#ab fic

MUGGY. THAT WAS one word you’d use to describe the temperature in Portugal. It was slightly warm, but the air felt thick around you.

The group had started the trip on a negative note already, as Chip had accidentally claimed someone else’s bag and then spent an hour trying to find a decent car rental service.

There was a very amusing statue of Cristiano Ronaldo’s head outside the airport that the boys spent a brief while taking the mick out of before walking across the road to the main car park where the rental car was to be collected from.

Arabella was perched on Alfie’s forearm as he carried her around to stop her from whining about her feet aching.

Chip spoke in the lift, “The journey begins boys, who’s ready to get fucking—“

“I actually am pretty hyped about this one chat.” Alfie put on a funky voice.

“Yuck.” You muttered, causing Greg to laugh.

“For anyone wondering why AB’s mrs is here, it’s because she’s a controlling leech who won’t leave her boyfriend alone. Psycho.” Chip joked, “No, I’m messing. It’s because she wanted to come and they couldn’t leave Arab at home.”

“Buttle family outing.” Greg hummed.

“I’m not even part of the Buttle family.” You scoffed, holding your ring-less finger up to the camera, “Never have kids out of wedlock guys. They take the piss.”

Alfie gave you a dirty look, eyebrows furrowed and head reared back, “Excuse me?”

“You’re excused.” You shrugged before wheeling your suitcase out of the lift behind you once it had come to a stop.

“Top ten coldest Reader moments.” Chip narrated, “Anyway, I’m excited for the vibes. AB’s gonna get his beautiful body out.”

“You’ve been saying this all day on the plane.” Alfie said, sliding his sunglasses on.

“God forbid a white boy try and hype up his boys.”

“You’re not even white.” You chimed in.

“I’ve never had a mate that’s been more attracted to me than you.” Your boyfriend adjusted the backpack slung over his shoulders before jogging lightly to catch up to you.

“Mummy.” Arabella whined, trying to reach out to you.

“What?”

“Hold.”

“No.”

You wouldn’t have been opposed had she not been in your arms five minutes prior and begging to go back to her dad’s.

“Please!”

“Bella, can I hold you?” Greg tried.

The two year old seemed to think about it for a split second before nodding, letting her dad pass her over to his mate.

Alfie began explaining some previous events while taking Arabella’s suitcase from you, “We were getting off the plane and this— the flight attendant goes ‘Can I ask you a question, are you single?’ to Greg, and then he was like ‘I am’ and she went ‘You’re hot’.”

Greg pulled out proof in the form of a brown napkin with a number written down and the words ‘I think you’re really cute, never done this before lol’.

“How cute.” You smiled, raising your shoulders before dropping them.

“Oh, yeah, Reader’s fuming ‘coz the other one tried it on with AB even though he was carrying Bella’s bag and she was carrying her.” Greg laughed.

“That was ballsy.” Alfie nodded before holding his hands up, “Wasn’t a fan. Don’t appreciate the attention. I’m a taken man.”

“I’m not fuming.” You said, “I’m slightly annoyed.”

“I’m fuming for you.” Chip said, “I want his sexy body all to myself.”

“… What?”

“What sessy?” Arabella asked, face screwed up to block the sun from getting into her eyes.

“Alright, that’s enough of that.” Alfie grunted as he slung his backpack forwards to retrieve her little white sunglasses with flowers on the side from the front pocket. “What do we say?”

“Thank you, Daddy.” She grinned as he put them on her face.

“Very stylish.” Greg hummed in approval.

“Sylis.” She tried to replicate the word.

“Yep.”

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“I reckon I can touch this.” Alfie announced once you were under some shade.

The roof was quite high up, and as tall as he was already, you highly doubted he could touch the surface. He’d be lucky if his fingers grazed it at all.

“No, no jumping.” Greg spoke like a wound up parent, “Let’s do something proper.”

Alfie swung his arms back before leaping upwards and managing to touch the ceiling.

Once he’d done it, you ordered for him to lift you up so you could do it too. You grinned as you flattened your palm to it before he lowered you back down, patting your bottom lightly.

You looked straight at the camera, “Editors, make it so I did that all on my own.”

The boys then began discussing the plans of the day, going through the details of their gym session that would inevitably be happening because they made sure to rent a house with a gym inside of it.

“I can do arms. I can do arms.” Chip said when Alfie denied his ability to work out due to his ‘boob job’. “Speaking of my boob job, I need help tying it up.”

“I’m not tying up your corset, bro.” Alfie shook his head, “That’s where I draw the line with friendship.”

Chip suddenly lifted his shirt, showing off the strange, corset-like binder he was wearing underneath to support him after the surgery.

The spontaneous rapidity of his movement caused you to burst into laughter, leaning on the handle of your suitcase.

“You laughing at my boob job? Fine, but let me laugh at yours.” Chip said.

“What? I didn’t get a boob job.”

“He’s saying ‘coz your boobs got bigger.” Alfie chuckled.

“Yeah, Chip, breast feeding will do that to you.” You kissed your teeth.

It was an undeniable fact that your boobs had grown in size since having Arabella, and though they’d shrunk down a little since you’d stopped breastfeeding, they were still a cup or two bigger than before.

“This might be a, uh, personal question, feel free not to answer on cam, have you made love with that corset on?” Alfie asked.

“Yep— Errr, to who? My hand?”

“To someone excluding you.” Greg added.

“Yes.”

“Wow. That’s true love.” You hummed.

“You wouldn’t have sex with Alfie if he got his boobs removed?” Chip turned it on you.

“Me and Alfie have never had sex.” You shrugged, “And never will.”

Everyone went quiet as the camera panned towards Greg, who was still holding Arabella, the living proof that your declaration was a lie.

“I’m joking. I actually like his boobs.” You reached out, squeezing at his pecs, “Honk honk.”

“Bro!” Chip laughed loudly.

Alfie slung his arms around you, jolting you to the side aggressively and cupping your tits before squeezing at them and making the same sound.

“Alfie!” You screeched.

“You two are so strange.” Greg stared in bewilderment.

“Mummy boobs.” Arabella giggled, stretching an arm out herself.

It caused a wave of cacophonous laughter from everyone, including Frampton as the camera began shaking from it.

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Chip was doing a car reveal for the video when an elderly couple walked past, the woman taking a second to wave and coo at Arabella. The toddler beamed, waving back.

“You have a very beautiful baby.” She spoke to you and Greg.

It caught you off guard for a split second before you realised how this looked to any outsiders. With you being the only girl with a group of boys, and Greg being the one holding Arabella, any strangers didn’t have a much better conclusion to come to.

“Oh, no she’s not mine.” Greg laughed before turning to Alfie, “She’s his and hers.”

“Oh, right! Sorry.” The lady laughed, “It’s just because you were holding her.”

You snorted, looking towards Alfie, who was standing there awkwardly.

“Either way, she’s very beautiful.”

“Say thank you, baby.” You whispered.

“‘Hank you.” Arabella smiled, squishing her eyes shut.

Once the couple had walked off, she prodded at Greg.

“Down now.”

“Yeah? You walking?” He hummed, lowering her so her feet were on the concrete and she was making her way towards Alfie.

“Y’alright?” He blinked at her.

“Hi daddy.” She grinned.

“Hi.” He chuckled, “What you doin’?”

“Walk.”

“I can see that.” He nodded.

“Big legs.”

“… What?”

“Make big.”

Alfie grinned at the sight of his daughter trying to explain what she was doing, “Stretching your legs?”

“Yes.”

“Good, you should.” He hummed before pointing to you, “Go walk to mummy and back.”

Arabella did as he said, toddling over to you, losing a bit of balance but clutched onto your leggings for stability.

You let your hand drop down and rest on top of her head.

“You okay?”

“Mhm.” She muttered, focusing on her feet as she manoeuvred the other way around and stomped back over to her dad.

“In you go!” He grunted as he picked her up and moved to put her in the booster seat.

She let out a loud scream, clutching onto the outside of the car, “No!”

“What the fuck was that?” Chip mumbled.

You peered your head around the back of the car.

“Why you screaming?” Alfie frowned.

Arabella started crying out of nowhere, clutching her dad’s shirt for dear life, “No alone!”

You huffed, walking around and crouching in front of her.

“You’re not sitting alone. We’re all getting in the car. Stop screaming and stop crying.” You gritted out, wiping his cheeks with your hand, “You’re being silly.”

She nodded, sniffling, “Silly.”

“She alright?” Greg asked.

“She’s being dramatic. It’s because she’s hot. She’ll cry at anything.” Alfie explained.

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In the car, thankfully, Greg managed to have her in a laughing fit as he spewed off random words that sounded German. You weren’t sure if they were actual German words, or he was just putting the phonetics of the German language together, but it had Arabella cackling like a witch in her booster seat.

Cameras had been stuck to the front window so that Frampton didn’t have to film in the car journeys, and he could just sit in the back row chilling. You and Alfie were on either side of Arabella, while Chip was driving and Greg was in the front.

It took Chip far too long to figure out how to get out of the car park, but once he had, the drive was smooth, which you were overly thankful for because you didn't want to deal with Arabella vomiting.

“Look at this plane tryin’ to land.” He pointed out.

“Ah, yeah,” Alfie faked enthusiasm to peak Arabella’s attention, “Look Bells.”

She craned her neck forward, looking through the skylight “Plane.”

“That thing looks like it’s about to go down.”

“Chip!”

“Sorry.” He paused, “Did you guys ever used to lips up your own hand before you’d ever kissed a girl back in the day?”

“Yeah …” Alfie seemed unconvinced, “It’d be good if you didn’t swerve when you did that and wipe out my whole family.”

“Yeah, sorry, bro.”

You placed your hands over Arabella’s ears for your next sentence, “I never made out with my own hand but I used to practice giving head when I ate a banana.”

“What the fuck?”

“Did you know about this?” Greg turned to Alfie.

He nodded with pursed lips, “Told her to drop the banana and come give some real slops.”

Thankfully the conversation came to an end just as Arabella began whining about having her ears covered, pushing your hands away.

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Upon entry, the house was lovely. The floors were a chilling cold which felt amazing considering the heat outside, and there was so much space in every room.

The gym had to be one of the largest rooms there, and was undoubtedly going to be the one the boys spent the most amount of time in. You couldn’t say the same. You wouldn’t say your ideal habitat was in a gym room with four men while your daughter did god knows what halfway across the house.

“Look at the basketball chair. This is the only reason I wanted this gaff.” Alfie grinned, sitting down in the chair that was indeed shaped and styled like a basketball. “Bells, come.”

Arabella waddled toward her dad, “Ball.”

“Yeah, big basketball chair.” He hummed, picking her up and setting her in his lap, “Reader.”

You lifted your head out of your phone, looking at the sight and then awing before getting a picture that would undoubtedly be used in an Instagram dump on one of your accounts.

“Yeah, you’ve been messing with basketball chairs the whole time I’ve known you.” Greg played along, “And now you’re getting your offspring on it. I rate it.”

Alfie pulled a face, “Offspring?”

“Yeah, Arabella’s your offspring.”

Alfie adjusted, swapping places so Arabella was sat alone on the basketball chair and he was free to test out the gym equipment and darts board.

He wasn’t very accurate with his throwing, but he towed you into a bet of giving him head tonight if he got a bullseye.

He didn’t, in fact he missed one of the shots and the dart clattered to the ground, but he still glanced at you expectantly.

“You missed.”

“I won’t miss tonight.” He jeered.

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After a game of crocodile dentist, which was won by your boyfriend, he got to pick the biggest room to stay in, and that had you feeling like a smug winner by association as you unzipped your suitcase.

“Reader making herself right at home.” Chip commented.

“My fella won, I get to reap the benefits of that. Cry about it.” You gave him a fake smile.

The boys all cuddled together on the bed, Alfie uncomfortably sandwiched between the two of them, to which you stared blankly while Arabella stood at your feet.

He saw them out so the three of you could get well settled in the room, waving them off.

“I’ve got a rule for this room; no dirty piggies allowed.”

Greg burst out laughing while Arabella giggled from the bed, snacking on her fingers.

“Ah!” You snapped at her.

Sheepishly, she pulled them away, knowing she’d been caught doing something she wasn’t allowed to do.

You and Alfie had been trying to get her to stop gnawing on her hand whenever she got bored or fidgety, because quite frankly, it was gross and no one in public wanted to see a toddler’s slobber everywhere.

“I might as well just fucking wait for everyone to pick and you lot let me know which one I’m in.” Greg huffed as you all made your way down the stairs, “You fuckin’ muscly, stupid football playing charity match prick.” He aimed at Alfie as he followed right behind him, “Get here, I’m gonna fuck ya!”

“That’s my job, Greg.” You sighed, shaking your head.

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On the way to the restaurant you were having dinner at, Greg grabbed a ‘traditional Madeiran hat’ from a shop and refused to take it off throughout the whole meal.

The American diner was great, it was well decorated and the seats were comfy. The boys seemed to be umming and arring over the quality of the food, but you didn’t think it was too bad, and neither did Arabella.

She was back on Alfie’s lap as he tore up little pieces of the chicken tenders and blew on them so they were an appropriate temperature for her to eat.

She took the torn off piece and leaned forwards, stretching across the table to dunk it into the pot of sauce that Chip had acquired.

“Bella!” You gasped at her audacity to just take from someone else, “You have to ask, baby.”

She blinked from you to Chip and then down to her chicken covered in sauce, “Have please, Uncle ‘Ip?”

The boys weren’t half as bothered as you were, finding the situation rather funny instead.

“Yeah, ‘course you can.” He nodded, nudging the pot further in her direction.

“‘Hank you.” She beamed, continuing to eat.

You shook your head at her as she waved lightly at you.

“You have … sauce all over your hand.” Alfie grimaced, grabbing a napkin and wiping his daughter's hand over, twisting at her fingers to make sure they were properly clean.

“It’s literally just chicken in cornflakes.” Greg shrugged.

“Yummy.” Arabella spoke with her mouth full.

You gave her a stern, disappointed look, and she glanced up to her dad, expecting him to say something in her defence. Alfie shrugged and then held his finger to his lips, shushing her, to which she copied.

