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📍pretty girl avenue

[abficlibrary]

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dee. 21. long time watcher, new writer. she/her. northern gal. recently ab obsessed. requests closed and inbox open. send ideas. love you. est 5th oct 2025.

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[abficlibrary]

thank you to the people validating me for how funny this comment is on minnie's new hunger games post

[cryingwithgigi]

˖ . ݁𝜗𝜚 hard launch ~ alfie buttle 𝜗𝜚. ݁₊

content - established relationship, fluff, smau

notes - had this is the drafts for a while but was too scared to post

wc - 1,900

You and Alfie had been dating for just over a year - a relationship built quietly in the gaps between public lives. Long enough that loving him felt natural.

You met through mutual friends, one of those accidental introductions that somehow turned into everything. At first, keeping things private had been easy. Social media had a way of turning soft, personal things into entertainment for strangers, and neither of you wanted that. So the relationship existed mostly off-camera - tucked into late-night takeaways, weekends hidden up North, quiet airport pickups, hoodies borrowed and never returned.

Friends and family knew. The people who mattered knew.

But the internet was observant in ways that bordered on frightening.

People started connecting dots months ago. Alfie appearing in someone's vlog in the background of a party, your laugh faintly audible somewhere off camera. TikToks where you were sitting suspiciously close together. The same kitchen appearing behind behind separate Instagram stories posted minutes apart. Fans noticed when you both disappeared from London at the same time, and somehow, you always seemed to be 'visiting friends' near the Grotto whenever Alfie was there.

Now the date of the Sidemen Charity Match was rolling around, and with every passing day, Alfie became more and more excited about it. Training clips played constantly on the TV. Group chats buzzed non-stop. You found it adorable.

He wanted you there, along with his family and friends. And that meant cameras - cameras you couldn't control. Thousands of people in the crowd. Content creators filming every second backstage.

The closer the match got, the more impossible privacy started to feel.

One evening, rain tapped softly against the windows of the London flat while the two of you sat tangled together on the couch. The room glowed warm from the lamp in the corner, Alfie stretched out beside you in joggers and hoodie, one arm lazily slung around your waist while some football highlights played ignored on the TV.

Or rather, he ignored them. For once, he seemed distracted.

You felt him glance at you before he spoke.

"So..." he started carefully, his thumb brushing absentminded circles against your side. "About the match."

You looked up from your phone immediately, already smiling. "Oh, you mean the only thing you've talked about for the last week?"

"That's harsh."

"It's true."

He grinned at that, nose scrunching slightly before he tipped his head back dramatically against the sofa.

"Sorry for being passionate about my athletic career."

You snorted. "Athletic career? Alfie, you got out of breath carrying shopping upstairs yesterday."

"Yeah, well," he said, pointing at you lazily, "different skillset."

You laughed quietly, settling further against him, and for a second he smiled too, easy and familiar, before that thoughtful look crept back in.

His fingers drummed lightly against your hip.

"So, seriously," he said after a moment, voice softer now. "I've been thinking."

"That's dangerous."

"Oi- shut up."

You grinned into your drink while he rolled his eyes, though there was a faint smile tugging at his mouth.

Then he looked at you properly.

"Maybe we just make it official now."

Your brows lifted slightly. "Official?"

"Yeah." He shrugged, trying to play it casual, but you could tell he'd been sitting on this thought for a while. "People already basically know anyway. Every comment section's like fucking FBI headquarters."

"That's because you're subtle as a brick."

"I am subtle."

"You posted a photo of your dinner and my reflection was in the toaster."

"That," he pointed firmly, "was not my fault."

You laughed, and Alfie's smile widened for a second before he leaned closer, lowering his voice like he was confessing something ridiculous.

"Nah," he murmured, lips twitching, "I just want people to know I bagged an absolute fucking rocket."

You blinked at him once before a laugh escaped you, warm and uncontrollable.

"Alfie."

"What?" he said innocently, though he already looked pleased with himself. "I'm being serious."

"You're unbelievable."

"No, you're unbelievable," he corrected immediately, squeezing your waist. "Look at you."

You shook your head, trying to hide your smile as heat crept into your cheeks. He noticed instantly, grin turning smug. "There she is," he teased softly. "Knew that'd get you."

𝜗𝜚

The atmosphere inside the stadium was electric long before the match had even started.

Music blasted through the speakers, loud enough to vibrate through the seats, cameras sweeping across the crowds while thousands of people filtered into the stands in football shirts and creator merch. Everywhere you looked there were signs, phones, people shouting names across rows the second they spotted someone they recognised.

It was chaos.

Very Sidemen chaos.

You sat beside Livvy in the family-and-friends section, legs crossed comfortably as you scrolled through messages on your phone while the players warmed up below. The oversized Sidemen FC shirt you wore swallowed your frame slightly, sleeves resting just above your elbows.

AB 23 - in bold lettering across the back.

Subtly had clearly gone out the window.

You spotted Alfie near the sideline almost immediately, mid-conversation with a few of the boys, bouncing lightly on his feet with that endless energy he always seemed to have before anything competitive. Even from here you could tell he was buzzing.

Warm-ups were well underway now, players spread across the grass in small groups while coaches and organisers moved around them. Even from the stands, there was a visible difference between those who approached the game like a bit of fun, and those who had convinced themselves they were about to play in the Champions League Final.

Alfie was somewhere in the middle.

He was moving constantly, jogging a few paces before stopping, adjusting something, turning to say something to one of the others before bouncing straight back into whatever he had been doing before. Every gesture seemed slightly bigger than necessary, every reaction slightly more animated, the excitement radiating from him even at a distance.

As though he could feel himself being watched, Alfie looked up from the pitch. His gaze travelled across the stands, scanning rows of faces before finding the section where his family and friends were sitting.

The moment he spotted you, his expression changed. His whole face softened, like someone had turned down the stadium noise just for him. The grin that tugged at his mouth wasn't the big chaotic one he used for cameras or teammates - it was the smaller one, reserved for you. 

