, and I’m really sorry, but I miss you the whole time I’m away. All I wanna do is be here with you, okay? I promise. I love you,” he says, kissing her freckled nose and watching it crinkle up, “so much. I hope you know that.”

She nods, bites her lower lip, and chews. “You love mummy?”

“Yes,” Alex says. “Tons.”

“Is tons a lot?” She asks, and he notices her eyes flit over his shoulder, which gives him a pretty good idea of why she’s asking.

“It is,” he confirms, glancing behind him and finding you in the doorway, hair thrown up, wearing that ratty old red tee. You grin and lean against the door jamb, eyes soft. “The better question is: does mummy love daddy?”

You laugh. “Tons squared,” she promises. “Come on, it’s bedtime, baby.”

“Can I sleep with you?” Wren asks, anxious.

Alex kisses her cheek. “Of course,” he says and leans around her to pull the drain. You come over to help her dry off and Alex goes to grab her fresh pajamas. You both help her dress because she’s all sleepy from the warmth of the bath, and she’d get lost in her shirt if you weren’t around. Alex picks her up and carries her to their bed, laying her down between them so they can both hold her.

"You okay, honey?" You ask Wren, running your fingers through her hair, calming her like you do for him.

She nods, her eyes slowly closing, sleep taking her away from you.

Alex kisses her cheek lightly, not wanting to disturb her sleep. "Love you."

You repeat his action, kissing her baby skin cheek. "Me too." But she's already fallen asleep, exhausted from her little life.

You look across at Alex, his eyes cautiously looking over Wren. "Hey," you whisper to him to grab his attention. His gaze meets yours, his eyes solemn, but affectionate. "Love you."

He smiles because that's just what he needs. That's all he'll ever need. "Me too."

*

A hand pushes on your back somewhere around 4 in the morning. You turn around at the expected sight: Willow holding her stuffed teddy bear, thumb in her mouth, scared little eyes.

"What's wrong, baby?" You ask her, reaching out and smoothing back her messy hair.

"I had a night'are." Her voice wobbles. Alex and Wren are still sound asleep. You reach down to pick her up, laying her on your chest and hugging her to you, wanting to keep her safe from all the evil things awakening her.

"Everything's okay," you reassure.

"What's wrong?" You turn to see Alex, alert and worried rubbing his eyes.

"Nightmare."

Willow turns her head to look at her dad. "Oh," she says, "there's Wen. I was scared she wasn't where she was."

Alex reaches his arm over a sleeping Wren and rubs Willow's back, hushing her rapid heartbeat. "She's been in here. She got scared too but she's okay. She's sleeping now."

Willow keeps her voice low, understanding to keep quiet. "I went lookin' for her but she wasn't in her room."

"Why did you go to her room, honey? Why didn’t you come in here?" You ask.

"'Cause I always go there when I'm scared. Wen goes 'Everyting's okay' and then I know it will be 'cause she said so." She's so sweet, she hides it sometimes, doesn't like to give it away, she's careful with who she gives it to and you're sure nobody loves someone like Willow and Wren love each other. For that, Alex doesn't have to worry. He knows Willow and Wren will always look out for each other.

You kiss Willow's cheek and slide her carefully next to Wren. The bed is just big enough to fit you all but you have to hold steady to not tip off the bed. The girls are comfortable though and that's all that matters.

"We should sleep in here all the time," Willow says.

You and Alex both laugh quietly at your little girl. "Maybe," Alex says.

"Pep should be here too."

So, Alex goes and gets Pepper.

*

a/n: i hope the names are fine. i just tried to pick two twin-sounding names. whatever that means.

[doctor-dusk]

𝐛𝐚𝐛𝐲, 𝐰𝐞 𝐨𝐮𝐠𝐡𝐭 𝐭𝐨… 𝐟𝐮𝐜𝐤 | 𝐚𝐥𝐞𝐱 𝐭.

what would a musician be without his inspiring muse? 

warnings: soft dom!alex, smut, oral (both receiving), bit of anal playing, spitting, unprotected sex (piv). i think that's all, folks.

word count: 4.1k

i wrote most of this last year on a crowded bus on my way back from college, an old lady gave me a dirty look, but it's worth it. probably the dirtiest smut i've ever written so far because i was bored with my job today. hope you enjoy it :3

you had just gotten out of the shower. the skin of your shoulders and chest was still wet and the scent of grapefruit soap still perfumed the bathroom when you left the room amid a thin curtain of steam from the warm water. alex found it funny that you loved warm showers, even though it was almost forty degrees outside. you were wrapped in a dark gray cotton bathrobe, your hair was wrapped in a towel of the same color and you were drying your face with a white face towel. 

you noticed that alex was in exactly the same position since the last glimpse you had of him before entering the bathroom. he was sitting in a position that was not very comfortable visually speaking, wearing only moss green cargo shorts. his head was resting on his right hand, which held a pencil with a worn tip between his fingers, while his left hand was busy with a half-smoked cigarette, which released a thin curtain of smoke that escaped through the open window in front of him, his guitar resting on his lap, untouchable. 

he had been staring at the page of his notebook for almost twenty minutes. there were a few scribbles on the corners, loose words, but nothing that formed a sentence, much less something that made sense to him.

you tilted your head to see his face, seeing that his eyes were closed now, his hair, which was usually combed back, falling over his forehead, with some of the ends of the strands tickling his lowered eyelids. you gave a weak smile, hanging the face towel on the window and standing behind him, taking advantage of the exposed left side of his neck to give him a little kiss.

‘’what's up, huh?’’ you asked, giving him another little kiss and feeling his skin shiver with the contact of your lips.

‘’it’s all crap.’’ he grumbled, dropping the pencil on the table and straightening his posture, feeling you raise your hands to massage his shoulders. ‘’you know when you really want to write something, you have the idea in your head, but you just…’’ he said, his tone frustrated as he held the guitar. you knew alex well enough to know that he already felt this way before you even asked. you knew his frown, his sullen voice, his strong drag on his cigarette as if he were breathing the air with anger, and maybe he was.

‘’i know.” you answered in an understanding tone, letting your fingers massage the tense and stiff muscles in his shoulders. “but you’ll make it, you always do. you have a mini genius inside you who can think of the most incredible lyrics in the world in the blink of an eye.” you continued encouraging him, lightly tapping his forehead, watching him shake his head subtly.

“well, guess what: this genius is probably on vacation and i didn’t know about it.” turner replied. for a second, you liked to think that alex really did have a miniature of himself in his head, and that at the moment he was just wearing a pair of swim trunks while sunbathing on some paradisiacal beach on the italian coast. “or he must have died, i don’t know.” he finished with another mumble, leaving the guitar leaning against the wall next to it, standing upright and without any risk of falling.

‘’oh, you're so dramatic, turner.’’ you laughed, dragging his last name because of your accent. ‘’you just need some time. maybe relax. you demand too much of yourself.’’

“you know i've always been like this.” he replied, taking one last drag of his cigarette before putting it out by rubbing the butt on the wooden window frame. you've lost count of how many marks there were on the window frame from rubbing the butts of his cigarettes, but you never complained to him.

alex picked up the pencil again, pressing the end of the eraser to his cheek, glancing at the moment you walked around the chair, making a little space to sit on his lap. he felt the scent of the soap a little more intensely on your body, especially when you wrapped both arms around his neck.

alex liked it when you did that without warning, and you liked it even more. you liked the way he wrapped his long arms around you, letting his big hand wander around your waist, following the path further south and leaving it positioned on the warm skin of your left thigh, gently patting it in a caressing manner.

even though he was stuck in his little musical world, he didn't stop giving you the attention you deserved, even if it was just a little. but you knew he wouldn't be able to do anything now, not being so tense.

you had an idea, laying your head on top of his head, since the position you were in favor of the fact that you were sitting a little higher on his lap. you smelled the faint scent of shampoo in his hair, sliding your nose over his scalp, going down a little to kiss his temple, and then his cheek, and then his jaw. you kissed him as far as your mouth could reach, feeling his skin in contact with your lips and feeling the muscle in his cheek contract as he gave a small smile.

‘’what do you think you're doing, huh?’’ he asked, tilting his head a little to the left so he could look at you, but you were more focused on continuing to trail your kisses down his body, each kiss going down proportionally to the point that you had to get off his lap to get between his legs. ‘’you're distracting me, y’know?’’ he pretended to grumble in protest, but you knew him well enough to know that he was far from angry or bored by the fact that you were doing this.

“that's the intention.” you answered with a slightly muffled voice because you were kissing his belly now, letting your fingers slide over the skin of his abdomen in a slowly torturous way to reach the button of his shorts. not even if alex wanted to, he would be able to hide the shiver he felt with this simple act.

“you're crazy.” he laughed, now lightly nibbling the eraser on the tip of the pencil, his eyes not leaving your figure kneeling in front of him for even a second. it was almost majestic for him to see you like that, at an angle he loved, by the way.

“for you? of course.” he heard you retort in the same tone, feeling you unbutton his shorts and lower the zipper with one hand, while the other was resting on his knee. “but you like it.”

��i didn’t say i didn’t like it.” he said, dropping the pencil on the desk at the exact moment your hand reached the hem of his underwear, letting your fingers curl around the elastic to threaten to pull it down.

but you did it so slowly that it actually hurt him. by now, he was already throbbing just at the thought of feeling your hand wrap around him, or feeling your tongue play with the tip, or simply feeling every inch of him burying himself inside you. it awakened unbearable agony in him.

“you're such a twat.” he said through gritted teeth, squeezing the edge of the desk with his fingers. you raised an eyebrow as you feigned offense, threatening to stop. ‘’no, no, love, i didn't mean that, it's just…’’ he said in a frustrated tone with himself, watching you laugh and lower the piece again enough for his cock to practically jump out.

you saw how impossibly hard he was, with some veins marked all over his length, from the base to the beginning of the tip, which by the way was already merely lubricated with precum. it seemed to be calling your name, totally ready to let you wrap your hand around it and swallow it to the last inch, whether with your mouth or with your cunt.

you didn't waste time, you were as eager as he was. your tongue slid deliciously over the tip, tasting him and watching him suck in air forcefully between his teeth. it was as addictive and tasty as the sight you had of him, feeling his hand grab the back of your head, guiding your swollen lips to start swallowing him slowly.

as much as he had that urgency to see you choke on his cock, he could be content with feeling your warm mouth envelop the tip, your delicate hand stayed around the base, pumping slowly and gently and holding it firmly to make him erect as he entered more on your mouth. 

turner was already starting to feel the slight spasms with the vibration of your throat on his cock when you let out a muffled moan. he’s not the kind of guy who is a fan of advance warnings, because when you least expected it, you felt him bucking his hips, making you feel him deep in your throat, which made you cough. he moaned shamelessly when you pulled your head away to get some air, playing with his tip with your tongue, giving it kittenish licks from every possible angle before putting him back in my mouth, swallowing him again without him having to move again.

“oh, so fucking good…” he groaned, letting his head fall back, delighting in the feeling of your warm mouth wrapping around his cock, taking him deeper, feeling your throat closing around the tip. he felt his senses overwhelmed, every fiber of his body contracting as your tongue swirled around his pulsing length.

he looked down at you at some point, your eyes locked on his, he couldn't even try to explain how crazy he went when you looked at him like this, hypnotizing him with your warm mouth and enigmatic eyes, wide like cherry pies.

“such a good girl for me. you're going to make me want to put composition aside to fuck you.” he growled, his fist closing around the towel wrapped on your head.

“you say that like it's a bad thing.’’ you pouted, kissing his tip several times and he chuckled, moving his hand to run his thumb on your cheek, looking tenderly at you.

“baby, you know i love fucking you. really.” he purred, holding his cock and gesturing for you to open your mouth, tapping his shaft on your tongue, the slapping sound adding to the pleasure of both. ‘’love feeling your mouth, your tongue, your pussy clenching around my cock…’’ he continued, his words sending slight jolts of lust through your body. he always knew what to say to make you even wetter.

‘’mhm, so we should fuck, y'know?’’ you said, swirling your tongue around his tip, your eyes pleading for him. you said that like you hadn't already fucked that morning.

‘’we should.’’ he agreed with you, pulling the towel from your head, massaging your scalp, the damp strands of your hair tangled in his fingers. ‘’stand up and turn around.’’ he said in a gentle order, patting your neck lightly.

you giggled, obeying him without a second thought, standing up and turning on your heels, the open window overlooking the deserted street was all you had. could there be people passing by or neighbors who might appear at their apartment windows at any moment? possibly.

but you didn't care much about that as you felt alex untying the knot of your robe while standing behind you, you could feel his hard cock rubbing against your thigh as he made you bend over the desk, your bare tits pressing on top of his notebook. the rough paper pages combined with alex's hands holding the hem of your robe makes your nipples harden, the cotton fabric reached halfway down your back, your lower body exposed to him like a full meal.

“you smell so good.” he hummed, dragging his nose over the skin of your left buttock as if he were snorting coke, your soft skin and your refreshing post-shower scent made him want to melt all over you. he was completely crazy about you.

“it's because i took a shower.” you laughed, feeling his teeth sinking into your skin as if he wanted to take a bite, and he would do that if he could. he could devour you and not waste a thing.

“nah. just your natural scent. and a bit of grapefruit.” he hummed, his large hands gripping your buttcheeks, separating them to reveal your two puckering holes, your cunt already drooling, needing him to take care of it.

his mouth watered at the sight as his cock throbbed in need. he didn't think twice or wait for you to beg for him, his tongue was already darting out to taste you, collecting your slimy juices, feeling that his guts were being blessed by your taste, like a sweet nectar.

you gasped softly, your forehead resting on the rigid wood desk, his tongue molding between your slick folds as the tip of his nose tickled your asshole, making it gap at the slightest touch. the wet muscle made its way upwards, sinking into your needy hole, going as far as he could, holding your buttocks tightly to keep them apart.

you muffled your moans as he fucked you with his tongue, biting your arm to prevent some loud moaning. his tongue moved up just a bit, licking your perineum just to tease your tight hole, circling the spot with the tip of his tongue, making you squirm.

“too bad we're out of lube.” he sighed, more to himself than to you. he knew you still could try it just like this, lubricating you with lots of spit and stretch you with his fingers until you were relaxed enough to accommodate his cock, but he didn't want to risk hurting you and consequently never wanting to try again. 

you chuckled softly, remembering that you're indeed out of lube. alex ended up overdoing it last time because he felt like it was never enough. or maybe he just liked to see how easily he could fuck you from behind, seeing how his cock disappeared inside your hole that was tighter and warmer than your pussy.

“maybe next time?” you suggested, feeling the tip of his tongue threatening to enter, the sensation almost overwhelming you. 

“yeah. i'll remember to buy the whole supply of lube next time i stop by the drugstore.” he said, giving you one last lick, one of his hands went down to stroke his cock lightly, he was hard as a rock at this point, aching to be inside you. his internal struggle with music could wait a bit.

alex's right hand spread your right ass cheek while his left hand guided his cock to your entrance, playing a bit with you, his tip threatening to enter, making a small “pop” when he pulled back. you were about to complain about it, but your unspoken words disappeared when he eased inside you, his thick cock filling every space as if it was molded especially for you.

“oh fuck, yes…” you gasped, your hands closing into fists on the edges of the desk, your knuckles turning white as he bottomed out slowly, pulling back until he saw his tip, slamming back inside your cunt again.

“fucking love this pussy, did i tell you that already?” he groaned, lifting your leg so you could bend more on the desk, allowing him to bury his cock deeper inside your clenching walls. 

“everyday.” you said. you almost smiled at the thought if he wasn't picking up his pace gradually, your mind and body filled by him and only him. his fingers gripping the flesh of your ass cheeks, leaving a red mark upon their wake. 

alex collected a small amount of saliva on his mouth, angling his head to spat directly on your asshole, watching how it slided, coating his cock as he moved in and out of you at a frantic pace, the desk hitting the wall with each violent thrust. 

he couldn't help but brought his thumb there, circling the tight ring teasingly, threatening to go in a little bit more and more, until the tip of his thumb went through, stretching you just a little, but it was enough to make you gasp and clench more around him.

“do you like that, hmm? do you like having your holes filled by me?" he growled when he reached your ear, his thumb sinking deeper into your hole until his knuckle, making you squirm even more, whining in pleasure as you nodded, the idea of letting him take you from behind like this didn't sound so bad even with the lack of lube. “dirty little thing.”

you brought your hand to your clit, your eager fingers trying to build the pleasure faster as your body heated up, like there's an inferno inside you. but no, it was alex. just alex.

alex notices your subtle moves between your legs, his thumb abandoning your gaping hole to grab your wrist, pinning it behind your back, holding it tightly with his other free hand.

“no. only i can do this.” he said, his voice sounding demanding and authoritative despite the husky tone. it wasn't like you couldn't touch yourself, but he loved the idea of touching you, of being the only reason you're completely destroyed after he's done with you. he wanted to be everything to you and do everything for you.

your hand was replaced by his, his fingers already coated with your wetness when he rubbed against your folds, feeling the outline of his cock sliding in and out of you, filling you to the brim and even making you stand on the tip of your toes.

“a-alex, i'm gonna cum, please…” you panted, almost passing out, he was taking you so hard, like he was angry or frustrated with you. yeah, he was frustrated, but not with you. never with you.

“yeah, i know, baby.” he whispered, rubbing your clit sloppily because of the position, but still making you go crazy with his movements, hitting that sweet spot inside you over and over again, determined to reduce you to a crying mess as you came on his cock and your body collapses onto the desk. 

in no time, the feeling of orgasm hits you hard, your whole body lost all strength and you felt the knot in your stomach undoing abruptly, your breath completely disappearing for a few seconds, replaced by a moan that was almost a scream.

contrary to what you thought, he didn't stop there. firstly, you didn't even know why you thought he would stop. he never stops after your first orgasm.

he flipped you over, slipping out of you just to fill you up again, not even giving you time to open your eyes to look at him, forcing your sore pussy to accommodate his veiny and angry cock once again.

“too cockdrunk already?” he smirks at your wrecked state, making you rest your calves on his shoulders. you didn't even need to answer him, even because you could barely form coherent words.

he continued at the same intensity while you tried to escape because you were already crying and didn't know if you could handle the overstimulation he was giving you, your legs wobbly like jelly failing on his sides, being supported by his forearms since his hands were gripping your thighs, preventing you from running away or closing your legs.

“come for me again, darlin’. i know you can do it.” alex said to you, his voice sounding like a rough melody as his face came close to yours, placing kisses along your jaw. 

and again, another orgasm consumed you in a much more intense way, your cervix hurt and you felt that you're so aroused and wet that it was already running down your legs as you cried out.

“so pretty.” he praised you, his index finger strolling through your half-open lips, passing through them and entering your mouth, pressing on your tongue. “wider.” he commanded, putting more pressure on your tongue with his finger, forcing you to open your mouth wider.

he took his finger out of your mouth, squeezing your face with his firm hand as he spat inside your mouth, hitting your tongue and the back of your throat. it didn't catch you by surprise, actually. it just turned you on, even if you were already at the height of your sensitivity.

“swallow.” he tapped your cheek, allowing you to swallow it without even thinking, opening your mouth and sticking your tongue out just to show him that you did it. “good fucking girl.” he said proudly, his cock twitching at your submissive side, teetering the edge. “fuck, 'm gonna cum, baby. where do you want?”

“inside me.” you answered without thinking twice. it wasn't like you didn't like it when he came on your face or in your mouth or on your tits. but you liked the primal feeling of him spilling all his cum inside you. he chuckled darkly.

“greedy. want my cum all to yourself?” he asked and you nodded, finding the strength to lock your legs around him as he picked up his pace slightly, chasing his own release after making you cum twice. 

“you know that i love it when you fill me up.” you whispered, propping yourself up on your elbows to reach his bottom lip, nibbling it gently as he grabbed you, holding you close as his head sank into the curve of your neck.

“oh fuck, f-fuck…” he choked on his own words as he came inside you, spilling jets his seed deep inside your cunt to the point that it leaked out, staining your legs and your bathrobe. “jesus fucking…” he paused, catching his breath as the last remnants leave his body to fill you. “christ.”

you finally could let your body dismantle on the desk, your head resting on the window sill, your blurry vision trying to get used to the view of the blue sky on that particularly sunny afternoon. 

“you good?” he asked you, still buried deep inside you, giving you sweet kisses along your stomach. 

“always good with you.” you smiled at him when he reached your chest, resting his head on your left boob, listening to the rapid beating of your heart. 

“you just gave me an idea, y'know?” he whispered to you, his warm and ragged breathing tickling your skin. “my beautiful inspiring muse. don't know what would become of me without you.”

“you flatter me.” you chuckled, running your hand through his messy hair, his sweaty scalp moistened the tips of your fingers. 

“just telling the truth.” he chuckled along with you, his pretty and wide eyes looking at you in awe. “i love you.” he whispered again, as if he was sharing a secret that only you needed to know.

you looked back at him, taking the sight of his face so close to yours. you were looking at him with that loving gaze while you felt the blood flow increase in your veins because your heart was beating too fast. but it was impossible not to have that feeling when looking at his slightly contorted mouth as he absentmindedly bit the inside of his cheek, his cheekbones were flushed and his eyes again took on that slightly greenish brown hue when the light reflected off them in that underexposure of colors that matched the ebony of his hair unruly now without the hair gel.

yeah, you loved him too.

“i love you too.” you answered him, seeing the smile forming on his lips, the corners of his eyes getting a bit wrinkly. you loved these little features of him. 

he leaned in to kiss you, his body moved and consequently his soft cock slipped out of you, you both groaning softly at the disconnection. but the kiss made it better. 

“i’ll have to take another shower.” you mumbled between his lips when you felt his cum running out of you, running down your thighs. he chuckled, it wasn't like you're complaining, much less that he had regretted it. “when will you work on your idea?”

he pretended to think, his lips still sealed in yours.

“after the shower.” he blowed some air inside your mouth like he was inflating a balloon. you laughed, rolling your eyes. he always played these stupid pranks on you, but you loved it. 

“will you join me?" you asked with raised eyebrows.

“only if you have me.” 

you didn't have to answer him.

[indeediagree]

Hes so babygirl

[elementaryhallelujahs]

ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ fingers dimming the lights

mdni, 18+ only

the home office is bathed in warm, ambient light—it always is at this time of the night, familiar and soothing, exactly like the figure sat at the desk, hunched over her laptop. alex knows her work schedule is erratic, she works with people all over the world like he does, different time zones and different countries, and not that she’s a slave to her laptop but she does work a tad too much if you ask him. 

still, he lets her be and stays in the corner of the room, flicking through his book. he lets her be that is, until he sees her rubbing her eyes tiredly and stifle another yawn. she reaches for the mug next to her, brings it to her lips, and frowns. it’s empty. 

then she stretches like a cat—back arched, arms elongated—before curling into herself. that, evidently, does it for him. 

silently, he sets the book aside and walks up behind her. she barely even notices until his hands are on her shoulders, feeling the knots in her muscles, trying to massage the tension away. 

“you’re tired,” alex tuts and feels her shrug. “come to bed. it’s almost ten.”

she snorts lightly. “you know i can’t for another two hours at least, besides, i’ll be free tomorrow. then i’m all yours.”

“you’re already all mine,” he teases and kneads the knots again. (he does make a mental note though, to get her a proper warm bath tomorrow; bubbles and salts and candles and all.)

“come on, love,” alex tries again but she only hums a bit. and then she turns to him with a full pout. 

“i wish, babe. but i’ve got to have a very grown-up, professional zoom call while trying to hide the fact that i’m wearing pyjama bottoms. two more hours, i promise.”

and just like that she’s back to facing her laptop, back to clacking away on the keyboard, making that soothing sound of her nails against it that he loves so much. right now, alex bends down and kisses her neck gently. 

“when does your call start?”

