#ab x reader

THE LAST THING you thought you were going to see when you first crossed the threshold into the INSIDE house, was a very attractive man behind a glass wall.

Admiring your surroundings, you noticed how it was only slightly different from the last season, as they previously had no one to greet and instruct them. You adjusted your brown flared leggings over your stomach and untwisted the strap of your white tank top.

“Hello.” You smiled, waving at the man and wheeling your suitcase forward.

He nodded at you and then gestured to the conveyor belt, “Luggage on there please.”

You grunted as you heaved your brown and pink polka dot suitcase onto the platform, watching it disappear.

“Do I get my stuff back?” You asked.

“It’s filtered through to make sure you’ve got no contraband.” The guard-guy explained.

“Filtered through? I’ve got underwear in there!” You scoffed, “I always knew the Sidemen were perverts.” You tutted.

“Through the doors please.”

“Bye, sexy guard-guy.” You muttered, opening the door and walking through the halls.

Nerves and excitement rushed through you simultaneously, making you glide your nails along each other as you moved, creating a soft clacking noise. The fact that it was silent had you thinking you were the first one there.

That was until you saw a distressed grey jumper and light grey joggers on a very tall and well-built man, sitting at the table in the communal area.

“For fuck’s sake.” You muttered, freezing in your spot.

His head turned to you, and you could’ve sworn time slowed down.

You hadn’t seen Alfie in about 10 months when you’d gone round to his to pick up the last of your stuff, and when you had, it was an emotional time where he tried to convince you to stay for a little longer and his pleading had you breaking down in tears in the car on the way home.

“Oh, hi.” Alfie said, standing up.

“Hey, Alfie.” You shuffled towards him. “Are we the first ones here?”

“Yeah, unless someone’s hiding.” He joked, and you let out a barely-there chuckle. “C’mere, girl.”

You sighed, accepting his arms around you.

You would be lying if you said you didn’t relax into his hold. Your own arms came around his waist, your cheek to his chest.

“How you been?” He asked, pulling back.

“Okay,” You nodded, dropping your arms back to your sides, “You?”

“Yeah, good. Moved to London, third podcast host … feelin’ good.”

“Yeah, I saw.” You hummed, “What’s the bedding situation?”

“Uhh, c’mon, I’ll show you.”

You followed him through to the bedroom, where there were 12 individual beds.

“Which one have you got?” You asked.

“One in the corner.”

“Right.” You hummed, taking your box of clothes and settling them on the bed furthest from his.

“Fuckin’ell, I’m not that bad, am I?” He snorted.

“Shut up.” You giggled back.

The pair of you made your way back into the main room, sitting on the extremely uncomfortable bench. He was on the bend, you were perched on the main stretch, zoning out at the wall across from you.

This couldn’t be happening.

You could not possibly be spending the next week in a house with your ex-boyfriend.

“So … You excited to be here?”

“Yeah.” You replied, “Will be interesting.”

“You’ll be good about the money spending. You won’t do too much.”

“Thanks.” You smiled awkwardly, “You won’t.”

He cackled, scratching the inner corner of his eye with his thumb.

“You’re gonna meal upgrade every day.”

“Probably.”

“Alfie.” You sighed, looking up at him and tilting your head with a scolding but amused glint in your eyes, “You can’t. Be sensible. You can hack rice and beans for a week. You don’t eat anything with flavour anyway.”

“Jesus, stop shitting on me, girl.”

Another head popped around the door at that moment, tall and tanned in grey joggers and a white t-shirt.

“Oh, shit!” Alfie laughed, standing up to greet Marlon.

“Nice to meet you, bro.” Marlon hugged him.

You stood up, hugging the newcomer next.

“Hi, I’m Reader.”

“Yeah, I know you. You did the uh- uh- PLT shoot, right?” Marlon said.

“Yeah, weren’t you doing the Nike shoot at the same time? Like across the warehouse.”

“Yeah, yeah. That was a busy day, man.” He chuckled.

Alfie sat himself on one of the stools as you sat on the end of the rock-hard sofa, watching the two men get giddy about seeing each other. You chuckled at their enthusiasm.

“Where’d y’all put your clothes at?” Marlon asked.

“On my bed— Oh, yeah, claim your bed.” Alfie answered, getting up to walk him through to the bedrooms.

You didn’t bother going with them, keeping your spot on the seat and gnawing on the tip of your acrylic nail.

This was hell.

It truly was.

You didn’t think INSIDE would be too hard, but now seeing that you would have to be here with Alfie, you were coming to the conclusion that you’d severely underestimated the psychological warfare that this experience was about to put you through.

Every time you looked at him, you were overwhelmed with warm flashbacks of the two of you. Ones where you were giggling in bed together at night, ones where you were throwing food at each other while trying your luck at baking, ones where he would hold you while laughing because you were crying over something silly.

Perhaps you would just have to ignore him for seven days.

If you even made it that far.

They came back from the bedrooms, sitting on the right of you.

“Reader, do you do just modelling or?” Marlon striked up a conversation.

“I do beauty content on TikTok and Instagram.” You answered, “Also I kinda went a bit viral for just ranting about shit. I had a video where I was in my bathroom just sobbing and shouting about not running out of time and stuff, it’s actually really funny looking back on it.”

“Running out of time?” He laughed.

You noticed Alfie’s eyes cemented on you as you spoke, not even giving Marlon a glance when he was speaking.

“Yeah, I felt like I was constantly being rushed in life and it sent me into a crisis where I realised I wasn’t— like, there was no need to be rushing. Anyway, yeah. That blew up. Clearly the people related.”

“So you’re famous for influencing and crashing out, got it.” He joked.

You laughed at him.

A bright pink tracksuit caught your eye as another contestant walked in.

“Indiyah!” You screamed, running up to her and hugging her tightly.

“Reader!” She grinned, hugging you back. “I did not know you were here!”

“I didn’t know you were gonna be here either!”

“Ah, yeah, Love Island.” Alfie said, greeting the girl with a hug, “I’m Alfie, nice to meet you.”

Gradually, the other contestants joined the house until you were in a full house of 12. You were all congregated on the ‘sofa’, you sat between Chian and Marlon, talking with the girls with your back to the boys.

Out of sight out of mind.

“What’s the minimum that you would like to go home with at the end of the day?” Eddie asked the group.

“How about this! How about this, nobody has ever gone home with over 500. So we can really—“ Marlon said.

“Set a record.” You added.

“Yeah!” Chian gasped.

“So if we all really lock in that we gotta be over 500,000, I think that’s reasonable.”

“It’s not gonna happen, but we should try.” Alfie commented.

“Yeah, not with you here.” You muttered.

“Oi!” He exclaimed, frowning.

“Do you two know each other?” Chloe asked loudly.

You nodded slowly.

Awkwardly.

“Did you used to date or something? You’re acting so awkward.” Alhan asked, analysing your body language.

You glanced over at Alfie, but he just stared back at you, as if expecting you to speak.

“Nah! You definitely did!” Chloe exclaimed, “Really?! Oh my God! Why did ya’s break up?!”

You huffed, getting up and removing yourself from the room.

That was not a conversation that needed to be had in a room full of strangers.

You ended up sat in the dressing room, busying yourself with fixing your makeup and running over the same mantra fifty times in your head.

‘It’s not that deep, it’s just for a week’.

“Reader, you okay, lovely?” Indiyah’s voice chimed sweetly.

You turned around, giving her a tight lipped smile and nodding.

“You sure?” She sat on the stool next to you.

“Yeah, it’s just that that’s not a conversation I wanna talk about, y’know?”

“Totally.” She nodded, “You don’t have to tell anyone your business with Alfie. She shouldn't have asked that in front of everyone, but I don’t think it was done maliciously.”

“Oh, no, me neither, but … still kinda annoying.”

“He did shut it down, by the way. When you left, he just told everyone to move on and not bring it up again.” She informed you.

“Yeah, but I didn’t what it being known because now I feel like it’s gonna cause unnecessary tension within the whole group, like, that’s between me and Alfie and it’s how I wanted it to be kept, but … oh well.” You shrugged.

“Well, even if it does get brought up again, we can just shut it down. Nope, nope, nope. Not a conversation that needs to be had.” Indiyah reassured you with a hug before managing to convince you to come back to the communal area.

Eyes were on you but you didn’t care, placing yourself between Chian and Indiyah this time, keeping yourself another person away from Alfie.

Just as you sat down, the Sidemen came into the room with loud hollers and cheers.

“Welcome to INSIDE!” KSI shouted, making everyone clap.

“Your prize fund starts at one million pounds!”

“But! There can only be one winner … So trust no one.”

Everyone shared guilty or suspicious looks.

“The shop is now open!” Tobi announced.

Immediately, Marlon, Expressions, Chloe and Alfie were rushing to the shop, whereas everyone else followed behind leisurely.

You felt a firm, large hand on your shoulder. When you turned your head, you saw Eddie.

“Hi.” You smiled softly.

“Hey, you alright?”

“Yeah, all good.”

“Just so you know, don’t feel pressured to answer anyone’s questions about your relationship with Alfie. That’s your privacy, no one else needs to know.” Eddie told you gently.

Considering the sheer size of him combined with the intimidating factor, he was actually very sweet.

You nodded, “I know. Thanks.”

In the shop, Alfie was up to the camera in the corner, muttering to it.

“Reader! Share crisps with me!” Indiyah grabbed your arm.

“If you’re buying them, okay.” You nodded, watching her go and speak to the camera, confirming the order.

Alhan began speaking then, “It’s the first day. Fuck the cushions, yeah? Just be smart with your money, put it towards your meal upgrades. Imagine a prosecco later.”

You raised your hand, wanting to speak.

“Oi, let Reader speak.” Alfie cut in through Chloe’s whining about wanting an alcoholic drink.

“If we keep this whole ‘saving money for meal upgrades’ going, then surely they’ll just raise the price of a meal upgrade? It’s, what? £5,000 now? Tomorrow, it could be £10,000 just because of our plan.” You theorised.

“It won’t be 10 grand, blud.” Expressions tutted, shaking his head.

“Cushions already are.” Saffron backed you up, “And we’ve been whining about getting them already.”

“I get what you’re saying. That’s smart. That’s smart.” Marlon nodded at you.

After everyone had order what they wanted, you all went off separately, the girls congregating in the bathroom.

“I don’t trust the boys.” Chian said immediately.

“Trust the boys about spending, or?” Lydia blended her lipliner in with her finger.

“Be careful, though, you don’t wanna create a boys versus girls thing already ‘coz that just gets messy.” You reasoned, “I think the boys will be good in challenges. Alfie will be, just saying, he’ll just force himself to lock in, but he’ll be shit when it comes to food.”

“Really?”

“Yeah, he’s a proper fussy eater, so I’m just saying, he’s a guaranteed meal upgrade for every meal, that’s, what? Minimum £15,000 a day?”

“Can you talk to him about that? Get him to not?” Lydia asked.

“I can try.” You shrugged.

“I think boys … like, they need the energy.” Chian said, “So they’re not going to be stupid in voting the girls out.”

In the living room, the boys were having a very similar conversation.

“I think they’re smarter than us, bro, they’re smarter.” Expressions tapped the side of his temple.

“I don’t know, they’ve got Chloe from Geordie Shore and Saffron Barker. I dunno how much smarter—“ Alhan scratched his beard.

“Nah, Reader’s smart. She’s very smart.” Alfie but in.

“She is?” Ben hummed.

“Yeah, and her and Indiyah are already friends. Those two are a guaranteed duo.”

“Will Reader betray her, you think?” Marlon asked.

Alfie pulled a ‘meh’ face, scratching his beard, “I dunno— Nah, nah, she won’t. She’s far too loyal. I think— I think if it’s one of them to betray each other, it’ll be Indiyah betraying Reader. She’s too soft.”

“Reader’s soft?”

“Have you seen her, bro?” Expressions laughed, “Left the room when someone asked about her relationship with Alfie— What’s that about?”

“I don’t wanna get into it without her being here, but essentially, I was just a massive prick.” Alfie admitted awkwardly.

“Damn, bro.” Marlon tutted.

When lunch rolled around, a lot of the guys were in uproar about the pathetic meal of rice and beans, whereas you just took the styrofoam container and began eating out of it.

“Is it good?” Lydia nudged you, and you nodded.

“It’s just a bit boring, is all.” You hummed before skipping into the main room to sit at the table and eat in peace.

Everyone joined you after a while, Alfie (for some reason) stood directly beside you with his meal upgrade next to your basic one.

“D’you want some?” He asked softly.

You looked down at the sandwich seemingly composed of meat, vegetables and cheese, and shook your head.

“What, you being sensible?” He smirked, picking the meat out to eat.

“Well, yeah, not spending 5 grand on a meal upgrade when I can just hack rice and beans.” You shrugged, your reply blunt and dry, a bit like your rice actually.

He gave you an awkward smile and nodded, taking note of your bored tone.

Since he saw you for the first time in 10 months, Alfie was really hoping that he could reconcile with you in here. Surely the forced proximity would be good for him to make a move and try and fix things, but that wouldn’t be possible if you kept avoiding him or being dry. He knew that he fucked up a year ago, and he knew that you probably hated him, but he was still desperately in love with you, and he was 99% sure that would never change.

He needed to get you back.

He would do anything to have you back.

After getting changed into the blue tracksuits they’d provided you with, you were sent to the challenge arena for the first official challenge of the season.

KSI and Simon were stood either side of a wooden box that had a clear one on top of it, and holes for what you assumed was your head to go into.

“This is Too Close for Comfort.” KSI introduced, “Every round, two Insiders will be paired and asked a juicy question. In order to complete the challenge, they must truthfully answer each question. However, whilst doing so, a few distractions will take place. If the distraction is too much too handle, they can press the red button and step out of the challenge. But, doing so, will cost the team £10,000.”