There was something strangely intimate about being recognised in a crowd that large. About being seen by someone who knew you, really knew you, in a place where you were supposed to blend into thousands. 

Alfie held your gaze for a second longer than necessary, the corner of his mouth lifting just a little higher when he noticed the shirt you were wearing. His shirt. His number.

Then one of the boys shouted something at him, and he tore his eyes away reluctantly, shaking his head with a smile that hadn’t been there a minute ago.

𝜗𝜚

The players' lounge afterwards was loud in that messy, exhausted sort of way that only came after events like this.

Music played somewhere too loud in the background, people drifted between conversations still half in kit, half changed, medals hanging crooked around necks while cameras continued catching snippets of everything. The adrenaline of the match still lingered in the air - everyone talking over each other, replaying moments, laughing about missed chances and near disasters.

Everyone seemed in ridiculously good spirits despite the result.

Mostly because the match itself had been unreal.

And because Alfie had scored an absolute screamer.

You'd watched it happen from the stands in genuine disbelief - the ball hitting the back of the net before the entire stadium erupted around you. Alfie sprinting across the pitch afterwards absolutely losing his mind while his teammates jumped on him.

You were pretty sure Livvy had nearly ruptured your eardrum screaming beside you.

Now every few minutes someone nearby was still replaying the goal on their phone.

"Look at this finish again," his brother said for about the tenth time, shoving the screen toward the table. "Actually disgusting."

His mum laughed warmly beside you. "He's going to be insufferable for weeks."

"He already is," you said immediately.

"Correct," his dad agreed.

Before anyone could continue, a sudden burst of noise came from across the lounge.

You looked up just in time to see Alfie walking in with a few of the boys, still riding the high of the match completely. His hair was damp from a shower, medal hanging around his neck over a black t-shirt, and despite the exhaustion written across his face, he looked happier than you'd seen him in ages.

Buzzing was honestly an understatement.

He was mid-story when he spotted your table. Mid-sentence, he broke off entirely.

You barely had time to smile before he made his way over, weaving through people quickly, still grinning like an idiot.

The second he reached the table, he leaned down automatically, one hand bracing against the back of your chair while he kissed you quickly - easy, instinctive, like he hadn't spent the last year trying not to do things like that publicly. There was no hesitation, no flicker of doubt. Just him choosing you without thinking, like muscle memory.

The conversation around the table paused for approximately half a second.

Then his brother made a dramatic gagging noise.

"Right, okay, enough."

Alfie didn't even look away from you. "Jealous?"

"Deeply."

You laughed quietly as Alfie finally pulled away properly, though he stayed close enough that his hand settled immediately against the back of your neck for a second - warm and grounding, thumb brushing once against your skin like he needed the reassurance that you were really there.

Up close, you could practically feel the energy radiating off him.

"You alright?" you asked softly, smiling.

"Am I alright?" He looked genuinely offended by the question. "Did you not witness the greatest goal Wembley's ever seen?"

His dad snorted into his drink. "You lost."

"Details," Alfie dismissed instantly, waving a hand.

He stayed stood beside you, too full of adrenaline to sit still properly, one hand drumming against the back of your chair while he waffled on about moments from the game, how he felt during the warm up, the sitter he missed in the first half.

There was something nice about hearing him talk like this when the cameras weren't shoved in his face.

No exaggerated reactions for content. No playing things up. Just real excitement.

Eventually Alfie finally dropped down into the seat beside you properly, still buzzing enough that his knee bounced relentlessly against yours. He didn’t even try to stop it - if anything, he shifted closer, thigh pressed against yours like he needed the contact to bleed off the leftover adrenaline.

"I'm proud of you," you told him quietly when he had settled down and stopped bouncing around like an over-excited puppy.

The words seemed to hit him harder than all the shouting and hype from earlier had.

His expression softened instantly. His knee stilled. 

For a second, despite all the noise around you, all his attention narrowed entirely onto you.

Then, because he was still Alfie, the softness lasted approximately two seconds before he grinned again.

"And I scored in front of my girlfriend wearing my name on her back," he added smugly. "Movie."

𝜗𝜚

yourusername

liked by alfiebuttle and 142,946 others

yourusername: a good day to wear number 23

alfiebuttle: yeh i bagged two rockets today, no biggy

livvydimartino: s(wag)gyyy 

glambyflo: gorgeous girl 

sabinablair_- my babiesss

theburntchip: he hasn't shut up about this since 

cryingwithgigi, 2026 © all rights reserved to me.

[buttlesbunnie]

literally just whipped this up but here’s the edit for alfie’s games ☺️💗

[buttlesbunnie]

ALFIE BUTTLE HUNGER GAMES AU ! ౨ৎ ⋆｡˚

district two x district eleven , 31st annual hunger games , can’t catch me now — olivia rodrigo , them

( content warnings : child death/exploitation , grief , parental sickness , parental death , taking on a maternal role , literary gore & injury description , angst (w/ comfort) , swearing , cursed lovers , main character death , violence and anything else discussed across the hunger games series )

( minnie speaks : alfie’s story is second to be told! i a, VERY excited for this series, i feel very passionately about it and it’s defo my fav out of the three that i have )

( taglist (ask to join!) : @sweetlikedeer @georgesclarkey @lostdeerinthemist @l3nney @gerardswhore @h5nn5ah @arthursartour @abficlibrary @finchytv @kat-w2s8 @saskiaskeetz @blackbeautyiloveyouso )

chapters ౨ৎ ⋆｡˚

episode one ( coming soon ! )

[buttlesbunnie]

THE TRUTH ── a.frederick ౨ৎ ⋆｡˚

summary: returning back to normal will be hard, but living with the truth makes it a little easier

content: mentions of death and violence , minor injury description , angst w/ comfort

notes: and this is the final chapter regarding arthur’s hunger games!! we’ve finally tied it off after a month and three quarters. i’m shockingly proud at how quickly i got this done, and i’m hoping that i can finish alfie’s and george’s in that amount of time too because i really wanna get around to my other au’s before the end of the year LOL but thank you to everyone who stuck around for this series! you mean the world to me <3

wc: 2,879

taglist: @sweetlikedeer @georgesclarkey @lostdeerinthemist @l3nney @gerardswhore @h5nn5ah @arthursartour @abficlibrary @finchytv @kat-w2s8 @saskiaskeetz @blackbeautyiloveyouso

WAKING UP AFTER becoming a victor had to be one of the worst experiences of your life, and you’d just been through hell and back. Since your body had had time to decompress, when you finally started using it again, every muscle hurt like hell and felt like you were carrying ten extra pounds with everything.