“I might’ve had a slight fumble here.” Chip admitted.

“Definitely.” You agreed.

“Nuh uh!” Arabella, once again, spoke with her mouth full.

“Bella.”

She stared directly at you and began purposefully babbling loud, disruptive noises while smacking her lips excessively.

You shrugged, “Alright.” and then turned your body fully away from her, having your plate in your lap instead.

“Uh oh, Bella’s in trouble.” Chip sang teasingly.

“No, mummy!” Arabella hit your back.

“Oi!” Alfie lifted his daughter, manoeuvring her to face away from you, “What you doin’?”

“Mummy—“

“No. You don’t hit people.”

“Y’know, it’s mad weird watching AB be a proper dad.” Greg spoke to the camera, while Alfie continued to scold Arabella gently, “Like, not ‘coz I expect him to be bad at it, it’s just … I dunno.”

“Mummy.” Arabella patted your back softly.

You turned back to face her.

“Mummy, hug?”

“Are you sorry?”

She nodded and you opened your arms for her. She beamed brightly, wrapping her tiny, pudgy arms around your midsection.

“That was good, bro.” Chip said to Alfie, slightly shocked by the way he handled the situation so maturely.

Alfie shrugged, “Dad life, ennit?”

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The evening was beautifully chilled. You and Alfie were lounging in your bedroom while Arabella sat on the floor (by choice) in her pyjamas, while watching a childish YouTube video on her dad’s phone, something about surprise toy eggs covered in Play-Doh.

Somewhere between talking casually and doing nothing, your lips had found his and had begun moving the rhythmic dance that was to blame for starting the very activity that was the reason you were parents at such young ages.

You couldn’t help but grin into the kiss, your hands coming up to cup his cheeks while his fell to your waist, slowly but surely turning his body until he was hovering on top of you.

It was when his fingers snuck round your front to slide beneath the waistband of your leggings that the both of you had to pull away and stop yourselves.

“Not while Bella’s in the room, Alf.”

He closed his eyes, groaning in annoyance before spontaneously standing up.

Downstairs, Chip was still filming for the video, talking mindlessly to the camera beside Greg while the football played on the large TV.

It was a very amusing clip to see Alfie come jogging down the stairs carrying his two year old, rambling off the title of some YouTube video for her to watch, dumping her on the couch and then legging it back upstairs.

Chip got a shot of him and Bella in the frame together, staring at each other through the camera, though he knew it wouldn’t be half as funny in the video because his editors were going to have to blur her face, so the viewers weren’t able to see the humorous blankness of her expression.

“Well, now we’re watching a … I don’t know, actually.” Chip hummed, panning the camera to the TV, which was now displaying a video for Arabella.

She was watching it very intently, despite having barely a clue as to what was happening in it. He supposed she was just very enticed by the bright colour of the Play-Doh and the cute toys that came out of the plastic egg.

He then turned the shot to include Greg, who was sitting on the other side of Arabella, phone face down and also very attentively watching the YouTube video.

“Doggy.” She giggled as a plastic doggy was opened up from a blind bag.

“Do you know what sound a doggy makes?” Greg asked her, “Sound, AB?”

“Woof woof!” She mimicked what she knew.

“Yeah, high five!”

Her palm smacked against his, and he pretended that she was far too strong for him, clutching his hand to his chest and making her cackle heartily.

“Just me and Window Kid entertaining little AB while big AB and his mrs have a shag up there— They’re definitely doing that by the way.”

“What, shagging?” Greg tilted his head up.

“Yeah.”

“Hundred percent, bro.”

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After yours and Alfie’s … strenuous activities, you hopped in the shower together, in which he handed you his razor and encouraged you to help him shave as neatly as possible. Once that was done, he then offered to do yours, and in response you blinked and told him you didn’t need help with that, but he insisted (“Nah, girl, I can get all up in there, trust. Spread ‘em.”).

You threw on one of his shirts and a pair of his boxers to head downstairs and join everyone else while he settled on a simple towel.

Chip already had the camera on and recording as you descended, the pair of you looking like you were doing the infamous walk of shame.

“First of all, bro, I just did, like, a half an hour shave of my whole shit.” Alfie laughed breathily, “Gave Reader the razor and told her to give me a low taper ‘coz I was bored.”

“Nah, your boy does a full shave for a Chippo vid.” Chip mocked.

“Your boy has an everything shower.”

“Your fella begs to shave your bush.” You added, startling them both.

“What?! AB, what the fuck!”

“Nah, nah, I don’t support deforestation ‘n’ that—“

Chip wheezed, “—Deforestation—“

“—But she did mine, thought I’d be gentlemanly and offer to do hers.”

“Right, well, enough of that. Go in there. Go in there,” He pointed to the bathroom, “It stinks so bad.”

You stood far back, picking Arabella up off the sofa and holding her in your arms while Alfie walked towards the downstairs bathroom, going over Greg’s ‘overflowing/ flooding shit’ story.

“Mummy.” Arabella said quietly through a yawn.

“I know, baby. Bedtime, okay?”

She whined in protest, but still buried her face in your neck.

Just as Alfie poked his head into the bathroom, he gagged, coughed and immediately walked away, ignoring any of Chip’s pleas for him to come back and do it again.

“Reader, smell it! Smell it!” He said excitably.

“Shh!” You shushed the man while walking back and forth with your daughter, hoping that soothing movement would lull her to sleep, “Also, no. I’m not smelling Greg’s literal shit.”

On the way up the stairs, Alfie paused to talk to Greg, who was fully naked in his bathroom with just his head poking out of the door frame. While they were talking, Chip zoomed in on Alfie’s chest, the camera picking up all the little hairs growing across his pecs.

“Did an everything shower but couldn’t sort your chest out?”

“What are you doing?” Alfie giggled.

“Couldn’t sort the chest out?”

“Bro, trust the process with the chest.”

“Oh, you tryna grow something new?”

“Reader likes it, so I keep it.” He gave an unbothered shrug.

“Alfie.” You hummed, looking down at where Arabella was drooling excessively while gnawing on her fingers.

“Alright, another one of those nights.” He sighed heavily, “Let’s just get her down and see if she sleeps through it.”

“What’s this?” Chip asked.

“She’s got her last baby teeth coming in and they really hurt at night. I apologise in advance if she wakes you up by screaming and crying.”

“Shit, it’s one of those?” He winced.

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Thankfully, she had gone down without much of a fight, and you both tucked her in to the little cot in the corner with a kiss on the forehead and making sure that her cow plushy was hugged tight to her chest.

Back downstairs, Chip thought it was funny to walk around, fully bent in half with his hands clutching his ankles. He looked like something out of a horror movie, especially in the low light of the living room only being illuminated by the football back on the TV.

“Eugh!” Alfie groaned, pointing at him.

He’d put on a pair of adidas shorts for now, which you knew would be coming off when you went to bed.

“Imagine he starts running like that.”

You gasped, sitting up.

Alfie looked at you, “No, no, no.”

“I can run in a back bend.”

“No way!” Chip cackled, standing up straight now, “Do it, do it.”

You stood, tucking the shirt into the boxers so you didn’t flash anyone, and arched backwards until your hands were on the floor whilst your head was upside down. You then began moving at an extremely fast pace around the living room.

Greg screamed, tucking his knees to his chest on the sofa while Chip writhed uncomfortably and bounced from foot to foot.

“Stop, man.” Alfie chuckled as you came right up to him, “Bare weird, girl.”

“That’s fucking disgusting.” Greg cackled, “Please teach Arabella to do the same and then both freak AB out at the same time.”

“Bro, no!”

It was like perfect timing, because the moment you stood back to full height, Arabella began shrieking upstairs.

“There we go, that’s the teeth.” You huffed, already making the move to go upstairs.

“Does she get nightmares?” Greg asked, scratching at his beard.

“Uhhh … not really?” Alfie replied, “Only sometimes but a quick cuddle and she’s alright.”

“Bella.” You cooed, flipping the light switch on and crouching in front of her bed.

“Mummy daddy!” She sobbed loudly, crawling towards you while suckling on the ear of her stuffed cow.

“I know, I know.” You whispered, lifting her up, “Alf!” You called out.

“Comin’!”

By the time he’d wrapped up downstairs with the boys and scaled the stairs, you’d gotten comfy against the headboard of your own bed, Arabella pressed up against your chest while still wailing.

You were trying to lull her back to sleep, shushing down her ear while stroking at her back and head.

She kept rubbing her jaw against your collarbone, seemingly trying to soothe the pressuring ache inside of her mouth.

“Hey.” Alfie spoke softly, closing the door behind him and crawling into bed beside you.

Her harsh waterworks restarted at the sight of her dad, craving comfort from the both of you.

He snuggled closer, resting his cheek on your bicep while stroking his thumb over her cheek, wiping her tears as they fell.

“Daddy, hurt.” She cried.

“I know it hurts, Bells.” He frowned in defeat, “I know.”

She reached out for his finger, trying to put it in her mouth.

“No, we’re not allowed to do that, remember? No fingers and hands in mouths.”

The rejection only hit her harder as her face screwed up in distress.

You sighed heavily, pressing a kiss to the top of her head and adjusting so that you were sat better up straight.

A knock came from the door, and Alfie let the person know they were okay to enter.

It was Chip, and he was holding one of Arabella’s dummy’s.

“This was downstairs, I dunno if it’s gonna help.”

“Cheers, bro.” Alfie took it from him with a nod.

“We’re all coming bed now though— No pressure, don’t rush her to stop crying, just thought I’d let you know we’re shutting off.”

“Alright, see you in the morning.”

“Night Chip.” You smiled tiredly before whispering to Bella, “Wanna say night night to Uncle Chip?”

Instead of speaking, she raised an arm and waved as much as she could through the concentrated pain in her jaw.

“Night, Arab.”

And then the door was closed again.

Alfie tried to slide the rubber end of the dummy between Arabella’s lip, but she was having none of it, instead deciding to rear her head back with a sobbing whine.

“Bella, please, baby.” You muttered, “It’ll help, okay?”

She clung to you tighter, squeezing your shirt in her fist.

You gave Alfie a nod, signalling for him to try again.

This time, he was successful, and Arabella’s wails were dulled to a light sniffling and the occasional dribble of tears.

“There we go, darlin’.” He smiled, taking her off of you and proceeding to pace the floor to help her doze off.

She’d worn herself out with all her crying, so it didn’t take long for her eyes to shut and her soft snores to fill the room.

Once she’d been put back down in her cot, Alfie clambered back into bed in his boxers, wrapping you up in his arms tightly and dotting kisses along your hairline.

“G’Night.”

“Night.”

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In the morning, Alfie had been the one to bathe Arabella while you stood in front of the large bathroom mirror, doing your makeup and occasionally pulling faces at your daughter through the reflective glass.

She giggled loudly at you before swiping a hand out and covering Alfie’s cheek in soap suds.

“Bella!” He groaned, wiping them off using his shoulder.

“‘Oap!”

“Yeah, I know, girl. But, I’d appreciate it if you didn’t get it all over my face.” He muttered, tilting her head back and pouring water in little splashes over her hair to rinse it free of shampoo.

Once she was done and bored of splashing about, he heaved her out of the bath and wrapped her in her dressing down.

“Cold, daddy.” Her lips trembled as she hugged her hands to her chest.

“I know, let’s go get dressed.”

When you finished your makeup, you returned to the bedroom, finding your daughter in a pair of denim dungarees that had little butterflies stitched on, and a baby yellow t-shirt on underneath.

“Good fit?” Alfie asked while tugging a t-shirt on.

You hummed and nodded, pleased by his choice before rummaging around through your own clothes to find something to wear.

You decided on a pair of tiny shorts and a retro Adidas shirt that was striped with green and cream. The fabric was relatively thick too so it wouldn’t leave you too cold.

“Socks and shoes, baby.” You crouched in front of Arabella, shoving some socks onto her feet.

“No!” She whined, throwing herself backwards and trying to kick them off.

“Bella.” You said, tone firm but trying to be patient, “Stop kicking please.”

“Off! Off!” She screamed, fighting back as you pushed her foot into her shoe.

“What the fuck is going on?” Greg poked his head in whilst shrugging a plaid shirt on.

“She doesn’t wanna put shoes on.” Alfie huffed, sitting on the bed and pulling Arabella into his lap to hold her in place while you wrestled with her feet to cover them up.

She wasn’t just screaming anymore, she was bawling.

You pursed your lips, keeping quiet and ignoring her protests as you did the velcro strap and put her feet down.

“No!” She cried, tears streaming, “Don’t want!”

“You’re not walking around the streets barefoot, Bella.”

Alfie lowered her back down to the floor, and she dramatically threw herself onto it, rolling around and wailing.

Instead of giving her any form of attention, you walked around her and unplugged your phone from its place on charge at your bedside. Alfie sat on the edge of the bed, staring at her with a blank expression along with Greg.

“Daddy, off!” She tried, kicking her feet into his shin.

“Oi!” He snapped, reaching down and taking a hold of her ankles, “Do not kick me. Understand?”

“I want off!”

“You can’t. We’re going out. I’ll say it again, do not kick me. It hurts, it’s not nice.”

It didn’t hurt. She was only two. But he had to find some way to acknowledge her bad behaviour.

“Alfie, don’t shout at her.” You whispered while putting earrings in, “It won’t help.”

“I know, I know.”

She thrashed her legs again, and this time, Greg crouched down to her level.

“AB, look, mate.” He pointed to his shoes, “Look at my shoes. Aren’t they cool? We can both have our shoes on.”

“I don’t like it!”

“Yeah, I don’t like wearing shoes either, but we can do it together, yeah?”

She thought for a moment, and then began shuffling toward Greg, and then curled herself up in his arms.

“Aw, this is nice.” He grinned, “Thank you, AB.”

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In the car, Arabella was still in a mood with Alfie for shouting at her, and demanded that Greg sit in the back with her. She held his hand the whole time, babbling his ear off in short bursts all while he nodded along.

“Let’s go back to parrots, has anyone deeped how they can actually speak English?” Chip asked from the driver’s seat.