The first ones to go were Lydia and Expressions, in which they were asked ‘Who do you think has a zero chance at winning?’ and ‘Shag, marry, kill’ with different footballers, all whilst cockroaches roamed their head and the box.

They did it successfully, and everyone else began having their go, Indiyah being the only to opt out once rats were placed in the box with her head.

“Okay, the final round. Reader, AB.” Simon announced, making you huff. “This time, you’re not gonna be facing the tank.”

The pair of you were whisked off and told to put on swim wear, him in black trunks and you in a black one-piece.

When you came back, the tank had been replaced with an ice bath.

“For fuck sake.” You muttered, looking down at the water.

“You have a very cold bath.”

You both took your robes off.

“Reader, you got this.” Indiyah cheered you on.

You held onto the rim of the tub, placing one foot and then the other, screaming at the cold.

“Shit! Shit!” You hissed, lowering yourself slowly out of fear of sending your heart into shock, “It’s so fucking cold, I’m gonna pee!”

“This is a joke.” Alfie sat across from you, teeth chattering as he gripped the edges of the tub, “You good?”

“Fuck, it’s so cold. What’s the questions, just go.” You flapped your hand.

“Uh, yeah, let’s bring in the eels first.”

“What?!” You screamed, immediately standing up, your knees knocking together from the cold.

“If you get out, that is 10,000!” KSI shouted.

You whined.

“Reader, Reader!” Alfie spoke to you, knocking his hand against your thigh, “Sit down, c’mon. It’s fine.”

“No, it’s fucking not!”

“Oi, oi, chill.” He tried to calm you, “Just sit down, don’t get out.”

You huffed and lowered yourself again, squeezing your eyes shut and not even watching as the eels were placed in the tub with you.

You screamed when one brushed your leg.

“Ay, ay, ay.” He patted your hand.

You unclenched your eyes, looking at him as he offered you his hand.

You took it without thinking, squeezing his fingers tightly.

“AB. What is your most embarrassing moment?” Simon asked him.

“Errr—“ He looked across at you, “Can I say nutting too early?” He said it knowing it would cause you to laugh, which it did.

You let out a little chuckle, eyes still clamped closed.

He was happy to have relieved you from stress for a quick second.

“I’ll take that.” Simon nodded, “Name drop of who it was with—“

“Alright, chill out.” Alfie scoffed amusedly.

“Reader?”

You hummed, nodding.

“You’re fairly open on TikTok about sex and the whole ‘big sister’ mode.”

Again, you nodded rapidly in a panic about the eels slithering around you.

“What’s your biggest kink?”

Your head snapped towards them, mouth gaping open.

The rest of the contestants laughed while Alfie rubbed his thumb over your knuckles.

“I can’t say that on Netflix.” You laughed awkwardly, “You’ll all get into trouble for airing it.”

“Yo, what?!” KSI cackled, “What the fuck is it?!”

“AB, say it for her!” Alhan said.

“No, then we’re all getting into trouble.” Alfie exclaimed.

“Size difference!” You shouted, “Can I get out now?!”

“I think she’s lying.” Simon spoke to KSI. “That’s quite tame, no?”

“Please please please can I get out?!” You squeezed Alfie’s hand tighter.

“We’re gonna have to push you for a better—“

You whined loudly, teeth chattering.

“I don’t know what you want me to say without getting you into trouble with the big Netflix guys!” You huffed.

“Is it that bad?”

You gave them a challenging look.

“Okay, okay, we’ll accept size difference, you can get out.”

You wasted no time hurling yourself over the edge of the tub and wrapping yourself in a robe and putting slippers on.

“Fuck the both of you.” You shivered.

In celebration of the challenge being complete, you were all given cushions to make the sofa a hell of a lot more comfortable.

Back in the main house, everyone set the cushions up on the couch and dinner was ready.

Once again, a dish of rice and beans.

Unfortunately, over half of the contestants ordered a meal upgrade.

Eddie ended up taking the steak whereas the rest of them got a burger.

“Do you want some steak?” He asked you.

“No, I’m okay, thanks.” You smiled gratefully regardless.

“Reader, why are you bare good? Like, proper goodie-two-shoes.” Expressions said, sat across from you.

You kinda blanked a little, not expecting such a spontaneous question.

“Ummm—“

“Clearly she’s not! Did you not watch that last challenge?!” Alhan laughed.

You blushed furiously, taking another spoonful of rice into your mouth.

“Yeah, what’s with the no-spending?” Chloe asked.

You shrugged, “I’m just not arsed. It’s rice and beans, better than what some people get. I can take it for seven days if it means I get to go out and have an entire, like, banquet afterwards.”

“Burger.” Alfie muttered, dropping half of one in front of you.

“I don’t want it.” You muttered.

“Oi,” He muttered under his breath, “Eat it.”

“No. I’m not following your money spending scheme.” You tried to joke out of it, picking it up out of your box and handing it back to him.

He sighed, not trying to create a scene in front of everyone and took it back, eyeing you as you leisurely ate your rice and beans.

At the end of the day, when you were all gathered around on the sofa, relaxing into it now that it was comfortable, the money showed on a screen, the number lowering and lowering until it was at £934,250.

You scoffed out laughter, “That’s so much in one day!”

Everyone was sat around trying to figure out what was the main reason, and it was decided on meal upgrades. You gave a disappointed look to Alfie.

“What?”

“You need to stop.” You said honestly.

“Stop what? Upgrading my meals? You know I can’t hack boring shit.”

“You eat plain chicken nuggets every day, you can deal with rice and beans for seven.” You pulled a face.

You were wandering the halls with a makeup wipe, taking off whatever was caked onto your face when you saw Alfie slipping out of Room 19.

You frowned at him and he smiled awkwardly at being caught.

“What are you doing?”

“I bought something and it told me to go to Room 19.” He replied.

“Alfie!” You hissed, “Stop spending money!”

“It was spontaneous! I won’t do it again, promise.”

“Liar.”

It was quiet between the two of you until you asked the right question.

“What did you buy?”

“Uhhh … Promise not to tell anyone?”

You held your pinky out for him.

He laughed at the childish action, knowing that you didn’t play about pinky swearing as he hooked his to yours. He stepped closer, and you were practically chest-to-chest, you gazing up at him.

“There’s an elimination tomorrow, I’m safe from it, and I got to pick another person to be safe with me, while picking three people to be nominated for eliminations.” He whispered.

Your hand slapped over your mouth.

“Did you pick Marlon?

“For safety?”

You nodded.

“Nah, I picked you.”

Your expression softened, hand falling away from your face.

“Alfie …”

He didn’t let there be any time to dwell on it, “Anyone you don’t like? Gotta pick three to eliminate so give me some names, girl.”

“I’m not doing that.” You shook your head, moving to walk away until he grabbed your arm and pulled you back.

“Reader.”

He said your name with such softness that you couldn’t help but stay.

“Can I at least tell you my plan?

You exhaled sharply but nodded.

“Indiyah spent 10K in the challenge, Chloe and the booze … but I dunno who else.”

“Expressions, but you didn’t hear it from me.”

“He pissing you off?” Alfie smirked, reaching out for your hand and rubbing his thumb across your knuckles.

“He’s just loud. It’s not even that he’s got energy ‘coz he’s not bouncing off the walls. He’s just jarring.” You shrugged.

“Look at you, my little angel but you’re chatting shit.” He chuckled.

“Shut up.” You scoffed, hitting him back and consequently having his hand drop from yours. “Also, don’t call me that.”

“What?”

“Your angel.” You murmured, “I’m not yours anymore, Alfie.”

He sighed, scratching the back of his neck, “I know, I know. Just … haven’t spoke to you in ages, it was an accident, sorry.”

You hummed, nodding, “Okay.”

“… How’s your mum?”

“Alfie …”

“Just conversation, girl.”

“It’s not one that needs to happen.” You whispered, ending it before it even started and walking off.

A lot of conversations that haven’t happened.

A lot of conversations that might still happen.

The wedding venue is buzzing with energy as you make your way through the crowd, searching for Alfie. The evening sun casts a golden glow over the garden, illuminating the fairy lights strung between trees. You spot him immediately, he’s unmistakable even from a distance, broad shoulders straining slightly against the fitted navy suit jacket he's wearing. His curly brunette hair catches the light, styled perfectly as usual, and you can see the hint of his small moustache and slight beard even from across the lawn.

"There she is," Chip calls out, spotting you first. He turns to Alfie with a grin. "Your mrs has arrived, mate."

Alfie turns, his green eyes lighting up when they land on you. "Girl, where've you been?" he asks, his voice carrying that familiar roadman esque vibe that makes your stomach flutter. He opens his arms, and you practically run into them, feeling the solid warmth of his chest against yours.

"Got caught up helping Sabina with her dress emergency," you explain, pulling back slightly to look up at him. His defined arms wrap around you securely, making you feel safe and cherished.

"Typical," Alfie chuckles, pressing a kiss to your forehead. "Always sorting everyone else's dramas out, you look gorgeous darlin’."

The ceremony is beautiful, Sabina looks absolutely radiant as she walks down the aisle, and Chips dark eyes shine with emotion as he watches her approach. You squeeze Alfie's hand during the vows, feeling a surge of emotion yourself, tears welling in your eyes. When they're pronounced married, the cheer from the crowd is deafening.

At the reception, you find yourself seated at a table with Alfie, Chris, Bach, Arthur, Cal, Harry, and Stan. The conversation flows easily, punctuated by laughter and the occasional clinking of glasses.

"I still can't believe Chip is married," Chris says, shaking his head. "And I’ve not got a girlfriend yet."

"I’m sure Shannon’ll still have you if you’ll take her mate," Arthur replies, swirling the champagne in his glass. 

"Found himself a proper rocket, didn't he? Makes two of us." Alfie teases, grinning at you, earning a playful shove from you and bellowing laughs from those around you. 

You smile at his stupid words, feeling a warmth spread through your chest. Alfie catches your eye and winks, causing your cheeks to flush slightly.

When the dancing starts, Alfie pulls you onto the floor, his strong arms wrapping around your waist as you sway to the music. "You look like a little fucken tart tonight, girl," he grins drunkenly mucking around in your ear, his breath warm against your skin.

"Yeah I'd look sexier in white at one of these things," you reply, tracing the line of his jaw with your finger. "That suit was made for those shoulders."

He laughs, a deep rumble that you feel more than hear. "Fuck off reader, you’ll get a ring one day, and that day’s not soon. Maybe I should start wearing suits more often then."

As the night progresses, the DJ announces it's time for the bouquet toss. Sabina takes center stage, turning her back to the crowd of eager women.

"All the single ladies, make some noise!" the DJ booms, and the crowd erupts in cheers.

You stay toward the back of the group, leaning against a table with a glass of wine in hand. You're not one for these kinds of traditions, and besides, you're hardly single.

"Come on, girl!" Flo calls, beckoning you forward, she's dating Arthur herself so seeing her in the flock of girls made it slightly more tempting. "Get in there!"

You shake your head with a laugh. "No thanks, I'm good right here."

Alfie comes up behind you, wrapping his arms around your waist. "What you doing all the way back here, then? Shouldn't you be up there fighting for the bouquet?" he teases.

You lean back into his embrace. "I think I'll leave that to the desperate ones, I've no need when I have you." you reply with a smirk. 

He chuckles, pressing a kiss to your temple. "Good. Don't want you getting any ideas about rushing me to the altar."

Sabina counts down, and with a final "three, two, one!" she tosses the bouquet over her shoulder. You watch as it arcs through the air, seeming to move in slow motion. The women in front of you jump and reach, but somehow, the bouquet sails right over their heads, landing directly in your outstretched hand, the one you'd casually raised to take a sip of wine.

For a moment, there's stunned silence. Then, the room erupts.

"No way!" Liv shrieks, pointing at you. "You didn't even try!"

You look down at the flowers in your hand, then up at Alfie, whose jaw has dropped.

"Oh for fucks sake, reader how has this–," he says, his eyes wide. "What did I just say about not getting any ideas?"

Before you can respond, you're surrounded by their friends, all talking at once.

"It's a sign!" Chris declares, slapping Alfie on the back. "You're next, mate!" that earned a few snickers and taunts from everyone telling chris he is just ‘mad it’s not him.’

"Properly next," George adds, grinning. "That bouquet practically came in on her. Good luck for paying with the wedding, this one's expensive. Youngla is gonna have to do a bit more than give commission for an ad."

Alfie groans, burying his face in his hands. "I take it all back. You lot are worse than my mum."

"Admit it, mate," Cal says, nudging Alfie with his elbow. "You're thinking about it now, aren't you?"

"Thinking about how I'm going to kill you lot, more like," Alfie retorts, though there's no real heat in his voice.

You can't help but laugh at his predicament. "Don't worry, baby," you whisper in his ear. "I'm not booking a venue just yet."

He looks at you, relief warring with something else in his green eyes. "Promise?"

"Cross my heart, although I am a little offended, you really don’t wanna marry me?" you reply, mock upset, pouting, holding up the bouquet as evidence.

“Don’t be silly, it’s not about you angel, could never be about you. It’s about the timin’, and now is not the time” Alfie softly chuckles, holding you against his chest.

The teasing continues throughout the night, with various friends stopping by your table to offer their congratulations, and their unsolicited advice about wedding planning, even their baby name ideas which really earn a scoff from Alfie’s face.

"Should start looking at venues now if you want to get married next year," Bach advises seriously, his arms wrapped around a giggling Liv. "Good ones book up fast."

"Or you could just elope," Flo suggests, Arthur nods eagerly amused next to her and chimes in. "Way less hassle."

