They Should Invent Parents That Aren't Either Mad At You Or Disappointed In You

Use Our Power For Good

why start your own firm…why not?

warnings: lawyer!alex, smut, oral (m receiving), mutual masturbation (tiny bit), fucking, alex & his cocobolo

word count: 8.3k

You sat at his table, legs crossed, nibbling on a piece of toast as you watched Alex move around the kitchen. He was shirtless, wearing nothing but black boxer briefs and an old pair of grey sweatpants slung low on his hips. 

There was a subtle elegance in how he moved, even when he was doing something as mundane as making eggs. That messy dark hair of his hung loosely over his forehead, framing the sharp lines of his face, the kind that made people stop and stare in courtrooms. He looked different in the mornings. Softer than the man who cross-examined witnesses with a razor-sharp tongue. 

He turned towards you, the smirk already forming on his lips before he even spoke. “You staring at me for a reason, or are you just plotting your next move?”

You took another bite of toast, letting the corner of your mouth lift in response. “Can’t a girl appreciate the view without ulterior motives?”

He set the pan down, eggs forgotten for a moment as he walked toward you, his fingers trailing across the back of your chair before he bent down, pressing a soft kiss to your temple. “Just making sure. Gotta stay sharp.”

The kiss wasn’t hurried or overthought. Just a habitual gesture, like he couldn’t help himself, like staying too far away for too long was never really an option. His lips lingered against your skin for a beat longer than necessary before he straightened and returned to his side of the table, sitting down with his plate of eggs and toast. He always touched you like this, as though you were just an extension of him. It made your chest warm.

You took another sip of coffee, watching him dig into his breakfast. He was quiet again, focused on eating, but his free hand slipped across the table, resting on your thigh under the tablecloth. He didn’t even look up as he did it, just absently drew slow circles with his thumb, a familiar gesture. A reflex.

He was scrolling through his phone, probably checking emails or reading up on the day’s news. You took another bite of your toast, watching him as he absently poked at his eggs. 

“Big case today?” you asked, mostly out of habit.

“Yeah.” he replied, still staring at the screen. “Closing arguments.” He finally glanced up at you, his lips quirking into a faint smile. “Should be a fun one.”

“Is it ever?”

He smirked, that familiar, cocky glint in his eyes. “Not if you’re doing it right.”

You rolled your eyes but smiled back. 

“So…” you said, setting your mug down. “Are you ready for those closing arguments then?”

He nodded, mouth half-full, but his eyes flicked up to meet yours. “Yeah. All prepped. Just gotta go in there and do what I do best.”

“Being an insufferable ass?” you teased.

“Being brilliant.” he corrected, a mischievous grin curling his lips. “It’s why you like me, right?”

You gave him a look, shaking your head with a mock sigh. “I like you despite that, Turner.”

“Right. Of course.” he said, but his eyes never left yours, that sharp, unreadable gleam in them. “Anyway, you’re not exactly a saint yourself. Might even say you’re worse.”

You shrugged. “Only when necessary.”

Breakfast went on like that. Quiet moments, punctuated with the occasional quip. The kind of banter that was so ingrained in your relationship, it felt like breathing. You never really had to explain things to each other, never had to go over the same ground. You just existed in sync, even when the silence stretched between you.

After finishing up, you stood and wandered toward the bathroom, and soon enough, Alex followed. The two of you brushed your teeth together. In sync, like it was second nature. He was to your left, his arm brushing yours every now and then as he mimicked your movements. Spitting, rinsing, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand, as if it was part of some unspoken choreography you’d long ago perfected. It was all part of this strange, unpolished intimacy. 

Neither of you said a word. There wasn’t any need. You didn’t even look at each other, but you could feel him there, right next to you, every breath, every subtle shift of his body.

No declarations. No grand gestures. Just being.

When you both finished, he ran his fingers through his hair and turned to leave, heading to the bedroom to get dressed for the day. You followed, watching as he rummaged through his clothes, tossing them carelessly onto the bed. He slipped into his trousers first, the charcoal grey fabric sitting perfectly on his lean frame. He was halfway through buttoning them when his fingers faltered, fumbling with the belt.

He cursed softly under his breath, the faintest flush rising on his cheeks. He wasn’t used to asking for help, in any circumstances really.

“Need a hand?” you asked with a teasing lilt in your voice, crossing the room.

Alex shot you a mock glare. “I’ve got it.”

“Mhm, sure.” you said, reaching for his belt before he could protest further.

You slid the belt through the loops, threading it carefully around his waist. His eyes stayed on you, watching the movement of your hands, and for a brief moment, the air between you shifted, heavier. His fingers brushed your wrist lightly, and you glanced up at him, seeing the way his lips tugged into a small smile.

His grip lingered just enough to send a clear message, his touch unmistakable. His smirk widened, knowing full well what he was doing. He couldn’t be more obvious if he tried.

“You want me to have carpet burn on my knees at work?” you teased, already undoing the button you’d just buttoned and pushing his pants back down with ease.

“You don’t have to wear a skirt.” he replied, the suggestion just as casual as it was loaded.

“Maybe I want to show off my legs.” you retorted, sinking to your knees in front of him, your fingers already tracing the waistband of his briefs. He reached down, brushing your hair back, his thumb grazing the side of your jaw.

“Nah,” he said, voice low, “they don’t need to see your legs.”

“I’ve got beautiful legs.” you countered, your hands deftly working to pull him free from the confines of his briefs. 

“That you do.” he agreed, voice rougher now, desire evident. “But one admirer is enough.”

“Yeah?” you asked, looking up at him, lips grazing his skin.

“I’d say so.” His hand wrapped around his cock, guiding it to your mouth. You licked, tasting him, and his groan sent a thrill down your spine. His fingers threaded through your hair as you took him deeper, his head tilting back with a stifled moan. 

There wasn’t much time, but that never seemed to bother him. You’d had sex the night before, but Alex was insatiable, always wanting more, always needing you. His hips rocked gently toward you as you worked, your mouth warm and eager, and each sound he made was a reminder of how deeply he craved you.

“Just like that.” he breathed, his voice ragged, and you could feel the tension coiling in his body.

His grip on your hair tightened, just enough to keep you where he wanted, guiding your movements as his breathing grew heavier. You moved in sync with him, the rhythm between you both intensifying. Every little moan, every gasp, fueled you, pushing you to keep going, to give him exactly what he needed.

“Fuck.” he muttered, his hips stuttering slightly, and you could tell he was close already. His thighs trembled, muscles tensing beneath your touch as you sped up, your lips and tongue working him over, eager to push him to that edge. “You’re so good...don’t stop.”

His words, though steady at first, soon dissolved into incoherent murmurs, half-formed phrases that trailed off as his pleasure overtook him. His grip in your hair became more insistent. His fingers flexed. Possessive, almost desperate. His chest heaved, and the next groan that escaped him was louder, more guttural. “Gonna-” He couldn’t finish the sentence, the words cut off by the pleasure coursing through him. 

He pushed himself deep, holding you there as his release hit, his body jerking as he came into your mouth. His moans filled the space, deep and raw, and you felt the satisfaction of knowing you’d brought him there, unravelled him like no one else could.

He swore under his breath, the sound escaping between clenched teeth as he held you close, his fingers pressing into the back of your head, keeping you there. “Swallow…” he muttered, his voice strained but commanding. “Yeah…swallow it- fuck-”

You did as he asked, feeling his release warm inside your mouth as his hand gently relaxed its hold on you, his body beginning to soften from the intensity of the moment. Finally, he pulled back, his breathing still uneven, and you took a deep breath, wiping your mouth with the back of your hand as you stood.

His head was still tilted back, eyes closed, a lingering smile on his face as he came down from the high. When he finally opened his eyes, meeting yours, the look he gave you was one of pure satisfaction. “You’re too damn good at that.” he muttered, voice still hoarse with lingering pleasure.

You grinned, standing up and brushing yourself off, giving him a playful smirk. “I know.”

The air between you was thick with the afterglow on his part. You helped him pull up his pants and fastened the belt you’d teasingly started to buckle earlier but ultimately failed. Alex watched you with a blissed-out expression, his usual cool demeanour softened.

“Thanks.” he murmured, a small grin tugging at his lips.

You couldn’t help but smile back, straightening his collar with a quick touch. “Don’t get used to it.” you teased, but the warmth in your voice betrayed the affection that always lingered beneath the surface.

Alex chuckled softly, the sound low and easy, as he leaned back against the desk behind him, still catching his breath. He pulled you close, one arm snaking around your waist as he leaned in, pressing a slow kiss to your lips. When he pulled back, his grin was softer, but still wicked. “Round two later? Pay you back.” he teased.

You raised an eyebrow. “Only if you can handle it.”

His laughter echoed through the room. “We’ll see about that.”

His hand came up, fingers gently adjusting the collar of your shirt in turn. “You know,” he said, his voice quieter now, more serious, “you never get your collar right.”

His touch was deliberate but light, moving on autopilot, as if he was still half-asleep despite other parts of him being very much awake just minutes before.

You arched an eyebrow, your lips quirking into a smirk. “I think I’m capable of managing a collar.”

“Just doing my part.” he shrugged. “Gotta keep you looking sharp too, don’t I?” he said, with just a hint of that teasing tone you both fell into so easily. 

You tilted your head at him. “Maybe I’m just waiting for you to fix it for me every time.”

“That’s probably it.” he murmured, his hands lingering at your collar for a beat too long. His thumb ran across the fabric one more time, smoothing it down before his hands rested on your shoulders. 

As he finished getting ready, you grabbed your blazer and slid it on, reaching for your bag. You could feel his gaze following you across the room. He was fastening his cufflinks now, the polished lawyer reappearing beneath the quiet intimacy of the morning.

“Am I gonna get to see you for lunch today?” he asked, his tone casual but his eyes sharp as they met yours through the mirror.

“Yeah.” you said, not looking away as you smoothed down the front of your blazer. “I’ll make it work.”

“Good.” he said, his voice dipping lower. “Can’t go too long without you.”

He said it like a fact, not a compliment, not even an acknowledgment of your relationship. Just a truth. 

“Wouldn’t want to have to go a whole day without seeing your charming self.” you shot back. 

The smile on his face was disarming, warm, and so utterly Alex. There was something so simple in it.

With one last glance at each other, he grabbed his briefcase and you headed out the door together, slipping back into the roles you played so well. But in these quiet moments, in the space between courtrooms and deadlines, there was something else. Something neither of you were quite ready to define but were already living.

The morning had flown by, and your mind was still buzzing with the details of your case as you sat at your desk, flipping through documents. The office around you was its usual hive of activity. Murmured conversations, the soft hum of printers, the distant clatter of keyboards. You barely noticed the way the time slipped away until your phone buzzed on the desk, cutting through your focus.

Alex’s name lit up the screen.

You answered, leaning back in your chair and rubbing your temple with your free hand. “Hey.”

“Hey.” he replied. You could hear the low hum of the car engine in the background. “I’m in the car, just a few minutes out.”

You glanced at the clock, biting your lip. The familiar pang of guilt settled in your chest. “I don’t have much time.” you said, your words rushing out quicker than you intended. “I’ve got a meeting in twenty.”

There was a pause on the other end, a small silence that felt heavier than it should have, just long enough to feel his frustration seep through the line. You could almost picture him, fingers tapping impatiently against the steering wheel, his brow furrowing in that way it always did when he was frustrated but trying to hold it in. “Yeah, I know.” he muttered, his voice quiet. You heard him shift, a soft exhale of breath escaping him. “The traffic’s a nightmare today. Honestly, how do people drive in this city?” he grumbled, half to himself. “Should’ve just walked at this point.”

You smiled faintly at the thought, but the weight of what came next erased any humour from the moment.

“We need to talk about this,” he said suddenly, his voice dropping an octave, growing more serious, “you and me. This is getting insufferable. You know we should just work together. It makes sense.”

Your heart did that thing it always did when he caught you off guard, skipping a beat, leaving a rush of warmth in its wake. You felt a knot form in your stomach, the kind you got when you knew something was coming that you weren’t ready for. You’d always had this unspoken line between work and...whatever it was the two of you had. A line you knew could blur if you weren’t careful.

“Work together?” you repeated, more as a stall than anything, trying to gather your thoughts. “Alex, I don’t...”

“Yeah.” he cut in, his voice stronger now, as if he’d been rehearsing this in his head. “You and I, together. We’d kill it in court. Think about it. Why keep butting heads at different firms when we could just...” He trailed off, but you knew where his mind was going. It was in the space between his words, hanging heavy in the air like he didn’t need to say it out loud. “It’s logical.”

The idea wasn’t new. He’d hinted at it before, thrown out suggestions here and there, always couched in some half-joke. But this was different. He was serious now, no more dodging around it.

You didn’t know what to say. Logically, he was right. You’d been a force to be reckoned with whenever you faced off in court. The cases you’d gone against each other on were some of the best work you’d ever done. Exhilarating in a way that made you feel more alive. But there was something about mixing work with...this. Whatever this was. It wasn’t just simple anymore.

“I don’t know.” you said finally, your voice softer, hesitant. “It’s just...it’s a lot, Alex. You know that.”

He sighed on the other end, and you could hear the frustration mixed with understanding. “Yeah, I get it.” said, and you heard the creak of the steering wheel as he gripped it tighter, a long exhale filling the silence. “But it doesn’t have to be. You and me, we’re already halfway there. We could just make it official, take it to…to the next level, you know.”

You closed your eyes for a moment, feeling the tension of the conversation build in your chest. It wasn’t just about working together. It was about everything else that came with it. The unspoken moments between you, the way he kissed you without thinking, the way you fell into this easy rhythm together. You didn’t know if you could handle that being tangled up with the ruthless, high-stakes world you both worked in.

“I’m not sure,” you admitted, “I need to think about it.”

There was another pause, and you could feel him shifting in his seat, probably glancing out the window, his mind already running through different arguments to convince you. But he didn’t push it, not this time. The car’s engine hummed softly in the background, and you could hear the faint click of his turn signal as he switched lanes, inching his way through the traffic. You could practically see his expression, the tight line of his lips, the slight twitch of his jaw as he waited for a different answer. 

“Alex?” you called out, knowing he was still there but not knowing how to change the subject already without hurting him more.

“I’m here.”

“Alex…” you hesitated, running a hand through your hair as you leaned back in your chair, staring at the stack of papers on your desk. “You know it’s not just about work. If we did this- if we worked together it- it would change everything. It’s not just you and me in court, you know that.”

“Yeah, but maybe that’s not a bad thing.” His voice was firm but quieter, trying not to push too hard. “I know we’ve got something good going on, but it could be better. We wouldn’t have to hide it anymore. We could be a team, inside and out.”

You could hear the light change through the phone, the faint rev of his engine as he started moving again. He was getting closer, but you felt further away from an answer. This was Alex. The same man who made you feel more alive than anyone else but also made you question every line you’d ever drawn in the sand.

“I just don’t want to mess this up.” you said softly, almost to yourself.

“You won’t.” he replied quickly, like he’d already made up his mind. “We won’t. We’re good together. You know that.”

The knot in your stomach didn’t unravel, though. If anything, it tightened as his words echoed in your head. You knew this wasn’t the last time he’d bring it up. He wouldn’t let it go easily. The idea of working together, of making your personal and professional lives one...It was a lot. Maybe too much.

But knowing Alex, he wasn’t going to stop until he made you see why it made sense.

