#the car! alex

[andbreakmynose]

every atom of your flesh is as dear to me as my own

part 1

your first date with the hot single dad you may or may not work for...

(the car! alex, single dad! alex)

WARNINGS: SMUT, feelings, age gap (reader is mid 20s), p-in-v (protected), oral (f receiving)

WORD COUNT: 5k

You hadn’t been this giddy over a man since Aiden Grant called you pretty on an Instagram post when you were 12, although you also hadn’t been with anyone like Alex fucking Turner.

Barely anyone knew you even worked for Alex; he didn’t want them to for his own privacy. You understood that, he was a private person and especially so when it came to his child. You didn’t have a problem with telling acquaintances that you worked for a rich man and not saying anything else, they usually understood. It’s never been a problem until now.

When you came home after that fateful night all giggly and smiling your roommate had more than a few questions. The alcohol in your system got you dangerously close to spilling but you came up with some lie last minute, you couldn’t remember what you said in that drunken haze but apparently it was enough to get Claire off your case.

You wanted to tell her though, you wanted to tell the world and you couldn’t. It was eating you alive that you couldn’t tell anyone that you had kissed - no, fucked - Alex Turner. Not in a bragging way, in the way that you wanted someone to tell you to calm down and slap some sense into you. You wanted to be able to ask someone for advice, to know that you weren’t making some grave mistake. It was times like these you wished that you took that advertisement in the mail for three months of free therapy.

Alex, in a sort of way, became that person. He was too busy to really talk the rest of the week, but his gentle gestures like kissing you before you left gave you enough reassurance to make it through the night without freaking out.

He felt the same way, there was this underlying fear in his bones that he really had done something terrible. It’s not that he thought he was taking advantage of you, no you’re a grown adult. But you’re the grown adult he has employed, he can’t lose that. If he worked for a company this would’ve been an HR violation. That was a bad feeling.

Waiting for Friday would be unbearable if you weren’t so damn busy. Toddlers don’t have time to accommodate for a complicated love life and it seemed that neither did Alex’s schedule. He wanted you to know that he cared and he was genuinely looking forward to having an actual date with you, but it seemed that every time he tried to start a conversation his daughter would start crying or his phone would start ringing.

It isn't until Wednesday that he actually gets you alone. He has enough time to slip home and grab lunch, and it's late enough that Ayla is already sound asleep for her nap. When he sees you sitting alone on the sofa, his heart swells. There's already something domestic about the scene: you, in his house, comfortable on his furniture. No signs of work, just relaxation—and he likes that.

“Hey. Had a few minutes to sneak out.” He sneaks into the living room, startling you slightly before you smile warmly. You can’t be upset with him, not even for a second—his presence is just too warm.

“There’s some leftover mac and cheese on the stovetop if you want it. Not exactly fine dining, but it was pretty good.” Your words make him laugh, and that feels good. He has a nice laugh, and you feel a sense of pride knowing you made it happen.

“I’ll pack some and take it back to the studio. Don’t really have much time,” he says, glancing down at his watch—probably more expensive than your car. “But I did want to talk. Y’know, about Friday.”

You nod and sit up properly, straightening your back so you don’t look lazy. He notices but doesn’t comment; it’s cute to him that you’re still trying to impress him when he already finds you so special.

“So I’ve been thinking... and talking...” He leans against the doorway, smiling. “I made a reservation at that restaurant for 6:30, and I’ve already talked to Matt. He’s more than happy to watch Ayla for the night. You know how excited she’ll be to see them.” He beams at his own productivity, clearly pleased with how he’s going above and beyond for you.

The mention of Matt confuses you. You’ve been nervous about even mentioning the situation to your sister, and yet Alex already told Matt? It makes sense, you guess—Matt understands celebrity life and knows how to keep secrets. He seems decent enough from the few times you’ve met him, but the idea still makes you feel something strange.

“Matt knows about... us?” you ask, hesitating slightly. You don’t want to seem upset—you’re not upset—but you do want clarification.

Alex picks up on your nerves instantly. It’s obvious in the way your fingers dig into your knee and your teeth worry at your lip. He shakes his head, chuckling. “Don’t worry about that. I told him an old friend is coming to town for drinks and that you weren’t available anyway.”

