⤷ ゛ells ˎˊ˗

mean!alfie who… meets you at a ukyt party after your friend Flo invited you as a plus one and is immediately infatuated with you.

mean!alfie who… is drawn in by how cute you are, how naive and aloof you seem to be.

mean!alfie who… lures you in with the promise of drinks on him, whispers of the dirty things he wants to do to you in your ear and a pill from his inner jacket “down for a good time girl?”

mean!alfie who… ignores you for weeks after, enough to make you forget all about him until a gift shows up at your front door with a note — ‘miss me? X’

mean!alfie who… turns up at your flat late at night and demands you let him in all fired up after seeing you with another man in a club, fretting about how disrespectful it is to him (you never question how he saw)

mean!alfie who… doesn’t quite get the message when you tell him you just want to be friends, that he’s too obsessive “i can be a bit much yeah, it’s calm girl…i’ll text ya” he doesn’t text.

mean!alfie who… disappears for a while, you don’t see him for weeks thinking you’d finally met a mature man who knew where he wasn’t welcome..meanwhile he’s had you followed everywhere, keeping tabs.

mean!alfie who… you only see at social events for the time being, all sweet and paying for your drinks, who grows on you and eventually you miss him (there’s no need to tell him)

mean!alfie who… barrels through your front door when he knows you’re about to go out for the night with a baggie, drinks and the promise of a night you won’t forget; you know you’re done for now.

mean!alfie who… gets you so addicted to him you’re begging on your knees every time he leaves, blowing up his phone when he’s filming.

mean!alfie who… despite making it seem like you were the only one obsessed and he could care less about you is madly fixated on you.

mean!alfie who… loves to rile you up as an excuse to ‘teach you a lesson’: leaves you on read knowing just how much you hate it, posts on instagram with girls he can’t remember the name of (or if they fucked, honestly), anything he knows gets you upset. he doesn’t really need an excuse, he knows you’ll take whatever he gives you anyway. he just wants to see you desperate.

mean!alfie who… hacks your phone, your social media, even your streaming apps just so he knows your wants, needs and all your plans.

mean!alfie who… spoils you rotten with everything he knows you can’t afford. “said you liked this Chanel bag, had to buy it didn’t i…i know i bought you shoes yesterday, what’s your point?”

mean!alfie who… leaves you financially dependant on him by messing with your bank behind your back, paying for your food shopping and ‘covering’ the extra hundreds on your rent you suddenly didn’t have.

mean!alfie who… drives you so crazy you have to quit your job.

mean!alfie who… even when he’s not around subtly controls all of your clothing choices, the things you eat, the places you go, the people you see.

mean!alfie who… breaks your heart over and over again by sleeping around and telling you all about how much better she was for him all while leaving you in radio silence.

mean!alfie who… disappears just long enough for you to get too vulnerable to say no when he comes back. (he always does)

mean!alfie who… constantly talks about how rude and disrespectful you are to him despite you never understanding what you’ve done. “getting sick of you acting like an ungrateful slut uno, not like i pay your rent is it? fix it.” you try your best to change you ways, but nothings good enough for him.

mean!alfie who… eventually knocks you up just so you can never leave him.

─── NSFW BELOW, MDNI !

mean!alfie who… makes it his mission to fuck you from the start.

mean!alfie who… gets you all high & buzzy on drinks the first few times under the guise of an extra good time to condition you to be addicted to him.

mean!alfie who… rarely ever has you in missionary because it’s too intimate for him.

mean!alfie who’s… favourite activity is slapping you with your cum on his hands just so it stings more.

mean!alfie who… will fuck you over and over without letting you cum just so you know it’s never about you “uh uh, who said you could cum you silly girl…what about me?”

mean!alfie who… has you wherever whenever he wants because you’re his to take even when you’re crying, begging, slapping him away.

mean!alfie who… makes you gag on his fingers instead of his cock because he knows it’s all you want and it’s easier to get you a sloppy disgusting messy.

