Blossom

Filming random clips of you throughout the day, just to annoy you. "It's literally for content y/n!" They never make it into the vlog.

For a man who's job basically relies on his phone, he's takes fucking forever to reply. Sometimes you'll be waiting hours, just for him to send you a TikTok instead of even reading your texts.

You rarely argue, but when you do it's over the smallest things. He loves to criticize your parking, or argue about who has the better music taste, (you, of course.)

His idea of affection is literal bullying, but god forbid someone even looks at you the wrong way.

Always has his hands on you. Driving? Hand on your thigh. Sitting on the sofa? Stroking your arm. Walking down the street? Death grip on your hand. (Defo got sweaty hands.)

You've realised that behind all the sarcasm and jokes, he's insanely protective of you, to the point it's overkill.

He rarely puts you on camera, only if there's something important happening, or you've asked him.

Loves having you all to himself, keeping his relationship private.

Obviously has his whole house filled with YoungLA clothes, and let's you steal as many as you want. You get first dibs on everything.

He's the most affectionate at night, when you're both alone and tucked up in bed.

He loves pulling you close, lips pressing against your neck with lazy sloppy kisses. Mumbling sweet nothings as you drift off in his arms.

Will hold you whilst you go to sleep every night without fail.

If you move from him in the middle of the night, you feel those strong hands grabbing at your waist, tugging you back to his hard chest.

Always thinking of you, it's the little things that matter to him. Gone to the gym? He's coming back home with an iced coffee? Mentioned once that you liked something online? Amazon next day delivery.

On the rare occasion you both have a bath together, you sit in between his legs whilst he makes you guess what he's writing on your back. You never get it.

Dates are organised by him, he loves to take you out, show you off after getting all dolled up for him. Truly so grateful to have you.

Despite not showing you on camera much, he talks about you in every video.

You have become a segment on the pod, Cal and Chip are both equally invested in listening to him talk about you.

"She's literally my soulmate bro," "Wow man,"

Lastly, he's the first one to say "I love you" You're his first proper girlfriend, and he cannot contain himself. You're probably sat watching him edit, complete silence other than him clicking and typing. He turns to you, gives you that signature smile and just says it.

The air in your flat didn’t quite smell of the saltwater and champagne scent that had surrounded you a mere week ago. Instead, you were back to the faint aroma of coffee, detergent and the lingering smell of something in your fridge you should have binned before the trip. It was quieter now than ever, no crashing waves as they hit the rocks, or drunken laughter as your friends spilt cocktails over the side of the boat railings. Worst of all, there was no Alfie.

Since parting ways at the airport, you felt a strange longing for someone who was meant to strictly be a friend. The memories of the boat party replayed in your head like a broken record, how his eyes held your gaze a moment too long, how his fingertips brushed an inch lower than appropriate on your waist. 

You reclined on your sofa, shifting to find your phone as a text message vibrated beneath you somewhere. Your heart leaped in your chest, praying it was from him. 

“You free tonight?” 

You must have reread his words three times before snapping out of your trance, nails tapping at the screen in quick reply. 

“Yeah ofc, see you soon!” You were about to hit send, stared at it for a second too long, before tapping once more. 

“Yeah ofc, see you soon! Xx” perfect.

An hour later and your flat was transformed. The stale coffee smell had been combated with something fresher, a citrus spray from under the sink. The dirty clothes had been expertly hidden from view, and even the questionable fridge item had been banished to the outside bin. You changed, replacing your pyjama shorts and questionably large shirt for something presentable. Jeans, and fittingly a hoodie Alfie let you borrow months ago after a messy night out. Staring into the mirror, you smiled at your reflection, pleased with what stared back at you. You had to remind yourself that this was just meant to be a friendly catch-up.

Three sharp knocks rapped on your front door, your heartbeat fluttering momentarily. You opened it, without hesitation. Alfie stood with a wide grin, effortlessly charming in his simple black t-shirt and jeans.

"You look nice, where'd you get that jumper from?" He grinned wide, sporting that stupid, shit eating grin.