"Nah you gotta do it proper," George counters. "We’ll get Vikk to perform a DJ set, although you’d have to make it a kid friendly wedding if you actually want guests to come."

Through it all, Alfie maintains a good natured grumbling, though you catch him looking at you with a soft expression when he thinks you're not paying attention.

As the evening winds down, you find yourselves sitting together at a quieter table away from the main crowd.

"You know," Alfie says, taking your hand in his, his thumb tracing circles on your palm. "When I said not to get any ideas..."

You look at him expectantly. "Yeah?"

He leans in closer, his voice dropping to a whisper. "I didn't mean never. Just... not yet, yeah?"

Your heart does a little flip at his words. "I know," you reply softly. "I'm not going anywhere."

"Good," he says, pressing a gentle kiss to your lips. "Because I'm planning on keeping you around for a long time, girl."

As you leave the wedding, hand in hand, the bouquet still clutched in your other hand, you can't help but smile at the irony. You hadn't wanted to participate in the tradition, yet somehow, it had found you anyway. And as Alfie squeezes your hand, you think that maybe, just maybe, the tradition had known something you hadn't, that this man beside you, with his silly little vlogs, was indeed your future.

"So," Alfie says as you reach the car, breaking the comfortable silence. "What are you going to do with that bouquet?"

You look down at the flowers, then back at him with a mischievous glint in your eye. "I was thinking I might press it. You know, as a reminder."

He raises an eyebrow. "A reminder of what?"

You step closer, wrapping your arms around his neck. "That even when I'm not trying, fate still knows we're meant to be."

He laughs, the sound warm and genuine in the night air. "Cheeky," he murmurs, lowering his head to kiss you again. "But you're not wrong."

“I love you, reader” Alfie mutters, staring into your eyes, his expression melting at your face, your eyes looking up at him.

“Are you gonna propose now? Is this it? Why aren’t you on one knee?” You teased, fake squealing and jumping

"Someone tell this girl that standing there isn't helping" he complained deadpanning to the camera before walking towards the sofa and laying down for a moment

"You said I just had to look pretty" he laughed at your response remembering his distain to you helping, only allowing you to make sure he had it in the best place in the flat

~~~~~~

"On the mantlepiece, gold supreme dumbbell from that sidemen vid, cute pic of me and reader" he zoomed into the picture of the two from many years ago when you had just left school "chat tell me I've glowed up, readers still a rocket obviously" he turned the camera back round to him before quickly moving on "fake Bonzi tree reader made me get for decoration, most of the stuff here is reader trying to decorate"

His camera moved to a few more objects dotted around proving his point, he specifically zoomed in to the little cushions placed on the sofa "the most uncomfortable lump of fluff I've ever encountered, but reader says its brings the room together" your laughter could be heard in the background

~~~~~~

"Prize possession" he pointed at the photo of the grotto "photo of the other gaff, very important when living in London to have a photo of the superior gaff" the camera moved down "more fake plants reader bought, little lego set" his hand entered frame to grab something from the lower level of the shelf "receipt from me and readers first date at the cinema, cringe" he spoke the last word loudly so it would reach higher in the flat

"You love it" you responded from the bedroom knowing he was teasing and trying to rage bait "you kept the receipt not me"

"Can't lie don't even remember what we saw, was hella time ago" the camera flipped back to him smirking trying to bait a reaction out of you but only receiving a loud sigh

He quickly moved on continuing to show random things "Japanese one dot, which is actually a two dot I believe, which did throw me off at the time, I've been hiding this from a certain someone" in contrast to earlier his voice was lowered trying to keep a secret especially since he bought more earlier in the vlog, knowing you weren't the biggest fan

~~~~~~

"I've wasted a lot of money on this" alfie confessed showing his football card collection "considering I've got zero interest in it now, reader actually bought me a shit ton as well, gotta love her" he moves over to his staircase "these are real plants actually, I have to water them, you don't have to water them that regularly though"

"You do" you cut him off laughing "I just do it when you forget"

"Stop making me look bad for the vlog" he pulled an offended face "she's a liar chat, start a reader hate train down below" he laughed before deadpanning the camera once again "need some engagement"

~~~~~~

"Got this for Christmas" the camera showed a sun lounger on his balcony "does look shit, but is bare comfortable" the camera cut to show him laying on it "imagine for the two days before that shit" he pointed up at the construction "the sun, my girl, me it was a bit of a movie"