“umm, eleven…”

the suspicion in her voice makes him grin and then he places a few more kisses down her neck and on her shoulders. 

“could relax you a little till then,” he murmurs, “put you in a better mood.”

she tilts her head up to him and laughs. “what’s got you in a mood, sweet boy?”

the moniker makes him smile wider. his fingers continue tracing soothing patterns, and his lips leave gentle kisses on the nape of her neck. 

“just need you to take a short break, ’s all. your laptop won't run away, baby, the the call is still an hour away.”

the next time alex looks at her, there’s a mischievous glint in her eyes. that, and the way she subtly bites her lower lip… and alex knows he’s won her over 

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

the first thing he does is lay her down on the bed, then he dims the lights until their bedroom is just as cosy as her workspace—all warm and golden. 

the anticipation of it has definitely gotten to her. alex can almost see her trembling on the bed, back slightly arched, her nipples peaking out from her thin t-shirt, hair an effortless mess. the sight of her sends his neurons into overdrive and he feels the familiar tingling as all his blood rushes south.

“let me take care of you, darling,” he whispers, “just relax for me…”

his words effect her immediately, make her toes curl and her mouth part almost as if she’s anticipating the gasp that he will draw out of her. 

“there’s my sweet girl,” he trails a hand over her leg—starting from her ankle and up her calf and then up her thigh until his fingers are at her hip. the knot of her pyjama shorts is next. 

all he has to do is give it a light tug before he’s sliding it off her legs. she helps by lifting up her hips, then eagerly shimmies out of her underwear. 

“look at you now,” alex teases. then he leans down, his lips dangerously close to her stomach. "come on, baby," he purrs, “spread your legs for me.”

something like a whimper and a moan echoes around the room and alex drags a finger through her slit, lazily collecting the wetness, coaxing her and spreading her open while his mouth presses kisses all over. her lower stomach first, then her thighs. meanwhile, his thumb finds her clit and a jolt goes through her body. 

“fuck fuck fuck alex…” she moans out loud and a thrill goes down his spine. 

fuck, here he is—tasting her and touching her and making her feel this way. his girl, she is his girl. and oh he’s never been one to be primal and possessive but all he can think about at the moment is that she is his. 

she is his and he is hers. 

and he loves her. 

he loves her so fucking much.

she gasps when he sucks on her clit, letting his teeth graze it gently every once in a while. her thighs tremble under his hands, her muscles shifts and alex doesn’t stop her at all when she squeezes her thighs together—the pressure on his head is delicious and spine-tingling anyway. it’s heady and intoxicating, just like her scent, her taste. 

“oh god, al,” she moans loudly. “fuck, just like that…” her fingers tangle in his hair, tugging and pulling while she squirms under his touch, grinds herself against his face and alex takes it all.

his tongue laps at her folds, his nose pushing against her clit and her screams are like music to his ears. better than anything he’s ever heard. better than anything he’s ever created.

his cock throbs desperately, twitching and hard, dying to feel her clenching around his now, to feel her squeezing him until his vision goes white and he fills her up. he can practically see the image in front of his eyes—his cum dripping out of her, making a mess on her thighs. mess that he could clean up with his tongue or with his fingers and push all of it back inside her. fill her up completely. 

she clenches around nothing then and for a moment alex almost cums in his pants. but he can tell she’s close now. her hips rock against his face and her thighs squeeze his head harder. nails dig into his scalp making him hiss but she’s so close, he can almost taste her release on his tongue. 

“so perfect for me,” he urges and lets his teeth drag over her clit again. “let me taste you, darling, yeah? i know you’re close.”

“so, so close…” she trails off and alex can’t resist the urge to place a kiss on her thigh. a soft request maybe or even a way to coax her. 

“let go for me then,” he breathes and pushes his thumb against her clit. his tongue thrusts inside her again and she mewls out his name again. louder than before.

“don’t stop, al, don’t—” and he feels it then, feels her drenching his lips and his chin. feels the spasm of her thighs and feels her ragged breaths reverberating through her body. 

just like she requested, he doesn’t stop. he laps up every last drop she has to over, fucks her with his tongue till she’s completely done riding out her orgasm. only once he feels her body go slack does he straighten. 

and alex is met with the loveliest sight he can imagine.

her hair is sprawled all over the pillow, messy and gorgeous. her face is flushed, lip bitten till it’s raw and red. alex sees a sliver of her underboob from where her t-shirt rode up but it’s when he looks at her thighs does he see all the red marks he’s left behind… 

all the kisses and hickeys and slight stubble burn. light bruises on her thighs from holding onto her so tight. 

she’s marked and some primal part of him can’t get enough of the sight. 

quickly alex moves to her and captures her mouth in his. her tongue slides in his mouth instantly, and alex knows she can taste herself on his tongue. quietly, she moans in his mouth and he feels like he’s going to burst right then.

but there’s the matter of the fucking call…

he has no idea how much time has passed but he knows she needs to leave soon while he tosses and turns restlessly in their bed, surrounded by the scent of her, still tasting her—

“where are you going?” her voice comes out as a breathless rasp and alex realises he’s pulling away. 

“well… well, i though you had the call, love…” 

she clicks her tongue and her smile turns into her grin. 

“oh you’re not leaving this bed,” she declares. “i’m texting them that i don’t feel well.”

slowly, a smile spreads over his face and alex shudders under her touch. 

“whatever happened to being adult and professional,” he teases breathlessly but she’s already pulling up his t-shirt, already lifting it over his head. 

“oh no,” she tuts, “none of that. not when i have much better things to do…”

[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!”

[mywritingonlyfans]

Teacher's pet. // Prof!Alex Turner X Stud!Reader (Smut) Part 1 of 3.

prompt: (Age Gap/Smut) Alex, an undergraduate professor, wasn't known for his friendliness until he found himself gradually warming up to you. Your remarkable writing skills, particularly directed at his class, heightened his interest even further. He's determined to show you firsthand just how talented you are, even if the journey is challenging. Eventually, both of you realize that resisting this connection is futile, and you must let go of your inhibitions to explore what lies ahead.

words: 9.3K

a/n: Be aware that it's a smut but it has a whole context, so it's long. There are changes of the next parts being more smuts, this part was assembled around how they feel in front of each other and what they make the other feel. It is important to point out that I'm not native of the language, it is likely that there are some errors, but hopefully few because I try to be careful. In addition, I hope you enjoy!

You were nervous; it was difficult to digest what he was explaining when all you seemed to notice in class was the timbre of his voice. As hours passed, his accent seemed to grow stronger and huskier, not to mention how he had taken off his blazer within the first few minutes and rolled up his sleeves to his elbows. You couldn't quite tell whether you were enjoying the subject matter due to its inherent interest or whether it was him who had become your focus of interest.

You found the buttons on his white shirt alluring, the warmth adhering to his skin, and the occasionally tousled hair being lazily brushed away from his eyes exuded a charm. Watching him was intriguing; at some point, you had tried to avoid such distractions, but realizing your failure, you allowed yourself to be swept away completely.

"Did you hear me?" He asked a bit louder, trying to get your attention. He hadn't shouted; he never did. You were immersed in him, yet couldn't grasp the meaning of the disjointed words he had gestured. However, the movements of his restless hands and the prominent veins when he placed them on his waist had etched themselves into your memory. If someone requested, you could depict his fingers in oil on canvas.

"I'm sorry," you shook your head, waiting for him to repeat, as he often did with everyone else. He studied you more closely, even from a distance, his hands tucked in his pockets and your breath catching slightly. He didn't often make direct eye contact with students, maybe with no one. He was somewhat reserved, and it was evident that lecturing for hours wasn't quite his natural disposition. You found the stumbling over words and how he would look out the window or shift his gaze when someone met his eyes rather appealing. You feared that you had been thinking about him for so long that you had built up an image of him beyond what he could actually be.

However, he held his dark eyes on you, offering a gentle smile, a touch relaxed as if he had expected that from you, and playfully continued, "Well, I didn't expect that from you. I must have been mistaken in thinking you're a great one." He carried on with the lecture as your cheeks began to burn. Perhaps his not-liking for you was part of his nature too.

…

You couldn't bear for him not to like you. Not until the end of the semester; you considered his subject crucial for your repertoire. He just couldn't dislike you. Some nights were spent awake, but you were certain your paper was well-written, and your readings for his class were up to date; any question he might ask, you'd know the answer to. Your seat in the classroom was always the same, out of habit. Honestly, if you had known the distraction and nervousness that Mr. Turner would cause you, you would have opted for seats further back for your own good. But now it was too late, and besides, you needed a good grade in his class.

He was wearing a light blue blazer, a shirt with a few buttons open, and high-waisted slacks, the usual attire, but it never failed to soften your senses. He looked well-rested, his expression serene, no signs of dark circles, and his hair was even silkier than usual as his fingers brushed it back. You found yourself fidgeting, imagining what it would be like to run your fingers through his hair, touch his skin, and feel the texture of the beard that was just beginning to grow.

Realizing your mental drift, you closed your eyes tightly and buried your head in a notebook, trying to avoid looking at him. The rest of the class proceeded as usual, his voice pleasant and utterly hypnotic, and occasionally, he cracked a light joke to lighten the mood. Almost no one laughed, but you found it funny. There were only a few students, so he had no choice but to notice you.

You weren't foolish enough not to notice his eyes briefly passing over you, but you chalked it up to his duty to see if anyone needed help. So you avoided letting your brain jump to impossible conclusions.

And then there was the age difference; he was older, you couldn't say for sure how much, but the more pronounced lines on his face and his authoritative demeanor made that evident. Still, he was charming and, dare you say, a bit sexy. He had a well-sculpted physique, leaving enough room for you to describe him for hours.

"Could you continue for us?" he said, his voice distinct, making you look at him reluctantly. You didn't know it, but avoiding his gaze throughout the class had bothered him, but who was he to say anything about it unless you couldn't answer him?

You nodded, your hands sweaty; you knew what to say, just not where to find the courage. Your cheeks were already burning with anxiety. "I'm sorry," your voice was soft, and you stumbled over the first syllable. He seemed to understand. "It's okay," Mr. Turner leaned down to your level at your desk, his hands on his knees, and a somewhat encouraging smile. "I know you wrote an excellent paper on this; I know you know what to say," he said softly, turning toward you, his calm eyes and a nod of the head giving you confidence. His words made you look away for a moment, and your shy smile spread awkwardly.

Once you finished, he thanked you and added that you had done very well. He seemed genuinely pleased to see you speak, but perhaps it was just a product of your imagination. You even received a light applause from him, which didn't seem ironic. This made you feel more at ease and attentive during his classes; he was a great teacher.

At the end of class, he passed by the desks, handing out the respective papers we had discussed. Your face fell into a worried expression as you touched yours. Alex knew you deserved more, but he wouldn't make it easy for you. It wasn't his style as an educator to give out high grades easily.

Your smile disappeared in confusion; he felt a pang in his chest when he saw your reaction. He didn't say anything, just returned to his desk and said he was open to discussions. He hoped you would come to him and fight for the grade you deserved, but it was clear how upset you were about it.

Others left, content with their grades, and you still had the paper in your hands, looking between the notes. He avoided looking at you directly, yet couldn't help but glance at you from time to time.

"Mr. Turner," you sounded angelic as you approached him, your steps light as you handed him the paper. Your shirt was short, and when you handed him the paper, he couldn't help but notice the exposed skin of your stomach, which was briefly visible. "I thought I had done well; that's what you just said," your voice trembled, and as you got closer, he noticed your sweet scent. On the other hand, you couldn't focus on anything; minutes ago, you were sure you had done well, and things with him had been sorted out; he didn't hate you.

"It's not a bad grade," he said firmly, then immediately regretted it. It was brief, but for a moment, your eyes filled, and he could see how much it had frustrated you. He didn't blame you; in fact, he knew you were talented, and by the way you had written, he knew you had put in the effort. The problem wasn't you; any other teacher would have given you the highest grade. However, your grade wasn't bad; it just wasn't what you deserved and wanted.

"Do you think I can redo it? I can do better," he looked at your trembling hands and continued, "This grade is final; I can't allow you to do that." His words didn't match his tone, but you didn't notice; you wanted to rip up the paper in front of him and say you didn't need it.

You stood in front of him, disoriented, while he couldn't help but let his attention wander over you. He felt wrong, both because you were his student and because he was aware that you were over a decade younger. Still, without being able to explain it well, he found himself lost in thoughts of you from time to time, especially after having read what you wrote.

"Please," you pleaded softly as a last attempt, your eyebrow arched and your nose wrinkled in emphasis of your plea, and you looked so beautiful. "I can allow you to submit another," he confirmed, his face serious, the little furrow between his brows. Up close, you felt your breath catch as you noticed the exposed hairs on his chest. The scent of cigarettes and his cologne became more pronounced, and you liked it. Creating a new one would take so much time, but if it was your only option, there was nothing to be done.

Alex had only asked that in the hope of being able to explore more of your writing; by the end of the semester, he wouldn't be able to stop himself from letting you know that you were his number one fan if you allowed it. You had a beautiful way with writing; feelings seemed worth experiencing in your words. You nodded in agreement. "Okay, I need you to submit it by the end of the week." You didn't object; you seemed grateful, and Alex took mental note of how caring so much about that grade was something youthful; in the future, it wouldn't matter, but you didn't know that yet. Your smile, now smaller but still present, returned to your kind face, and he felt more comfortable, even dressed in his serious university professor attire. With that, he guided you to the door, his palm resting lightly on your back, not inappropriately, but gently, which caused him to blush a bit. You felt shivers run down your spine, but he didn't seem to notice, and both of you made your way to the exit. You thanked him once more, telling him that you wouldn't make him regret his decision, to which he assured you it wouldn't happen.

Your path to the next class was accompanied by a light and relaxed smile after his final words were simply, "I know you won't disappoint me; you didn't the first time," in his pleasant accent, followed by a pat on your shoulders. You felt like a fool, but you couldn't even think of trying to avoid it anymore.

…

"He's good, knows what he's doing. He follows my lead during, when I'm tired and breathless; he tilts his face and lets his nose graze my clit," your friend said casually, as if it were an everyday part of her life. Well, you couldn't relate. She was lounging on your bed, while you were on the floor with your laptop open to one of Professor Turner's published stories. As well as a valuable audiobook that was read by him between the navigation tabs, waiting for her to leave so you can have your moment of peace. You wanted to learn more about him, and your friend kept failing to get you to go out and meet new people. You were unfamiliar with the sensation of being touched, and she wanted to change that.

"I don't want to have to force someone to like me," you said, reconsidering what you had just breathed out, not wanting to sound offensive. You two were just different. She didn't mind; she just laughed. "I'll keep trying for you," and you appreciated that about her. You wanted someone in your life like that, but you didn't want it to be as insignificant as she described. She had already set you up with someone to talk to before, and the kiss was good, at least until you refused to have sex right away, which resulted in his friends laughing at you and whispering as you passed them in the hallway. You learned that sometimes it's better to wait and avoid certain situations.

"I'm okay like this, it's alright," you said, even though you weren't, but you wouldn't go through that again. She respected your decision. Your smile brightened as you saw a notification that you had received an email from Alex on the screen. You bit your lip, trying to contain your eagerness to click on it, making it something important that needed to be read slowly and appreciated. His notes on what he thought of your paper would be there, and he always made a point to highlight the positives and areas for improvement. It warmed your heart.

For a brief moment, his smile for you flashed in your mind, the wrinkles forming at the corners of his eyes, and his pointed nose following in harmony. You had to grip the fabric of your skirt between your fingers, soon having your friend's words echoing in your head. Professor Turner seemed like a good man in every sense of the word. You did believe he would treat his partners well in every way. Your friend pointed out that the boy she went out with listened to her, and you felt that he would too; both in listening and in other ways. You were sure, with what little you had learned about him, that he was observant.  There would be no need to tell him what to do, Mr Turner would understand your body and then he would not disappoint.  He could tell when a woman was tired or overwhelmed. An important one was that you also thought he was provocative, too impatient at times not to be.  You wanted to be able to know what it was like with him, even if it was through other people's experiences with him, just to get a little of that taste.  You didn't exactly feel good about the inconsistency of such thoughts. Still, you let yourself be carried away by them.

He made you wet with just his voice. If he were to touch you in that way, you were certain you would give yourself over completely. You sat up straighter, envisioning how good it would be to have his tongue on you, gentle and with relaxed moans because he wouldn't think going down on you was a bad thing or something to second-guess. You remembered how easily you could make your small vibrator slide when you were really excited, and you felt it would be the same with his fingers. They were longer and thicker than yours, but wet with his saliva and your body melting from his voice, they would be skillful.

The tip of his nose would surely brush deliciously against your clit as he savored your taste, following your cues. The beard that was beginning to grow would graze your sensitive skin, causing a slight burn that would remind you of his presence. Professor Turner would also shake his face into you, wanting to make sure he enjoyed pleasuring you as much as he did receiving. Oh, and you would love to be able to provide that to him. Unconsciously, you found yourself breathing heavily. Your friend laughed, "Are you this worked up over a notification?" She had gotten up to leave but returned when she noticed you were flustered. "Spill it, who's the lucky one?" You recoiled, shaking your head in denial, not wanting to admit that there was someone (or not exactly), but your smile was hard to hide.

"It's not really anyone," you still felt uncomfortable in your own skin, fearing you had done something wrong. She waited for you to continue. "Just an email about a paper I submitted, I got feedback on it now." She rolled her eyes, muttering under her breath, "What a nerd." Then you felt like exploring the situation further, considering that she also had a class with him but in a different subject. "Was it positive feedback at least? What subject is this for?" You mentally thanked her for asking, giving you an opening to continue.

"It's for Professor Turner's class. He let me redo one of the papers to try for a higher grade," you answered, and she raised an eyebrow. "He gave you a low grade?" The girl seemed surprised but not entirely. "This guy is impossible, what a..." She used a strong word. You didn't quite understand. While you still thought there was a chance he might dislike you, he didn't seem so harsh. He wasn't the friendliest at first, but as you thought back, you realized you had never seen him smile at any student in your class except you.

"Do people think he's bad?" You asked, furrowing your brow. Deep down, you wanted her to reassure you by saying positive things about him and making you feel normal about having this confusing crush on him. She then talked about his strict grading style, how he acted like a difficult person to talk to, and always had a stern expression. She wasn't wrong; you couldn't deny that. But he wasn't like that with you; it was different, and you couldn't explain it.

"I talked to him about my grade, and even though he was reluctant, he allowed me to redo it and submit it by email. He talks to me during class as well, asking me to explain something or asking for my opinion on what he's explaining. I think he's talented, but I can understand your point," you defended, without taking a breath, as if it were already a formulated and concrete idea in your head. You did spend a lot of time thinking about him since the first day of his class. She quickly caught on to where this was headed. "You like him, he's your type. Charming, grumpy, and writes well." Your cheeks burned. "He likes you; in my class, he doesn't chitchat with anyone, just does what's necessary. He enjoys teaching, I can see that in him, he's just not so sociable and too strict for a subject that should be straightforward. I've never even seen the guy smile." You pondered for a moment, deciding to pay closer attention to see if he treated you differently from the others or if it was just your head playing tricks on you.

You shrugged and concluded before she left, "I like him, and he frustrates me sometimes for being so strict, but I don't think he does it out of malice. He seems like a good man." She got up, laughing at how you talked about him. "Then go for it, suck his dick, choose him as your thesis advisor; I'm sure he'd love to have you under his wing." Her tone indicated it was a joke, but it sparked your imagination. He would be a good advisor, and you liked the idea of him praising your work with that pleased, bright look on his face. Alone, you opened the email. Your joy went from extreme to controlled; he could be quite harsh when pointing out the negatives, and sometimes you wondered if he did it just to be difficult. But this time, he found more positives in your writing. He had marked the parts he liked the most and written next to them why he liked them. Your heart warmed, and your stomach filled with happy butterflies. The last comment read, "You give me pleasure in reading something," and you heard it in his voice, deep and drawn-out. You felt yourself grow warm and realized how messed up you were for feeling like this. Your mouth was dry, and in the end, you saw that your grade was the highest, even with the not-so-great notes he had made.

Maybe he didn't dislike you after all. You lingered on the blurry, not much clear photo in his email signature for a while, with a stupid smile of accomplishment on your face. Then you decided to write him a thank-you, and you weren't as brief as you would have liked. The sensation of comfort taking over your body, along with your pleasant but not entirely appropriate thoughts about him causing things in your breathing, made you contemplate what could be done.

You rested your head comfortably, your laptop placed beside you. In a new tab, after opening the audiobook website, you found yourself browsing through the selection that appeared when you searched his name. If his voice was enticing in an inappropriate context, it would be even better alone, wouldn't it? Your chest tightened, knowing that it was wrong, but you weren't going to stop.

You put on your headphones, clicked on the longest one you could find, and relaxed your tense shoulders as the first whispered words filled your head. It was even better; here, you had him all to yourself, complete silence, and his voice echoing, well-recorded and clear as it guided you. He sounded precise, with deep and marked pauses, his typical breathing between phrases, and, with your eyes closed, you could imagine him gesturing and occasionally touching his nose or mouth as he spoke. Just like the gentle adjustment of the necklace and shirt that made his chest more visible and room for more of your thoughts to be explored.  In fact, that necklace coming off his soft skin on top of you in sweat would be something so pleasant.

You felt weak but in a relaxed way; it was good, pushing the voice that haunted your thoughts about him into the background. Delicately, as if any abrupt movement might break the spell, you reached for your box under the bed. The small, pink object came to life in your hand, your throat already dry and his narration causing your head to tilt slightly to the side, as if he were caressing your face. You let yourself be completely carried away as you pressed it against yourself.

You swallowed hard, leaving it there for a while, immersed in how Mr. Turner seemed to be speaking to you. Everything was slow, every syllable that came from his rosy lips was cherished. You wanted so much for it to be him there, touching you and whispering while guiding you. You were sure he would say things like, "That's it, you're taking me so well, doll," or "Look at how good you are, you're such a good girl for me." And as cliché as it might sound, you had no doubt that he would make it sound like something the gods themselves would envy.

You pulled the thin fabric aside, pushing the vibrator inside you. Your legs trembled a bit, but as expected, the small object slid in just right. Your lips parted in a satisfied sigh, whispering his last name as you closed your legs slowly and felt the tingling sensation intensify. His name never felt so delicious and engaging as your tongue rolled out to the sound and went through your lips so vividly. Your head throbbed, and you could already see him sitting at his desk in front of yours, guiding you, telling you what to do and say, teaching you tricks to make it even better (you knew you weren't very skilled).

You got louder, whimpering because you wanted your thoughts to become real so badly, and then you saw nothing but white spots in your vision. Your chest heaved, your breathing completely out of sync, and the area beneath you grew wet as you felt too sensitive to continue with the vibrator.

This time, you didn't feel bad; you felt really good, actually. Your body relaxed, his voice still being absorbed by you in a therapeutic way. Then, you imagined lying on his chest, pulling your pillow to your arms, and how he would kiss you solemnly and have his hands in your hair, giving you comforting words until you fell asleep after he had made you feel so wonderful. 

Although you were feeling good now, the following morning would be a bitter testament to how you were digging yourself into a hole with no bottom, and the light wouldn't be there to save you.

…

 Alex received your email, and a pleasant blush crept onto his face along with a warm smile. He could picture you reading what he had written, your hands between your thighs, a happy expression on your face, and all giddy, unable to contain yourself in your chair. He appreciated how much you valued his feedback, but he knew how hardworking and intelligent you were. He wanted to help you realize that you were good on your own, not just because he believed it.

He ran his hand through his hair, feeling hot from the heat. Your notification had arrived on his phone, and being a seasoned university professor, he preferred to wait to access his laptop to read and respond to you properly if needed. He tried to get into the thing that he was used to teaching, but that wasn't entirely the case. While he found it tiresome to teach subjects he liked and found interesting when no one seemed interested, he enjoyed it when you were there for him, you were the exception (the teacher’s pet). The thought made him chuckle and bite his lip. It was tiring, but he liked it, except for all the social interaction that weighed on him.

