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

Red Carpet. (Fluff/Smut)

 You took a deep breath from time to time, feeling your hands cold and clammy as you looked at yourself in the mirror. Indeed, you felt beautiful. You thought the voluminous dress was a bit over the top, but it was as perfect for the occasion as a dream coming true. "What do you think?" Alex had already given his honest opinion more than once, yet he would repeat it as many times as necessary. "It's just that I've finished my makeup now." You bit your lips, earning a disapproving look from your makeup artist (yes, it was that fancy!). "They're durable, but not that much." She shook the red tube, making you understand with regret.

 Alex laughed, touching his thumb gently over your lip, you laughed at that and he showed you his clean finger before holding your chin and giving you a long peck.

Amid the hurried sounds of packages being put away, you saw your new friend roll her eyes. "You look beautiful, red suits you." His caramel eyes were calm and had a slight sparkle. You hated making him be there with you, even though he said he didn't mind. Your hand squeezed his arm, the velvety texture of his cream suit easing your worries, and you kissed your forehead. "Everythin' will be fine, I'll be there with you, lil’ one." He stroked your back, admiring your dress that matched the color of his suit; a sweet smile spreading at the corners of his lips.

 Watching you clinging to him, he noticed your restless hand fiddling with the chain around your neck. He briefly missed having your palm under his shirt until your fingers found the necklace against his skin, with you pinching the thin metal until you calmed down. However, he knew he had made a good choice in giving it to you.

 He brushed your hair away from your face, aligning it between his fingers as you closed your eyes at his touch, resting your cheek better against his chest. Soon, you hesitated, and before he could question it and you could see the fabric stained with foundation or whatever was on your face, you heard a distant voice, ready to leave, "Don't worry, it won't transfer. Enjoy your man." You and Alex both thanked her, your face burning. And as his body embraced yours in a hug, you felt lighter; at least for a few more minutes.

....

 The day was beautiful, with the warm sun and the cooler breeze, even though your body was completely cold. Alex held your waist, occasionally looking at your face and hands to make sure you were alright. It wasn't his favorite setting, but he was happy for you, so proud that it made the situation seem commonplace. His initial idea was to leave you on the red carpet for photos and then wait for you until the interviews were over; he wouldn't take the spotlight from your day. It was expected that if he were by your side, questions meant for you and the film would soon turn to him or the band. But seeing your dazed look and restless breathing, he couldn't go through with it. He knew you could handle it if necessary, but he hated the thought of pushing you into something when he knew your mind was already being cruel enough to you.

 He tightened his fingers around you, sliding them up your back. "You're doing great," he whispered in your ear, smiling comfortably and pressing his lips to your temple. Your posture became less rigid, and with every step, he stayed by your side. You knew he didn't mind, but you wondered if having photos of him there with you might somehow be detrimental to the band.

"Thank you, Al," you said. You didn't feel the need to thank him, but you wanted to show that you appreciated it all. He smiled, his cheeks flushing pink and his nose wrinkling. "At your service, my lady." His accent sounded sharper, and it felt like he was the only one there with you.

Alex heard your name being called, in that repetitive and desperate chorus, "It seems like something I’d do in private, yeah?" You laughed, looking at him with a more relaxed look and he felt satisfied with the comment he made.