#alfiebuttlexreader

I’ve been thinking of AB with a new born baby recently and I had to write about it

You’re curled up on the sofa, half asleep under a blanket. The house is quiet except for the soft cooing of your newborn.

A small fuss wakes you up and before you can even move, Alfie’s already on his feet. His hair is messy, hoodie half on, eyes still a little sleepy. He moves quietly, instinctive, heading straight for the baby.

“Alright, alright, I’ve got you,” he murmurs softly, and you can hear the gentle way he settles her against his chest. One hand supporting her head, the other rubbing slow circles on her back. She quiets almost instantly.

You shift on the sofa, watching him. A few weeks ago he’d have been nervous, double-checking every movement, looking at you like he needed permission. Now he moves like he knows exactly what he’s doing, calm and steady.

“She’s got you wrapped around her finger already,” you say softly.

He smiles down at her. “Course she does.”

“You’ve been up every time she cries.”

“So have you.”

“Not as fast as you.”

He shrugs, still focused on her. “I hear her.”

You make room on the sofa, and he sits down beside you, careful not to wake her. You lean into him, resting your head on his shoulder. His arm wraps around you automatically, holding you close.

“You should sleep,” he whispers.

“So should you,” you mumble.

“Later,” he says, brushing your hair back gently.

The baby shifts slightly and he adjusts her hold without missing a beat. You watch him, feeling your heart soften. He’s not just your boyfriend, he’s her dad now, and he makes it look effortless.

You lean up and press a soft kiss to his cheek. He turns slightly and kisses you back, careful, gentle.

“She’s got your nose,” you whisper.

“Unlucky,” he murmurs with a small grin.

After a while, she’s asleep again. Alfie rests his head against yours, still holding her close. “Think she likes me more,” he says quietly.

“Definitely not,” you answer, smiling.

You’re out with Alfie and the boys.

It’s one of those loud nights music, people talking over each other, drinks being passed around, everyone half paying attention to everything.

Alfie’s across the room when you first notice it.

A girl.

Standing a little too close to him.

Laughing a little too hard at something he’s said.

Your stomach twists slightly.

You try to ignore it. You really do.

He’s just talking.

But then she touches his arm.

And he doesn’t move straight away.

That’s when it gets under your skin.

You don’t storm over.

You don’t cause a scene.

You just go quiet.

Leaning back against the wall, arms folded, pretending you’re more interested in your drink than the way your chest feels tight.

You hate that feeling.

Hate how quickly it gets to you.

Across the room, Alfie’s still talking but something shifts.

He glances over.

Sees you.

The way you’ve gone quiet. The way you’re not looking at him anymore.

And just like that, his attention drops completely.

Mid-conversation, he steps back from the girl.

“Yeah, one sec,” he mutters, already walking away.

You don’t even realise he’s in front of you until his hand gently taps your chin, lifting your gaze.

“What’s that face for?” he asks.

“What face?”

“That one.”

“I don’t have a face.”

“You do.”

You sigh, looking away again. “You seemed busy.”

He follows your gaze briefly, then back to you.

“That?” he says casually. “Nothing.”

“She seemed to think it was something.”

He tilts his head slightly, studying you.

“You jealous?”

“No.”

“Liar.”

You glare at him slightly. “I’m not”

He cuts you off by stepping closer, hand sliding to your waist like it’s the most natural thing in the world.

“Relax,” he murmurs.

“I am relaxed.”

“You’re fuming.”

“I’m not fuming.”

He smirks slightly, but there’s something softer underneath it now.

“Come here.”

Before you can argue, he pulls you into him properly, one arm wrapped securely around your waist, the other hand coming up to your jaw.

And then he kisses you.

A proper kiss right there in the middle of the room.

Your brain short-circuits slightly.

When he pulls back, your cheeks are warm and your annoyance has completely disappeared.

“That better?” he asks quietly.

You blink at him. “You’re dramatic.”

“You started it.”

“I didn’t do anything.”

“You got jealous.”

“I did not.”

He leans in again, brushing another quick kiss against your lips, like he’s proving a point.

“Yeah,” he murmurs, “you did.”

You try to roll your eyes, but your hand is already gripping the front of his hoodie.

Behind him, you can feel people watching.

You can feel the girl watching.

Alfie doesn’t care.