Damn Alex and his talent for easing your nerves. You exhale the deepest breath you’ve taken in a while. It’s all good. “Ah, okay. I was just wondering if you were telling the whole world about us,” you joke, knowing he isn’t. You needed to say something to lighten the mood, more for yourself than for him.

He laughs at your joke, and he doesn’t even need to say no—you already know he wouldn’t want to jinx things yet. He’s about to speak again when his watch buzzes, prompting a disappointed sigh. He doesn’t want to leave, he’d rather spend all day staring into your wide, pretty eyes.

“I’m excited for tomorrow, yeah? We’ll drop her off at 6:00 and then head out. I really am excited. You don’t even know.” He sounds slightly nervous, and it’s cute to see that you can make him feel that way. You don’t know what you did to deserve it.

"I’m excited too.” Your voice is warm, matching the smile on your face. You’re not entirely sure what to say, but you know just how excited you are to have something with him. His expression softens as he lifts himself from the doorframe.

“I’ll see you later, darling. Take care.” And with that, he’s gone, but you can’t blame him—you know how busy he always is. The word "darling" bounces around in your head, a reminder that this isn’t a dream. He really does like you.

Thursday night is spent stressing over what to wear. You know Alex will show up in his usual suit—one of his quirks that drives you wild—but you don’t want to overdo it. It’s just dinner, but your work clothes won’t cut it. You certainly can’t show up in sweats to a date with Alex Turner.

You settle on a dress you haven’t worn since your ex-classmates wedding to her now ex-husband. It’s not the nicest, but it will do. You have a sneaking suspicion that Alex would like you in a trash bag anyway. You roll the dress up and tuck it in your bag—no way you’re wearing it to work where it’d end up covered in marker and spit.

Friday’s anxiety convinces you that you’re doing your job horribly. You must have forgotten something or messed up because your mind is all Alex, Alex, Alex, like he’s a parasite who’s crawled into your brain.

Knowing he’ll be home around 5:30, you start getting ready at exactly 5:15. You make sure to look presentable, curling your hair and applying a layer of concealer. He’s seen you at your worst—covered in child vomit—but you still want him to see you at your best.

Right on time, he unlocks the front door, and Ayla immediately bounds over to him. He laughs, picking her up and setting her on his hip before his eyes sweep over you. You look good—you always look good—but this time, it’s something else.

He clears his throat, giving a small smile. “You look that good to me?” You don’t want to blush, but you’re sure your face is bright red. Of course, you dressed up for him.

“Nah. I dressed up to get spit on,” you joke, stepping forward and ruffling Ayla’s hair just like Alex did. He smiles at the closeness, free from the stresses of the day and surrounded by the people he cares about the most. It’s a good feeling.

He chuckles at your words, raising his eyebrows and making a quizzical face at his daughter as if she’s hiding something. She just babbles, reaching out to pull his sunglasses off and throw them on the floor. Alex shakes his head, pretending to care. You laugh, silently thanking her for letting you see Alex’s eyes again. He really does have the nicest eyes.

“Those were my nice pair, you rascal.” You’ve never heard him upset and this is no exception, even when he’s pretending to be upset he still has so much love in his voice. “Y’know I was gonna surprise ya by taking you to Uncle Matt’s for the night but it seems like you’re being a little punk tonight.” The girl immediately cries out and shakes her head, protesting just the thought of not going to Matt’s.

“Aw alright, you’re too darn cute to deny. Plus I have to do things anyways tonight.” This makes Ayla clap excitedly and make small noises, Alex giving her a smile before looking up with a wink. You secretly knew that the plans he had tonight consisted of you, and you wink right back at him. “You pack her night bag?” He asks you, it was the one thing he asked in the morning so of course you did it. You were always 10 steps ahead and he loved that.

“Mhm!” You nod and gesture to the pony-printed bag behind you. It was a gift you had gotten her for Valentine’s day earlier this year. Alex nods and walks over, daughter still in hand, to grab the bag and swing it over his shoulder. He’s signaling that it’s time to go.