"Found it behind a bin," You replied with sarcasm, throwing yourself onto the sofa as Alfie followed in tow, dropping his backpack onto the table with ease.

"What's in the bag Buttle?" You questioned, noting it looked rather full for someone spending a couple hours at their friends house. He gave you a quizzed look, confused, almost.

"I'm sleeping over, much to discuss babe."

You blinked, unsure if you heard him correctly. You gave him a look, half-laughing, half-questioning. Alfie smirked, stretching both arms out over the back of the sofa, behind you. Something in his tone made your chest tighten. It didn't seem like this was going to be the casual catch up you had expected.

It felt tenser somehow, as if this conversation was the make or break of whatever was going on between the two of you. Your heart weighed heavily in your chest, anxiety swirling in your stomach like hot burning dread and hope. A tinge of hope that was stopping you from breaking down all together. Alfie noticed your change in the mood, the way you seemed unsure of yourself all of a sudden.

"Hey, whats up?" He tried casually at first, not wanting to pressure you into answering. Yet you blurted it all out without him even having to push.

"In Monaco Alfie, we were," You could feel his gaze, intense and firm as if he knew your next words before you did. "We were different, not just friends, and I've been thinking about it all week now, and-"

Without uttering a word, Alfie leaned forward to capture your lips between his own, pouring every ounce of desire into the kiss he'd been anticipating since the trip. You pulled back, shock evident in your wide-eyed expression.

It’s late, a grey afternoon where the clouds pour with rain, the drops tapping softly against the glass on your window. Inside, you and Alfie hide from the downpour in the comfort of his living room, the warmth of one another's body heat combatting the outside chill. A soft amber glow fills the space, pouring from the various lamps dotted around the room. Candles flicker on the coffee table, emitting your favourite scent. 

On the sofa, the two of you are tangled together, arms and legs intertwined as if you were one. Alfie lazily stroked a hand over the bare curve of your shoulder, delicate in his motions. The touch was soothing, fading into the back of your mind as the two of you watched the tv. You’d both long forgotten about the once steaming mugs sitting on the table, the liquid now lukewarm. It was as if you were in your own little cocoon, hiding away from the outside world. 

“Darlin” He murmured, his voice a soothing break in the otherwise comforting silence. 

“Mhm?” You hummed in response, eyelids drooping already. 

Alfie’s thumb brushed the inside of your wrist, as if he was memorising each vein, freckle. The rain pressed harder now, a steady rhythm that made it seem like the clouds were breathing. It battered onto the glass, blurring the outside world until nothing existed but one another, his touch, his heartbeat against your ear. 

You felt his lips brush the top of your head - gentle, lingering until he moved lower. His body shifted beneath you, leaning further back into the cushions as strong hands hauled you on top of him. Blue eyes stared up at you, now sparkling with something that ran deeper than his usual softness. It was hunger, desire staring back at you, unblinking and charged with something that made you hold your breath. It was as if the whole room had gone silent, the tv now a faint whisper in the background. He didn’t need to say a word, one hand found the back of your neck with a possessive grip, dragging you down to meet his lips. 

When he closed the gap, it was far from gentle. It was desire, deep and aching, as if every part of him had been craving this - you. Fingers threaded in your hair, pulling you deeper into his hold. Letting go of you wasn’t an option, every touch was loaded, the brush of his tongue, the way your breaths mingled together as you gasped. His free hand skimmed the curve of your waist, memorising each dip and curve of your frame. Trailing further, he reached your bra, letting his fingertips toy with the fabric. You could feel your heart hammering against your chest, wild like a drum. 

“Baby, wait,” You mumbled against his lips, pressing both hands flat against his chest as you sat up. His lips were kissed swollen, glistening as he breathed heavily, eyeing you with blown pupils. 

“What’s wrong babe?” 

You swallowed hard, lips parting yet nothing came out. Your gaze dropped to your hands, nervously picking at the skin beside your nails. Alfie noticed, he always did. The way you fidgeted nervously, breath hitching whilst avoiding his gaze. 

“Hey, look at me,” Alfie cooed, hands reaching out to pull you away from pulling all your skin off. 