“Just...drive safe, okay?” you added, trying to shift the conversation away from the heavy stuff. You couldn’t tackle this right now. Not with a meeting in twenty minutes and a head full of case details.

“Yeah.” he said, and you could hear the tension in his voice, but he didn’t press further. “I’ll be there in 5.”

“Okay.” you breathed. “Bye, Alex.”

“Bye.”

You hung up, staring at your phone for a moment as his words echoed in your mind. You stared at the wall for what felt like two seconds but when you glanced back at your screen you saw his text saying he’s pulling up. You sprinted out of your office, the door barely clicking shut behind you as you rushed down the stairwell. Taking the stairs was faster than the elevator, and besides, it gave you a few extra seconds to collect yourself before you met him. 

You and Alex had this unspoken routine. You’d meet him in the parking lot most times, tucked away where no one else was around. Down there, you didn’t have to be the sharp lawyers the world expected. You could just be you, and he could be him.

You pushed open the heavy door, the cool breeze hitting your face as you stepped out into the open. The lot was mostly empty this time of day, just a few scattered cars from the building’s occupants. You stood there for a moment, catching your breath, the usual knot of anticipation already forming in your stomach.

Then, you saw him.

Alex pulled up in his black car, the engine purring as it rolled into a spot a few feet away from you. He cut the engine and stepped out, immediately shrugging off his suit blazer and draping it over his arm like it was second nature. He looked every bit the part of the high-powered lawyer anyone would expect. White shirt with the sleeves rolled up to his elbows, tie slightly loosened. But there was something different about him here, something softer, more familiar. His eyes found yours as he walked toward you, and that faint smile of his tugged at the corners of his mouth.

He greeted you with a kiss on the cheek, his hand brushing lightly against your arm as he did. It was casual, but the contact lingered, like he couldn’t help himself.

“You always beat me down ‘ere.” he teased.

You shrugged, pulling out a cigarette from your jacket pocket. He reached into his own for a lighter, flicking it to life and holding the flame out for you. You leaned in, the tip of the cigarette catching fire, and took a slow drag as he watched you, his eyes searching your face for something unspoken.

“About earlier…” he started, and you could hear the nervousness creeping into his voice. He wasn’t usually like this. Hesitant. “I was serious, you know. About us…working together.”

You exhaled, the smoke swirling in the air between you as you passed the cigarette to him. He took a drag, his eyes never leaving your face as he waited for your response.

“What do you say?” he asked, his voice low but insistent now that he could actually see you, not just hear your voice.

You glanced down at the ground for a moment, buying yourself a few seconds before meeting his gaze again. “I just- I don’t see why it’s so important to you that we work together.”

He held the cigarette between his fingers and then, carefully, brought it back to your lips, watching you as you took another drag. His fingers brushed your chin lightly, and for a moment, neither of you said anything. You just stared at him, and he stared right back, his expression unreadable but intense, like he was trying to gauge what you were thinking.

“I mean,” you gestured between the two of you, “we’re already…you know.” The words were clumsy, but he understood. “Why do you need me for this?”

He looked down for a second, his brows furrowing as if he was choosing his words carefully. When he looked back up, his voice was soft but steady. “I don’t need you. I want you.”

You felt your chest tighten at the simplicity of his words, the quiet honesty in them. You held his gaze, letting the weight of what he was saying sink in. 

“You’ve got me.” you said, kicking his foot lightly with the heel of your shoe, a small smile tugging at the corner of your mouth. “Just…not as a law partner.”

He chuckled softly, a brief, resigned sound, as if he had expected the answer but had hoped for something different. You took another slow drag from the cigarette, savouring the moment, then passed it back to him.

“I have to get back to work.” you said after a pause, nodding toward the office building. “You okay?”

Alex hesitated for a moment, looking down at the ground, then back up at you with a small, almost imperceptible smile. “Yeah, no. I’m fine. Go on.”

You lingered for a moment longer, searching his face for something. An answer, maybe. To what question you didn’t know. Or reassurance. But all you found was that quiet confidence. He wasn’t going to push it, at least not right now. 

“See you later?” he called after you as you turned to leave.

“Yeah.” you replied, already making your way back toward the stairs.

“Yours?” he asked, his voice louder now, echoing slightly off the concrete walls of the parking lot.

“Sure!” you called over your shoulder without turning around, a smile pulling at your lips as you jogged back up the stairs, the cigarette smoke still lingering in the air behind you.

You were already in bed, the soft sheets pulled up around your waist, your skin still warm from the shower, the faint scent of your body lotion mingling with the cool air. The room was dim, the only light coming from the small lamp on the bedside table. You’d changed into one of his old t-shirts, the familiar fabric loose and worn in a way that made it impossible to part with, no matter how many times he teased you for stealing it. The quiet stretched on as you waited for Alex to come home. You’d been waiting, listening for the door creaking open, the soft shuffle of his footsteps.

When you heard the soft click of the door, your ears perked up. You didn’t move, but you could feel the shift in the air. Alex came in quietly, much more than usual. Normally, he’d throw his jacket over a chair or kick off his shoes with a heavy thud, but tonight there was a certain stillness about him. 

He looked worn out. His shirt, which had been crisp and neat this morning, was now wrinkled and untucked, the first few buttons already undone. The lines of his face seemed deeper in the dim light, shadows catching in the angles of his cheekbones and jaw. 

You told yourself it was because he had a long day. Maybe the case had drained him, maybe he was exhausted. But deep down, you knew that wasn’t it. He looked tired, sure, but there was something else lingering in his expression. Something unsettled.

He dropped his keys on the dresser and made his way over to the drawer he kept here, the one where he’d stashed a few pairs of pyjamas, toothbrush, the essentials that had come to live at your place over time. You watched him from your side of the bed. His fingers moved lazily, tugging off his tie and tossing it aside before unbuttoning the rest of his shirt, peeling it off with slow, almost mechanical movements, revealing the familiar lines of his arms and the muscles in his back tensing as he stretched briefly.

He slipped into his pyjama bottoms and pulled on a t-shirt, the one that clung a little too tight to his chest but he refused to replace. You caught yourself staring, something about watching him shed the day’s uniform, the shield he wore out in the world, felt strangely intimate. His head tilted slightly as if he were trying to shake off the day before climbing into bed beside you. 

He leaned back against the headboard, pulling his legs up under the covers. He didn’t look at you, though. Not right away. Instead, he reached for the book that had been sitting on your nightstand for weeks, long forgotten since the last time he’d stayed over. 

He opened it, the pages rustling softly, but you knew he wasn’t really reading. He wasn’t even pretending to be interested. His eyes didn’t track the words, his fingers didn’t move to turn the page. He was just holding it, an anchor for his hands, something to focus on other than you. You knew he wasn’t reading. He knew you knew. You watched him. His brow furrowed slightly, the subtle tension in his jaw telling you he wasn’t as relaxed as he wanted to seem. After a few minutes, you broke the silence.

You cleared your throat softly, turning slightly to face him, resting your head on your hand as you studied his profile. “How did that case go today?”

“Huh?” he asked, glancing up at you for a second, almost like he hadn’t heard you. He had.

You repeated the question, trying to keep your voice light. “The case. How’d it go?”

“Oh.” He shifted slightly, closing the book halfway, letting it rest in his lap as he rubbed the back of his neck. “It was good, yeah.”

There was a beat of silence, and you raised an eyebrow, waiting for him to elaborate. When he didn’t, you pressed, “Is that all?”

He hesitated, and you could see the gears turning in his head, like he was debating how much to tell you or how much to leave unsaid. Finally, he shrugged. “It went really well. Best outcome possible. But...I wasn’t expecting anything else, really.” His voice was flat, like the words were rehearsed, like he was brushing off a win that didn’t excite him anymore. 

You studied him for a second, taking in the way his lips pressed together in that subtle frown, how his fingers tightened slightly around the spine of the book. He wasn’t tense exactly, just…off. 

“Then why are you acting like it wasn’t?”

He sighed, staring at some distant point on the wall. His fingers tapped against the book cover in a slow, steady rhythm.

“Alex, what’s going on?”

He sighed, again, setting the book back on the nightstand with a soft thud. He just sat there, staring down at his hands, rubbing his thumb across the palm of his hand as if the answer was written there. His lips parted, like he was going to say something, but then he stopped himself, exhaling slowly. For a moment, you thought he might brush you off, tell you everything was fine and leave it at that. 

“It’s not the case.” he finally muttered, his voice quieter now. “It’s everything else. Work, this…” He gestured vaguely, not quite looking at you. “I can handle it, but lately, it’s been…I don’t know. It’s just...I’ve been thinking ‘bout earlier. What I said.”

You nodded, not breaking eye contact, waiting for him to continue.

“I wasn’t expecting you to be so…against it.” he admitted, his fingers fidgeting with the hem of his shirt now, that old nervous habit of his resurfacing. “I thought you’d at least consider it.”

You let out a small breath, sitting up a bit straighter. “It’s not that I’m against it, Alex.” you explained. “It’s just...complicated.”

“I don’t see why it has to be.” he muttered, his brows furrowing slightly, his hand reaching for yours almost instinctively, his thumb brushing over your knuckles. 

You looked down at your intertwined hands, feeling the warmth of his skin against yours, the quiet sincerity in his touch. 

“Everything feels like it’s building up, and I can’t figure out why it’s getting to me like this.” he said, his voice almost too soft to hear. “Us...I don't know. It’s like…” He stopped himself, letting out a low, frustrated sigh. “It’s nothing. I’ll be fine.”

“It’s not nothing if it’s making you feel like this. Talk to me.”

He looked down at your hand in his, his jaw tightening slightly as he processed your words. After a long moment, he gave a small nod, but he still didn’t speak. Instead, he turned his hand over, threading his fingers more tightly with yours. 

“It’s just hard.” he finally admitted. “I thought we would be on the same page.”

You squeezed his hand gently. “We are. I just need time to sort through it.”

His gaze flickered to yours, a mix of frustration and hurt. “Time? That’s what you need? I’m tired of waiting.”

“Alex, please-”

“Just cut it out!” he snapped, his frustration boiling over. “I’m not doing this now.”

He picked up his book again, but the tension in the air was palpable. You watched him for a moment, feeling a flash of irritation, but you bit it back. It wasn’t worth pushing him further, not when you could tell he was already on edge. So instead, you slipped your hand under the covers, over his stomach, feeling the muscles tense slightly under your touch.

You knew this was a distraction, but maybe it was what you both needed. Sex was great between you two. Sex was a distraction. A good one at that. At least temporarily. 

He made a small sound, a mix of surprise and something else as your hand moved lower. You felt his hands tremble slightly on the book, and he turned to look at you, his expression shifting.

“You promised you’d pay me back this morning.” you reminded him softly.

“Fine.” he replied, shifting closer. 

His hand slipped inside your underwear, a rush of heat igniting between you. You stroked him gently, feeling the tension begin to ease. His breath quickened as he rubbed you in return, his fingers moving in sync with your hand, both of you seeking that familiar distraction, that physical release. His touch was firm but not rushed, the way it always was when you needed to feel close but couldn’t find the words to say it. It felt good, but not quite enough.

“Are you going to drop the mad act already?” you asked, teasing him gently.

Alex gave a small, breathy laugh, pulling his hand from you and rolling over, hovering above you now. He looked down at you, his eyes soft but still clouded with something unsaid. “I’m only doing this,” he murmured, leaning in closer, his lips barely an inch from yours, “because I’m a man of my word.”

His lips brushed against yours, and in that moment, it felt like everything else faded away. You smiled faintly, your hands slipping around his waist as he kissed you, his weight settling over you just enough to feel his warmth, his presence. 

His hands found their way to your hips, slipping under the fabric of your shirt, fingers tracing lazy patterns along your skin. There was something unhurried in the way he touched you, as if he wasn’t in any rush to push things further, just savouring the closeness, the feel of you beneath him.

But you could sense the restlessness in him. That quiet frustration still hummed beneath the surface, barely contained. You broke the kiss, leaning your forehead against his for a moment, catching your breath.

“You’re still pissed.” you said softly, your fingers brushing through his hair. He didn’t respond immediately, just exhaled heavily, his eyes fluttering closed for a second.

“I’m not-” he started, but you cut him off with a gentle nudge.

“Don’t lie. I know you.”

He opened his eyes again, staring down at you, his expression caught somewhere between frustration and affection. “I’m not pissed.” he said, though there was an edge of stubbornness in his voice. “I just...I wasn’t expecting you to shut it down. It made sense to me.”

“I didn’t shut it down.” you countered, brushing your thumb across his jawline. “I just-”

“Shut up.” he said, slamming his mouth back onto yours, giving you no choice but to do as he said. 

As the kiss deepened, the conversation slipped away, replaced by the familiar rhythm of your bodies moving together. His hand found your waist again, tugging you closer, and for a while, you let yourselves get lost in each other. 

He pulled your shorts down, and you tugged his boxers down. You chuckled, glancing down at him. “See? You’re already hard. And to think you wanted to pretend you didn’t want this.” you remarked, a playful edge to your tone.

“Yeah, because you were just jerking me off, of course I’m-” he began, but you cut him off.

“Just fuck me.” you demanded. 

“You sure?” he murmured, his lips brushing against your ear, his breath warm, teasing.

“Shut up.” Your words came out in a breathless rush, your pulse racing as his lips moved down your neck, leaving a trail of heat in their wake. “More cock, less talk.”

A low chuckle rumbled deep in his chest, the vibration of it spreading through you, and despite yourself, you laughed softly, the sound mingling with his. His forehead pressed against yours for a moment, his breath mingling with your own. 

“You’re impossible.” he said, though a smile pulled at the corner of his lips, the playful tone lingering between you both.

“Yeah,” you replied with a smirk, “but you love it.”

His grin widened as he closed the space between you, his mouth claiming yours. “Guess I’ll just have to show you.”

His hands gripped your hips firmly, rough fingers digging into your skin with just the right amount of pressure, pulling you against him. Your bodies pressed together, heat radiating between you, every inch of him solid. 

With a slow thrust, he pushed inside you, his body filling yours completely, drawing a sharp gasp from your lips as your body arched beneath him. His own groan followed, his forehead dropping to your shoulder as the playful edge disappeared. 

His hips withdrew slightly, only to drive forward again, deeper this time, his movements slow but intense. One of his hands slid down to your thigh, gripping it firmly as he hooked your leg around his waist, the angle changing, every thrust hitting deeper. 

“God, you feel fucking amazing.” he gasped, his breath hot against your skin, his forehead pressing to yours once more, eyes locking onto you. Your hands tangled in his hair, pulling him closer, urging him on, and he responded without hesitation, his hips driving forward again and again and again. “Tell me what you want.” he rasped. 

“I want you.” you answered, your eyes locking onto his, your body tightening around him with every thrust. “I want all of you.”

“You have me.” he breathed. “Completely.”

“Then don't hold back.” you pleaded, the urgency of your words sending a thrill through him.

His pace quickened, his thrusts growing harder, faster, the sound of your bodies moving together filling the room, skin against skin, the slap of it in sync with the pounding of your heartbeat. The air between you grew hotter, more charged, as his movements became more frenzied, less controlled. 

“That’s it…” he muttered through gritted teeth, his jaw clenched with the effort of holding on. “Fuck.”

“Alex.” you gasped, your body coiling tighter, that familiar warmth building low in your belly, spreading through your veins. He paused, just for a heartbeat. 