You follow after him silently into his black sports car, taking Ayla from him to help buckle her into her carseat. You hop in the passenger's side and he sets the radio to the kid’s channel. Alex looks back at his daughter with a wide grin, even if he doesn’t particularly tolerate these songs he knows that it makes her happy. He starts to sing along to some song about waffles, god it’s awful but somehow his crooning makes it sound like a 1950s love song. You smile at the scene while Alex pulls out of the driveway.

That’s how the whole drive goes, it’s only about 15 minutes but all 15 of them are spent with Alex singing his heart out just to please his kid. “Is this on the new album?” You remark with a teasing grin at one song about silly snakes, Alex just laughs and reaches out to gently swat your arm.

That moment confirmed to you that your relationship with Alex had changed, not a single other person you worked with would have touched you. And Alex wasn’t just touching you sexually but he was touching you in a warm, familial way. For a second it felt just like you were old lovers and your kid, not what you really were.

It’s an easy handoff to Matt, Ayla is excited to see everyone and all you really have to do is hand off the night bag, Alex trusts them enough that he doesn’t even consider worrying for the night. When he’s sure the door is shut he takes your hand in his, leading you back to the car. You’ve come to love his hands; they were gentle and warm, yet also calloused from years of experience. They were the most Alex Turner hands you could possibly think of.

He starts the car again, making sure to shift the stereo to his personal mix of 2000s garage rock and 1960s french jazz. It was such an eclectic combination but it told you everything you needed to know about him, you felt warm as he hummed along to the words you didn’t really understand.

The restaurant was about a 30 minute drive, it was mostly silent besides the few times Alex pointed out things in the city. He showed you which venues he had played and which stores he had shopped in, he made sure to recommend the sweaters at some luxury store that you couldn’t pronounce the name of. When you told him you loved his sweaters he made a mental note to get one for you for the holidays, or to lend you one of his own.

Like he said, the restaurant is formal but cozy. It reminds you of something from Lady and the Tramp, or maybe Ayla had just made you watch that movie on repeat in the past week. He hands the keys off to the valet worker and grabs at your hand again, leading you inside.

“Turner, party of 2,” he says to the hostess with a smooth voice, looking over at you to remind you that you’re his party, his date. The hostess grabs two menus and leads you to a secluded booth in the corner. There’s a candle and roses on the table, which you didn’t notice at any others. Maybe he had done that special just for you.

He orders the two of you a glass of wine and a basket of bread, pointing out his favorite items on the menu. You decide on some fancy seafood pasta, Alex mumbling that it was a good choice.

This is your first time ever alone with Alex for a prolonged period, you’re not quite sure what to expect. He starts the conversation off easily, asking about your day and telling you about his. The endless flow of drinks and food (everytime you ask to order something he says yes - reassuring you that he couldn't care less about the price) makes it all really easy. There’s just chemistry between you and Alex.

He tells you about touring and you tell him about your childhood dog, he tells you what it’s like to be famous and you tell him about your experience in college. There’s such a difference in lifestyles but it doesn’t seem to matter at this moment, he’s completely enthralled by your life. It almost feels like you’re sharing similar experiences, he understands everything you say and is able to respond in such a damn charming way.

The food is unreasonably good, like maybe in the top five you’ve ever had. The flavors are rich and you wonder for a second how you’ll go back to fast food and microwaved dinners after this. At some point Alex decides he wants a bite from your plate so he puts his fork in it, there’s an awkward clash of arms that has you both giggling.

“You want some of mine? It’s only fair,” he asks you, a small amount of pasta sauce stuck under his bottom lip. You want to reach out and fix it but you’re too preoccupied with his words. You give a nod and he picks up his fork, grabbing a piece of chicken and bringing it to your lips. You were totally fine with getting your own bite but he had different plans, and the scene made you feel more like you were in Lady and the Tramp.

His food was also too damn good and you let out a satisfied groan, him grinning and reaching out to clean your lip. You figure since he did it you can do it too, so you take your thumb and gently wipe down his lip. It’s a quiet sort of encounter but it’s full of so much tension and unspoken words, god why was pasta sauce turning you on?