He smiled at the memory, you and him battered by the heat, the English sun was strong when it wanted to be

~~~~~~

"Beds mad comfortable now" he panned the camera onto you laid in bed "leng ting didn't come with the gaff" you visibly cringed at his words as he put on a deeper roadman accent before he moved on panning the camera quickly between you and the red lights in the ceiling, giggling at his inference before you threw a pillow at him making him retreat to the bathroom

"There's no hot water and I don't know how to change it" alfie told the vlog whilst stood a few feet away from you

"My dad said he'll fix it" you looked towards him whilst scrolling on your phone

“Fucking zippers, man.” Alfie groaned quietly in annoyance as he finally stepped into the tent after struggling to open it the first few times. The flashlight shining from his phone and through his front hoodie pocket lit up the dark blue tent, giving him the perfect view of you lying down in your green sleeping bag. His matching one lay out right next to you. 

Alfie’s eyes widened, and he quickly pulled out his phone to turn off the flashlight, not wanting to wake you up. But the tired groan leaving your lips, accompanied by the rustling of your sleeping bag, he knew he was too late; you were already up. Nonetheless, he turned off his flashlight and was welcomed by the darkness of the cold tent. 

“Be careful of the—“ your sleep-filled voice broke the silence of the tent as you tried to warn him of the electric lantern that was at your feet, not wanting him to hurt himself. But you're cut off by the sound of him stubbing his toe against the said lantern, a wince and muttered curse leaving his lips quickly after. 

You giggle tiredly as you rub at your tired eyes before slowly sitting up, blinking the sleep from your eyes as you reach for the lantern, searching blindly for the turn switch. A hum of success leaves your lips when you find it, and then the tent lights up with a warm range hue. You look up at your boyfriend with a tired look as he gives you a bashful smile, as he rubs his shin, his cheeks flushed from the bonfire. 

“Hurry and zip the tent before more cold air gets in.” You shivered as you rubbed your hoodie-covered arms, your sleeping bag and Alfie's hood not doing much to protect you from the cold waft of air. 

He nearly tripped again as he clumsily crouched down and turned around to zip up the tent, looking back at you with a teasing smirk, “Need me to warm you up?” 

“Please,” you gave him a faux innocent smile as you doubled down, unzipping your sleeping bag and scooting a little so he could have some room to slip in with you. You bit your lip to stop yourself from laughing as you watched him quickly lean down to take off his shoes, eager to cuddle with you. A small laugh left your lips as Alfie dropped to his knees and slipped into the sleeping bag with you. 

“Mmm, hey girl,” he whispered flirtatiously as he rolled on top of you, putting most of his body weight on one of his forearms while he used his free hand to reach behind him, pulling the sleeping bag over his broad shoulders. You zipped up the sleeping bag as you spread your legs more, letting him comfortably lie between your legs. 

Alfie let out a small hum of appreciation and dropped his head to rest in the crook of your neck. The feeling of his lips brushing against your neck gave you goosebumps. You whispered tiredly, “Hi.”  

You smiled as you felt his long eyelashes flutter against your neck, letting you know he closed his eyes. You slipped your hand down his back and under his hoodie, your warm hand soothing his cold skin. You brought your other hand up to run your fingers through his dark curls, a pleased sigh leaving his lips at the feeling. 

After a few minutes of silence and just enjoying the warmth coming from each other's bodies. Alfie started to get restless. Being so close to you was too much for him. He tilted his head to the side and brushed his lips against the soft skin of your pulse point before placing a soft kiss. A pleased sight left your lips at the feeling, and Alfie took that as an okay to keep going. 

Alfie continued to kiss up your neck and jaw, small sighs and heavy breaths leaving your lips at the feeling of his soft lips kissing and sucking against your skin. You tilted your head to face him, and God, did he look so pretty, flushed cheeks, his brown curls a mess from you playing with them, his pretty eyes already looking into yours…a look in his eyes you knew all too well. 

You nodded softly, and he was quick to lean down for a kiss, your noses bumping against each other before you felt his lips on yours. You loved how he kissed you; he was never in a rush, even in situations where he had to rush; no, he wanted to savor the feeling and taste of your lips on his. Alfie moved his free hand slowly up your side to cup your jaw softly as your lips moved slowly in tandem. 

Alfie gently bit on your bottom lip, and you were quick to accept his request, parting your lips for him to slip his tongue into your mouth. 

You were starting to lose your breath from the passionate kiss, the air in the tent getting hotter from the shared body heat. You broke the kiss to whisper breathlessly against his lips, “You taste like chocolate ‘n beer” 

You tasted the s'mores the two of you made with your shared group of friends as you all sat around the bonfire, and the beer you all sipped as you laughed and talked for hours. 

An infectious laugh leaves Alfie's swollen lips from the kiss you shared, as he softly dropped his forehead on your chest, his shoulders shook with laughter. It wasn’t even that funny; clearly, he was still tipsy from all the drinks. The vibration of him laughing against you gave you butterflies, and you couldn’t help but join him in laughter. 

Alfie rested his chin on your chest and looked up at you as you brought your hand up to brush his curls out of his face, as he smirked teasingly, “Oh, so I taste delicious, eh?”

”Mhm, so delicious,” you teased back as you brought your hand up to boop his nose softly with your finger, smiling at the cute nose scrunch he does at the soft feeling. His heart filled with warmth at the sound of your laughter, God, you've made him into such a simp, he thought to himself as he looked up at you with love in his eyes. Taking in every detail of your beautiful face, which looked so heavenly under the orange hue. 

The sweet moment filled with your laughter and soft kisses were interrupted by the sound of your friend shouting from his tent, he shared with his girlfriend, tiredness in his tone as he complained. “Hey lovebirds, some of us want to sleep here!” 

Alfie quickly covered your mouth with his hand to muffle your giggles, he himself having to bite his lip to stop himself from laughing. After a few moments, the two of you calmed down, shifting around a little so that you were more comfortable in the sleeping bag. 

Alfie placed a long kiss on your forehead as he held you close to his chest, as the two of you lay on your sides, whispering sleepily against your skin, “Night love.” 

You fluttered your eyes closed as you melted in his arms, placing a soft kiss on his jaw, tangling your legs with his as you murmured, “Night, Alf.” 

┊࿐ ❛❛ continue on to my…. 𝙢𝙖𝙞𝙣 𝙢𝙖𝙨𝙩𝙚𝙧𝙡𝙞𝙨𝙩 and 𝙬𝙞𝙥𝙨 ❜❜

Ი𐑼 here’s my first fic for this account 🥹 I really hope you guys like it , I’m still trying to get used to writing for ukyt so please be kind <3 please give me some feedback , comments and reblogs are very much appreciated , ily mwah 🤏🏻🤏🏻

۶ৎ taglist is open

(yourusername)

Dreams — The Cranberries

(yourusername) i missed you london!

liked by alfiebuttle, chrismd10, quenblackwell, and 509,0931 others!

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alfiebuttle you seem familar

| (yourusername) 🧐

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user29 UGHH SHES SO AESTHETIC

user51 aw i want a cat

user01 SWAANNS

madelineargy missing you lots

| (yourusername) COME BACK TO ENGLAND 😠😠

user71 i want that phone case

user234 girl tryin to be nonchalant as if we didnt see her freak out on live yesterday 😭😭😭

user229 the three times ever that it wasnt raining in england

user81 AW her and ab r so cutesy

use801 I WANNA BE HER SO BADD

user67 u da real swan

| (yourusername) LMFAOOOO

viviennewestwood

viviennewestwood we hear all angels shop vivienne westwood 🦢

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tagged: (yourusername)

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user71 there goes my bank account!

user0129 i know she was crying when they said they wanted to do ts 🌝🌝🌝

(yourusername) 🩷🩷

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user201 AW OMG HER DREAM BRAND

user301 HELLOOOO??

user321 SHUT UP WHEN DID THIS HAPPEN??

user831 first the nana collab now THIS??? vivienne is giving the people what they want

(yourusername)

(yourusername) shop vivienne x angel's collab!

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victoriassecret our favorite angel has finally grown some wings

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user30 omg imagine being in ur early twenties and getting a freaking VIVIENNE COLLAB

user91 she lowk manifested ts

user982 SHUT UP!!!! this was always meant to happen

use72 bless ab we know she was pissing herself abt ts

| user901 LMFAOOO free our boy

user112 omg shes the biggest vivienne FANNN

user201 THE NECKLACESSS

alfiebuttle dream girl

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(yourusername)

Ride — Lana Del Rey

(yourusername) been away, in LA! (haha it ryhmed)

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madelineargy I MISS YOU ALREADY

| (yourusername) forever my fav girl

username192 IM dead ab WHAT were you up to

user76503 i felt the aura from the caption a mile away

user12 I WANT TO BE HER SO BADDD

user901 pls pls pls madeline upload a podcast w this diva

theburntchip neph is not nonchalant

| alfiebuttle oi fuck off

| (yourusername) @/sabinablair get unc off the phone

user701 UGHH SHES MEANT TO BE AN LA GIRLLL

user2802 bruh that big gulp looks good asff

user120 YEAAHHH MADELINE & (Y/N) BACK TG

alfiebuttle

alfiebuttle locked in.

tagged: (yoursername)

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theburntchip you just gonna let her say that? STAND UP NEPH.

| alfiebuttle yeah sorry shes won mate

arthurtv i dont remember that happening

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user102 awoooga

| user81 (y/n) we know thats ur alt

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(yourusername) bro needed clout so bad he tagged me

| alfiebuttle whose bro?

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redbull

Fame is a Gun — Addison Rae

redbull we hear a certain angel is on the slopes...

tagged: (yourusername)

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user801 (Y/N) IS KILLING IT W THESE COLLABS

user215 that diva is EVERYWHERE

user8920 REDBULL x (Y/n)????

user781 omg i wonder if ab went w her

alfiebuttle 🎿🎿

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(yourusername)

Street Spirit (Fade Out) — Radiohead

(yourusername) thank you for the trip @/redbull 🩵🩵🩵

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user902 i know she KILLED IT on the slopes

user12349 you know its a (y/n) post if she fts her suitcase

user93 AW HER ND ALFIE

redbull a pleasure to work with someone who has wings

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user01 ab better have a redbull vlog...

username235 i wanna be in the room where it happens

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arthurtv anywhere but home

| (yourusername) what can i say i like a good time

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username2 i NEED a makeup tut

— Fairies are now in THE SIMS?

video by reader

─⚪─────────────── 0:58/36:23 ◄◄⠀▐▐ ⠀►► ──○─ ⠀ ᴴᴰ ⚙ ♬

The screen erupts into glitter—a playful, excessive burst of edited sparkles that scatter across the frame. Soft pastel mist drifts lazily from one side to the other, turning her bedroom into a blank, dreamy canvas. It looks less like a filming setup and more like if a four year old knew how to edit a video.

Then she shuffles into frame.

She's dressed head to toe in a full fairy getup—delicate wings catching the light, pointed ears peeking through softly curled hair, shimmer highlight dusted across her cheeks like she forgot to wipe away magic. It's theatrical. It's unapologetic. It's very her.

A pink, cartoon bubble pops into existence around her, clearly edited but intentionally so. Inside it, she lifts her arms into a loose ballerina pose, fingers curved and elegant in a way that's only half-serious.

An echoing, theatrical melody swells in the background—grand, playful, dramatic. "Let us be glad, let us be greatful!" plays over the video, echoing like a church chorus.

The video hard-cuts.

No sparkles. No music.

She's suddenly seated in her white leather chair, entered perfectly in frame. The fairy costume still on, but the mood has shifted completely.

She stares straight into the camera.

Serious. Unblinking.

After a beat, she reaches forward and pulls the microphone closer, the soft scrape loud in the silence. She clears her throat like she's about to deliver breaking news.

Then—dramatically, theatrically—she sings, "Good news," being joined with the Wicked soundtrack. "I'm not dead," She sings as a screen shot of her last upload slowly zooms, covering the screen.

Three months ago.

"Hello," she awkwardly smiles, looks off camera at something—or someone— and laughs, the video then cutting.

──⚪────────────── 3:06/36:23 ◄◄⠀▐▐ ⠀►► ──○─ ⠀ ᴴᴰ ⚙ ♬

She leans back slightly in her chair, one of the wings catching awkwardly against the leather as she shifts, the plastic frame giving a faint creak. Her hand comes up absentmindedly to fix it, fingers brushing stray glitter from her shoulder as she keeps talking.

"I just think it's interesting," she says, tilting her head, wand gesturing loosely toward the screen, "that they've given us vampires-" a photo of Aro appears on the screen, "spell casters-" a photo of PS1 Hagrid followed, "and whatever Batuu was supposed to be—"

The screen had returned to her face when a soft thud sounded somewhere in the flat.

Not loud. Not dramatic. Just... there.

She pauses.

It's subtle, but it's noticeable—the kind of pause that wasn't planned.

Her eyes flick briefly towards the open door behind her before she blinks and straitens again.

"—before fairies," a photo of a cartoon man in fairy wings replaced her. She finishes, like nothing happened, eyebrows lifting slightly. "But, I do think it's a read that they released a fairy pack during pride month."

───⚪───────────── 7:45/36:23 ◄◄⠀▐▐ ⠀►► ──○─ ⠀ ᴴᴰ ⚙ ♬

She now sitting with her legs over the arm rest, whipping around the plastic wand, as she talks about the horns accessory.

"Oh my god," she puts a hand over her eyes. "I just got the urge to do the-" she lifts her hands into her own "horns" as a faint video of Eddie Munson doing the same thing appears. The Stranger Things clock ticking in the background.

"Never again."

The door behind her creaks open.

Slow. Careful.

Not all the way—just enough for someone to slip through.

She opens her eyes comically wide as she slowly turns her head to see what was happening.

A figure passes behind her, out of focus, quick, familiar. Dark hoodie, hood up, dead dipped slightingly to his phone, like he knows exactly where the camera is now to avoid it.

The camera is zoomed comically close to her face as she returns to what she was doing.

─────⚪─────────── 14:56/36:23 ◄◄⠀▐▐ ⠀►► ──○─ ⠀ ᴴᴰ ⚙ ♬

The multiple shades of a singular pot is showed off as her voice over talks the audience through it.

"And just know when I saw this pot, UGH!" She moaned. A small little edit of a pink hue, floating hearts, and sexy music played over the said pot.

From somewhere deeper in the flat, muffled by distance a deep voice sounds, the edit cutting immediately.

"...where's the—"

It cuts off before it's clear.

She pauses and deadpans to the camera

"I really want a little plant pot like this."

──────⚪────────── 15:56/36:23 ◄◄⠀▐▐ ⠀►► ──○─ ⠀ ᴴᴰ ⚙ ♬

She's getting more animated now, sitting up straighter, talking faster.

“—because if you’re going to give us fantasy, you have to actually commit to it, you can’t just—”

A cupboard door shuts somewhere in the background.

Soft, but sharp enough to interrupt.

She stops mid-sentence.

Her eyes lift slowly to the camera, expression completely blank.

She shifts slightly in her chair, adjusting one of the wings behind her.

“And anyway—” she continues, brushing it off instantly.

──────⚪────────── 17:32/36:23 ◄◄⠀▐▐ ⠀►► ──○─ ⠀ ᴴᴰ ⚙ ♬

She reaches to the side of her desk without looking, still mid-thought.

“…and obviously I’ve been waiting for this for, like—”

Her hand searches.

Finds nothing.

Her fingers tap lightly against the desk, like she’s expecting the wand to be there.

A second later—

A hand appears briefly at the very edge of the frame. Sleeve pulled down over the wrist, movements quiet and familiar.

It places the wand directly into her hand.

Gone just as quickly.

She takes it instantly, no hesitation.

“—years. Like, actual years,” she continues.

────────⚪────────20:01/36:23 ◄◄⠀▐▐ ⠀►► ──○─ ⠀ ᴴᴰ ⚙ ♬

She’s fully in a tangent now, pacing her words with small hand movements.

“—and I know people are going to say it’s not that deep, and it’s literally just a game, but it actually is that deep because—”