“Look at me.” he commanded. 

You met his gaze, your breath catching in your throat. “Just us.” you whispered, your voice barely audible over the thundering of your pulse. He nodded, his expression softening even as his body remained taut.

His movements resumed, but now, there was a new intensity to them, a rhythm that felt like it was made just for you, attuned to your every reaction. Your body moved instinctively in time with his, every nerve alive, your breath coming faster, your moans growing louder as pleasure surged through you.

You clung to him, fingers digging into the muscles of his back as his thrusts became more urgent, more relentless. His name escaped your lips in a breathless, needy whisper, and the sound seemed to spur him on. His hips snapped against yours desperately. 

“God…” he muttered, his breath ragged, “so fucking good.”

The words barely sank in, your mind clouded by the pressure coiling tighter and tighter inside you. His hand slid between your bodies, fingers skillfully finding that swollen spot. He rubbed in perfect sync with his thrusts. The slick warmth of his touch, each movement, each stroke, pushed you closer to breaking.

“Together…” you breathed, barely able to get the words out, your voice tight with need.

His eyes met yours, dark and filled with a feral intensity. He quickened his pace, his hips driving into you with a frantic intensity that left no space between pleasure and pain, each thrust harder and deeper than the last. The tension in your body spiralled, every nerve set alight as his body slammed into yours. There was only him and his body moving inside you. 

“Fuck, it feels so good.” he groaned, his voice strained.

“Alex-” His name was barely a whisper, lost in the sounds of skin meeting skin. 

“I’m close.” he gasped, his breath ragged, his grip on your thigh tightening as he thrust into you harder. His eyes were wild now, half-lidded and filled with raw need. His body moved over you like he couldn’t get enough, couldn’t push deep enough, fast enough. His cock drove into you with desperate force, the angle hitting just right, over and over, until your head fell back. 

“Fuck- please-” you cried out, your body trembling beneath him, your nails digging into his back as you held on, the tension inside you about to snap. “Now. Now.” you choked out, your body trembling uncontrollably. 

He grunted in response, his face contorted with the strain of holding back. His hips slammed into you harder, faster, every movement rough, relentless. He was close, so close, and you could feel it in the way his breath came out. 

“Jesus- fuck-” He groaned deeply, his head falling forward, forehead pressed to yours, eyes squeezing shut as his hips jerked forward.

“Gonna come-” your voice was low, just as wrecked as his.

You cried out as your orgasm hit, your entire body seizing, muscles clenching hard around him. You could feel him inside you, still moving, his cock twitching as your body squeezed tight around him.

He wasn’t far behind. You could feel his body tighten, his rhythm faltering as he swore under his breath. “Fuck...so tight, I’m gonna-” His words broke off in a guttural groan as his hips jerked erratically, a deep groan tearing from his throat as he came hard, spilling into you with a few final, messy thrusts. His whole body shuddered, hips bucking involuntarily as the pleasure wracked through him, each pulse drawing another breathless curse from his lips.

“Fuck…” he swore again, voice strangled and hoarse, his movements growing more sluggish and sensitive. His body shivered against yours, the intensity of his release leaving him trembling, breathless, each small movement sending a jolt through him that made him gasp, his eyes squeezing shut as he fought the overstimulation.

“Shit.” he groaned, his face buried against your neck, his breath hot and heavy against your skin. He gave one last shallow thrust, his body shaking as he finally stilled, collapsing against you.

For a long moment, there was nothing but the sound of your mingled breaths. His weight pressed down on you, heavy but in a good way, his chest rising and falling against yours. His lips brushed against your neck, still hot with exertion, and you could feel his heart hammering against your skin, the rhythm slowing as the last waves of pleasure ebbed away. His arms stayed wrapped tightly around you, as if he couldn’t bear to let go just yet.

His breath came out in a long, shaky exhale as he slowly started to come down, body still twitching in the aftermath. His forehead rested against yours again, his eyes fluttering open, heavy-lidded and glazed with exhaustion. He gave you a weak, satisfied smile.

“Well,” you muttered, still catching your breath, a lazy smile tugging at your lips, “that’s one way to shut you up.”

He let out a soft chuckle, his breath warm against your skin. “Yeah...but I think I’ll need a minute to recover.” His body slumped against yours, spent, his weight heavy but familiar. He pressed a gentle kiss to your shoulder, lingering like he didn’t want to move just yet. “Honestly, I think I’ll let you do the talking from now on…we should’ve just done this from the start.”

He shifted slightly, his hips still flush against you, his cock twitching inside, even as he softened. His breath hitched, and he groaned quietly. “I’m still too sensitive...you’ve ruined me.”

You laughed, brushing a hand through his sweat-dampened hair. “That’s your problem now.”

“Yeah, it’s a good problem to have.” he murmured, his arms winding tighter around you. He buried his face in the crook of your neck, his lips brushing lightly against your skinz He needed the closeness, even a millimetre of distance would be too much. “Can we just stay like this for a bit? I like being close to you.”

He always got clingy after sex. It was sweet, endearing, really, but there was a softness in the way he did it that never failed to make you smile. You nodded, tightening your arms around him in response.

“Yeah, we can stay like this.”

Eventually, the heat between your bodies became too much, and he rolled off you, but not far. With a content sigh, he shifted onto his back, pulling you against his chest, his arm draping protectively over your waist. His fingers traced lazy circles on your shoulder, the soothing rhythm of his touch lulling you into a peaceful calm.

He was quiet for a few minutes, his hand still absentmindedly stroking your skin, until he broke the silence with a quiet, “Hey.”

You tilted your head up, meeting his gaze. “Hey. What’s on your mind?” you asked.

“I want a cocobolo desk.” he blurted out, completely serious.

You blinked, not sure if you’d heard him right. “What?”

“Yeah, I know…we were just- uh, you know- and I’m thinking about furniture.”

“You were just inside me, Alex.” you said, still catching your breath, a laugh bubbling up. “And you’re thinking about a cocobolo desk?”

“I was thinking about it then too.” he admitted sheepishly, a grin tugging at the corner of his lips.

You playfully shoved his shoulder, shaking your head. “You’re such a bastard.”

“I’m a multi-tasker,” he said, “I can focus on more than one important thing at a time.”

You snorted, rolling your eyes. “Oh, yeah? So I’m just as important as a desk?”

He raised an eyebrow, feigning deep thought. “You know I love you.”

“More than a cocobolo desk?” you teased, smirking.

“Comme ci, comme ça.” You could tell he was only half-joking, and that made it all the funnier.

“Fuck your desk.” you shot back, still grinning. “We’re not talking about desks right now.”

“It’s a beautiful desk.” he insisted, his voice dropping in mock seriousness. “Elegant. Sleek. Very functional.” He gestured with his hands like he was painting a picture of it in the air.

You fought the smile threatening to break through but couldn’t hold back. “What are we even doing here?”

He shifted, leaning closer so that his forehead rested against yours. “Just dreaming about the future, I guess.” he said softly, his voice a little more vulnerable now. “You’re dripping out what could’ve been my future, you know. All that cum? Just wasted potential. Those could’ve been great kids.”

You snorted, shaking your head. “Oh my god, you’re ridiculous.”

“Ridiculously right.” he teased, giving you a lopsided grin. “I’m talking little prodigies, world-changers. And now…we’ll never know.”

You rolled your eyes, laughing. “You’re really out here mourning imaginary kids?”

“I’m just saying.” he shrugged, still smirking. “Lost potential…but seriously,” he said, lowering his voice, “a cocobolo desk would be perfect for the office.”

You raised a brow. “What office?”

“Ours. You know, when you change your mind and we start our own firm.”

You sighed dramatically, though you couldn’t keep the warmth from your tone. “Okay, fine. Maybe. But can we remember that we’re naked and we just fucked raw for now, baby?”

His grin softened as he scooted closer, wrapping an arm around your waist and pulling you back into his chest. “Oh, I remember.” 

You chuckled, shaking your head. “You’re very touchy tonight.”

He nuzzled into your neck, his breath hot against your skin. “I just think it’s important to reflect on our…accomplishments. I mean, look at us.” He gestured between the two of you, smirking. “That last round?” His hand settled on your hip, pulling you even closer. “That was top-tier teamwork.”

“You’re seriously calling this teamwork?”

He nodded solemnly, though his grin betrayed him. “Oh, definitely. Partnership at its finest. And just wait until you see this desk. You’ll understand. You’ll fall in love with it, I swear.”

“Jeez, Turner.” you laughed, “I hate that I love you sometimes.” 

He kissed the top of your head, lingering for a moment like he was trying to soak it all in. “I love you too.” he murmured, his voice softer now, more serious, like he needed you to really hear it. “And not just because you put up with me.”

You smiled into his chest, feeling his arms tighten around you just a bit more. His breath slowed, growing deeper, more relaxed, but his grip on you never loosened. Even in his awkward, clingy way, you could feel how much he needed this, you.

a/n: Like I said, heavily based on Kim & Jimmy from BCS. I mean, the cocobolo says it all. I would be down for a follow up part if anyone would like that.

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

at the heart of what the business is

if you work with him every day, you might as well fuck him

warnings: smut, eating, blowing, fingering, fucking, etc.

word count: 4.7k

He looks like he has had one too many drinks and you're almost certain he hasn't been without a cigarette in his hand all night. His hair makes him look scruffy like a stray dog. You're filled with a desire to kick him, not out of cruelty, but to see if he'd react. He's got a shadow of stubble that looks like sandpaper. You think if you run your hand down his cheek, scratches would cover the palm of your hand. He's disgusting. Before walking down into the restaurant, he spat on the stairs, leaving a blob of salvia just begging to be slipped in. (You're disgusting; covered in a want for you to be that cement stair).

You two haven't taken to one another exactly. He hasn't acknowledged your presence and you scoff whenever he speaks. There's an obligation to work together but you don't have to interact with him outside of it. You don't hate him, you find him strange in a fascinating kind of way. He definitely hates you, at least you think.

He's across from you at the table though neither of you has made eye contact. He's talking with Ben and you're talking with Elizabeth. Except you and Elizabeth are watching him out of the corners of your eyes and talking about him. 

"Is he looking at me?" She whispers harshly.

You glance over. "No, he's still talking to Ben."

"What about now?"

"Still talking to Ben."

She groaned. "Whatever. I give up. He'll just be the one that got away." She sighed heavily and sank into her hand.

You laugh. "I don't think you're missing out on much."

She gasps. "He's so dreamy. What are you talking about?

You shrug and sip your wine. "He's always seemed a bit arrogant to me."

Elizabeth sneers, "You've never even talked to him."

You object to this. "I talked to him at work today and he was a prick." He ignored you and instead talked to your project partner, Jeff. You took the slight as misogynistic. A fact Elizabeth vehemently denied when it came to Alex. To Elizabeth, Alex was a god. He could have no faults. 

The wait staff came out with everyone's orders and the conversation dissolved into a more central conversation as Ed, everyone's boss, asked after his crew. He seemed to know every detail about everyone. "And Alex, how's that lady you're seeing?" Ed exclusively called people "lady" or "fellow." It amused you every time. You giggle into your napkin.

"Uh, um." He awkwardly moves in his chair. "We aren't seeing each other anymore." Elizabeth practically shakes the table in excitement, which causes you to laugh louder. Alex's eyes land on you and you turn red at the embarrassing idea he thinks you're laughing at the demise of his relationship. You cover it with a cough into your napkin, but it sounds and looks fake.

Ed looks solemnly toward Alex and says, "I'm sorry to hear that, Al." Ed and Alex have about 30 years between them but got along like they had gone to university with one another—a fraternity of brothers. You often felt work was a good ol' boys' club, even if Ed was a great boss and the company was diverse, the upper management mainly consisted of men. 

"Her loss," Elizabeth remarks.

The comment makes you burst into laughter again. You're flushed with red before you have time even to catch yourself. All eyes were at the table directly at you from the sudden outburst. You cover your mouth with your napkin again. "I'm sorry. I'm so sorry."

"You alright, little lady?" Ed asks.

You clear your throat one too many times for anyone to believe the act. "Yeah, yeah. Yes. I'm sorry. Ignore me."

"Nonsense," Ed dismisses. "Your father doing okay?" That's the kind of boss Ed was. Your father had several bouts with his health that caused him to be hospitalized a few times this past year. Ed was always forgiving with your work attendance.

You dip a hand in your glass of cold ice water and tap your wet fingers on your hot cheeks. "Yes, yes. He's been feeling much better this past month."

Ed cheers, "Excellent. Please give him my best." He lifts his wine glass up in acknowledgment.

"Yes, mine too." Your eyes dart across the table. Alex is leaning back in his chair, that burning cigarette in the ashtray the restaurant provided—you wonder how much he paid them to allow him to smoke in here—and his glass up in the air.

You nod silently and dive back into your dish. Your cheeks are still flushed with mild humiliation but also smiling at the hilarity of it all.

Elizabeth sighs beside you and whispers, "Well, he's looking at you now."

You lift your head, your eyes meeting his, locked in a stare. You swallow your food and lean yourself forward on your elbows on the table. "I'm sorry. I'm not laughing at you," you try to assure Alex. "Just something Elizabeth said."

He waves away your apology. A smile cracks upon his lips. "That's alright. You can laugh at my misfortune if you want to."

You shake your head. "I wouldn't do that. At least I don't think I would."

His smile grows wider. The heat on your cheeks forces you to disappear into your glass of wine. He lifts his cigarette to his lips. You feel entranced by the smoke as you watch him exhale through the blur of wine. He's chatting away with Ben again, making him laugh at some joke you didn't hear. You've never not been intrigued by him. You just didn't think he was ever intrigued by you.

You filter through conversations with Elizabeth and listen to Ed's ramblings but your eyes always return to the man across the table. You swear he must have unbuttoned his shirt a button or two. His chest is exposed deeper. The chain around his neck is more visible and the pale skin of his chest unclothed. It was all a hypnosis wheel. 

Ed orders dessert for the table. Tiramisu. You feast away on your small cut. You lick your spoon eagerly tasting the mascarpone mixture. You feel his eyes on you and it ignites a lust in you that's undeniable. You're reminded that hate sex is the greatest form of passion. Well, you don't really hate him but you can fake it if it makes the sex that much better.

"Did you know tiramisu means 'pick me up'?" The question isn't necessarily directed at anyone, but your eyes are on him.

He has a trace of cocoa powder in the corner of his lips. It makes you giggle. You're becoming more and more endeared by it. You're convinced it's due to your newfound desire to bed him tonight. "No. I didn't know that one," he answered.

"It was created for pleasure-seekers." You try your best to pierce him with your gaze. "Ladyfingers is such an interesting name for a dessert. Who'd want to imagine eating fingers with cream?"

He chuckles at the remark before sinking back into his dessert. He glances up with a smirk and you return with a tight-lipped smile.

*

Ed leaves after dessert, paying for the tab causing his employees to cheer for him as he exits. Various people scatter. Some for the bar. Some head home. Some, like you, lean back in their chairs. You copy Alex's carefree mannerisms. Your hand fiddles with the stem of your wine glass. If you focus for long enough you think you could bore holes through his clothes.

Suddenly, Alex stands up and rounds the table. He stands before you. His hand grazes the empty chair Jeff left. "May I?"

"I don't owe the chair. By all means," you invite.