He finally removes his hand from your face and wraps his arm around you, pulling you to his side. You can tell at that moment that you’ve crossed a bridge and probably won’t be able to keep your hands off each other anymore, it’s good that there isn’t that much food left.

He keeps his arm tight against you as you eat, like he’s afraid you’ll run on him. The food doesn’t take too long to finish, at least on your behalf. It’s so good that you can’t stop filling your mouth. And when you’re done and Alex has a bit left it’s a treat that you get to watch him eat for a second, his mouth alternates between telling stories and chewing, his perfect lips always moving.

The waiter asks if you want dessert but you two were both too full, and Alex gives you a look that says he has dessert prepared for later. It’s a silent promise that reminds you of what happened last time we were together and has your heart beating faster in anticipation.

He pays the bill (you don’t even bother to look at how many figures are on there) and then takes you back to his car. His hand never leaves your back, sometimes drifting down to the curves of your ass. The valet man hands him his keys back, he tips heavily, and you’re heading back to his place. Nervous anticipation fills both of your throats.

“That was maybe the best food I’ve ever had.” You tell him as you take a seat in his car, buckling your seatbelt and smiling at him.

He nods and hums, following your actions and expression, “Glad you think so. I’m pretty fond of it myself.” He starts the car and his music begins to play again, you had heard this song before. Maybe because of him. “I really like that dress on you sweetheart, so damn gorgeous.” He breaks the silence after a minute, voice husky and smirk on his face. He did mean the sexual connotations behind his words but he also just really liked the dress, you were a gorgeous girl and seeing you dolled up for him was lovely.

“Aw thanks.” You reply, feeling your face heat up a bit. You still weren’t quite used to his compliments, he shouldn’t be saying you looked gorgeous when he looked like a damn god. He drives in silence for a second, taking occasional glances over at you with that smirk on his face.

“I have a confession to make...” he gives you a devilish grin, a small laugh trying not to escape him, “I get really touchy feely when I’m a bit drunk. But emphasis on the touchy part.” And then he laughs, he really can’t hold it in and neither can you. He has you laughing while simultaneously attempting to not pay attention to the burn between your thighs.

He smiles back at you, he loves your laugh, and then turns the stereo up a bit. He wants to get you back home and fast, this week of waiting for you has just driven him crazy. You’re able to get comfortable and let the music distract your busy mind, your eyes stay peeled to the window so you don’t notice how his hand is flexing against the steering wheel.

He leads you to the kitchen when you get home, the same place this all began. He opens the wine cabinet and starts to look, but you interrupt, “I shouldn’t drink anymore, I don’t want to be hungover at work tomorrow.” He nods and lets out a small sigh, that’s right. You were his daughter’s damn babysitter, not a girl he brought home from the bar. He has to repeat this thought as your cleavage is right in his face. “Yeah, that’s fine...”

Another second of silence fills the room, you know what he’s thinking about but is too shy to say. It’s a bit endearing how he doesn’t want to come across as too forward. “Alex... if you want to fuck me you can just say it. I can see you staring down my tits.”

He’s halfway through a drink of wine when you say this and he ends up coughing it up, he didn’t expect you to say anything. Good, maybe he wasn’t the only one being so sexually desperate here. “Right... well I think I’d like that.” He regrets saying that instantly, it sounds so stupid. He wants to fuck you with ever fiber of his being and he’s saying he “thinks” he’d like that. God he feels like an idiot.

He was still shy, and to be honest so were you. It had been a while and the first times with anyone were always scary. But you still nodded at his words and tilted your head towards his bedroom, if there was anytime nerves would be the lowest it would be now when you were both a bit tipsy.

Alex swallows and takes the lead, grabbing your hand and leading you to his bedroom. You had been there before to grab things for the kid before but this felt different, you weren’t there for your job. You were in his room and you were about to have sex with him.

Before you can finish looking around he grabs you by the waist and captures your lips in a searing kiss, too much pent up desire to wait for any longer. You’re caught off guard but still end up moaning into the kiss, Alex can only think about how he wants to hear more of those moans. Something must’ve taken hold of him because he gets the confidence to push you towards the bed, starting to work at the zipper with his long fingers.