A quiet laugh drifts in from another room.

Soft. Low. Definitely not hers.

She falters slightly.

Her lips press together, like she’s trying not to smile.

“…because representation of bratz pixies matters,” she finishes, voice ever so slightly louder.

─────────────⚪───28:01/36:23 ◄◄⠀▐▐ ⠀►► ──○─ ⠀ ᴴᴰ ⚙ ♬

"So the gnomes are evil little cunts."

From somewhere off-screen, immediate and and not too far away:

“Skill issue.”

She goes completely still.

Slowly lifts her head.

Looks straight into the camera.

A long pause.

“And they can also influence your balance and luck,” She finishes, with a small smile she can’t quite hide.

comments...

user1 who is in your house.

user2 no literally i paused at 3:08 why did you look at the door like that

user3 3:06 SOMETHING MADE A NOISE???

user4 she said “before fairies” like NOTHING happened girl explain the THUD

user5 7:45 HELLO??? WHO JUST WALKED PAST???

user6 NOT THE HOODIE FIGURE SLIPPING THROUGH LIKE A SIM

user7 the way he DODGED the camera??? that was intentional

user8 you opened your eyes SO wide you knew exactly who that was

user9 14:56 THE VOICE???

user10 “…where’s the—” WHERE IS WHAT??? WHERE IS WHO???

user11 and she just said “i really want a little plant pot like this” IM SCREAMING

user12 she did NOT acknowledge it at all i feel like i’m going insane

user13 15:56 the cupboard????

user14 no because someone is FULLY just living their life in the background

user15 this is not a solo video anymore

user16 17:32 I NEED EVERYONE TO LOOK AT THE EDGE OF THE FRAME

user17 A HAND????

user18 WHO HANDED HER THE WAND LIKE THAT???

user19 and she just TOOK IT??? NO REACTION???

user20 that is not first time behaviour i’m sorry

user21 20:01 THE LAUGH

user22 THAT WAS NOT HER LAUGH

user23 she almost smiled stop it

user24 “bratz pixies matters” GIRL STAY FOCUSED WHO IS IN YOUR HOUSE

user25 28:01 “skill issue” EXCUSE ME???

user26 that was CLEAR as day

user27 and she just paused like 😐

user28 THE SMILE AFTER???????

user29 be honest how long has someone been in your flat

user30 this feels like we’re not supposed to notice but we DO

user31 guys am i crazy or does that sound like alfie

user32 YOU’RE NOT CRAZY I THOUGHT THE SAME

user33 i didn’t want to say it but… yeah

user34 the way he knew where the wand was???

user35 THANK YOU that man has been there before

user36 why is she so calm about all of this

user37 because it’s NORMAL TO HER????

user38 this is the softest launch i’ve ever seen

user39 soft launch??? this is like… background character launch

user40 watch her ignore every single one of these comments

user41 she’s gonna upload next week like NOTHING happened

user42 the way none of this was acknowledged once is sending me

user43 like we hallucinated a whole man

user44 i need his vlog now for cross reference

user45 SOMEONE SYNC THE TIMESTAMPS

user46 this entire video is just: fairy review + mystery man

user47 new genre unlocked

— AB gets drunk & gambles £10,000 at the races!

video by AB

─⚪─────────────── 3:43/28:29 ◄◄⠀▐▐ ⠀►► ──○─ ⠀ ᴴᴰ ⚙ ♬

He's dressed formally, suit and tie. He's holding his camera as he looks around for something to hold.

He leans down, rummaging through something off-screen, then comes back up holding a small rectangular purse.

"Oh what, yeah. Profit? Yeah I'll make sure I sell the profit then." He spoke into the purse, basing off screen, pretending it was a phone.

Pauses.

Looks at it.

It’s not his.

Soft colour. Definitely not his.

He turns it over once in his hands, like he’s trying to remember.

“…don’t know why that’s here.”

A beat.

He sets it back down on his desk without thinking too much about it.

“Anyway—”

───⚪───────────── 5:14/28:29 ◄◄⠀▐▐ ⠀►► ──○─ ⠀ ᴴᴰ ⚙ ♬

The camera turns on mid-laugh, slightly too close to his face, the angle awkward like he’s holding it low in one hand.

“—nah, that’s actually a lie,” he’s saying, half-talking to someone off-camera, half to the vlog. The car is loud—multiple conversations happening at once, music low in the background, the hum of the road underneath it all.

He flips the camera around.

It’s chaos.

Everyone’s squeezed in—Cal, Chip, AB, a couple others all talking over each other, someone halfway through a story no one’s fully listening to.

“And this is the situation right now,” he says, panning slowly across the car.

The camera lands on you.

You’re sat right next to him, shoulder pressed lightly against his because there’s literally no space. The coal black of you're coat looking effortlessly chic on you. Your phone is in your hand, but you’re not really looking at it.

You glance up.

Clock the camera.

A small smile tugs at your lips.

“Hi,” you say, casual, like you’ve done this before.

Before he can say anything, Chip leans forward from the other seat.

“Why do you sound nervous?”

“I don’t—” you start, laughing slightly, nudging his arm away. “Shut up.”

The camera swings back to Alfie.

He’s grinning.

“Anyway—”

───⚪───────────── 7:12/28:29 ◄◄⠀▐▐ ⠀►► ──○─ ⠀ ᴴᴰ ⚙ ♬

The camera is still on him, but it’s obvious how close you are—your shoulder pressed into his, your knee angled slightly toward his because there’s nowhere else to go.

“—we’re like ten minutes away, I think,” he says, glancing out the window briefly.

The car jolts slightly over something in the road.

Without really thinking, your hand comes up, resting briefly against his arm to steady yourself.

It lingers for a second too long to be accidental.

Neither of you acknowledge it.

You drop your hand again.

He keeps talking.

“—or maybe longer, I don’t actually know.”

────⚪──────────── 9:22/28:29 ◄◄⠀▐▐ ⠀►► ──○─ ⠀ ᴴᴰ ⚙ ♬

The camera turns on as they’re walking in, slightly shaky, the sound of chatter and announcements filling the background.

“Right, we’ve just got here—”

He pans the camera across the entrance, people moving everywhere, outfits, drinks already in hand.

“—it’s actually well busy, I didn’t think it’d be this—”

The camera swings a little too far.

You’re there.

Standing just off to the side with Becky, sunglasses pushed up into your hair, mid-conversation.

You notice the camera.

Pause for a second.

Then smile—small, easy.

“Hi.”

He swings the camera back to himself.

"This girl and her little 'Hi's." He jokingly rolled his eyes.

“—Yeah, it wasn't this packed last year, but it’s fine.”

───────⚪───────── 12:31/28:29 ◄◄⠀▐▐ ⠀►► ──○─ ⠀ ᴴᴰ ⚙ ♬

The camera is pointed toward the track now, zooming in badly as the horses are being walked around before the race.

“Right, so I’m thinking this one—”

You step slightly closer to him, leaning just enough to see what he’s pointing at.

“That one?” you ask, unimpressed.

He nods, still filming.

“Yeah.”

You glance at it again, then back at him.

“That one’s not winning.”

He scoffs.

“It is.”

“It’s not.”

“It is.”

You tilt your head slightly.

“That’s embarrassing.”

He lets out a short laugh, shaking his head.

“Alright, we’ll see.”

A beat.

Then, quieter—

“If it wins, you owe me a drink.”

You smile faintly.

“If it wins, I’ll be shocked.”

────────⚪──────── 18:15/28:29 ◄◄⠀▐▐ ⠀►► ──○─ ⠀ ᴴᴰ ⚙ ♬

They’re stood outside now, the crowd louder, people pushing slightly to get a better view.

The camera is on the track, but your voice is close.

“You’re standing in the worst place.”

He shifts slightly.

“Am I?”

“Yeah, you can’t see anything from there.”

A pause.

Then he moves, going behind you.

“Better?” He moves his arms in front of you, camera getting the tw of you in.

You glance up at him.

“…slightly.”

You take a puff of the crystal in your hand, then leaning forward into the camera to blow smoke.

In the edit, Alfie cut it there before the viewers could see you kiss his jaw, and see his giddy smile after.

────────⚪──────── 21:00/28:29 ◄◄⠀▐▐ ⠀►► ──○─ ⠀ ᴴᴰ ⚙ ♬

He’s mid-sentence again, looking down at something in his hands.

“Right, so this time—”

He frowns slightly.

“…wait, where’s—”

Before he can finish, your hand appears in frame, holding out what he’s looking for.

His betting slip.

You don’t say anything.

Just hold it there.

He takes it automatically.

“Cheers.”

Still doesn’t look at you.

“—yeah, so this time I’ve actually thought about it—”

You shake your head slightly, just out of frame.

────────⚪──────── 21:06/28:29 ◄◄⠀▐▐ ⠀►► ──○─ ⠀ ᴴᴰ ⚙ ♬

“Alright—this is where it gets dangerous,” Alfie says, half-laughing, already a bit more relaxed.

He pans across the table as everyone starts piling in—Cal already mid-story, Chip grabbing drinks, Becky sliding into a seat.

Then the camera lands on you.

You’re already there, or maybe you’ve just sat down next to him—shrugging your jacket off, pushing your hair back slightly.

You glance up.

“Why do you always film at the worst times?” you say, but there’s no real annoyance behind it.

He doesn’t answer.

Just lingers for half a second too long before moving the camera away.

────────⚪──────── 21:56/28:29 ◄◄⠀▐▐ ⠀►► ──○─ ⠀ ᴴᴰ ⚙ ♬

The camera comes back on once drinks are down.

Everyone’s squeezed around the table, but somehow—you’re sat right next to him again.

“—I don’t even know how much I’ve lost,” Alfie’s saying, looking down at his drink.

“Too much,” you add, casually.

He glances at you.

“…probably.”

Your knee is pressed lightly against his under the table.

It doesn’t move.

────────⚪──────── 23:11/28:29 ◄◄⠀▐▐ ⠀►► ──○─ ⠀ ᴴᴰ ⚙ ♬

Becky now has the camera, she smiling as Cal rambles to her.She looks opposite her, and then flips the camera to see what she's seeing.

Toward you and Alfie.

The pair of you are in a deep conversation, his beer and your vodka red bull left on the table.

A slow, knowing smile spreads across her face as she flips the camera back to her, Cal not noticing the she is uninterested in his drunk speech.

She raises her eyebrows slightly.

“Interesting,” she mutters, half under her breath.

───────────⚪──── 24:07/28:29 ◄◄⠀▐▐ ⠀►► ──○─ ⠀ ᴴᴰ ⚙ ♬

Alfie’s mid-sentence again, gesturing slightly with his glass. Chip zoning out as he record the two of you.

“—and I’m telling you, that horse was rigged—”

You reach over without asking and take his drink.

Take a sip.

He stops talking.

Watches you.

“…you could’ve asked.”

You shrug, completely unbothered.

“You would’ve said no.”

A beat.

“…yeah,” he admits.

You hand it back.

Your fingers brush slightly.

Neither of you acknowledge it.

───────────⚪──── 24:26/28:29 ◄◄⠀▐▐ ⠀►► ──○─ ⠀ ᴴᴰ ⚙ ♬

The camera is back on him.

“—I’m being serious, next year I’ve got it—”

You say something just out of frame.

Again, too quiet to fully hear.

But enough.

He stops.

Looks down.

A proper smile this time—quick, but real.

He shakes his head slightly.

“Shut up.”

Chip immediately clocks it.

“Who are you talking to like that?”

Alfie looks back up instantly.

“No one.

────────────⚪─── 24:35/28:29 ◄◄⠀▐▐ ⠀►► ──○─ ⠀ ᴴᴰ ⚙ ♬

The camera turns on mid-laugh again, but it’s quieter now.

No crowd noise. No music.

Just the low hum of the flat and the slight echo of an empty room.

“Alright,” Alfie says, running a hand through his hair, clearly a bit tipsy now. “We’re back.”

The camera wobbles slightly as he adjusts it, setting it down somewhere stable—kitchen counter, maybe—angled just enough to catch both him and part of the room behind him.

“You can probably tell,” he adds, glancing at the lens, “it didn’t go well.”

From somewhere just off to the side—

“You’re so bad at that.”

Your voice.

Closer than before.

The camera shifts slightly as he nudges it.

And there you are.

Sat on the back of the sofa—shoes kicked off, kicking your legs softly, clearly a bit drunk but comfortable. Way more relaxed than earlier.

“Why are you still here?” he asks, but there’s no weight to it.

You shrug, smiling slightly.

“Someone has to supervise you.”

He scoffs quietly, looking away for a second.

“Yeah, alright.”

──────────────⚪─ 27:48/28:29 ◄◄⠀▐▐ ⠀►► ──○─ ⠀ ᴴᴰ ⚙ ♬

He reaches forward eventually, like he’s about to end the recording.

Stops.

You’re still close.

Still there.

“Say bye,” he says, glancing back at you on the stairs.

You look at the camera, then back at him.

“…bye.”

A small smile.

He shakes his head slightly, like he doesn’t quite know what to do with that.

Then looks back at the camera.

“Alright—”

The video cuts.

comments...

user1 HELLO??? WHO IS THAT

user2 nah because the way she was sat next to him the WHOLE time???

user3 “you keep doing that” “because you let me” ??? EXPLAIN???

user4 oh they are NOT beating the allegations 😭

user5 the drink thing??? she just took it like it was HERS

user6 i need everyone to go to 2:14 immediately

user7 2:14 is INSANE why did he just STOP TALKING

user8 he was looking at her like she just solved world hunger

user9 this is not a soft launch this is a HARD LAUNCH WITH DENIAL

user10 the way he asked “you alright?” so softly????

user11 no because that wasn’t for the vlog that was for HER

user12 “i like listening to you” IM SORRY???

user13 WHO SAYS THAT ON CAMERA UNPROVOKED

user14 and he didn’t even make a joke after??? he just MOVED ON???

user15 they forgot we were there btw

user16 be honest how long has this been going on

user17 becky KNOWS i’m telling you she KNOWS

user18 the pub clip + this clip = evidence

user19 this man is not subtle when he likes someone i’m crying

user20 the hand on his arm at like 4:30??? HELLO???

user21 and he didn’t move??? AT ALL???

user22 if that was me i would’ve combusted on the spot

user23 “say bye” WAS SO DOMESTIC???

user24 WHY DID THAT FEEL LIKE A COUPLE CHANNEL FOR A SECOND

user25 i thought i clicked the wrong video

user26 not him losing all his money but still smiling when she talks 😭

user27 he was MISERABLE about the bets but happy next to her be serious

user28 the way she’s so comfortable in his flat as well??? like???

user29 that is NOT first time in the apartment behaviour

user30 exactly she knew where everything was I CLOCKED THAT

user31 guys i’m not delusional right this is SOMETHING

user32 you are not delusional this is literally happening in 4k

user33 watch them say “we’re just friends” after this

user34 “we’re just friends” but she’s drinking out of his glass and sat on him basically

user35 the quiet “shut up” when she said something????

user36 THAT WAS FLIRTY IDK HOW TO EXPLAIN IT BUT IT WAS

user37 this whole video felt like we weren’t supposed to see it

user38 no literally like we walked in on something

user39 i need the next vlog immediately

user40 or her pov because i KNOW she has one

— READER'S Instagram

— yourinstagram

backseat driver x

view all comments...

alfiebuttle nah, what's that green shit

user1 HELLO???

— ALFIE'S Instagram

— alfiebuttle

I like all races equally

view all comments...

yourinstagram that green shit looks good 🤤

ty for reading, not proof read-lmk if any mistakes, comment of you wanna be added to the tag list, feel free to drop requests in my asks xx

“we’re not really . . . i mean — he’s just over here the same time as us, they’re in the same complex as us and everything. but yeah, he basically offered to walk me home.”

your mum hummed on the other end of the phone, scanning the outside from the kitchen sink. “well . . that was awfully nice of him. i really appreciate him doing that for you.”

“i know. it was very nice.”

“and were you ok on your own? you weren’t scared staying by yourself?”

“yeah, it was fine. we got some food together and i just watched some tv when i got back . . yeah, it was fine.”

balancing your phone on your shoulder, you couldn’t stop the grin on your face as you spoke to your mum, updating her on how your trip was going and filling her in on plans when heading home. you’d been telling her about last nights antics when she questioned why you hadn’t stayed with the girls, and told her how there’d been a bit of a fallout, but nothing major. it was basically a bunch of drunk nonsense and that you’d be friends when they all woke up.

“alfie didn’t keep you company?” you could hear the teasing in her voice.

“you allowing a boy in my apartment?”

“not what i said.”

“that’s what i’m hearing,” you sang.

“you dare.”

you chuckled, eyes drifting down to the pool. it was almost nine and the place was still quiet — perfectly expected for a holiday morning, everyone still pinned to their beds from the weight of last night - their hangover would undoubtedly wake them before they could themselves. it was the first morning you’d woken up feeling fresh, clear-headed, awake. no pounding behind your eyes, no dry mouth, no fog to shake off or anxiety to battle against. just a soft, unfamiliar lightness in your chest.

too light.

giddy almost, whether it was from the appropriate amount of sleep you got last night or lack of drink and other substances in your body—

or maybe it was something entirely different.

who knew.

you eyed the empty pizza box on your table, the grin tugging your lips as your mum continued to ramble down the phone, organising your own airport pick-up conditions.

“do you want pizza?”

you looked up from your feet, to your left where you saw the small pizzeria with a bright neon sign outside it. your stocks grumbled at the very thought, and alfie was already side-stepping towards it, his eyes still on you awaiting confirmation.

“hm, yeah. i’m happy with pizza.”

he nodded and lead the way, well, a step ahead, not wanting you to fall short of two steps out of his sight. “i actually don’t even like pizza.”

you froze, mid-step up the curb. “what?”

“i don’t like pizza,” he half-laughed, half-coward with embarrassment in his steps.