Alfie sighed, “They can’t, though.”

“Yes they can.” He mocked the sound of a parrot, making Arabella laugh.

“No, they can’t. They just mimic, like, the pitch— I can’t remember how it works but they can’t actively speak English, they can just mimic noises and how words sound. That’s why they only say words they hear a lot.” You explained, peering your head around the seat to talk to Chip.

“Didn’t realise we had David Attenborough in the car, fuckin’ hell.”

“I remember— ah, have I said this before? I don’t even wanna say it.” Alfie shook his head.

“Nah, just say it now. You can’t start and then not finish at all.”

“We watched the Romeo and Juliet film in English, um, like Leonardo DiCaprio one, and um, like, in lesson, I think there was a bit of boob on show at one point, and the second I got home, I bought that film on YouTube and I paused on that and just went nuts on it.”

“Alfie!” You groaned, your expression one of utter disgust as you shook your head.

“And I told my mates ‘coz I thought they’d find it funny and I’m pretty sure next time we were with a group of girls they went like ‘Oi, y’know AB fuckin’ wanked over Romeo and Juliet’ and they were all like ‘Ewwww’.”

“Good. That’s what you get for being with other girls before me.” You sneered jokingly.

“Fuck, she’s got you there.” Chip murmured.

“That’s actually quite romantic, bro.” Greg spoke up.

“Me wanking to Shakespeare or my mrs being mad I spoke to gal before her?”

“I mean,” He scoffed out laughter, “Both. I rate you for the wank, and I rate her for the possessiveness.”

“10/10 couple.” Chip added on.

“Yeah, 10/10 but they can’t get their daughter to wear shoes.” Greg joked, making Arabella give him a high five. “Wait, you know how girls, like, uh, read erotic books and toss themselves off—“

“A Court of Thorns and Roses.”

“Ball knowledge.” You smirked at Chip’s mention.

“Do you think some lads read books and wank?”

His question caused a wave of laughter and a light debate started before Frampton added in his own thoughts.

“My mrs is obsessed with Draco Malfoy and Hermione fan fiction.”

“Oh God!” Alfie groaned and laughed.

“That’s actually crazy, bro.”

“That’s like … that’s peak teenage girl fan fiction.” You giggled, starting to reminisce yourself “Like, pulling all nighters during summer just to read— Wow, what a time.”

“You used to read that?!” Greg exclaimed.

“Okay, personally I never indulged in a Dramione fanfic—“

“—Dramione—!”

“— But the first fanfic I ever read was a Ron Weasley one and I still remember it to this day.”

“What did you read it on?”

“Wattpad.” You shrugged.

“Aren’t there shit about me on there?” Alfie turned to you.

“I dunno, probably. There’s loads of Sidemen fanfics on there.”

“Really?!”

“Yeah.”

“Probably all for Wroetoshaw, mate.” Chip guffawed.

“Harry.” Arabella cooed from the back.

It went silent for a little until everyone began laughing again.

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Out of the car, there was a long trek down to the restaurant you were going to for brunch, and on the way you discovered that there was a car park further down, which would’ve saved you the entire journey.

Arabella whined at the sloping concrete, tugging on the bottom of Alfie’s shorts.

“What, Bella?”

“Up.”

“Oh, what, now you like me?” He sassed.

“Daddy, up.” She whined, burying her face in his leg.

“What do you say?”

“Please.”

After she used her manners, Alfie caved, lifting her up and settling her in his arms to carry her the rest of the way.

In the restaurant, one of the men that worked there recognised Chip through his collaborations with the Sidemen and then saw you all to a table. They pulled up a special highchair for Arabella so she didn’t have to perch on yours or Alfie’s lap the whole time.

The food you’d ordered was good, and you were relatively surprised when Alfie actually ate most of what he’d ordered, though you’d spent half of your meal trying to encourage Arabella to eat and your own food had gone cold.

“Reader, swap.” Alfie motioned, moving to take your seat so that he had the responsibility of feeding your daughter and not you.

“Are you sure—“

“Sit down and eat, please.”

There was an entire fish on the table that everyone was taking the mick out of, including Chip, who decided it would be funny to mimic a Jamaican accent while toying with it just as the waiter approached again.

“Sorry about my mate using it as a Jamaican puppet.” Alfie said, causing you to bark out laughter.

Towards the end of the meal, Frampton ended up losing the drone to a ridiculously tall tree. You all ventured down to the tree line and Alfie tried numerous different tactics to get the drone down, including shaking the tree, throwing more sticks up at it, and even attempting to scale the entire thing at one point.

“Alfie, get down!” You exclaimed.

“Why?!”

“Because I need you alive?!” You scoffed, “Seriously, come down before you fall down.”

Unfortunately, Frampton didn’t get his drone back, but the restaurant did give you all the meal for free, which was very lovely of them to do. So you returned to the car with full bellies and more cash in your wallets than you’d expected.

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The next adventure for the day was a cable car journey up a section of Madeira, and then to get back down you’d be put in little wooden sleds and pushed down sloping roads with two residents guiding you.

Chip upgraded you all to glass floors, which meant the entire cable car was made of glass and gave you a completely unfiltered view of the city around you.

Arabella kicked up a fuss about it, freaked out about being able to see the drop beneath her, so she sat on your lap and kept her gaze on the window looking outwards rather than down.

“AB, look, it’s fine.” Greg said, stranding on the glass floor and walking back and forth.

Of course it caused the cable car to shake a little, and Arabella screamed in terror, diving back into your neck and sobbing.

“Fuck, I thought it would help.” Greg put a hand to his mouth and sat back down.

“Bro.” Alfie laughed, shaking his head.

“Arab, it’s okay, I don’t like it neither.” Chip muttered, stroking her cheek.

“Want out!”

“I know, I’m sorry. It is my fault. I upgraded without thinking about it.”

“Should I lay my jacket out on the floor?” Alfie asked.

“No, just pass it over here.” You motioned.

He chucked it over, and you spread it out, covering the top of Arabella’s head so her view is restricted to you only. Her cheek rested against your chest, feeling for your heartbeat to soothe herself.

“This is the bread and butter of Madeira.” Chip commented, gazing out of the window once he was a little more comfortable, “Ronaldo would’ve just been living up in a house like this, then he probably went to that football pitch to kick ball.”

“Apparently he used to do keepie-uppies inside his … when he was a kid, on his way up to the mountain.” Greg gestured to the outside.

“Used to play crossbar challenge in that diner as well.” Alfie added with a little smirk, making you chuckle under your breath and shake your head.

“Do you reckon Ronaldo’s been to that diner?” Chip asked seriously.

“I … I think it’s a slim chance.”

Halfway up the mountain, Greg and Chip began farting continuously, being amusing to only them as you and Alfie sat shoulder-to-shoulder, jokingly covering Arabella like she was about to be attacked.

“Why we doing that? Why we all farting?” Alfie scratched his ear.

It was then that a little ‘poot’ came from your lap.

The boys went quiet as you lifted Alfie’s jacket from Arabella’s head, only to find her giggling to herself.

“Whoopsy mummy.” She whispered with her hand over her mouth.

Your head reared back in hysterical laughter while Alfie chuckled and pinched his nosebridge.

Greg was leaning forwards on his knees, tears pricking in his eyes as Chip clutched at his stomach.

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At the top of the mountain, Greg paid for a print out of the photo you’d all taken, and then got a round of drinks that he thought was going to be alcoholic based on the presentation of them.

They’d carved out a pineapple and filled the inside with a drink. Chip and Greg were sharing while you and Alfie did too.

Once you’d all finished your drinks, and taken a load of pictures together (mainly of you and Alfie, sometimes with Arabella) you ended up walking through a little museum that was surrounded by rainforest-like trees.

Arabella insisted on walking by herself, so you put her down and she waddled her way through the museum, stopping to look at only the most intricate of paintings.

The contemporary, modern pieces didn’t interest her in the slightest, but all the large ones with numerous colours had her looking at them in awe.

You stayed close to her while the boys lingered behind, doing a few bits for the video before continuing on outside.

“It’s butt plug man.” Alfie sniggered while pointing his camera at a statue of a man with a tear-drop shaped head.

“Where’s your one, Alf?” You hummed.

“I don’t have one.” He scoffed.

You looked at him sceptically, as if you knew otherwise.

“Where’s yours?” He retorted.

“In your boxers.”

“That was cold.” Chip chuckled, nodding in approval, “That was fucking cold— Y’know what?” He gave you a high five and you shrugged nonchalantly.

“I’m here all day. It’s just what I do.”

“We could be in Thailand. This looks like the places those monkeys, like, steal your shoelaces and shit.” Alfie explained, filming the area for his own vlog, “D’you agree, girl?”

You hummed and nodded, “I know what you mean, it does.”

“Yes.” He hissed, pumping his fist, “Mrs approval, that’s all I want.”

You all walked around outside for a little while longer, and you grabbed a few photos of Arabella staring out at nothing, along with a few of her next to her dad, before venturing into the next part of the museum which was designated to crystals.

You had to remind Arabella that she had to hold Alfie’s hand throughout the entire time, and if she let go then she’d have to be carried for the rest of the day. You didn’t want to risk her touching things and damaging them, so instilling this rule was your safest bet.

The boys weren’t too arsed, except for Chip, whereas you were mesmerised by all the beautiful colours and intricate designs.

“Isn’t it mad that nature can just do this.” You whispered, looking at the camera Frampton was holding, “Bella’s dossing about with her dad ‘coz he doesn’t give a shit but this is so cool to me.”

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Unfortunately, the queue for the sledding down the hill was ridiculously long, so you all made the unanimous decision to come back in the morning before it got popular.

There was a little convenience store around, so you all grabbed some snacks and drinks.

The monsters they had were tiny, just about the size of Alfie’s head and he could hold one between his thumb and first finger.

You would be lying if you said the size comparison didn’t have your tummy doing little flips, but you were also in public, so that was a thought you were going to have to keep to yourself.

Until Alfie looked at you, noticing the look in your eye and laughing, throwing an arm around your shoulders.

“You little fuckin’ freak.”

“Did I miss something?” Chip frowned.

“Nah, nah.”

You giggled, unfurling yourself from his arms and going to get some stuff for yourself.

When you returned with a bottle of Dr. Pepper and a small tub of Texas BBQ Pringles, you found Alfie holding the tiny can to his mouth and uttering about wanting to ‘fuck it’.

You blinked, expression blank.

“Your mrs caught you, bro.” Chip cackled.

“Nah,” Alfie whispered, turning to you, “Nah, you too, girl. C’mere.”

“No. I see how it is.” You shrugged, “You’d rather make love to a can of white monster than the mother of your child. Fine.”

“I made love you last night, is that not enough?”

“I knew it!” Chip gasped, “I fucking knew it.”

“Mummy?” Arabella came waddling over to you holding a KitKat, “TeeTat please?”

“No, you’re already having Magic Stars.”

“Please!” She begged.

“No.” You repeated.

“I love the way you talk to her like she’s 20.” Chip chuckled, “Just straight up ‘no’.”

You shrugged, “If I baby talk her, it makes her think she’s close to getting her way.”

“Daddy.” She pouted, “TeeTat.”

“I know.” He hummed, “KitKat or Magic Stars?”

She huffed at being given an ultimatum, before shuffling off.

“AB.” Greg whispered to her at the counter.

She perked her head up, watching as he gestured for her to hand it over. A triumphant grin took over her face as she passed it to him, observing as he paid and then slid it into his pocket.

“I’ll give it to you later, don’t tell mummy or daddy.” He winked, ruffling her hair.

She giggled, stomping her feet excitable and nodding before running back to you, only to stack it right at your feet.

“For God sake.” You huffed as her lower lip trembled and tears brewed in her water line.

Alfie took your snacks from you so he could pay and give you the room to pick her up.

You were lucky to make it outside before she started properly wailing.

Finding a bench, you sat down with her on your lap and checked over her body, making sure she hadn’t cut herself anywhere or hit her head off the shelf.

“Oh, Bells.” You frowned as she cried, “You’re okay, chick. Big fall, hm?”

She nodded, coughing and leaning into your chest.

“Mummy’s here, you’re alright.”

“Hurted.”

“I know.” You cooed, wrapping your arms around her tighter.

She managed to calm herself down after you placed a soothing hand on her back and rubbed back and forth.

Alfie came out the shop with a white plastic bag, carrying everything for the three of you.

“Bells, we’re going hat shop. Wanna go get a hat?” He cooed, tickling under her chin.

“Daddy.” She sniffled, reaching for him.

“Oh, I know, darlin’.” He sighed, handing you the bag so he could carry your daughter around.

In the hat store, Greg got another hat and Alfie got a red bucket hat. Arabella ended up picking out a purple cap with little yellow flowers dotted all over it.

“That’s pretty, baby.” You grinned as they walked out in their new hats.

She grinned at the compliment, giggling shyly.

The walk back to the car was leisurely, the journey even more so as you pulled into the car park of where you were headed next.

“Ask me about my fit!” Alfie said to Chip.

“Oi, tell me about your fit.”

“Pwwwww … what?!” Alfie blew out air dramatically, causing a lot of chuckles and head shakes.

“I thought you were gonna run through it!”

“Ah, yeah yeah yeah,” Alfie nodded, “Head—“

“If you’re offering.” You smirked.

He pointed to you, “Behave. Head, CR7 bucket hat, priceless—“

“Boring!”

“Reader, shut up, man!”

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The water was fucking freezing. You had no doubts that it probably would’ve been lovely had the weather been above mediocre, however it wasn’t. The sky was grey and cloudy, and the water you were standing in shot goosebumps up your skin.

Arabella stood on the side in a little one piece that had a frilly skirt around the edge. She stared at the water like it might reach out and bite her.

“You coming?” You hummed, reaching out for her.

Alfie sat down entirely, submerging his full body apart from his head in the water, deciding to just soak himself to get over the constant shivers.

“Scared, mummy.” Arabella sniffled.

There was a little red mark on her knees from where they’d made contact with the floor of the convenience store earlier, and the physical evidence of her hurt made your heart weep, but you knew this was just what came with being a toddler. You were sure there were numerous times where you would’ve injured yourself in public and won’t remember it anymore.