He places his glass down first, instantly forming a watermark on the cloth tablecloth. He pulls the chair out far enough for it to be turned to face you. He sits in it silently and takes a sip from his glass. 

"I liked that project of yours," he complimented with another swiss of alcohol.

You can't help the smile forced upon your cheeks but you narrow your eyes. "My part or Jeff's part?"

Alex scoffed, "Jeff's a dickhead." You split into a peal of laughter, forcing you to cover your mouth once again. It incites a laugh from Alex too. "You've got a nice laugh."

You sip your wine to diminish the last ripples of giggles. "Oh, stop it. I've got a witch cackle going on."

He shakes his head. His hair is less styled than it was at work, growing unkempt as the evening has dragged on. It bounces with his movements. "No, no. It adds character. It's contagious."

You shrug. "Well, okay."

For the first time, you notice he has these beautiful eyes: downturned and brown. It's hard not to—the man gives good eye contact. "You're a good talker."

You snigger. "I'm pretty sure Jeff did all the talking."

Alex points a finger out from his hand wrapped around his glass. "Exactly."

His knee brushes up against yours. He doesn't seem to notice, but you sure do. The fabric of his suit feels luxurious against your bare skin. You're not sure what overtakes you. His eyes. His words. His hair. His hands. His knee. You reach down and place your delicate hand on his knee. A smirk covers his face and his eyes gaze longingly at you but he doesn't say anything. "Thank you, I suppose," you tell him.

Alex leans forward. His body practically huddles around you. If you wanted, you could nest in him. Take harbor in his suit jacket and stay there hibernating through winter. "Not sure if I'm allowed to say this," he whispers in your ear.

You turn your head and if you were an inch closer your lips would graze his. It might not be the most proper thing for him to hit on his subordinate. It wouldn't be right for him to leave you hungry either. "Go ahead."

He places his hand on your bare inner thigh, just above your knee. It's cold, still chilling from the glass. It's orgasmic, its effects. "Do you know how fucking hot you look?" His earnest tone makes you emit a horny giggle. "Seriously, pretty sure you're a pick-me-up."

"I could probably sue you for that," you joke.

His hand travels further. "Yeah, you probably should. I'm a piece of shit."

"We'll probably get fired if we move any closer to one another."

He pulls back slightly. "You mean, you don't want me to fuck you in front of HR?"

*

In the haze between the restaurant and his bed, you lost your dress and he lost his pants. He grabs your ass picking you up for long enough for you to land your back against his soft duvet. He tries to blanket you with his body but you stick your leg up, pressing your foot into his chest. "Lose the jacket," you command.

Alex is quick to shed. He wraps his hand around your ankle and lifts the foot to his lips, kissing the heel, then the ankle, slowly puckering his way to your center as he kisses your shin. He drops the leg and undoes the rest of his shirt, leaving him in just his underwear. You watch, propped up on your elbows in your lacy bra and panties. 

He covers you like a dark cloud about to rain down on you. His lips are softer than you imagined and his hands that caress their way up you are as rough as you imagined. His kiss is dominating and his figure is pining you down like you're on a bulletin board. His hand grazes over your clothed cunt. You moan into his mouth.

He pulls back and stands up completely. "Take it off." He gestures to your chest and his pussy.

You reach around and undo the hook. You slip your bra off and toss it off the bed. You reach down to the hem of your underwear but stop before pulling it off. "You too."

Alex listens, discarding his underwear on the wood floor. "You're a bossy bitch," he says. You let out a delighted giggle. "I fucking love it."

"I want to suck your cock," you announce. You sit up on your knees but wait for him to move toward you.

He puts his hands on his hips. "Okay, fuck." He comes closer and you crawl toward him. You wrap your hands around his shaft.

You look at him, eagerly. "Spit in my mouth," you say, leaning your head back and widening your mouth.

He looks slightly stunned but a smirk takes over his face. He wraps his hand around your neck and leans down, spitting directly onto your tongue. "You're a little slut, huh?" He asks it like a serious question as if you're sitting down for a job interview.

You shrug and take him into your mouth. He sighs as if letting out a breath that he's been forced to hold all night. You pop him off your lips and say, "You can decide at the end of the night."

He's large in your mouth. Your tongue moves around him in your mouth as you move up and back. His face is controted in pleasure and you're determined to continue it for as long as possible. You want to suck him dry. To take everything in him for yourself.

He has other thoughts. Roughly, he yanks you off of him by your hair. You land on your back, staring up at him like a beetle on its back unable to turn over. "I don't like you very much, you know," you tell him.

Alex snickers. "I know." It's a word battle of who can turn the other one on more with their insults. His hands move their way down your thighs and soon, his mouth follows. Alex buries his head between your legs. He starts off slow, lazily flicking his tongue around your heat, as if to test it. You shake at his touch, moaning and grinding your hips towards him, begging him to keep going. 

He scoffs, "You're so desperate." He trails his fingertips up your body, barely touching anything, soft strokes causing heat to gather. His tongue dances around your clit, teasing you, before finally giving in and allowing it his full attention. You tremble and he adjusts to a faster rhythm, a stronger pressure, finding just the right angle to make you quiver so hard he needs to hold your legs in place.

You're on the edge, arching your back, ready to fall over, when he suddenly lifts himself from your center and backs away to the foot of the bed. You groan and flatten out. "You're a fucking jerk, Turner."

He chuckles evilly. "Calm down, love." It brings a rare affection to the whole exchange. Of course, two seconds later he pulls you closer to the edge by your legs and flips you over, slipping a few fingers in you just for good measure. The thought of Alex fucking you right now is almost more than you can bare; the satisfied laugh he lets out only adds fuel to the fire.

He bends himself over to grab your breasts. You can feel his cock grinding against your ass, the pressure in your cunt growing with each passing second. You push back against him and he tightens his grip on your waist. Finally, he enters your dripping, throbbing cunt. Then, he slaps your ass. It's light. Probably won't even make the skin red but it makes you gasp, which encourages him more. 

He's bucking into you in such a provoking fashion it makes you loudly moan. He's stretching you out in a glorious way that adds such fervency to the pattern in which you're fucking one another. You're reassured that you feel as good for him as he does for you when he lets out a noisy, "Fuck."

Alex is holding onto your shoulders as he pounds into you from behind, each thrust making it even more intoxicated. He thrusts slowly, hitting the spot, his fingers digging into your hips. His cock slicked wet, covered in you. He grunts, pounding with more force.

He pulls out, flipping you over again. You wrap your legs around his back when he enters you again, groaning at the feeling of his hard cock once again meeting your warm pussy. He moves deeper, pushing himself all the way in. He leers over you and says, "I want to come in your mouth. Can I do that?"

You nod, trying to catch your breath. "Yeah, but can you make come first?"

"Fuck yes." His pace is brutal but charged. You're clawing and desperate. You don't think you've ever been this desperate before. He's caused something in you that you can't label. He's shaking, trembling, and losing his rhythm. He's sucked you in and you're panting before he hits that back pocket and has you collapsing. 

He lets you ride out your high with your hips shaking around and your back arching before he pulls out of you. "Come here." He points to the floor below his cock that he is palming. You drop off the bed to your knees and hold your hands on his hips as he pumps himself. He shoots spurts out of himself landing on your tongue. As he comes, you pull yourself forward, shoving him down your throat as he finishes. His fingers claw in your hair and he's moaning and grunting curses out. 

His grip softens and you fall back onto your butt with a sigh. "Holy shit."

Alex chuckles and reaches down to help you stand up. "Good?"

The room is filled with panting and you decide to shrug your shoulders instead of verbally responding. He chuckles and slips off into the bathroom.

You stand in his room, naked and unsure of what to do. Your skin feels cold now that it's lacking his touch. You're unsure what to do. Whether to slip around the covers or slip out. You have plans tomorrow so it seems logical to go home.

You dress yourself and meet him at the door of his bathroom. "Oh," he utters.

"I'm gonna head home."

He nods. He has slipped boxers on and looks so meek. The power that he possessed in his suit is lost. He just looks small and soft. "Okay. You're welcome to stay."

You shake your head. "I should get home. I have some things I have to do early tomorrow."

"Okay."

"I'll see you at work on Monday."

"Yeah, yeah. Have a good weekend."

"Yeah. You too."

*

You want to be a siren. You won't lie that your attire on Monday wasn't intentional, wearing the shortest skirt you can get away with to the office. It covers you enough for when you bend over but it doesn't leave much to the imagination. Besides, it's Monday, a day you spend mostly in your cubicle so there's little need to dress a certain way. You've come in hungover and in your pajamas on Mondays before so a short skirt and a tight white shirt will make little difference.

You find him in the copy room. You're collecting your printed work and he is standing with a mug of coffee, leaning over one of the copiers. You watch his back. His shoulders are high and his finger firmly jabs the digital screen on the copier repeatably. 

"Do you need help?" You're not sure why you ask it. You had intended to stay silent and collect your work but he's muttering to himself and you take pity on the poor guy.

Alex turns quickly to look at you. He blinks a few times and takes a deep breath. "Uh, no. I think I got it."

You giggle at his flustered behavior. "Okay."

It seems to soften things and put a smile on your face as you walk to the printer to collect your items. You look over and his finger continues to hit the screen. His face is contoured with frustration. "You sure you don't need any help?"

"No, I just..." he sighs and steps back. "I just can't get the thing to copy."

You place your stack of papers down and look over. The screen is on the copy page and you press okay. The machine buzzes and begins to scan his paper. You look back and he's looking at you all sheepishly. "You've worked here how long and you don't know how to work the copier?" 

A smile seems to come to his face as you laugh at him. "I usually have Jess do it." Right, his assisstant. "She's out sick today."

"Do you need any more help?" You offer.

He shakes his head slowly. "No, no. I'm good. Thanks. Thank you."

"No problem," you tell him, picking up your stack of papers.

You head for the door when he says, "You look nice today." You turn around and his back is to you again. His shoulders are down. The tense that was once there has dissolved away. He's cocky again.

"Thank you."

He turns around slowly to full face you. He leans his back against the copier. "What about me?"

You ask dryly, "What about you?"

"Aw, come on," Alex says. "I can't be so bad. I wore my nice shirt today for you." He's got a white button-down on. It looks exactly like the one he wore on Friday and you can't tell if he's mocking you or being truthful.

You bite your lip. "You look handsome."

"Well," he looks down at his shoes, "I like that skirt of yours that you're wearing." Alex feigns this shyness like he can't look you in the eyes. Then, he'll stare you down and tell you he wants to fuck you. It's very contrasting.

"Uh-huh," you sound. "You're very assertive."

He lets out a chuckle. "Is that what we're calling it now?"

You narrow your eyes. "You are the one hitting on me in the copier room."

Alex hums. "Yeah." He grabs his copies and walks over to you. "That's interesting." He grazes by you, passing you, and opening the door.

"What are you getting at?" You ask.

He turns back. The door is only open a crack but his head peeks through just right in the open slot. His smirk grows and that glint in his eyes only grows brighter. "I like your skirt." He ducks out.

You're forced to stand still, taking a moment to digest what has occurred (and drench the thirst he's left). You shake him off your mind and head back to your cubicle. 

*

An hour later, a knock sounds on your cubicle's wall. You turn and there's Alex.

He invites himself in, not that there is much room to be "invited in." He leans against the edge of your desk. "I'd really like to touch base with you," he says.

"I'd really like that, too," you say, tempted to tell him to move his ass, and continue, "But I'm just swamped with this right now."

He glances at the Amazon website open on your computer and you nearly bury your face in your hands—rookie mistake. 

He looks amused by the display. You feel like a child making up excuses to not do their homework, but you can't avoid him forever, that much you know. 

"Ten minutes, I swear," he says.

You cock your head back. "Oh, I think you finish a lot quicker than that."

Relief washes over that he laughs at that. You're desperate for things to not grow more awkward. "I remember things differently. But seriously."

You sigh, "Alright, lead the way."

His office smells like him. Cologne, coffee, and cigarettes. There are unfinished mugs of coffee scattered around the room. He has no pictures on his desk, the height of mystery, but has several posters on the wall of projects he has worked on. He sits down in his desk chair and gestures for you to stand beside him so he can show you something on his computer.

You follow his hands, his pointed finger, as he explains his idea to you. Your head is filled with much different thoughts that don't concern the project or work. He's asked you a question, he's looking up at you waiting for an answer, he's calling your name, and all you can think about are his lips.

You lean down and kiss him, trying to fuse some idea in him through the transmission of lips. He wraps his arms around your waist and to fix the height difference with him sitting down and you bent over he pulls you into his lap. You swing your legs over to straddle him and he whispers into you, "We really shouldn't be doing this at work."

"I know," you whisper back. "But I've only ever had a cubicle before and I'm taking advantage of a closed door."

He's kissing down your neck and any concern about what you're doing or about to do at work seems to fade into the background. "Well, what do you want me to do? Do you want me to fuck you on my desk? I don't think we'd get away with that."

"You want to finger me under my skirt?" You offer.

He kisses up to your ear, his teeth fiddling with your earlobe. "What about what I want?"

"Oh," you sigh, "I think this is what you want."

And then, Alex's fingers slip under your skirt, under your silk panties, finding your slit with ease. He breathes a silent groan against your neck as he slips a finger inside your pussy. He comments on the wetness. "Anticipating this, huh?" Sliding in and out, in and out with ease. He slowly draws his hand back up, rubbing soft circles around your clit. You tremble, swirling her hips against him in a matching rhythm.

If it hadn't before, all thought goes out the window. 

Alex pushes your skirt up around your waist. He lifts you both up, propping you on his desk. You gasp when he guides you to spread your legs further apart, pushing in two fingers and then three. You're arching back and shaking with pleasure, so he goes in deeper and harder. He curls his fingers inside, which causes you to grab a tight hold of his neck, moaning in his ear.

You can feel his boner rub up against you and you're certain you've knocked over his cup full of pens. He slides his hand up your dripping core, slowly moving his fingers up and down your clit. You jerk forward, and he holds you steady, quickening the pace. He hits the spot just right and he keeps hitting it and hitting it. "Don't stop," you beg and he doesn't.

Your whole body jerks forward as the orgasm rips through you. You hold yourself up against his shoulders as you try to catch her breath. "Fuck," you exhale. You relinquish your hold on him and let go. "I've never done anything like that before."

"What? Orgasm?"

You laugh and push him back. You notice the protruding boner in his pants. "No, have sex in a place that could get me fired."

"Oh," he laughs.

Your eyes widen at his reaction. "You've had sex at the office before. Ew. I think I should report this to HR."

"Hush now. Let's just say a lot happened before you worked here."

"Yuck," you let out again.

Alex sits back in his chair with a dramatic sigh. "I've never gotten a blowjob here before."

You snort. "Subtle."

Alex moves his hands down and undoes his belt. He pulls his zipper down and looks up at you like a cocky little bastard. 

You nod. "Real subtle. Shall I grab Ben to take care of that for you?"

"Come on. A bit quid pro quo." He exposes his dick, laying hard on top of his zipper.

"That is definitely sexual harassment," you say as you get on your knees.

You take him in your mouth and it feels just as good as it did on Friday, except it's different. It's softer and he isn't forcing your head down on him, instead rubbing the back of it, fidgeting with the tips of your hair. He moans and you're more determined than ever to taste him again.

"You feel so fucking good," he tells you. 