On top of that, you were pretty sure you were losing your mind.

When you had opened your eyes for the first time after being escorted out of the arena, you realised that you had been completely hosed down. All of the dirt and grime was no longer embedded in your hair and under your nails. Any nasty spots that had raised on your face had disappeared, and the underlying stench of sweat and earth that you’d actually gotten used to, had vanished.

But worst of all, the last remaining thing you had of Arthur had gone too.

His blood, the one that was staining your hands the last time you remember being awake, had been completely stolen from you, scrubbed out of the creases in your hands and rinsed out of the clumpy knots in your hair.

All of it was gone.

You don’t remember exactly what happened when you found out, but you remember Tigris being there, her face one of sympathy and care before you blacked out again, and when you awoke, your throat was raw and scratchy partnered with your eyes being slightly puffy and irritated.

“Hey, shh, shh.” She hushed you as you rose for the second time.

“Tigris?” You croaked, turning your head on the pillow to look at her.

“Yeah, everything’s okay. You’re back in the Capitol now.”

“D-Did they bring Arthur?” It hurt like hell to speak, but you just had to know, “I asked them to. T-They could fix him.”

“No, my darling, they didn’t.” She shook her head, stroking her long, bony fingers through your hair, “I’m so sorry.”

Your face screwed up into an expression that you were sure reeked of agony, with your eyebrows knotted firm in the middle of your face and your nose all crinkled as tears sprouted and spilled.

“I know, I know.” She whispered, nodding.

A sharp breath of air was sucked in, causing you to choke on your own tears.

“Here, here, let’s sit up.” She started adjusting the bed you were lying back in, setting up some pillows against the headboard and helping you into a sitting position. “I’ll go and get Claudia, okay? She’s better at this.”

The time you were alone was short, but the silence really got to you, and in that soundless room, noises started coming back to you. Arthur’s words (his last ones, to be exact) and the gruesome spurts of his blood pooling out of his mouth.

Claudia walked into the room, replacing Tigris, and that’s when your dam broke.

“Okay, okay.” She breathed, sitting on the edge of your bed and bringing you into her arms, tucking your head into her chest.

“It’s not fair.” You wailed.

Everything hurt, but that was the last thing on your mind right now.

The weak feeling of your ribs was miniscule compared to the tempest storming in your head, creating this awful banging against the inside of your skull.

Your hand came up, weakly clutching onto the wrist of the arm that curled under your chin with her hand splayed across your cheek, keeping you close.

“They killed him, Claudia! They took him from me!”

She frowned, pulling your face away from her chest and cupping it in her hands and staring at you.

“What?”

“I couldn’t save him!”

“You tried to save him?”

“Yes!”

Again, she pulled you back in, a little more frantically this time as her hands scrambled for your limbs, keeping you close to her.

She knew what was going to come of this.

Propaganda. A false narrative. Throwing the starving Capitol citizens a story that never even took place.

“I just want him back.” You croaked weakly, losing your grip on Claudia’s wrist and dropping your hands to your lap.

“I know. I know.” She nodded.

She didn’t.

In fact, she didn’t even know that you felt any remorse over his death whatsoever, because that’s not what had been relayed back to the viewers.

“You have your final interview with Lucky in two hours, and then you get crowned, and then you have to do your District Tour, okay?” She explained softly, her fingers still gliding through your hair in a way that made you feel five again, and curled up in your mothers lap.

Tigris appeared back in the room then, face full of sympathy.

“What happened in that arena?”

“What?” You sniffled.

“When Arthur died. What happened?”

“A tiger came after us? I-I don’t know what you mean.”

“The gamemakers manipulated your games, Reader.” Claudia sighed, rubbing the space between her brows, “The power shut off for a minute, and when they turned back on, you’d won.”

Your breath caught in your throat, and what followed was a sensation that you could only describe as someone reaching into your oesophagus and stealing the air from it.

“But I— I didn’t kill him.” You gasped out, “I promise I didn’t, I would never— I tried to save him.”

Tigris and Claudia shared a look.

“Well that’s not what everyone in Panem thinks.”

“Oh, his family. Oh no, his family thinks I killed him— I didn’t, I swear I didn’t.”

“We believe you, but I think …” Claudia sighed, “I think for the safety of you and your own family, you have to run with that narrative. You go out there in that interview, and you puff your chest out and you act like you don’t care.”

After a few more minutes of pep talking and planning, Tigris whisked more stylists into the room to begin readying you for the interview.

You hated Lucky Flickerman enough based on your first meeting with him, so you expected that you’d walk out of this one wishing you could wring his neck out with your bare hands.

The interview was a dramatic avalanche of brightly flashing lights, empty laughter and beaming smiles.

Your outfit was nowhere near as representative as your original one, instead wearing something white and flowy.

It felt like a statement, like the designers had tried to preserve your innocence and turn you into something you weren’t, which was funny, because you didn’t think your games were that bad.

You knew you had an absurd amount of blood on your hands, but they were just strangers to you.

Nobodies.

And the blood that mattered wasn’t even real.

Arthur’s death wasn’t your fault.

Right?