“I know, it’s a little scary, huh?” You spoke with a light tone, trying to encourage her to get in, “But look, me and daddy did it. Do you wanna join us?”

“Bells, come join me, darlin’.” Alfie beckoned her closer.

“Bella, Bella, Bella.” Greg chanted for her.

She also had inflatables wrapped around her biceps, making her arms stick out a whole lot more than usual. It made her look kinda silly, but you were okay with her looking slightly ridiculous if it meant she’d be alive.

“Otay, I come.” She finally agreed, stepping one foot into the water before screaming at how cold it was.

You all laughed heartily at her reaction.

“Daddy’s coming to get you.” Alfie stood up to his full height, water dripping from his swimming trunks.

“Daddy, too cold!”

“Nah, you just gotta get used to it, Bells.” He said, picking her up under her armpits and holding her to his chest before sitting back down in the water.

Her cheeks puffed out immediately, and she flapped for a while before finding her dads shoulders and latching onto them.

“Good girl, baby!” You cheered, clapping.

“Fuckin’ell, she’s braver than me!” Chip guffawed, finally finding it within himself to submerge below his stomach.

“Let’s go swim, yeah?” Alfie kicked out into the deeper end, treading water and holding Arabella out by her hands, “Kick, okay? I wanna see big splashes from your feet.”

She grunted while trying to hold her head above water, but kicked as she’d been taught in her swimming lessons, creating a splash that would’ve been considered dramatic and big for anyone her size.

“If I let go, will you swim to mummy?”

Arabella nodded.

Alfie slowly let go of his daughter's fingers, however he kept his arms outstretched in case it all went wrong and he needed to intervene as soon as possible.

“Look at that!” Greg exclaimed as Arabella basically doggy-paddled toward you.

“Yay, Bella!” You beamed at her, lifting her into your arms once she reached you.

She coughed and wiped her face, squeezing her eyes shut before opening them again.

“Too cold, mummy.” She whimpered, lips chattering.

“Okay, we’ll get out.” You kissed her cheek, rising from the shallow end and stepping out, “I’m proud of you, though.”

You found her pink and orange towel poncho amongst the other items you’d brought out and left near the sun loungers, putting it over her head until she was wrapped and warming up again.

“Where’s she gone?” Chip threw his hands up.

“It’ll be too cold for her.” Alfie tutted before flipping off of a surface into the deep end.

Once she’d warmed up again, she wanted to go back in.

“Why doesn’t Uncle Chip hold you, yeah? Because he can’t go in properly?” You proposed the idea.

“Sounds good.” Chip nodded, taking Arabella from you.

He remained on his knees in the shallow bit, holding onto your daughter like his life depended on it, occasionally bringing her up and down out of the water to make little splashes.

You and Alfie had ventured far off into the deep end at this point, swimming around each other with teasing grins. The sensual looks were merely because you’d noticed his eyes giving your body a whole lot of attention, and he could say the same about you.

“You look so fit right now.” Alfie sighed, wrapping his arms around your waist.

“Mmm, careful. We’re in public.” You tutted, your hands clasping at the back of his neck.

“I would literally fuck you right now if it was sanitary and you didn’t care.”

“In front of our daughter and your friends? Very classy, Alf.”

“Okay, maybe if they all fucked off, yeah.”

It caused you to laugh audibly and lean further into his touch, resting your cheek on his shoulder.

“Maybe you’ll get lucky tonight.” You murmured.

“Really? Two nights in a row?”

Teasingly, you shrugged, “I said maybe.”

“Fuck … you’re actually a nightmare.”

You scoffed, reeling back and slapping him playfully.

“Nah, a good nightmare. My favourite nightmare.”

“Okay, ew, cringe.”

“Bro!” He huffed, “Can’t a guy compliment his mrs anymore?”

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After another battle with another car park and struggling to get out, you managed to make it home safely. The boys gave a quick scan of the shitty bathroom that had been contaminated before getting changed to go out.

You sighed, shaking your head as you held Arabella on your chest on the sofa.

“Bro, just leave her here and come with us.” Chip suggested jokingly, “She’ll be fine.”

“Chip, I’m not leaving my two-year-old at home by herself so I can go out drinking. Besides, even if I did, I would be shitting it the entire time I was out. It’s okay. Have fun, me and Bella will have a little girls night at home.”

Alfie came jogging down the stairs in his new outfit, fitting a cap over his head and adjusting the belt that was holding up his black denim jeans.

“I’ll see you in a bit. Call me if you need me, I love you.” He rambled, pressing a kiss to your forehead and lips twice.

He felt guilty about you not being able to come out and drink with them on the strip, and he really did want you to come along with them. However there was a two-year-old that needed managing and Alfie was there for an actual video shoot with Chip, meanwhile you were technically only there because of him and his inability to leave you and your daughter alone for longer than three days at a time.

“Bye, love you too.” You grinned, kissing him once more before they left.

Indeed, you and Arabella had a lovely girls night in.

You put on some random cartoon for her to enjoy while you ordered some food.

You went through the photos you’d taken throughout the day, favouriting the ones you were going to use in your Instagram before looking back and finding your daughter passed out, drooling onto a pillow.

You smiled softly at the sight of her asleep, and reached over, caressing her cheek and dotting kisses along her face.

She truly was your peace on Earth and the reason you woke up in the morning.

Her being unconscious only encouraged you to wrap up downstairs and go up to bed. You switched off the lights, although you knew the boys were likely to return in the early hours of the morning and cause some sort of ruckus, and took yourself and your daughter upstairs for bed.

When Alfie came home that night, he immediately made his way toward your shared bedroom.

He knocked at first, just to give you a warning of another presence, before walking in. He half expected to find you awake and doomscrolling, but what he did find was even better.

You had completely passed out, sprawled across the mattress next to your two-year-old (despite her having her own bed in the room). And to make things better, you were in nothing but one of his shirts.

It was moments like these that really reminded Alfie of why he kept going, of why he did the things that he does.

It was all for you.

He shifted Arabella out of your bed and into her own before stripping down into his boxers and sliding into bed beside you.

With a whine, you ended up snuggling right up to him, latching onto his bare torso.

“Alright, girl?”

Your response was a muffled nothing, something you gave him whilst being in the space between half-asleep and full unconsciousness.

He snorted, letting you curl yourself fully around him before returning the favour, making sure everything was perfect in the little space of his family before letting his eyes shut for the night.

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As promised, in the morning of your last day, you got in the car and went straight to the basket ride down the mountain.

On the way there, you, Alfie and Arabella made sure to call his mum to wish her a happy birthday. She was elated to see her son and the family he’d created, uttering an emotional ‘thank you’ before letting you go to queue up and resume filming for Chip’s channel.

You were a massive fan of Alfie’s outfit today. It was just something about your man in a crew neck jumper that really did it for you.

He had Arabella in his arms again, being cramped into a little basket next to Chip with her in his lap was rather humorous to you as you giggled before being shoved next to Greg.

“Well, this is cozy.” You commented mindlessly.

“Reader, don’t say that. You’ll make me feel like your mistress.” Greg joked as the men on the back of your basket began pushing you down it.

“Mistress?!” You guffawed, cheeks beginning to hurt from how much you’d smiled already this morning.

“I don’t know what it’s called! What’s the male version of mistress?”

“Greg.”

“Ooo, yeah, true.”

Halfway down the road, you managed to pick up quite a bit of speed, which spooked you a little and you couldn’t help but wonder how Arabella was doing ahead of you.

You couldn’t hear her crying, which was a good start.

In fact, she was having a whale of a time. She was clinging tight to her dad while giggling down his ear, enjoying the feeling of the wind in her hair.

At the bottom of the hill, you all got out and reunited.

Arabella was beaming.

Her eyes were half shut and there were tears streaming down her cheeks from the wind hitting them, but she was grinning like the Cheshire Cat nonetheless.

“Fun?” You gasped at her.

“So fun!” She giggled, dancing around your feet.

There were some pictures to collect that had been grabbed on the way down, so once those were paid for and in your possession, you moved on to finding somewhere to grab a drink.

There was a vending machine nearby, to which Chip grabbed an original, and a white Monster, whereas you grabbed a diet coke for yourself and water for Arabella.

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You ended up going for brunch in a little cafe where all the boys ended up ordering far too much for themselves, especially Chip, who was already groaning despite there being half a plate of food left for him to devour.

Arabella was shovelling porridge into her mouth, rather strategically flicking the banana slices to the side and ignoring them.

“Eat them, please.” You said, picking up on her habit.

She whined but slid it onto her spoon with her fingers anyway.

“Thank you.”

“Here.” Alfie coughed, sliding one of his sausages onto your plate.

You gave him a bamboozled look, but the way he was leaning back into his chair and groaning told you that his eyes had been bigger than his belly once more. You rolled your eyes at him but indulged in the food he’d given to you anyway, cutting it up beforehand.

It was then that you noticed Arabella shifting uncomfortably in her seat and tugging at the hem of her skirt.

“Alfie, can you take her to the toilet please?”

He sighed and stood from the table.

“Don’t huff at me.” You retorted.

“Wh— I didn’t!”

“Daddy.” Bella slid off the chair, trotting from foot to foot excessively.

“Alright, I know. Let’s go.” He guided her towards the restroom after taking the bag you’d packed in case of any emergencies or accidents.

“He listens to you so well.” Greg cackled, “Honestly, I’ve never seen a man be more obedient.”

“Good.” You shrugged, “I didn’t carry our child for nine months and tear my vagina for him to sit around and do nothing.”

“Fairs. I hear it.” Chip nodded, reluctantly taking a bite of toast as to not waste so much food.

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The CR7 was not your first choice of afternoon activity, and it wasn’t entertaining to you or Arabella in the slightest, however, you did have a very amusing time taking the piss out of all the statues for looking nothing like Ronaldo in the slightest.

It was funny how an entire building dedicated to one person could get so many things about his facial symmetry and harmony wrong.

The only thing that did seem to catch your daughter's attention, was the massive statue of Ronaldo made from chocolate.

“Look at that Bells, all chocolate.” Alfie hummed.

“Yummy.”

“Yeah, but you can’t eat it.”

“Otay. No hungry.” She turned her back on both Alfie and the statue.

“Okay, you’re not hungry anyway, that’s good.” He chuckled as Greg keeled over, watching the two year old walk away from her dad like he meant nothing to her.

. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁ ⟡ ݁ . ⊹ ₊

Going back to the house and mucking about by the pool might’ve been the highlight of your trip. Just you, your daughter, your boyfriend, and his mates splashing about and cracking jokes left right and centre.

“Alfie!” You screamed as he jumped in right next to you, sending a tidal wave your way.

Greg, for some reason, had brought all the hats he’d acquired down, and was swapping between wearing them all in the pool.

Arabella was sitting on the side, her little legs dangling into the water, feet swaying back and forth as she watched you with a smile.

Chip was reclined back on a sun bed, still wearing his entire outfit (shoes included) and blowing into the air holes of her armbands, filling them up so she could put them on and go for a swim.

“Arab, here!” He exclaimed once they were done.

She toddled over to him, cautious of the wet decking around her and let him slide the rings onto her arm.

And then she was in; swimming around her dad, clambering up his torso and splashing you.

“Under!” She begged.

“No, you can’t. It’s not safe.” Alfie shook his head.

With a huff, she turned her back on her dad in the water, but still let him hold onto her.

“Hold onto my arm, here.” He patted his forearm.

Once she was latched on, he held his arm out and spun around, making her squeal in joy at the water coating her face.

. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁ ⟡ ݁ . ⊹ ₊

The time spent by the pool was brief, because Chip had other plans of going to see a statue designated to Jesus.

The skies had cleared up by the time you reached the monument, and a few jokes about God being the reason why were passed between your group.

You’d wrapped your hand around the meat of Alfie’s bicep, vlogging for him as he held Arabella in his other arm. Her legs were far too tired from all the kicking and swimming, and she was adamant about being carried for the rest of the day.

If anything, this trip had taught you that maybe paying the extra fee on a plane for a pushchair is worth it, and you’ll definitely be doing so next time you go away, because although Alfie had no issues hauling his daughter around all day, it did feel a little unfair to you that he didn’t have full mobility.

Unfortunately, all the boys were still super gassy, and Chip began chuckling loudly after an audible fart.

“You can’t fart on Jesus, bro.” Greg groaned.

“Wait, did you just emote on him?” Alfie chuckled, “Ah, so much of this is gonna be a toss up of who—“ He waved his hands up and down in a motion that had Arabella giggling, “Oh yeah, six sevennn.”

She cackled loudly, repeating the action.

“Your baby’s brainrotted, bro. Two years old and doing 67. Cooked.” Chip tutted, shaking his head.

You spent a few minutes taking photos, laughing as Chip did some rather questionable poses while Greg held his phone.

. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁ ⟡ ݁ . ⊹ ₊

The wind was mental, and you weren’t even properly on the coast.

You were stood on a hilly section as Chip and Frampton went back and forth about which Star Wars scene was filmed here, and whether it was actually here, or on a separate island just off the coast.

“Mummy, cold.” Arabella tugged on the sleeve of your shirt.

“I know, it is chilly, isn’t it?”

One look at Alfie and he was making a trip to the car and back, returning with a little blue GAP hoodie, zipping it up at her front so she was warm enough to still stand there as Chip got some content for his video.

You did end up making your way further to the edge of the hill, so much so that you could taste the salt in the air from the ocean.

Greg had snuck Arabella the KitKat he’d bought her yesterday, and she was currently sitting amongst the grass, breaking it up herself and making her way through it.

“Bella, wanna get a picture with mummy?” You cooed, sitting next to her and pulling out your phone.

She grinned at the camera as you snapped a few photos before putting it away and staying in your position on the grass, enjoying the view from the floor. It was also good to rest your feet for a little while.

. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁ ⟡ ݁ . ⊹ ₊

For dinner, everyone had relied on Alfie finding a good spot, and judging by the looks of things on the menus, he hadn’t done too bad. There were some good pasta options for Arabella and yourself, and the boys were most definitely eyeing up all the meaty options.