“how do you not like pizza? who doesn’t t like pizza?” your thoughts spoke out loud. “it’s—it’s pizza?”

he shrugged his shoulders, hands in his pockets. “saucy, innit.”

“saucy?”

“don’t like red sauce.”

you stared at him with that face you knew was using all the muscles in your face. “i don’t like red sauce but i still eat pizza?”

he shook his head at you. “you’re a fraud.”

you just stood at him, your mouth basically agape with surprise. “ . . . you’re so odd.”

he shrugged, laughing at himself. “told you i’m a fussy eater.”

“no, there’s fussy eater, alfie, and then there’s you.”

he raised his shoulder again.

you watched him, standing up onto the curb and stepping towards the counter. “i’ll ask without sauce?”

“what?! no, no it’s ok,” he stepped in, confusing you a little. “don’t do that.”

“why? they won’t mind?”

“that’s so embarrassing,” he mumbled between you, standing so close you could smell the faint scent of beer on his breath. not in a turnful way, but in a . . musky, manly-scented way — and if kind of made you go what the fuck.

“no it’s not,” you smiled slightly, reassuring him with your eyes before approaching the counter. you felt him grab your wrist you assumed to pull you back but he let go and stepped back, hands in his hair. you didn’t get why he’d be so embarrassed. you didn’t care. you were sure the guy didn’t care so long as you placed that €10 in his hands. “hi! can i get a plain margarita please?”

he nodded, and you eyed the menu, your eyes lighting up as you spotted an even better solution. “oh! alfie, how about garlic bread?” you looked over your shoulder and he looked up from behind you, agreeing. “and a garlic bread as well, please.”

you sat down on the curb with both boxes on your lap, your coins rattling in your hand before you stuffed it back in your pocket. “i didn’t ask for a sauceless pizza . . not that it would’ve mattered,” you handed him his box.

“thanks,” he sheepishly smiled. “i just feel like . . i mean i go to subway and i order ham and cheese . .” he looked at you unashamed but acting like he should be. “i just know they’re judging me hard behind the counter.”

“i wouldn’t care . .” you shook your head. “you think too much of what people care about you — well, unimportant people. i mean you’re never gonna see that guy again,” you nodded to the man in the stall. “and i’m sure he’s seen worse things on this street than a guy ordering a cheese bread.”

alfie nodded, opening his lid. “yeah, you’re right. i dunno, i do care about what unimportant people think. and i usually don’t care what people think.”

“yeah,” you flipped open the top and grabbed a slice, the cheese thick and stringy. your mouth was watering. “thank you, by the way.”

“i fuckin’ love garlic bread,” alfie mumbled before lifting it to his mouth. two seconds later, a sharp gasp left his lips. “AH! FUCK!” he covered it, “fucking scalding!”

you laughed unexpectedly, trying to hold your food in your mouth mid-bite while your eyes closed, chuckling deeply at his stupidity.

“ooowwww,” he continued, looking at you with an amusement in his eyes but a pain - eyes glossy, like if he didn’t laugh right now, he could probably cry. it was very sweet.

“aw,” you shared sympathy, your own eyes glossy from the subtle tears of laughter. “you alright?”

“yeah,” he breathed, wiping his eye, “that fucking burned.”

you laughed again, hunching over slightly, covering your mouth, your chewing on hold.

he could be so funny without trying to be.

you thought of how he’d reached over and tapped his card before you could pay, how he walked on the outside of the pavement without even thinking, how he tried to play off when cheese burned the roof of his mouth when really you knew he was hurt.

your mum could hear the soft snickering on the line. “what are you laughing at?”

“nothing,” you shook your head, “something stupid.”

“hmph . . alright. what’s your plans for today? last night and all that.”

you let out a breath, sipping your bottle of water. “i don’t know. probably go hard tonight.”

“y/n don’t say that!” she groaned. “i don’t want you back in a body bag! nor a bone out of place!”

“mum calm down . . i got holiday insurance.”

“my nerves are away with you, girl. i’m going.”

you laughed over the phone. “alright. i’ll text you later. i miss you.”

“i know, but you’re doing alright. this time tomorrow you’ll be getting ready for the airport.”

“i know. that’s true,” you looked down at the pool again, hearing a slide door open. it was so early you could hear all the weird bugs cricketing and humming about, the birds chirping faintly in the trees. they all went into hiding when the apartment blocks came to life. “alright, i love you. talk to you later.”

“i love you more. please don’t go too crazy.”

“i won’t. love you. bye!”

“bye honey.”

you dropped your phone on your chest, not knowing how to cope with the feeling in your chest. it was almost overwhelming how ticklish it felt, like it wasn’t supposed to feel this relieved.

you were still in the top from last night, the material comfy and more than likely to be a sleep shirt when you got back to the uk.

“should we go in and get you a new top?”

you smiled and shook your head as he took a step towards the one of many identical shops you passed by on the daily when on holiday. the type of shop that sold clothes from flowey tops to swimshorts, bikinis that were trendy back in 2014 to t-shirts with dirty sayings. sunglasses, towels, beach bags, hats, inflatables. it had magnets, snow globes, pens, mirrors, toys like the little robotic walking dogs and designer handbags for a tenth of the price.

“come on, let just go in,” he nodded his head encouragingly, already up the first step.

you fought to roll her eyes although you weren’t entirely mad. you followed him in the cramped space and didn’t know where to look first. scanning for a pretty bracelet or keyring. you plucked three magnets while you were there incase you missed your chance tomorrow for your relatives. alfie nudged your arm and you looked to find him pointing out a lighter with a pair of tits on it.

“what the fuck,” you laughed, picking it up. “maybe i should get this for my nan.”

“was thinking the same thing, you know.” he looked at you, watching a smile break out on your face. you both laughed at the image.

“these are kinda sick,” you tried on a nice pair of shades, liking how they framed your face.

you looked to alfie who handed you the same pair in a better colour. you chose them instead.

“do i look like a dad with these?” he tried on a rectangular pair of 2000s themed, surprisingly pulling them off. “yeah!” you placed a cap on his head, “you look like you’re about to host a barbecue.”

you looked at yourselves in the skinny mirror, taking a moment to realise you were getting carried away with all the gadgets, more than likely not even going to use them back home.

you held up a set with mirrored lenses, and he took his off, letting you slide them on for him. you were then just staring at yourself in them, impressed by the quality. “wow. do not wear those to a poker game.”

alfie smiled, watching your eyes dart across his face, getting a real good look at your eyes without feeling weird about it. “right, let me find a top.”

the shop had some nice pieces you would actually wear, and not all just neon t-shirts with writing like ‘free blowjobs’ or ‘old pussy is better than no pussy’. “i think this will do,” you held up a white bandeau top that was frilly at the end, knotted at the bust. “or this one,” a red one in the other. they were €8.

“that one.”

you held up the white. “this one?”

“yeah, that’s more you.”

your cheeks warmed unexpectedly. “ok.”

you were at the till, paying for your things when he was still messing around with things, trying wicker hates on. “i think i’m gonna buy this.”

he had an odd looking hat on his head, but you just let him be. “whatever you want, babe.”

you paused at the till, grimacing at yourself for the pet name and freaked at our easily it slipped out. you tried to play it off as a patronising joke, but really you were horrified at yourself. alfie noticed it though, and laughed, looking at himself in the mirror. “i do look sick.” he looked over at you.

you rolled your eyes, amused by his antics.

“hey.”

you jumped at the unexpected voice, seeing faye standing at the slide doors of the balcony.

her hair was a nest, recently waken from her slumber. her makeup was still half on, her tiny pyjamas twisted. she looked like she came out of a coma.

“hey.”

she stepped out cautiously, her arms folded into herself. you faced out to the view.

“i just wanted to talk about last night . . apologise for my behaviour.”

you pulled a face, still viewing the scenery. “to be honest, i don’t want to. i don’t care, faye. i accept your apology and i appreciate your maturity for recognising your wrongdoing, but respectfully, you need to stay away from me today. all of you, until i feel like talking to you,” you confessed, your tone plain. “you’re lucky i wasn’t drunker than i was or i would have literally smashed your face in. all your faces in. and partly i still want to, so please just steer clear of me and go back to bed.”

you could feel the tension spawn in as the words left your mouth although your tone wasn’t aggressive. her movements slowed and any sense of easiness, vanished. she no longer felt invited out onto the balcony as she realised you were still upset.

she swallowed, and slowly nodded her head. “ok.”

“thanks.”

she backtracked into the room, leaving you alone again with a exhausting wave of agitation.

you always did try to avoid fights as a whole, especially when anyone was drunk, you know how people get. you never wanted to fight your friends - and you’d never want to hurt them - but when they got in that mood, you had to challenge yourself to not give in - because it’s an unfair fight to begin with, nevermind drunk you.

last night caught you off guard. you felt you didn’t really have a chance to react because you were so goddamn confused — trying to make sense of what was actually happening and what you’d done wrong.

you guess that’s what hurt: you’re friends should’ve recognised your innocence instead of painting it as fakeness . . which again, was confusing on your behalf because when had you ever been fake to your friends?

that was the whole point of a friendship, you weren’t fake with one another?

you tried to settle yourself, to not think of last night and think happy thoughts! and things to look forward to!

beth said the girls were going to go shopping this morning for souvenirs and such to bring home, but you’d declined the invite, explaining you’d already gotten yours last night and was going to spend the morning down at the pool. she didn’t push, and went on to get ready, telling you to enjoy it.

the pool was empty at this time of day, you were the only one down this early, the sun thankfully blasting on full heat as the UV hit a new high of 10.

you put on your tiniest bikini — well, ok, not your tiniest, but one that wouldn’t leave mad tannins nor feel like it was agitating you with tightness or loose strings. you didn’t plan on wearing it at all, but with no one around and the sun at its highest, you thought why not.

your hair was up and out of your way as you tottled on down to the best placed sundeck there was, laying your towel down and placing your belongings beside it.

you were taking it easy today, from start ‘til finish. you took out your kindle and enjoyed the silence after costing some SPF over you, not trying to catch wrinkles before 25, and relaxed. you didn’t even think about last night, nor wondered what the girls were up to. you just zoned in on your book while sweat began to puddle on your stomach, cooking your skin softly.

you’re 20 pages in when you hear footsteps approaching. your eyes lift above the screen to see none other than your companion last night, sunglasses on and a pharmacy bag in his hands, nike sliders scraping the ground.

“oh . . hey.”

“hey,” you shuffle up a little, not wanting your chins to be on show.

“how’s things?” he slows towards you, standing at the side of you, at a distance. he feels like you’ve seen enough of him, like he might be suffocating you a bit with his presence these last few days.

“they’re . . alright. no bad blood but . . space is needed today,” you nod, squinting up at him. his shades are dark, you can’t see his eyes, but even without them, he’s going his best to not acknowledge the absolute scene in front of him which is you entirely oiled up from head to toe; your stomach glistening in a way he almost feels sick. “why were you at the chemist?”

he senses your concern, and opens the bag, looking down at it, “it’s for carter. he’s so burnt, i actually offered to go get him a certain cream that will help. he’s the only one that came home last night. i actually feel a bit bad for him, i know he’s in pain.”

“at least it’s the last day, he should stay in the shade today.”

“yeah, i think that’s the plan. we can’t really leave anyway, the other two have the only keycard, so . . if we go out, we can’t get back in,” he shares, stepping back.

“that’s a bit annoying. you should just stay by the pool today anyway, it’s too warm to be doing anything, i think,” you slide back down, arm over your head.

“yeah. feel like i been up your arse though, you not sick of me?” he makes fun of himself, and you smile, his expression tickling you. “i stick you 5 days a week, buddy, this is nothing new,” you grin.

he still watches you from his door, knocking for carter to answer with a smile on his face before it opens. “i’ll be back out then.”

“UV’s 10. you might as well.”

“dunno what that means.”

you roll your eyes, “it means you’ll get a really good tan today.”

“oh sick.”

you continue sunbathing, book in hand, trying to fight the urge to get in the pool when your front half of your body is thudding like its own heartbeat. you need to flip over, but you need your back protected.

“poor guy’s a lobster.”

“yeah?” you set your book down as alfie comes to sit next to you.

“yeah. i told him to call me if he needs anything else though,” he lays his towel down, taking off his cap. “jesus, it is hot today.”

“i know,” you watch him, eyes scanning his back as he adjusts his things and takes off his watch. “make sure you put suncream on . . especially on your moles.”

he looks at you over his shoulder and smiles, “you sound like my mum.”

“i know but . . i know with my cousin, he has moles and my auntie prioritised them being protected in the sun so just — make sure you’re covered. you’ll still tan.”

he finds it endearing, and reaches for his bottle to squeeze a generous amount in his hand. you watch him until you’re satisfied he’s ok.

he runs it across his chest, around his neck, and even at the sides of his head where his hair is shaven down. he does a good job, but you’re still staring at his back, the little dots along his spine he has no chance of reaching, even with all that muscle. you have to point it out. “your back, alf.”

he looks at you, and in response, holds out the bottle.

you take it, because you know it’s physically impossible for him to do it himself. “move up.”

he’s smiling, because you both know this is cliché, but he knows you’re too cautious for his health to give a fuck. he shuffles up and faces his back to you as you move to his seat and sit behind him, your legs folded.

“i could just put two dots on your back . . .” you say, rubbing it into your hands so it’s not cold, “but i’m just going to cover everywhere because it’s so hot, okay?” you don’t touch him until he give you his permission.

“ok.”

you place your hands on his shoulders, and alfie tries not to flinch. your hands start at his broad shoulder blades, coating them in the protective coconut scent and glide down and around them. already, you’re squeezing more in to cover the base of his back, his muscles like bumps under your palms.

he inhales sharply through his nose.

you don’t say anything.

you move lower, dragging the suncream down either side of his spine, palms flattening, smoothing the liquid out evenly. you were suddenly hyper-aware of how close you were — your knees almost brushing his hips, your shadow falling over him. he fidgets when you reach the dip in his back, his shoulders tensing.

“you’re gonna miss bits if you keep fidgeting.”

“sorry,” he muttered, and he didn’t move. if anything, he went still.

you continued, making sure to leave a slightly heavy dollop on top of the moles for extra protection. “if i do your sides, are you going to be ticklish?”

alfie breathed a laugh, his fingers pinching his head like he was in deep concentration, or fighting a pain, almost. “yeah.”

you smile a bit, “. . so . . you want me to leave it then?”

“no, just do it, i’ll hold my breath.”

you pull a face even though he can’t see it. you let out a loud giggle. “alfie that won’t do anything.”

“i know, just do it!” he laughs, bracing himself.

you ease into it, following the natural slope of his back until your fingers reached his sides and skim his ribs, careful and not hurried. the air feels thicker, as you run the ridges of his his ribcage, feeling muscle there.

the way your hands moulded to the shape of his body, almost gently gripping him when doing his sides—

alfie felt like he was fighting for his life.

it shouldn’t feel like this, he told himself. it was suncream, nothing else, but the slow drag of your hands, the way you were working carefully instead of rushing it —sent a strange, tight sensation through his chest.

