Andrea I’m tryna get fucked by Alex 😩
Bitch me too tf
Like, the character seems kinda hard around the edges and kinda cutthroat when it comes down to it but imagine being the only person he’s soft for.
He’s so harsh and blatant with everyone else after he comes back from the war, having a permanent scowl across his thick brows and his lips are always slightly dipped down unconsciously, but whenever he looks at you, it slowly morphs into a small smile and the crease between his brows disappears.
Imagine having him back after being apart for so long and your at your apartment, trying to patch things back up to where they were before. You’d made some chamomile and mint tea, adding a bit of milk to his and two tablespoons of honey, just how you remember he liked it.
Alex takes it in his big hands, his low, deep voice rumbling a soft, “Thank you” and you can’t help but stare at how his palms look rougher than you remember. He’s a bit jittery, bouncing his knee under the small dining table as you tell him about life since he left— about the job you got at a quaint little drugstore that had opened down the block a couple months back.
“S’nice…” He mumbles into his mug, blowing over the tea and taking a leisurely sip, his fingers sifting over the entire cup with no problem. “S’nice that you’ve got life figured out, for now at least.”
You smile with a twinge of melancholy sadness, getting the feeling that his words are hiding a somewhat hurt message. An extra sentence after his last, along the lines of, ”S’nice that you’ve figured your life out without me in it.”
You pull out the chair next to him, the metal legs scraping against the wooden floor and echoing emptily throughout the beige walls of the hollow flat. You set your own mug of tea down beside his, your hand settling over his in a hesitant manner, not knowing if he would be okay with you touching him so abruptly after so long.
Alex doesn’t seem to mind, his long fingers spreading out a tad so that yours naturally sift between them. He stares at your joined hands as they grip the porcelain cup tightly, feeling nostalgia scraping at the inside of his chest. You’re so warm and soft and gentle, so different from anything he’d experienced the last couple of months. So different from the blood and the screaming, the shooting and the bombs…So you, for lack of a better description. You’re just so you.
“I missed you,” your soft voice speaks up, cracking at the end. You refuse to let yourself cry— not with everything he’s been through. It would be borderline disrespectful to start bawling over being lonely when he had to watch people die right in front of him.
The corners of Alex’s lips twitch upward for a second, reflecting a comforted form of happiness. It feels good to know you’d thought about him while he was gone.
“I missed you, too…” He whispers, one hand moving to rest over yours, his thumb caressing your knuckles. “I thought about you a lot. Thought about that last night we had together.”
Your cheeks immediately begin to boil and you try to hide his comment’s impact by turning your face away, actively avoiding eye contact.
It had been one hell of a night.
Seeing the way your body reacts to him boosts Alex’s confidence up, a cocky smirk painting across his rosy lips and biting one of his dimples into place. He sets down his half-finished tea, intertwining your hands fully and squeezing your fingers lightly.
“D’you remember?” His voice holds a smug kind of fondness.
You take a shaky breath, nodding your head slowly, ears glowing raspberry red. “Yeah…”
“What do you remember?” Alex is trying to catch your eyes, head tilting forward with his irises alight with slyness.
“I remember we, uh…we were together.” You reply softly, feeling your thighs clench in recollection of the memory.
“Hmmm,” he hums, turning fully to the side to face you, scooting closer to your quivering body. “What about that night? When we were together.”
You gulp audibly, gaze flitting up under your lashes. “We…You…”
An amused grin spreads across Alex’s face as he watches you struggle with shy embarrassment. “What was that, darling? We what?”
“We sort of…kinda…” You’re absolutely mortified, feeling timid and dirty under his entertained gaze. The way his jaw clenches smugly and he’s biting his lower lip to avoid laughing is taking its toll on you.
“We fucked.”
And there it is. Short, blatant, coy and confident— entirely and completely Alex.
You nod your head again gently, your fingers twitching within his consuming grasp.
“But it wasn’t just that, was it?” He pushes with a soft tone.
“No.” Your voice cracks again.
“We made love.” Alex suddenly tugs you forward towards him, yanking you out of your chair and into his lap.
He hugs your hips tightly, pressing his lips to the shell of your ear, his hot breath sending a shiver wringing down your spine.
“We made love once,” he moves his lips to brush down the side of your blushing neck, his skin warm and damp, soft yet rough. “And then, again…”
He’s leaving sloppy wet pecks down the slope of your throat, brushing his nose across the curve of your shoulder, moving the fabric of your old sundress out of the way. “And again. And again, and again, and again…”
Your entire body is quaking in his lap as you feel his thighs flexing underneath your bottom, his chest starting to heave lightly as he begins to get excited.
“You kept begging me,” his voice is an airy murmur, carrying an undertone of a breathy moan, “kept begging me for more. You remember that, baby? ’Harder, faster, Alex, please!’”
“A-Alex—“ You try to get up, too wired up to sit on his warm legs any longer.
He simply stands up behind you, pushing your body against the nearest wall, your chest flushed over the aged pastel yellow wallpaper of your apartment as his hands grope at your hips, fists crumpling the material of your dress and dragging it up your thighs. Alex’s lips press his sticky warm words right behind your jaw.
“You were so fucking tight around me, remember that, darling? Taking me so deep like the good girl I know you could be— like the good girl you probably still are.” He pants against your heated skin, pressing the bulge in his worn army green pants against your backside. “And I just kept whimpering into your mouth and telling you how much I loved you while you rode me for the third time that night.”
His brows scrunch down, the words being hard for him to get out since he hasn’t uttered them in so long. But he says them— says them because they’re true. “I…I love you.”
You let out a soft squeak, your emotions mixing with your neediness. “I love you, too…”
Alex gulps thickly, releasing a slow breath as he thumbs over your hip thoughtfully. “Prove it to me, then.”
And then you’re pushing him against the dining table, your mouths locked as he groans messily onto your tongue while you climb over his lap and shove his back flat against the wooden surface.
“Fuck, I missed you,” You repeat in a low mumble as you fiddle with the buttons on the front of your dress, pushing the fabric down to your shoulders.
Alex chuckles against your lips at your dirty language, knowing only he could bring that type of naughtiness out in you. He rides his big hands up the back of your thighs under your long frilly skirt, digging the pads of his fingers in just how you like it. “I missed you, too. So bloody much, sweetheart.”
His digits hook into your pink cotton panties, pulling them down your twitching skin and jolting legs. He massages your bum roughly, giving it a sharp spank that has you mewling all over him.
“Now fuck me like you mean it.”