Frampton ordered a pizza, Chip a chicken parm, Greg some bolognese (matching with Arabella) and Alfie was sharing a large pizza with you.

The food was very good, and you were very pleased with Alfie’s decision.

Despite having a good meal, once you were all back at the house, your boyfriend was stuffing his face with dry cereal on a sun lounger hole while Greg splashed about in the pool again.

“Despite not doing much stuff, and it’s all been a little bit weird, I’ve had the best time of my life.” He said, leaning on the decking to talk.

“Well, ladies and gentlemen, on that note, we say goodbye to Madeira, and we say goodbye to you.” Chip spoke to the camera.

“Bye!” Arabella yelled obnoxiously while throwing one of her barbie dolls in pool.

“Yeah, she’s far too hyper, I’m not happy.” Alfie shook his head, watching his daughter mess about.

“It’s gonna be awful putting her to bed.” You commented.

“Oh, don’t even!” He groaned, throwing his head back, “Bells, do you wanna just go to bed now?” He tried, despite knowing it wouldn’t even remotely work.

“No!”

chip was too busy trying to breathe through his laughter while calfreezy gasped next to him, “no way, the dogs do you dirty like that! you don’t still live at home, do you?”

“no, no, this was just before i got the grotto. probably the last time before i had enough, not gone back since,” he grinned as the others proceeded to laugh. “final straw. slammed the deposit down on the table after that.”

“man, i can’t imagine the struggle having y’gal over when you’re still living at home,” chip chuckled as freezy took a laughing fit this time. “we been lucky that way, we moved out real young.”

“until you move out, you don’t realise how mad it is but,” alfie shrugged, “what ya gonna do. i think back to times and get goosebumps i’m like was i possessed or something when i was tryna slip it in n’ the MIL strutting about the landin’, tryna get the washing done.” he watched the other two laugh wildly at his diabolical confession. “true story that.”

“bro,” cal chuckled greatly, fanning himself with his card, “red card! red card.”

ok yeah, this was definitely not what you were expecting 10 seconds in.

▶︎‖ ─•──── 10:55

“so what is your situation? do you have a girlfriend? a situationship? single?”

“no, i got a girl,” he confirmed.

“you have a girl?”

he nodded, “yeah,” scrambling for his phone, he sat comfy on the couch of his first proper podcast appearance. he clicked the lockscreen button and all three pairs of eyes glancing to the mesmerising photo of the bikini-clad girl sat at a table opposite AB. you actually hated the photo, slouched in the plastic chair whilst waiting for your food to come after spending almost 2 hours in the pools at the waterpark, hair drenched from the slides and your boyfriend throwing you under water, you looked like a hot mess in your opinion.

all alfie saw across from him was some tanned, busty model sprinkled in water droplets looking like something straight out of a porno mag.

of course, when you kicked off at the sight of it, he said it was ‘lovely!’

“that’s your girl?”

“yeah.”

“do the people know you got a girl?”

“i think so. i mean i don’t hide it. if i bring her up, i bring her up, i don’t try to avoid it or whatnot. i think that makes a bigger deal than what it is. she’s not been in my vids or anything but i’ll talk about her. if she is it’s no longer than a minute or such,” he gave a quick swipe through the other wallpapers on his phone that rotated every hour, showcasing your beauty with cute smiles and gorgeous outfits and the odd one with him in it. he put his phone back in his pocket. “yeah.”

“wow. how long you been together?”

“uhh, coming up three years this year.”

“oh no way!”

“yeah.”

“how’d you guys meet?”

“uh, basically went through school together,” he bounced his leg over the other. “she hated me for majority and then 6th form,” he shrugged, “got wham and she wanted a bit,” he winked at the camera.

“actually?!”

“nah, nah, not entirely. i mean she did fuckin’ hate me in the beginning.”

they laughed at him. “no!”

“yeah, like, i was a nobody to her. she didn’t give a fuck - to be fair, she hated all guys in school like she was never the type that was interested in boys - you know how when you’re first year and you start fancying people and you meet up at parks n shit, have a cheeky kiss behind the swings, talk for a bit on snap — yeah she never did that. nobody had her, even in year 7 like, she fancied no one. when she said man-hater she meant man-hater.”

“is that what you got up to in year 7?” they snickered.

“nah bro, i was – up until 6th form, i was still like, late bloomer bro like no gal wanted me,” he laughed, “i was too busy playin’ minecraft with the boys.”

“so this the only girl you been with?”

alfie closed his eyes and fought back a nervous smile, “broo, y’gonna get me strung up by my gyal, man,” he said in his roadman accent, rubbing his eyes.

you smiled at the sight of him looking like he was walking on eggshells.

“we don’t talk ‘bout that, know what i’m sayin’.”

calfreezy and chippo laughed, seeing the guy perfectly represented how all guys felt when the mention of other females came up prior to their girl.

“nah, she is my first girlfriend, like, proper, in love, relationship,” he awkwardly explained. “just . . drips n drabs before that — fuckin’ hell, you man sweatin’ as well?” you laughed out loud when he dabbed his actually slightly sweaty forehead.

calfreezy kicked his feet as he laughed at the sight of alfie visibly dreading this topic despite laughing nervously.

▶︎‖ ─•──── 10:55

“nah, 10 times out of 10 i go by myself. the gym with my missus is a whole thing. ‘cause she doesn’t want to work arms . . and i don’t want to work legs . . ‘n then she just gives up ‘cause she can’t be bothered which annoys me but then i annoy her when i try to push her . . then guys come in and i can’t chill ‘cause i feel like they’re looking at her and it’s like fuck . . i’m gonna have to establish dominance here by taking a drink from her fruity ass pink water bottle.”

▶︎‖ ─•──── 10:55

“so did she fancy you in school?”

“i mean, she didn’t really like anyone outside her own little circle in school. let me explain this vibe of my gal alright? her friends were a group of cunts,” he didn’t flinch at their dropped mouths, “i can say that ‘cause they’re not friends anymore, but pure, like, horrible girls when she stopped hanging with them. it’s a whole story, but basically the friend group - i mean, it was mostly one girl stirring it, but the rest followed her like the leader. they were unbearable the last few months of school, like, genuinely, i couldn’t stand them. but y/n like . . you kind of never bothered with her anyway ‘cause she was just like . . i’m not saying you didn’t stand a chance with her but you didn’t. just because . . . she just didn’t like any of the lads from school. she just wasn’t interested in relationships. everyone thought she went with someone from a different school ‘cause there no way she was single out of choice like — she — i mean i’m gonna sound biased but she genuinely was the stunner of the group. of the school to be fair. and the nicest, she was most easiest to approach, it was kind of like a pity she was associated with that group. that was her only flaw.”

“that was her red flag!”

“yeah literally! it’s like . . who are you really if you’re hanging with them? something’s up . . . but nah, like she just wasn’t fussed on lads. she was years ahead in maturity and it was probably like taking on a child in her eyes to get in a relationship at that age. you know what it’s like.”

“no totally, we’ve all been that age. we’re still not fully mature. the immaturity don’t leave us. still get called a manchild by my mrs.”

“yeah! the immaturity, lack of seriousness. proper delusional thinking you could get with someone at that age and expect genuine respect, proper loves you, won’t cheat, will last together type thing. i mean who comes to mind when you think of your old schoolmates who were together that are still together?” he rambled.

“valid. valid.”

“you could talk to her, chance your arm, but it’d be a waste of time, you got nowhere. and the lads weren’t exactly tryna make new mates, y’know what i mean? and she was always with her little crew anyway, so you just dodged the lot of them. her friends said they hated guys too but then got with every man goin,” he had his little vent on that dreadful old friend group of yours, “not my gal though,” he winked at the camera.

“so you won her over.”

“basically, but not in a i-wanted-to-be-her-boyfriend way like i genuinely just wanted her to like me as a person ‘cause she had this whole image painted entirely wrong of me and it used to bug the shit out of me. i was like i’m making it my mission to get you to like me ‘cause i swear i’m not some player–fuckboy type. i’ve got two chihuahuas, mate. i come home, i eat my chicken nuggs, i hop on minecraft and i mind my own business. i might look like i’d cheat on you with some fiat 500 batty but i get nervous ordering at greggs. don’t let the fade fool you, i-i can hardly look a gal in the eye. trust, i ain’t got that roadman ting going on.”

“oh did she think you were a prick?!”

“yeah, like, we were pretty calm in school, we got put through this same class for four years, GCSE to a-level, it was really small, like 10 people and none of my friends were in it, none of hers were so we were like - we still weren’t close but like . . if she needed caught up on notes, she was asking me, y’knaa—” he flicked his hand like he was flexing his rizz on the boys.

“she was asking me for notes—” freezy hit chips arm as he laughed.

“s’like yeah girl, write your number in there while you’re at it,” he joked, “nah but then she dragged me into a argument i weren’t even a part of in front of the whole canteen and made a dick of me so.”

▶︎‖ ─•──── 10:55

“i’m actually really romantic?” alfie defended himself against the older boys in the middle of filming a football shoot.

“what’d you do for valentines?”

“i actually got her a A3 card.”

“that said what? ‘best girlfriend ever?’” chris rolled his eyes.

“uh, it was personalised, i’ll have you know.”

“what was the photo?” harry asked.

“uhhhh.”

he had to scroll to find a photo of the card but he did. the cover was a photo you’d taken from the shower, your arm raised high above you to capture just from your shoulders, upwards and alfie also standing in the bathroom next to it, using the toilet but thankfully half-covered by the glass pane of it. “i–it’s basically us in the bathroom. she was taking a shower and i was taking a piss. y—you obviously can’t see anything b—”

“jesus christ.”

“and she put that up for her mum and dad to see?!”

▶︎‖ ─•──── 10:55

“would you say you’re the jealous type? does your girlfriend get jealous?”

“pffftttt,” alfie spat into the mic, looking wide-eyed across at tays and ginge, “jealous? bros i got a pure psycho on my hands, i can’t lie,” he put on that stupid voice again.

“oh seriously?!” ginge sat up, intrigued.

“she not let other women breathe near you either?” tays said.

“she’s an unpredictable psycho. she likes to play a little guessing game w’me when i come home sometimes. have to figure out what mans did wrong. she let me breathe around one woman, i breathed around two, s’like shittt girl, my bad. ” the two boys laughed opposite him, getting him to laugh himself. “nah she my little demon. i like it. i like when she goes a bit crazy, feel like she might murder me. turns me on, lowkey,” again, with the weird voice. “i like a fiery ting, is she gonna kill me, is she not.”

▶︎‖ ─•──── 10:55

“nah i do have fun with my girl on nights out, i know some lads dread being the same place with their gal in the club ‘n that but i’m guaranteed to have more fun in her company than some of my boys like, some of my boys down 4 bottles and their knocked out like some 60-year-old dad in the corner booth. it’s like mate, allow it. my brother – we were on holiday a few months back with my family, and me and my brother said we would go on the strip like go to the club one night, got all hype about it, and then when it came to it he was like ‘nah bro, can’t be bothered.’ i turned to my mrs, said ‘d’you want to go out tonight?’ she said ‘yeah, will we get a bag on the way?’ i said ‘girl is the sky blue?’ — nah i’m jokinnn’ she didn’t say that, she didn’t say that. not that time. but you get what i mean, she meets my level.”

▶︎‖ ─•──── 10:55

“I’M SCARED TO BRING HER AROUND YOU LOT INCASE YOU DON’T LIKE HER!” he confessed stressfully to his youtube squad. “SHE’S REALLY BAD AT FIRST IMPRESSIONS ‘N THEN I’M GONNA HAVE TO SMACK YOU ALL WHEN YOU SAY SHE’S A SOUR-FACED BITCH!”

▶︎‖ ─•──── 10:55

“you know what? i do feel bad, i feel like i’ve really exaggerated her to be this raging, controlling, psycho bitch, you lot are all gonna be like free AB but she’s really not, like, she gives me so much freewill—it’s me who brings out the psycho in her.”

▶︎‖ ─•──── 10:55

“i call it lemon and lime time.”

“ . . . wot.”

“come again?”

“lemon and lime time? because–no, listen, right— on boxes of tampons you get – there’s different colours. green and yellow -maybe orange, or i might be making that up- either way. she sent me out to get her some one time ‘n i was like ‘what flavour d’you want? lemon or lime?’ they must be scented or something, i dunno, and she voice note me back really laughing and said lemon, lime, whatever. found it really funny. whatever. but now it’s like a hack ‘cause you know when you ask your mrs ‘you on your period’ it’s like—”

“–aw bro, it’s like starting world war three.”

“–it’s a tricky situation.”

“–it’s a set up.”

“it is!” alfie sat up straighter, passionate about the topic, “but now i just say ‘is it lemon and lime time’ and she’ll answer without blowing my head off,” he smiled proudly, “life hack or what?”

“it’s pretty clever, actually. is that why they’re different colours then? flavoured or scented?”

“i think so,” he nodded.

▶︎‖ ─•──── 10:55

“—she’s the one who came up with gimpy perm boy. i picked her up from a night out and we were sort’ve arguing beforehand, nothing serious but when i picked her up she was still in a mood, and she got in the car, rambling on to herself ‘n was all ‘yeah talk to me when you get a decent haircut, y’gimp. gimpy gimpy perm boy.’ it was the funniest thing ever, we both laughed when she said it ‘cause it was just so shit and the way she was talking to herself as if i wasn’t sat right next to her. . . and then i nicked it for my own video. SO the people who say they don’t like my gal and don’t think she’s funny - it’s her joke you all constantly comment on my vids, so suck on that,” he held up his two fingers to the camera.

▶︎‖ ─•──── 10:55

“no but i have punched someone before.”

“have you?!”