mean!alfie who… makes you hump his shoe like a dog, sometimes even literally with a collar & a leash just to show much he truly owns you.

mean!alfie who… doesn’t let you touch yourself, even during sex because no one touches what’s his.

mean!alfie who… never uses a condom with you, pumping you full of cum every go desperate to breed you.

mean!alfie who… keeps a collection of photos & videos of you hidden in his phone for when he disappears and still desperate for you, cumming into his hand with videos of you crying on your knees for him forgotten on his phone:

mean!alfie who… shares them with his friends to brag about how obedient you are.

mean!alfie who… lets some of his nastiest friends use you in front of him when you’re getting too needy “so desperate for everything sweetheart, i couldn’t possibly keep up by myself, could i?”

a/n:i got so carried away with this. oops.

he definitely threatens it. all the fucking time. just like with all the nasty photos he takes of you, hidden away in a folder in his phone. you always think it’s just an incentive to make you do as he asks, though.

but then it’s the third time in a week you’ve not been home when he comes over. it’s almost like your friends are determined to get you in trouble. apparently new clubs are opening every 5 seconds by the way they’re going on, ones you will absolutely love and ‘get shitfaced enough to get your tits out again for that man, remember?’ you don’t really remember that, actually, but everyone including Alfie does.

now Alfie’s not against trekking all over London to find you and drag you home by the scruff of your neck, but he decidedly waits on your sofa for you instead. texts a couple boys he knows, the nasty ones he buys sniff off, the only ones who’ll be up for something like this. when you stumble through your front door with your heels in your hands and your skirt ridden up enough for everyone to see your ass, he greets you in the hallway. “we’ve been waiting all night for you, angel” you’re drunk enough that you’re seeing double, so you don’t even blink twice at the mention of ‘we’

he guides you to your bed, pulls all your clothes off and puts your phone on charge. asks if you need water or a tablet, and when he’s sure you’re fine he calls the guys in. “only i get to cum in it, yeah?” he just keeps talking like you’re not there. doesn’t even bother trying to talk to you. one of the guys takes to using your mouth and you don’t even struggle, except for a gag when he gets a little overzealous. alfie flips you over when he’s done and pours a line of coke out on your lower back to sniff before letting the other man take advantage of you. they’re sure you’re asleep, and even though alfie’s not sure either, he assures them it’s fine. you’re his anyway. he sits at your vanity with a drink, simply watching.

being fucked seems to sober you up. legs kicking, screaming enough to wake the neighbours. it scares the guy off a bit, trying to pull out but alfie pushes him back over you “use your weight on her aye? the slut needs it” he walks round to the other side of the bed so he can see your face, takes your cheek in his hand, makes you make eye contact with him and slaps the words out of your mouth. “you want to keep whoring out like that, this is what happens…should know by now sweetheart”

CUDDLING WITH ALFIE was by no means a rare occurrence. It was your weak spot, and you made the awful mistake of showing him that quite quickly. He knew no matter what he did as soon as he had you in his arms you melted straight back to that version of you that craved to serve, to please. You existed solely for him, as long as he put you back together at the end of the night, the week, the month. However long he had you cradled in his toxic webs, his muscled arms around you fixed it all every time.

It’s how he kept you around.

Even after a mess like today that will definitely end in you losing your job because this isn’t the first time you’ve got like this and it won’t be the last, even after destroying your kitchen, you’ll stay. You’ll call him when he’s gone, text him that you miss him and wait at his beck & call like every other time. He made it so much better after it’s hard to remember why you hated him in the first place: the dreaded cycle. He loved it and sickeningly you did too.

So there you stayed tucked into a ball in his lap, ear to his chest and letting the erratic beat of his heart soothe you down into that special place in your head where you don’t need to think. Your brain turns to mush quicker than it should but with the emotional turmoil you put yourself through, it’s anyone’s guess how you lasted as long as you did. In fact, you’re almost asleep curled up against him like a cat until a hand reaches around and starts ghosting between your ass cheeks.