If anything, he shifts slightly closer, thumb brushing over your waist.

“She knows now,” he says quietly.

“Knows what?”

He looks at you like it’s obvious.

“That you’re mine.”

You shake your head slightly, but you can’t stop the small smile tugging at your lips.

“Possessive.”

“Only when it matters.”

And judging by the way he keeps you tucked against his side for the rest of the night stealing kisses like it’s nothing, like there’s no one else in the room

Alfie had invited you to the fellas shoot. They were doing a podcast on relationships, and since you and Alfie had been together for a few years prior to YouTube they thought it was a good idea to invite you on.

You were reluctant at first, your life pretty private. But, Alfie begged and begged and you finally gave in.

The shoot was cosy, with them having just moved to the set. Alfie gave you a little tour before sitting you in front of the camera.

“Okay, Y/N. I know you’re not used to, too much of the camera. But, a few questions have been asked by the viewers so just try and relax and we can finally get some insight on why you’d choose AB”. Chip stated, as you sit down.

The camera crew set up the tripods, you sit back taking a deep breath as Alfie sits next to you, hand instinctively landing on your knee.

“All ready?” Alfie asked. You nodded as a response.

“Hey everyone and welcome back to The Fellas podcast. Today we are here with Y/N. AB’s long term Stockholm victim”. This made you giggle and Alfie roll his eyes. “Viewers you have sent in some questions and we are here to answer them. Well Y/N is not me”.

You gave a little wave to the camera before looking back at Chip for the first question.

“First question” Chip gets up his phone before looking at you “Has social media made relationships worse?”

You sit there for a moment before thinking. “Partly yes. Before Alfie would get some attention from women. Now he’s being shipped with everyone and their Nan. So, it’s hard in that respect. Also, people coming up to us in public when we are on dates for a photo. That can get annoying. But, there’s some positives. Alfie loves his job. Works hard at it too. Him being happy takes a lot of the issues away.”

“So 50/50 you’d say?”

“Yeah, depending on the day.” You nodded.

“Fair, fair. Okay next question. What’s the pettiest argument you’ve had?”

You laugh. “Probably over bread”

Chip scoffed “bread?”

“Oh god” Alfie laughs slightly next to you, obviously remembering the event.

“Yeah, so. I really wanted a sausage sandwich for dinner. I’d been craving it all day. Even said to Alfie, I can’t wait for this sausage sandwich. Gets to dinner time. Put the sausages in, Hash brown. All ready. Go to get the bread, I can’t find it anywhere. I ask Alfie and he said it had gone mouldy so he had thrown it out the day before. I was fuming. I thought surely you could have let a girl know in the morning after I’d said it so much. All the shops were closed, I couldn’t go and get any. We weren’t friends for at least a few hours after that. I’ve never ran out of bread since though”.

“To be honest, that’s a valid crash out”.

“Okay next question. What’s a weird “ick” you have?”

“Hm I have a few. Saying “yummy” as an adult. Calling themselves an “alpha” unironically and baby voice”. You make fake gagging noises at the end of each one.

“Has Alfie done any of these?” Chip wiggled his eyebrows.

“Have I fuck” Alfie scoffed

“I think maybe the Alpha one once. Probably why I got it.”

Questions continued for another half an hour before Chip wrapped up the podcast and you made your way home.

The podcast and video were a hit. Chip already asking Alfie for you to come on every few months to answer some questions, with it boosting their female audience.

Hi Anon. Ofc this is so cute 🥰

I can imagine it would be like this…

Clingy only for Alfie - Alfie Buttle

You’re not even trying to hide how tired you are.

It’s written all over you slow movements, heavy eyes, that quiet clinginess that only shows up when you’re running on empty.

Alfie’s at his desk, headphones on, editing something for a video. Focused. Or at least trying to be.

You shuffle into the room, barely lifting your feet properly, hoodie sleeves covering your hands.

He doesn’t look up straight away.

“You alright?” he asks, eyes still on the screen.

You don’t answer.

You just walk over and stand next to him.

“Tired?” he says, softer now.

You nod.

Then, without asking, you lean sideways into him, pressing your weight against his shoulder.

He exhales quietly but doesn’t move you.

“Give me ten minutes,” he says. “Let me finish this bit.”

You nod again.

You have no intention of giving him ten minutes.

Two minutes later, you’re worse.