He gets the zipper all the way down and you can barely register it before your dress is on the floor, leaving you in your underwear set. It wasn’t really the nicest but it still had Alex’s breath hitching. “Fucking gorgeous body. You know I’d return the favor from last time but I think if I’m not inside you soon I might perish and die.”Always one for the dramatics.

You give a small giggle at his words, reaching your hand out to gently palm his prominent bulge through his trousers, he hisses at just the littlest bit of contact. There’s a tangle of limbs as you try to get his clothes off and he tries to get your lingerie off, it’s awkward and messy and you almost feel like a high schooler again. Everything about Alex makes you feel like a high schooler again.

After you’re both completely undressed he joins you on the bed, pushing you back and settling on his knees. He starts to gently part your legs to look at your soaked cunt, running his middle and pointer fingers through the folds to collect your wetness. “Your cunt is pretty too, you know that? I think I’ve changed my mind, I need to taste you.”

Before you can even respond (which you probably wouldn’t have been able to respond with words anyways) his lips are attached to your sex. You let out a loud whine and attach your hand into his hair, pushing him deeper. He brings his mouth up slightly higher and his nose budges at your clit, that perfect fucking nose. It’s only been a minute and he already has you shaking and letting out endless streams of whines. He’s reveling in your taste, he thinks he could survive purely on the taste of your juices.

He develops a rhythm of licking at you, sucking at your clit, and peppering kisses along the sensitive folds. It’s intoxicating and you’re sure the words you’re saying don’t make sense, the only ones you can recognize coming out of your mouth are “Alex” and “Fuck.” He’s obsessed with your cunt but at the same time he’s hard in a way that’s making him uncomfortable, so he pulls his lips away much to your whining protest.

“Shh.. shh... sorry sweetheart. I just need to fuck you now,” he says in a voice smoother than butter. As he shifts to having his hips in between your legs your eyes meet the throbbing member in front of you. The head is red and you can see the pulsing. Yeah, it makes sense he needed to fuck you. He takes his time to line his head up with your folds, he needs that first thrust to be perfect as silly as it sounded.

After he decides on his placement he places his hands on your shoulders and starts to push himself in. It’s a stretch for you but in the best way, you hadn’t been filled by a cock in so long and now the most beautiful one was opening you up. Your tight caverns had Alex matching your groans, leaning down so he can kiss you again.

“So. Fucking. Perfect. And all mine.” He says in between kisses, starting to move his hips at a pace that has you both satisfied and begging for more. You’re his, you’re completely his. If there was any question about it before. You didn’t care that he was technically your employer anymore, at this second he was your lover and maybe the best lover you had ever had.

“Yes Alex, I’m yours. All yours,” you moan out, every thrust causing new goosebumps to arise on your arms. “Now fuck me harder, please.” You add on, causing him to laugh.

“Your wish is my command, sweetheart,” he says before picking up the pace. He starts to slam into you at a brutal pace, still littering your neck with kisses. If that wasn’t enough he starts to pinch and roll your nipples in his fingers, all the sensations making your eyes roll back. You knew your orgasm was soon, and Alex knew it too. You both wanted this too much to hold on for much longer.

Your moans start to become one constant stream of noises and his grunts start to become more guttural, the coil in your lower stomach was starting to build up and you just needed to push towards that release a bit more. He took note of this and brought his thumb from your nipple to your clit, circling it quickly like if he didn’t make you cum, he’d be executed. His own release was nearing and he could feel himself start to twitch inside of you.

“Can I cum fuck - inside?” He groans out, always the gentleman. He’s really damn turned on by the idea of cumming inside before but he’s seen what that can do before and doesn’t exactly want to deal with that again. You nod your head, you’re glad he asked but you’ve been on birth control since you were 15 for period cramps.

“On the pill!” You scream out. And it’s so embarrassing but that’s the last thing you’re able to say before the coil inside of you snaps and you’re cumming all over his cock, your walls squeezing him deliciously. He’s decided that making you cum is his new favorite thing in the world, the noises you make and the way your body is reacting drives him to his own release. With a final thrust and groan he’s leaning forward against you and emptying inside of you.