He had just returned from the market after giving two lectures, and he had exceeded his limit for social interaction. Yet, seeing your email notification on the screen gave him the extra energy he needed for the rest of the day. Just the thought of your quick exchange earlier when he passed by you on the first floor during lunch, even if brief, brought a warmth to his chest. You smiled at him, waved, and whispered a "good day" or "have a good rest of your day, Professor." He always smiled back with a hand in the air, trying to keep his face relaxed, and he actually showed his teeth. He wasn't used to all this sweetness from his students and had never found himself making an effort for it, but with you, it was worth it.

Indeed, no one but you spoke directly to him out of pure, spontaneous will. If others did, he would remain serious, with a furrowed brow, and nod in agreement. He honestly preferred it that way, with no one besides you trying to have a small talk with him. He didn't dislike his students, but he didn't like flattery and dumb questions that could be avoided if they paid attention in class.

His head began to ache, and he noticed the sweat on his body, prickling and making him feel irritated. Stress was about to come back, but he remembered that he needed to read your email. He removed his belt, sliding it off his waist slowly and soon feeling relieved. He felt even better after unbuttoning all the buttons on his shirt and peeling it off. He quickly decided between taking a shower or reading your sweet words first, considering which order would leave him relaxed for longer so he could sleep. He knew that whatever he did, thoughts related to you would still linger in his mind until he fell asleep.

He sat on the bed, pulling the laptop toward him, and although he wasn't in a hurry, he found himself restless until the screen lit up, and he could access his account. Once he did, your simple message didn't fail to soften him. The excessive exclamation points reminded him of how young you were. It was like a letter, with your polite and correct punctuation. He could almost hear your voice as he read your words.

The way you called him "Mr. Turner" never failed to affect him. Others had addressed him this way, but it was different with you. Your eyes sparkled, your smile widened, your pupils got alive, and your pleasant face eagerly awaited for him to look at you and speak to you. He thought he was too old for this, and he certainly was, but he couldn't avoid how you had invaded his soul.

You had no knowledge of what was going on in his head, but he felt like he was corrupting you. He felt dirty for getting so energized by giving you compliments he knew you liked to hear and then patting your back while seeing you happy about it. What the hell was he doing? And he couldn't deny that he found comfort in how beautiful you looked when you were frustrated, your eyes seemed more tired, and your breathing uneven when you were upset about one of his negative comments (sometimes he did it on purpose).

Feeling his own chest grow heavier and his mind getting increasingly lost, he opted for a shower, even though he was aware that idealizing you wouldn't end there. Now without clothes, under the shower, with you like a curse surrounding him, he realized just how messed up he was. He couldn't avoid it anymore, even though he didn't want to. He knew there was no turning back.

The words from your email clung to him as water flowed over his hair and down his shoulders. You had shown how much you appreciated him and knew his work, the care in choosing your words to praise him, and saying that you wanted to get to him in person soon to reinforce how much you had liked his feedback, the way would like to work through them and see you unravel in front of him because he noticed that your courage in emails wasn't the same as in person. He found that so adorable.

His overactive imagination was leading him to cute places related to you, but it was sparking other curiosities in him too, even though it was about how delicate and somewhat innocent he found you (although he would never admit it that way). Soon, he felt heavy, needing relief as the water splashed over him, and he sighed in exasperation at himself. He was being as pathetic as a teenager. Why couldn't he stop?

His breathing grew rigid, catching in his dry throat, and he allowed himself to be carried away by the flow of his fantasies. His hand ran over his abdomen, eyes tightly closed, hoping that this would make him feel less guilty about it. His thumb glided over the sensitive skin, and a soft sigh escaped his lips; he felt sore and swollen despite doing so little. He continued slowly but with precision. He believed that giving you pleasure wasn't such a difficult task; you would appreciate the touch no matter what. Not that it made him want to go easy on you. He felt like he could have his hands around your waist, squeezing your soft flesh with delight while admiring your breasts, giving them gentle bites and generous suckling that would make you gasp for air for extended periods. Your hands would be cradling the nape of his neck, fingers entwined in his tousled hair. He found comfort in this, feeling that he could make you feel the same way.

He also thought that your body would respond well to his. He was convinced that you were addicted to being a good girl, and that was not up for discussion. The way you melted under his compliments, listened to his harsh criticisms, and sought to improve upon them, you would deny any chance of being labeled a bad girl. As more moans escaped his lips, with the strength of his fingers unaltered, he thought about going a little harder on you, not to hurt, but to make you think about begging him to stop. The tears that would stream down the corners of your eyes as you tried to be good for him and take him in you just right. "You're doing so well, babygirl. You’re so good to me." You would open your bright eyes to him, feeling encouraged to continue being what he needed. He would clearly notice and slow down, accommodating his fingers on your clit and making you adjust to him with soft whimpers that made you endure and enjoy it until the end.

He also liked how you would react when he stimulated you to the extreme, your sensitivity and his desire to taste your essence on his tongue. He could say that you were as sweet as his last name sounded when you talked to him in class. He would tease you with his tongue, kissing you as if it were the only time and chance he had to touch you. And you would fight not to close your thighs around him, but as you were a good girl, you would succeed in keeping yourself spread open while he exhausted you a few more times. The thought of you reaching your peak, your eyes closed, and the tears he knew would be there because you did that when you got frustrated with his opinions on your writing, and your mouth slightly open with his name escaping, made him reach his climax. A deep, raspy groan echoed through the bathroom, his head heavy, and his shoulders feeling lighter and more satisfied. He worked his hand until the last drops came out and marked his stomach just before the water could wash it away down the drain.

He felt good, guilty, but his body wasn't saying that. "Fuck," he sighed, not knowing if it was relief or the headache that would come later due to this; it was getting worse to a dimension he hadn't imagined. He would surely ruin you if he continued; it wasn't as enjoyable as he wished.

Still, he got out of the shower and found himself picturing how you would snuggle up to him, your tired body and calm eyes enveloped by his, and how he would love to tell you stories until he saw you fall asleep safe in his arms or listen to you talk about your day. He liked your voice; it made him feel good. At this point, he desired you in all these ways, from the most profane to the most adorable, for your physical and emotional well-being.

You still haunted his dreams, so vividly that he reached out for you in bed. In his imagination, he had lifted you by the waist and placed you sitting on his desk. The remaining students had left, and he could revel in how your hands were trembling and your face was so delicate as you gazed at him. You used to wear knee-high socks with longer boots, and he found it sexy yet cute. He felt like you made things your own, that you gave life to them. And then he found himself pulling at that piece of clothing, your legs spreading apart, and he had to instruct you to stay quiet before someone noticed as his fingers touched between your thighs. He caressed over the damp fabric, nodding his head and waiting for you to do the same, indicating that you understood to stay calm and quiet. The door would be closed, but the glass window could still give you away. You were facing away from it, and if you behaved, everything would go smoothly.

Alex could feel you soaking through his fingers, making them slippery. You sucked on his finger skillfully, being such a great girl, and stayed still without him having to coax you into relaxing as he went deeper. Your sighs were adorable, and he felt himself getting hard. He woke up before he could make you reach your peak and realized that the dream had an effect on him. There, he knew that if given the opportunity, maybe he wouldn't be able to fight against what he wanted to do, purely out of morality.

…

The following week, there was no class with Turner due to some unforeseen circumstances of his. However, he was still around for the week. Being as observant as you were, you passed by the same spot at 12:45 on Friday, gave him a slight wave, and although you had planned to approach him and ask how he was, you didn't. That is, until he called out to you, causing your body to freeze and your heart to race, forcing you to get closer.

He adjusted the bag on his shoulder, his cheeks flushed and intense. You noticed his restlessness as you got to him; it was cute, not awkward. He held a coffee and had a cigarette between his fingers. He exhaled the smoke in the opposite direction to yours and got rid of it as soon as you arrived by his side.

"Are you good, Professor?" It didn't fail to make him nervous, but he still looked at you without understanding. "I'm sorry, I guess it's not my business; I just thought to ask out of politeness since I haven't seen you this week."

He laughed at how you stumbled over your words, and he didn't blame you; he felt the same way. The fact that he made you feel like your question was inappropriate even made his chest tighten a bit.

"It's okay, I had a routine check-up, but I'm fine," he replied briefly but nodded with a comfortable smile. He could see you swallowing nervously and how your fingers wouldn't stop moving while he had his eyes on you.

"I thought of a book for you, if you don't mind." Your eyes met his, and you seemed excited. "I really like it, and I thought you might like it too."

The idea that he had thought of you made your body tingle, and the rush of blood to your face drowned out the noise around you. You took the coffee from his hands, noticing how he fumbled with opening his bag, and the light touch of your skins made you wish for more—it was warm and soft.

He took out the book, handing it to you, and you nodded with a faint smile. You hugged the cover to yourself, avoiding his gaze for a moment. It felt insane being around him after all the things you did with him in mind. You weren't exactly proud of that. The collar of his striped T-shirt was carelessly folded, and the buttons you loved so much were unbuttoned, revealing his chest briefly. You wished you could fix it for him.

This time, he wore a dark blazer and flare jeans, and he was pleasant to look at. He ran his hand through his hair and sighed, "I left notes in some parts so that I can know what you think later, if you'll allow me." Then you realized that he was doing this because he knew you needed to do well in his course to get into the master's program; still, you found it cute.

"Oh, yes, I can write to you when I finish, right?" He agreed, knowing that he would be waiting for your email in the coming weeks.

"I'm glad to know you're okay, Mr. Turner," you said awkwardly, your face fervently hot, and thanked him for the book. As you turned around, you felt his hand on your wrist; it wasn't as soft as before, but it was comforting, with the fingertips firmer as he squeezed your skin. Then, your eyes met his with a raised eyebrow.

"I need you to give me back my coffee, pet," he said playfully, and your knees weakened a bit. He felt pleased to be able to contemplate you in his mind.

…

The heat had taken its toll on Alex. He had left his blazer in the car and decided to visit one of the open bars near the campus. His hands rested inside his pockets as he patiently waited for his juice and water, yearning for the moment when he could finally get home and enjoy a cold beer. It was his final class of the afternoon, which meant it was getting quite late, and the students were scattered around. While the bar wasn't overly crowded, he could still recognize a few faces.

As soon as the chilled cup was placed in his hands, he caught sight of you with your back turned. You were wearing your signature knee-high socks and boots, but this time, you had opted for a skirt and a tank top, giving you a more relaxed and comfortable appearance. You looked stunning. With you engaged in conversation with a friend he had glimpsed from a distance, you were all smiles and animated hand gestures, bringing life to the scene.

Realizing he was staring, Alex chided himself and tried to divert his attention back to his juice. Yet, within a few minutes, his gaze involuntarily returned to you. Now, you were alone, engrossed in his book that sat next to you, its pages marked to indicate that you had already begun reading. A smile of satisfaction graced his lips; he had strategically placed notes between the pages for you to discover, hoping you would notice.

You sipped from an orange beverage, and Alex decided not to speculate whether it contained alcohol. However, he knew you weren't intoxicated when you suddenly turned towards him and greeted him with a friendly wave. He felt momentarily caught off guard but managed to offer a warm wave in return, nodding to acknowledge you. Your smile was radiant, and he couldn't help but notice how different you appeared outside the confines of the classroom. He longed for the opportunity to engage with you in a context that wasn't purely academic, but he was well aware that pursuing such a connection might be detrimental to both of you.

You turned back to your previous position, sipping your drink through a straw, while still sneakily stealing glances at him. Alex deliberated whether to linger a bit longer for your sake. The table you occupied was well-lit, offering a refreshing ambiance that was perfect for a summer day. The atmosphere was delightful, and he could easily imagine you enjoying such a setting regularly.

He held his bottle of water, pondering the ethical implications of sitting with you while you were alone. His initial plan was to finish his drink and then leave. But he couldn't bring himself to do that—not for his sake, but for yours. It wouldn't be fair to you. He feared the potential consequences would fall squarely on your shoulders rather than his own.

He shook his head and eventually decided to leave. As you lowered your head into his hands, he waited for a few more minutes, half-expecting you to look his way. But it didn't happen.

Then everything seemed to happen very quickly. He returned to his car, leaving behind the water and even starting the engine before realizing he had left his wallet inside. He hesitated but ultimately turned back, despite his frustration over forgetting his documents.

His wallet was still where he had left it. He retrieved it and then shifted his attention to you, curious and attentive. Your hands were fidgeting with your socks, as if attempting to wipe away sweat. A boy was seated in front of you, but your attention was elsewhere. The guy sported a smile that made Alex uncomfortable on your behalf.

Your discomfort was palpable, yet you seemed powerless to do anything about it. You turned to the side, your head moving away from the boy, and as you gasped for air, the guy's grin widened. Your elbows dropped onto your knees, and your hands moved to pull your hair away from your face. You appeared more sweaty than usual, and you felt increasingly weak.

As you realized your strength was waning, the boy signaled for someone else to assist you. You resisted, but they gently pushed you back into your chair to prevent you from collapsing. They weren't being nice about it.

For Alex, that was the tipping point. He strode over to them and forcefully removed the boy's hand from your arm. "Get away from her," his stern voice reverberated, and you didn't understand what was happening, but you knew you didn't feel well.

The guys attempted to speak over Alex, trying to explain themselves, even though there was no justification for their actions. Their chatter only served to irritate him further. He held onto you, his hand caressing your face, and your eyes were half-closed; you were clearly not in a good state.

After another remark from the boys, Alex glared at the boy with an even more intense hatred. His brow furrowed, and his tone grew sharper. "Just stay away from her; I won't let her be alone with you," he warned, making it clear that they should not attempt such behavior with anyone else either.

The boys exchanged nervous glances and silently agreed to leave, though Alex couldn't have cared less about them at that moment.

"What’re you feeling, pet?" He placed his hands on his knees, lowering himself to your level. You were dazed, your skin tingling, and you weren't sure what to say, or if you could say anything at all. Alex considered asking where you lived and offering to take you home, but he suspected you lived in the vicinity of the campus, and it wouldn't be appropriate for him to be seen with you in this state. Taking you to his own home didn't seem like a good idea either, but he did live nearby, and it appeared to be the most reasonable option.

He cupped your face in his hands, close enough to smell your scent once again. You smiled faintly, your eyes still distant but focusing on him. You were conscious, just not in the best condition. "I don't want to stay here; my head is spinning," you mumbled, not entirely sure what was wrong. It could have been due to poor nutrition or dehydration, you thought.

"Look, I'll stay with you ‘til you feel better, alright?" he spoke gently, as if soothing a baby. You nodded, his touch on your cheek making you lean into his warmth. As he thought about reaching out to your forehead with his lips, he realized where he was and quickly pulled back, rising to his feet with you leaning on him for support.

…

Alex gently sat you in the passenger seat, and you huddled in front of him, noticeably self-conscious about your attire. He chuckled warmly, pulling his blazer from the back seat. You felt cradled by his presence as he slipped the fabric over your arms and fastened the buttons around your midsection. It resembled a short dress, making you feel more comfortable, and it carried a pleasant scent. Your stomach still tingled, and you were aware that it was because of him and not whatever had happened earlier.

He rested your head against the headrest, his serene eyes guiding you, and he didn't seem regretful about helping you, despite the crease between his brows. Then he fastened your seatbelt and handed you his water bottle. Your vision was blurry, and sudden movements hurt, but he wasn't a saint, and he had a rough view of how you must be feeling. He'd been your age before, although thankfully, in his case, it had been a result of a spontaneous choice.

"I'll wait a bit before starting the car, alright?" he suggested, and you nodded. He gently led the bottle to your lips, encouraging you to drink a substantial portion of it. He wiped your chin and face with the hem of his T-shirt, and you followed his every move, your attention fixated on him. Without the blazer, he looked even better, and you lightly held his wrist. He seemed concerned, but you did it because you wanted to and felt that you could, even though you'd never been this close before. "Thank you, Mr. Turner," you said casually, as if it didn't affect him profoundly.

As he sat down on the driver's side of the car, he closed the tinted windows, feeling safer with that precaution. He still worried about putting you in danger. He waited, knowing that feeling dizzy along with drinking water wouldn't be a good combination, even though he had insisted on it to help your body recover more quickly. He could hear your calm breathing, which put him at ease. You had closed your eyes, your mouth slightly ajar, and he looked at you, allowing himself to be captivated by every detail. He carefully adjusted your hair to prevent it from catching on the seat and strands from being pulled, whispering, "You can sleep; everything’ll be alright, I promise, little one." You found yourself charmed by the pet name, involuntarily smiling, and he made a mental note that you like it. Your arms lightly touched, and with the comforting scent of him surrounding you, you drifted into a light sleep. It was strange to be in such a bad situation with an outcome that neither of you regretted. He kept the radio off until reaching your destination. He’d never drive without music. 

… 

Your eyes slowly adjusted to the dim light as you realized you were leaning on him for support. Your forehead was resting on his shoulder, his soft T-shirt against your skin. He was more comforting to touch than your mind had led you to trust. He was kneeling in front of you while you sat on the bed. You no longer felt dizzy, but you were weak, with not all your senses fully present. Alex's hands delicately removed your earrings and necklaces, and it was nice to have him so close, a bit surreal. You almost believed you could be a doll with how he was treating you. He moved back, laying you down on his bed, and he smiled at you as a way to reassure you that everything was okay. You grabbed his arm, afraid he would leave. Alex quickly shook his head. "Hey, little one, I'm not going anywhere. I just need to get some water for you and something to dry your face." He sounded caring, making you want to cry because you knew this was wrong. But why did it feel so right?

"Promise?" You asked, not into the idea of falling into a deep sleep and when you wake up he wouldn't be there to call you little one anymore. He nodded, extending his pinky finger to seal the promise. The silence without him wasn't comforting; you felt like there were monsters under the bed. Still out of mind about time and space, you realized you were in his room, which made you feel even more fragile. The room had a light blue color, seemed well-lit during the day, had books scattered in an organized manner, and two guitars hanging on the wall. That made you put your hand over your mouth as you imagined how his fingers would behave playing those strings. You wanted to hug him, to let the scent and the soft chest lull you to sleep again. Your head was noisy, and you didn't like it.

When he returned, he moved in slow motion to you. He wiped your face and neck with a damp cloth, and you wondered why he was alone. He was a good man; you had thought about that before. Alex wouldn't sleep next to you, but he would stay with you as long as you needed him. He sat with his back against the headboard, looking at you for a moment. It was too late; this was no longer just a casual situation. You'd have to talk about it; you had formed a bond. Although you were scared, Alex liked it.

You asked him to lie down, and he complied. You were side by side, facing each other. Your eyelids struggled to close, but first they followed your fingers as they roamed his face. You traced the gentle lines at the corner of his eye, then the bridge of his nose. He was handsome. Sometimes you wanted to forget that he was older than you, even though you liked him that way. Your hand then touched his rough stubble, and he smiled when he saw you smiling at him. It was like a dream, like you had imagined and even better.

In an abrupt and unquestionably unplanned proceed, your hand hooked onto the collar of his T-shirt, pulling yourself closer. It was a light pull, and in the blink of an eye, your lips were on his, tender and airless. They lingered there, just touching, feeling each other's warmth and the mixing of breaths. Your hand pressed against his chest and held him to yourself, like he could heal you. You moved your lips with his slowly, warmly, and precisely, enjoying in a comfortable sigh every second of it, until he broke into a sigh of reality. He couldn't be doing this, not with you like this. Not wanting to startle you, he sealed your cheeks and nose a few countless times before planting small forehead kisses when he needed to refuse your touch. He felt guilty, but he wouldn't deny that it had been good, way better than he had fantasized. There were no words, and none were needed; both of you were aware of it. Although he thought you might not be as much, he feared you might not even remember this when you woke up.

Alex held your palm against his chest until you fell asleep. Then he got up, covered your body with a warm sheet, and left you there. Unable to restrain himself from touching your face before and stroking your hair. The next day, you would wake up, wondering if it had been a vivid dream or not. But his room would leave no doubts, with the guitars, the well-lit atmosphere, and his blazer still carrying his scent on you. You didn't know how you were going to talk to him after that, you thought about how he must think of you as a kid who doesn't know how to be in the real world. This time, however, you noticed a photo on the bedside table. He was hugging a woman while kissing her forehead. She had a neatly cut fringe and an angelic face; she was very pretty, and it made you feel insecure. She was around his age. You were wrong to be there, and then you got that the bed you were on was a double bed. You wanted to run away even though your head was pounding. Professor Turner might act like a good man, but he was still a man. Above all, you tried to think well of him; perhaps it was a divorce, right? You would have noticed the ring on his finger if he were married. He wouldn't take off the ring, would he? But why was that photo still there? You quickly got up, failing to remain composed when you saw that he had left a note and some money in case you needed to call an Uber. You couldn't just read it right away. You wanted to believe he was good, but it hurt. You felt used even though you hadn't done anything. Yet, you still felt like you wanted him around more often because you felt good with him. In the middle of class, Alex struggled with impatience, hoping you wouldn't leave without taking the note and the snack he had left for you, so you would have his number and be safe. But it didn't happen, at least not when he expected it to. 

...

taglist: @ohladymoon @indierockgirrl @bloo-wisteria @bellaturner @cosmoschaotic @nikisfwn @andrews-lovr @nela-cutie @artimonkii @alexturnersbbg3 @blackberryblossom @lilmisssweetdreams

(lmk if you want to be in or out of the taglist!)

[arabe11as]

Coming Down.

warnings: smut, MDNI, drunk alex, female reader x

coming down by the weeknd x why’d you only call me when your high?

Around midnight, Alex’s texts trailed off—he mentioned he was heading to a bar just a few streets away, and you figured that was the last you’d hear from him for the night.

By 3 a.m., you were finally starting to wind down, your eyes heavy as you sank into bed. Just as you were on the edge of sleep, your phone lit up, vibrating non-stop. One text after another from Alex flooded your screen, pulling you back from the brink of sleep.

hi

are you awake?

i know it’s late i’m sorry

can i come over?

y/n?

Before you could even register what his messages were saying, your phone started to ring. Alex’s name flashed on the screen, and you groaned out loud, swiping to answer.

“What, Alex?” you asked, rubbing your temple.

“Hi,” he slurred. Of course, he was drunk.

“What do you want?” you asked, already tired of this conversation.

“You,” he replied, his voice thick with alcohol.

“Oh, Jesus.” You sighed, trying to push the irritation out of your tone. “Alex, it’s 3 a.m. Go home.”

“But I’m all alone, Y/N. Can I come over?” he asked, the desperation clear.

You already knew where this was going. Alex gets drunk, shows up, you hook up, and then he’s gone by morning. It was a stupid routine, one you weren’t in the mood for tonight. You knew he didn’t want anything real with you, but that didn’t stop you from feeling something for him, and that just made it worse.

“Alex, I’m not really in the mood,” you said, hoping he’d take the hint.

“Okay, okay, we can—we can just talk?” he offered, slurring even more now.

“Where are you?” you asked, feeling a knot of suspicion forming in your stomach.

“Outside your house,” he said casually.

“What??” You shot up from bed, heart racing, and before you could process it, the doorbell rang. You groaned, louder this time.

“Y/N!” Alex’s voice echoed through the letterbox.

“God, no,” you muttered under your breath, rushing downstairs. You prayed your neighbors wouldn’t wake up as you threw on something decent, bracing yourself for whatever drunken mess awaited at the door.

You opened the door, and there he was, leaning on the frame in his leather jacket, a sloppy grin on his face. “Hello, lovely,” he slurred, grinning like he hadn’t just woken you up at 3 a.m.

You rolled your eyes. “May I come in?” he asked, swaying a bit.

