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

Your Girl. (Smut)

prompt: alex feeling a little insecure about being right for her and her assuring him.
warning: it's mainly riding him, bites, choking, cockwarming and some more smut...
...

He wasn't angry with you, but he seemed distant, lost since he returned home. The cigarette dangled lazily between his fingers, and he was far from actually smoking it, the ashes accumulating excessively before falling into the air. His arrival and immediate move to the balcony made you wonder if he might be avoiding you, although it wasn't hard to tell he was uncomfortable within himself. "Al, babe," you held the dress, struggling to unzip it completely. "Could you help me with this?" A furrowed brow and a heavy sigh. He was irritated, yet he discarded the cigarette before coming over to you. You found it endearing how he kept the smoke away from you, always managing to disappear with it whenever you approached him, as if instinctively protecting you from it.

His cold fingers brushed your skin, tracing the zipper of the dress and slowly undoing it. He pulled the fabric gently, pressing his lips to the exposed area and kissing softly, immersing his nose in your scent, eliciting a smile from you. It was a familiar routine, like something done without conscious thought, yet something both of you enjoyed immensely – it was involuntary for him. "You know, I've started buying more zip-up dresses just to get those kisses when you need to take it off," you remarked with a playful grin.

…

You nestled between the sheets, free from the dress and feeling lighter. Alex wasn't any different; he was covered from the waist down and bare-chested, his arms up in the air. You curled up against him, seeking comfort as if you were two pieces of wood generating sparks, which elicited a laugh from him. He still felt like he was in another world, but being there with you was enough. You wanted to ask, wanted to know how to ease his mind, but you didn't want to pry and potentially make things worse. He lay there, looking tired, perhaps it was just his social battery that had drained, though you didn't quite believe that. When he closed his eyes, holding you tighter, you let it be; maybe he just craved silence after the hectic day you both had. You wrapped one leg over his waist, burying your face in his neck, letting his warm scent lull you to sleep. Thin sheets were the only barriers between you in the warm night, and being able to feel the texture of his skin and his arms around you made you feel relaxed and oddly secure. It was the purest sense of feeling at home.

…

Your eyes slowly opened, as if in pain. What was warm and comforting had turned cold and irritable; Alex wasn't there. You wrapped yourself in the sheet, huddling a bit before noticing the balcony light on. With lazy steps, you made your way there. He, too, had the sheet covering his lower body, a cigarette in his hand. The scene amused you, its dramatic flair matching his, and he noticed you there, not shivering from the cold but from the lack of clothing. He seemed even more exhausted, with swollen bags under his eyes and flushed cheeks from scratching, a sign you had learned to interpret as him overthinking. He had been fine in the morning; you knew he had become like this due to something at the party.

"May I?" You gestured towards his lap, and he chuckled so sweetly that you began to wonder if it was all in your head. Maybe it was just insomnia, right? He nodded. "It's okay if you want to be alone, babe," you persisted, but he assured you it wasn't necessary. Once again, it was just layers of sheets separating you both.

Before you could even rest your cheek against his chest and have him wrap you in a tight embrace once more, he took one last drag from his cigarette, even though it was barely lit, and stubbed it out, placing it aside before planting a kiss on your head. As your hips moved in a slow, tentative yet persistent rhythm and his strong hands held you close, he chuckled, making you laugh a bit too and apologize. He claimed it wasn't necessary, and as you looked at him, your excitement faded; you knew he was still bothered by something.