After you’d breezed through the interview, Tigris had helped you strip out of your dress, which looked somewhat basic to the eye, but was full of numerous hidden little details that made it feel like a rope trap to get in and out of.

Sat on your pyjamas on the edge of your bed, you stared down at your lap, thinking over the questions you’d firmed with nothing but a mere nod and a smile or a sentence full of lies.

You’d bluffed your entire way through those thirty minutes, and the crown you received at the end didn’t even feel remotely worth it.

It sat on your chest of drawers in your bedroom on the train, and you probably weren’t going to pick it up or wear it again now.

You didn’t feel worthy.

“Reader.” Tigris spoke up.

You hummed, glancing at her.

Her fingers stretched out, unravelling to reveal something hidden.

It was small, like a chip of some sorts, and it fell into your palm.

“What is it?”

“The truth.”

She dispersed from your room as if she hadn’t just dropped a very ominous and vague line, leaving you to your own devices.

There was a TV on the wall across from your bed, and you fancied your chances that this chip held some game footage that might’ve been lost and buried amongst the lies and brainwashing.

You were right.

Rewatching Arthur’s death and the gruesome manner in which it had played out had tears streaming down your face and hiccups catching in your chest.

From this angle, it was worse.

There was no shot of your faces, but the futile desperation was evident as you continued to strain to heave his body up, despite the odds stacked against you.

This was reality, not whatever chopped up version the gamemakers had sold the Capitol.

You tried not to dwell on it, you really did, because you were going to be speaking for the majority of the day tomorrow, and you needed the energy to deal with people.

There was no doubt in your body that the people from districts Eleven and Twelve would start an outcry at the mere sight of you in their area, and you didn’t want to be running on a couple of hours of sleep in the case of that happening.

The first three visits to the districts felt easy.

They weren’t hard on you, nor did they really care that their fellow members were dead.

Being back home felt somewhat nice, but all of that was drained away when all your dad had to say to you was ‘Congratulations’. Nevermind an ‘I’m here for you’ or ‘I’m proud of you’. Just a nonchalant nod paired with one word that meant nothing in the grand scheme of things.

Thankfully, your brother was a lot more happy to see you.

He hugged you tighter than ever, and you would’ve complained about the way his uniform dug against your ribcage painfully, but there was no need, because this was all you ever needed and or wanted.

You blinked the tears away that gathered in your eyes, refusing to let your family see another moment more of weakness from you.

The reunion between them was brief, and you wished you had more time to sit with your brother and just talk, but things needed to be done.

You should’ve expected cold indifference from One and Two, because any death was a failure in their books, however the reactions from District Three shocked you.

They seemed bored, like they knew your speech was a scripted mess of false representation that neither you or your team really believed in.

You supposed they were kind of used to losing their own members given that they weren’t a career group, but you still expected a bit of emotion from them.

District Four was different.

It was worse.

Your gaze didn’t soften around Cove, no matter how sorrowful you felt for her people.

She had still killed your brother, and you still wanted to take her next.

However, throughout your practiced speech, you found your gaze naturally dragging back to the large family standing across the courtyard.

You couldn’t make out their faces from so far, but Arthur’s was being projected behind them, and the sight of him, fresh and untainted and alive made you want to break down then and there.

Inside the District Four town hall, you requested something you weren’t sure was going to be permitted.

“I’d like to speak to Arthur’s family.” You swallowed thickly, “In private.”

You expected anger, of course you did, but you didn’t expect it to manifest itself physically.

You were on the receiving end of an outraged slap from his mother, one that you took gracefully without any concern or order for punishment.

In fact, you stopped the peacekeepers when they tried to intervene.

“You killed my boy!” She screamed at you, “After everything he did for you?!”

One of the men in white uniform equipped a baton, getting ready to strike.

“Stop!” You snapped, standing in front of his family, “You gonna hurt a new victor? Not sure how the Capitol will respond to that.”

He faltered before sheathing his weapon again.

You rolled your eyes at him as he saw himself out, and turned to face his family.

Wordlessly, you held out your palm.

Within it was the chip that Tigris had slipped your way just hours before.

“What’s this?” Arthur’s mother spat.

“… What happened during the ‘power cut’.” You muttered.

As his family was forced to rewatch his death, you stood to the side with a thumbnail in your mouth, anxiously gnawing away.

You were unsure as to how they were going to take this news, but all you hoped was that they didn’t think you’d betrayed their brother and son.

The youngest girl was sobbing loudly at the sight of her brother being mauled, along with her siblings who sniffled and cried silently.

The footage halted at the end, and you were quick to hurry forwards and turn it off, sparing them the sight of their beloved boy a cavern of himself on the floor.

“Thank you, for that.” His brother swallowed thickly, his hand on his mum's back supportively.

You nodded, “You’re welcome.”

“You need to show everyone!” One of the younger girls exclaimed, standing up, “Everyone thinks you’re horrible but you’re not! You tried to save our brother! You have to tell them all!”

“Viola!” An older girl hissed, pulling her back down onto the sofa.

“Poppy, it’s—“

“Hey.” You whispered, crouching in front of her, “It doesn’t matter what the rest of Panem thinks about me. What matters is that you and your family know the truth. I can live with everyone else thinking I killed Arthur, but you all deserved to know that he meant … so much to me in that arena. And I wouldn’t be standing here without him.”

The girl beside her was blubbering an awful amount, and you were slightly worried she was going to make herself sick.

“What’s your name?” You spoke softly.

“F-F-F-Flora.” She hiccuped.

“You have a beautiful name.” You smiled, “And you have Arthur’s eyes, you know.”

“We all do.” Viola spoke again.

A little quip of your lips appeared at the tone in which she spoke.

She was strong and unwavering, but you knew beneath all that was just a little girl, scared and upset without her big brother.

It was like looking into a mirror.

“Arthur told me a lot about you.” You admitted, “You’re Viola, yeah?”