“What did I say on the phone, Al?” you reminded him.

“You said no,” he pouted, his lip sticking out like a kid who didn’t get his way.

“And what does that mean?” you teased, pretending like he didn’t understand.

“It means let me in,” he whined, giving you his best puppy dog eyes.

You sighed, rolling your eyes again. As much as you didn’t want to, you stepped aside and let him in. He stood by the door, smiling at you, the strong smell of whiskey and cigarettes filling the room.

“How many have you had?” you asked, half laughing, half annoyed.

“Enough,” he grinned, trying to sound smooth.

He leaned in to kiss you, but you stopped him, gently holding his face. “I mean what I said, Alex,” you whispered, kissing his cheek instead before walking away. He stayed by the door, looking lost as you left the room.

You headed into the kitchen to grab him a glass of water while he collapsed onto the sofa in the living room. When you came back, you nudged his foot with yours. “Move,” you smiled, seeing him stretched out, taking up the whole couch. He sat up, and you handed him the water before sitting next to him, pulling your knees up to your chest.

“I wish you wouldn’t slick your hair back like that,” you teased, tucking a loose strand behind his ear that had fallen over his face.

“If you don’t like it, I’ll stop,” he said with a lopsided smile.

“Whatever,” you smiled back, shaking your head acting like he didn’t just make your stomach flutter.

He set the water down, looking over at you. “Are you really not in the mood?” he asked, his voice softer now.

“No, sorry, Al,” you said, giving him a fake smile.

“Don’t be sorry. I’m sorry I’m only here when… you know…” he trailed off, avoiding your eyes.

“Yeah,” you sighed, understanding what he meant. It was always like this.

“This is the only thing you’ll do with me,” he mumbled, the words slurring a bit, his face clouded with something sadder.

“What?” you asked, confused.

“Sex. It’s the only thing you wanna do with me,” he frowned, his eyes downcast, like he’d been holding that in for a while.

“Who the fuck said that?” you asked, eyebrows raised.

“No one! Me,” Alex said quickly, placing a hand on your leg, like he needed some excuse to touch you. “I just feel like you only want me when I’m… under the influence.”

“Why do you think that?” you asked, trying to make sense of where this was coming from.

“You never call or text me after we do anything…” he muttered, looking down like it was some shameful secret.

“Yeah, because I think you only want me when you’re drunk or high,” you admitted, feeling a knot form in your chest as you said it out loud.

“I don’t!” he blurted, stumbling over his words. “I wanna—fuck, I’m sorry. I wanna see you all the time. I just thought you only wanted me when I was drunk or high.” He looked at you, a bit more sober in his eyes now, like he’d been carrying that thought around for a while.

“I’m sorry I come off like that. I don’t mean to,” he admitted, staring into your eyes with those big, soft brown eyes of his.

“I hate it when you leave in the morning,” you whispered, feeling more vulnerable than you intended to.

“I know, love. I’m sorry. I wanna stay, I really do,” he whispered back, his face inching closer, his hand slowly trailing up your thigh, sending a shiver through you.

“Then stay,” you whispered, your voice barely audible.

“For as long as I like?” he asked, his lips hovering near yours.

“How long’s that?” you chuckled, trying to lighten the mood.

“Forever? If you’ll have me,” he said with a smile that made your heart skip.

“I’ll have you,” you smiled back, finally leaning in and pressing your lips to his, the kiss soft but full of all the words neither of you had been able to say.

His tongue slipped into your mouth, and you could taste the whiskey on him. "I'm sorry you said you weren't in the mood," he murmured, pulling away carefully, not wanting to push you.

You momentarily forgot you'd said that, realizing you'd kind of lied to yourself. You straddled his lap, feeling bold. "You have an effect, Alex..." you whispered, pushing off his leather jacket, leaving him in a dark T-shirt that complemented him VERY well.

He smiled and stood up from the sofa, your legs wrapped around his waist. He almost lost his balance, making both of you laugh. "You're so pissed," you giggled, enjoying the moment.

"Shut up, you twat," he laughed, leaning in to kiss you again as he carried you toward your bedroom.

He gently placed you onto the bed, keeping the kiss going. But as you pulled away, a wave of worry hit you—was this just him talking nonsense because he was drunk?

He noticed the concern etched on your face and cupped your cheek. “What’s wrong?” he asked, his brow furrowing as he saw your worried look grow stronger.

“Hey, Y/N… are you okay?”

You nodded, but he could tell you weren’t entirely convinced. “Talk to me, love,” he whispered, leaning down to kiss your forehead gently.

“You’re drunk,” you said softly.

“I’m not drunk now,” he replied, his gaze steady. “I’ll be here when you wake up, Y/N. I promise.” He pressed his lips to yours again, his voice sincere. “I promise. We don’t have to do anything.” He said it softly, reassuringly, and you felt a little of the tension ease away.

"No, I want to. Please," you whispered, laying back with him settling between your legs.

"Please, Al," you practically begged, pulling off his T-shirt, your heart racing.

"What do you want?" he asked, his voice low.

"You. Make me yours, please, Alex," you moaned, the urgency in your voice clear.

He slid down your panties and unbuckled his belt, slipping inside you, making you gasp at the sensation.

"Al-" you began, but his lips cut you off as they crashed against yours.

"Fucking hell," he groaned, the sound deep and primal. "You're such a good girl," he whispered in your ear, knowing how much you loved it when he said that.

He lifted your wrists above your head, pinning them gently but firmly against the bed.

"Alex," you moaned, lost in the moment.

"I love hearing you moan my name," he said, kissing your neck, his lips trailing fire across your skin

Your body responded instinctively, arching up into him as a soft moan escaped your lips.

He groaned in response, his grip on your wrists tightening as he increased his pace, driving into you with more urgency. The world around you began to blur.

"is this okay?" he murmured, concern lacing his voice despite the primal hunger in his eyes.

You couldn't answer, couldn't form a coherent thought, let alone a sentence. All you could do was feel, and what you felt was pure bliss.

His rhythm was relentless, each thrust pushing you closer to the edge, making you gasp beneath him.

"Am I fucking you that good you can't speak? Hmm?" he whispered in your ear, his breath hot against your skin.

His arrogance pushed you over the edge, a surge of annoyance mixing with the pleasure flooding your system. "Shut up, you prick," you groaned, trying to sound annoyed but failing miserably as your voice came out breathy and weak.

"There she is," he whispered, a satisfied smile curving his lips. He picked up the pace even more, his thrusts becoming harder, deeper, until you could barely keep up.

He released your wrists, his hands moving down to grip your waist, pulling you closer as he thrust harder. Your fingers instinctively found their way to his hair, tugging on it, lost in the heat of the moment.

With little effort, he lifted one of your legs and hooked it over his shoulder, changing the angle just enough to send you spiraling out of control.

Your nails dug into his back, and when you couldn't take it anymore, you bit down hard into his shoulder but he didn't stop, didn't slow down. If anything, he only went harder leaving you gasping and moaning, your whole body vibrating with need.

You bite your lip, trying to suppress the moan that escapes as he moves with a rough, almost punishing rhythm.

Your hand flies to your mouth, stifling the sounds. "Fuck, fuck, Alex, I can't-" you gasp, every word stumbling out between thrusts, each one more intense than the last.

"You can, love," he growls low in your ear, his voice rough, full of heat, as he pushes your hand away.

"I want to hear those pretty sounds." His grip tightens around your waist as he slams into you with an unrelenting force, sending waves of pleasure through your body.

"Fuck," you groan, louder this time, no longer able to hold back. He leans in closer, his breath hot against your neck, his hand sliding up to wrap around your throat, applying just enough pressure to send your mind spiraling.

"That's it, love," he murmurs, voice dark and filled with need. "Come for me. Let me feel you."

Your body tenses, his words pushing you over.

"Alex—" you gasp, your voice barely a whisper, trembling

With a strangled cry, you shattered, your climax ripping through you with force, as your body clenched tightly around him, milking him for every last drop of sensation.

His own release followed swiftly, a deep groan rumbling in his chest as he came, his muscles tensing and then relaxing as he spilled himself inside you.

For a long moment, neither of you moved, simply reveling in the afterglow of your shared climax.

Then, slowly, he withdrew, collapsing beside you on the bed. You turned your head to look at him, your breath still coming in ragged gasps, and found him watching you with an expression that was equal parts smug and contented.

“I think you get better each time,” you laughed, still feeling the aftershocks of what just happened.

“And you said you ‘weren’t in the mood,’” he teased, a grin spreading across his face.

“Shut up, I was mad at you,” you shot back, unable to hide your smile.

“So mad, clearly,” he laughed, nudging you playfully.

You lay beside him, chest rising and falling as you close your eyes and take a slow, deep breath. The room is still, just the sound of your breathing filling the space.

“I wasn’t too rough, was I?” he asks, voice softer now, a hint of concern laced with his usual confidence.

You shake your head, turning toward him with a lazy smile. “No, Al. You were amazing. You always are.”

He smiles back, the tension in his shoulders easing as he leans in to press a gentle kiss to your forehead, his lips warm against your skin.

He practically forced you to get up and go to the bathroom, even though all you wanted to do was sleep. Afterward, you returned and fell into his arms, the warmth of his body enveloping you. You closed your eyes, feeling safe and content, and soon drifted off to sleep.

You woke up to the unfortunate reality of an empty space next to you. Your heart sank, and you knew it. You knew he was full of shit.

As you stared at the empty spot beside you, the door to your bedroom opened, and Alex walked in, holding a cup of tea.

"Good morning, love," he smiled, leaning down to kiss your forehead. You stared at him, dumbfounded. "What?" he asked, raising an eyebrow.

You didn't say anything; instead, you wrapped your arms around his neck, hugging him tightly. "I thought you left," you whispered.

"I told you-no, I promised you I wouldn't. I don't plan on it either," he replied, and you felt a wave of relief wash over you.

You smiled and kissed his cheek, but then you caught a whiff of something... eggs? Bacon?

You raised an eyebrow. "Are you cooking?" you asked, smirking.

"Yes... is that okay?" he wondered, a hint of uncertainty in his voice.

"Yes! That's fine! I didn't know you could cook!" you laughed, genuinely impressed.

"I've had enough of you already. Of course i can cook," he joked, laughing along with you.

"A man of many talents," you smiled.

"Making you cum is number one," he joked, and you playfully slapped his arm.

"shut up!" you exclaimed, both embarrassed and amused.

a/n: meow…

chat feel free to send me your thoughts I DONT LIKE THIS BUT WHATEVER XX

[stardustloserdoll]

SITTING ON ALS FACE PLSSSSSS PLS PLS PLS AND PLS FETUS AL SO HE DOESNT REALLY KNOW WHAT TO DO BUT HES JUST HAPPY HIS FACE IS STUCK IN BETWEEN UR THIGHS

oh my god anon..

back from the dead 🔥🙏

get your face in between my thighs

female reader

alex had been quiet for the past days lately. his head cluttered with the thought of you, sitting on his face. he ate you out when you two got intimate but he always dreamed that you’d sit on his face. he was too shy and scared to ask, cause he didn’t really know what to do but he wanted to try it.

late at night he’d be dreaming about it thrusting his hips into the bed. just him gripping your thighs while you let out moans and whimpers, tugging on his hair. thats was when he decided to ask you one day.

you both sat on the couch watching a movie, your head on his shoulder. he wasnt even watching the movie, his eyes would occasionally wander to your exposed thighs. he licked his lips watching as your skirt slightly rode up as you moved.

"alex?" "alex!" he snapped out of it and looked at you "huh oh. sorry babe." he muttered rubbing the back of his neck "zoned out for a bit." you smiled "its okay. is everything alright? you've been kinda out of it for a couple days." you ran your fingers through his hair, he closed his eyes as you did that, a small moan escaping his lips.

"y-yeah im fine. just.. thinking." he sighed opening his eyes moving his hand to rub your thigh. "y/n?" he felt his face growing hot. "i-" he began. biting his lip looking down as he continued rubbing your thigh, moving under your skirt. "yes al?" he looked up still biting his lip "sit on my face."

"please." he gripped your thigh looking at you with puppy dog eyes.

he gulped looking up at you, licking his lips and pulling you onto his mouth making you gasp. he moaned against your cunt, muffled thank you’d coming from his lip. you watched his eyes rolling back in pleasure as his tongue moved sloppily on you. “oh god al.” you gripped his hair making him whimper.

he opened his eyes looking up at you with his big eyes. the more you moaned the tighter he gripped your thighs and pulled you more onto him his nose rubbing against you. “al..” you moaned, he groaned against you, his movements speeding up as he licked and sucked at your clit.

drool slipping past his lips soaking your cunt even more. he panted heavily against you swirling his tongue making you whimper as he moved his tongue back and forth. he murmured praises into your cunt, thrusting his hips up. you moved your hips on his mouth. he pulled away slightly breathing rapidly “am i doing good?” he asked his mouth and chin covered in your slick and saliva.

“y-yes al.. just keep going.. you’re doing so good.” he moaned nodding his head pulling you back onto his mouth. “oh god..” you whined, your mouth parting letting his name fall out your mouth. “al im gonna.” after a few more licks, he felt you come on his tongue. he sighed loosening his grip on your thigh pulling away licking his lips looking into your eyes. “oh my god.” he whispered “need your pussy on my face more.”

[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

[joekeeryswife]

hi hihi can u do an age gap fic w alex - like both alex and reader are famous and reader gets a ton of hate for dating him and alex js comforts reader 😕

Age Gap - a.t

a/n: hey loves! i haven’t written for alex in ages! my requests are open for him so please send me some through, enjoy 🫶🏼 y/n is 26 and Alex is 38

you had been with Alex for over a year and a half but only just recently announced it. you knew that you both would get hate for it but you didn’t realise the extent of hate you would receive. you had a big following, you were a famous supermodel and an influencer and met Alex when you were at one of the music release parties and hit it off straight away.

you’d gotten hate before, being a model came with the thousands of people hating on you just for being yourself but it never got to you because you knew that these people were either jealous or just bored and you never even looked at their comments because it wasn’t worth it.

there had been speculation of you and Alex being together your whole relationship which never bothered you, you didn’t feel the need to explain yourself when people would ask questions about it but you and Alex were both sick of not being able to go out in public and do normal stuff together.

Alex had gone out to the studio a few hours ago to do some recording and you took the opportunity to look through the comments of your post. you weren’t shocked at you getting hate but shocked at the amount of hate you were receiving.

your post was cute, a few pictures of you and Alex in a photobooth together which showed how much you were in love and you were upset that people didn’t agree. there were obviously hundereds of lovely comments, people saying how great you looked together, how loved up you looked but they were overwhelmed with the thousands of hate comments.

yn.yln: 🤍 @AlexTurner

View 104,628 comments

honeymoon: babies🥹

yourbestfriend: surprised i could keep this quiet 🤫

ynfan01: YAY OMFG

ynfan5183: NEVER BEEN SO EXCITED IN ALL MY LIFE

arcticm0nkeys: ew wth. Alex should be with someone older than this girl, isn’t she like 20 or something?

fan61838: y/n is so gorgeous i can’t deal! Alex is a lucky guy.

user0183: no one wants you here, you shouldn’t be with someone like Alex. he deserves so much better than you.

user163: wtaf is this. why would he want her?

yn.alexfan163: the update we have all been waiting for🤭

user74: no because tell me why alex chose her? she is way too young.

monkeys5363: our boy looks so happy, they deserve the world 🥰

user260: please leave y/n, you don’t deserve alex.

monkeysfan: alex looks so happy guys, leave them be 🫶🏼

ynswife: they’re so in love🫶🏼

alexturnershair: don’t even they looks so happy🥹

user54: these photos are vile. Alex honey we forgive you for choosing her but please leave. you deserve someone so much better than y/n.

your eyes filled with tears and you quickly put your head in your hands. the hate never usually got to you but this was a whole new level. were these people right? did alex really deserve someone better? were you really too young for him? your mind was filled with a million questions. what if alex decided that you were too young for him and that he deserved someone better than you?

a few tears spilled down your cheeks, this was awful. you had never felt so pick on up until now. yes you were a lot younger than him but that didn’t mean you weren’t mature enough. it wasn’t like you were underage, you were a full grown adult and these people were picking on you because you were younger than alex?

your mind was going so crazy that you didn’t even hear Alex come through the front door. he had even called out to you and got worried when he got no response. he found you sat curled up on the sofa, your small sobs could be heard and his body filled with worry.

“sweetheart? what’s happed?” he quickly sat down next to you and pulled your body into his. he kissed your forehead and rubbed his hand up and down your back soothingly. he heard you sniffle as you tried to calm yourself down but it was no use, a sob escaped you making his heart break. “take a deep breathe, talk to me honey”

you tried to regulate your breathing, listening to his heartbeat as you hugged him closer. “you’re gonna leave me” he was confused, where has this come from? it was completely out of character for you and he had never ever seen you like this before. “what are you on about baby, i’m not going to leave you” he felt your arms squeeze his waist.

you pulled away so you could look at him, his face was filled with concern and confusion. “i was reading the comments on our photo” he sighed, he knew something like this would happen when you announced your relationship but he didn’t think it would make you cry like this. “you shouldn’t read them sweetheart, you know them people are just jealous” his thumb reached out to stroke your tear stained cheeks.

“i know but they were all saying how you deserved so much better than me and how im way too young for you. that you deserve someone who’s closer to you in age and it just got my mind going. maybe you do deserve better than me” now his heart had full on shattered. you sounded so vulnerable and scared and the look on your face made it even worse. you just looked so sad and he hated that. deep down he was fuming that these people had made you cry but he didn’t want to show you that.

“do you really think i listen to what the comments have to say? do you think i let my so called fans dictate my life? i don’t listen to them. they can’t decide who’s good for me and who’s not, they don’t even know me. and if i had an issue with your age i wouldn’t of dated you in the first place, it isn’t like you’re a minor. you’re an adult same as what i am. i know it’s hard to not read the comments but i really don’t give a shit about what they say” his eyes were soft as he looked at you, he hated that these people had made you this upset.

“i love you and those dickheads can just fuck off. you are the only girl for me, yes i’ve had relationships in the past but i’ve never ever felt like this and we don’t need their input, we never did before so why listen now” he lent in and gave you a quick kiss on the lips. “now i bet there were some nice comments in there, they can’t be all bad surely” you showed him your phone which was still showing the post.

he looked through the comments and shook his head as he read the bad ones. “most of these people don’t even follow me, they’re just doing it because they want attention and they want to hurt you but don’t let them get to you, they’re just a bunch of assholes who don’t have a life” he passed your phone back to you and pulled you into him again.

“you’re too pretty to cry honey, i love you and that’s all that matters. no more looking at these silly comments” he felt you nod “i love you too” he kissed your forehead softly.

[tilebytiles]

till you tell me to leave - a.t.

summary: alex would probably let you stay at his house for the rest of your life, right? word count: 3k warnings: making out so a little suggestive, major fluff otherwise a/n: this was SUPPOSED to be a short little drabble but quickly turned into a whole self-indulgent thing bc cowboy!al is very special to me. smiles cutely settle for a draw

the first time you went to Alex’s farm, you were immediately reluctant to leave. you were situated on Twilight’s saddle, ambling along behind Alex and Lizzie and barely past the front gates that he’d just opened before already trying to cook up some lame, half-assed excuse for your parents so you could stay another day. or two. or maybe for the rest of your life. he had a lot of land to his name; the fence around his property stretched on for a while, and the path that led to his house was a bit of a long one, although not unbearably so. to your immediate right was a little pond and — were those fucking ducks?

“you alright?” he asked, his low chuckle snapping you out of your momentary mystification. you gripped the reins and nudged Twilight around so you could face him, watching as he pushed the gates shut. you did, admittedly, watch the way his arm muscles flexed in the sunlight for just a little too long to be considered normal.

“you have ducks,” you said, as if that explained everything.

“that I do.” Lizzie’s reins in hand, he approached you and your steed, peering up at you from beneath the rim of his hat. if you didn’t know any better, you would have reached over and snatched it from his head to put it on your own. unfortunately, you did know better, and your relationship with Alex was nowhere near the level that you felt was appropriate for riding a cowboy.

the dirt shifted and was kicked up beneath his boots and your horses’ hooves as the two of you made your way down the path to his house. the silence that settled in the air was comfortable, although you did still try to search for things to say. finding none, you opted to look around the property some more, now that you weren’t so distracted by the ducks. the area immediately surrounding his house and, consequently, the farm had been cleared of trees, although there were trees closer to the perimeter, making the fence almost imperceptible. you could hear birds chirping in the distance, and one of the ducks quacked. scattered throughout the grass were flowers of different kinds. the sun was out, but it wasn’t uncomfortably hot; just bright. you felt like you’d stepped into a scene out of a fairytale, not your boyfriend’s farm.

ah. boyfriend. that term still felt weird to use.

although he’d given you his phone number and texted you regularly (you remembered the smile he’d given you when he said “I’m not good with phones, but f’you, I’ll try”), your relationship with him hadn’t been solidified until the last time he’d dropped by your house for a quick visit. it wasn’t intentional — neither of you had planned to bring it up to your parents, but when you’d sat down for dinner, your father chewed his food and eyed Alex for several seconds before saying, “you want my blessin’, boy?”

Alex nearly choked on his water. he coughed a few times and set his glass down, spluttering, “what?”

“hon, what did I tell you about scarin’ him like that?” your mother scolded, lightly swatting at your father’s arm.

his resolve was stronger than steel, though. “you think I’m blind?” he pointed his knife accusatorially at Alex. “I’ve seen the way you look at my daughter. I might be old, but I’m no fool. I’ve seen it all, boy.” he lowered his knife to carve another piece out of his steak. “you’re pinin’ after her the same way I pined after m’wife.”

you dropped your fork and buried your face into your hands. “papa, please,” you groaned.

“your … wife.” Alex’s foot nudged yours beneath the table, a silent plea for your help. you all but kicked him, making him hiss under his breath. he was on his own.

"don't pay him any mind," the wife in question said, waving her hand dismissively at her husband's words. "he's jus' grumpy 'cause I didn't let him have his nightly beer."

"right." Alex didn't seem to buy her reassurances — he might've looked a little more panicked, actually — but he certainly wasn't about to dwell on it. he glanced over at you then, setting his fork down. "marriage wouldn't be ... so bad."

"Alex!" you hissed, kicking his foot again. he winced. you glared at your father. "no more marriage talk. I'm not even twenty-one yet."

later that night, as Alex laid beside you, arm draped over your waist and fingers drawing lazy circles against your back, his expression grew contemplative. "I meant what I said earlier, y'know."

you opened your eyes. you'd almost fallen asleep. "what do you mean?"

"about marriage. I think I'd like t' marry ya someday."

you were sure he could make out your blush in the darkness. "well ..." you let out a small huff. "that's not for a while."

"no, I s'pose not." silence, then, "can I at least call you mine?"

and that was that.

Alex’s home was quaint; not too big and not too small, it was constructed of wood and had a porch with stairs that led up to it. on the porch were two rocking chairs, as well as a table with a lantern. one of the chairs had a blanket draped over its back; you wondered how much time he spent out there. with his help, you hopped off of Twilight and followed him up the steps to the front door. late nights were etched into the wood that surrounded you, and when he saw you eyeing a small stain beside one of the rocking chairs, he said, “Nick spilled his whiskey there. was never able to get rid of that damn stain.”

his keys jingled as he pushed one into the knob and unlocking the door, swinging it open. he turned to you with a soft smile, the kind that made your heart flutter every time. “go ahead and make yourself at home, alright? I’ll take the horses ‘round back an’ bring your stuff in for ya.”

