#plssendmoreasks!!

Another Soccer Saturday video meant only that Alfie could get pissed and call it work. This time, the group had migrated to Manchester, since Haaland had scored a screamer not two minutes after kick-off.

There were the usual jokes and games, pints and pouches of snus after he'd caved and accepted one from a fan. Peer pressure would be his end, he could see it now. But hadn't it always been like that?

Even before he was built like a brick shithouse and found a trim that didn't make him look like a complete melt. He hadn't been thinking much of before, or after, until he cast his eyes over the bar the group currently occupied. He was up at the bar, the rest of the lads back at the table with Chris. They settled on you and widened in an instant.

His feet moved before he could think to let you enjoy your night, the five pints he'd already had certainly not helping his intention not to interrupt.

"Reader," he huffed. "Funny seein' you 'ere."

Swiveling, you were faced with a wall of chest muscles, heavy cologne and YoungLA merch. Pulling your eyes up, you could only stare at him for a moment.

"...Alfie?" You could scarcely scrape your jaw off the floor.

"Mhm," he smirked, nodding. "How you been, girl?"

Your brows furrowed slightly as you watched him lean agaisnt the bar. "Uh... fine. Why..?"

"Why?" he laughed. "Fuckin' hell, just asking."

A scoff left you, eyes roving his face for any glimpse of that smugness he'd bore in sixth form, for the teasing glint that would appear as he'd sauntered up to your table and nicked the chicken off your plate, or stole your tie in the corridor, or kicked your foot under the table during geography.

"What you doin' in Manny?" the words snapped you back to the present and you blinked. "Um, sister's hen do."

"She's getting married?"

"Yep."

"Am I invited?"

"The fuck would you be invited?"

"Worth a try," he shrugged. Then he dragged his eyes down you. Slowly. As if not to waste a second, to soak in all of you. Your little skirt, your pink corset, the bow in your hair.

"Don't say anything," you said quickly. "It's a themed party."

"Wasn't gonna say owt. You look good, though."

"Mm," your eyes narrowed a little, naturally. At school, you were a far cry from pretty, but not quite ugly. Just.. you, whatever that meant. To him, it seemed you were a target. At least, when he was around his mates, who always seemed to change him in some way; away from them, he never pinched your arms or flicked your ears, or laughed at your expressions, he was just Alfie.

But with them? It was like Mr Hyde had come out and Dr Jekyll was tucked away.

You'd been cursed with a shit seating plan in the last year of GCSE geography—being well-behaved and getting good grades apparently meant to your teacher that you should be tormented endlessly. She put you on a table with him and Alex, the worst of his mates.

Learning about longshore drift was a death sentence, constantly on the receiving end of countless jokes, either entirely unfunny or bordering on sexual harrassment: "I've got a groin you can check out, girl,"

"It's a groyne, you twat," you'd scoffed at Alex, while Alfie just laughed.

But while he wouldn't stand up to you against his mates, he'd happily invite himself over to yours for study sessions and actually try to learn, to your surprise. He rocked up on a skateboard one day and the session turned quickly from learning about tectonic plates to how to ride. He'd held your arm and walked alongside you, chuckling at your squeals each time he tried to ease off even slightly. The cunt.

"You good?" he hummed, when a rowdy group of boys shoved passed you, heading for the toilets, likely to snort a couple lines or pop a few pills, knocking you forward until you collided with him.

His large hand came to rest on your waist and he smiled softly.

"Sorry," you muttered, shaking your head softly.

"S'alright," he was still smiling, a little wider, his lips parting and his fangs on show. "Come on."

Before you could protest, he was guiding you outside, one palm hovering just a few inches from the small of your back, watching as you pulled out a pink vape. "Cute," he hummed, earning a side-eye.

"What are you doing here?" you hummed, pulling it away from your lips.

"Just filming."

"Eh?"

"YouTube," he said, and watched your face go a little funny. "You didn't know?"

"Know what?"

"Jesus-fuck, do you live under a bridge, girl?" he laughed. "I'm in the big leagues now."

"Sure you are," you mused, rolling your eyes.

He huffed a breath, pulling out his phone and opening up YouTube to show you his channel, "I am, actually, thank you very much."

"Well.. good for you," you gave a shrug and watched him laugh as you took another few pulls on your vape. Your eyes darted over him for a moment, skimming the figure he had filled out nicely. He mentioned it once or twice, that he didn't want to be a 'skinny little gimp' anymore, and was going to the gym, but you never thought he'd end up looking like.. this.

Taking a small step forward, he tilted his head and plucked the vape out of your hand. "This is bad for you."

"I'm aware," you scoffed, reaching up to snatch it back.

"Ah-ah," he laughed. "Y'gotta earn it, girl."

"Fuck off, it's my vape."

"Yeah, and if you want it back... you gotta give me a kiss."

"Piss off." He took a few steps back until he was on the curb, holding it over a drain. Eyes wide, you lunged forward and grasped his wrist, "Don't you fucking dare."

"Just one.. s'all you gotta do."

"This is coercion." He only laughed at that, earning an eye-roll and a whine, "Oh my God, you are such a dick."

Then you were reaching up for his shoulders to pull him down toward you, pressing your lips onto his. Taking in a breath, his lips curved up against yours, but as you moved to pull back, he cupped his free hand at the nape of your neck and held you against him, flicking his tongue between your lips until they parted slowly.

Your face was on fire, and your stomach might just have exploded when you moaned softly into the kiss, but you didn't care much anymore, your fresh set sinking into the his shoulder and neck as you kissed him back as if to prove you still hated him.

When he finally pulled away with a rough breath, you gave his chest a little shove and watched him wobble on the curb, giggling as you snatched your vape back and turned around.

"Oi! Girl!" he called after you, reaching up to scratch at his mullet. "You still got the same number?"

You laughed softly, turning to look over your shoulder at him as you flipped him off.

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AN: hii anon, i hope you like this🫶🏻 i took a few creative liberties in making him a bit less of a cunt so i hope thats okay!!!!