Alex Turner/One Shots. (Smuts And Non-Smuts)

2 Prompts Blurbs (Fluff)

"Don't be, it's not your fault," you said, getting closer and brushing your lips against the tip of his nose. His arms remained around your waist, and you allowed him the time to gather himself before heading back to the car. He moved more slowly, and you were sure he would doze off during the ride back; all of this was taking a toll on him, something you could never have imagined. Despite everything, you felt good about being his driver when he wasn't up for it. It was pleasant to have him choose the music and hum along beside you.

Whenever he fell asleep, it was always the same. The low instrumental music in the background, his conversation starting to sound disjointed, and then he would slip into slumber. It was endearing that his face always ended up turned toward you, bundled up in the seat. "I still fear you might get tired of this," he said softly, almost without pause, as if he had practiced letting those words slip from his rose lips. You were stopped at a red light, stealing a quick glance at him. You hated these moments, but you wouldn't fail to let him know that you preferred when he opened up to you, rather than letting negative thoughts fester within him alone.

His eyes seemed distant again, even though they were on you. You held his hand. "I could never leave you, I love you too much for that." He swallowed hard, and even as you needed to drive, you didn't let go of his hand. You eventually placed his palm on your thigh, as if the exchange of warmth served as a reminder that you were there. "I'll say it as many times as necessary, I don't mind at all." You smiled softly, feeling lighter as you saw his reflection at your emotions.

He seemed more spirited and was about to pull his hand away to gesture something, but you just tugged it back to you, causing his smile to grow even wider. It was a beautiful sight, those wrinkles forming at the corners of his eyes and the one between his relaxed eyebrows. He let his hand rest comfortably there. "We could stop at a drive-thru, get some burgers and ice cream, and eat in the car. What do you think?" He seemed playful in his thoughts ahead, then found himself agreeing with your reassuring voice. He was indeed hungry but didn't want to deal with seeing or interacting with new people. So, the idea was appealing, and he liked to believe that you knew him so well that you noticed that, almost as if you could read his mind (in a way, that was true).

...

054: "May I have this dance, wife?"

...

You were wearing one of his white button-down shirts, the collarbone slightly exposed, and you felt relaxed. It was near the end of the day, and Alex was wearing a tank top and cotton shorts that he only wore at home. You loved the intimacy of it all; it put a silly and fulfilled smile on your face. You placed the pasta on the balcony table—a simple and quick meal, accompanied by a bottle of wine. The sole and humble purpose of it was to have more quality time together. After Alex set the glasses, he put his hands on your waist and gave a quick kiss on the top of your head. In silence, with only soft music playing from inside the house, creating a cozy atmosphere, you finished lighting the candles scattered around, from the table to various spots on the floor.

When you first met Alex, you thought the honeymoon phase of the relationship would only last in the beginning, where everything was focused on conquest. However, over time, even after getting married, nothing had changed. He was just as intense as when he was in his 30s. You had recently moved to Paris, and you didn't know of any other place in the world that felt as "Alex" as this city. Sometimes, especially on Saturdays, you would go out for tea and explore the neighborhood in the morning just because it was incredibly beautiful. It had quickly become a habit. You would wake up to kisses and intertwined bodies, and as a routine, you would get ready together, sharing the bathroom and deafening laughter before heading out into the street.

The house you got yourself, located in the southern part of the country, was spacious, with a main room glass ceiling and a balcony offering a perfect view of the neighborhood's beautiful garden. Although you had loved the house right from the start, seeing Alex's radiant smile and vibrant eyes as he showed you the place made you realize that even if you hadn't liked it initially, you would have ended up loving it for him.

"May I have this dance, wife?" His accent sounded stronger in the cold wind. The candles weren't helping as much as you had hoped, and his warm hands embraced your chilly body. "It's cold. Come closer, babe." His voice was like a warm blanket, and sometimes you could swear he looked at you with the same affection you saw in his eyes when you first met and spent hours talking in a concert queue. You hugged him, wrapping your arms around his neck, letting your fingers play with his curls. You buried your face in his chest and immediately felt more comfortable and warm.

He held you tighter and lifted your body slightly so that your feet were on top of his. Your laughter caused vibrations in his chest, and he felt his muscles relax as he saw you safe and happy with him. And you did feel that way, not just in the physical sense of the word, but in trusting your feelings and flaws with someone. You could be yourself, even let your mind empty while your movements were guided by him and the hypnotizing voice of Father John Misty. You could rest on him.

"What do you think we'll be like in ten years?" You asked, causing him to pause the movements, as if listening to you was more important. He rubbed his hands together, warming them up before placing them on your properly chilled cheeks, making you laugh. "I can't say for sure. I enjoy the present so much that I don't think of a future that's much different. Don't get me wrong. It's just that as long as I'm with you, it'll be worth it." You wrinkled your nose, wearing a slight smile.

Meanwhile, he grabbed one of the blankets from the bench and placed it over both of you, covering your hands, legs, and even your head, that were fitting perfectly against his body like a magnet. He made room for you without hesitation. "What's on your mind, babe?" he suggested, kissing your cheek, sensing from your expression that you were trying to say something more. "Well, I wanted to bring up the topic of having children with you, but I don't know how to do it without sounding like it's a too much of a thing. I know you've never really thought about it, but I thought we could start... I don't know." You spoke casually, not wanting to make it seem like a big deal or sound intimidating. He gently turned your chin to make you look at him and said, "I know it's a big thing, but I want to know more about it. I like the idea of having children with you. I'm afraid of the reality of it, yeah, as I can barely take care of myself, but I've always known your thoughts on the matter. I wouldn't have married you if I didn't consider the idea." His words came out slowly, with light breaths, typical of Alex. It was as if he had rehearsed those lines, as if he knew or expected this conversation would come at some point and he didn't want to disappoint you. You found it cute of him. You didn't say anything, but you had a happy aura, with smiles and a light heart, that made Alex feel the same way. There was a flutter of excitement in your stomach, but it felt so right.

You brought the wine glass to your lips, realizing it had turned cold. You suddenly realized that you hadn't noticed the passing of time, but it was a common occurrence. The food would be the same, yet you would eat it as if it were the best meal you had ever tasted. Between bites, Alex kissed your face, sealing your lips together before more laughter filled your chests.

"You know, your kisses still taste like standing for about 6 hours to see The Strokes up close for the thousandth time, but this time being the most important of all." He would be happy to train and subsequently have happy children with you.