You dive into him, taking him to the back of your throat. Your nose brushes his pubic hair, something that tends to be unappealing, except he smells nice. Something you find even weirder. You suck on him like he's a bottomless mimosa brunch. You lick him like a melting popsicle on the hottest day of the year. You want to consume all of him, but you'll take just this part.

He's close, grunting and pulsing in your mouth. There's agony and pleasure written across his face. His cum washes down your throat. This time you taste it on your tongue. It lingers as you swallow it down. He is slumped against his chair. His head is thrown back and he looks blissed out. You stand and tuck him back in his pants for him. He kisses your elbow as a thank you. "That'll get me through my meeting with Jeff." 

"You better not be doing that with Jeff."

*

a/n: i don't mean for all my fics to have semi-public sex or whatever, they just do.

wish there was a market for a wallows fic because unfortunately my brain has been ROTTED by cole preston

Hiding Tonight

watching alex take care of your daughter for the evening

warnings: dad!alex, fluff

word count: 5k

“Ugh, you’re so sweaty.” you murmured with a teasing smile, burying your face in his chest despite the heat clinging to him.

The familiar scent of him mixed with the warmth of the day, but it didn’t bother you. Not when it meant he was finally home. Your fingers instinctively threaded through his damp hair, the strands slipping through your touch as you stood on your toes, eager to feel as close to him as possible.

No matter what you were doing, no matter how long he’d been gone, you always ran to greet him with a hug the moment he stepped through the door.

“Sorry, it was really hot on the tube.” he replied, his voice laced with a trace of guilt as he gently pulled away from you. His eyes twinkled, though, as they met yours. “But I’m sure someone else won’t mind.” he added with a grin, glancing down just as a pair of tiny arms wrapped around his leg.

Behind you, the little one had toddled up, her small hands gripping onto his calf with the same excitement that you had shown him, her face lighting up at the sight of her father. She could barely reach above his knee, but it didn’t deter her in the slightest.

Alex’s expression softened instantly, the exhaustion from the day melting away as he bent down. He crouched to her level, one knee touching the floor as he reached out to her with a tenderness that always made your heart flutter. His long fingers carefully found their way to her sides, and in one smooth motion, he lifted her up into his arms. She squealed in delight, her laughter filling the room as she clung to him, her tiny legs swinging freely in the air.

“You don’t mind me being sweaty, do you?” he asked, his tone playful yet gentle as he balanced her on his hip. The question was rhetorical, of course. The little one’s face was beaming, her wide eyes reflecting pure adoration as she gazed up at him.

You watched as Alex lowered his head slightly, bringing his face close to hers. He extended a finger and softly tapped the tip of her button nose. Her nose was so small, his fingertip fit perfectly into the curve of it, and she scrunched it up, giggling as he repeated the motion, pretending to be amazed each time.

“See? She doesn’t mind at all.” he said, glancing back at you with a smile that reached his eyes, filled with nothing but love for the both of you.

With the little one still propped securely on his hip, Alex straightened up, her tiny hands clutching onto his shirt as he started walking toward the kitchen. You followed closely behind, a warm smile playing on your lips as you watched the two of them together. The sight of him holding her so effortlessly always filled you with a sense of contentment.

As Alex stepped into the kitchen, he moved with ease, despite his one-armed hold on the little one. He headed straight for the fruit bowl sitting on the counter, his eyes scanning its contents before he reached out and grabbed one of the few bananas left, shifting the little one slightly higher on his hip. It was a familiar routine. You could almost predict the moment when he’d reach it. He never failed to grab one first thing after getting home.

They never lasted long in the house. Both him and your daughter had a weakness for them. And they always seemed to disappear faster than you could keep up with, often long before they had a chance to ripen properly.

“Look at that.” Alex mused, holding the banana up and giving it a gentle squeeze. “Still a bit green, just how I like them.” He flashed you a grin as he gestured with the banana in your direction, a playful glint in his eyes. “We need to get more of these.” he added, raising an eyebrow at you.

You chuckled softly, leaning back against the edge of the sofa that stood just across from him. “I’ll get some tomorrow.” you promised, folding your arms as you perched yourself more comfortably, your gaze never leaving him. You liked watching him like this, in the mundane moments of just the three of you simply being there.

“Good.” he nodded, turning his attention back to the banana. He began to fiddle with it, realising quickly that he couldn’t manage the peeling with one hand occupied by your daughter, who was still contently resting against his side, her head nestled into the curve of his neck. He glanced at you with a half-smile. “Can you help me peel it? Kinda got my hands full over here.” he asked, tilting his head slightly towards the little one.

With a fond sigh, you rose from your spot and made your way over to him. The moment it was free, Alex wasted no time. He immediately took a big bite, nearly inhaling half of it in one go.

“God, I’m fucking starving.” he mumbled through a mouthful, his voice muffled as he chewed.

“Alexander!” you scolded, your tone stern but laced with amusement. “You need to stop swearing around her.”

He paused mid-chew, his eyes widening slightly as he registered your words. Then, with an exaggerated expression of guilt, he swallowed and muttered, “Sorry.” before taking another, more modest bite. The little one, oblivious to the exchange, simply watched him, her eyes wide with curiosity and affection.

You couldn’t help but laugh softly at the scene, shaking your head as you returned to your seat. Despite his sometimes careless language you often had to remind him of now that she was getting older and starting to understand more, you knew Alex adored his role as a father, just as much as he adored you.

Alex smiled softly at the little one in his arms, holding up the half-eaten banana to her tiny face. “Want a bite, love?” he offered, his voice gentle and inviting.

She wrinkled her nose and shook her head, her eyes growing heavy as she leaned back against his chest. You could see her small body beginning to relax, the energy from earlier slowly fading away.

“She’s getting sleepy.” you observed, a tender smile forming on your lips.

“Yeah, me too.” Alex sighed, leaning against the counter for support, still cradling her securely. He took a final bite of the banana, finishing it off before tossing the peel into the bin. “It was pretty rough today. Didn’t get much done.” he admitted, his voice dropping slightly, a hint of frustration seeping into his words.

You moved closer, sensing that there was more on his mind. Gently, you rested a hand on his arm, your thumb rubbing small circles. “What’s wrong?” you asked softly,

He hesitated for a moment, glancing down at the little one in his arms as if considering his words carefully. “I don’t know.” he began, his voice quiet. “Just...a bit disappointed, I guess.”

You could see the weariness in his eyes, the way his shoulders slumped just a little more than usual. It wasn’t often that he let these feelings show. He didn’t like talking about his work much, and you didn’t press him about it unless he opened up first.

“Disappointed in what?” you pressed gently, wanting to understand what was bothering him.

He exhaled deeply, his eyes distant as he tried to put his feelings into words. “It’s like…I had all these ideas in my head, things I wanted to work on, but nothing seemed to come together. I kept trying, but I just couldn’t get it right. And now the day’s over, and I don’t have much to show for it.”

You nodded, understanding the frustration he must have felt. Alex was always driven, always pushing himself to create and to do more. When things didn’t go the way he envisioned, it tended to weigh him down even further.

“It’s okay.” you said softly, reaching up to brush a stray lock of hair away from his forehead. “Not every day has to be perfect.”

He looked at you, his eyes reflecting a mixture of gratitude and lingering doubt. “I know, but it’s hard not to feel like I’m wasting time, you know? Like I should be doing more to make up for it.”

You squeezed his arm gently, letting him know you were there with him. “You’re not wasting time, Alex. You’re allowed to have days like this. You’ll find your rhythm again. And even when it feels like you’re not making progress, you are. Just being there, showing up, that’s already something.”

He let out a small, tired chuckle, the tension in his expression easing slightly as he looked at you. “Thanks.” he murmured, leaning in to press a soft kiss to your forehead.

You smiled at Alex, brushing your fingers through the soft hair on your daughter’s head, the strands fine and delicate beneath your touch. “I should get her ready for bed.” you said, your voice low and tender. “She needs a bath, too. I made some food earlier if you wanna eat.”

He shook his head, a small, appreciative smile playing on his lips. “I’m fine now. Actually, do you mind if I give her the bath? I need to wash up anyway, and I missed her today. Didn’t get to spend much time with her.”

The sincerity in his voice touched you, and you nodded immediately. “Of course, yeah. You should. Go get the water started, and I’ll bring her up in a minute. I’ll grab her towel and everything else she needs.”

He grinned, his eyes brightening at the thought. “Is it the bear one?” he asked, a hint of excitement in his tone.

You couldn’t help but chuckle, knowing exactly which one he meant. “Yes, it’s the bear one.” you confirmed.

“She looks so cute in that one.” Alex’s eyes softened at the thought, his smile widening.

The towel he was referring to was one of her favourites. Yellow with a hood that had little ears on top, meant to resemble Winnie the Pooh, though Alex always forgot the name. But it didn’t matter. To him, she was simply adorable wrapped up in it.

Gently, Alex shifted his grip on her, carefully manoeuvring so you could take her from his arms. She was barely awake now, her eyes drooping as she relaxed into your hold. As soon as she was safely in your arms, Alex moved to take off his blazer. He slipped it off his shoulders, folding it neatly before draping it over the back of one of the kitchen chairs, a habitual neatness in his actions.

You watched him for a moment, admiring the ease with which he moved, the quiet care he always took in the simplest of tasks. It was one of those little things you loved about him. How even in moments like this, when he was tired and worn out, he still took the time to do things properly, as if it was his second nature.

With his blazer set aside, Alex turned back to you, his hand reaching out to gently brush your arm before you both headed upstairs.

As you reached the bathroom, you handed your daughter back to Alex, who cradled her with a tenderness that always made your heart swell. He kissed her forehead softly, then looked to you with a contented smile. “I’ll take it from here.” he said, his voice warm and steady.

“Alright.” you replied, returning his smile as you handed over the towel and her pyjamas, everything she’d need after her bath. “I’ll be right outside if you need anything.”

He nodded, his eyes already focused on the task at hand as he gently set her down and began to fill the tub with warm water. As you stepped back to give them some space, you couldn’t help but linger for just a moment longer, watching as Alex dipped his hand into the water to check the temperature, his face lighting up with a soft smile as he spoke quietly to your daughter.

As you turned to leave the bathroom, a sudden wave of affection welled up inside you, making you hesitate at the doorway. You glanced back at Alex, your heart softening at the sight of them. “Do you mind if I stay?” you asked, your voice gentle, almost shy. You knew how much you cherished these moments. Watching them together was something you never wanted to miss.

At the same time, Alex had begun to unbutton his shirt, his fingers moving deftly down the row of buttons. He paused slightly, as if ready to answer you, but you spoke again before he could. “I can leave if you want some alone time with her.” you added quickly, not wanting to intrude.

But Alex shook his head, his hands still working on the last few buttons as he pulled the shirt free from where it was neatly tucked into his jeans. “Of course you can stay.” he said, a warm smile tugging at the corners of his lips as he shrugged the shirt off his shoulders and let it fall to the floor. He’d get it into the laundry later. His fingers moved to his belt next, unbuckling it before slipping out of his jeans and leaving them in a neat pile on the chair by the sink.

“Okay then.” you agreed softly, feeling a wave of contentment wash over you. “I’ll get her ready.”

You moved closer to your daughter, your hands gentle and careful as you began to undress her. She was already starting to outgrow her clothes, you realised with a twinge of nostalgia. She was growing up so fast, even though she still insisted on wearing nappies despite being fully potty trained. It was just another one of those little quirks that made her who she was, and you couldn’t help but smile as you gently tugged the last one off.

As you busied yourself with her, you noticed Alex out of the corner of your eye, glancing at himself in the mirror above the sink. He stretched, leaning in closer as if inspecting his reflection, his expression contemplative. You could see him run a hand over his jawline, feeling the rough stubble that had started to grow in over the day.

“Do you think I should shave?” he asked, his voice thoughtful as he continued to study his reflection, the muscles in his back shifting subtly as he moved.

You looked over at him fully now, taking in the sight of him. The way the soft light played across his skin, the stubble giving him a slightly rugged look. “You don’t have to,” you replied, “I love how your beard feels.”

He turned his head slightly, catching your gaze in the mirror, a small, appreciative smile forming on his lips. “Yeah?” he asked, a hint of playful curiosity in his voice.

“Yeah.” you confirmed with a nod, your smile widening. There was something about the way he looked right now, comfortable in his own skin, relaxed and at ease. It wasn’t just his appearance. It was everything he was, everything he did for you and your daughter. Every little moment like this, no matter how small, reminded you of why you fell in love with him in the first place.

Satisfied with your answer, Alex turned his attention back to the task at hand, giving you a nod of thanks before leaning down to check the water temperature one more time. Satisfied, he straightened up, his gaze briefly meeting yours with a small, appreciative smile. With a slight shift in his stance, he hooked his thumbs into the waistband of his underwear, the final piece of clothing he was wearing. He slid them down his hips and legs, stepping out of them with the same easy grace he always seemed to carry. He draped them over the shirt, to be thrown into the wash later.

He reached out for your daughter, who was now ready for her bath, her sleepy eyes brightening just a little at the prospect of getting into the warm water. As you handed her over, you couldn’t help but watch them both, the way Alex’s large hands gently cradled her tiny body as he lowered himself into the bath with her.

You found yourself lingering, soaking in every detail, every gesture. You didn’t want to miss a single second of this. Of them.

Alex gently scooted your daughter to the other side of the tub, knowing the routine by heart. First came the playtime, a sacred part of the evening, before the more practical tasks like washing her hair and scrubbing her little feet. He smiled down at her as she settled into her spot, the water splashing softly around her as she got comfortable.

With one hand keeping her steady, he reached over to the side of the tub, where a small collection of bath toys sat waiting. He carefully picked them up, one by one, and placed them into the water around her, creating a small, colourful world that she could dive into. The familiar sound of plastic toys clinking together filled the room as they floated around her, waiting to be played with.

Your daughter’s eyes lit up as she reached for one of her favourite toys, a little yellow duck that always seemed to make her smile. She squeezed it in her tiny hands, laughing softly as it made a squeaky noise, the sound echoing off the bathroom tiles.

Alex watched her with a fond smile, his heart swelling at the simple joy she found in the smallest of things. He reached for another toy from the same set, a small, green frog with big, round eyes, and held it up, his voice gentle as he asked, “Mind if I play with you too, love?”

She looked up at him, her expression bright and eager, as if the idea of playing with her dad was the best thing in the world. She nodded enthusiastically, her smile widening as she extended the duck towards him, offering it as if to say ‘you can have this one’.

Alex chuckled softly, taking the duck from her with one hand while holding the frog in the other. “Thank you.” he said, his voice filled with warmth. “Alright, Mr. Frog and Mr. Duck are going on an adventure together. Where should they go first?”

Your daughter giggled, pointing to the other end of the tub where the rest of the toys had gathered. Without missing a beat, Alex guided the two toys through the water, making them bob up and down as if they were swimming. He added a few playful sound effects, much to her delight, as they made their way across the tub, creating an entire story for her to follow.

You stood there, watching them play. There was something magical about these simple moments, the way they connected in the little joys of life. You could see the love in Alex’s eyes, the way he fully immersed himself in her world, making her feel like the most important person in the universe.

As he continued guiding the toys through their imaginary adventure, he playfully splashed himself with water, the droplets landing on his chest and face. He closed his eyes for a moment, squeezing them tightly before opening them wide and blinking a few times, trying to shake off the fatigue that had settled in.

“Tired?” you asked softly, noticing the way his shoulders slumped just a little.