“okay.” he freed his keys from the doorknob and stuffed them back into his pocket, then turned to retrieve the horses, but not without giving you a quick peck on the forehead first. affection had become easier between you two over time, as natural as breathing. every touch, every soft utterance, felt like hot chocolate on a bleak winter’s day. the affection he held for you — you weren’t sure yet if it was love, and frankly, the L word was a scary one — never failed to set off fireworks in your head, momentarily putting your neuron pathways on halt as every cell rejoiced.

the walls of the home were painted a creamy white — briefly, you wondered if he’d built the home himself, but while Alex was a lot of things, he was most definitely not a carpenter. the floor was comprised of wooden planks that were polished and shiny, and the sight of it reminded you of sliding around your house in socks as a kid. the door that led to the backyard was situated beside a large brick fireplace. in the living room, different photographs sat framed on the walls, some of landscapes and others of Alex and his friends. he had a couple of guitars hanging by the fireplace, and they made you wonder how serious of a hobby playing was for him. did he know any other instruments? could he sing? you’d have to ask him at some point. there was a sofa and an armchair, and a giant rug sprawled out in the center of the room. there were bookshelves, too, and they were filled to the brim with novels, biographies, and the like. they hosted random trinkets, too. there was even a potted plant in the corner.

you made sure to slip off your shoes and leave them by the door before venturing any further. despite appearing quite rustic on the outside (and on the inside, to some degree), the interior had clear modern touches. one of these was the partially open floor plan, with a wall that spanned from floor to ceiling but not wall to wall and served as a barrier between the kitchen and the living room — it had a window installed in it, offering a glimpse of the kitchen. behind the wall sat the dining table; it was a paler wood than you’d seen so far, as were the chairs. the kitchen walls were painted the same cream color, and there were a couple of photos here, too, including some held up by magnets on the fridge. the sink and dish rack were both clear of dishes — Alex must have cleaned up before he left to get you. the ceiling fan overhead had a light bulb in its center, protected by a small glass dome. the microwave sat above the oven, and there was a door that led into the pantry.

wandering back into the living room, you headed for the stairs next. there was a closet built underneath the stairs that didn’t house much, likely due to its size. you quickly ascended the staircase, which opened up into a hall on the second floor. both sides had two doors, and there was another door at the end of the hall. opening the first door on the right revealed another closet; the second door led to what you assumed to be a guest bedroom. the first door on the left was the master bedroom (where Alex slept), and the second was the bathroom, which was connected to the bedroom. the door at the end of the hall led to a bigger closet than the one downstairs.

the room you were most interested in was Alex’s. it wasn’t as decorated as the living room, which surprised you. one of the only photos you saw sat idly on the nightstand, right beside the bedside lamp. there was a book on the nightstand, too; you guessed he was in the middle of reading it. the window provided a nice view of the front of the property, and you peeked through the blinds to see if you could spot Alex below. he was nowhere to be found, though. his bed was neatly made, and you wondered if that was a regular habit of his or if he’d only done it for you. his closet was full of jeans and button-down shirts — typical for a cowboy, you thought. he had a fair number of shoes, too.

“if you wanted to wear my clothes, you coulda just asked.” you jumped and whipped around, spotting Alex in the doorway. he leaned against the frame, arms crossed, and cocked an eyebrow at you. he was smirking, too. you wanted to punch him.

you refrained, though, and smiled sheepishly. “I was just looking.”

“well, the offer stands as long as you’re here,” he said, approaching you. he stood beside you and peered into his closet, as if it, too, was his first time seeing his own wardrobe. “I think you’d look real cute in one o’ my shirts.”

you flushed and looked away. “I’d probably look kind of weird. they’d be too big on me.”

he snorted. “yeah? that’s why you’d look cute, doll.”

deciding you needed to end this conversation before you combusted, you quickly asked, “where’d you put my stuff?”

“in the other bedroom.” he jerked his head back towards the hallway. “figured we can jus’ move it in here later an’ get you properly unpacked.”

“you want me to stay in here with you?”

he threw an arm around your shoulders and pressed a lingering kiss to your temple. “what kind of prick would I be if I left my girl to sleep on her own?”

his girl — you liked how it sounded coming from him.

•••••

“Alex, that’s cheating!”

“it is not! Y/N, I swear on m’life, I’m not tryin’ to cheat!”

the two of you were sat in the middle of the living room floor, engaged in an intense game of uno. you hadn’t even planned to play at first, but after having dinner about an hour ago, you’d found the pack of cards on one of the shelves (one of his friends had left it after a visit). your first round, which was a practice round, was comically short-lived (“I’m rusty,” he’d said after losing in less than ten minutes). the game you were currently locked in had lasted about half an hour and showed no signs of stopping soon; each time one of you approached victory, the other took it away.

“I have to be able to see all of your cards,” you huffed. “it’s cheating.”

Alex sighed, rolled his eyes and made a dramatic show of fanning his cards out further, revealing the card that had been hidden behind another. “I wasn’t trying t’ do it on purpose,” he grumbled. “why does it even matter?”

you put down a yellow 7. “because it’s the rules, alex.”

his tongue darted out to wet his lips as he set down a draw four card. “blue. I didn’t expect you to get so worked up over this, y’know.”

“the aggression is a staple of uno.” you drew four cards and swore under your breath when none of them were blue.

he planted his hand down on the floor behind him and leaned back, eyeing you over his cards. “it’s not like you.” a beat of silence, then he said, “I like it.” he dropped a blue 5.

that made you pause. “you like it?”

he hummed in response, his gaze dropping to your cards as you mulled over what to put down next. “you’re attractive when you’re frustrated.”

ah. that was what he meant. you set down a green 5, hiding behind your hand as heat rushed to your cheeks. “you’re just saying that.”

“yeah? just to get under your skin and tick ya off?”

“yeah.”

he sighed and plucked a green 6 from his hand, dropping it into the discard pile. “my mama didn’t raise a liar, so I’ll say it again: you’re hot when you’re mad, sugar.”

you looked up at him, only to find him staring right back at you. you both remained silent for a few seconds, although you were the first to speak up. “um ...” you looked away again before setting down a green draw two. "thank you." I think, you muttered internally.

he cracked a grin and set his cards down beside him, then motioned you over. “c’mere.”

you set your own cards down and maneuvered over the discard pile, being careful to not knock or scatter any cards. once you were within reach, one of his hands went to your waist and the other to the nape of your neck, pulling you in for a bruising kiss. your home quickly became his lap as you straddled him, and your hands found purchase in his hair in a desperate bid to maintain as much contact between the two of you as possible. although you had kissed like this before, it had only been very occasionally, and the way he pressed himself to you made you feel warm all over.

his teeth grazed your lower lip before his tongue plunged into your mouth, rehearsing its usual dance with yours. a quiet groan crawled out of his throat, muffled by your lips on his, and the hand that had been at your nape moved down to your ass, giving it a light squeeze. you yelped and broke the kiss, practically panting as you stared down at him. a faint string of saliva remained as the only tether between your mouths, although it quickly snapped. you were sure your face was redder than a firetruck, and you dipped your head down to hide it in his neck. his chest rumbled beneath you as he chuckled, his arms wrapping around you and keeping you tucked against him. "so shy all of a sudden," he teased.

you rolled your eyes and nipped at his neck. "shut up."

"I don't think you want me to."

you chose not to satisfy him and turned your head, looking down at his cards on the floor. you squinted. "you had a yellow 4 this entire time?"

he hummed. "that I did."

"you cheated!"

"Y/N, you didn't even notice!"

after you (rightfully) called him out, the two of you decided to wrap it up for the night and head to bed. although your belongings had since been moved into his room, you opted to steal some of his clothes for the night instead. you were right — his shirts were too big on you. his shorts were, too, and they sat low on your hips. he thought you were absolutely adorable, though, and couldn't help but take pictures with his phone when he thought you weren't looking.

as you settled down for the night, he turned to lay on his side, staring at you amidst the darkness of his bedroom. "you should come over more often," he mumbled, almost as if he was talking to himself.

you turned to face him; there was hardly any space between you now. "I was kind of hoping you'd say that," you quietly admitted.

even in the darkness, you could make out his smile, soft and lazy and reserved for only you. "maybe I should kidnap ya. keep you here forever."

"I don't think my parents would like that."

he scoffed. "if I kidnapped you, I wouldn't give a damn 'bout your parents, sweetheart. wouldn't even bother with a ransom, I'd just keep ya all for m'self."

you giggled softly. "I don't know how much I'd complain if you did that, y'know."

he cocked an eyebrow. "you wanna be kidnapped?"

"that's not what I mean, Alex, and you know it."

you both grew quiet after that, and you could feel sleep tugging at you, begging you to succumb to its siren song. you were a breath away from doing just that when he spoke up again. "I really oughta marry you someday, Y/N."

you really hoped he would.

tags: @elexnorislingtxn / @edandmollydeservebetter / @sagegreensimmr / @billyseye / @supernaturalandpain / @not-a-big-slay

[junedenim]

it's three in the morning

for the long haul

warnings: piv, eating, pregnancy piv, mild dad!alex, and probably some other stuff too

word count: 8.8k

There was an attitude when you first met that you each would hold a sense of permanence in each other's lives. It wasn't completely romantic at first. You and Alex met through a series of shared friends.

This was 2013 and you were both otherwise occupied with separate relationships. His was longer and much more stable. Yours was a short passionate fury that ended by early 2014. Coincidentally, as did his.

But still, it wasn't a direct rebound. He was touring and when the band stopped in New York—your home at the time—you stuck around at the after-party with Alex. Nothing much happened there other than a questionable conversation three rounds in.

"It's all speeding up," he said. It was drunk talk and you weren't paying attention to the idea he had spoken before it but you tried your best to follow after. His body came closer and huddled so close to yours, which was excusable in the February chill, but debatable with the indoor heating.

He slung an arm over your shoulder and, with great camaraderie, you slid your arm behind his back; a "friendly" side hug. "Time is weird," you said.

Alex looked at you. His eyes were alcohol-glazy but his soul was bursting to say something. You could both feel the unsaid left lingering and his head moved forward at one point as if he were going to kiss you but it was then decided he would hesitate on that front.

He chuckled through his nose as if some joke had been made before turning his head to look at the buzzing partiers. He nodded at something and you weren't sure if it was related to your statement or not. You took another sip of your vodka Coke and he said, "Timing is everything."

He slipped away from you after that and it's possible he slept with someone else that night but you aren't sure. You don't even know if he would remember. He slept with a lot of people in 2014. It was a messy time.

Later in the year, toward the end of July, he called you from Iowa. Despite the hour, somewhere in the early morning, neither of you was drunk. Alex's sleep schedule had little idea of the concept of time with the mad case of severe jet lag he could be diagnosed with and you, well, you were asleep but you acted like it was normal for him to wake you up at 3 AM.

"Where in Iowa are you from?" He asked. Neither of you had really gotten to know one another. Not those small details. You knew he was from Sheffield but you don't know what college he went to or his parents' names or if he's ever broken a bone. Your relationship had never been built on knowing each other. It was always just about feeling each other. You had always gotten on well, never fought, always laughed, slung arms around one another, and thought about the maybes.

"Why do you ask?" You laughed at the idea of him calling you in the dead of night, sitting outside his tour bus, smoking a cigarette, talking about your tiny hometown.

"We're playing there tomorrow. Council Bluffs or something. You're the only person I know from Iowa." You told him that the first night you met and he latched onto it like it was some lie you told to impress people because people are usually so impressed with the concept of being a Hawkeye. Although, he never got more information about it. He didn't know that you grew up on a corn farm and you learned how to drive your dad's truck at 9 years old.

You scoffed, "Council Bluffs. You might as well just be in Nebraska."

He chuckled. "Sorry. I'll plan it out better for you next time."

"I'm from Beaman. It's close to the center. Very small town," you told him. "But there's a library and a basketball court that becomes an ice skating rink in the winter. It was dull but I liked it."

"Sounds like a nice place to grow up." You shrugged, not that he'd be able to see it. An air of silence hung over the conversation and you're not sure if he was waiting for you to say something in return. And then he suddenly said, "I've been thinking about you. Not just in Iowa."

You weren't sure what that meant. He was still so new to you and a one-on-one phone call had never been done before. You couldn't yet tell what he was trying to convey through the tone of his voice if this was some playful thing, a joke or something serious, a flirtation. "Why?" You questioned.

It was silent and you imagined him shrugging but you'd never know for sure if he did or not. Eventually, he answered, "Guess I just missed you. Is that allowed?" It was rolled in humour and tucked in a laugh so you took it as a joking sweetness. Some sense of sincerity lingered but it wasn't packed with desperation.

So, you told him you missed him too and hopefully you'd hang out again soon. The conversation ended and soon wasn't around the corner. You kept in touch, by text and through friends, but he didn't return from the road until November and you weren't yet one of the people he would hang out with as soon as he was back, especially since you were in New York and he was in LA when he wasn't on the other side of the pond.

But then you moved to LA, right at the beginning of 2015. Truthfully, it was for your boyfriend. It was an awful idea and you knew it. You had only been dating the guy for a few months and retrospectively it was never serious but in the moment fantasy and blurred visions came to mind and they took the wheel from you. Besides, you had a career that you could do anywhere, most of your friends were in LA, and there was, of course, Alex.

At a shared friend's birthday party, you saw Alex again through a barrier of smoke. Your boyfriend was off in the bathroom and Alex was pushing himself off the wall with a drunken stumble and throwing his arms around you.

"Huck told me you'd be here. Told me you're out in LA. How come you didn't tell me?" His words were rolling out of him quickly with little care where they ended up.

You did your best to reciprocate the hug and follow his sloppy manner as he leaned back against the wall. You stirred your gin & tonic with the flick of your wrist, still sober having just arrived. "It's all been hectic. We're just starting to settle out here."

His eyes drifted away, looking behind you, and when the cold hand touched your back you realized what he was looking at. "Yeah, well, once you are, we should get together or something. Alex, by the way." He waved to your boyfriend, staying against the wall this time. He looked like he was having trouble keeping his eyes open but his speech was clear with no slurring sounded.

You put your arm around your boyfriend's back, returning his hold. "I'd like that. We'll probably have some housewarming party at some point so..."

Alex hummed his acknowledgment like words were becoming too much work. He brought the spliff to his lips and the smell of marijuana began to give you a headache and a craving at the same time. Someone tapped him on the shoulder, pulling him away from you. It took a moment of staring before you moved to find residency on the couch, but more lingered in the air than just the smell of weed. Uncertainty persisted.

A month later, the house had been settled and a housewarming party occurred but Alex didn't attend. He had said he was out of town but you're not sure where out of town. It didn't matter much. You didn't live in that house for very long.

It would seem like fate stepped in at some point or a mere happenstance that the night you and your boyfriend broke up everyone in the world seemed to be busy. Friends were away for the weekend or had guests staying with them or simply didn't pick up their phones at 2 AM. But Alex did.

When you arrived at his house, he was peculiarly waiting in his driveway. His hands were on his hips and his head cocked in a way that some might interpret as pissed but you knew it was just his resting position.

Your unaffected nature could also be misinterpreted. You didn't feel the urge to cry, and though you were upset at the demise of a loving relationship, it didn't provoke your tear ducts and you remained indifferent.

After exiting your car, he asked, "Are you okay?"

And it was easy to nod and answer, "Truthfully, yes." It's probably easier to feel this way when you are the one who initiated the break-up.

It's also easy to feel that way when instead of going to bed you're accompanied by Alex and drinks. No rejection was involved when downing a bottle of hard liquor, especially when Alex seemed to have it stockpiled. You both operated better drunk, which could have been alarming to an outsider, but for you and Alex it was understandable. It wasn't used as coping, each other was used for that. The alcohol was just an additional treat.

"It's hard to not feel like I'm wasting away my youth," you told him, leaning your head on the back of the couch.

He was on the opposite end, cigarette stuck in his mouth as he spoke, "You're still young."

"Not forever," you lamented. "I guess that's the thing. I'm not particularly pissed it's over. I think I did us both a favour but I'm pissed about running out of time for these things. I mean, I moved across the country for this guy. I used to have fun with guys! Now I'm just following them places and desperately trying to play the role of wife. Like, who am I?"

Alex openly laughed in response.

You giggled in return, "Don't laugh at me."

He shook his head, removing smoke and cigarette from his lips. "I think you're getting worked up over nothing."

"Maybe." You shrugged. "But I don't think so. I don't know what I'm saying. Wait, yes, I do." Alex laughed again. "I'm saying I want to have fun again."

"Right." He nods.

His eyes locked with yours and once his cigarette was stubbed out and the bottle you had been clutching was placed down on the coffee table, his lips then locked with yours. It was harsh and rough like every drunk kiss that had occurred before in history.

It must have been around 4 AM at this point and everything felt hungry. Like this was—he was—your midnight snack. This is when desperation occurs. The quick need for satisfaction with no care about the journey to get there.

Alex's arms clutched around your lower back up to your shoulder blades, pulling you on top of him. Her hands grasped around the endpoints of his sharp jaw making it impossible to be stuck in a heated makeout. You straddled him but it was hard (in two ways) to not feel frustrated quickly.

You reached down, swiping your hands along his chest, and landing on the button of his jeans. Everything must come undone and he understood that perfectly. You didn't even bother to pull his zipper down, instead reaching your hand into his underwear and letting the force drag the zipper apart.

He pulled your hand out just so you could get your top off of you and while your arms were up in the air, you grind on him and soft moans escaped, swallowing it up when your lips reunited. He was a master at unclasping a bra and had easy access to your pussy through your small skirt made up of flowy material.

Your hand made small movements around his cock and his fingers grazed through your folds and he seemed to want to do a version of shared masturbation but you ached for something stronger. You lifted yourself off of him to remove your skirt and panties. He shuffled just enough to kick his jeans and underwear off the bottom of his feet. You finished reaching nudity at the same time.

Alex didn't allow you to straddle him again, pushing you onto your back as he took off his shirt. His nude body hovered over you and the back of your head hit the arm of the couch. You curled your legs around him, pushing his hips toward yours. Everything is non-verbal, all performed through signs. You've always been on the same wavelength and it feels like words would have ruined this and made this all seem questionable.

He quit the foreplay of kissing your neck and pinching your breasts and became rough like this is what you wanted, now shut up and take it. He was in you and on top of you and it's exactly what you wanted: fun. He could be described as a pleasurable jackhammer as he moved in and out of you. Everything was hard and skin was slapping but you're both moaning and none of it was silent whimpers. It was shouts of "Fuck!" and "Harder!" and "Holy shit!" and "Right there!"

It's all responded to correctly. You nipped at his neck and toward the end, he reached down to rub your clit. It's all masterfully done on both of your parts. Your walls clenched around his dick and he stretched you open to a degree that has you grasping at the couch cushions until you've come. Then, he pulled out of you, letting it all go, straight onto your stomach.

Exhaustion and complete silence fell. Alex laid back on his side of the couch, panting. A few breaths passed before he rose and grabbed a rag from the kitchen, wiping his cum off you.

"Is that your cum towel?" You joked.

His face broke a smirk and he nodded. A question hung in the air of what to do next, stuck in the middle of his hot living room. He towered over you as you sat up, slowly adjusting. He folded the rag up in his hand and then asked, "You wanna use it again?"

Laughter erupted from you but you did end up using it again the next time in his bedroom, which allowed comfort and greater sensuality. It was less rushed but left you both exhausted by the end of it. You slept like rag dolls, limbs hanging over one another, and powerful sleep.

In the morning (or afternoon, you're unsure), with your bodies connected, you both awoke around the same time, blinking away sleep and finding his eyes doing the same. Your unsaid nature returned and you weren't sure if you should even leave the bed or if you should be racing out the front door.

"Thanks for letting me stay," you whispered with tired vocal chords.

He shuffled closer, sheets rustling, and licking away sleep. "Course," he croaked. "You could stay forever."

It might have meant more, especially after fucking each other, but it felt more like a favour than a request. You ate breakfast together before you left, no goodbye kisses, and he said goodbye at the door instead of walking you to your car. Two weeks later, he joined you and a group of friends for drinks where you shared light small talk and he bought a round. You left for New York two days later with no acknowledgment of anything more. It just was what it was and neither of you was hurt by that, but both of you still felt longing for it to be otherwise.

In the heat of summer, you visited LA and met up with Alex for dinner. The LA visit was more for business but you decided to sort out the personal while you're there. His hair was longer, cut around the ears, no longer greased back. It's a reminder of that morning when everything was thrown about without care. He was dressed in a white button-down that was unbuttoned enough to have a clear view of the chain that hung around his neck and his seductiveness was so clear you have a hard time believing he didn't know exactly how this night was going to end.

There was small talk but Alex was quick to cut through the bullshit and get to the heart of things. "We've never had dinner together before," he said. "Not just the two of us." A smirk played on his face and lewd images flashed in your mind.

You sipped your wine as a coping mechanism and leaned back in your chair. You needed to be far from him, at least for now. Playing it cool was the main goal. "Are you telling me you don't want to hang out with me?"

"Oh, I want to hang out with you but I was thinking of something much different."

Intentions were clear and things were laid out on the table so when he invited you back to his house for drinks, you had no issue with him stopping in an abandoned parking lot so you could fuck each other.

Because fucking was easy and you always felt things together instead of knowing things together. So, when he takes you in the backseat, confined, and hot & heavy, it feels romantic for something usually so drenched in the word "dirty."

The leather seats stick against your sweaty back while he undoes his belt and then his trousers before sliding your underwear aside and going into you. The AC is blasting but you don't feel it and there's a lightheaded feeling likely from wine and dehydration but you blame the way his cock hits that spot in you.

The rest of the drive isn't awkward and that's when things started to feel different. It became clear that the sense of permanence with one another wasn't a platonic coincidence of sharing friends but something much more loving. You laughed that his car radio was stuck on the sports channel and made fun of the baseball announcers shouting over the Dodgers losing to the Phillies.

Before this shift, you expected to continue your intense rush to instant passion; fucking in the hallway, fucking in the living room, fucking in the kitchen, fucking on the bathroom floor, fucking in the shower, fucking in his bed, fucking against a wall, fucking on the washing machine, fucking on the ceiling if you could. Instead, you watched the rest of the Dodgers v. Phillies game, despite knowing little about baseball and Alex's knowledge reliant on Bad News Bears and high school phys ed.

Besides, little attention was paid to the game itself. He drank a beer and made you a vodka Coke and baseball is boring and Alex had suddenly become everything.

"There's a reason baseball is America's pastime," you commented. "Who the fuck wants to sit and watch this all day?"

Alex shrugged, a smile playing on his cheeks. "It's fun when they get a home run."

"It's fun when I get a strike in bowling, doesn't mean everyone wants to sit and watch me," I struck back.

He chuckled, wiping his beer lip. "You like bowling?"

"Yeah. My dad used to set up empty cans and have us play. The nearest bowling alley was 45 minutes away so we went there on special occasions."

Alex smiled, completely charmed, and that's when you started knowing each other. Later, you walked to his bedroom and had sex and while it was passionate, it had lost its spontaneity quality, which didn't lessen it, instead changing it into something new.

The following morning, you took his old words of "stay forever" to heart and never left LA. Your return move to LA was mocked by your friends for your coming-and-going nature and moving everything all over again was a pain in the ass but Alex flew to New York and helped pack your things. When you moved into your new place, Alex helped you unpack and helped "Christen the place," as he put it by going down on you on those marble kitchen counters.

Separate places felt ideal not to rush things, but soon it seemed wasteful as most nights were spent at Alex's. You weren't a big fan of your new place in comparison to Alex'ss, which wasn't shocking. Alex had a pool for Christ's sake.

Although, it still felt like the best fit. You didn't like how much Alex smoked and Alex didn't like how messy you were. While technically not living together, you fought over these things like you did.

Smoking usually went:

"It's my house. I can do it however much I want to!"

"You're going to ruin the house by smoking inside it!"

"I paid for it!"

"You're killing yourself!"

"It's my lungs!"

"I'm gonna die from secondhand smoking!"