She nodded.

“He said that I would like you a lot, and so far he’s got a good judge of character.”

The smallest of smiles appeared on her face.

“It’s okay to miss him, you know? I miss my brother all the time.”

“Arthur was really angry at Cove when she killed Sebastian.” The girl next along said, “I’m Willow.”

“It’s nice to meet you Willow.”

“He said that she was wrong for doing that, even though it meant we won.” Viola carried on, only to be interrupted by Flora.

“That’s why mummy was so angry, because she thought you did the same thing to Arthur what happened to your brother.”

“I would never.” You shook your head.

“Poppy, we should take her to Arthur’s favourite place!” Willow gasped.

“If there’s time, I wouldn’t mind at all.”

“I don’t care if there’s time or not. Everyone else can wait.”

Flora giggled, “You’re so cool.”

The docks that Poppy had taken you along had some of the most peaceful atmospheres you’d ever experienced.

With your feet dangling over the edge of the wooden ledge, your toes grazed the softly lapping water, letting the sound of waves hitting the shore fill your ears.

She sat beside you, honey brown hair blowing in the wind ever so slightly.

The soft stench of fish lingered in the air, much to be predicted due to where you were, and if it were for anyone else other than Arthur, you probably would’ve excused yourself to go inside and get away from it all.

But this was his favourite place, and the entirety of you wished you could move here and revel in the same air that he had.

“Thank you.” Poppy said.

You turned to her, eyebrows furrowed lightly.

“For not killing my brother.”

The fact that she was thanking you for that alone was enough to make you snort, but you held it back, because there were some people (that you hadn’t even been face to face with yet) that couldn’t say the same.

You nodded, “I’m glad I didn’t.”

“He really liked you. I could tell.”

“… I know.”

“No, he liked you.” Poppy emphasised.

Again, you nodded, “I know.”

“Did you …”

“Like him back?”

“Yeah.”

You swallowed, thinking of your answer for a short moment.

It would be wrong to say no.

You were purposefully delaying your tour experience and the time you got with other districts to accompany his family and socialise with them.

You were letting the sea salt crystallise in your hair, and grains of sand stick to your skin in the hopes that you could carry them back home with you. You wandered if he’d ever touched one of the grains on the balls of your feet, or if he would only ever continue to live on in memory.

“I did.”

“Did he know?”

“I hope so— I mean, it wouldn’t have mattered if he did or not.”

“Why?”

“Because the odds were never in our favour.”

[abficlibrary]

just planned out a 10 part series for alfie, even though i have finished none of my others 🙂‍↕️

[oliviaaaaaaaaaaaaaa]

phwoaarrrrrrr

[abficlibrary]

harry and his mrs post situationship breakup are so stranger by olivia rodrigo coded

[abficlibrary]

Summary: alfie's mum is one of your favourite people to gossip with ab x reader word count 922

based on this request

ALFIE'S MUM WAS easy to get along with. Sometimes you wondered if you bonded better with her than you did with her son. You certainly looked forward to seeing her every time Alfie proposed going to her house. At this point you would consider her a friend, not just your boyfriend’s mum. And who better to gossip with than a friend like that. 

You abandoned your boyfriend more or less the second you entered his childhood home. 

The two of you holed up in the living room, glasses of wine in your hand far too early in the day. Alfie was left to sit in his room on his own, frantically texting Chip and asking what to do. He had a horrible feeling that he was the topic of your discussion, but he didn’t want to seem like a crazy boyfriend. Hence why he was asking for advice. Chip just found the whole thing hilarious and promised if he was there he would probably join in with them too. That did nothing to make him feel better. 

At one point he tried lingering outside the door to see if he could hear what you were talking about, but a treacherous creaky floorboard gave him away and he had to escape the scene before either of you caught him red handed. 

Eventually, he was too hungry to keep hiding away. He had to interrupt out of fear of starving to death if he didn’t. 

He knocked first, but he knew it wasn’t a good sign when your voices died down the moment he walked into the room. Either you were talking about him, or you were talking about something you didn’t want him to know about. If he was being totally honest with himself, he didn’t know which one was worse. All he did know was that he didn’t like being ganged up on like this. And he was going to spiral, hard. 

“What are you doing?” he asked, trying to ignore the way his heart was racing uncomfortably. 

His mum smiled. “Nothing. Just talking.”

Part of him was screaming at him to leave the room. The air was almost suffocating and he had a strong feeling that was due to him ruining the moment. 

“Shall I leave?” 

You shook your head, patting the space next to you on the sofa for him to join. The evil smile on your face didn’t do much to calm his nerves. You knew this was going to drive him crazy for as long as you refused to tell him what was happening. “We were pretty much done. Come join us. What’s up?”

“Uh, I was just getting hungry. Wondered what everyone wanted to do?” He shuffled over hesitantly, sitting down stiffly in the seat next to you. He nearly flinched every time a bit of you accidentally touched him. You shouldn’t have taken so much joy in that fact, but seeing him wound up like this was a little bit hilarious. 

Alfie didn’t bring it up again until you were laid next to each other in bed much, much later. You were scrolling through your phone aimlessly, and you’d thought he was doing the same. Really he’d just been staring blankly at his screen for a while as he worked up the courage to ask you. 

“So, what were you and mum talking about?”

You rolled your eyes, laughing quietly. You knew something was on his mind when he’d been quiet for too long, you just hadn’t expected him to be thinking about this hours later. “It was nothing. Why are you so worried about it?”

He shrugged, trying to act like he didn’t care. “I’m not.” It was slowly eating away at him every time he thought about it. He wanted to let it go, he really did, but there was a tiny voice in the back of his head saying he couldn’t. In an ideal world he would roll over, close his eyes and go straight to sleep to forget about it. But even when he turned his back to you, it was like he could still hear the way you and his mum were laughing without him. 

With a huff he turned to face you again, being met with the same amused grin you’d been wearing for most of the night. “Why won’t you just tell me?” 