“i’m not — i’m not a fighter like i don’t want to fight anyone, ever. and my girl always says to me like especially on nights out ‘just because you can, doesn’t mean you should’ - and im not that guy anyway, y/n would be fuming if i got into a fight like that’s the last thing she wants to see and i would never do anything she didn’t want me to. . i genuinely just want a nice night. maybe a kebab, go home, cuddle, that’s me. but like . . yeah. apparently i’ve got a bit of a temper when it comes to her. my mum says it all the time, like, ‘you go blind where that girl’s involved’ and i used to be like what’s she on about? blind where? i’m chill, i’m calm, i’m zen,” he shrugged cluelessly, “but then . . yeah. one night i got it.”

he shuffled comfortably on his seat. “it was late at night and we were all waiting on a taxi. can’t really remember what we were out for but just left the club, waiting to go home, getting hangry for a mcdonald’s and me and my mates were standing in the street. y/n came and met up with us so we could go home together,” he explained. “i remember i was all agitated anyway with just drunk people doing my head in, shouting and smashing things, guys looking at my girl - nothing major, s’just worse when they’re drunk, like, they’re not discreet about it, ‘n i get it: she’s a rocket. then this guy spawns in from nowhere - proper npc behaviour. already being loud, off his face, lingering round us. my mates were laughing at him, but i wasn’t. i clocked him straight away—weird vibe, ‘n he starts coming in on my girl, looks her over once and says the most - i be fuming thinking about it” he almost laughed psychotically, “says the most diabolical, gruesome shit ever like stupid little comment. i literally — i swear down — i-it—it was like one minute i was just standing there watching him . . . and then, i blinked, and i was still just standing there, except, he was on the floor and i genuinely like—” he stares into the void for a second, still baffled.

“NO!”

“HAHA! CLASS!”

“no, no, honestly lads, it’s — i don’t even remember moving – i - it could have been anyone who hit him ‘cause i genuinely didn’t move a muscle from my spot. it didn’t register. i didn’t even get this–this rush or urge to bang him, it just happened. it was y/n who like, was gripping my arm, panicked, going, ‘alfie?! what the fuck?! why’d you do that?!’ and i’m like, just as confused like why she blaming me? i’m looking at my own hand like . . wait what? what she on about? did i . . ? didn’t feel a thing. no rush, no blood boiling, nothing. it was. like my arm just acted out without telling me. i was stood there trying to remember if i actually hit him or if he just like, tripped on a crack in the pavement and karma did its ting.”

the boys were in cackles but you were laughing into yourself more so at alfie’s genuine confusion and despair as he reflected back to that night. “nooo wayyyy, bro.”

“my mates were there, they were like we couldn’t even stop you if we wanted to ‘cause it was like a twitch. like—bam. we couldn’t even clock it. and the guy’s friends came out after and were standing about and they didn’t even try anything, they were like . . yeah bro, he did have that coming but like . . . is he alive though?’ — y/n’s the one making sure the man’s breathing while i’m just hovering like an absolute muppet. and then i’m apologising to her like she’s the one i wronged which i guess i did . . .” he sighed stressfully. “swear, i felt the hangover kicking in and i just did my last shot like 10 minutes prior! stood there just thinking how’s this even happened? i was literally craving maccies two minutes ago, now i’ve apparently assaulted a man and my girlfriend’s out here playing paramedic to someone who just tried to undress her with his eyes!” he exhales like he’s just relived the whole thing. “but then . . yeah it’s chill. it’s all good. had to grovel a bit in the taxi to make sure she was still coming back to mine but,” he shrugged, “it was calm.”

“yeah, like she couldn’t be annoyed at you.”

“yeah, she wasn’t annoyed at me, she was just annoyed the way it puts her in a kind of awkward situation, like cleaning the mess up. but it was fine. i was like ‘fine, just tell me next time and i’ll stand behind you while you swing’,” he chuckled.

“class bro,” they applauded him and you rolled your eyes at the screen.

“but yeah, in–in conclusion, i have - wouldn’t say fought but . . i’ve hit a few people before. but it’s always in defence or something like that.”

“i’m so glad i’ve never had to defend my girl like that, then we’re both getting disrespected.” chip said.

“my ego couldn’t take it.”

“this is why you’ve gotta get wham, so you can defend your bird,” alfie winked at the camera. “had to back my boys up when it kicked off at a maccies though, one time after school. true story.”

▶︎‖ ─•──── 10:55

“i’ve learned in my time that ‘i’m fine’ really translates to ‘figure it out you stupid dickhead.’”

▶︎‖ ─•──── 10:55

“—same as when you’re feelin’ yourself, y’know? maybe get a fresh trim, hit the gym real quick, clean fit — and then your girl walks in, probably in her fucking pyjamas, little tank and shorts on and it’s like . . how you gonna out-do me like that like i was feelin’ pretty leng then and you just show up and bring my rating down to a solid 4. don’t even get me started when they are all glammed up.”

▶︎‖ ─•──── 10:55

“yo girl, can i get your number? take you for a little spin ‘n that,” you recognised this clip as alfie vlogged from his brand new car (at the time) while passing each other on the road to both your houses. it was so weird and a little sad how you both had the same car and now his was gone and replaced with his new defender. you used to joke your audis were boyfriend and girlfriend too, his grey, yours white.

now he was just driving a military tank on the road that god forbid you left a lip liner in.

“i got a man. or actually i dunno where he’s gone. some guy in a tractor tank just pulled up thinking he’s peng,” you shielded your eyes from the sun as you looked up at him through your rolled down window.

he grinned, continuing his roadman persona. “say less. man’s here now, innit. jump in, i’ll take you nando’s, get you lemon and herb, maybe medium if you behave.”

“medium? you think i look like a medium kinda girl?”

“my bad, you’re right. you’re giving extra hot, still, might need to calm you down with a drink after.”

you leaned your head on your hand out the window, “what are you after?”

he adjusted his cap and slyly smirked, “just a man in his defender, tryna wife up a fine ting in an aldi A1.”

“aldi A1? as in . . the same thing you used to drive about like it was a range just last week?” you grinned.

he nodded, “allow it, girl, it’s a lifestyle. i can’t be seen in a basic whip anymore.”

“oh basic is it now?” you couldn’t hold back your smile at the audacity, “careful, mocking your roots. car’s gone to his head already.”

he laughed and shrugged, “yeah, well. we grow. we evolve.”

“into what? self-absorbed arseholes?”

“aight, be off then in your aldi A1, i got some rockets i need to chat up in their corsas,” he pulled his handbreak down.

“right, well, have fun in your debender,” you widened your eyes, hitting the indicator and speeding off around him before he could even finish turning his wheel all the way. you got to see how he laughed into himself over the interaction, as you remembered seeing him laugh through your rear view mirrors.

and that was when the debender joke was born.

▶︎‖ ─•──── 10:55

“some girl from uni commented happy birthday legend with the little hand heart emoji and she screenshotted it, sent it to me, and just said, ‘legend, yeah?’”

“—OOOF.”

“—that’s rough.”

“that was it. i had to just let it simmer for the rest of the day. didn’t talk to me all day and when i pointed it out she’s all nonchalant like no obviously not i just been busy and i’m just like rightttt ok,” he rolled his eyes at the memory, but a smirk tugging on his lips.

▶︎‖ ─•──── 10:55

“i used to be so scared of getting a girl and meeting her parents over dinner type thing ‘cause i’m such a picky eater, like my diet is a joke, but then she told me that she’s not the most adventurous eater either and basically orders chicken everywhere she goes, so’s like a match made in heaven. and she hates red sauce. soulmates.”

“you’re kidding.”

“swear. although she does love bbq which is just as bad, i can’t have that. need her to bleach her mouth before she even thinks about coming near me. moving like that.”

▶︎‖ ─•──── 10:55

“nah, even with my girlfriend, before she was my girlfriend, we didn’t go to our school formal together but we basically did but when i asked, it was so awkward, i was like ‘you going to formal?’ ‘yeah’ ‘you going with anyone?’ ‘no’ ‘oh nice, nice, yeah me neither’ . . . that was it.”

“fuck sake bro.”

▶︎‖ ─•──── 10:55

“nah she makes me laugh though. we were out the other day and this girl smiled at me when i held open the door for her — just a normal smile, like, polite human — and she was like, ‘do?? do you wanna go back and hold it open a bit longer??? orrrr??’ like the dramatics do make me laugh sometimes.”

▶︎‖ ─•──── 10:55

“so i’ve just ran into the shop, going to make a quick stop and see trouble . . . see peng ting . . see sneaky link,” he buckled his seat belt and turned on his car, the passenger seat occupied with his recent purchases. “she’s had a pretty shitty few days, really stressed out with work and uni ‘n shit, and i’ma good boyfriend, so i’ve bought her some—some bits, what we got here? chocolate . . crisps . . her favourite drink . . an ice coffee and flowers, just to hopefully pick her up a bit. it’s not much but it’s the thought that counts guys, alright? she’ll be grateful. my shayla . . my shayla!” he swung out onto the road.

▶︎‖ ─•──── 10:55

“nah, boys, my girl just text me, i haven’t replied to her in an hour, she said what position you got her in?”

▶︎‖ ─•──── 10:55

“chat’s blowing up. when’s your birthday? august. what are you doing for valentines? my bird. what do you get a girl for valentines? honestly, they’re happy with the little things my guy. get the flowers. get the chocolates. book the hotel room,” he clicked and pushed buttons on his controller from his set-up in the spare room. “my girl’s thing has always been jewellery, she loves all things jewellery - it doesn’t even need to be expensive, as long as you know what she likes,” he continued, transfixed on the screen. “even in my warehouse job, i always made sure to save a little extra for those important dates for a bit of jewellery ‘cause that’s when you do splurge a little. i got her a bracelet and she never takes it off. actually, i got her two bracelets she never takes off. one little diamond piece and one you can buy different charms? that’s a shout. then you can just buy charms for different occasions. little memories. like . . i got her big ben for when we went to london for the first time even before youtube . . or a suitcase when we went on our first holiday. she’s got the letters AB for me. she’s got a dog for her dog. what else did i get her? the charm bracelet’s the best shout i reckon. they’ll love that shit.”

▶︎‖ ─•──── 10:55

“yeah nah, she’s mad jealous. a girl in the shop could look at me for too long and i can feel her soul leave her body. but i rate it, it’s like . . kind of a primal thing, innit? sexy. i mean i’d rather that than someone who doesn’t care, like i’d be annoyed if she was like ‘yeah, have him.’”

“you like that little bit of friction.”

“yeah, s’like behave. but if you don’t, that’s fine too.”

▶︎‖ ─•──── 10:55

“we left the pub one night and she wouldn’t speak to me, like proper angry, seething vibes — arms folded, walking ahead. i didn’t know if she was gonna cry or kill me. we were passing the chippy ‘n i was starving, i had to order something, she was even more annoyed ‘cause she had to wait on me - ‘cause it was so late and she couldn’t walk home on her own. i actually felt bad even though she wanted to kill me. we were both waiting ‘n i was like ‘. . . do you want chips or do you want a fight?’ like stuffing my face, it was probably so jarring.”

“it’s so unintentionally funny like i know if we were there’d we’d be making the situation worse ‘cause we’d be laughing!”

“literally! i got the fight for anyone wondering by the way,” he deadpanned.

▶︎‖ ─•──── 10:55

“do you get weird when girls hit on you?”

“i feel like i’m awkward around people in general, but it depends on the girls ‘cause some can genuinely just be nice and others are straight up like — ‘so are you single or not’ and i have to be like ‘nahhh, i’m pretty locked in.’ just flip them the lock screen.”

“the lock screens always a shout. you don’t even need to say anything, just hit the button.”

“yeah, exactly. i had some girl say i had nice eyes and i was like ‘cheers,’ and even at that i feel disgusting. i’m like i hope she weren’t thinking – like was else do i say to that? thanks, i have a girlfriend, then i just sound like a massive knob when they might just be genuinely paying me a compliment for the sake of it? i freak out over stuff like that, s’just like . . don’t compliment me . . please. respectfully.”

▶︎‖ ─•──── 10:55

“your mrs ever laugh really loud at another bloke’s joke and then you’ve to spend the next hour being funnier to re-establish the dominance?”

▶︎‖ ─•──── 10:55

“oh my god, but d’you get when it’s not even your fault?! i was coming out of the petrol station one time, we’d just left the gym and this girl calls out ‘oi sexy!’ i just put my head down, got in the car — girl’s sat there, jaw hanging open as if i was the one who called her sexy! she just goes ‘take me home’ i’m like FUCK SAKES! DIDN’T EVEN DO ANYTHING!”

“but she expects you to go punch her in the throat.”

“literally! she’s like ‘you were suppose to ride me in front of her’ i’m like,” he pulled his most bizarre face.

▶︎‖ ─•──── 10:55

“yeah, bro, when you text them first before you text the boys chat, it’s over.”

“oh it’s so over,” the boys at pitchside agreed.

▶︎‖ ─•──── 10:55

“the way you talk about your girl — people think she’s got you on a leash,” bach said from his host seat. “which is fine, i know from experience,” he quickly held a hand up with comedic laugh.

alfie laughed, “yeah, nah, i do make her sound like a bit of a psycho. she’s not though. she’s just got a low tolerance for nonsense — especially if it involves other girls. which, fair enough. i’d be the same. i don’t exactly help the image either, the way i wind her up. but honestly? i rate it. i like knowing someone’s that bothered about me.”

“you’ve been with her since, what, you said 18?” arthur tv guessed.

“yeah, ‘n people always say like i’ve been locked in too young and i should be out getting with all different girls, enjoying single life with no responsibilities and all that, but like . . i don’t feel like I’m missing out on anything. i am enjoying life and my relationship’s easy like i’m not miserable. if i was miserable, i wouldn’t be in it, you know? it’s jarring sometimes.”

“i like that you’re deeping it.”

“no it’s true through, people act like when you’re with someone young you’re making a sacrifice, like you’ve given something up but it’s the opposite. like, she’s literally my best mate. i know people hate hearing that but your girl should be your mate as well. we’ve got our own vibe, our own jokes, we rinse each other all the time, we’re never serious — i get to live life with one of my favourite people - it’s like when you’re with your boys and you’re like, ‘ah, imagine living together, that would be sick,’ – that’s how i feel with her like i want that, i would enjoy that. i don’t dread the thought of that.”

