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

Alex's love language. (Fluff)

he's taking care of you when your wasted
...

"You wouldn't know, things aren't so difficult for you, Alex." Those words had been spoken the night before, after he had spent hours trying to help you search for new job openings in your field.
You were stressed and your situation had already reached such an extreme that Alex's motivational and incessant words had begun to sound like helplessness. You knew he wasn't intending to do harm and that he only wanted to help you (and he really was, no one was helping you as much as he was) but still, with your head pounding and already knowing that you would do the wrong thing, you let your words cut him.
In the end, it had hurt you more than him. When he heard it, he went quiet, his hands and fingers fidgeting with his coat. After a quick glance, not knowing what to say, he moved away from you. You let out a heavy sigh, refusing to close the laptop in front of you, and massaged your temple. Your body ached with stress, but you didn't want to face Alex and see how upset he might be with you. So, you stayed there with the screen open until you fell asleep, only waking up the next day and having to return to your infernal job routine.
You checked your phone several times, staring at it but always refusing to send a message to him, not knowing what to say. A little before the final hours arrived, Alex sent a simple message, asking how you were. You smiled even though you didn't deserve it. He sounded dry in the message, you replied that you were okay, and hoped that he was too.
When your work hours came to an end, you felt as usual, tired and soreness taking over your body in response to being overworked, but you didn't give in. It wasn't your fault, without that job, you wouldn't have any money and you could only get rid of it when you found a new one. As Alex was at home, he didn't mind picking you up, which was great for you as it actually made you feel better. However, not knowing how he was feeling after last night, you didn't know if he would be there. You knew that, deep down, Alex would be parked in his usual spot even though. And fortunately, for your mental well-being and luck, he was. On this occasion, he didn't greet you with a warm smile outside. Instead, he stayed seated in the car, patiently waiting for you to join him.
"Hi, Al," you said quietly, clearly apprehensive.
"Hey, babe. I hope today wasn't so bad," he smiled with tired, yet affectionate eyes.
Alex wasn't angry with you, but he was sad about the way you approached him the other night when he just wanted the best for you. And you could tell that by just being near him. He understood what happened as your way of asking for space, and that he had been too overbearing lately. So, he was committed to being more restrained about it, knowing you well enough to know that you would apologize once you had some time to think about it.
"It would've been better if I hadn't been rude to you, but work-wise, it wasn't so bad," you replied, your eyes welling up with tears. You tried to laugh it off, and he pulled you into a hug. His scent and grip made you feel so immediately lighter, you were so foolish.
The air was still tense between you, and there was more to be said. Alex didn't say anything, but he kissed your lips and nose, feeling somewhat relieved to see you laughing at his touch. At that point, surely, you could punch him in the nose and he'd still be there for you. Besides, he knew you needed him more than you needed him at that moment. He didn't care.
You tried to get comfortable in the car seat, but you couldn't quite relax. You watched him drive you home, his inviting profile and turtleneck sweater making him look sophisticated and cozy. He avoided looking at you, but you couldn't help but stare at him. You eventually fell asleep, but not before reaching out to place your hand on the nape of his neck and intertwining your fingers in his smooth, black hair.
Upon arriving, Alex picked you up, intertwining your legs and arms around him and carried you to bed. You were so exhausted, both from the day and from not having slept well while being sprawled in front of the laptop, that you just snuggled closer to his body and allowed yourself to be taken. He lay down with you, observing you sleep peacefully for some time, until he eventually fell asleep with you nestled against him.
Alex woke up to the feeling of you tracing your fingertips over his face, through his eyebrows, nose, and cheeks. Slowly, he opened his eyes and saw you gazing at him attentively. As he became more aware, he removed his hands from your waist, but you took them and placed them back on your body, causing him to let out a soft sigh. You rested your head on his chest and whispered, "I'm sorry. I hate that I treated you badly. It wasn't my intention, and those words didn't mean anything. I just acted impulsively because I was stressed, and you don't deserve that."
He hugged you tighter, kissing your face. "It's okay. I know you acted out of anger and it doesn't mean anything."
You stopped to look at him, your brows furrowed, as he seemed calm but still affected. "You're angry with me, I can feel it. Tell me what I can do to make it better. I promise not to do it again. I don't want you to think that I don't value what you do for me. I don't know what I would do without you, Al."
He chuckled, pulling you closer. "I'm not angry, babe. But I can't deny that I was upset."
Hearing that hurt, but you knew it was to be expected. Before your pained expression could repeat the apologies, he touched his lips to yours. "I forgive you, don't worry." He rested his forehead against yours, looking at you affectionately.
He understood that you didn't need space, and maybe he shouldn't try to solve your problems with resolution advice, but just listen to you. He felt uneasy hearing about the things you go through at work, and it was certainly even harder for you to experience it yourself. "I promise I'll listen better next time instead of hovering around like I know everything," he said simply, and you shook your head. He couldn't truly understand what you were going through, but he could learn to handle it better.
"I love you, Alex. I really appreciate that you're here for me. It's been a huge help. It wasn't your fault. I had no right to say those things to you, even if I was stressed or upset," you said. Alex looked at you with his puppy brown eyes as if he had just found his owner, knowing full well how stubborn you were and that you would keep with that until you had your last word about it. He could feel you were feeling bad about it.
He nodded, not wanting to drag it on. Then, hee kissed your face, like multiple times, moving to your neck and shoulders until he could feel the longing of not having spent the night beside you subsided and your laughter deafened him.
...
As you leave the bathroom, the sweet smell of baking cake fills the house. Alex was a great cook, while you, not so much. Whenever he had the time, he would experiment in the kitchen, and today was no different. As you enter the there, Alex catches sight of you and lifts you up in the air, making you laugh before setting you down on the countertop. He excitedly explains what he has made and how he tried his hand at a recipe from his mother. He thought you'd love it.
As he talks, his words become slow, velvety, and lazy, and at some point, you realize you haven't been listening to what he was saying. You've been too busy admiring how happy he looks. He offers you a slice of cake, saying, "I made coffee, but my mom suggested I make you try matcha. She said it has less caffeine and might help you sleep better and have fewer headaches. I thought it might help you." He holds up the package, and you can't believe how lucky you are to have someone who cares for you that much.
"Thank you for taking care of me, Al," you whisper, not sure how to put your feelings into words. His cheeks flush, and before you can take the mug from him, you kiss his hands. You take a sip of the matcha, not really enjoying the taste but trying to show your appreciation. Maybe you'll get used to it.
Alex watches you with tenderness, making sure you feel loved when you can't seem to allow you to make it for yourself. He scoops up a piece of cake and offers it to you, watching as your face lights up with warmth and affection. It tastes delicious, and Alex is happy that you're feeling good. He takes a bite too, feeling proud of the cake he made. As he takes a sip from the mug, you laugh, watching his face contort in response to it.
"You know, it's the thought that counts," you say, smiling at him before pulling him for more tight cuddles.