You rolled your eyes. “Why are you assuming we were talking shit about you? We could have been on about anything.” 

“Because you always talk shit about me. I know you, and I know that look on your face. You’re guilty, but you won’t admit it.” He was getting pretty passionate about this. 

Any other day you might have teased him and kept this up for as long as possible, but all the wine you’d been drinking with his mum had made you tired. You just wanted to go to sleep, not reassure your big man baby that you still loved him and wouldn’t dream of slagging him off with his mum. 

“Is there something we should have been talking about?”

He shook his head. “No! Obviously not, I just–” he groaned into his hands. He hated how much you were getting under his skin. You were probably doing this on purpose. “Can you just tell me if you were talking about me?” 

You rolled over, bringing the covers up to your chin and letting your eyes finally close. If he wanted to keep spiralling, he could do it quietly while you slept. “Nope. Goodnight, Alf.”

taglist @buttlesangel @loveheart-123 @moonstruckstarkey @graciesstarrr @letterboxd-lovr @livvytv @lilyyxoii @golden-hoax @miya-111 @amrx1 @brizzybliss @tinysweetsmoon @ijustwannaread03 @theoreticallythe @princessxcutie @larryleeroy-lobsterbob @dopeysunflowers @jellliefish @rrysbunnyyy @tenaciousgypsytemplar @siriuslyjailed @cinemafics @smileylando @lovingaphroditesworld @rubyrubyrubyrubyahhhhhh @lovelookspretty @liz140569 @xoxoishu @bunbunbl0gs @xoa1 @hoeforshaw @arthursartour @partyouttgedoor @sadieinbloom

[abficlibrary]

This is really random but could you please do one where you're like gossiping with ab's mum and he walks in on you talking. It's a really random request lol.

here you go babe xx

[abficlibrary]

loved the last two harry fics you’ve posted and so excited to see there’s more coming!! your writing is soo good xx

thank you lovely, i'm hoping i can convince myself to get stuck in and write the rest of what i have, but i'm definitely enjoying writing for harry at the minute xx

[buttlesbunnie]

I CAN HANDLE IT ──  a.buttle  ౨ৎ ⋆｡˚

summary: you never intended for alfie to spend the night

content: policeman!ab , 18+ mdni , swearing , making out , p in v , multiple positions , missionary , doggy style , oral (f!receiving) , handjob , spanking

notes: long awaited policeman!ab smut is finally here!! i actually really enjoyed writing this (maybe that’s because i love him a lot) but yeah! struggled with the fluff at the beginning more than with the actual smut lol how weird

wc: 3,616

DINNER WENT SURPRISINGLY well. Despite not having the funds to pay, you still offered, and Alfie declined (as you’d expected him to). However, something that you didn’t expect from yourself was to welcome him into your home after he’d dropped you off.

Surprisingly, Finn had taken himself off to sleep, exhausted from a day of school and socialising so much over dinner. You kissed him goodnight, and Alfie waved politely before the young boy clambered up the stairs, leaving you two grownups to your own devices.

You shared light conversation and lingering touches, the TV playing some boring cable channel in the background that neither of you were particularly paying much attention to.

There was something lingering in the air that sent a ripple of goosebumps arising along your skin.

The way his gaze loitered, and his touch hovered for a little too long had you feeling things that were far from appropriate. Your knees were touching, but it felt so much more than accidental, because neither of you had made the move to change the way you were sitting.

For some reason, your gaze kept falling upon the clock above your television, watching the minutes tick by. Part of you was waiting for him to announce his departure, the other part was praying that he didn’t ever.

You’d be plenty satisfied if he’d decide to move in with you.

Just in case he did say he was leaving soon, you thought a thanks was due.

“Thank you for tonight, Alfie. You didn’t have to.”

He shrugged, waving it off as if taking people out for dinner was just all apart of the job, “It’s alright. I didn’t mind. It was actually really fun.”

“It was?”

“Yeah.” He beamed, “You and Finn are great company.”

“Him? Yeah. Me? Ah, I dunno.” You clicked your tongue.

“Seriously? Reader, spending tonight with you has been the highlight of my week— nevermind that. Month.”

You became flustered freakishly quickly, “You’re just saying that—“

“No, I mean it.” Alfie reached forward, taking a loc of hair and tucking it back behind your hair, “Darlin’, do you really think I told you you were my dream just for a laugh?”

You shrugged, muttering a reply, “I dunno.”

“I really hate how little you think of yourself.”

His thumb dragged down your cheek, rubbing over the curve of your cheekbone like it was secondhand nature, and totally normal to be sharing such an intimate moment with someone who was a common face down at the station.

“You’re brilliant, Reader. You really are. Your mind, your humour, your strength—“

“Alfie.”

“What?”

Your lips parted with a response that never came. Dropping your head back down, you pursed your lips and fiddled with your fingers enough that the friction might’ve been able to start a fire had you had sticks for flesh.

“Hey.” He whispered.

Begrudgingly, you lifted your head, your expression slightly guarded.

“I hope you know that I mean every word of what I say. You’re … everything.”

Your breath hitched in your throat, and it was like his words gave you a sudden surge of confidence and boldness that you never found yourself having with him when it came to physical touch.

Flirting with him was easy, you could flirt do that all day long, but when it came to your performance of acting on things, you failed drastically.

Except for now.

Your hands were grasping at the back of his head, fingers interlocked as your lips landed on his.

He stilled for a moment before everything clicked into place and he was moving back against you.

There was a moment of pause when you both pulled away, the tips of your noses grazing and the thin slip of space between you began occupying a mixture of your shared breaths.

As your lips collided for a second time, there was a certain passion and ferocity hidden beneath the gentle movements.

His lips were soft against yours, but you were hungry for more than just a gentle caress of lips. You wanted his tongue in your mouth, and if he wasn’t going to initiate that, you’d just have to push for it.