He nodded, looking over at you. “Yeah.” he admitted. But there was no complaint in his tone, just a simple acknowledgment. He glanced down at your daughter, who was still completely absorbed in her play, and then back at you. “Come here,” he said, his smile widening as he gestured for you to join them, “Sit with us instead of standing at the door.”

You felt your heart warm at the invitation, and without hesitation, you moved closer, crossing the room to sit down on the floor right next to the tub. The tiles felt cool against your legs.

As soon as you were seated, Alex reached out towards you, shaking off the excess water from his hand before gently running his fingers through your hair. His touch was tender, his fingers sliding through the strands, just as he’d done it a thousand times before. He scratched lightly at your scalp, his movements slow and soothing, and you couldn’t help but close your eyes for a moment, leaning into his touch.

“Thanks for being here.” he said quietly, his hand still gently massaging your scalp. There was a hint of vulnerability in his voice, as if this little moment of connection meant more to him than he could put into words.

“Of course.” you replied, reaching up to cover his hand with yours. “I wouldn’t want to be anywhere else.”

He smiled at that, the kind of smile that made you feel like everything was exactly as it should be. You both turned your attention back to your daughter, who was still playing happily with her toys, completely unaware of the quiet exchange between the two of you.

You knew it was time to start winding down. “Sweetheart,” you said gently, leaning forward a bit, “It’s getting late. We need to get you clean before bed.”

She looked up at you, a little pout forming on her lips, but she didn’t protest. Alex, already a step ahead, began gathering the bath toys, his movements unhurried. He placed them back on the side of the tub, each one making a small splash as it left the water, except for the little yellow duck, which he let her keep in her hand. She clung to it, her tiny fingers wrapped around it tightly.

“Hold on to Mr. Duck.” Alex said with a warm smile, turning her around so that her back was to him, her head resting gently against his chest. “We’ll make sure he gets nice and clean, too.”

His hands were gentle as he cupped the back of her head, his fingers already familiar with the routine. He reached for the bottle of shampoo, squeezing a small amount into his palm before rubbing his hands together to lather it up. He carefully worked the shampoo through her hair, his fingers moving in slow, circular motions, massaging her scalp.

He started to hum a soft melody. The sound was low and soothing, filling the small bathroom with a warmth that made the moment feel even more intimate. The tune was unfamiliar to you, a simple, almost hypnotic series of notes, but you knew Alex well enough to recognize that this was likely one of his own compositions, a melody born from quiet moments like this, where the love he felt seemed to overflow.

You watched as he hummed softly, his eyes focused on your daughter as he gently massaged her scalp, making sure to be careful around the edges of her hairline. Even in the smallest of tasks, he poured his whole self into it, always making sure she felt safe and loved.

Your daughter, who had been on the verge of sleepiness just moments before, seemed to relax even more under his touch, her eyes fluttering shut as she let the warmth of the bath and the comfort of his presence lull her into a peaceful state.

As Alex finished rinsing the last of the shampoo from her hair, his humming trailed off into a soft sigh, the sound of the water the only noise left in the room. He looked over at you, a peaceful, almost sleepy smile on his face, and you returned it with one of your own.

He reached for the washcloth, wetting it before lathering it with a bit of soap. With the same tenderness he’d shown while washing her hair, Alex gently scrubbed your daughter’s small arms, her back, and finally her little legs, careful not to miss a spot. She barely stirred, so at ease in the safe haven of his arms that she seemed content to drift off right there in the tub.

Once she was fully clean, Alex cupped his hand to gather some of the bathwater, carefully rinsing the soap from her skin. The water cascaded over her in small streams, washing away the suds until she was completely clean. Satisfied, he leaned back slightly as he turned to you, the question clear in his eyes before he even spoke.

“Why don’t I take her?” you offered, already reaching out for her. “So you can wash up too.”

Alex nodded, grateful for the offer, but there was a hint of reluctance in his eyes as he handed her over, clearly enjoying the precious time with her. As you gathered her into your arms, she nuzzled into you, her body warm and relaxed from the bath.

You gently wrapped her in the towel, making sure she was snug and dry. She looked up at you with sleepy eyes, her little hand clutching the edge of the towel as you whispered, “Say bye-bye to Daddy.”

“Bye-bye.” She lifted a small hand and waved it slowly, her movements drowsy and sweet. Alex returned the wave. You caught the warmth in his gaze and gave him a soft smile before you turned, slipping out of the bathroom and heading toward the bedroom.

As you closed the door behind you, the soft click of the latch seemed to seal the quiet contentment of the evening, leaving Alex alone in the bathroom to finish his routine.

After you left, he let out a quiet sigh, the kind that comes when you’re alone with your thoughts. He glanced down at the bathwater, noticing the little yellow duck still bobbing around, now forgotten by your daughter. Reaching out, he plucked it from the water, the tiny toy fitting easily in his hand.

For a moment, he just held it, absentmindedly turning it over in his fingers, the plastic squeaking faintly as his grip shifted. His gaze drifted somewhere far away, his thoughts wandering to the events of the day, the music that refused to come together, the exhaustion that weighed on him. The toy was a simple, silly thing, but holding it reminded him of more important things that really mattered.

Another sigh escaped him as he forced himself back to the present. He still had to finish washing up, and he wasn’t going to get there by staring at a bath toy. Gently, he set the duck on the edge of the tub, watching it wobble slightly before it settled.

He reached for the bottle of shampoo again, pausing for a moment as his hand hovered over the familiar label. It was your daughter’s shampoo, the one you always bought specifically for her because it was gentle on her hair and smelled like fresh baby powder and chamomile. It was more expensive than the others, and he knew you always got frustrated when it seemed to disappear too quickly, confused about how it could be used up so fast.

Of course, he’d never admit it, but he liked using it too. There was something comforting about it, because it reminded him of her. And if he was honest, it made his hair softer than anything else he’d ever tried.

With a slight smile tugging at the corner of his mouth, he squeezed a small amount into his hand, the familiar scent instantly filling the room again.

As he worked the shampoo through his hair, he couldn’t help but feel a little guilty for using something that was meant for your daughter, knowing it would lead to another one of those puzzled conversations about how it always seemed to finish too soon. But he also knew he wouldn’t stop. There was something about it that connected him to her, even in these quiet, solitary moments.

He leaned back, letting the warm water rinse away the suds, and for the first time all day, he felt truly at ease. The bathroom was silent now, save for the gentle patter of water.

He eventually sat up, feeling the last of the shampoo wash away, and then quickly set to work on washing his body. The routine motions, soaping up his arms, his chest, his legs, were methodical, almost automatic, as he focused on rinsing himself off head to toe one last time.

He reached for the large, soft towel that hung nearby, wrapping it around his hips, the thick fabric absorbing the droplets that clung to his skin, and stepped out of the tub, leaving behind the warmth of the water for the cool air of the bathroom.

The mirror was fogged up from the steam, so he wiped a clear patch with the side of his hand, revealing his reflection. His hair was still wet, obviously, dark and slicked back against his head, so he grabbed a comb from the countertop and ran it through his locks. He worked carefully, making sure it would dry just the way he liked. Neat, but not too styled.

He paused for a moment, his eyes drifting down to his face. The stubble that had caught his attention earlier in the evening was still there, a shadow of dark hair along his jaw and chin. He tilted his head slightly, running his hand along his jawline, considering whether to shave after all. But he remembered your words, the way you’d told him you loved how his beard felt, and he smiled to himself.

“Nah.” he murmured softly, letting his hand drop. He’d keep it, at least for now.

With one last glance in the mirror, he decided he was done. He turned off the light and stepped out of the bathroom, the warmth of the night and the softness of the towel around his hips welcoming him back into the comfort of the bedroom where both of his girls were waiting for him.

a/n: this feels so different from what I usually write (maybe because it is) but I don’t know…maybe i’m getting soft on him.

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

prettiest a human has ever looked

Blur For Tomorrow, 1993

𝐫𝐞𝐝 𝐫𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭 𝐡𝐚𝐧𝐝 | 𝐚𝐥𝐞𝐱 𝐭.

your first time on omegle wasn’t that bad.

warnings: male masturbation, a bit of exhibitionism and voyeurism.

word count: 2.2k

the idea came to my head when i was working, lately i've been struggling with writing. maybe i'll turn it into a little series, idk. hope you enjoy it :3

you never thought about joining omegle ever. you saw compiled videos of people who entered, a simple platform that connected people from different parts of the world. it seemed fun, a perfect pass time. besides, you could meet someone nice. not that you're looking for it in the first place, but it was something you would accept if it came along. 

but you were aware of the cons. your friends used to say that it was a trap, especially because of the perverts on duty. for every 10 people you find on omegle, at least 7 are men masturbating in front of the camera. a proper “hello, nice to meet you”.

anyway, you decide to take a shot. friday night, your parents went out for dinner and you had the whole house to yourself for the night, or at least until 11pm. it was the perfect opportunity, you didn't want to be interrupted or that your parents knew that you were talking to strangers on the internet.

you were in your bedroom, the dim lights of the lamp bring a more comfortable environment to your room. you closed the curtains, then went to your small table that you used to study, picked up your laptop and placed it on the mattress of your bed, right between your legs.

it didn't take long for your laptop to turn on. your eager fingers typed on the browser's search bar to access the website. you wondered if it would be a good idea to show your face on camera. maybe not at first. so, you took your laptop from between your legs, placing it next to you while you pulled the covers up to cover yourself up to your nose, leaving only the area around your eyes visible.

you didn't really know what to expect, if you could stay there for just 1 minute or 1 hour. but you were determined to try. because, besides being curious, you were bored.

without wasting much time, you clicked to enter the website.

almost 30 minutes and you only had a five minute conversation with a girl from wisconsin because she saw your poster on your wall. the rest, just disappointing, even disgusting. it was really impossible for you to skip to the next conversation with someone else without a cock appearing on your screen, almost slapping on your face, if it were possible.

at this point, your finger was glued to the mouse, just clicking to skip the chat, without even introducing yourself or letting others introduce themselves. then, when you clicked on the next one, already thinking about passing, you came across something a bit unusual, but not so different from what you had seen before in previous "conversations".

yeah, it was a guy masturbating, naturally. but in a way, it was different. it wasn't as explicit as the others; it was something more shy, more subtle. the lights in the room where he was were like the ones in your bedroom, dim and cozy, but they didn't leave much to the imagination because his monitor screen illuminated what was in front of you.

he must have had a laptop like you, but it wasn't in a bed, but on a desk, perfectly positioned so that he could sit in a comfortable chair on his side. his toned body wasn't very lit, leaving little to your imagination. his left hand was on the desk, probably to use the mouse or keyboard, while his right hand was lowered.

oh, you were mesmerized, even though you hated to admit it.

the way he was moving his right hand torturously slowly, showing so little. you could only see its pink tip glistening, his thumb sliding easily there in a caress while the other fingers were wrapped in the rest of his length that you couldn't see. and just like you, he wasn't showing his face. he was just there, touching himself slowly, his chest rising and falling in the same calm rhythm. somehow, you liked that. you didn't know if you should say something, if you should leave.

you felt like you were interrupting the moment, but hey, if he was there on omegle, he wanted to be seen, right?

your eyes watched him intently, until you saw his left hand typing something on the keyboard. soon, the message popped on the chat.

''too stunned to speak?''

you blinked a few times, shaking your head and deciding to answer him without typing on the chat.

''kinda.'' you replied shyly. he chuckled lowly.

''i can show you more if you want.'' he replied back, his voice was low too, a bit rough.

''i think it's good like this.'' you said and he hummed, not showing more than you wanted to see. well, at least he was respectful. you thought he would move on to the next chat, but he just kept doing his thing, aware that you're watching him.

‘’you have pretty eyes." he said at one point. you raised your eyebrows. you weren't expecting a compliment at that moment.

''thanks. uhm... you got a nice... well...'' you said, trying to compliment him somehow, but you didn't know exactly how. a nice cock, definitely. at least from what you could see.

‘’a nice cock?’’ he chuckled, as if he were reading your thoughts. ‘’yeah, most people say it.’’

''you've shown it many times, i suppose.'' you replied, and he chuckled again. there was something about him chuckling that left you with a pool on your lower belly. something warming inside you.

''well, not that often. i'm a shy guy, ya' know?'' he said, his thumb pressing right on his slit, making him hiss and you shifted on your bed.

''a shy guy who shows his cock to the camera but doesn't show his face.'' you said, feeling bolder.

he hummed, his head lowering a bit so you could have a glimpse of his chin. besides having a nice cock, he also had a perfectly shaped jaw.

''guilty as charged. but what can i do? 'm just some guy trying to have some fun for free on the internet, don't mind me.'' he said, his forearm flexing a bit when he closed his fist on his tip, sliding down, the foreskin also coming down to show the tip more.

you're lucky he couldn't see your face from the nose down, or else he would see you licking your lips like you were looking at a full meal in front of you. you couldn't help yourself. he was teasing you, and he knew it.

''what about you? what are you doing here this friday night? no slumber party with friends?'' he asked, snapping you out of your reverie.

“i'm bored. i just wanted someone to talk to.'' you shrugged. you weren't lying, actually.

‘'kind of hard to find someone to talk to around here, huh?'' he asked, chuckling about the situation.

''yeah, but... we're talking now, aren't we?''

''while i'm jerking myself off, yeah.'' he added. ''hope you don't mind.''

''i don't mind, don't worry.''

''and why don't you mind?'' he asked, genuinely curious. not even you knew how to say that. at the moment, you were actually enjoying talking to him. especially since you could also see what he was doing.

you didn't need to lie, you were strangers to each other there. at worst, you could just skip the chat and he would be gone forever.

''i kind of liked watching you touch yourself. you're not like the others, explicit and stuff. i like how you do it.'' you replied, watching how his grip on his length seemed to tighten a little. he seemed to like what you said. fueled something inside him.

''yeah, you liked it, eh? that's good to know. i'm glad i being able to fill your boredom.'' he said, his hand moving up and down in a controlled rhythm. oh, you wish he could fill more than your boredom. ''you know, i like your voice. can you keep talking to me?''

''what do you want me to say?'' you asked, his left hand gesturing for you to say anything you wanted.

''anything. tell me what you like to do.'' he said, his hand keeping the pace, his breathing a bit ragged. fuck, you thought that it was so hot, you barely could think on tell something about you when you saw him touching himself like that.

‘’i like to read, to take some lazy afternoon’s strolls, listen to some old tunes from the 80’s and…’’ you listed, but you could barely concentrate. the sight of him was lingering in your mind more than you cared to admit, making you feel warmer and warmer, rubbing your thighs together under the blanket to get some kind of relief.

''mhm, keep talking, darling.'' he said in a whisper, his head was back against the back of the chair, his adam's apple was protruding even more as he swallowed hard, his chest moving up and down at the same pace as his hand.

you could praise him. you should praise him.

''and i like your body. the way your hand moves. pretty endearing and...'' you said, biting your lip slightly.

''oh fuck, i bet you wished that it was your hand here, eh?'' he hummed, his voice had a deep tone, a bit ragged from his breathing.

“maybe. i think i could take care of you in no time.” you countered, his hand moved faster, letting out a strangled moan as he came, the thick and slimy release hitting his chest, making a mess on himself.