don’t be weird, don’t be weird, don’t be weird. he told himself.

he tried to be normal, tried to act as nonchalant as a guy did when a girl —you— sat behind him in a bikini that with everything shining and on show, bare, with fingers as slow and deliberate as they worked over him like it was routine.

he hated to be a pervert — but you had the set pair of tits he’d ever seen - and a girl from school had got a boob job in your year.

“alright,” you slowed, and alfie let out the breath he’d been holding, chest rising fully. you smiled.

he turned before you’d properly finished, muscles moving when he adjusted, stomach flexing, and your eyes landed on the faint trail of darker hair disappeared beneath his swim shorts.

you pulled your hands away, too quickly.

you wiped them on your towel, eyes deliberately averted now. “let it dry before you lie down. it’ll only take a few minutes.”

he nodded, still not trusting his voice, fingers still pinching the top of his nose.

you didn’t question it. just got up and moved back to your original seat.

“thanks.”

“you’re welcome.”

it grows quiet as alfie sits there, doing as you’d told to let his cream dry in.

he watches you next to him. “ so you actually reading or just pretending?”

“i am reading.”

“what you reading?”

“a book?”

he throws his hat at you and you laugh a little, sitting up a bit. “it’s a thriller with a bit of romance going on. i think she’s actually just killed the guy.”

“oh. fitting.”

you glance at him again, catching the line of his jaw, the way his hair seems lighter at the tips, even the solidness of his neck made you wonder how much he actually pushed himself in the gym.

you looked away quickly, heart acting up.

the birthmark near his collarbone caught your eye before you turned. “did you cover that?” you said, deflecting.

“offering your services again?”

“please just put some on it so i can sunbathe in peace. please.”

he smirked, and reached for the bottle anyway.

ᯓ ✈︎

remember you said you were taking it easy?

yeah, well, that was out the window.

you haven’t paid for a single drink all night, every time your cup’s empty, there’s another one shoved into your hand: vodka lemonade; something blue; something pink that tastes like sweets and nothing else - you can’t taste the alcohol, and you know the servers fill the glass half way. it’s dangerous. you know it’s.

you take a sip anyway.

juice. genuinely just juice.

it felt like you just teleported to the strip. getting ready in the apartment was fine, being in the company with the girls was ok too. they came back with a handbag (fake, but a damn good dupe) of the one you’d said you’d hunt down and find the next time you guys went abroad. they presented it to you, saying it was a peace offering and an apology, telling you how they’d all pitched in to buy it for you. you accepted it, wearing it out tonight.

you’re in a floaty state, the drink moving quick, pulling you into that state of perfect drunk.

at least you’re laughing.

the girls are back in your orbit, arms linked, hands around the other, screaming lyrics at the top of their lungs like the song was written for them personally. faye keeps pulling you in for hugs that last too long, pressing her forehead to yours and shouting apologies you can’t quite make out.

courtney grabs your hands and spins you under the lights. the floor is sticky and wet, your feet slide. you nearly go down and all of you shriek, collapsing into each other in hysterics.

everything’s funny.

everything’s loud.

everything feels okay.

your head buzzes, pleasantly empty, like there’s fuck all behind your eyes. just the drink you’ve been consuming, swishing around in your head.

the boys played a drinking game before they came out. it was supposed to be an easy game, something to help pass the time; to play in the back while they all got ready, waiting their turn for the shower and for jay to finish ironing their shirts for tonight. it got to the point where alfie had stepped out of the shower to complete his go and dylan helped jay take his shot without him needing to lift his hand off the ironing board.

they were wonky by the time they’d walked down the street, laughing like lunatics and acting like animals with their rough play and running and jumping into things.

you were at the table, sipping your straw, moving your body casually to the music while the girls prepared themselves for a photo, rustling bags for lip liners, fluffing hair. you clocked the other group among the shuffling about 10 feet away.

the place was packed, and the instant joel clocked you, you knew they were coming to join your table.

he hadn’t even set his cup down when courtney had shoved her camera in his hand. apparently digital cameras were the coming trend. “jo-wel take—take our photo please,” the sound of her slurring made you all laugh.

your eyes drifted, eyeing the crowd when you saw the others, two approaching, two still at the bar. alfie looked at you knowingly.

his expression was flat, his eyes still, glancing at your table; zoned on faye in her cheap cropped jacket, cold on courtney in her stupid feathered top, looking up beth and that tacky necklace around her neck.

you caught it, even when he glanced around the room afterward to play it casual; in his navy polo, fitting him perfectly with where it emphasised him where he wanted it most - catching his slim waist but tight around his biceps, complimenting his skin tone and the tan he’d accomplished this trip. the top button was undone, promising eyes the smallest sight of the start of his chest, not that you didn’t know what it looked like already. his hair was styled effortlessly, not an inch of stubble on his face, clean shaven, his skin glowing.

your eyes trailed down his arms, catching the thickness of his forearms, the faint faint running along it down to his wrist where a heavy watch sat; signet ring on his pinky.

your heart was thumping with the base anyway, the heat sending your head to a floaty place, the sun kicking your ass in the way it knocked any sense out of your head, especially with the company of drink in your system.

you watched him making his way forward like it was against his own will, not mad, just . . disappointed . . uncomfortable almost, like, his face might have been blank but you knew it read ‘for fuck’s sake, not here’ — and selfishly, you didn’t care —

because he looked so fucking sexy.

FUCK! THAT FELT GOOD TO ADMIT TO YOURSELF.

fuck, he did.

he was so fucking sweet.

and he looked so good.

you weren’t even going to hide it, you were tired of acting, the sun leaving you loose - your face was nearly like a kicked puppy, almost as if you could sense his irritated towards you for being back with your mates he’d basically recused you from the night before.

you could feel it in your eyebrows, how they were raised with shame and guilt.

fuck. you were so drunk.

he met your eyes, and one look and he knew how you felt — and he physically couldn’t keep up an act. he dropped his tense attitude upon seeing your knowing stare, and subtly, softly, you could see the tension ease in his face. his eyes falling gentle, the fucking smallest, tiniest lift in the corner of his lip as he circled around to you, still not speaking a word.

he stopped next to you, a step behind, not saying a word. you stood with a sloppy grin on your face.

“Y/N GET IN THE PICTURE!”

you stumbled as jess threw her arm around your neck, pulling you into the end of the photo, your smile so unbelievably drunk, eyes growing heavy, your body weight thrown onto your friend for the small lense to capture. yet, the digi cam was big enough to capture your hand clasped around the bicep in the back for stability, holding you up.

you stepped back onto your feet, looking for your bag, moving your hair from your face as you crouched, however, a hand came to take your own and pull you up slow and steadily, the bag around their arm.

you looked at alfie with your 90s style shoulder bag on his shoulder, your eyes asking the question.

“it was on the floor,” he quietly dropped your hand.

you looked to the handbag.

“it was open.”

your head shot up to his eyes.

suddenly, your drowsy state was alert.

he stared at you.

alfie still had your bag on his shoulder when he leaned down and slowly slipped it down his arm, mouth close to your ear so you could hear over the noise.

“do you want to go to the bathroom?”

you pulled back to look at him, for some reason, feeling like this was a trap. like, there was no way he was actually . . getting at . . doing what you think you were both going to do . . with that . . stuff still sitting in your bag.

he answered for you and lead the way, nodding to the toilets and guided you with a hand on your back, keeping you close in the crowds but carrying the authority to manoeuvre you both through it.

you had some balls still carrying that packet about with the amount of police surrounding the area lately. all the popular holiday destinations had so many law enforcement casually standing around party destinations in full gear: heavy black boots, bulletproof vests, massive guns occupying their hands. you’d become used to it as the nights carried on, but tonight seemed to be the first night you felt actually paranoid with the sexy cops standing about.

waiting on a free stall felt like eternity. standing with your arms crossed, head tilted, leaning on the wall; alfie mirroring you from the wall opposite, both your eyes on each other. it was quieter but still loud with the multiple voices, the air thick and warm, you could almost bite into it.

the girls was jam packed. alfie nodded when he felt the men’s was emptier, and you hesitantly followed, partly ashamed to be heading in with him when you knew exactly what everyone was thinking when seeing you.

hoots and hollers emerged from deep voices as you entered the stall, alfie’s tall frame hiding you mostly from eyes as he shot warning stares at those watching, even so much as pausing before following you in with his hand on the door, his unimpressed face saying it all.

he turned to see big, doe eyes looking up at him from the closed toilet seat, hands clutching both ends of your handbag.

“are you judging me?”

his face screwed up in response.

“do you think i’m a skank?”

alfie’s features deepened further. “what?”

“i don’t even know what it is.”

alfie’s eyes widened at that. “wha—” he looked at your handbag like it was a bomb, “y/n that’s dangerous.”

“well it’s either ket or ‘DMA.”

he swallowed down at you.

not because he was scared, but because as much as much as he slagged the shit out of girls who did drugs on a weekly basis, turned his nose up at and even used as ammo in silly weekend debates -

it was the hottest fucking thing coming from you.

“have you done any of them?”

his shoulders relaxed.

you were asking if he was comfortable.

alfie crouched down so he was eye-level with you, a soft, reassuring smile on his face as he took your handbag from you and grinned. “have you?”

you watched him unzip your bag before snatching it back, holding it to your chest. “be honest — you think i’m a skank.”

his head hit the door of the cubicle, an annoyed look taking his face now. “y/n, i’d never and have never thought of you as skank. i don’t think you’re a dirty . . disgusting, ratty . . sniffing scumbag.”

you were so worried this was the last thing you were going to do with this weird holiday bond you’d formed whilst away before you jetted off home and he told everyone how much of a sleazy, waster, piece of shit you were sticking your nose in a pack of powder every night. you’d be ruined. so unbelievably ruined.

“i think you’re funny. you’ve the biggest fucking nerve talking about everyone else doing it on a monday fucking morning,” he snickers a laugh, and then is unable to hold it back, letting his cackles out.

you joined.

“you fuckin’ bitch!”

you laughed harder, rocking back in your seat as alfie let himself drop onto the floor, holding his stomach.

and just like that, your nerves were gone. you lay against the tiled wall, looking down at him across from him in that stupid, sexy, navy polo top.

“have you had a good night?” he asks.

you watch him, brain going smoosh. “yeah. they’ve been ok.”

he lifts his head in acknowledgment.

“i’m glad you guys came though.”

he just smiles.

you reach for the zip of your bag after watching for a minute, the littlest bit of hesitation numbing in your fingers, for the simple fact that, you felt like you didn’t need it. you were content how you were, happy with the buzz you had rocking with the drink alone - but - alfie was already here, you were here, he was here for one reason and one reason only and you weren’t going to let him down.

besides, when you were left with the girls, you’d be thankful for the hit.

alfie watched your fingers pop open the bag, drowning out the noise in the room as you both became hyper-focused on the task at hand. you looked from the packet to him, your heart racing a little, your cheek beginning to flush.

why was this so embarrassing???

“you first,” you tilted it to his direction.

alfie shuffled forward until he was infront of you. his hand curled around your wrist, keeping it steady while the other felt for something in his pocket.

upon patting himself down, he swore under his breath, and looked to the side in thought. “. . . joel has my key . . .”

without missing a beat, you scooped your acrylic, pinky nail into the bag of powder and held it out under his right nostril.

alfie tried to hide his amusement in this serious situation, and dipped his head ever so slightly, locking his eyes with yours.

he stayed with you after few minutes after you’d snorted your share up your nose, the embarrassment and shame still hanging heavy while looking at him afterward.

you still half-expected that certain look from him. the one where his eyes held that unavoidable judgement in them. a smugness to him that said ‘you’re just like the rest of them.’ you were ready for him to leave, to snicker and walk away, to fill the boys in on what he’d just got up to with you in the stall and maybe even add his own little spin to it.

but he didn’t.

he watched you tip your head back while patting down your nose, placing the tiny baggie in your handbag with the smallest twitch in your hand. “you alright?”

his voice spooked you despite its monotone, and you looked at him, nodding, tucking your hair behind your ear that kept falling forward. you sat on the toilet lid while he remained on the floor in front of you, waiting for you to make the move that reassured him — you were okay.

you could hardly look at him, waiting for the high to kick in so you could get on with your night.

but when you stole a glance at him, alfie was already watching you — no judgement. no smugness. no amusement. nothing.

he reached forward and moved the hair out of your face again, his fingers sliding smoothly behind the shel of your ear, making sure it didn’t move.

you stared at him.

the bathroom door kicked open and you both spilled back out into the club like nothing had happened, like you hadn’t just flipped the night sideways, and how from there it all blurred into one long, messy memory.

alfie getting weirdly fascinated by the hand dryer and announcing it was “actually mad how powerful these are.” jay immediately trying to fight a traffic cone outside and losing. joel insisting he could hear the music echoing inside his bones. you laughing so hard at absolutely nothing that alfie had to steady you by the elbow while telling everyone you were ‘just overwhelmed by the vibes.’ the strip feeling brighter and louder than usual, police sirens popping up somewhere that sent everyone running purely on instinct, you and alfie sprinting for half a street before realising no one was chasing you and crouching behind a shuttered shop crying with laughter. jay reappearing out of nowhere and asking if anyone had ‘seen his dignity.’ alfie buying water and pressing it into your hands every ten minutes like he’d decided it was his job to keep you alive. you remember sitting on a curb debating whether the moon looked fake tonight, or sharing crisps with strangers who told you they loved you, or alfie leaning in to tell you something important and then completely losing the thought halfway through which sent you both into hysterics.

you couldn’t stay off him. arms brushing stood next to each other; legs pressed together sat on the curb. his body was always close enough, the warmth never left. he’d been glued to you all night, and you, him. you both began to lose your friends when taking too long in the bathroom or down a quiet alleyway, each one breaking off throughout the night it felt as you were in and out of your handbag, combining packets, losing lip liners and dropping phones.

not that it affected either of you. your company was the only one that mattered, considering everyone else wasn’t on your upbeat level.

talking fast. moving faster. giggling loud. practically jumping in your steps, you were wide-eyed and ready for the night to be yours.

it was hard to stay still.

you watched a fight break out from the inside of a club, your arm tangled with alfie’s as your cheek hovered at his back, initially going to tell him something, and instead become fascinated by the sight in front of you. alfie was watching it too. even the bar tender making your drink was watching.