Your fingers creased the collar of his shirt as they scrunched it up to pull him closer just as your tongue slid over his lower lip.

He groaned at the feeling, his fingers beginning to dig into the fat of your hips.

“Alfie.” You muttered against his mouth, leaning back and hooking one leg over his hip to bring his crotch against yours.

The friction caused a reaction from the both of you in that of his hips pushing forwards more and your back arching ever so slightly.

“You’re so beautiful.” He whispered, sinking his body against yours and beginning to trail kisses all the way down your neck and chest.

You hummed, fingers threading through the dark curls around the back of his head and tugging lightly.

His fingers came down to fumble with the button of your jeans, undoing it before tugging them down your legs, leaving you in your underwear.

Teasingly, he swiped his fingers along your core, giving you nothing more than a glimpse of what was to come, before holding the side of your stomach again.

The heat between your legs was becoming unbearable, and something needed to be done before you whisked yourself off to your bedroom to sort yourself out.

You didn’t anticipate him swiping a thumb over the peak of your breast, but you weren’t upset about it by any means. Though it did only intensify the throbbing between your legs, and he’d still made no move to relieve you.

“Hm, Alf …”

“Yeah?” His voice was gravelly against the heated skin of your chest, his thumb and forefinger tweaking your nipple.

“Need you to touch me.” You panted.

He hummed in acknowledgement before pulling off, “Touch you? How about I eat you out?”

You nearly fainted at the thought.

Nodding rapidly, your hands came up to his face and your thumbs stroked over his beard that was wet with a mixture of both of your salivas.

He grinned, kissing your cheek before sliding even further down your body.

He adjusted the position you were in so that you were sitting upright with your legs slung over his shoulders, because there was no way that he was going to fit on the sofa if you were both laying down on it.

“God, you’re soaked.” He chuckled at the sight of your knickers clinging to your folds.

“Well, yeah.” You scoffed like it was obvious, “When’s the last time a guy offered to eat me out? Like, never.”

“Good thing you’ll never have to ask another guy again.” He hummed while hooking his fingers into the waistband of your pants and slowly sliding them down.

You could’ve whined at the way he kept you on the edge, writhing for more, especially when he blew a tantalising breath against your heated core.

“Alfie, please.” You whimpered, hole clenching around nothing.

“Alright, alright.” He chuckled, leaning forwards and dragging his tongue up your centre.

It was a long, unhurried, purposeful lick that started at your entrance and finished at your clit where he encased it with his lips and began sucking lightly.

“Jesus Christ.” You gasped out, fingers squeezing the cushions on your sofa.

He kept going with this motion, a consistent, leisurely slide of his tongue that mixed his saliva amongst your wetness partnered with a firm pressure on your clit.

It truly was one of the best sexual experiences you’d had in a long time.

You’d never had someone pay so much intense attention to your body, looking for little reactions, analyzing every single expression that came through on your face.

Though you were enjoying it, you wish he wasn’t so slow with it.

You couldn’t tell if he was doing it to be teasing, or if he was doing it for his own enjoyment, or if he was doing it because he thought you wanted something slow and gentle, but you needed him to speed up.

So, you bucked your hips up into his mouth, rolling your cunt against his tongue in an attempt to urge him to move faster.

He didn’t.

His large hands splayed across your hips, pinning them down to the cushioning beneath you and forcing you to take what he was giving you.

It was agonising.

Really to the point where you were beginning to not feel anything.

“Mm— Alfie,” You sat up onto your hands, dropping your legs down from his shoulders, “Alfie, stop.”

He pulled away with a gentle kiss, his lips glistening with your slick, “What? What’s wrong?”

“I—“ You sighed, “It was just a bit slow.”

“O-Oh, right. Sorry.” He said, stroking his thumbs over your hipbones, “Do you want me to try again?”

“No, that’s okay.” You shook your head, “You can fuck me, though?”

He grinned, lifting off of his knees and crawling over you, hovering with his hands on either side of your head before lowering his lips to yours again.

This time, his tongue slid right against yours, making you hum pleasantly. You could taste yourself on him, but you didn’t let it deter you.

Your hands slid down from either side of his face, landing on his belt and beginning to undo it with steady, experienced motions.

The sound of leather sliding through denim loops caused a rush of adrenaline to run through you, and as the metal clanked to the floor, you became increasingly more desperate.

Your movements were more rushed, undoing his fly and shoving his jeans down frantically.

“It’s alright, I don’t have to go home any time soon.” He muttered against your mouth.

“I need you.” You panted heavily, causing him to break out into a smug smirk.

“Yeah?” He pressed a kiss to the corner of your mouth.

“God, yeah.” Your chest heaved, breathing uneven.

Once his boxers were down, you were given a moment to ogle the sheer impressiveness of his length. It was heavy in your hand as you wrapped your fingers around the base, and curved a decent amount. The tip was an angry red, leaking with suppressed sexual frustration.

“Jesus, Alfie.” You chuckled breathily.

“God.” He groaned at the feeling of your palm sliding up and down his cock.

A cheeky giggle escaped your mouth, bottom lip tugged between your lips as you pumped your fist rhythmically.

“Keep going like that and I’m gonna cum.” He huffed, his hips beginning to jerk forward a little.

“I kinda want you to cum in my mouth, to be honest.”

His eyes fluttered shut at the thought, the image of your mouth replacing your hand materialising behind the backs of his eyelids.

Alfie shifted one of his hands from the sofa to your breast, kneading the mound as if it was grounding him. With a flick of his thumb over your nipple, you moaned breathily, and at that sound, he was cumming in your hand, his sticky release coating your fingers and palm.

“Fuckin’ell, Reader.” He panted heavily, lowering onto his forearms as his biceps began to shake.

You waited for him to open his eyes, and once he had, you took your fingers into your mouth, sucking them clean of his cum before dragging your tongue over your palm and collecting that up too.