“Better when you’re like this isn’t it angel”

His fingers catch on the sensitive skin between your legs and even though you don’t make a sound, he can practically feel the way your clit jumps. A few strokes over that sensitive nub is enough to make a sticky mess of your cunt, his fingers gathering it up just to shove it back inside your hungry hole with shallow thrusts, teasing, testing. Alfie wanted you to beg, but it was kind of a lost cause, honestly. The squelch of your grool as he pressed and pressed inside you was obscene, made just so much worse by how silent you were. Nothing to drown it out, nothing to make it worthwhile — your mouth remained disconnected from your brain though, much like the rest of you.

Before you know it, he’s shuffling his jeans down from underneath you, pulling his cock out and lathering it in the juices left on his hand. With an arm hooked under your knees, he thrusts up and impales you on him all in one go, basking in the tightness of your walls around him despite all the lazy fingering.

Everything’s lazy for a while, gentle, small movements and sweet nothings in your ear until your first whimper of the night chokes up your throat: that’s what makes him snap.

“You think you just get to kick up everything in your path ‘cos you don’t get what you want, hm?”

He slams you down on him hard enough that you’re almost sure you’re going to end up bleeding.

“Fuckin’… fuckin’ make fun of me? What I do?”

One hand is on your chest, squeezing and squeezing, definitely leaving fingerprint-shaped bruises circled around your tit.

“Did you forget that’s what funds your stupid life? Hm? You’d be dead without me”

He’s cruel and he means it with all his heart. And brutally honest enough that it snaps you out of your haze. The anger boils up too quickly for your body to handle, your head spinning and bile pushing at your throat to try to fight your way off of him. You scramble in his lap, slapping and scratching your way out of the quicksand that is his hold; you’re fighting a losing battle with him. In a weird fluke, you get far enough to land on the sofa next to him, unsheathing yourself and collapsing headfirst into the cushion, immediately missing the peace of being full.

“Leave me the fuck alone Alfie”

He drags you up by a clump of your hair, yanking your head back so he can see your face and hits you square on the cheekbone. The rings on his fingers collide with your face first, immediately splitting open the peak of your cheek and leaving a searing handprint on your skin. Tears immediately pool in your eyes and the sick grin you see on his face pushes them over.

“Don’t be such a bitch about it will you, you can deal with the consequences”

Alfie shoves your face into the cushion with the back of your head and pulls your hips up to face him now standing beside the sofa — he slides back into you with ease immediately returning to that vicious pace he’d started. You’ve given up fighting now, letting yourself collapse limply and be ruined, have your dignity stolen from you again. There’s no fight left in you, just a sour feeling in your belly and the stinging on your face. You know your blood is everywhere, down your legs, over your face and the couch fabric and it’s going to cost fortunes to get it dry cleaned. Alfie might pay for it, or even a whole new sofa, but you never know with him.

“Wouldn’t have to be like this if you were good sweetheart”

And of course he’s right. His fingers are fiddling with your clit again, strumming you like his own personal guitar and the way your belly jumps is a shock to you. How he manages to break you down to the smallest version of yourself and still have you melting in his hands is a mystery, you just obey whatever your body tells you when he’s around. The liquid gold in your stomach is bubbling so hot and so fast it doesn’t actually matter how angry or sad you are, he’s going to make you cum whether you like it or not. You scream as you tumble over the edge, soaking his hand with a small stream pouring down your leg.

“Look at you, you dirty girl…getting off on messing everything up are ya?”

His hand never stills.

“Fuckin’ gushing all over me, look at the state of you”

Alfie’s slamming into you, hips slapping your ass cheeks enough to bruise and balls colliding with your sensitive clit. You’re all screams now, unable to contain a single thing with the pain of lying on your cut face and your overstimulated cunt being abused. As his orgasm hits him, he pulls out and fucks the crease of your ass a few times letting himself spill out all over your back, leaving you a collapsed mess of bodily fluids.