You slide your arms around his shoulders from behind, resting your cheek against the top of his head.

He pauses his editing for a second.

“You said you’d behave.”

“I am behaving,” you mumble, eyes already half closed.

“This isn’t behaving.”

“This is.”

He huffs slightly, but his hand comes up to hold your arm where it’s draped over him.

You stay like that for a minute before slowly shifting.

“Alfie…”

“Hmm?”

“I’m tired.”

“I can tell.”

You move around the chair and, without warning, climb straight into his lap

“You’re joking.”

You shake your head, already settling into him like it’s the most natural thing in the world.

“Just for a minute.”

“You said that last time.”

“And?”

“And I didn’t get anything done.”

You tuck your face into his neck, arms loosely around him.

“You don’t need to.”

“I do.”

You don’t respond.

You’re already half asleep.

He tries.

He genuinely tries.

One hand on the mouse, the other loosely around your back to stop you slipping.

But every time you shift, you nuzzle closer. Every time he moves, you follow.

At one point you press a soft, sleepy kiss against his jaw.

He stops completely.

“You’re making this very difficult,” he mutters.

You hum quietly, barely awake.

Another small kiss. This time just under his ear.

He pulls his headphones off.

“Right,” he says.

The laptop shuts.

You barely react.

“Done?” you mumble.

“Yeah. I’m done.”

“With editing?”

“With pretending I’m going to finish anything while you’re like this.”

He adjusts you properly in his lap, one arm wrapping securely around your back, the other hand coming up to brush your hair away from your face.

“You’re clingy,” he murmurs.

“So are you,” you whisper back.

“Not like this.”

You smile faintly and press a soft kiss to his lips, slow and tired.

He kisses you back without hesitation this time.

When he pulls back, his forehead rests against yours.

“Go to sleep,” he says quietly.

“Stay here.”

“I’m not moving.”

And he doesn’t.

He just sits there with you in his lap, holding you close, occasionally pressing small kisses to your hair, your temple, your cheek

Until your breathing evens out and you’re fully asleep against him.

The laptop stays shut.

The video can wait.

You’re sitting on the floor of Alfie’s room while he’s filming.

Well… technically you’re supposed to just be quietly existing while he records something for a video.

That was the agreement.

You brought a book, a blanket, and the intention of behaving.

Alfie, however, keeps looking over at you every five seconds.

“Stop staring at me,” you mumble without looking up.

“I’m not staring.”

“You literally are.”

You glance up at him.

He’s leaning back in his chair, camera still rolling, trying to keep a straight face while pretending to explain something to the audience.

“Anyway” he continues to the camera, “as I was sayin

Then he looks back at you again.

You raise an eyebrow.

He loses it.

“Right,” he sighs, rubbing his face. “Hold on.”

He reaches forward and pauses the recording.

“What?” you ask.

“You’re distracting.”

“You told me to sit there.”

“Yeah but you’re doing it… wrong.”

You stare at him. “I’m reading.”

“Exactly.”

“That’s not a crime.”

“It should be.”

You roll your eyes and go back to your book.

Two seconds later he gets up from his chair and walks over.

“What are you doing?” you ask.

He doesn’t answer.

He just drops down onto the floor next to you, immediately leaning sideways so his head lands in your lap.

You blink down at him.

“Alfie.”

“Yeah?”

“You were filming.”

“Yeah.”

“Your camera’s still on.”

He shrugs slightly.

“They’ll survive.”

Your fingers hover awkwardly above his hair before instinct takes over and you start absentmindedly running them through it.

“You’re ridiculous,” you mumble.

“You came to my house.”

“You told me to.”

“Exactly.”

You keep playing with his hair while he lays there like he’s got nowhere else to be.

After a minute he cracks one eye open.

“You know the camera can see this.”

You glance up.

Sure enough, it absolutely can.

“Great,” you say flatly.

He grins.

“People will love it.”

“People will think you’re clingy.”

“I am clingy.”

You laugh softly.

His hand comes up to grab yours, guiding it back to his hair when you stop.

“Don’t stop.”

“You’re needy.”

“I’ve accepted that.”

You shake your head, but you keep playing with his hair anyway.

Eventually he sighs again, completely relaxed now.

“You know,” he says lazily, “I had a whole video planned.”

“And?”