“oh, fuck, fuck…” he panted, standing still for a few moments, his chest rose and fell rapidly, his hot and fresh cum running down his chest like tears of pleasure. 

you couldn't help but feel mesmerized by the scene. not that you've never seen it before, but somehow it was different. he was different.

“gotta clean this mess.” he muttered to himself after regain some of consciousness, looking at his own mess on his body. you watched as he got up, catching a brief glimpse of his boxers which were pulled down to mid-hip.

you kept silent, somehow thinking you should wait for him to clean himself up before you could say something. 

“just for the record, that never happened before. i mean… it usually only happened when the person was also doing something, touching herself, anyway..." he said as he sat again, holding a tissue on his right hand. he seemed kind of embarrassed that it had happened, and you felt sort of proud. you didn't needed to do anything more.

“it's okay, i liked it.” you replied, reassuring him as he wiped the last restraints off his stomach. then, you could see his face since he was looking down. 

he might not have even realized you saw his face, he was too worried about cleaning himself and you were too worried about seeing how handsome he was.

“you’re pretty.” you let it slip out your lips. he widened his eyes slightly, his eyeballs glanced at the screen, and soon he let out an awkward laugh.

“you weren't supposed to see my face, you know?" he chuckled, crumpling the tissue into a little ball, throwing it directly into the trash can where it was. 

“you faltered, i guess.” you shrugged. he repeated your motion, adjusting his camera so you could see him properly. pretty eyes, pretty lips. such a pretty and big nose. “pretty handsome.”

“yeah, too bad i can't say the same to you.” he teased and you frowned. “you're not showing your face, silly.”

it was a good move. you chuckled, wondering if it would be a good idea to show him your face. it wasn't like you were going to see each other again, was it?

you pulled the blanket off the other half of your face, showing yourself to him. he let out a low whistle and you rolled your eyes, slightly flattered.

“nothing special here.”

“how dare you? your face is as beautiful as your voice.” he complimented you. you couldn't help but feel the butterflies in your stomach do a flip. “i'm alex, by the way.”

right after you said your name back to him, you listened to the sound of your parents' car pulling into the garage of your house. you sighed, muttering a "shit" that he couldn't help but hear. 

“your parents arrived, hm?" he deduced and you gave a crooked smile, nodding with your head. 

“yeah, i have to go.” you gave a slight pout and he mimicked your gesture, eliciting a chuckle from you. you didn't want to leave, you wish you could talk to him more.

“yeah, don't worry. it was nice to talk to you.” he said, giving a slight and shy nod as if he wasn't jerking himself off a few minutes ago in front of you. 

you could listen to the footsteps of your parents around near the house, your father's heavy footsteps contrasting with the dry thud of your mother's heels as she came closer to open the front door.

“um, before you go…” he said before you could exit the site. “i'm here every friday night.”

“is this some kind of 'see you later', alex?” you raised your eyebrows, a smile tugging your lips. he shrugged, trying to act nonchalant, but you could notice the flicker in his eyes, like a silent hope.

“only if you want to, love.”

breeding kink bearded alex... in or out?

soooooooo in

idk how to write blurbs sorry but i feel like tbhc (beard) alex would just be so primal idk how else to explain it. i like to think of his only goal being exactly that, filling you.

and then him fucking his cum back into you until he gets soft and just slips out plssss…😔

Belt appreciation. // Alex Turner X Reader! (Smut)

Prompt: It's literally a smut based on your fixation on his belt; and the man himself! (a belt appreciation smut fic).

Words: 2,7k

Alex tried to maintain a casual demeanor, but as your gaze wandered over him in the room, he felt like he was on stage under a spotlight. His cheeks were warm and flushed. You lay sprawled on the bed, wrapped in the sheets and still immersed in his scent. He needed to leave earlier than usual to make the most of the band's time at the studio, which led him to wander around the room quietly.

If it weren’t for the gentle kisses on your forehead and neck before he got up, you wouldn’t have stirred. However, you couldn't imagine starting your day without his morning affection. Alex always took his time getting ready, often spending hours in the bathroom. With the door slightly ajar, you could see his bare back as he brushed his teeth, and the silence of the morning allowed you to hear his footsteps.

You found amusement in watching him choose his clothes. He selected a long-sleeved striped button-up and flare jeans. Observing, you saw him slide his arms into the shirt (making you wish you were the fabric), leaving it unbuttoned, and then pull on the jeans, adjusting them right above his white underwear. Your breath eagerly following how outlined and settled to the left he was in the thin fabric. His fingers delicately wound the slim belt, revealing his graceful hands with prominent veins. As he slowly fastened the leather and looked up, his eyes met yours with a goofy pout. Your body felt as though it had frozen, and when his smile, accompanied by a soft sigh, filled the room, you got lighter despite his wet hair and slightly swollen face all over you. He was undeniably handsome.

You murmured, your voice heavy and whiny, "You're keeping me from sleeping, Bambi." The previous night still weighed on your body, making you shiver slightly. Alex laughed in that endearing way you loved, with the little crinkles at the corners of his caramel eyes becoming more pronounced and some appearing just above his cheekbones.

“You don't seem to want to sleep," he said, his accent rich and deep, marking his first words of the day. You looked up at him, noticing his soft swollen belly that seemed just right for a kiss and his chest rising with slow, deep breaths. It was okay if he left and his shirt wasn’t as neat as it could be, right?

Sometimes, you wished you could be firmer with Alex, or at least appear to have control, you disliked thinking that the band might resent you for his delays. But there you were, welcoming him back into bed with open arms, your hands getting lost in the damp strands of his neck as he murmured relief in your ear, feeling your touch. Your legs wrapped around his waist, and his body weight settled comfortably over yours. He was so yours. His cold fingers rested on the warmth of your hips, beneath The Stone Roses shirt. It felt so good to have him close.

You held him tighter in your embrace, not wanting him to leave. The jeans brushed against your thighs, the belt buckle graze you, eliciting laughter that was purely from satisfaction, as if you had been expecting that exact moment. He kissed your face, trailing his chin along your skin, and you closed your eyes, savoring the texture of his growing beard against your face.

"I really like the belt, it hugs your tiny body so well.” You sounded on the verge of tears. Finding your drama amusing, Alex held you close, making your hips movements more fluid; he clearly bought into your idea. You don't need much pressure to feel him through the fabric. A few minutes ago he was in front of you, half swollen, putting on his jeans, and now he was heavy with how you were rubbing against him. The leather of his belt was pure pleasure for you. "Are you jealous of him?" There was a breathy pause; he didn’t need much from you, as his chest was already as out of rhythm as yours. "It's just that, well, you can have contact with my skin–just like my clothes.”

Your mind felt sluggish, surrendered to him. Given the time, you wouldn’t have thought about it if not for Alex’s disjointed words along with your louder sighs. You carefully slowed down, your fingers gripping the soft collar of his shirt; the tips of your fingers were lighter from the friction. His rosy lips parted with a delightful sound. You smiled at him, and he did the same back, understanding then lying down beside you. It felt like a sleepover, with neither of you caring about the time. As if it were nine o'clock at night the day before and he could exhaust your body while your saliva was present on his pillow; but there it was your turn.

You settled more comfortably on top of him, your posture upright, wanting him to have a full view of you. As your knees spread and pressed around him, creating more friction, you knew that it would leave a mark on his blue jeans.

“God, I'm wet.” You looked surprised, admiring the stained spot as you ran your fingers over his belt buckle, running your fingers up his belly and chest to pull his shirt aside and get a wide view of your man as you were riding him.

“And I didn't even ‘ave to do anything, lil’ one. You're just too perverted.” You considered arguing, but he was right. He was properly dressed, despite having spent quite a while wandering around the room. He watched your eyebrows raise, ready to protest, only for them to settle as you took in the seriousness of the situation. "Why so quiet, pet? Aren't you gettin’ what you want?” His voice made you lose focus.

As soon as his thumb touched you, your awareness wavered slightly. He rubbed your clit in circles, so lazily, yet firmly. Your head fell back, chest full of air. You pressed yourself against him and all he did was collect your juices on his fingers as he lightly patted your thigh. He grunted in a sigh, as if to let you know he was proud.

"I love it when you leave your mark on my clothes, the rips, stains and your smell. Is that what you're going to do again? Make yourself come on my belt and jeans ‘til I'm marked as yours?” Your eyes welled up; you knew he was saying what you wanted to hear. Although the thoughts were his, they made you feel so vulnerable. Not to mention that years ago, Alex wouldn’t have been so expressive; this had developed over time with you constantly on his mind. He certainly desired you more now than when he first met you, and his love grew proportionately. If you felt good about it, then he did too.

"I'm not possessive, Bambi." You laid your head to the side, nibbling at your lips for him. Your body was warm. Your breath was nonexistent, your hair sticking to your forehead just as Alex’s strands fell over his eyes in a cute fringe.

He pulled his fingers into his mouth, running his tongue over them briefly, sucking all the moisture from them to himself. He groaned in pleasure, making you want to punch him. The mole near his mouth shone like it had been dipped in lip gloss and you were sure it was you.

You leaned in to touch his lips with yours and he concluded, "You're really not – but I wanted to emphasize that I'm yours; to let people know that.” Your smile broadened, impossible to suppress. You kissed his cheek, nipping at the rosy skin and gently pulling it to yourself. He smelled good. The beard was such a great tease. You looked at him for a few seconds, from the scar on his eyebrow to his pointed nose, focusing on his face and the weight of his chest. You kissed him again, more passionately, feeling each of his breaths into you.

His fingers tightened on your shirt, then before anything else could happen, you interrupted him, regaining your composure.

You had a strong liking for his belts, you had your favorites among them, but overall, Alex took them to himself so majestically. Both the thicker or thinner ones. They accentuated his waist nicely, and now that he was boxing again, every time he wore them, the back of his pants looked perfectly rounded, highlighting his thighs as well. Not to mention that it left his belly and waist quite biteable.

“I won't let you touch me now, Alex.” Your intention was to sound whispered, more for yourself than for him to hear. However, it came out sounding authoritative, surprising even you; he laughed at your realization. You were indeed impatient, no longer able to delay it any longer.

Pulling Alex's hands away from your skin, an action he attempted but you avoided, knowing that he would lift or take off your shirt so he could see you better. Every now and then his serene, dark gaze would hover over your hard nipples in his white t-shirt; you wanted to deprive him of that taste. As he frowned, with the visible wrinkle between his eyebrows, his pink mouth watery from not being able to have them on his lips, you felt avenged. “I mean that, Bambi.” He just nodded. He also just wanted to be touched, no matter which way.

Revisiting your idealization of how both the clothes and you could enjoy him, you unfastened the belt buckle with a satisfying click, deliberately pulling the leather through the loop. He lifted his hips, making everything easier. Without much thought, you opened his buttons, pulling the zipper greedily, and he moaned at the touch. He was already as sensitive as you, both of you had a problem with tiredness and moodiness, everything became more vulnerable with that. The white underwear was tight, starting to become slightly transparent with precum. You could see every inch of him without effort, your mouth was also watering with it, if it weren't for wanting it so much you would find more time to have him on your tongue.

With the belt in hand, you chuckled smugly at Alex’s surprise when he noticed you sliding the material around his waist. You placed his wrists next to his sides before tightening them, keeping him still as best you could, and closed the buckle around him. Alex knew he had enough strength to get out of that, but he respected your will and seeing you so confident made him ready than ever. You could tell that by looking at him. His pale skin would surely bruise and you would find yourself enjoying it.

You leaned against his shoulders, your knees firmly planted on the bed. If he could touch you, he would have already slapped your thighs and grabbed your ass tightly so that you were buried in him, but (un)fortunately all you saw was the agony on his rigid face.

“Why so quiet, pet? Isn't that what you wanted?” The words were sweet, yet bittersweet to Alex. However, he had no complaints.

He chuckled, laying his face to the side. His hair was no longer damp, but it fell gracefully over the back of his neck and face. You adjusted yourself better, accommodating him in your wetness. You could feel his entire length through the fabric, then your hips danced around him, every movement designed to keep him warm inside you even with the barrier of his underwear. For you, the friction felt good and the wet noise seemed to be giving little kisses to your clit. Each prolonged sigh from Alex made you want to sit harder on him, and as the minutes passed, it was impossible to avoid it.

His adorable little wrinkle between his eyebrows was present, his cheeks were very red, as were his lips that were open and swollen. As your thigh pressed against him, his abdomen contracted, his chest felt heavy with beads of sweat accumulated in the few hairs; but it was so sexy coming from him. The back of his neck fell back into the pillow, his eyes narrowed and you couldn't help but say, "I know, Bambi. It’s good.” He nodded, consciousness slowly fading. His body was weak, muscles slack, though his hands were clenching around nothing, certain that under normal circumstances your waist would be engraved with his fingers. And somehow, you missed his touch on you as he emptied himself in relief.

The white, warm liquid dripped a little from the fabric, which made you sigh along with him. The soaked sensation was good and following with watching him in his state of ecstasy drove you there too. Not so restrained, you let your body fall on his in exhaustion, your legs aching and your clit throbbing. It was a real good morning, really a truckload of breakfast. Alex looked at you with bright eyes, even though it was hard to keep them open, and smiled as satisfied as you. He kissed your forehead, resting his warm lips on your skin. You felt the leather of the belt on your lower belly and that made you smile silently, realizing Alex whispered, "You can let me go now, little one.”

The words brought you back to reality; you had indeed been in a world where only you and Alex existed. "Oh my god, Al. Has this really taken this long?" You rubbed your eyes, getting up as if you could help him. In contrast, Alex, with his rosy cheeks, remained calm. "I don't think so." He continued lying down, watching as your nervous hands undid the buckle and freed him. He smiled at you, his eyes crinkling, teeth showing. "Alex, they get annoyed with me when you’re late." His brow furrowed in a dismissive gesture, indicating he didn’t care.

"You make me late. It’s not my fault. I was getting ready just like any other normal person." You raised an eyebrow, observing his goofy, playful grin. You were indeed worried; sometimes it was due to reasons like this, but other times it was because Alex insisted on driving you to work. "They don’t mind, love. They only joke ‘bout it ‘cause they know you take it seriously." He hugged you, and that made sense, but it didn’t change the fact that it happened.

He brought his face close to yours, holding your chin then brushing his nose along your cheek. "You could use your day off to come with me today. Watch me sing, have lunch together, and maybe grab coffee in the afternoon too." You felt your body relax; it was a tempting offer. It was hard to handle when he was away, you enjoyed these little moments together.

"Won’t I be in the way?" He shook his head, "Not at all, I’ll be happy to ‘ave you there." Honestly, when you were home, he would send photos and messages now and then, which you found sweet but also wondered how it didn’t disrupt his work. You often warned him about that.

"Alright, you can go ahead; I need to get ready, take a shower..." He nodded, watching you get up in a hurry. "I’ll come with you."

"To the shower?" You looked confused as he checked his phone and showed you a message from Jamie suggesting you join them. You didn’t know the details but thought it was cute that he talked about you with them.

"Yes," he said, noting your reaction. "I kind of expected this; I woke up much earlier than usual; there’s still time." Alex chuckled as you nudged his shoulder, clearly amused. You felt you could have put in a better performance with more time. Nonetheless, Alex was more than happy. "You’re a pest.”

...