He cums a lot; you knew that from sucking him off, but now it was inside of you. And even when he pulled out, despite missing how he felt, you still felt pretty full. You were full of his remains; he likes that just as much as you. He spends a second to smile at your spent cunt leaking him before he snaps out of it.

"I'll, uh, I’ll get a towel, yeah?” He says, still catching his breath, before walking off to grab what he said. You miss him for the two minutes he’s gone, and when he returns, you feel like he’s just gotten back from war. He gently cleans your sex off and then puts the glass of water aside for you on the nightstand.

Collapsing onto the bed next to you, he pulls you into his side, placing a kiss on your temple. “That was perfect; I hope you let me do it again.” Of course you’d let him do it again; you’d let him fuck you right now if you weren’t kind of tired.

“You can fuck me whenever we both have the time; that’s my promise to you. And maybe we’ll go to that restaurant again? It was good!” He chuckles and nods, playfully ruffling your hair and placing another kiss on your head.

“I’ll take you wherever you want; you're mine now, and I mean it.” He pulls you against your side, and you know the truth to his words—you were entangled with him, whatever the implications were. You were his. And now you were about to sleep in his bed.

He wakes up before you; he knows he has to go pick up the kid from Matt's, and it’d be odd if you went too. He slips on a shirt and jeans for the day, more casual than he was used to, and lets his eyes roam over your sleeping form. Your nakedness was a reminder of everything you did that night, but your eyes closed, and the smile on your face was a reminder of the deeper meaning to it all. He couldn’t wait to explore that more.

He thought about you the entire drive to Matt's—not just how you felt under him but how you made him happy. He could’ve been embarrassed by how whipped he was this quick, but it was a long time coming. His mind drifts back to how pretty you were last New Year's when he had you take Ayla to the “family” party.

When he gets to Matt's, Ayla is beyond excited to see him, running up and pulling his leg into a hug. He hugs her back for a second and then gestures for her to walk to the car; he’s about to follow, but Matt stops him, placing a hand on his shoulder.

“Is there a reason you were holding hands with your babysitter last night, Alex?”

A/N: kinda hate this but i needed to get it out. title from jane eyre again <3 love dad alex

[iamred-iamyellow]

”you only like f1 for the men”

extremely loud incorrect buzzer.

[carsthatnevermadeitetc]

Chevrolet Astrovettes, 1969. The crew of Apollo 12 - astronauts Pete Conrad, Richard Gordon, and Alan Bean - ordered custom-painted Corvette C3s. Each astronaut ordered a matching Corvette Stingray coupe, powered by 390hp, 427ci Turbo-Jet V8 engines with 4-speed wide-range transmission and PosiTraction 3.08 rear axles. Bean (the fourth person to walk on the moon who passed away in 2018) played a key role in the design of the Corvettes, choosing the black on gold color scheme. The design included distinctive black “wings” styled by Alex Tremulis, the industrial and automotive designer. The C3 Corvettes became known as the Astrovettes with the only difference between the cars being the red, white, and blue badges on each fender used to identify which car belonged to which astronaut

[normalpeoplethiings]

if i didn’t have music, i would probably be dead.

[formulanni]

Dear lord please double Logan Sargeant’s misfortune and give it to the British this weekend 🧎‍♀️

Tag list: @st-leclerc @rubywingsracing @saviour-of-lord @three-days-time

[subtle-as-an-earthquake]

Late Night Berlin Music Special with Arctic Monkeys [X]

[alexturner]

+

[musicandotherstuff]

Alex Turner during The Car tour, 2023

📸: emmapicq (via am_bee_tbhc)

[jetskisonyourmoat]

[X] [X]

[dancingshoess]

ig story: @tbhclove

[alexscribed]

I'M LATE BUT IT'S ALBOINTS

[actual-changeling]

opened etsy and this is the first thing they showed me. i have so many questions and one of them is how many of these does michael sheen have in his possession

[raceweek]

“we’ll just do the nice simple stuff” proceeds to attempt to make the williams car the subject of an alien abduction

[uhbasicallyjustmilex]

🩵

[aacheinthejaw]

im losing my sanity

[oconist]

i don't blame alex, i blame whoever looked at the dnf and crash rate last year and said "we don't need a spare chassis, why would we?"