“And now I’m on the floor.”

“Sounds like a you problem.”

He looks up at you, smiling slightly.

“Worth it though.”

Then he shifts suddenly, pushing himself up just enough so he’s level with you. Before you can even react, his hand comes up to your cheek and he leans in, pressing a quick kiss to your lips.

You blink at him.

“Alfie.”

“Yeah?”

“The camera.”

He glances over at it for half a second.

“Oh yeah.”

You stare at him. “You just kissed me on camera.”

“And?”

He grins slightly, clearly not concerned in the slightest.

“Right,” he says, reaching over and pressing record again.

Then he looks straight into the lens.

“Well… the video’s changed direction slightly.”

You laugh, shaking your head.

He just leans back against you again, arm wrapping loosely around your waist this time.

And honestly?

Warning: smut. Oral. Him giving. 18+

I don’t usually do smut but I thought I’d get out my comfort zone.

Thank you for my first request in awhile, this was so cute to write and I hope you enjoy this Anon.

Requests are open so please feel free to ask!!!!

You don’t expect him to look nervous.

Excited, maybe. Tired. Jet-lagged. A bit smug about being back from America.

But not nervous.

You’re standing near arrivals, scrolling on your phone, when you hear your name.

You look up.

And there he is.

Hood up, travel bag slung over one shoulder, eyes scanning until they land on you.

He doesn’t wave. Doesn’t shout. Doesn’t do the cool walk-up.

He just drops his bag and pulls you into him properly.

Arms tight around your waist. Face buried in your neck. No space between you at all.

“You’re squeezing me,” you laugh softly.

“Yeah,” he mutters into your hair. “Stay there.”

He holds you longer than usual. Longer than is normal. His fingers grip the back of your hoodie like if he loosens them, you might disappear again.

When he finally pulls back, his hands don’t leave you.

He looks at your face like he’s checking you’re real.

“Hi,” you say.

“Hi,” he replies, quieter than you expected.

“Miss me?”

He exhales through his nose, trying to shrug it off. “America’s loud.”

“That’s not what I asked.”

He stares at you for a second longer.

“Yeah,” he says simply. “I did.”

The clinginess starts immediately.

In the car, his hand rests on your thigh the entire ride. Thumb moving absentmindedly like he needs contact.

If you shift, he adjusts with you.

If you move his hand, it finds its way back.

“You’ve been back ten minutes,” you tease.

“I’ve been gone weeks,” he replies. “Let me live.”

When you get inside, he doesn’t even take his shoes off properly before he’s wrapping his arms around you again from behind.

You’re trying to make tea.

He’s attached to your waist.

“You can sit down,” you tell him.

“No.”

“You’re jet-lagged.”

“Don’t care.”

His chin rests on your shoulder. His hands slide under your hoodie just enough to feel your skin, warm and grounding.

You turn slightly to look at him. His eyes are half-lidded, tired but calm.

“You okay?” you ask.

He nods against you.

“Just missed you.”

You try to walk to the living room.

He follows.

You sit down.

He sits right next to you.

When you shift to grab the remote, he pulls you back by the wrist gently.

“Where are you going?”

“I’m still here.”

“Yeah. Sit properly.”

“Properly?”

“With me.”

So you sit. And he immediately drags you into his lap like that’s the obvious solution.

“You’re heavy,” you say.

“Rude.”

But his arms tighten around you anyway.

His face presses into your neck again. He inhales like he’s memorising your scent.

“You didn’t FaceTime enough,” he mumbles.

“You were out every night.”

“Yeah, but it’s not the same.”

He hated sleeping alone.

He hated waking up and not reaching for you.

He hated that weird time difference where you were living your day and he was finishing his.

The entire day goes like that.

You try to go to the bathroom he waits outside the door.

You try to tidy something he follows you room to room.

At one point you stop in the hallway and turn around, almost colliding into him.

“Why are you actually glued to me?”

He looks down at you like it’s obvious.

“Because I’ve been in a different country.”

“For a few weeks.”

“Exactly.”

You roll your eyes, but you can’t stop smiling.

Later, when you’re both lying on the sofa, he pulls you so close you can barely move.

“You’re suffocating me.”

“No I’m not.”

“You are.”

“Good.”

You laugh, but his arms don’t loosen.