Messiness usually went:

"You can't come over and trash my house!"

"It's barely anything! If you let me have a drawer this wouldn't be a problem!"

"It's not just your clothes! You leave dirty dishes everywhere!"

"I get to it eventually!"

"So do the rats!"

But all and all, it always ended relatively positively. Alex took to smoking on his balcony more and you would join him from time to time. You didn't really clean up more, but Alex did give you a top drawer in his dresser.

At the beginning of December, you both attended a Christmas party, where you and Alex wore a Santa hat you bought at Party City because neither of you owned anything festive. However, everyone at the party considered it to make you the cutest couple there. You both thought it was rather cheesy but you leaned into the cliche of it and got drunk off eggnog and roleplayed Mr. & Mrs. Claus at the party until it verged on too creepy.

Over a shared cup of eggnog, Alex asked you, "You want to come to Sheffield?"

Meeting the parents had never been discussed. It was easy when his parents lived in another country and your parents were scared of planes. Though excitement and nerves bubbled, you answered, "Sure" before taking a sip.

He chuckled, now accustomed to what your reactions meant. "We could do Christmas there."

You said, "Sure" and sipped the eggnog again because it helped fight against those nerves in your stomach.

Alex chucked again because he was charmed, now completely lost in you.

Christmas in Sheffield was cold. It rained heavily the whole time you were there. You and Alex only braved walking around town once on the 23rd when the rain had stopped momentarily. The city centre was time for sightseeing all his old haunts. You walked arm-in-arm with Alex in an effort to combat the cold but still keep your hands in your coat pockets.

You got a half hour in before it started pouring rain and you were left feeling like idiots for not bringing an umbrella with you. The car was far away and you both debated ducking into a bookstore but you were both already too soaked and cold and decided just to head back to the car. He grabbed your hand, leading the way, as you raced through the unbearably cold beating rain.

On the way back to his childhood home, the rain had increased even more making it nearly impossible for Alex to see properly while driving. "This is how you end up killing someone," you said.

Alex put his hand on your shoulder but kept his eyes steady on the road. "Relax. I know how to drive."

You removed his hand from your shoulder and placed it back on the wheel. "Then, keep both hands at 10 and 2," you ordered.

He laughed and reached over to kiss your cheek and while the affection made you gain a cavity, your nerves bubbled up as you pushed him away. "Eyes on the road, mister!"

You both made it back unscathed, minus your socks, which had been soaked through. The house was warm and the smell of dinner wafted through the air. The house was quiet other than the pattering of rain and some jazz record his dad had put on. It felt like coming home.

Christmas dinner, however, was hectic. You drove out to his grandparents' place and the quiet 4-person car ride led to a fistful of screaming grandchildren and uncles whose laughs broke the sound barrier.

It had you turning to him. "This is your family?"

"Yeah. Hard to believe, right?" The calmness of Alex must come from his mum's side of the family.

Once dinner was served, the noise level calmed down as people stuffed their faces and they wished to show a great impression to their American guest of honour. The questions were light and it was clear that you weren't the first American girl Alex had brought home but everyone was welcoming and Alex placed a reassuring arm on the back of your chair. He would occasionally lift his hand and play with the longest strands of your hair, bouncing the curls you had made that morning.

Later, while the young kids played with the toys they had just received as gifts, Alex and you drank tea together. It was a warm distance for the fast nights of Los Angeles. You leaned close to Alex on the settee so he could hear your words. "I like Sheffield a lot."

He turned his head away from watching the kids, meeting your eyes. A smile crept to his lips. "Good." His hand smoothed down your sweater-covered arm. "I'm happy you're happy."

That in turn made you smile. "I like this quietness. You know, of the city, not this house."

Alex chuckled and pushed the front hanging pieces of hair behind your shoulder, eyes sculpting over your body. "It's nice to come back. Feels like a reset."

You took your fancy tea cup off your fancy tea plate and took a sip, feeling like a proper English lady. "You should come to Beaman. You'll probably hate it but it's like no one else in the world exists out there."

He hummed, staring softly at you. His eyes made the ice in you melt. "If you love it, I'll love it," he promised.

"It'll just be you, me, and the chickens," you giggled.

Alex grinned, skimming his thumb over your cheekbone. "Hm. I love you."

It caught all the air in the room and it suddenly didn't feel as cold as it did a minute before. You inched closer to him and smiled because he was smiling. "You've never told me that before, you know."

He furrows his brows, playing up his acting. "I haven't?"

"Actually, you told me when you were drunk once. Back in October, at that Halloween party."

He squints seriously this time. "I don't remember this."

You coyly smile. "I know. It was when Miles and me were carrying you inside and I couldn't figure out if you were saying it to me or him."

He leaned forward, his arm pulling you toward him as he laughed in your ear before kissing your cheek. "You. Always you."

"Good." You clapped your hands. "I'll hang this over Miles's head for decades."

That night, Alex fell asleep quickly, allowing you to realize something. You nudged him awake, making him groan. "What?"

You curled your arm around him. "Nothing. I'm sorry I woke you."

His arms moved around your waist, laying you on top of him. His eyes stayed shut, not wanting to lose his sleepiness. "It's alright," he mumbled. "Everything okay?"

"Yeah." You leaned into his ear, whispering, "Love you."

A grin spread across his lips, enticing you to lean over and kiss the corner of it. He hummed. "Love you too. Night."

The following year, Alex went away on tour. You stayed, he went, but it never felt like it placed a strain on the relationship. There was longing and missing but never any resentment and as Alex would put it, "It always makes for great reunion sex."

You briefly joined them in August when they played California: Santa Ana, San Diego, and Outside Lands in San Francisco. They were all one after the next and left you exhausted and though Alex was much more well-adjusted to the pace of touring, it was reaching the tail end and he struggled with the comedown on it all.

Those were the only times you grew frustrated with one another. You never really yelled or fought—maybe because you didn't want to or maybe because you were in close quarters with other people—although, you had tiffs.

Much like your annoyances at home, traveling or touring only amplified what truly annoyed you about each other but in a way—a super corny, cheesy way—you loved Alex even more for that.

"I like that you're not perfect," you said late to him one night. He was smoking a cigarette and though the weather was hot, there was a nighttime breeze that settled over the two of you.

"Gee, thanks," he quipped, puffing away.

You knocked a shoulder into him. "I'm being sweet. If you were perfect then I'd feel inadequate all the time in comparison but since you've got these flaws and vices that make you more real, in a roundabout way, you are perfect. For me, at least."

Alex grew amused with every passing word, tucking an arm behind you. "Well, you're perfect. I hope you feel that."

You shifted your body to get a full look at him. "Maybe not perfect but I feel worthy or something. You always make me feel adequate. I appreciate that."

He shrugged, unsure of how to respond. "You're easy to love. I've never struggled with that."

That's always been the word: easy. From the moment you met, it was a clear link holding you two together, and with time doing its thing, it only grew slowly into what it should be. There was never a force of change, you held onto each other until you clicked at the right time. After that, there was no way to disrupt it.

You moved into Alex's in September. After the tour (and even before), you spent all your time there anyway. He decided over breakfast one day to make it official.

He pulled out a pan to make eggs but before he could place it on the stove, he stared at it. "This is your pan," he said."

You looked up from your cereal. "Oh, yeah, you don't have small pans so I brought mine over. It's better for your eggs, you know. Heats up quicker."

Alex began to laugh, placing the pan down on the stove, and his hands on his hips. You chuckled along with him, even though you were confused. "What's so funny?"

He shook his head, trying to shake off the laughter. "Do you even have anything at your place anymore?"

"Um, I don't know." you thought aloud. You shoveled a pile of cereal in your mouth.

"Why don't you just sell the place?" He suggested. "Move in here."

You shrugged. "Maybe."

"Maybe?" He questioned.

"Yeah, I mean, I like my place."

Alex snorted. "You're never at your place."

"I still like it," you insisted.

He moved over, coming behind you like a snake, and hugging your waist tightly. "Come on, move in," he whispered in your ear.

"I'll think about it," you said as he kissed your neck.

Alex decided on other plans for breakfast. You stood up to clean your bowl but his arms stopped you from making it to the kitchen sink. "I have a convincing argument," he said, taking the bowl out of your hands and setting it down.

You laughed at his bravado but you were soon overpowered by it. He bent you over the counter harshly with a kiss to your left shoulder blade as a form of salvation. He kneeled down on both his knees and grazed his hands on your butt, playing with the fabric of your shorts. He squeezed and pulled and yanked, eventually dragging the material off of you and having it lay at your feet.

Alex's slow nature in the morning took hold as he danced his fingers around your cunt. The tips of his fingers edged on the lips of your pussy. The thumb on his other hand, touched over your asshole, making it pucker up with tension.

"Your teasing is only making me want to say no," you said, desiring relief as soon as possible.

Alex only hummed and muttered, "Interesting." He placed a light kiss on your inner thigh but it only felt like he was moving further away from the point of release. He moved up and kissed your left butt cheek, his hand squeezing the right.

His touch became light and he moved his hand back down to your lips. "I know how to get you there," he insisted. He tapped both your knees. "Spread. They're so close together. It's like you don't want me to touch you."

"It's called being bored," you retorted.

Then, Alex slapped your ass. He'd never done anything more than a pat and it was usually more in a casual setting, not when you were butt naked and not that hard.

You turned your head around, looking down at him with a squint. "Did you just slap my ass?"

"Yeah," he quickly admitted. "Why? Did you like it?" A smirk presented as if he already knew the answer.

You didn't want to give in to him. This was frustration, it wasn't supposed to be satisfaction. You wanted him begging for you, not the other way around. But you couldn't help it. You bit your lip and turned away, not wanting him to see the pleasurable smile on your face. "Maybe."

But then he overwhelmed you, diving straight in and placing his mouth directly on your cunt, dragging a long moan out of you. You could feel the coldness of the counter through your shirt, erecting your nipples. Your hands made a fist, unable to grab onto anything, thwarting you.

His tongue plunged into you and then moved up to your clit before pulling away again, making everything unbearable. His mouth moved to kiss your inner thigh before he left completely to slap your ass again. "You alright?" He asked to make sure, even if you gasped in delight at every feeling.

"Go back down," you demanded.

Alex listened and returned to your core, licking his way through your fold, and reaching his tongue up to your clit. He continued the game of agony, moving back and forth from the pleasurable, but slowly the edging made for a great build-up and he began to lay it on thick, never abandoning your clit until your legs were shaking and you were practically pushing him away from you.

He stood up and slapped your ass. You moved in on Tuesday.

Not much changed. You already had drawers in his dresser and space in his closet and pans in his kitchen. You had already infected his house with your essence and the only difference was you weren't paying rent on a place you were barely ever sleeping.

As the new year began, things slowed. Alex started growing his hair out, stopped shaving, and became far more reclusive. He had grown tired from the road, was now in his 30s, and, most importantly, settled. At times, that thought was terrifying for you, staring down the barrel of this being the rest of your life. Other times, it was comforting, usually waking up in the morning next to Alex.

But there was a lifestyle shift in Alex that you weren't yet aligned with. He rebuffed the idea of going out, talked about leaving LA, and locked himself away in his music room. You weren't particularly annoyed at the latter other than it sometimes felt like he was locking you out of part of him. The idea of leaving LA wasn't unappealing, but he longed for England more and you were American through and through. Going out, well, maybe that's where you got into trouble.

Alex's newfound life as a hermit wasn't horrible now that you were living together but you started to go out more and more without him. Usually with various groups of friends, sometimes for work, two times with Miles, and one time by yourself. Alex said no to going so often that you stopped asking. Soon, you weren't spending many nights together. He'd stay up late working on music or you'd stay out late drinking. Like everything else, it eventually came to a head.

"I think I'm going to Beaman next week," you told him while getting ready to go out one night.

He was in the shower. He was staying in. "Why?"

You furrowed your brows toward the shower curtain. "I haven't been back in a while. My mom's birthday is at the end of the month."

"Alright," he said over the sound of rushing water.

"Do you want to come with me?"

For a moment, only the shower made a noise. It didn't even sound like Alex moved an inch. You stared at the shower curtain and thought he might pop his head out. But he didn't and you didn't move to open the curtain either. Finally, he answered, "No, no. I think I'll stay here. Jamie's coming into town soon."

You thought about fighting it or asking him if he was going to do anything with Jamie, instead, you said, "Okay. I'm leaving now."

"Alright," he said, "Have fun. I love you." He never came out from behind the curtain. When you came home he was asleep.

Upon your return from Iowa, Alex picked you up at the airport. The car ride home was pleasant and he made dinner. You were scraping your fork along the plate when he asked, "Would you ever want to live in Iowa again?"

You snorted at the ridiculousness. "I left home when I was 18 and have only lived in New York and LA. Does that strike you as someone who wants to move back to the Midwest?"

 Alex shrugged and thoughtfully looked down at his nearly empty plate. "I just never knew if you thought about it."

"Are you thinking about it? About England?" You leaned on your fist, eager for the answer.

He shook his head. "I'm just homesick, I guess." He then stood up and took his plate to the dishwasher.

"Do you want to talk about it?" You shouted into the kitchen.

You awaited an answer from the other side of the wall. You heard the dishwasher shut and his feet pad across the wooden floor, he stopped in the archway, facing you. With certainty, he said, "I'm happy here."

You stayed seated. "Would you want to move back?"

He looked unsure but answered, "I don't think so."

"You can be honest," you assured him. "If you think I'm worried or going to shoot it down. I mean, I'm not saying yes, but if you're thinking about it I think we should talk about it."

He shook his head. "I'm not saying I want to be here forever and maybe that's something we should talk about since..."

"Since?" You questioned, clueless of where his words were leading.

Alex laughed at you, turning away, not bearing to make eye contact. "Since we're us. You and me."

"I'm confused," you said, crossing your brows. "What's this have to do with England?"

He laughed again, nerves tackling him. "We're not just fooling around here anymore. This direction..." He motioned a straight line and though you were catching on you still wished to hear him talk in full.

"This direction?"

He rolled his eyes with a smile, exasperated by your questioning. "Look, we've talked about it."

You playfully raised an eyebrow. "It?"

He wagged his finger at you. "Quit playing games with me here."

"Oh," you nodded enthusiastically, "the marrying me thing. You talk around it like it's a curse word."

"'Cause it makes me nervous." He played with the ends of his hair as a soothing mechanism. 

You shifted forward, leaning your head onto your hand, resting it on your knee. You genuinely asked, "Why does it make you nervous?"

A nervous smile played at his lips as he calmly said, "Why the fuck do you think?" He laughed, feeling overwhelmed, both of you.

"You tell me," you egged him on.

Alex threw his head back, exhausted from you toying him. "You do the laundry. I know you've been in my underwear drawer."

You giggled, remembering the sight. "Well, you put it in your underwear drawer, how cliche are you?"

"At least I didn't do my sock drawer!" He shouted, trying to insist he wasn't such an idiot. "I didn't think you'd go digging around in there."

"Hey!" You assert. "I didn't find it. It found me."

You both laughed and soon the room fell quiet. "Hey," you said. "You got me a princess cut." It was dainty like you wanted, no giant diamonds, and no uncomfortability. A simple, classic look. He did good.

He kept a small smile, despite both of your racing hearts. "Well, that's what you wanted."

You grinned back, sitting up straight, and leaning your side into the back of the dining room chair. "You got my ring size right too."

He raised his eyebrows. "You put it on?"

"On my right hand that way I didn't break any rules."

Smiles were plastered on each of your faces. "Should I just go get it?" You'll probably cry if he does go get it.

"Yes. And yes to your next question too."

"I haven't even gotten down on one knee."

You shook your head. "You don't have to get down on one knee."

"I want to." He does. And the ring fits just as well on the left as it did on the right.

Just like moving in, being engaged isn't that much different either with the exception of getting your mother off your back and a nice new piece of jewelry. Alex enjoyed calling you "fiancée" when introducing you.

You started to go out less but when he did he came more often. It was a non-verbal comparison and with a new album on the horizon, you started to stockpile time together. Any wedding talk was limited but agreed upon to take place after the tour so you could enjoy married life together. Alex also heavily enjoyed the in-between state of being engaged and what you thought would be the dull before the actual excitement of marriage, turned into its own new game.

You accompanied him more on tour, mostly because it was much longer this time. You joined him for branches, attended the US shows, made him shave his head in Texas, and made your way over to London. There were bigger breaks this time with things not packed so closely together. You spent Christmas in Iowa with Alex for the first time. You went to Hawaii for his birthday. You went bowling for Valentine's Day.

When the tour ended and there was an actual wedding to plan, everything felt stuck. It was either too cliche or too underwhelming. It became easier to just get married and worry more about planning a party. So, you got married at a cute small inn with sycamore trees with a small number of guests. Those who would be willing to sit through a wedding without getting antsy.

The reception party grew in numbers and the loveliest part is you didn't have to worry about cleaning any of the mess up. Alex got cake on his suit and you went to the bathroom more times than you can count. But overall, it was a simple, sweet night. 

Honeymooning (fucking) in Fiji and then resuming life two weeks later. "Wife" became Alex's new favourite word but everything else stayed the same. Well, for about a month.

You just had a feeling. You woke up one day and felt it. You nudged him awake, it was early before the sun was up. "Alex."

He hummed in acknowledgment, shut-eyed.

You burrowed into him and nonchalantly said, "I'm pregnant."

"What?!" His eyes were wide and his face wrinkled in confusion. "Seriously? When did you find out?"

You flopped onto your back, turning your head to the side to look at him. "Just now. I can feel it."

"So, you feel like you're pregnant?" He questioned.

"Yeah."

"But you don't know it. You didn't take a test?"

"No, but I know. I'll take one in the morning, I just wanted to let you know. Night." You turned over into your pillow and closed your eyes.

Alex sat with his mouth agape. "Yeah. Night." He didn't fall back asleep.

And you were right. You shrugged and said, "Told ya." Alex laughed. Then, he cried. Then, he hugged you. Then, he kissed your stomach, but you thought that was too weird so you told him to stop.

Being pregnant definitely changed things but things felt the same just with one more thing. You fucked. A lot. Your sexual appetite increased but you had always been horny for Alex. It's just a given. But there was a point where things did change.

It was the first ultrasound. You felt it when you entered the room. The air was cold and there was a shift, everything suddenly becoming real. You enjoyed watching Alex twiddle his thumbs while you waited for the technician. 

When they started to move the wand around your stomach, he became fascinated with the machine, continuously asking questions. More of them were about the machine rather than the baby. 

And, well, then the whole twin thing happened.

"Like two of them?" Alex held two fingers up like he couldn't quite comprehend it. 

The technician nodded and you still couldn't think of a verbal response to the news.

Then, Alex said, "We've been having a lot of sex, did we like make another baby when we—"

You interrupted, "Are you the dumbest person alive?"

Alex pinned the ultrasound to your fridge and kept a copy in his wallet. He held an affection for it that you didn't. Maybe because you were the pregnant one. The proof came attached to you. Nonetheless, you were charmed by Alex in his fatherly role, even if he stressed you out with the need to be super-ultra-prepared. His nervousness about what you could and couldn't do got annoying by the second month. He calmed down after you yelled at him.

Although, it was nice for him to take on the extra work. You picked out the design for the nursery and he did all the work, citing that you couldn't paint because of the toxic fumes and everything was a heavy load.

He knew you were full of bullshit but he didn't care. "I like helping out. Being the man in charge."

You told him not to get too full of himself. His insistence on doing everything led him to break his index finger.

But after everything had healed and two babies became two girls, you both relaxed into your final months of solitude, which really just meant lots of sex. You fucked and he went down on you but sometimes you felt too sore down there from all the pelvic pressure and though Alex insisted that no sex was fine, you insisted that release was release, even if it wasn't your release. Alex still fondled your breasts too, saying that's where all his horniness came from.

"How can I not be turned on when they're just staring at me?" They were bigger and Alex was always insatiable.

"I feel like a cow," you whined. You were bigger with two babies and the only way you did have sex was doggy style with everything hanging.

"You're not a cow," Alex said, climbing into bed. You were under the sheets, exhausted at 9 PM. He curled up behind you, whispering in your ear, "You want me to fuck you on your side?"

You thought about it, felt the ache, and said, "Okay."

You were already underwear-free because they hurt your vagina too much when you slept. You had returned to your old days of quickness. Alex pulled himself out of his boxers, gave himself a few pumps, and slid into you. You softly moaned as Alex pushed into you slowly at first before his thrusts grew quicker. He knew you were tired and needed a quick release. 

"Fuck," he harshly whispered as his speed picked up, skins slapped, and sweat beads formed. He clutched your hipbone tightly and you fisted your pillowcase. Every action rushed and a final slam resulted in you falling apart and him emptying into you. His hand caressed up your bump and you knew he was very turned on but the whole pregnancy sex things and not just because of the boobs. However, he did love those too, and gave them a quick squeeze before cleaning up.

The final change came in an expected way. Labour was shorter if only for the epidural and the C-section. You wanted to resist the idea until the thought of pushing two babies out set in and the pain became too unbearable and Twin A was breached and then a C-section seemed like the best thing, even if it was surgery.

Alex liked wearing the medical gear and kept adjusting his mask. Oh, Alex, sweet naive Alex. Luckily, everything was smooth, except for the fact you couldn't hold the babies until they had sewn everything up. But Alex cut the umbilical cord and got to hold them, which was a sweet enough sight.

When you were placed in recovery and finally got to hold them, then came the hard part. "What do we name them?" You asked.

Alex shook his head. "I got no fucking idea." Names had been discussed but you never really landed on one let alone two. "You should name them. You carried them and they're getting my last name."

"It's too much pressure," you whined.

Alex sighed and concluded, "Thing 1 and Thing 2 it is then."

Eventually, you decided on Wren and Willow. You initially hated the shared first initial but Alex liked it and it became too frustrating to think of any other names.

The first month was harsh. Your body was slowly healing and you ached all the time. You had backup with both sets of parents but then everyone went back home and everything shut down and it was just you, Alex, and Wren & Willow. It didn't actually feel like much had changed. It's not like you would have left the house anyway.

Alex takes to having the girls nap on him. Sometimes one at a time, sometimes both. Sometimes he will let you nap in his arms too. The days are long but the weeks move fast.

One day, Willow laughs. It's the first time either of them has laughed. It took you both by surprise. You were feeding Wren while Willow laid on her back with Alex loomed over her. Usually, when he would blow raspberries on her stomach she would just gurgle and flap her arms and legs around, but this time she laughed, and it’s the loudest sound you've ever heard.

Alex looked down at her, completely engaged, not bearing to take his eyes off, scared to miss the sight. It gets him laughing too with tears in his throat. He leaned down again and blew more air against her tummy. She shrieks this time, giggling, and you want to capture the sound forever. Run and have Alex record it.

But you looked down at Wren and rubbed your finger against her tiny baby cheek, deciding that there was no need to move from this comfort.

They aren't easy babies. There are two of them too. They both wake each other up, which means both you and Alex have to get up because it's 2 v. 2 and they're small but mighty. They eventually get on a sleep schedule and a routine and trade-off between you and Alex is set into place.

By the end of the year, it's the new normal and you don't remember a time when they weren't around. You want to be with them all the time just like you want to be with Alex all the time.

They're great. But then they wake you up at 3 AM.

*

a/n: so...this slowly became a prequel to my dad!al fic and i decided to just finish it that way. i also have not read through it because i'm tired so any mistakes you did not see.

