Alex Turner X Reader Oneshots

Two Slow Dancers

He had just turned Thirty-One when he met her, being of the same age, and the two of them having a mutual friend.  The moment he fell into her at his own Birthday Party, he swore he could feel his heart stop and all his memories melt away. 

She was stunning. When he accidentally knocked her over, she was more concerned for him when they hit the ground. Nobody really looked at them, so there was no hesitation when she got up and offered him her hand.

"At least ask my name before you fall into my arms." She had joked.

"I'm sorry." He murmured. Oh My God. He felt awkward just standing in front of her, his face was probably redder than a tomato. 

"Oh..." She titled her head at him, apologetically, "I was just joking, sorry. Anyways, what's your name?" She brightened a little at the end.

"Alexander. You?" He waited for the realisation of who he was to kick in, but it didn't. Instead, she answered with her own name, not missing a beat.

"Y/N." she grinned.

*********

Ever since Alexander met Y/N, he felt like he had spent the past years of his life aimlessly. Over the course of Ten months, she had become his everything. He'd had lovers before, everyone did, but nothing and no one compared to her. 

And she felt the same way. 

And goddamn, what they both would've given to spent their teenage and early adult years together. They were mature now, and yes, they were adventurous but in their own way. But they would've loved to have spent nights drunk together with friends in overcrowded clubs and loud bass heavy music. Or to go and just do stupid shit, like spin the bottle or jumping over people's fences.

But, despite this longing for a longer life together, they were so very happy and so very sure that they were meant for each other.

And when they touched, when they talked, it felt like a school dance, that smell of sports gear and basketballs, over the top perfume and fruity drinks, copious amounts of fastfood and a slight plasticky smell.

They made each other feel like Teens again. Teens who had just finished their GCSEs and were now being invited to a Prom. Teens who were nervous to ask each other to go, but did it anyways. And each move, the placement of a hand on a waist, or a shoulder was electric.

It was love.