“so you’re not trying to be out here playing the field?” arthur smiled.

“jesus, no. trust me, no part of me wants that. i’ve got the girl, the banter, the comfort — everything. i don’t need saving, none of that free AB shit. i’m not stuck. i’m—i’m sorted.”

“he said sorted. oo, he’s in love, guys.” bach teased.

“exactly. i’m not whipped - maybe a bit - but i’m happy. big difference.”

▶︎‖ ─•──── 10:55

“ass or tits? boyssss, come on, it’s all in the personality,” he said from his computer chair, leaning back as he let out a sigh at their ridiculous questions. “. . . but have you seen the rack on my girl?”

▶︎‖ ─•──── 10:55

“so last time i vlogged, i just put a wash on and text my mum if she was in so i can go get the dogs and bring them on a walk so at least i’m doing something in this vlog,” he spoke from his bed, not knowing what else he could do to spice up the grotto vlog. “i should probably pay a visit to my mrs, i feel like i’ve abandoned her the last couple days just ‘cause i been so busy. she’s been busy too but still, i should probably call in and see her,” he paused.

“i know, she knows that i’m not fond of askin’,” he sang next on his way to yours.

“hey,” the next clip was when the camera lens pulled out directly from your forhead as your boyfriend stood directly above you, “say something for the viewers at home, girl,” he put the roadman voice on.

you looked at the lens and then smacked your hand over it, doing (what you remembered) the most diabolical filthiest gesture that alfie flipped his camera to show his jaw almost on the floor with a heavy laugh in his chest. “DO THAT AGAIN. RIGHT NOW! GO! SHOW THE CAMERA!—”

▶︎‖ ─•──── 10:55

“yeah like AB. AB and his girl.”

“i’ve actually met his girl and she’s very dead on. she’s not what he makes her out to be on cam,” joe weller told his co-hosts. “quite witty. i remember when we went to LA, we were going out one night and one of the clubs was a stripclub and he was on facetime, telling her what he was up to, and i, for some reason, brought up the stripclub and i was like ‘oh shit!’ like felt so bad - i didn’t want him thinking i was throwing him under the bus or trying to start something! - but she was just laughing ‘n was like ‘oh yeah no worries at all babe! what better things would you be doing! you go watch star and sapphire shake their arse while i do your dirty washing and clean out your wardrobe, it’s no problem! have fun! i’ll be right here when you get back!’ but like genuinely joking, it was so funny. i thought she would’ve freaked ‘cause you know, he makes her out to sound a bit mental but he turned to me and was like ‘nah, like, she mightn’t like it but she trusts me, that’s the big difference. and she knows me, she knows i’m probably gonna be mad awkward the whole time’ and to be fair . . . he was. boy’s head was in his phone or stuck to the bar, he didn’t know what to do. he really loves her, he told me a lot of their lore.”

▶︎‖ ─•──── 10:55

“yeah, mine neither. she’s surprisingly not that bothered by people before her - not that i had proper relationships before - but girls i’ve talked to like - she doesn’t care, but neither one of us want to talk about it anyway. i don’t fucking want to bring them up. she brings them up for a laugh when we have an argument ‘cause she knows i be mortified,” he laughed as the boys began to laugh at his confession, his face reddening. “so embarrassing.”

▶︎‖ ─•──── 10:55

“aw, no yeah — monaco vlog? dog house.”

“HOW?!”

“you tell me.”

▶︎‖ ─•──── 10:55

chip was laughing, nursing a beer in one hand, the mic in the other, “bro, i don’t know how you do it. your girl’s intense, she’s like . . on you, all the time. proper psycho attachments. she puts me on edge.”

alfie stopped mid-laugh, still smiling, but his eyes locking in on the older boy. “alright, relax,” he shot him a look, “she’s not a psycho. she just gives a shit ‘bout what i’m up to and doesn’t know you lot well enough to know if you’ll look after me properly,” he said. “just ‘cause sabina doesn’t give a shit about what you get up to.”

freezy was laughing, cracking up at himself, “sabina sends him off to thailand hoping he doesn’t come back!”

“i rate my little psychopath, you lot don’t know how psycho i can be too,” he smirked to himself, bouncing his feet kicked up on the coffee table.

“she just acts likes she forgets who was here first, y’know . . . ” chip continued, letting out a deep sigh as if exhausted by your games.

“bro, you met me a year ago,” alfie, whether purposefully or accidentally, killed the joke he was trying to run. to your delight.

“nah bro, come on, unc was there when you were born. i know my neph like that.”

alfie just screwed his face at the camera like he didn’t know what the fuck he was on about.

you smirked, mentally pumping your fist.

chip 0 - 1 you

▶︎‖ ─•──── 10:55

“i remember in school - oh my god, this is actually so embarrassing, i actually have never told her this,” he covered his mouth as he cringed at himself, “i remember overhearing her talking to her friends about guys who wear chains and talking about haircuts and how they dress, and back then i was obviously so chopped, snapchat mems haunt me, had shortest fucking back and sides ever, flat top, rocking the silver chain — after hearing that, i grew my hair out, let the length grow—” already the boys were laughing and so was alfie, realising how pathetic he was when he wasn’t even sure if he liked you as a person, yet took your word for gospel.

he remembered taking in your words - not that there was nastiness behind them - it was just a genuine opinion, no talking bad about people (maybe jays trim inspired the conversation starter) but you weren’t being bitchy about it (unlike few of your friends). you simply voiced how guys needed to understand girls liked length on hair, how they didn’t find chains cool and needed to stop with the roadman tracksuits.

“got a clean fade, stopped using shampoo and the texture of my hair went how it is now,” he ran his fingers through it subconsciously, “got rid of the chain - huzz were flocking me after that.”

“NAHHHHHHH—”

it was weird, because he remembered the following year, it was like you were ahead of the trend and guys did start to change their look how you said you wished they would.

for that, he joked about your witchy ways, taking your opinion on manifestation seriously. to you, you simply told him this is why he needed to believe you were never wrong.

▶︎‖ ─•──── 10:55

“you lot overrate me, big time. if i broke up with my girl, she’d be the one playing the field. you think i can pull anyone i want? it’d be me to break up with her, ready to sleep around and get none, meanwhile she’d be doing numbers. she’d be racking up the numbers EASY. she’d have guys lined up left, right and centre. she’s had blue ticks in her DMs. it’d be light work for her.”

▶︎‖ ─•──── 10:55

“do you try to keep your relationship off cam?”

“i don’t want her on cam all the time, i do want to keep things private but it’s her decision like, her tiktok’s public, her other socials aren’t. she doesn’t like to be on cam most of the time. if she happens to be in the car when i’m vlogging, i don’t mind if she wants to be in or out of it, or if she wants to say her piece with just her voice or if she does want to show her full self, it’s up to her. but i do try to keep it on the down low, i like keeping her to myself.”

“i like that, man.”

“like the other day, i was dropping her into town for drinks, she was all done up, hair, makeup, sexy little dress ting on. i was vlogging and was like ‘. . d’you want in it or no?’ ‘n she was like ‘fuck yeah, i’m gorgeous today’ so,” he shrugged, smirking, “viewers got blessed that day.”

“some of the girls want her in a vid.”

“bro, she can do what she wants. i don’t think she’d mind doing a feature every now and then but she likes the privacy too. although she has said to me stop talking shit or she’s coming on the pod to out me.”

▶︎‖ ─•──── 10:55

“nah, me and my girl, we got a nightly routine at this point. nearly every night we do rock, paper, scissors for who has to make a nutella toastie.”

“a nutella toastie?!”

“a nutella toastie. oh my god, greatest invention ever. i mean it’s just toast so like . . nothing special but oh my god. we’ll be lying in bed and one of us will go ‘aw . . d’you know what would be so nice right now? nutella toastie.’ ‘awww, go make us some’ ‘no you go’ ‘no you. you make them better’ ‘no you’ ‘no you’ ‘rock paper scissors’ but then we usually just end up joining each other in the kitchen. it’s like midnight. both just standing in pjs, cooking up a storm.”

“bro that’s actually really cute.”

“i need to try that.”

“you should,” alf agreed, “she put me on them. s’great”

he didn’t mention how sentimental he got on the nights you didn’t stay over and he’d be laying in bed and the thought of a nutella toastie would pop in his mind, and that’s when you usually got a text message in the middle of the night:

missing my lil nutella toastie rn

▶︎‖ ─•──── 10:55

“she’s actually not that bad. like i’ve ran into fans before and she offers to take the photo and is like ‘oh my god alfie, put your arm around her!’ like she’s not fucking lethal like.”

▶︎‖ ─•──── 10:55

“would you ever get any tattoos?”

“no. i mean . . i’ve talked about getting a deer as a red dead redemption reference but i don’t think i’d actually ever do it. i just got this on a drunk night out in mallorca.” he held up his wrist to the camera. “was crashing out, spiralling badly ‘n went and got it.”

his boys laughed at him, “what is it?”

“you can barely see it, it’s quite faded. it’s just a tiny letter and little heart beside it. my girl’s initial.”

“eeeeshhh, nah bro.”

“no way.”

“fuck off”

“i know, i know,” he faked embarrassment and dread as he put his hand to his head. “nah i actually don’t care though, like this was the argument she had with me on facetime at the time, ‘cause i was on facetime to her telling her i was gonna get one, she was like ‘no alfie, don’t be so stupid’ was going on about obviously if we broke up and i met someone else and i was fuminggg, i was like i don’t care! if i marry another bird, they’ll have to deal with it ‘cause i’ll love you more than her! i’ll look at her walking down the isle and kiss it — really crashing out, really ready to prove a point, ‘n yeah, woke up with this bad boy,” he slapped the side of his wrist. “could be worse, could have got like, a fuckin’ . . dolphin on my tits or something, there’s definitely worse tattoos. i know a mate of a mate got his mum’s phone number tatted on him.”

“FUCK OFF.”

“swear down.”

▶︎‖ ─•──── 10:55

“aw mate my girl buys thee tiniest handbags so when we go out my pockets are basically jammed to the brim with all her shit. fucks me off so bad, the look i give her when she asks me for her lip liner shit every 10 minutes - i actually did fuck it into a lake one time ‘cause it was literally every 10 minutes she was asking for it. she was like ‘you’re lucky that was 20p from primark because if it was one of my expensive ones, you’d well be in that ocean with your snorkel and goggles on’ and i-i fully well would have been.”

▶︎‖ ─•──── 10:55

“bro. first time i saw you two together — swear down - i need to say this—” danny sat up properly in his chair as he got giddy. “it actually stuck with me. it was in that club, lights going crazy, flickering like mad — you know that big london one, sidemen always throw their parties in? i think that’s what it was actually, that time.”

“yeah, i know the one.”

“the one everything’s dark except them long flashes hitting every few seconds. you were in the all black fit, just sat back, man spreading the whole couch, on your own, corona in hand, rolex catching the light, you looked cleannn bro. y/n was just in front of you on the smaller stools, but like, half turned away talking to someone beside her. her arm was resting on your leg, she was still close. and the way you were just watching her was like . . bro was scary! was intense! like the vibes, man, the aura. it was sick. like, proper cinematic,” he shared excitedly.

“you didn’t have to do anything — like anyone who saw knew like they’re together. d’you know what i mean? like, i swear, it gave me goosebumps. you were so cool. it stuck with me. i was like i wish people saw me and ten like that. we just look like two dweebs. people see us and think, ‘oh bless them, they’re trying.”

tennese laughed in the background, agreeing with him wholeheartedly.

“nah, i was like ten we have to do something about this. went home and ordered youngLA after that,” danny continued, rubbing his eye.

“DID YOU!” alfie laughed.

“yeah, man. and tennese ordered the dress y/n had on. we’re so lame. you guys are so sick, you’ve no idea.”

▶︎‖ ─•──── 10:55

“we were at the pub and some girl asked to borrow my lighter and i gave it to her —not even a convo— and my girl just raised her brows. like i–if you saw me i was like a deer in headlights, i was like fuck, was that a test and i failed?”

▶︎‖ ─•──── 10:55

“jay-z ‘n beyoncé, 03’ bonnie and clyde. that’s our song. we played that really early on in our — i think we actually went a late night drive playing it before we were even boyfriend and girlfriend.”

▶︎‖ ─•──── 10:55

“what’s the chat saying? . . . are you a lover boy?” he sat back in his gaming chair, clicking the mouse with his headset on. “i’ll be honest boys . . you lot will rinse me for this, but i was out the other night in the club, out in london, and i got a whiff of her perfume on another bird, and i–i literally had to go home. i just left and got the train home to her. three hours. was supposed to stay at chip’s place. just came home. stayed over at her place,” he shrugged. “what about it?”

▶︎‖ ─•──── 10:55

“i love seeing the free AB shit, it makes me laugh. ‘bro, blink twice if you’re in danger’” chip laughed at the comment, “‘she’s probably tracking your location right now’!”

“she’s got him chipped, my man’s not been seen out past 10pm in three years,” cal chuckled.

alfie smirked, ignoring the two laughing next to him as well. “they need to chiillll. i know it’s my fault, i’ve made her out to sound like my own airtag but she’s really not. no one’s got me on a leash. i’m here ‘cause i wanna be.”

“do you ever think like . . maybe you did lock in too early? you haven’t really had that single lad freedom.”

even through video, you could see the point when alfie got his back up a little. “see, that’s what people always say, like i’m missing out and i have no freedom but i don’t feel like that at all. i’ve never once looked at the so-called ‘single life’ and thought, yeah, i want that. nah. you lot go on your little nights out trying to impress girls you don’t even like. i go home to someone who gets me, who rinses me for my dodgy haircut, knows when i’m in a mood without me saying a word, and still fancies the shit out of me when i cringe myself out.”

“damn, you’re getting deep bro.”

“its not deep, it’s just the truth. people act like i’m trapped in a relationship against my own will but it’s not that. she’s my best mate and yeah — she’s intense sometimes. so am i. it works.”

“i can’t imagine you being intense. like doesn’t she get crazy jealous when girls chat to you? ‘n when they look at you too long?”