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

.. let me know if you wanna to be in or out! forms link taglist!

maybe i was mistaken

just a summer thing

warnings: smuting, sexing, blowing, eating, fingering, flinging, etc.

word count: 3.4k

The relationship between Alex and you can't be understated. Some say it was gradual, some say it was all at once. But you would just describe it as one summer. Nestled in the heated crest of 2013, you met Alex, you fucked Alex, you loved Alex, and you never saw Alex again.

You met Alex at a party in January. One with a blurry memory and only one photo to prove you were ever there. Then, you met again at another party. This time in June, only one drink in, and enough hair gel to suffocate a man and turn on a woman to a ridiculous degree.

"You know, I'd never thought I'd have a thing for Danny Zuko," you told him, three drinks in, two makeout sessions later. The edges of his mouth had red lipstick smeared on it, just like the rim of your glass. He had visions of that smear around his cock and he was sure he was going to get it tonight. "But after tonight."

He wrapped an arm around you and gripped your ass, not shameful in feeling you up. In fact, every advance had been edged closer and closer to exhibitionism. It turned you on along with the clang of his belt and those black Chelsea boots. "Some say it's Elvis," Alex said, pushing his hand along the side of the grease helmet.

"Isn't that the same thing?" You countered. "Elvis, Danny, Birdie."

He raises an eyebrow. It feels calculated. "Birdie?"

"From Bye Bye Birdie, the musical," you explain. "It's based on Elvis going to war. It even has Ann-Marget, Elvis's l—"

His mouth covers you, absorbing away at that red pigment. He takes control of you completely and you fall away, into him completely. There's a tight squeeze of your ass and a signal from him, rubbing up against you, telling you it's time to get a room.

Somewhere in the pounding chaos of this party, he locks a door, and you get down on your knees. Alex's eyes glaze over as you take him into your mouth, his head lulling to the side as your tongue sweeps across his head and teases his slit. Your eyes lock onto his, watching him watch you as you bop your head up and down, your plump lips stretching as you slowly take more of him into your mouth.

You hollow your cheeks and suck, your mouth making obscene noises. You get halfway down before you pull back and start again, bringing a hand up to wrap around his shaft and stroke him as you begin to descend again, this time gagging when you feel his tip poking the back of your throat.

"Fuck, baby, that's it," Alex moans, his hands tangling in your soft hair, feeling your throat contract around his dick. He doesn't hold your head or force you to take more, just massages your scalp and lets you keep control. "That feels so good."

You smile around his cock, slurping and sucking and stroking him to full length with eagerness and vigor. You watch his face as you please him, feel the way his thighs tighten underneath your hands, the way his body does these cute little jerks and jumps when he's trying not to come too early. You fall in love with it all. He takes hold of his cock and empties completely into your mouth, the last drop hanging on that faded red lip.

Then, there was a call. It might have been a week after the party, maybe less. He called and invited you to dinner and what you thought to be unrequited infatuation after a hookup became reciprocated because Alex has always known how to reciprocate.

He never called you his girlfriend. You never called him your boyfriend. But you were each other's arm candy. He was your date for a wedding. You were the woman on his arm at Glastonbury. 

Fortunately and unfortunately, it wasn't a friendly affair. It was a carnivorous and burning desire that left you both desperate individuals with only the other to suppress the flames until the fire fought back and the process repeated.

You slammed your head up against the wall as he mauled away at your neck. He could kill you, mouth on your jugular, let you bleed out. Is it sick that you'd let him? You've fallen so deeply into him. Deeper than you want to confess, even to yourself. 

He's hungry, hand on your thigh, pulling your left leg up, his erection dancing right around your core. It's obsessive teasing and you ride up right into him, making his breath hitch against your throat. "You want me to do you right here?"

You hum with a quick nod. He pulls back with a smirk, his hands leaving your body to undo his belt. You're in some bathroom at some fancy function that you don't understand and are quite bored by but he asked you to come so you came. Now, well, now he's asking again.

He presses his body up against yours, sandwiching you in between the wall. Alex's hands slowly drag their way up your thighs to your short silk dress, pushing the skirt up so teasingly. His mouth hovers inches away from your mouth, hot breath consuming you. You could fall right into him and die for it but you maintain your willpower to resist his pull.

His fingers brush the lacy edge of your panties, sending shivers through you. The smirk on his face only grows more pleased. He moves across the waistline, stopping to play with the tiny bow. 

Then, suddenly, his movements quicken like the desire has caught up with him. He pulls himself out of his underwear, giving himself a few pumps. "Do you want me to...?" You suggest, motioning to his cock.

He chuckles. "Nah, I want to fuck you here and now and quick. That alright with you?"

It's all too easy to say, "Yeah" before he's taking you over again. He pulls your panties to the side and runs his fingers through the folds once before he enters you. It's pounding and there's no teasing in any way. You both know there is probably a line forming outside this bathroom and you're both so hungry for it that there is no need to play it slow and sensual. Not that there's much love in your lovemaking.

"Fuck," he mutters, "you like that? Huh?"

You can only manage to say, "Yeah." Your arms cling around his neck to keep some stability as he thrusts into you. His hands are on your waist, pulling you into him, having you match his rhythm. It's dirty. You feel dirty. And you like it. 

Everything is pounding—Him, the music, your head—but you're lost in it completely. You throw your head back and knock into the wall again, enough to grasp your head in pain, cursing. Alex just thinks you're really into it. He pushes you to your knees, grabs your head, and lays his dick on your tongue, shooting into your mouth. "Fuck that was good."

"Yeah." You continue to clutch the back of your head. "I think I'm bleeding."

"What? Like your period?" Alex looks down at his cock, still out and shiny with cum, no period blood.

"No, my head. I hit it." You look at the tips of your fingers, a slight stain of red. 

"Oh, fuck. You okay?" He takes up his pants, fixing his belt, and taking a long gaze in the mirror at his slightly roughed-up appearance. He pulls out a comb from his back pocket and runs it through his hair.

You're not sure what to say. You take to your feet and try to get a look at yourself in the mirror. "Yeah." Your hair is messy but that's nothing new. The light is hurting your eyes and you suddenly feel like you should be at home. Not in some foreign country with a man you barely know. "I think I'm gonna go back to the hotel."

"Alright. I'm gonna hang around here some more. Are you sure you're okay? I'm sure a drink would help."

Alex seems to think that a lot. The cure for anything is a drink. You're not sure if that applies to everything in his life or just you. You shake your head and say you'll be fine. You're not sure what time he returns to the hotel but his arm is wrapped around you when you wake up. It's enough reason to not go home.

*

In July, he crashes at your place for a week. You try to be realistic, as you always have with Alex, but you can't convince yourself this isn't serious. That during his break from touring, he shacks up with you. He cooks dinner for you one night and on another, he rubs your feet after they've suffered in heels.

"I love having you around here," you tell him on the last night. It's the closest you'll ever get to saying "I love you" to him.

He rubs his hands along your legs that are sitting in his lap. "Thanks for having me. I like it around here a lot."

You giggle at his pronunciation. "You mean you like the privacy."

"Well, yeah." Your words are a sign for him and he brushes his hand up higher, past your knee, up your thigh. Any response you had is left in your throat. 

His fingers touch the waistband of your shorts, flicking them away from the skin. "Will you do something for me?" For the first time, he sounds timid, nervous even.

"What?"

You think of what he could say, what you long for him to say. Those declarations of love that sit on your tongue. Instead, he asks, "Can you touch yourself?"

Your mouth gapes. "Like masturbate?"

Alex chuckles at your reaction. "Yeah. Touch yourself," he whispers.

You never thought you would do this, something so vulnerable to you, but his gaze is strong and he can convince you of anything with those eyes. You slide your shorts off, your fingers brushing against the moist material of your underwear.

You lean back and relax against the couch's arm cushion as you spread your legs wider, allowing Alex a greater view. You bite your lip as you run the tip of your finger up and down your underwear, applying a little bit more pressure each time you trace yourself. 

"Will you do it too?" You ask. The imagined sight of that turns you on severely. 

He shakes his head. "Later. I want to watch you now." You hum and dance over the fabric shielding your pussy. You reach in and finally touch yourself. "How wet are you?" He asks softly, watching your hand move between your legs. He keeps one hand on your leg, the other sits on his crotch, neither moving.

Your eyes flutter closed as your fingertips slide through your slick folds, tracing a long path up the entire length of your slit, your breath hitching as you brush your clit. "So wet," you finally answer him.

You start rubbing tight circles on your clit until your whole body tenses and you're coming violently with Alex staring straight on.

A satisfied smile covers his face as your body relaxes. His body starts moving toward you, a predator hunting its prey. You whimper as his fingers approach your pussy, his hand resting on the lips. "You want to come on my fingers now?"

You nod and his slowness is destructive but it's so much softer now. You've never done foreplay but now one hand is smoothing over your sensitive skin while the other reaches under your top, searching for your nipple. His eyes look into yours and for a moment you can see everything clearly, the feeling seeping out of him.

Then, his fingers run through you, wetting themselves from you. His head moves down lower and he moves off the bed, kneeling beside you. He shifts your hips toward him, giving him a perfect view. He hooks his fingers in the band of your panties and pulls them down your legs, tossing them over his shoulder and spreading you wide open to get a nice look at your pussy. He licks his lips before diving in, giving your inner thigh a few quick nips before he drops the pretense and moves his mouth directly on you.

The first lick makes your head spin and he laps at you to get more and more of you on his tongue. The flat of his tongue licks broad stripes up and down your wetness. Your hips buck off the bed and towards Alex's mouth, practically humping his face. 

He latches his plump lips onto your swollen clit, sucking and slurping on the nub as his tongue traces words and shapes on it. His fingers wrap around your thighs and pull you even closer. 

Alex abandons your clit to move down to your hole, dipping his tongue inside your warmth and fucking you with it while his thumb replaces his mouth on your clit. As he eagerly licks you out, his gaze drifts up and meets yours, staring you down until you are falling apart around his tongue, the walls of your pussy vibrating around it. He grips your thighs tightly to keep you in place as he continues to eat away at you through your orgasm.

He wraps you up in his arms that night. Each caress is caring when he fucks you and he leaves his cum inside you and you know your deluding yourself with the thought that he loves you, trusts you enough to hold something so personal. You know you're not the first. You'd beg to be the last. But you've always seen the writing on the wall.

On tour, it's like being a ghost. Sex is the only solution it seems. You can't complain, you enjoy it, you love it, but sometimes you feel like you don't exist. It's easy to make excuses. He's busy. The schedule is insane and it's hard to hold the same bliss as you had at your house when you're basically in a tin can for a month straight.

You decide to head back home citing work responsibilities but you know he doesn't believe you.  The rest of July passes with no contact. Everything is a blur until August. 

He shows up at your front door like some bizarre vision. He's suave and moves with little hesitation into your apartment. You think about questioning him, asking him what right he has to stroll in here after hearing nothing from him, but you know it's no use. 

"You look nice," Alex says. He looks around the place like he's playing Spot the Difference, trying to find the changes in you, trying to see if somebody else has come in here. He eyes you up and down like he's trying to see if there is somebody else.

"Thanks. You too." For him, that's all the permission he needs to approach you. "It's late."

"Yeah," he rubs the side of his head, "I'm a little drunk."

You nod. "Figured."

"Come here to fuck you," he laughs embarrassingly. "Now I just kind of feel pathetic."

You shake your head. "I'm the pathetic one."

"No, you're not. Sorry I've been a jerk."

"It's fine. I'm not shocked by it."

He chuckles. "I'm just, you know, going through some stuff."

"Okay."

"I'll probably be going through it for a while."

"Okay."

"Sorry."

"You don't have to feel guilty. We can just fuck."

"Okay," he says. His lips are quick because it's always quick. His hands are rough on your body and he's pulling away at your shorts, taking them off along with your underwear. He's equal, pulling away to take off his jeans. You take your shirt off, so he takes his shirt, and suddenly you're both nude. 

He comes back to you, taking your head in his hands, holding you to him. His hand travels down, teasing its way to your pussy where he rubs his fingers through you. "This good?"

You nod your head, bucking your hips forward into Alex's hand, desperately trying to create some friction. "Please, I need…"

"What do you need?" He whispers, smirking at you and the way you shiver as his hot breath tickles your neck. He moves with your body, his fingers slipping through you, pulling little gasps out of you every time he hits your clit. He keeps teasing you, massaging the bud for a moment before dipping back into your folds, reaching back, but not far enough to get to your entrance. 

He trails his hand across smooth skin, flipping you around so your back is to him. You lean against the back of the couch and stick out your butt. Alex shuffles and lines himself up with your core. He grips the base of his cock, and guides the head through your wet folds. He slowly starts pushing inside you. "Holy fuck."

"You okay?" You pant out, turning your head back to look at him.

He nods but doesn't make eye contact, too dazed. "Yeah. It's just been too long."

You giggle at him. "Same here. You stretch me out good."

He moans at that, dipping his head back. He pushes the rest of the way in, burying his entire length in your pussy. You clench around him as you get used to the feeling of being so full again.

Alex holds still, taking a moment. It takes so long that you start moving your hips back into him, rolling them in that way he likes. His eyes roll back as you fuck yourself on his cock, and he lets you set the pace for a few moments before he gathers his bearings and starts thrusting forward, meeting each of your slams with his own sharp pumps.

You rock against each other roughly before your movements start to flow, and you're fucking each other in rhythm. He grips your hips as he drills into, holding on tight as his thrusts pick up speed.

He drops his forehead against your shoulder, his eyes drifting down to watch as your ass presses up against his stomach with each pump. "That feel good, baby?" He pants into your ear.

You moan back, "I want you to come inside me, fill me up."

He whimpers at the words, and transitions from his pounding into smoother, longer thrusts, letting his hands move from your sides to find your hands, lacing your fingers together. He arches his chest away from your back so he can slide into you more easily.

His moans blend with your whimpers, and you're so caught up in pleasure. He keeps thrusting, feeling your walls starting to get tighter around his cock each time he slides through you.

"I'm close," you pant. He speeds up his pumping and he hits that spot that makes you go stiff. Your pussy clamping down hard on his cock. "Oh, fuck, I-" It's all you're able to spit out before you're shaking. He's quick to follow, spilling into your pussy.

You pant and shake against one another for a minute, Alex's hips jerking a bit as he continues to empty himself into you. Then, there's the question of the after.

He pulls himself from you with a sigh. "Are you alright?" He asks.

"Yeah."

He heads to the shower and you join him. It's as intimate as you'll ever get. After, he almost heads home, but you convince him to stay that night. In bed, you ask him about the tour.

He says, "It's long. This is my last big break until Christmas."

"And you spent it with me?" You hate the hopefulness in your voice. It betrays you, desperate to not sound desperate.

Alex seems to not know what to say for a while. He grabs your hand and plays with the tips of your fingers. "I feel like a jerk for saying goodbye."

You sigh and for once decide to be honest with him. "You are. I cared about you a lot. More than you did." He nods, staring down at your fingers. He tries not to show your words affecting him but his face betrays him, frowning and hopeless. "But I'm alright with saying goodbye. I'm comfortable just being a footnote in your story."

He shakes his head and finally looks at you. "You were more than a footnote. You'll at least get a chapter in the story of my life."

You share a laugh and it's nice when it's like this. Quiet and just the two of you and your laughter. "Thanks. I think you'll get a page in mine."

He nods. "I'm fine with that. I'm happy you're even allowing me to be included."

You sigh. "Well, you did fly me to Europe so I can't complain."

*

a/n: not my best work but it's finally something. writing some other things too...