“Whatever it is, you can tell me, no judgment,” he treaded carefully, his words laced with honey as if to remind you that you're safe with him. He moved closer, forehead pressing to yours, close. 

“I’m a virgin.” You spoke softly, your voice small and laced with insecurity. The one thing you’d managed to put off saying, doing, was now out in the open. You had expected him to leave, to be filled with disappointment at your lack of experience, that’s how it usually went. Yet there were no snide remarks nor did he pull away. Instead, Alfied leaned back once more to resume his earlier position, dragging you back with him. This time he was gentle, holding you like you were made of glass. 

Soft hands found your shoulders, gently dragging down your top to expose your neck. He gave you ample time to pull away, yet now you weren’t so terrified. Alfie pressed hot kisses down the column of your throat, savouring every whimper that left you. He nipped and sucked, leaving purple marks that were sure to bruise. To show that you belonged to him. Your hips stuttered, feeling the growing hardness of him. It pressed firmly against you, where you needed him most. You could feel the heat blooming inside of you, unfamiliar but welcome. 

“Please,” You breathed out, subtly grinding yourself down onto him. Alfie wasted no time, manoeuvring the both of you so that he was now on top, hovering. It felt like a shield, a quiet promise that whatever happened they’d face it together. It was a weight that went beyond touch. 

With a groan he pulled back, making quick work of removing anything in between you. The clothes were discarded in a crumpled pile on the floor, quickly forgotten as his attention moved back to you. 

“Fuck, you’re perfect” You moaned, feeling his thick length pressing against you, hot and aching. He grabbed the base, sliding his cock up and down your folds, feeling your eager wetness coating him, preparing him. The atmosphere was heavy, thick, heated with longing, unrelenting want. The walls seemed to be holding their breath, a silent witness to the tension and hunger that fogged over you both. 

One arm braced itself behind your head, gripping the arm of the sofa to steady himself. The other remained on his cock, head dipped to meet your gaze as he guided himself to your untouched hole. You gasped, nails digging crescent moons into his biceps, teeth puncturing the skin of your lower lip. 

“Okay,” Alfie panted, trembling above you as his brow bone collected sweat. He was trying his best not to sink balls deep, to hold back the urge to feel you wrap around him right then and there. “Fuck, okay baby.” 

With careful precision, he rocked his hips, moving painfully slow as he notched the tip into your virgin hole. Even the tip was thick, an uncomfortable stretch compared to your own fingers. You let out a quiet sound, something in between pleasure and pain. Alfie let a minute pass before moving once again, inching further into your wetness. He kept a hand on your thigh, spreading you wide open to his hungry gaze. He couldn’t take his eyes off you, the way your face contorted as he sunk inch after inch into your virgin channel. Your walls hugged him with an intense grip, fluttering around his thick cock. 

“Alfie, it’s-” you whined, hips moving in an attempt to shift the discomfort. He soothed you with gentle pecks to your face, lips brushing over your flushed, delicate skin in a way he knew calmed you. 

“Shhh, we’re okay,” he breathed out, “you’re doing so well for me darlin.”

Time stretched slowly, the seconds like hours as he stilled, fully sheathed inside your tightness. Every breath, shudder was felt with a newfound intensity, as if the space between you was charged with something electric. Finally, Alfie began to move, withdrawing himself fully before thrusting back in with a wet squelch. His thrusts were intense in feeling, your thighs trembling as they wrapped around him, drawing him closer. 

“Oh fuck” You moaned, eyes squeezing shut as he found a steady rhythm that had you both moaning, gasping in pleasure. The lewd slapping of skin filled the room, your squelching wetness and his grunts drowning out the background chatter of the tv. 

Alfie could feel himself growing closer, each thrust becoming rougher, desperate as he chased the high building inside of him. Reaching a hand between your coupling, his thumb found your clit with ease, rubbing the swollen bud in swift, slick circles. Your back arched, chests pressed together as your climax hit. Pleasure shot through you both, white, hot pleasure that had you seeing stars. His thrusts became sloppy, sheathing himself balls deep into you as his throbbing cock spurted hot ropes, painting your walls white. 