Your fingers drift into his hair and he melts instantly. Actually melts. His breathing slows. His grip softens but doesn’t leave.

“You’re not going anywhere tomorrow, are you?” he asks quietly.

“I live here.”

“Yeah, but like… anywhere.”

You tilt your head. “Are you scared I’m going to America now?”

He huffs lightly, but there’s something real underneath it.

“I just don’t like being away from you.”

Just presses his forehead against your collarbone and tightens his arms again.

You wrap yourself around him properly this time.

“I’m not going anywhere,” you tell him.

He nods slightly.

“Good.”

And even hours later, when you’re getting into bed, he pulls you close again leg tangled with yours, arm draped across your waist, fingers laced with yours under the blanket.

Usually he shifts away after a bit.

Tonight he doesn’t.

If you move even slightly, his grip tightens instinctively.

You whisper, “You’re clingy.”

He murmurs sleepily, “Shut up.”

But he presses a kiss to your shoulder.

You and Alfie swear you’ll behave.

It’s filmed on the set of The Fellas podcast bright lights, big table, mics clipped on, cameras close enough to catch every tiny reaction. Across from you sit Calfreezy and Chip, both already suspicious before the episode’s even started.

“Professional,” Alfie says quietly before the cameras roll, giving you a pointed look.

“Obviously,” you reply.

You’re lying. Both of you.

The intro starts. Freezy’s in full host mode. Chip’s relaxed, leaning back, ready to stir something up if needed.

Alfie’s knee presses against yours under the table almost immediately.

You don’t move it.

He doesn’t either.

He’s nodding along to whatever Freezy’s saying, pretending he’s focused, but his fingers hover dangerously close to your thigh. Not touching. Just resting there like he’s testing his own self-control.

You shift slightly closer.

His jaw tightens.

“Don’t,” he mutters without turning his head.

“I’m not doing anything,” you whisper back.

Chip pauses mid-sentence. “Why do you two look guilty already?”

“We don’t,” Alfie says too quickly.

Freezy squints at you both. “It’s been thirty seconds.”

You sit up straighter, innocent expression locked in. Alfie clears his throat and forces himself to focus.

It lasts about two minutes.

You laugh at something and grab his arm instinctively. Your fingers linger. His hand comes up automatically to cover yours, thumb brushing lightly over your knuckles before he even realises what he’s doing.

Freezy leans back in his chair slowly. “Brother.”

You both separate like you’ve been caught passing notes in class.

“Carry on,” Alfie mutters, trying to look normal.

He answers the next question wrong. Completely wrong. Chip bursts out laughing.

“You’re not listening at all,” Chip says, pointing at him. “What’s going on?”

“Nothing,” Alfie replies, but his voice is rougher now.

Midway through the episode, you lean in to whisper something harmless genuinely harmless but your lips hover just a little too close to his ear. His hand slides to your waist instinctively, fingers pressing in slightly like he needs grounding.

He inhales sharply.

“Behave,” he murmurs, low enough only you can hear.

“You behave,” you reply.

Freezy stops talking. Just stares at you both.

“There is insane tension right now,” he says flatly.

“There isn’t,” Alfie insists.

There absolutely is.

Under the table, your thigh brushes his again this time deliberate. His hand grips your knee lightly, steady but firm.

“If you don’t stop,” he mutters quietly, eyes flicking to you, “I’m actually going to lose focus.”

“You already have.”

Chip leans forward. “Why do I feel like we shouldn’t be here?”

Freezy shakes his head. “I’m separating you next time.”

You both try to behave after that. You genuinely try. Sitting upright. Hands to yourselves. Looking forward.

But every time you laugh, you lean into him. Every time he shifts, his shoulder brushes yours. Every time there’s a pause in conversation, his fingers drift back to your waist like they belong there.

By the time Freezy finally says, “Right, that’s a wrap,” the tension is ridiculous.

Cameras click off.

The room relaxes.

Alfie stands and pulls you up with him without thinking. His hands settle on your waist immediately, like he’s been holding back the entire time.

“You’re impossible,” he says quietly, a faint smile tugging at his mouth.

“You didn’t move away,” you reply.

He steps closer, lowering his voice so only you hear.

“I didn’t want to.”

In the background, Freezy groans. “I’m banning couples.”

Chip laughs. “Next episode, opposite ends of the table.”

It wouldn’t matter.