Heartbreak Hotel... and Beyond 🏩 (alex turner x oc one-shots)

Self-Portrait

"Show meh."

"No, Alex."

Alex lifted his hand with impatience at the exact same time his bottom lip protruded. "Babeh, c'mon, I wanna see yehr fookin' pictures!"

Lola shook her head, crossing the room, holding the envelope of recently developed film close to her chest. "No, Alex..." She dumped her handbag on the kitchen counter and busied herself with her phone, hoping that he'd let it go and leave her to sulk over the roll of film she'd wasted, but it took all of three seconds before he was speaking again.

"Put the phone down, Lo."

Lola bit down on her lip and focused her attention back to him with a huff, watched him suss her out with ease from across the room.

He shook his head back at her. "What's the fookin' problem, love?"

"I just don't want you seeing these ones," she mumbled. "They're not very good."

Alex shifted on the sofa with annoyance, had previously been lazily lounged out watching a documentary before she'd come home, but now his full attention was on her, was intrigued by her defiance. It was unlike her not to show him her latest work or idea because she was usually so proud of her craft, but there was clearly an issue in her wavering confidence and he refused to let it pass. He stood and Lola sighed in premature defeat as he started crossing to her.

"C'mon... let yehr man have a look... I'm sure 's fookin' mindblowin' work again."

Lola closed her eyes in frustration as Alex reached out for the envelope and prised it from her hands. She held her breath as he slid the first picture out and focused on it, his eyebrows twisting, wrinkles of obvious concentration appearing in his smooth skin, his lips pursing in thought.

"Lo..." he whispered, lifting his eyes to her to read the hesitancy and tension she was holding, before dropping them down to the second picture. "Are they all?..." His voice trailed off as he glanced over the photos in his hands, an intense adoration and lust for her building within him.

"They're all of me..." she said quietly. "It was an experiment... self-portrait. In the mirror. And I don't like any of them."

Alex hollowed his cheeks. He'd never seen her alone in her own photography, let alone in her underwear, in a sheer gown, peeking out from behind the curtains and he was head over heels for the way she'd captured her fierce and striking spirit but there was also an obvious softness and gentility in the structure of her face and swell of her lips, the pale shimmer of her skin which looked so inviting it made his head spin. Even in photo form, both black and white and flushed with colour, she was effortlessly captivating. The shadows and light on her face, her body were artful and the incredible green jewel tone of her eyes in the colour film was, to Alex, breathtaking.

"Lo, are yeh fookin' insane? These are..." He shook his head in disbelief waiting for her to look at him and draw her gaze from the photos she was somehow ashamed of. "Yeh're so fookin' talented... 'n'... sexeh..."

"I don't like this one," she stated, pointing at the photo he was currently transfixed by. "I feel like the lighting could've come out much better and my boobs look weird. I look lumpy."

"Lola, yeh're bein' ridiculous," he chuckled uneasily. He wasn't used to this amount of self-disgust at her work and shuffled slightly closer to her as if to assert his dominance in the conversation. Alex pulled out another photo she'd put to the bottom of the pile.

"This is incredible work."

"This one is crap..." she countered. "I look ridiculous here. Too posey and pretentious."

Alex scowled at her with frustration. "No."

"And this one..." she breathed, snatching a photo from between Alex's thumb and finger. "I just hate how big my thighs look-"

"-'ey, no! Absoluteleh fookin' not 'avin' tha'!" Alex responded, interrupting her at the trigger. He rested the photos on the counter and smoothed his hands back through his hair, aware that his voice had been filled with urgency and perhaps more force and anger than he'd intended, evident in her shocked and troubled expression. He licked his lips then wrapped his arm around her shoulders to pull her into a hug, smiling when he felt her fingers at his waist. "Fookin' stop it, alrehyt? Tha's enouf now."

Lola felt Alex press a soft kiss against her shoulder, then nudge his nose into her neck like a silent reassurance of him being there. She relaxed into him, relieved he was always there to rationalise her worries and support her through the unpleasant moments when she lost the confidence she'd nurtured and fought for.

"Dun't yeh ever talk about yehrself like tha' in me presence again," he sighed. "Never again, alrehyt?"

"Alex-" she rasped, beginning to open her mouth to thank him or tell him she loved him and felt so lucky to, when his hand came up onto her back to hold her closer, force the words she had prepared to fade away and be replaced with speechlessness at his warmth and overpowering cologne.

"Lola, love, I fink yeh're fookin' unreal," he declared with a drawl. "Woman of me dreams. Captivatin'. Allurin'. Majestic."