“So beautiful when you’re like this angel, all quiet”

He disappears for a bit somewhere in the flat but you stay completely still, too afraid to move. He comes back with his phone and takes a singular photo of you in a heap; you don’t see the flash, but you feel it. You stay there just breathing and gathering your bearings for ages waiting for him to leave or maybe start ranting again. That’s what he normally does. But then he climbs back on the sofa after kicking his shoes off by the table, lies behind you and tries to pull you in.

“Leave me…please”

Your voice is barely there, lacks the conviction you need to really mean it but you still try to get away. With your legs now seemingly made of jelly all you can do is flop onto the carpet and lie there to die.

“Don’t be silly come ‘ere”

Alfie pulls you back up with his arms under your armpits, dragging you to lie chest to back with him and wrapping you in his arms. His hold is tight, a preemptive in case you tried to run again when he’s caught off guard but you both know deep down you’re barely alive enough to know your own name. He gently traced the lines of your face with an index finger until he reached the cut on your cheek, dusting over it before reaching his head around to give it a single light kiss.

“You know I don’t mean it, don’t you?”

You nod smally, though you don’t really know a thing about him. Just agreeing because he’s the only voice of reason left.

You wake up in the morning still on the sofa, but no Alfie. The flat’s clean and your cheek is plastered up, a brand new laptop on the table, too. A single text on your phone screen from him tells you this is all temporary.

alfie: Do it again u no where that photo goes. X

Alfie was in one of those phases again. The ones where you wake up to gift boxes on your bedside table and new tracking information in your emails every few hours, always something expensive that you’d never buy yourself. Always something you really really wanted but could never afford on a salary like yours. It was almost thoughtful, honestly. He enjoyed spoiling you deep down, although he tried to hide the little grin when he gave you the pair of shoes you’d been talking about you know he does. Alfie’s not someone to do something willingly that he doesn’t like.

The bonus of him getting like this apart from the obvious was that you saw him more often. Sometimes he’d find you at work and your coworkers beg to know why AB of all people is dropping off Selfridges bags in your office; you never truly have an answer for them. Alfie even bought your mum a gift once after you’d mentioned wanting to get her something special for Mother’s Day, but not finding anything in your budget. He’d shown up in the morning and offered to drive you there with it already wrapped instead of going to see his own, told you not to worry about it and he’d see her another day (he doesn’t). And worst, most shamefully, he’d had to take you food shopping a couple of times. You’ll never know how he knew you were behind on bills and your fridge had been empty for way longer than necessary, but he filled it enough to last you weeks.

It was no wonder how reliant you ended up on him.

You woke up to a new skirt folded on the end of your bed with a Red Bull still cold like it was fresh from the fridge — you must’ve just missed him. It was tight and almost definitely too short to see the light of day, but that was probably the point. Most of the clothes he bought you anyway weren’t for you to enjoy yourself or for a nice picture, it was all for him. To see, to tear, to ruin: just like you.

After getting yourself ready for the day and downing the much-needed energy drink you wiggled your way into the ridiculously tiny skirt. To his credit, it looked bloody brilliant on you. It was faux leather, baby pink with black details that laced up on either side leaving little inklings of skin visible through the strings. It pulled in at your waist just right and the bottom of your ass cheeks were definitely more than visible, but you loved it all the same.

You got down on your knees in front of the floor-length mirror on your wardrobe knowing that’s exactly what he wanted to see and took a few photos you thought he might like. With the angle you’re sitting you can see right up the skirt between your legs, revealing the lack of panties and the smooth skin of your most private parts. You’d be lying if you said that wasn’t on purpose, always teasing him and testing what actually makes him snap. He had his games he played with you and you rightfully had yours.