He pulled you against him without thought, guided by the primal feeling of your skin against his own. Your breaths were loud in the now quiet room, mingling in ragged, satisfied pants. Chests rose and fell heavily against each other, desperate fingers clutching at anything in reach. Your lips found his in a messy kiss, exhaustion seeping into your spent frame as you shared breaths.

The bass from the club vibrated through the pavement, felt by the queue of drunkards curling around the building on a busy Saturday night. Alfie's arm hadn't left your waist for the entire night, fingers digging into your flesh in an act of possession. His touch was grounding amongst the chaos, as people chatted loudly and braced themselves against the building.

The queue moved quickly, and in minutes you were both inside. You had only made your way to the bar, barely twenty feet when the first girl approached. She was short, olive skin and jet black hair tied atop her head. She clutched a drink in one hand, and the other went straight to your boyfriend's arm.

"Oh my god! Alfie!" She squealed drunkenly, already reaching for her phone to take a photo. A sour expression crossed your face as she grew closer, her manicured nails raking over his bicep. Alfie didn't notice the twist in your face, the way she was too close for comfort. The girl was practically eye-fucking him right before you.

"You're actually fitter in person," She laughed, drunk and giddy. You stepped forward, not that you hadn't been right in front of her in the first place. Her eyes widened, before a knowing smirk tugged at her lips. You could feel the judgement flowing off her in waves, the way her eyes looked you up and down whilst fluttering her lashes.

"You do know that's my boyfriend?" Alfie stood awkwardly, staring wide-eyed as his usually docile girlfriend pushed in front of him.

"Sorry, didn't know babe,"

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The uber driver pulled to a stop wordlessly, eyeing the two of you in the back seat as the tension grew thick. Between your permanent grimace and Alfie's awkwardness, he was happy to be done with the trip. The both of you entered the Grotto in a huff, your heels kicked across the wooden floorboards and clattering as they hit the table leg.

"Alright, enough now." Alfie started, running a hand over his face with a shaky exhale.

"Enough? She was practically drooling over you in front of me, and you didn't even care" You're voice raised, an accusatory finger jabbing him in the chest. "And I bet you fucking loved it."

His face dropped, a scoff leaving his lips as he rolled his eyes at you, as if you were the childish one.

"Loved it? If you haven't noticed darlin', I can't exactly tell someone with a camera in my face to fuck off!" Sarcasm dripped from his tongue like venom, his taller frame towering over you. His breath was ragged, charged as if he were an animal about to pounce. You stood strong, unmoving like a statue rooted in its place.

The air felt heavy, charged like the calm before a storm. Neither spoke. Neither moved. Seconds stretched as both of them stuck to their stubborness, You could feel your heart pounding against your ribs, ready to crack, to explode with the sheer jealousy you felt.

He stepped forward first, his hands still shaking as they found your face with a sense of urgency. You didn't pull away, couldn't. The distance between you collapsed in a heartbeat, and his mouth met yours - fierce, desperate, all teeth and breath with pent up emotion.

It was anything but gentle - a collision, a surrender. He poured every ounce of frustration into the kiss until it melted into something softer, hungrier. Your hands found his shirt, tugging at the fabric, needing him closer. Alfie groaned against your lips, one large hand fisting into your hair at the root of your scalp. With a firm grip, you were pulled from the kiss, a string of saliva still connecting you. His eyes were wild, pupils blown with need.

"Get on your knees," He commanded, intense gaze leaving no room for refusal. You dropped, sinking down until you were eye-level with the straining bulge in his jeans. His jeans dropped to his ankles, boxers following to release his throbbing member. The tip pressed to your lips, leaky and pink. With one swift thrust, he pushed himself to the hilt, still fisting your hair as he guided your wet mouth over his cock.

"Fuck," he moaned, feeling your tongue graze over the tip, lapping up his precum. His hips stuttered, his eyes squeezing shut as sweat began to form above his brow. Your mouth was heaven. He could feel himself growing closer, balls tightening as his hips now lost their rhythm, grinding sloppily against you. You could barely breathe, hellbent on swallowing his load as you took him deeper, feeling his tip hit the back of your throat. Drool coated your chin and his base, eyes watering until he exploded.