[doctor-dusk]

𝐜𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐭𝐛𝐞𝐚𝐭, 𝐫𝐚𝐩𝐢𝐝 𝐟𝐢𝐫𝐞 | 𝐚𝐥𝐞𝐱 𝐭.

he showed you that movie theaters were not made exclusively for watching movies.

warnings: smut, oral (f receiving), piv, public sex. can't remember any more warnings beside these ones.

word count: 7.6k

series masterlist

ffs 7.6k words i'm gobsmacked- i ended up getting too excited, but uuuugh, i loved writing this part. i hope you like it :3

of course you accepted. 

however, as much as you wanted to see him, you were hesitant. you had never seen him other than via video call, and you were somewhat paranoid about people you met on the internet. so, you two agreed to meet at a movie theater, which was usually full and where you felt safe for a first date.

it was saturday night and you told your parents that you were going to the movies with your best friend. well, if you were paranoid, your parents were much worse than you. you couldn't simply throw them a ‘i'm going out with a guy i met online’.

but to be on the safe side and to maintain your own safety, you notified your best friend, giving her the address of the movie theater and saying that if you weren't home by midnight, she should call the police.

you were very nervous, of course. numerous scenarios running through your head. possibilities of everything going very right or very wrong. but you were already there. 

leaning against the cold wall outside the movie theater, watching the little movement on the street. usually on the date of a film's premiere, the frenzy is imminent. lines of cars on all sides of the avenue and more queues to buy tickets and get in the rooms. but now, it's calm. so calm.

you looked at your phone, checking the time. you scheduled it for 8pm, there were exactly 7 minutes left. you were too anxious, at 5pm you were already taking your shower and at 6:40pm you were ready. but you made sure to dress up well for the occasion. you could already expect the shower of compliments he might give you, like “oh, i love your dress. take a little spin for me” or “you smell so good”. something that would be very “alex” to say.

your cell phone vibrated, indicating that a message had arrived. in a rush, you rummaged through your purse, thinking it was a message from him.

“did he arrive?” you let your eyebrows fall when you saw it was a message from your best friend.

“not yet.” you answered, trying to sound optimistic. there is still time, he could arrive at any moment. your stomach was churning with anxiety, you resisted the urge to bite your freshly painted wine nails.

she didn't say anything else and neither did you, closing your hand around your phone and supporting your body weight on your other leg while you placed one hand on your waist.

you looked around once more, taking a few steps ahead, not having a right direction to go. you're bored. distracted. nervous. anxious. like you’re going to explode like a dynamite. you needed to relax your mind a little. 

you took a few steps closer to the parking lot, seeing how empty it was. you could count 8 cars there and 3 motorcycles. better, 4 motorcycles, since one was just arriving through the adjacent entrance. 

your eyes followed that motorcycle until it stopped, parking in the reserved space. it wasn't that dark despite some broken light bulbs in the parking lot, but you could recognize that the model of the bike was a kawasaki. maybe a W800. not that you're an expert, but do you remember that your uncle had a motorcycle just like that. he said he loved the motorcycle more than his own wife. isn't it surprising that they have divorced.

back to what you're seeing, the motorcyclist got off after placing the motorcycle's foot on the ground, securing it so that the motorcycle remained upright and without any risk of falling. the black leather jacket hugged his body just right, the dark jeans didn't seem to be that tight on his lower body, just accentuating the curves of his thighs. and wow, what an ass. 

his back was turned the whole time. he carefully removed his helmet, combing his hair back, but he didn't seem satisfied with the result when he looked at his own reflection in a car window. so, he pulled out a small comb that was in his back pocket, combing his hair back until he thought it looked presentable enough, slicked back to the last hair.

he put the comb inside his pocket and pulled out his phone from the front pocket. your heart raced. coud be him?

your phone vibrated in your hand. you looked at the screen, a message from alex popped on your screen.

‘’i’m here.’’

you froze in place, like your feet were glued on the floor. you looked back at the exact moment he turned around.

yeah, it was him.

fuck, fuck, fuck. it was him.

alex was more intimidating in person. not in a bad way, though. 

he wasn't that tall. but well, you didn't expect him to be as tall as a lamppost either. he was tall enough to make you stand on your tiptoes if you wanted to kiss him. pale skin under the streetlights, dark hair slicked back and covered in hair gel that made the shiny strands stay in place. it suited him well, although you were used to seeing him with a bit more unruly hair. but it matched his thin face, vibrant ebony eyes, thin, slightly pursed mouth. and oh, of course... the nose. the fucking charming nose. better in person. so much better.

‘’hello you.’’ he greeted you as soon as his eyes met your figure not so far from him. ‘’hope i didn't make you wait too long.’’

‘’you're here.’’ you said almost in a whisper while you put your cell phone back in your purse. you're acting a bit awkwardly, but you couldn't help it.

‘’guess i am.’’ he chuckled, standing in front of you, not knowing exactly how to greet you. he didn't want to admit that he was also nervous to see you. ‘’can i hug you?’’

‘’y-yes, of course.’’ you chuckled, watching him bend down just a little so he could hug you properly, wrapping his arms around your waist, hugging you tight. you wrapped your arms around his neck, really sure that you would need to stand on your tiptoes if you wanted to be at his height.

‘’mhm, there we go. you smell so good.’’ he muttered, running his nose over your shoulder, not touching your neck. he didn't want to sound so invasive.

funny, because you've done so much over video call. and now you're here, acting awkwardly like two teenagers.

you smiled weakly. you already expected this compliment, yet you’re giggling internally. ‘‘do you like it?’’ you asked, not failing to notice that he also smelled good. something woody, accentuating the masculinity he exuded along with the freshness of the hair gel.

‘’yeah. all for me?’’ he said, taking one last deep breath before breaking the hug, letting you return to your normal posture. you chuckled, seeing him gesture with his finger for you to take a little turn. very shyly, you did so, eliciting a low whistle from him. ‘’hell, you're even better in person, i'm feeling spoiled already.’’

‘’i have to impress you, don't i?’’ you raised both eyebrows, your palms sweating as you clenched your hands against the strap of your purse.

‘’nah, that's my job. gotta impress you even more now.’’ he chuckled, putting his arm around your shoulder so you could head towards the entrance of the movie theater.

you looked over your shoulder, taking a look at the motorcycle. ‘’is that yours?’’ you pointed curiously.

‘’yep. all mine. did you like it?’’ he asked, following your gaze to the parked motorcycle. you nodded. ‘’good. i'll show you better later. if you want, i can even teach you how to drive it.’’

‘’oh, please, don't give me any ideas.’’ you chuckled, already picturing him teaching you everything, telling you the name of each component of the motorcycle, how to accelerate, or how to change gears. you could already see his big hands guiding yours on the motorcycle's handlebars.

‘’don't worry love, you'll be fine, i’ll show you everything you need to know.’’ he said, giving you a gentle squeeze on the shoulder. ‘’so... do you know which movie you want to see?’’

you took a quick look at the catalog, seeing which movies were showing. none of them interested you visually speaking. you looked back at him. you didn't even need to say anything. after all, he wasn't interested in any movie either. deep down, you both knew that the movie would just be an excuse.

‘’it's ok. let's see this one.’’ he pointed to a random one, you didn't even have time to read the title because he was already holding your hand to go to the ticket office. there was no queue at all, so you didn't have to worry about that. ‘’good evening. i'll take two tickets for that movie over there.’’ he said to the clerk, who had a bored look on his face while he was fiddling with his cell phone.

you were already opening your purse to get your wallet when alex glanced at you, frowning immediately.

‘’what are you doing?’’ he asked, holding your wrist, making you stop and look at him.

‘’i'm going to…’’ you pointed to the ticket office. ‘’pay for my ticket.’’

he looked at you, almost dumbfounded. then, he laughed softly, shaking his head.

‘’none of that. leave it to me.’’ he said. you felt kind of stupid because he acted and said it like it was something unacceptable.

‘’alex, i'm used to paying for my ticket, it's ok…’’ you told him, not really caring, but he shook his head again. well, if you were stubborn, he made sure to be worse than you.

‘’used to it? damn, did those blokes made you pay for your ticket?’’ he asked, genuinely concerned, taking his wallet out of his front pocket.

you didn't answer. there was no need to answer since he was right. you had already lost count of how many bad dates you had been on and how many times you had had to pay for your ticket. it was ridiculous to think about it sometimes.

his frown softened as did his voice. ‘’not with me, hm? now be good and sit over there while i finish up here.’’ he said, letting go of your wrist and pointing to one of the cushioned chairs in the hall. ‘’do you want popcorn? soda?’’

‘’no, i'm good.’’ you answered.

‘’mints?’’ he pointed to the glass candy display. you nodded softly, deciding to accept at least a mint gum. you were already feeling weird enough for letting him pay for your ticket. it was unusual for you.

you made your way to one of the chairs, sitting there, crossing your leg while your purse rested on your lap. your phone vibrated again, and you already knew who it was.

‘’should i call the police?’’ your friend's message made you laugh softly, your fingers typing the reply quickly.

‘’you should call the fireman. god, you have no idea how hot he is.’’

she sent you a bunch of emojis, asking for more details. of course you could tell her enough, but not everything. and you wouldn't do it now.

you heard a whistle, seeing that alex was waiting for you with the two tickets in his hand. you stood up, putting your phone away and going to him. ‘’he said that the next session starts in ten minutes, we can get in there if we want.’’ he said, handing you the package with mints.

‘’good, we can find a good place to sit then.’’ you said, holding the packet of mints in your hand, not wanting to open it for now.

alex guided the way, his hand always holding yours as you made your way down the dark hallway to the dimly lit room, the large white screen seemed to hover over you as you climbed the carpeted stairs, being careful not to trip. he scanned the place, not that it was very crowded, just a few people spread out in different places in the seats. he wanted a spot that he knew no one would pay attention to you.

‘’there. sounds great?’’ he pointed to a spot in the first few chairs, right at the top. you nodded, following him until you reached the seats, he let you go first to sit in the chair on the left while he sat to your left. ‘’it's a good spot, hm?’’ he commented to you, taking a look from his point of view, seeing that it was hard for anyone to notice you there. you were sitting almost under the projector, so probably not even the projectionist would be able to see you there.

‘’mhmm, really good.’’ you said, opening the package of mints, putting one in your mouth, feeling the freshness invade your mouth almost instantly. ‘’want one?’’ you asked, handing the package to him.

he alternated his gaze between you and the package, your expecting eyes on him the whole time.

‘’yeah, but... i don't want any of those.’’ he answered and you already felt your throat close up a little. ‘’i want yours. can i have it?’’

fuck, that's it. it's your chance. don't fuck it up.

‘’yeah.’’ you answered, glancing at his arm passing over your shoulder. your stomach seemed to tie a double knot, your heart was beating so fast it felt like you were going to have a heart attack at any moment.

before your eyes could register, his lips touched yours tenderly, savoring the first contact as much as possible, like touching the grass after a rain on a calm afternoon, the smell of wet soil invading your lungs with force while you felt like a flower blooming on the first day of spring.

he was calm, but intense. you couldn't explain it, you could only feel every sensation he brought you with that simple kiss as he tried to taste your mouth when the tip of his tongue passed over your bottom lip. you let out a sigh you didn't even know you were holding when the kiss deepened, he explored the confines of your mouth as much as he could, swirling his tongue around yours, the mint candy passing from one mouth to the other in an almost frantic manner. his hand tightened on your shoulder, bringing you closer. you didn't even know what to do with your hands, keeping them gripping the arm of the seat.

you broke the kiss when you were forced to take a breath, panting softly, the candy had disappeared from your mouth, leaving only the slight burn of mint on your taste buds. but still, the taste of his kiss prevailed.

‘’wow.’’ he was the first to break the silence, running his thumb over your bottom lip, cleaning the trace of saliva from there. ‘’i think i accidentally swallowed the candy.’’

you chuckled, not really caring about it, your mind in a spiral, his kiss fresh on your lips like fresh paint. ‘’there's more here if you want it.’’ you replied, watching him shake his head slightly, his eyes drinking in your almost silhouette in the low light of the movie theater, he heard murmurs around, but nothing that took his attention away from you.

‘’maybe later, love. it was just an excuse for me to be able to kiss you.’’ he whispered, pecking your lips, making you practically beg for more as you tilted your head towards him, searching for his lips like a magnet. he let out a small chuckle. ‘’did you like it that much?’’

‘’you're a good kisser.’’ you admitted quietly. he really was a good kisser. you didn't know if it was because of your bad kissing history, but you also didn't want to burn your neurons thinking about it. you wanted his kiss again. and again. and again.

and he would be more than happy to give it to you.

he kissed you again, his lips searching for the perfect rhythm, still trying to fit together as precisely as a jigsaw puzzle. his breathing was heavy, the air exhaled through his nose and hit your cheek, the texture of his wet lips against yours brought you the feeling of being completely ecstatic as he moved his tongue, as if he was inviting yours to a slow dance.

his right hand passed over yours, his thumb lightly caressing your knuckles and fingers, sliding over the silver ring you had on your middle finger. you sighed softly when the hand that was on top of yours rested on your bare knee. before you could break the kiss again due to lack of air, a loud noise echoed through the speakers spread throughout the movie theater, startling both of you. oh, damn trailers.

‘’you good?’’ he asked, merely amused that you were startled by it, both of his hands rubbing your shoulder and knee simultaneously.

‘’yeah, just... unexpected.’’ you chuckled, feeling his lips pressing a small kiss on your forehead, giving you time to recover and maybe get in the mood again as the trailers played on the huge screen.

you felt comfortable enough to lay your head on his shoulder, the strands of your hair tickling his nose as he turned his face to place a tender kiss on the top of your head, his lips lingering there for a moment, inhaling the scent of your shampoo on your soft locks, almost burying his face there.

‘’i love how you smell. really.’’ he said softly, as if he was admitting more to himself than to you. he couldn't help it, as if everything inside him was succumbing to you. he didn't expect this on a first date, but he wasn't trying hard to stop it either.

‘’hm?’’ you asked, moving your head so you could look at him, waiting for him to repeat himself because you really hadn't heard, the sound of the voices from the movie forced him to speak louder or get closer to your ear.

but he didn't answer you. he kissed you instead, feeling the sweetness of your lips pressed against his. this almost made him groan, his desire increasing with each caress exchanged, with each miserable sigh you let out. the hand that was on your knee went up to your thigh, feeling more precisely how soft your skin was. the feeling stretched the smile on his lips.

‘’just the way i imagined. god, you have no idea how much i wanted to touch you like this. how much i craved this...’’ he whispered between your lips, feeling your warm breath hitting his lips. you were already numb, if you weren't sitting down, you were definitely on the floor, your senses seemed to be reduced to dust at this moment. ‘’so soft…’’ he whispered again, sinking his fingers into the warm flesh of your thigh, threatening to advance under your dress.

‘’alex…’’ you whispered back, your voice a mix of desire and nervousness. and as always, he knew it.

‘’is it okay if i touch you?’’ he asked, his head tilted back so he could look you in the eyes, seeking the assurance that it would be okay if he continued. you nodded, your desire speaking louder than any other insecurity or fear. you mentally thanked yourself for having shaved during the shower. not that you were expecting it, but... well, you were.

he kept his face close to yours, watching every single expression as his hand inched closer, your heat radiating more and more as you bit your lip in anticipation and excitement. he palmed your core, raising his eyebrows in a slight surprise.

‘’fuck, baby. soaked already. i didn't even do anything.’’ he let out in a sly tone, his fingers collecting your wetness over your panties, almost making you whine. he was delicate, he wanted to discover everything about you little by little, despite having already seen your cunt on video call. but it was different in person.

he teased you over the thin and wet material, almost feeling your folds molding in the panties, sticking and soaking even more when he found your clit, the bud marking the spot for being so swollen and needy.

instantly, it was like a switch had turned in his head. he didn't want to touch you anymore. he wanted to taste you. eat you. devour you.

you watched as he got on his knees on the carpeted floor, crawling that narrow and tight hallway just to stand in front of you. you widen your eyes a bit, getting a little alarmed by the idea.

‘’what are you going to do?’’

‘’gonna eat you out, babe. no one will see me, i promise. only you.’’ he answered, his hands going to your knees, looking up at you. your face was lit only by the movie screen, the flashes illuminating your insecure expressions more and more. ‘’need to taste you, please.’’

please. again.

your hands itched. you wanted this so much, so much. but you were also scared, a huge impasse. a voice in your head told you to go and another told you not to go. but oh, those big puppy eyes looking up at you was your undoing.

‘’okay.’’ you agreed, lifting your hips so he could take off your panties, each act increased the flow of adrenaline running through your veins, your body heated up as well as the rest of your organism as he held your knees, spreading your legs for him.

he held your panties, his fist closing around the lace, feeling the gluey wetness against his palm, making his cock twitch inside his jeans. he was hungry. so hungry for you.

‘’closer.’’ he urged, pulling your hips, leaving your ass almost off the chair, your body in a position almost lying on the armchair, your eyes wandering around before returning to him, his breath creeping up on your thigh. ‘’that's it, baby. you okay?’’ he asked, wanting one last confirmation that everything was okay with you before he continued.

‘’mhm... taste me, al. please.’’ you whispered to him, lust filled eyes looking down at him in a silent plea.

and nothing else was needed. no words, no encouragement. it was like the starting gun for alex to just bury his face between your legs, his greedy tongue sliding along your vulva, from bottom to top, collecting your juices. it was like he was tasting a drink for the first time. but it wasn't like he was eating pussy for the first time. but it was your pussy. it was different. he didn't know exactly what it was, but it was different, it made him want to get drunk, to drown in your ocean.

‘’my god, so fucking good…’’ he mumbled against your folds, moving his lips up to suck your clit, sucking so hard that you closed your legs around his head with equal force, your hands gripped the armrest of the seats until the blood stopped circulating in your hands, turning it white. “sorry, did i hurt you?” he paused, looking up at you.

“n-no, you were just... hasty.” you replied after blinking a few times, loosening the grip of your legs around his head, feeling the soft touch of his hands on your inner thighs, pushing your legs apart again, keeping his hands there to hold you in case you close them again.

“sorry. gonna take it slow for you, honey.” he apologized, feeling a little guilty for having done that on the first contact. 

but it was a little difficult for him to control himself. since he saw you last time, he had lost count of how many times he fucked his own fist imagining himself like that, rubbing his face in your pussy, sucking, licking, biting, touching every single inch of that area. it was like a personal achievement.

now, he knew he needed to take it slow. he wanted to make it good for you, to make you whimper his name and reduce you to a mess in that seat. he looked up at you, taking the sight of your scrunched face, your eyes leaving his to look around, making sure no one was looking. 

god, he had such a good tongue. you were already sure of that when he kissed you, but you really weren't expecting it to be even better as he lapped your folds calmly, but with that hint of hunger deep down. he mumbled something that you didn't even hear or try to understand, your head falling back slightly, your saliva running down your throat with difficulty. then, he tapped your thigh, catching your attention.

“can you do me a favor, love?” he asked, taking a breath that he didn't even know he needed, his lips were already starting to get swollen. “give me a mint.” he pointed to the package next to you. you looked back at him, deciphering what he was thinking of doing. “you'll like it, trust me.”

and you trusted him.

you took a candy from the package carefully, the green tiny ball stayed in the palm of your hand until you brought it to your mouth. he hummed in gratitude, feeling the freshness mixing with the taste of your pussy on his tongue. 

you felt your heart pounding against your chest, your face boiling red. he was no different, and for him it was a little worse, because he already felt that familiar feeling in the lower region, his jeans getting tighter at every moment. he wanted to release, he needed it. but he wanted to take care of you first.

his tongue meets your meaty slimy folds once again, you gasped when you felt it burn a little, but not in a bad way. it was a cooling burn, like an ice cube sliding up and down your pussy, making the mint press on your clit while he slobbered on your cunt like a starving man.

“good?” he muttered to you, looking up. you were a mess, shaking and squirming at his ministrations. 

“s-so good, please… more.” you babbled as he gave a smirk at your answer. his thumb moved to press on your clit, feeling it pulsing, craving, almost screaming his name. 

“i'm gonna ruin it.” you whispered, afraid that you would mess up his perfectly slicked back hair.

“gonna give you more, baby. your pussy is so delicious, holy shit.” his filthy mouth only sent shivers down your spine, the freshness and the eager way he eats you out made you see stars before your eyes, little twinkling dots as you felt a knot forming at the pit of your belly. you trembled, your hands gripping the arms of the seat, needing to ground yourself. “my hair, sweetie. you can grab it.” he hummed, holding your wrists, bringing your hands to his hair, the hair gel felt cool in your palms.

“i don't fucking care. make a mess, babe.” his voice sounded almost harsh as his hands returned to your plushy thighs, his sloppy tongue moving across your labia and clit, making your cunt pulse in an overwhelming rhythm.

it all seemed too much for you. the adrenaline, the hunger, the filthy words infesting your mind. your eyes rolled back as you gripped his greasy hair, a few strands falling down his sweaty forehead. you couldn't hold on for any longer.

“al, 'm gonna cum…” you choked as your hips bucked, almost like you're trying to run away from his mouth.

“fuck yes, come on my mouth, please, please…” he grunted, your words settling in his mind like a command. he grabbed your hips roughly, keeping you in place, his rolling tongue snaking through your folds and teasing your gaping entrance before your entire body shook, your back arching in the chair in an erotic way as your thighs clamped shut as you trembled, milking on his tongue.

you gasped for air, your fingers still clenching in his hair as he drank every last drop of your release, sucking it all in like he was a vacuum cleaner until he lifted his head again, his mouth coated and glistening, totally covered in you.

“fuck, i can't explain…” he breathed out. he almost came in his pants at that, as embarrassing as it was for him to admit. he wouldn't even dare palm himself now, any touch now would be dangerous and he would have a lot of work to clean it up later. “so fucking good, i swear. god, it was better than i imagined.”

you let out a breathless laugh, taking the sight of him on his knees, his forehead resting on your knee for a second as he caught his breath.

“i need to fuck you.”

a fierce blush spread over your cheeks at his words. you were never the type of person to have sex on the first date. but no, you weren't going to deny it. not when you wanted it as much as he did. not when he was different.

“and i need you to fuck me.”

the movie theater was behind you as your hurried footsteps made your way outside. your heart was beating as fast as your steps, you were even walking faster than him, his hand holding yours while the other hand still held your panties inside his closed fist. yeah, you didn't even bother to put it on. it’s not like you're going to need it now.

“motel?” he asked you. you shook your head. your adventurous spirit was at its peak now, and besides... you trusted him, but not enough to let him take you to a motel. 

“no, i was thinking about…” you said, stopping when you got close to his motorcycle. at this point, it was the only motorcycle parked there, and there were only three other cars there, all considerably far from where you were. 

“here?” he asked you, raising his eyebrows. he looked around. it was a quiet spot. it wasn't as well lit as the rest of that almost deserted parking lot. ‘’on my bike?’’ he asked again as he saw you leaning to support your weight a little on the leather seat. you swallowed a little, not knowing if he thought it was a good idea. or if he wouldn't like it.

‘’we don't have to…’’

‘’i want to.’’ alex approached you, putting his helmet on the ground near the front wheel of the bike and you did the same with your purse. he caged you between his body and the motorcycle, his arms on either side of your body, the heat of his body transmitting to yours. ‘’i just think you deserve to be fucked in a bed.’’

again, his words seemed to light a flame inside you. ‘’we can leave it for next time. i really like your bike.’’ you giggled, feeling his nose touching your cheek as he kissed your jaw. he smiled against your skin. you’re already thinking about the next time.

‘’course you did, huh? alright then. gonna fuck you from behind, what do you think?’’ he suggested, making you spin on your heels, your lower belly touching the leather seat, feeling his hard cock almost poking your ass if it weren't for the layers of clothes getting in the way. you could feel how thick he is. just like in the photos and videos.

alex didn't want to waste time. he handed you your panties so you could hold them yourself, soon having his hands free to unbuckle his belt and lower the zipper of his jeans, putting his hand inside his boxers to take out his pulsing and aching length of that tightness that felt like a prison.

he pumped his cock a few times while his other hand was lost inside his pants pocket, taking his wallet to take out a condom from inside.