“yeah, she does. and? that’s not a flaw, to me that’s someone who cares. i’d rather have someone who feels that protective and loving towards me than someone who gives up and lets me do whatever. it’s not a control thing. she loves hard and so do i. we’re solid bro.”

“so you’re saying you don’t need rescuing?”

“bro, i’m not in a burning building. i’m in a warm fucking house, eating toast with the love of my life. i’m good,” he laughed.

▶︎‖ ─•──── 10:55

“do your mates not rinse you for you and your girl?”

“no bro, never. they—they love her, they really rate her. she takes care of the whole group. they’d back her before me. i write shit into the chat and they’re like ‘perfectly valid, i’d behave the same.’ one time i wrote in ‘going shopping with the mrs to get sorted for the lads holiday. anyone need anything?’ and none of them have girlfriends anymore ‘n three of them write back: ‘aw can we come? will y/n choose sort us out?’ four of us just trailing about town, y/n’s sorting us one by one with holiday fits, telling them she’s gonna wax their unibrows, making sure we don’t look a tit.”

“HA! i love that!”

“yeah, they rate her. like they’d tell her if i was doing something wrong or to come get me ‘n stuff. sisterly shit.”

▶︎‖ ─•──── 10:55

“you can tell you both don’t play about with each other.”

▶︎‖ ─•──── 10:55

“aww, fuck guys, i forgot to end the vlog. this is me just editing. hope you enjoyed. peace n guidance. see you in the next one.” he held up the peace sign as he signed off, laying on the bed with his laptop in front of him and your arm wrapped around his neck, your pointy acrylics massaging his scalp and playing with his hair, just how he liked every day to end.

The YoungLA event is loud in that specific influencer way – music thumping just low enough to talk over, drinks everywhere, people dressed like they definitely planned their outfit a week in advance. Alfie’s got his arm loosely around your waist, thumb drawing lazy circles like he does when he’s overstimulated and pretending he’s not.

You’re half-listening to someone talk about protein shakes when you feel him tense slightly beside you.

You don’t even have to look.

You just now. 

And then you hear her. 

“Hi,” she says, leaning in far too close to Alfie, hand brushing his arm like it’s an accident. “You’re AB, right?”

He blinks, a little slow, already uncomfortable. “Uh- yeah?”

You tilt your head, eyes flicking to her hand. 

It stays there. 

You straighten immediately. 

“Hello?” you say, sweet voice sharp around the edges. 

Both of them look at you. 

The girl smiles at you like you’re an inconvenience. “Sorry, I was just-” 

“He’s taken,” you say calmly. No raised voice. No drama. Just a fact. 

You slid your arm properly around Alfie’s waist now, possessive without trying. 

Alfie, bless him, does absolutely nothing to stop you. 

In fact, he leans into you. 

“Yeah”, he adds helpfully, nodding. “This is my girlfriend.”

The girl’s fake smile falters. “Oh. I didn’t know.”

You glance down at Alfie’s hand on your waist, then back at her. “That’s interesting, because he’s been standing with me the entire time”

Alfie lets out a small, badly contained laugh and immediately hides it by pretending to cough into his fist. 

The girl’s jaw tightens. She looks Alfie up and down once more, clearly annoyed that he hasn’t said anything else/ 

“Well,” she says, tone sharp now, “you didn’t have to be rude.”

You smile, polite and deadly. “I wasn’t. I was being clear.”

She rolls her eyes, mutters something under her breath, and storms off toward the bar and a group of girls, shoulders stiff. 

The second she’s gone, Alfie turns to you, eyes wide and impressed. 

“That was sick,” he says, grinning. “You’re crazy.”

You raise an eyebrow. “You looked like you were about to combust.”

“I was,” he admits. “Thanks for saving me. I didn’t know what to say.”

You poke his chest. “You could’ve said no.” 

“Yeah, but you’re better at it,” he says, hands finding your hips again. “I like it when you do that thing.”

“What thing?” 

“Where you go all calm and scary,” he says fondly. “Possessive behaviour.”

You snort, “You’re such an idiot.”

He leans down and presses a kiss to your temple, soft and public and intentional. “Your idiot. And you’re my scary girlfriend.” 

You tuck yourself back into his side, satisfied. 

Across the room, the girl glances back once from her group of friends, sees Alfie still glued to you, kissing you, and she huffs again and turns round. 

trailertrash!ab who treats you like shit but you love him nonetheless.

trailertrash!ab who calls you a ‘bitch’ and a ‘tart’ as a term of endearment.

trailertrash!ab who’s actually a big softie when he wants to be. 

trailertrash!ab who’s the biggest cuddler in bed when you both don’t want to have sex. 

trailertrash!ab who appreciates a good kiss rather than a quick shag.

trailertrash!ab who forgets your birthday but in a way to try and ‘redeem’ himself buys you a half price cake that’s going out of date as a way to show his affection.

trailertrash!ab who asks you to marry him after only a couple of months of dating because you’re the only person who’s stayed with him for that long.

trailertrash!ab who’s a stoner and a slob (in the nicest way possible), and does fuck all to help you around the trailer.

trailertrash!ab who leaves you with a newborn baby and two toddlers for hours on end because in all honesty he doesn’t want to look after them.

trailertrash!ab who constantly breaks up with you but always comes running back because you’re the only one who actually loves him.

trailertrash!ab who loses his shit when his children disrespect you in any way shape or form.

trailertrash!ab who’s the freeuse king. loves when you wear short skirts around the trailer so he can fuck you over any surface.

trailertrash!ab who’s the messiest munch to ever exist. he’s always spitting on your cunt and letting it drool and drip all down you.

trailertrash!ab who’s a chronic grunter during sex, and incredibly loud.

trailertrash!ab who accidentally breaks the bed during sex with you because he was getting too into it.

trailertrash!ab who loves when you wear his oversized, grubby t-shirts around the trailer after having sex with him.

trailertrash!ab who makes you share a shower with him under the guise of ’saving water’, but really does it so you can have sex in the shower together.

trailertrash!ab who never wears a condom (because he says it’s just another expense) and has the biggest breeding kink even though they can’t afford another kid.

“on your knees,” you commanded, clicking a finger, pointing in between your thighs. when he hesitated, you raised your voice a little, your tone sterner, “now, alfie.”

he followed your command almost instantly. sliding down onto his knees in front of you, the metal dog tag on his collar that read ‘alfie’ reflecting in the light.

you held a leash in your hand, your grip tight to the extent that your knuckles were nearly white. you unlocked the clip, before sliding it into the small hoop attached to his collar, before smiling to yourself as you wrapped the handle around your hand, keeping the length of the leash as short as possible.

“that’s better,” you hummed contently, smiling ever so sickly sweet at alfie, “so much better.”

you then leaned into his ear, before speaking again. “now you can’t misbehave,” you spoke more hushed, your hot breath fanning onto the shell of alfie’s ear, causing a hot shiver of excitement to rush down his spine.

alfie couldn’t help but feel himself getting hard. he gulped harshly, before squeezing his thighs together to try and conceal it away.

his breath was now a little ragged, coming out in soft-ish pants, whilst hot blood surged through his body ever so rapidly as his cheeks started to warm to a pinkish colour.

noticing his discomfort, you soon wanted to find out the problem. you dragged your shoe to the inside of alfie’s thighs, pressing lightly on the dent in his pants. he swallowed, cheeks burning with shameful embarrassment.

when you revealed his clothed erection straining in his trousers, you could only tut in disapproval, shaking your head briefly before looking down at him like he was merely dirt on your boot.

“pathetic,” you whispered, the syllables raw and harsh yet so intoxicating to alfie’s ears as you looked down on him with such disgust, “absolutely pathetic.”

fire burnt in alfie’s belly as he caught a glance of that look. a surge of want as his stomach fluttered stupidly, all of his blood still rushing excitedly downwards.

it took him a moment to think of what to respond with. “sorry,” he then muttered bashfully underneath his breath, not even able to make eye contact with you in the moment.

“what was that, alf?” you asked, before tugging on the leash wrapped around your hand snugly. alfie made a little noise of discomfort before you grabbed his chin, forcing him to look up at you with those wide eyes.

“look at me, alfie,” you spoke lowly, your newly manicured nails digging into his jawbone a little, “bad dogs don’t get to not make eye contact or mumble,” you commanded, your eyes dark as his breath caught in his throat.

his throat felt dry as he tried to speak. it was if words had betrayed him, leaving his brain foggy and unable to comprehend and formulate words, god forbid a sentence.

“well?” you spoke more urgently, your voice level a little higher as your hot breath fanned onto his face.

“i said i was sorry,” he repeated again, a little louder than before but still a murmur in some sense, cheeks now flushed as he felt his ears prick hot.

“an ‘i’m sorry’ is going to cut it right now,” you spoke almost condescendingly, your voice tinged with poison. “but you will be when i’m done with you,” you added, a wicked smile forming on your lips as you did so.

alfie felt defenceless. he felt weak as he stayed sheepishly perched between your thighs on his knees. his limbs felt heavy yet they were weak, his brain fuzzy as his heart beat faster with excitement.

you brushed your thumb tenderly across his lips, your eyes looking down at his face adoringly. your wide pupils swallowed his facial features alive as you kept that wicked smirk plastered on your face.

your thumb hovered over his lips, the pad pressing against the plush flesh. you looked down at him with half-lidded eyes, a smug grin now forming on your lips before you spoke.

“suck.” the command was simple, and alfie knew not to disobey.

his lips wrapped around your thumb almost instantly, his cheeks hollowing as he swirled his tongue around the thumb pad, causing a small groan to escape from his chest, muffled by your digit in his mouth.

he continued to suck your thumb, his head now bobbing against it as if he was taking your strap instead. you smiled smugly, before murmuring, “such a disgusting mutt,” as he continued to coat your thumb in his saliva.

by this time, alfie was becoming increasingly hard to the point that it was painful. he squeezed his thighs together, trying to alleviate some of the discomfort once again.

you then removed your thumb from the inside of his mouth, before smearing the saliva around his face messily promptly after before addressing the bigger problem.

“is someone a bit uncomfortable there still?” you asked as alfie shifted uncomfortably, his dick now practically throbbing in his boxers and a wet patch visually forming at his crotch from where he’d leaked through.

alfie whimpered, nodding. “yes,” he croaked. “im sorry but i need you so bad, girl. please,” he pleaded, eyes wide and ever so desperate, it was enough to make you blush.

“you’re such a needy thing,” you muttered disapprovingly as you pondered with your options. “naughty mutts like you shouldn’t beg, you know?” you spoke coolly, your voice ringing through alfie’s ears.

“i know— i know, but fuck, i need this, babe. need you,” he practically whined pathetically, each word strained, as his plush lips formed a pout whilst his eyebrows furrowed.

with an exasperated sigh, you ran a hand over your tired face. you hated that you were able to cave in when alfie did this.

“hump it,” you spoke darkly, thrusting the shoe closer to his straining member in his jeans, causing him to groan at the sudden pressure on his crotch. “it’s all you deserve,” you added with a bitter hiss through your teeth.

alfie was stunned. his cheeks burnt even more than before as his stomach twisted into tight knots of excitement. “are you…—“

“i said hump it.” you spoke again, louder and more clearer, yet it held a dark tone to it, “consider yourself lucky that i’m even letting you get off.”

alfie then nodded. “right. right, okay,” he muttered with a shaky breath. you let go of your grip slightly on the leash still wrapped around your knuckles, allowing him to adjust himself against your shoe.

his large hands came to grip your thigh, grounding him to the leather of the shoe. gulping sheepishly, alfie then rolled his hips timidly against the shoe, letting out a little noise in response to the new-found feeling.

as he soon found a steady rhythm, he started to hit the right spot that made his cock throb in the confines of the tight denim, causing a few short gasps to escape his lips.

as alfie began to rut against you, you let your upper body relax on the sofa with a satisfied, content smile.

you let your back rest against the back of the couch, melting into the pillows as the sounds of alfie’s gasps and shaky, almost nearly breathless moans already echo around the room, making a nice ambiance to the grotto.

“there we go,” you praised as alfie began to rut a little faster, his release building up like a growing wave. “such a needy thing,” you added in another condescending tone, as you petted his head as you would a dog.

you let your other hand that held his leash go limp by his side. whenever he stopped humping your shoe, you’d give him a little tug, warning him that he shouldn’t stop.

to which alfie always whined in response, biting his lip hard to suppress the moans and short gasps escaping his lips like no tomorrow.

after a while he became lost in the pleasure as his whole body was on fire, his heart now pumping blood ecstatically around his veins, which made you smile wickedly at him from above.

his fingernails dug deeper into your clothed thigh as he became closer and closer to this peak, trying to ground himself in whatever way he could.

his whole body started to shake from the overwhelming pleasure he was feeling. sweat now collected on his forehead as his lower stomach felt tight, as if it was begging for a release.

“keep humping my shoe like a bitch in heat, alf,” you coaxed him on with a devilish glint in your eye as he made eye contact with you briefly, his pupils blown wide and his cheeks fully dark crimson at this time.

“show me how desperate you are,” you added, tugging on his leash cruelly without warning, to which you were met with whine from the man in protest.

alfie’s hips jerked forwards, stuttering as he let his moans and groans out freely. at this point, he was breathless, panting and unable to catch his breath fully.

“fuck,” he cursed underneath his breath as he felt himself reach his peak. biting his now already bruised lip, he whined again for nearly the final time as his climax washed over him like a wave.

his body shuddered uncontrollably, hot shivers rushing down his spine almost instantly. his penis throbbed in his boxers, spilling hot cum into them, causing an even bigger wet patch to form on the fabric which ultimately leaked through to his jeans.

“good boy, alfie. that’s it,” you praised through his climax as alfie whimpered in response, his wide eyes fixated to your smug look as you looked down at him.

you soon shifted your leg from where he was perched on it, moving it so he was placed in between your legs again. his breaths were heavy yet soft as he looked up at you with full admiration, dilated and dazed.

you raised your hand to his cheek, feeling the heat of it against your palm as you cradled the side of his face, as you let the leash drop so it was dangling from his collar and down his stomach.