You swallowed, feeling him spurt hot ropes of cum down your throat as he groaned. Finally, his grip loosened, allowing you to pull off his cock. As quick as he'd let go, his hand moved from your scalp to your chin, tilting your gaze upward.

"I love you, you know you're the only girl i'd ever want," He tenderly brushed his thumb over your flushed cheek, catching a stray tear as it fell.

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It started with a cough.

It wasn’t anything dramatic or a cause for concern,that was until he began to groan. Your head snapped up from the book you’d been reading quick enough to get whiplash, eyeing him with worry. 

“You okay? You sound like shit,” you questioned, aware he had a tendency to be rather dramatic. 

“That isn’t comforting at all, you know?” He sniffled, discreetly reaching for a tissue as if it were a sign of defeat. He quickly blew his nose, throwing the snot-filled tissue aside as he attempted to sit up. A deep ache ran through every muscle, head throbbing and chest congested. Letting out a wince, his brows furrowed and lips pouted. He looked adorable, that was before he opened his mouth again.

“You gonna tuck me in then darlin?” Alfie smirked, somehow still a smug prick even when hit with the flu. 

“Do you want me to?”

He shrugged, clutching the blanket in trembling fists whilst he wrapped himself up further. 

"Wouldn't say no…”

You tried your best not to smile as you sat down beside him, one hand reaching out to touch his forehead. He was boiling, somehow hotter than the flames crackling in the fireplace in front. “How can you be twenty-one and incapable of even taking an ibuprofen?” You grumbled, rushing to the kitchen to fish out medicine from the drawers. Sometimes you wondered if he’d even survive without you. 

Later on and you’d forced him to take medicine, kept him hydrated and practically mothered him for hours. Alfie looked peaceful as he slept on your chest, lips parted as soft snores filled the otherwise silent space. Gently you traced a hand over his face, caressing his heated cheeks with care. One eye cracked open, followed by a tired, barely coherent mumble. 

“My head fucking hurts,” his eyes squinted, as if even the candle flickering softly were too bright. You instinctively stroked his forehead, a soothing motion meant to help in any way possible. You bent down, pressing a kiss to his heated skin, yet before you could notice he turned, lips finding yours in a germ-infested smooch. 

“I’m going to get fucking ill now,” Alfie laughed, a smug, pleased grin tugging at his lips. 

“Guess I'll have to look after you now.”

Blurry FaceTime calls, midnight texts and liking instagram stories. The realities of a long distance relationship. Practicality hadn’t seemed to matter at the time, not when he first popped up into your DM’s with a cringe worthy pickup line. You’d laughed at your screen, a girlish giggle as you just stared at the message.

Alfie Buttle has sent you a message…

The notification had set off the butterflies in your stomach, fluttering and dancing with joy. You’d replied instantly of course. Becoming an influencer overnight hadn’t seemed real, you were still the same teenage girl who people somehow found interesting enough to pay attention to. And now you’d caught the attention of the brunette you’d been ogling over for months. 

Late night phone calls slowly turned into good morning texts, memes being sent throughout the day until one day he popped the question. “How do you feel about staying at mine this weekend? Saves you paying for a hotel” You could feel his grin through the skin, a boyish smirk with a mixture of hope. Who were you to deny him?

As the weekend arrived you found yourself a flustered mess, cross legged on your bedroom carpet as you stuffed the last of your belongings into an overflowing backpack. The zip refused to close, much to your dismay, despite your insistent tugging and grumbled swears. “Stupid fucking bag!” You snatched it up in a huff, throwing the strap over your shoulder before jumping into the car. 

“Omw! See u soon x” 

Three hours passed as you drove, singing along to the radio, one hand gripping the wheel and the other clutching a coffee you’d picked up along the way. The stupid paper straw had practically dissolved by the end of your journey, but nothing was going to dampen your mood. The smile tugging at your lips was infectious, a bright grin sure to make anybody’s day. 

