you treat alfie to a nice evening of dinner and wine, but when it comes time to get to business he runs into some… trouble.
pairing: alfie buttle x fem!reader
content/warnings: drabble, alcohol consumption (wine obv), somewhat sexual content (no smut), making out
notes: need myself a little picnic date tbh
alfie had been out all day, sorting out some admin at the fellas office. you decided to surprise him when he got home with a romantic, cozy evening in together.
you’d set up a makeshift picnic blanket on the living room floor. the cozy date you’d planned was complete with candles, pillows, and some steak and potatoes (that you had ordered in, you wouldn’t be caught dead cooking).
you also decided to bring out a fancy bottle of wine you’d tucked away, just because. you poured two glasses and set them out with your dinner.
"alfie!" you smiled as he came through the front door. you jumped up and threw your arms around him.
"hey, girl." he pressed a kiss to your lips, before pulling back and raising an eyebrow at your picnic. "what’s this?"
"our picnic," you said, grabbing his hand and leading him to sit down. "i thought it could be fun to treat ourselves, just because."
you guys chatted and enjoyed your dinner, having a much needed catch-up session. you were so engrossed in chatting that you didn’t realize you had finished your bottle.
"oh," you said, setting it aside. "we slammed that bottle, jesus."
alfie smirked, wrapping his arms around your waist and burying his face in your neck. "i’ve got something to slam you with."
"how romantic," you rolled your eyes, wrapping an arm around alfie’s shoulders. as much as you rolled your eyes at him, his corny lines somehow worked on you.
he pulled his head back, looking into your eyes as he gripped your hips in his big hands, moving you to straddle his lap. you waisted no time wrapping your arms around his neck and smashing your lips to his.
his tongue slipped into your mouth, you guys falling into your familiar rhythm of tongues and teeth. you kissed messily, your hands running up and into his hair, giving it a gentle tug.
you start to grind down in his lap, seeking that hard ridge for the familiar pleasure it always brought. however, even as you ground down in his lap again and again, that ridge never appeared.
you froze a bit, worries flooding into your mind. why couldn’t he get hard? was he not attracted to you anymore? was he seeing someone else?
"christ," alfie pulls away, scratching his chin awkwardly. "this is awkward."
"is everything okay?" you asked.
alfie nodded. "yeah, i just think all that wine is fucking with me. i’m having some… trouble getting it up."
"oh!" you sigh in relief, getting off alfie’s lap. "that’s fine, i don’t care. i was worried you secretly hated me or something."
alfie’s brows stitch together. "’course not, the fuck?"
suddenly, alfie grips you again, pinning you beneath him on the floor and peppering kisses across your collarbone. you laughed, hands dancing through his hair again.
"alfie! what are you doing?!"
he picked his head up, hands slipping beneath the hem of your shirt. "showing you how much i love you. if you think i need my dick hard for that, you’re wrong."