‘’i can't see a damn thing.’’ he complained softly, searching for the foil package in the compartments of his wallet, finally finding it after a thorough search, ripping the packaging with his teeth and rolling it on his cock. ‘’you good?'' he asked, kissing your bare shoulder, his body molding against yours like a lego piece fitting together.

‘’mhmm, can't wait…’’ you nodded eagerly, bending your body a bit more on the motorcycle, feeling him lift the hem of your dress a bit, almost twisting the fabric as he closed his fist against it to keep it above your tailbone.

‘’such a greedy girl, huh? all shy when you saw me and now you're practically begging me to fuck you on top of my motorcycle.’’ he teased you, sliding his already condom-covered cock through your sticky folds before lining his fat tip at your entrance. ‘’are you a virgin?’’

‘’no.’’ you answered without having to think much.

‘’good.’’ he replied. not that he would have a problem if you were, but he felt like he would have to be a lot more careful. and that it should preferably be in a bed and not on top of a motorcycle.

god, you both were on fire. all the video calls, all the times he masturbated in front of the camera for you, all the nights he daydreamed about you, none of it came close to this moment. he have you, all of you, including your pussy, all to himself so he could fuck you senseless.

his tip slowly nudged and stretched you, an almost pathetic moan dared to escape your lips as you balanced yourself, letting your weight fall on the bike. he almost let a whine escape as he felt the warmth of your pussy. god, he couldn't even measure how much he wanted this, how much he had desired this since the moment he saw you.

‘’ready?’’ he asked one last time, his breath threatening to fail, his cock was already aligned, he just needed to push, your pussy was so wet from your own wetness and his spit from earlier.

‘’please…’’ you whined, looking at him over your shoulder, feeling his hand go to your waist to squeeze and bring some stability to him.

so, he didn't hold back. alex tortuously stretched your cunt as he began thrusting deliciously slowly, his bulky cock pushing past your tight gummy walls until he bottomed out.

‘’fuck.’’ he said between gritted teeth at the feeling of your pussy already clenching around him, so tightly that it was almost hard to move. ‘’sure you’re not a virgin? so fucking tight.’’

you could chuckle at his words if you weren’t trying to get used to him. ‘’you're the one who's too much for me.’’ you replied. you weren't used to this. when you saw his cock on the screen of your laptop, you knew it was big, but you didn't know you'd have to work to accommodate it, you didn't know he'd stretch you so much.

‘’easy, baby. let me in.’’ he coaxed you. ‘’shit, you're so…’’ he grunted again, swallowing thickly. he didn't know if it was because he was really horny for that moment or if it was because you were really tight. maybe both.

your hands gripped the leather of the seat, your palms sweating more as you tried to relax for him, letting alex pump his cock in and out of you, your cunt swallowing and sucking him up, almost trapping him inside you.

‘’yeah, just like this, doing so good, let me fuck you good, hm?’’ he whispered in your ear, kissing your earlobe, starting to thrust at a gradually increasing pace. he released your dress, bringing his hand to your cheek, pinching it slightly, making your skin flush where he pinched.

‘’fuck, you feel so good, so thick…’’ you gasped, your eyes getting glassy because while it felt good, it was also too much for you. he smiled cockily at your praise, holding your chin with his thumb and index finger, making you turn your face so you could look at him.

‘’yeah, baby? do you like my cock? it's so much better in person, hm? you're sucking him whole already.’’ he mumbled, pounding into your pussy with purpose. your eyes closed shut, an almost pornographic moan escaping your lips.

alex could scold you not to moan so loud because they were in public, but fuck, he liked it. he loved watching you practically cry while he fucked you dumb like he hated you. he loved praise you. and you loved being praised. not by anyone, but by him.

this was definitely the most intense, rough and nasty sex you had ever experienced. and you didn't know how much you loved it until you felt his cock filling your warm and wet cunt, you didn't know if the squeaking sound was because of the bike rocking to your rhythm or if it was your pussy that was so wet it was starting to squish.

you whimpered when his hand wrapped around your throat, the cold metal of his ring pressed right into your windpipe making you want to cough amidst your moans. his belt buckle hit your thigh, the tingling sound echoing through your ears as he thrusted hard into you, your greedy pussy was already creaming him to the brim, his abs tensed with the familiar feeling of an approaching climax.

you started to feel that pressure building right below your belly button, your knees threatening to fail, and his grip tightened on your waist, keeping you up. alex angled his hips, hitting your spot right on target, making you mewl, closing your eyes shut. he watched your face, knowing he had hit it. so he did it again. and again. and again.

‘’gonna cum for me again?’’ he asked with a satisfied smile on his lips, seeing you nodding immediately. ‘’yeah?’’' and he hitted that spot again, rolling his hips, the soft skin of your ass slapping against his pelvis, you could feel that region of him more assertively, feeling that the area had been trimmed. no pubic hair. at least not now on this first date.

‘’gonna cum for you, al, i'm gonna-’’ you stammered, almost letting a bit of saliva escape your mouth. you were so fucked up in a literal way, you could barely remember where you were and what day it was.

you clenched hard around his cock, almost making him stop. he let out a whimper. oh god, a whimper. you've heard him moan before, but they were rough, throaty moans. it was a whimper, a plea, a sign that he was getting sensitive and that he would cum at any moment, just waiting for you.

alex kissed your neck, doing his best not to leave visible marks on you, sinking inside you with lazy and sloppily thrusts, his fat tip hitting your cervix over and over again. your smell mixed with sweat felt like something heavenly, making him want to live in your skin, live inside you forever if it meant continuing to have this feeling.

your eyes rolled as you felt your orgasm hitting you like a bullet. your toes curled, your legs closed and your knees gave out as you whined, but he thrusted harder, forcing you to stand up again to finish, you squealed at how deliciously rough he was with you.

‘’wish i could fill you up with my cum, baby.’’ he groaned, his words already tying his own mind in knots, a chill ran through his body like electricity at the thought of filling you with his cum, marking you with it to the brim, and that was enough for him to cum, his hot cum shooting up your walls, being contained by the condom. you felt everything heat up even more inside you. ‘’mmm fucking hell…’’ he exhaled, his body stopping completely when he felt there was nothing left to come out, he had already emptied himself completely inside you. or rather, the condom.

you were shaking, still experiencing the aftershocks of your orgasm, feeling him loosen his grip on your throat, his fingers running through your hair, removing some from your sweaty face.

‘’are you okay?’’ he asked, searching your face. you licked your puffy pouty lips, a fucked out expression plastered on your face as a low chuckle escaped.

‘’yeah. i just need some time.’’ you admitted. he hummed in agreement.

‘’i'm gonna pull out, okay?’’ he announced softly, his hand on your waist lightly caressing you with his thumb as he disconnected from you, you hissed at the feeling. your sore pussy was already used to him as if it no longer made sense not to feel him filling you anymore. ‘’there you go, babe.’’ he cooed, massaging your lower back as you took a breath and found the strength to stand up.

he discarded the used condom, his sensitive and sticky cock was already inside his boxers. you turned around to see him, he was a fucking sight to behold. he smiled at you, a fucked out expression was also tattooed on his face along with his messy hair.

‘’what?’’ he asked, buckling his belt again.

‘’you're so hot.’’ you said almost in a whisper.

‘’uh oh. you're flattering me already.’’ he chuckled, almost shy at your compliment, circling his arms around you, caressing your exhausted body. alex kissed the top of your head, acting so delicate like he wasn’t fucking you like you’re a slut minutes ago. ‘’that was amazing, really. you are amazing.’’

you smiled, letting him spread sweet kisses over the top of your head. it wasn't like an aftercare in bed, with cuddles and a hot bath afterwards, but it was enough for you now. he was enough for you now.

‘’want some water?' i can buy some for us.’’ he asked you. you shook your head, even though your throat was dry now, you didn't want to bother him. he could sense it. ‘’you’re so stubborn.’’ he grumbled in a playful way, breaking the hug. ‘’be right back.’’

you laughed foolishly, watching him go back to the movie theater. you took the opportunity to put your panties back on, the lace panties were in your hand the whole time and you couldn't stay without your underwear all the time. alex came back with a bottle of cold water for you a few minutes later. you drank half of the bottle, leaving the other half for him. he let out a satisfied sigh when he finished, throwing the plastic bottle in the trash.

‘’can i take you home?’’

you thought about the offer. your parents couldn't even dream of seeing you arrive on a motorcycle owned by a 'stranger' but you also didn't want to turn down his ride.

‘’sure.’’ you smiled at him, accepting the ride. alex had an extra helmet that he kept under the seat of his motorcycle. not that he always took someone with him, it was more for occasional situations like this.

soon enough, you were on his bike, wrapping your arms around his waist. alex would sometimes accelerate exaggeratedly just to irritate you, your voice almost shrill amidst the frenzy of the streets telling him to slow down. he laughed and you laughed along, pinching his belly over the fabric of his shirt as you felt him speeding his bike through the streets. you loved the adrenaline, the wind cutting through your face partially covered by the helmet and the low sound of his laughter when you told him to slow down a little.

you had already hitched a ride on a motorcycle a few times, but now, somehow, it felt different. as if your body next to his warmed you up more than usual as you held on tight to him whenever he accelerated after the traffic light turned green.

and this heat got worse when you looked at him in the right rearview mirror, seeing that the helmet covered part of his face, leaving only his eyes focused on the traffic visible, his huge nose and a small part of his upper lip. you have to say that you had a certain kind of meltdown when he caught you looking at him by looking at your reflection in the mirror.

soon, he was parking his motorcycle next to your house, you asked him to drop you off a few houses earlier so as not to run any risks. deep down, you wished he would take longer to get there, but you didn't dare say it out loud as you handed the helmet back to him. there was still a hint of afterglow in the air as he put the helmet back in silence.

‘’so, did you like the movie?’’ he asked in a playful way. obviously he wasn't referring to the movie. you giggled.

‘’yeah. very much.’’ you smiled at him, feeling his arms back to your waist, pulling you closer to him.

‘’i loved it. i loved meeting you. you're so fucking prettier in person.’’ he said, taking in the sight of you under the amber streetlight.

he couldn't help but want to kiss you, making you have to tilt your face so your head wouldn't hit the visor of his helmet. you could taste yourself in his mouth, but you weren't the least bit worried about it, wanting to savor this moment before he left.

‘’i'll see you next week?’’ he asked after breaking the kiss, his face still close to yours.

‘’next week?’’ you asked, blinking a few times.

‘’yeah. there's going to be a get-together at the pub where i work next saturday.’’ he replied, making an informal invitation to you.

you needed to think a little. you didn't usually go to pubs, much less at night. you really needed to think before accepting. he smiled at you, pinching your cheek.

‘’don't worry, you'll have time to think. but the entrance is free.’’ he pecked your lips one last time. ‘’and i'll make sure to make the best margarita you've ever had in your life.’’

a/n: riiiiight. this is my first note here after post something, just a taglist for my babe 'cause she asked me to: @thenightslikeawhirlwind

(let me know if you want to be tagged too :3)

[gaspandrollureyes]

“𝑪 uddles in the kitchen”

୨୧ ﹕ EYCTE era, literal js light romance

୨୧ ﹕7k words

Note: This is literally VERY RUSHED. Literally EVERYTHING!! But I felt like posting it so my blog wouldn't look 'empty'.

The rain drummed lightly against the kitchen windows, a soothing backdrop to the quiet evening. The warmth of the apartment contrasted with the chill outside, and the soft lighting in the kitchen cast a cozy glow over the room. You stood by the counter, absentmindedly drying the last of the dishes from dinner, the lingering aroma of spices still hanging in the air.

From the living room, you could hear the low hum of a guitar. Alex was strumming softly, fingers dancing over the strings as he worked out a melody. It wasn’t uncommon for him to lose himself in his music, even during moments like these, where the world seemed to slow down, and it was just the two of you, wrapped in the comfort of home.

You smiled to yourself, the gentle melody mixing with the rain. It was moments like these that you treasured most—quiet, intimate, and full of warmth. There was no need for grand gestures or words; just being in each other's presence was enough.

As you finished drying the last plate, you felt a familiar warmth at your back. Alex had quietly crept up behind you, his arms snaking around your waist as he pressed himself gently against you. His chin came to rest on your shoulder, and you felt the slight scruff of his stubble brush against your neck.

"Caught you," he murmured, his voice soft and laced with affection.

You leaned back into him, feeling the solid warmth of his chest against your back. "Caught me doing what, exactly?"

"Being too far away," he replied, his lips curving into a smile that you could feel against your skin. His arms tightened around your waist as he pulled you closer, swaying slightly from side to side.

A quiet laugh escaped you as you rested your hands over his. "I'm right here, Alex."

"Not close enough," he teased, his voice a low rumble. You could hear the smile in his tone, and it made your heart flutter in that familiar way that only he could cause.

The rain continued its gentle tap against the windows, and for a moment, the two of you stood there in silence, just holding each other. The world outside seemed to melt away, leaving only the warmth of his embrace and the steady beat of your heart.

"You know," he whispered after a while, his breath warm against your ear, "there's something about cuddles in the kitchen."

You chuckled softly, turning your head slightly to catch a glimpse of his expression. His brown eyes were soft, filled with that quiet intensity you had come to love. "Yeah? What makes them so special?"

He tilted his head, brushing his nose against your cheek. "It's the warmth, I think. The smell of home. The way everything feels... closer. Like we're in our own little world."

Your heart swelled at his words, and you turned in his arms to face him fully. He was right—there was something uniquely intimate about this moment, standing in the kitchen, wrapped in each other's arms with the world shut out. It was simple, yet it felt like everything.

You reached up, gently cupping his face in your hands, and he leaned into your touch. "I think you're right," you murmured. "Our own little world, right here."

He smiled that crooked, boyish smile that always made your heart skip a beat. "Exactly."

For a moment, neither of you said anything. You just gazed into each other's eyes, lost in the warmth and comfort of the moment. Then, slowly, Alex leaned down, his lips brushing against yours in a tender, lingering kiss.

It was slow and sweet, filled with the kind of love that didn’t need words. His hands rested on your hips, pulling you closer as the kiss deepened slightly, though never losing its softness. When you finally pulled back, you were both smiling, foreheads resting against each other.

"Think we should stay like this all night?" you whispered, your voice filled with a playful lilt.

"Tempting," he replied, his lips brushing against yours as he spoke. "But I think we’d eventually need to sit down."

You laughed softly, the sound mingling with the rain outside. "True. Can’t have you collapsing on me, Turner."

"Wouldn't dream of it," he murmured, his hands trailing up your back, sending a pleasant shiver down your spine.

The two of you eventually moved from the kitchen, settling down on the floor with your backs against the cabinets. You leaned into him, his arm wrapped around your shoulders as you both enjoyed the quiet, content in the simple comfort of each other’s company.

As the night wore on, the conversation flowed naturally—light teasing, shared memories, plans for the future. The warmth between you both never faded, even as your eyelids grew heavy, and the world outside began to quiet down.

And when you finally decided to head to bed, it was with a sense of peace that only nights like this could bring. Alex pulled you close under the covers, his hand gently brushing through your hair as you drifted off to sleep, his whispered "I love you" the last thing you heard before you succumbed to the comfort of his arms.

[elementaryhallelujahs]

ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ strawberry lace

mdni, 18+ only

he’s always been cold on his birthdays, that much is a given. he expects the indoor parties and the alcohol blankets. he expects the raging hangovers the next day and the oily regret and the bitter realisation of one more year gone by; lingering in the air like the cold. 

what he doesn’t expect is to wake up on the other side of the world. 

the south side, that is. 

he’s never been one for spontaneous travel—not one to throw caution to the wind and say fuck it! and all that jazz. 

well, he wasn’t anyway. not before her. 

alex is a planner. alex is careful. alex wants to vet things and carefully structure everything. 

she does none of those things. 

she’s a whirlwind of all things frazzled and exciting and chaotic. she’s everything he’s not; everything he wants to be. 

and so when she begs and begs for a spontaneous birthday trip, (not for her birthday, it's for his birthday) he gives in for once. 

he’s 38. he counts as a middle-aged man, alex is sure of it. and yet with her he wants to chase his youth again and again. 

the morning of the fifth he wakes up in his own bed. 

the morning of the sixth he wakes up in fiji.

what’s more is that he wakes up in an inexplicably pink, princess bedroom. there are balloons—so so many balloons! pink and white and silver and the foil ones that spell “HAPPY BIRTHDAY AL” on the wall in front of him. and the moment he moves an inch, she jumps on him and smothers him with kisses. 

“there you are. i’ve been waiting!”

“waiting for?”

“for you to wake up!” she laughs. alex smiles in return and properly pulls her against him. “happy birthday, baby.”

her lips latch onto his, making him melt. 

her entire body is warm—not the kind of warm that comes from being in front of the radiator. she’s sunshine warm, like she’s already been outside before he’s even ventured away from the land of the dreaming. 

sleep makes his body melt into hers and alex happily nuzzles his face into her tits. 

“what’s all this?”

“do you like it?” she asks and presses a kiss into his messy hair. “i could only find pink balloons at first so i just went with the theme.”

“‘s all very cute. just like you.”

alex presses a kiss on her collarbone and inhales the sent of her skin—sunshine and strawberries and vanilla. utterly sweet. once he’s started, there’s no way he can bring himself to stop tasting her skin, breathing her in. drinking in her soft sounds and shivers and relishing the feel of her fingers digging into his bicep. 

alex hasn’t even properly opened his eyes yet and he knows he’s already in heaven. 

“stay,” he murmurs and finds her lips.

she lightly runs her fingers along his stubbly jaw, all the way to the nape of his neck, sinking them into his hair. then her hand runs lower, gingerly raking her nails down his bare back, making him shiver in delight.

warmth coils in his stomach. 

january is supposed to be cold and pine scented, it’s supposed to be stubborn remnants of christmas and bittersweet new years excitement. it’s never been warm, salty breeze and a sweet, sunshine girl in his arms. 

“stay in bed with you all day?” she giggles and tries to kiss him again. alex lets her chase his mouth, then smugly pulls back at the last minute.

“stay and keep me warm.”

“you’re plenty warm!”

now that his eyes are properly open, he takes her in inch by inch—first the red of her lips and then down her jaw, her chin, her neck… she’s clad in a bikini top: white lace, printed strawberries, a bow tied at the back. before she can even object, alex pulls on the string and the knot comes undone. 

“you’re like my little birthday gift, aren’t you? i get to unwrap all the layers.”

“mmm, is that what you’re doing now?” 

her already red lip becomes redder when she bites on it and throws her leg over his so his knee hovers just below her cunt. one movement and he’ll have her shaking under him. 

he takes his time though, time is what he has in abundance today. 

alex feels his skin tingle, every press of her skin against his is electric—little sparks dancing in the barely-there space between them. her breaths comes out in quick pants and her eyes roam over him. over his face and then his chest that’s devoid of any clothes. 

the only clothes he’s wearing are some cotton pyjamas. easy to discard. 

the bikini top falls apart and there she is, right under him now, back arching so she can brush her chest against his. get any friction on her nipples really. goosebumps rise on her skin wherever his fingers touch. 

“look at you,” alex breathes and swallows roughly. he feels a little drunk then, almost like he’s been intoxicated since the moment he woke up. “my beautiful, perfect girl,” alex hums. 

his kisses turn feverish as his lips move along the hollow of her throat, her collarbone. the heat in his stomach intensifies, his hand comes to rest on the back of her neck. he’s often used this position to hold her in place, to stop her from squirming but this time his hold is gentle. 

his mouth travels lower, ghostly kisses trailed down to her breast. 

she mewls when his tongue circles around her nipples.

it doesn’t take another second before her legs are around his middle and his big hands are gripping her thighs. rough, calloused fingers digging into soft flesh while she tugs at the hair at the nape of his neck and makes him groan. 

“oh, baby baby,” he breathes on her skin and lets her pull the pyjamas off him. “how am i supposed to let you go anywhere when you look like this.”

“don’t then,” she laughs. 

her hands trace his spine and alex feels his cock twitch in his boxers. he needs to be inside her right now, needs to feel her walls clenching around him. 

he also wants to taste her but they have all day for that. 

“want to be inside you,” alex groans when he feels the wetness between her legs. 

she tries to lightly grind onto his stomach, tries to get herself off even if it’s just a little bit. 

fuck she’s beautiful, and he doesn’t want to was poetic but the sunlight streaming in through the windows and onto her skin makes her look utterly luminous. 

as if in a daze, alex slides the waistband of her underwear off her hips and traces the exposed skin with his fingers. she moans something softly.

“i want you too, al. fuck! baby…”

they barely use their words after that. the room is far from silent though—it echoes with moans and sighs and the sound of her laughter when alex nips at her skin. it’s like a little rhythm—he bites softly and chases away the sting with a lick. he leaves a mark and then rewards her with a kiss. 

she doesn’t resist him at all when her underwear joins the heap on the floor with the rest of their clothes.

his hang inches between her legs and finds her clit, fingers rubbing lazily over it, almost in circles, slow at first and growing faster until she’s squirming for more—more friction and more of him and this and ecstasy and alex knows whatever he’s doing isn’t enough but just this once he wants to hear her beg. 

(oh, who is he kidding! he always wants to hear her beg and plead and show him how much she wants him.) 

“stop being a tease,” she whines and he laughs at her desperation.

finally, alex decides to end this misery. for her and for him. the need is driving him insane too. 

when the first thrust comes, slow and sensual—and without warning—her eyes roll back in her head. she whimpers something, curses softly and holds onto him, legs locking around him so she can take him in deeper. 

“shit baby…” he moans too. she’s squeezing him so tight. all he feels is her wetness and warmth. all he feels is his cock stretching her open. 

she closes her eyes and alex tuts. “open your eyes,” he nudges, “i want you to look at me when you cum.”

and so she obliges, looking him in the eye and moaning his name softly with each thrust, lifting her hips to meet his and grinding her clit on his stomach.

the pressure inside him builds with each thrust, his entire body feels charged and taut and a current runs right under his skin. 

under him, she’s as electric as a live wire. 

“look at what you do to me,” she moans and alex feels her thighs begin to tremble. 

she must be close now, she’s certainly acting like it—nails scratching his back, teeth softly sinking into his shoulder so she doesn’t scream loud enough for everyone to hear. (if it weren’t mid morning, he would have liked to make her scream. alex mentally marks it for later tonight.)

her hips thrust upwards, trying and failing to match him. she’s erratic, almost manic. there’s no rhythm to her movements, only lust and desire and so much want for him that he feels a wave of it run through his whole body. 

under him she shudders and cries out. 

“al, baby… gonna cum, f-fuck!”

he’s about to speak, about to tell her to let go but she’s already there. her body goes tense as alex feels her squeeze around him, so fucking tight that it tips him over the edge. 

alex thrusts into her as the orgasm hits him hard. ropes and ropes of his cum filling her up, spilling from the sides under the insides of her thighs are sticky and wet with slick. both their release combined dripping out of her. 

alex can’t help but drip a finger in the mess they’ve made and bring it up to her mouth. 

“taste us,” he says and shivers when she swirls her tongue around his fingers. 

he doesn’t know how long it takes them to comes down from the high. all he knows is that they stay like that, bodies locked together, him on top of her, breathing her in. the strawberry scent of her body lotion has dulled a bit now, replaced by sex and sweat. he makes absolutely no move to pull out, only adjusts himself so his entire weight isn’t on top of her. 

“happy birthday, al.” this time her voice comes out breathy and soft. it surrounds him, permeates through his skull and bounces around his brain. 

birthday. yes. his birthday. that’s what they’re here for. 

“mmm, thank you, darling. you’re my gift, aren’t you?” his mouth moves to hers again—another sultry, lazy kiss. another long minute passes. “the absolute best birthday gift i’ve ever had.”

“is that so?”

“would you like me to show you my gratitude?” alex smirks. 

and then he moves again to position his mouth between her legs.

[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.”