Pulling into his driveway felt like a fever dream, your heart thudding louder than the engine. The car's soft hum faded as you put the car in park, you sat in silence for a moment. Everything had led up to this one nerve wracking moment. Your reflection in the mirror showed flushed cheeks and wide, expecting eyes, both excitement and nervousness all blended into one. The perfect storm. Was he watching you from the window? Were his cheeks as pink as yours? There was no time to contemplate as Alfie swung the front door open with a sense of urgency. Taller than you’d expected, the instagram photos you practically had memorised didn’t do him justice. Familiar, and completely new all at once. He walked toward you, arms open and inviting, and in that moment the distance seemed to melt away.

“Hi,” You whispered breathlessly, cheek to his chest. His heart was beating slowly, a relaxed and soothing rhythm contrasting yours. You could still feel your heart in your throat, intrusive and nerve wracking. “Hey darlin’,” He hummed back, pressing a delicate kiss to your hairline. 

Like a true gentleman, Alfie carried your bag into the house, ensuring your over packed belongings didn’t explode onto the ground. You stood awkwardly in the middle of the bedroom, taking in the space. Crisp white sheets on a perfectly made bed, nothing out of place as if he’d run round tidying just moments before. Alfie watched as you glanced around, now his turn to check you out. He let out a hum of appreciation, stepping forward to tower over you once more. “C’mere” he murmured softly, sensing your nerves. He dropped onto the bed, the mattress springs creaking beneath his weight. You joined him without a second thought, hypnotised by his gentle tone. He wasted no time in pulling you close, sharing the warmth radiating from his frame. “You’re warm,” you breathed, eyes closing as you nuzzled closer. “And you’re hot,” he laughed, leaning forward to catch your lips in a kiss. If it weren’t for the surprising affection, you would have rolled your eyes at the cheesy come back. 

You had spoken about this moment for months, half-teasing, half-dreaming. The air felt charged, heavy with everything you were yet to say. The kiss was soft, gentle at first as you found your rhythm. Real, raw, a culmination of months of longing compressed into a few stolen seconds. 

Alfie was the first to pull back, not bothering to speak in favour of taking you in. The sparkle in your eyes, the way it seemed like the entire universe had shifted.

The sun-drenched streets of Monaco hummed with excitement as the group made their way towards the yacht lined harbour. Drunken laughter, out-of-tune singing and chatter continued as everyone made their way onto the boat. It was gorgeous, expensive flooring, seating along with cameras everywhere. Taking in the scenery, you couldn’t believe your luck. Only months ago you were filming stupid TikToks in your bedroom, feeling the excitement of getting a hundred likes. Now here you stood, on a million dollar yacht with the people you once idolised. 

Becky interrupted your thoughts, one manicured hand grabbing your arm. “To the bar!” You followed, no room for complaints as she slapped down her card onto the bar and began listing off names of cocktails. “It’s fucking gorgeous,” you spoke a loud, gesturing to the scenery, the scent of saltwater wafting through the humid air. A giddy, drunken grin spread across her face, one hand coming to rest on your shoulder. “He’s gorgeous you mean,” She laughed loudly, watching as Alfie reclined on one of the loungers beside Will. He was shirtless, abs on show, biceps perfectly in view as sunlight highlighted each feature like a some kind of Greek God. “Fuck off,” You played it off well, keeping your cool. 

Your friendship with Alfie was complicated. In public it was seemingly normal, jokes at each other's expense, laughing, going out for drinks and crashing at his place when you took it too far. Yet nobody else saw the side of him that you did, with shared looks that seemed to last a second too long, his hand on your waist in a crowd. Small gestures that meant the world to you. But they shouldn’t. You were just friends…

“Saw you staring gorgeous,” Alfie sauntered over, black sunglasses now pulled up. Becky couldn’t help but chime in, a look of amusement tugging at her lips. “Knew I wasn’t making it up.” You could feel warmth spread across your cheeks, a delicate blush tinted pink. Alfie looked more than pleased, towering over you as he awaited a response. “You wish,”