You sent a couple off to him while eating breakfast, and then you waited. Waited and waited, waited for literally anything from Alfie. A text, a photo, an emoji…fucking anything. By noon, you’d still heard nothing and the buzzing in your chest he always set off was loud. You were meant to be working from home like you always did on Tuesdays, but not a single email or document had even been looked at because you simply couldn’t close the chat and put your phone down. Sometimes you could rationalise your way out of this, because Alfie’s a weird guy with a weird sleep schedule and an even weirder work one but with all the excitement you’d had to show him the skirt, you’re having a hard fall off.

You checked his stories obsessively, because he had been posting and normally that would’ve made you worse, but he was with Chip & Cal so he was probably working. Being an adult way more than you were anyway. But then you opened Instagram and your hand slipped into his profile and his follower count had gone up a few and… It really wasn’t your fault when the keyboard on your laptop broke from the force of your fists and the smashed tea mug on the floor definitely wasn’t you either. There was an imprint of the enter key on your wrist and tea everywhere but that was the least of your concerns, actually. Hot tears streamed down your face and god, anyone would think there was a loose zoo animal in your flat with the wails you let out but it honestly was not your fault.

It’s all his, like always.

When you frantically open your phone with wet and bloody hands to call him, he shockingly answers.

“Y’alright girl? In the office”

How can he act so casual at a time like this?

“Alfie, Alfie where have you been?”

“I’m working darlin what you after?”

You can faintly hear Cal asking if he’s chatting to a ‘jezzy’, and the way he laughs back makes it all boil over. You go on and on and on, screaming into the mic about how mean he is and how you hated his stupid presents. That he doesn’t even do anything in that office anyway, just sits around looking pretty and getting paid for it so he has plenty of time to text you back (that one stings a bit). You don’t give him any room to speak for ages, just rambling through sobs like there’s no tomorrow until you pause to catch your breath like you always do.

“Such a silly girl aren’t you, interrupting my job, making fun of my job even, aye? ‘Cos I didn’t give you enough attention?”

You give a pitiful hum of agreement. He’s always right about you, even when you don’t like it.

“Clean yourself up”

Alfie hangs up without saying anything else, waiting just long enough to know you’ve heard him before cutting you off.

You in fact don’t clean yourself up, or anything, actually. The broken porcelain still all over the floor and smashed laptop stare at you accusingly but you just can’t bring yourself to touch them. You stay planted firmly in that dining chair until your ass is numb and you’re seeing faces in the walls. Hours go by maybe, there’s no way to tell until the sun starts to set and it dawns on you that you wasted an entire day here. All of that work you’ll have to catch up on tomorrow and the berating from your manager, it’s never even worth it.

Alfie walks in at some point, starts fretting about you hurting yourself and clearing up the mess you made around you. Apparently, it wasn’t just the mug or the laptop you broke, your phone was smashed and in his words ‘you’ve mashed up your hands ‘ere girl, proper gnarly that’. You’re not really in your body enough to listen to him, sitting limp and unfazed while he works around you. He knows this is his doing, knows it’s easily avoidable. And while he’ll pick up the pieces and mop the floor, he’ll never feel bad enough to stop.

When he’s sure it’s clean enough that you won’t cut your feet, he guides you over to the sofa and lays you across his lap.

“Just need a little fixing don’t you, aye?”

He pulls your pyjama shorts down to around your knees and strokes over the supple globes of your ass, squeezing and pinching, and stroking over it again. Alfie’s always said it’s one of your best assets, and it’s hard to disagree with him. He’s humming the tune of something that you don’t quite recognise, but it’s light and calming in ways he never is. You think for a moment he might be feeling regret, but that’s not something he knows how to feel.

“Gonna help you now angel”

The palm of his hand comes down on your cheek harder than usual, a resounding slap ringing in the air and bouncing off the walls. You cry out a little at the contact, but he knows he’s not hurt you. He hits you again, and again until he thinks the smoke in your head has cleared. A good spanking always brought you back to earth, sometimes the only thing that will truly get through to you when you got like this — good thing he knows you inside and out.

“Come ‘ere then”

Alfie pulls you up and helps you into his lap, sitting sideways while he cradled you in his arms.