you broke out of it when, eventually, someone did try to break them up, and the smallest of strands from alfie’s cotton shirt brushed the tip of your nose, unaware of how close you were leaning into him.

you wanted to melt right into his bones.

especially when the girl next to him started sharing a giggle with him at the bar, and you can’t remember if you did pull her long, curled ponytail or just badly want to. you don’t remember having a long face, but you recall alfie turning around and backing you up as you refused to take so many steps away from him, seeing his lips pulled in that loud smirk, like he knew something was up as he carried both your glasses.

“what’s the matter?” he leaned down to speak in your ear.

“nothin’.”

“yeah there is.”

“there’s not,” your eyes shot to the side to look at him, faces so close, you could see individual hairs at the start of his eyebrows.

he tried to make you laugh, pressing his forehead to the side of your head like the rhino he was which made break instantly. his arm snuck around the front of you in a somewhat hug as he squeezed you tight, your body moulding perfectly against his.

whether it was the bass of the music and the multicoloured lights, the endless drinking, or the entire packet of whatever you’d bought rewiring your insides — your legs felt lighter, your arms looser, your heart racing at the same time it slowed down, and when you didn’t drop your hands from around alfie’s neck after pointing out some guy to the right, when you stayed there swaying with him instead - you started to realise how frighteningly in control and out of control you were of both your body and mind. how close he was, how warm and heavy his hands felt at your ribcage, how comfortable the position was for both of you.

your hand curled into the nape of his neck when a group of girls shoved past, teeth sinking into your tongue as he instinctively pulled you closer, close enough that you had to lift one leg slightly to make room for them to squeeze through. loud and squeaky, wedges stomping into the ground that they’d end up 6ft under if the brushed your baby toe.

he was fixed on your side profile, even with the scowl on your face that said you were two seconds away from punching someone, and he couldn’t look away when you turned back to him. he wanted to see every detail. the curl of your lashes. the softness of your skin, even the faint acne scars along your jaw that only made you more real to him. the tiny crease between your brows, the baby hairs by your ear - he kept dragging his eyes back to your mouth, only to get trapped again by the compelling masterpiece that were your eyes.

he loved seeing the many changes over the past week: in the sun, in the moonlight, under bright multicoloured lights or the reflection of water. he wished he could slam the colour in the palm of his hand and use it as his preference for all future belongings.

“we should go,” he said suddenly, voice low, almost careful.

“go where?”

he blinked like the answer was obvious. “home.”

you tilted your head, squinting at him, grin still pulling at your mouth. “why?”

“pool,” he added after a second. like it was the most natural next step in the world.

and it was.

it seemed like an amazing idea.

the strip was too loud, too bright, too crowded anyway — things were starting to annoy you, unless it was the steady pressure of his hand guiding you through bodies, unless it was the way he kept glancing back to make sure you were still there, still smiling, still upright, still with him.

it felt like you reached the apartment block in 2 seconds thanks to a speedy tuktuk, the giddiness kicking in when dropped mere meters from your complex. a new wave of thrill and excitement shot through you, lighting every nerves with a new reckless and exhilarating blaze. you kicked your heels off in the street, abandoned carelessly by a palm tree and bolted to the pool, bare foot, laughing while you ran, jumping in not five seconds before alfie did, sending a massive wave of a splash everywhere.

you surfaced spluttering, hair in your face, still laughing when you felt him reach for you underwater, lifting you up just to throw you under again in the deep end, and doing it over and over again until your stomach hurt with laughter, struggling to breathe.

he had the sense to quit, chuckling to himself as he reached for you to pull you back to the shallow end, inhabiting a surge of confidence to pull your your arm up over his shoulder, the other following in your own consciousness.

you looked like a drowned rat. you know you did. you sputtered more water, scraping your hair back, knowing your eyelashes were probably clumped together and your makeup beginning to wash off whether it was waterproof or not.

you laughed in his face when seeing his eyes dance over yours, knowing you probably looked scary.

you quickly fell to silence, chests rising heavily under the water, droplets falling from both your hair and lashes — alfie’s annoyingly looking longer and thicker than yours ever would, you couldn’t quit looking at them.

it was only when you realised you couldn’t move your body any physically closer that you noticed how tangled you actually were — both of your legs hooked loosely around his waist, just above his hips to keep while your your chest brushing his every time the water lifted you. his hands sat firm on your hips, holding you without daring drop lower.

the realisation hit all at once, sharp and dizzying, the laughter drying up in your throat as the air between you changed.

thick and sharp, suddenly very aware of itself.

alfie seemed to clock it at the exact same time.

his grip shifted slower. more deliberate. his eyes flicked down, then back up to your face, and something darkened there, something heated that made your stomach flip.

“do you actually hate me?”

his question catches you off guard.

your break your gaze off his lips and look at him in the eyes, pulling back ever so slightly, you place a hand on his shoulder with a confused look that always comes across passive-aggressive.

he continues. “i just feel like you hate me too much to . . .” his gaze falters, pulling his own confused gaze looking off behind your shoulder.

“to what?” you try to block his view.

“i dunno.”

you stare at him.

thirty seconds pass.

you cross your arms behind his neck. “whether i hate you or not, does that matter right now?”

he glances up.

your smile is loud.

“you’re gonna blame me for this in the morning.”

“i know.”

there was no time to waste.

with fingers curling into his wet hair, you dragged him down to meet you, lips crashing together hard enough that he made a sound you felt in your chest more than heard.

the water sloshed around you as he stumbled beneath the water, hands tightening like instinct had taken over, like he’d been waiting for permission he hadn’t realised he was holding his breath for. his hands dropped to your ass as you opened your mouth, allowing him full access as your tongues met each other for the first time.

you were starving for him. you couldn’t help but almost eat him, forcing your tongue to taste every inch of him. he couldn’t breathe, trying to keep up with your needy, eager pace.

“fuck,” he breathed against your mouth, and you laughed quick once, eyes still closed before kissing him again.

this one slower. deeper. even messier.

he moved you both until your back hit the pool wal, your teeth catching his lip by accident and he groaned: low, startled, pleased, pulling you impossibly closer in the water.

every nerve felt lit up, electrifying, the pool suddenly too small – too full of him.

your arms slipped from his hair to your skirt, thumbs tucking down the sides before tugging them down.

“wait-wait—wait,” alfie pulled away just enough so that your nose were still brushing. “ . . . i don’t think i can do this in a pool . .”

your brows furrowed instinctively.

the door to his apartment slammed against the wall as he carries you both in, kicking it closed as a trail of water soaked the floorboards in your steps.

he lifts you without warning — just hooks his arms under your thighs and hauls you up against him like you weigh nothing — and you gasp, instinctively clinging to him, legs locking around his waist as he stumbles toward the steps, still kissing you like he’s scared if he stops for even a second you’ll change your mind.

your mouths moved in sync, your body tingling every second you guys touch, an inexplainable feeling of warmth and familiarity consuming you despite this being your first time with one another. there’s relief the same time there is an aching amount of impatience.

his hands slide from your back to your ass to your hips where he grips you, hauling your against his, the ache is unbearable between your legs. your hands pull at his shirt before you guide his wrist in the direction of your soaked, see-through skirt. “alfie, please.”

he answers with what you want, peeling his heavy shirt off before throwing it to the side an pushing down your skirt along, his hand sliding into your wet thong not a second after.

a moan escapes you at the contact and alfie stutters a breath of air, like, he can’t believe this is happening. that he’s the one making you like this. “you ok?”

“yes, please, hurry up,” you whine, holding his wrist, the wall keeping you upright for now. you can’t even look at him in his shirtless state or you might combust.

you struggle to kiss him as his fingers stroke you at first, his palm covering your mound whole as he rubs you slow and torturously before sliding a finger between your lips.

your moan loudly, and he takes the opportunity to slip his tongue back in your mouth, now taking control as you melt into him.

he’s fast to add another finger, pumping them into you slowly at first until you’re used to their intrusion, your nails digging into his bare shoulder blade. “oh my god, quick,” you beg, lips brushing his as he fastens his pace.

you don’t know if it’s the drugs that makes the experience of him fingering you so incredibly or if it’s just alfie in general, but you’re embarrassed by how good his fingers alone are. long and thick and familiar with what they’re doing, “fuck, i’m gonna come already,” you whisper pathetically, voice hoarse, your head dropping as he keeps going, his lips finding your jaw as he sucks and nips.

you remember coming hard, his fingers pumping in and out of you at an ungodly pace through it until you could feel your own release on your legs.

your mouth hung open, a string of breathless, whiney sounds leaving them as he slowed his moments until you gave his shoulder the smallest push, the pleasure teetering overstimulation, you needed a moment to collect yourself.

although it really was a moment, because in your bambi-like stance, your stumble towards him with your hands pulling at your top, peeling off with your bra unbuckling after. alfie stumbled back also, his eyes flying from your face to your tits: his mouth filled with saliva.

your hands gripped his face while his grabbed your thighs, hoisting you up on him with ease as you wrapped your legs around him.

you could feel how hard he was. how badly he wanted you. if his dick didn’t give it away, his actions did; large hands exploring your body, mouth attacking your own, legs tripping backwards as he couldn’t think straight. “fuck me.”

you remember your back on his bed, and him dropping his torso rolling on yours, careful not to crush you with his body weight. your fingernails traced his back, his sides and his stomach, feeling the muscle everywhere but you couldn’t leave his arms alone.

boxing you in, you gripped his biceps, waiting for him to shuffle his shorts off while waiting for him, legs spread, ready and eager.

you hated when he pulled his mouth away, chasing his lips every second they parted from yours.

even in your frenzied state, when both your eyes were blown and seeing things, you saw the attentiveness in his green and the hesitance when he paused above you, boxers off, cock standing proud in all it’s glory, surprising you — but not really.

you knew alfie was a big boy. you’d be more surprised if he had been any different.

“it’s ok,” you assured, eyes trained on him in his hand.

you were so wet, he slid right in with ease.

“aw fuck—alfie!” you cried out, feeling him inch in bit by bit. he was big. the stretch burned in a way you couldn’t breathe with how good it felt. you wanted to cry with pleasure, you hadn’t experienced anything like this. your hands gripped his hips, nail digging into them, ushering him to keep going.

“fuck,” he swore, watching himself slide into you. he was already light-headed, trying not to bust.

with a final push, you moaned, eyes screwed shut, mouth wide open, feeling every inch of him push into you, every vein stroking your walls before he quickly started to move: you felt like dynamite.

your whole body was tingling. buzzing. the overbearing thrill of him skin on skin with you sending every nerve, every hormone into its own little delightful party of fireworks.

the wet sound of skin slapping built on top, the feeling of alfie’s lips trailing down your neck to your chest sending your head spinning. you opened your eyes to watch him approach your breast, watching his tongue come out to lick your nipple before taking it in his warm mouth, sucking hardly and biting delicately, your back arched for more.

your arms locked around his neck as he moved his mouth to the other, sucking it into his hot, warm mouth while his hand palmed the left, squeezing hard while his hips continued to rock into you.

“—fuuuck, alfie,” your head hit the pillows as he came back up, mouth nudging your own.

“how are you real?” he spoke against your mouth, “it’s a sick joke,” he kissed you slow, capturing your lips with his own as his hands gripped your tits, the most beautiful set of tits he’d ever laid his eyes on; the softest skin he’d ever ran his hands across.

“faster,” your breathed, mouth falling open as your noses brushed together, your nails scraping down the dip of his back. alfie quickened his pace with a swear, pulling out a little further each time before rutting back into you; pussy clinging to him tighter and tighter each time he pulled away.

“fuck, i’m not gonna last,” he admitted, your hands falling as he rose to his knees.

you gasped as his hands grip your thighs and pull you down the bed, closer to him, legs risen in a way that allows him to hit at a deeper angle. “oh—FUCK!” you yelp as he begins to ram into you, your whole body jolting with each one of his heavy thrusts.

you never want it to end.

an hour passes. maybe two. you can’t remember.

all you know is that alfie is scarily skilled at least when it comes to you both as one, because your throat hurts with the noise coming from it all night, your legs burn from the positions they’ve been flipped in and the feeling between your legs — she hurts with a greedy satisfaction, yearning for more but knowing she can only take so much.

alfie makes you come at least three times as much as you can remember — with his fingers, with his dick, and with his mouth – which he told you he was ‘winging’ ‘cause he’d never done it before upon diving in.

you found that very hard to believe when your juices quite literally shot out of you, body wriggled with intensity, you’d never been so loud in your life in that moment.

you were spent. completely and utterly spent — to your utter dismay.

the bed was soaked. your hair was tatted. and sweat glistened your forehead. alfie’s muscles burned, sweat coated his back and abs, his hair messily sprawled across his forehead. he felt on cloud 9, nerves still dancing around with giddiness at its accomplice.

your bodies were miraculous together.

there was something about this particular match-up that would make others envious for what they didn’t know they lacked.

everything clicked. hips, hands, mouths, the rhythm you kept finding without speaking. every movement landed exactly where it was meant to, like neither of you had to adjust or second-guess or search for what the other wanted. like each move seemed to slot into place like muscle memory neither of you had learned yet.

it was fucking exhilarating. you didn’t know how to describe it as you lay there. it was the kind of fit that made your head spin, that made heat rush through you faster than your brain could keep up. messy and breathless and electric and just — perfect.

you knew you’d never experience anything like to again, and as sleep began to take over you, you wondered if it was the MDMA or ket or whatever that made you feel like that, or if it was just alfie.

you questioned it.

you tried to work out where the drugs ended and alfie began — told yourself it had to be the ket: the floaty warmth, the way everything felt unreal and too intense to trust.

but then he shifted in his sleep an pulled you closer without thinking - and your heart lept.

you waited for the regret.

for the panic.

for that familiar crash of what have i done?

but it never came . . which began to weird you out more even in your sleepy state.

however, in your safe state of security and comfort, you allowed yourself to drift, knowing there was no answers needed as of right now and no rush to run from it.

yourusername

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yourusername random selection cus i’m dead this morn 🫠 can’t believe it’s the last night, don’t want to go home 🧡🌅🪩 though i do miss my toastie machine xxx

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bffcase_yxx my fav influencer

yourmum can’t wait until your home ❤️