He thought he was about to orgasm all over again just from the sight.

“You’re perfect.” He said, shifting his hips so that he was perfectly aligned with your pussy.

With a now-clean hand, you brought it to the side of his face, the other one wrapping around the bicep beside your head, holding onto him as he gradually pushed forward.

You gasped at the intrusive pressure, nails digging into his skin harshly while he let out a low curse at the feeling of your walls tight around him.

Bottoming out, he remained completely still, waiting for you to give him the signal that you had adjusted and were ready for him to move. Once you did, he began sliding his length in and out of you.

His pace was something you’d never experienced before, full of long drags and soft thrusts forward that never went too fast.

Because it was so foreign to you, you weren’t sure how you felt about it.

“That good?” He muttered down your ear, pressing gentle kisses to your shoulder.

“Mm.” You hummed.

It felt good. He felt good. But you just … weren’t sure.

“Can you go faster?” You requested.

He frowned a little, “Faster? Are you sure? I just started.”

“Please.” You nodded rapidly.

“Okay, okay.”

As his hips picked up pace, you became a little more audible, soft moans echoing down his ear, but it was still just too gentle.

You wanted something raw and primal — something borderline animalistic. You didn’t need to be making sweet sweet love to a police officer.

“Faster, Alf, please.” You begged, tightening your arms around his shoulders.

He paused again, “I don’t wanna hurt you.”

You shook your head, “You won’t. I can handle it.”

It was like a switch flicked in his brain, because his eyes darkened and the cockiest of smirks took over his face.

You let out a short scream before slamming your hand to your mouth when he whisked you up into his arms, one hand beneath your thigh and the other around your lower back. Your ankles locked at the base of his spine and he kissed you deeply while making his way up to your room.

He closed the door quietly, gently placing you back on your feet so that you could both pull your shirts up and over your heads. It was miraculous how you both still had them on.

“Fuck me.” Alfie groaned at the sight of your tits.

“Please let me suck you off.” You whispered in a singular breath, eyeing his abs like a starving predator.

You wanted to rake your nails up and down the hard pack of muscle while bringing him to orgasm on your tongue. You wanted his hands in your hair, tugging it while bucking up into your mouth.

“Another time.” He replied, lifting you into his arms again.

You reached behind you and down, blindly looking for his cock with your hand. Once it was in your hold again, you stroked it twice before aligning it in the right position and letting him guide your hips to sink down on it.

He lifted you up, biceps bulging to the point where you nearly salivated at the sight, before lowering you back down again.

“Oh my God,” You hissed under your breath, legs locked tightly around his hips.

His hands slid down from the dip of your spine and to the globes of your ass, squeezing and kneading them before landing a harsh slap.

You yelped, your entire body jolting closer to his.

“Shh, shh,” He hushed you, soothing the sting with a gentle rub before landing another spank.

“Faster, Alf.” You whispered hoarsely down his ear, nails digging into his shoulder blades as you clung onto him for dear life.

The angle was a little awkward, and he was struggling to find a decent pace without his knees giving in, but the moment he pinned your back to your bedroom door, his issue was relieved. His hips became like pistons, constant movements that had you leaving red welts down his back and your toes curling from the otherworldly pleasure.

“You feel fuckin’ amazing.” He grunted, thrusting particularly harsh in a way that caused his tip to slam against your g-spot.

His praising words made your walls clamp down on his cock, a fizzing of excitement from his gratification starting at your spine.

Your lips molded together again, less co-ordinated this time as you were both so caught up in the pleasure of your bodies connecting and forming as one.

“Better?” He groaned against your tongue.

You nodded frantically, mind too hazy and full of him to form a coherent reply.

He chuckled at the sight of you, beaming knowing that he was the one to do this to you.

Alfie adjusted you up higher then, causing him to slip out of you. You whined at the empty feeling, but were immediately filled with a rush of excitement as he threw you back onto the bed.

You bounced against the mattress, grinning up at him until he grabbed you by your ankles and flipped you over.

One swift thrust later, and he was back inside you, filling you from a completely different angle that had you clenching harder around him, feeling more stuffed than ever.

Your arms were crossed on the mattress in front of you, fingers gripping your bedsheets into a crinkled mess as his hip bones shaped against the globes of your ass, undoubtedly leaving red marks that might even be there when you woke up.

Craning your neck, you sneaked a glance back over your shoulder, admiring the sight of unadulterated bliss gracing his features. His eyes were trained on the ripple of your ass every time his hips pounded into it, and his hands moved over your body like they couldn’t figure out where was the perfect place to hold.

Either that or he wanted to grasp all of you at once, and you were leaning towards that reasoning.

Untwisting the bedsheets from one of your hands, you brought your fingers between your legs, toying with your clit until your walls were squeezing around Alfie’s cock.

“God— You’re—“

You would’ve laughed at his inability to string a sentence together had you not been in the same boat.

As the warmth of your oncoming orgasm fizzled deep in your abdomen, you became increasingly more slurred with your words, bordering on babbling incoherent nonsense.

“Alfie— Mmm, oh fuck—“

“Take it, darlin’. Atta girl.” He grunted, shifting his grip to hold onto your shoulder with one hand and your hip with the other, giving him the perfect amount of leverage to slam into you brutally.

It punched squeals and guttural moans from your throat, especially when he started laying stinging slaps to the plump flesh of your ass.

Just as he came, you did too.

His hands kept your body still, forcing you to be flush up against him as he spilled into you. Your body spasmed with the force of your orgasm, fingers clenching and flexing with the unknowing of what to do.

Cautiously, like you were a piece of porcelain, he helped you onto your back, moving your legs for you and being extra careful not to jostle your body too much.

You let out a content hum as your head hit the pillow, hair sprawling out in a way you probably would’ve deemed as messy and unruly, but Alfie still stared at you like you were a sight that belonged in the Louvre.

“Will Finn be awake?” He whispered.

“No, he’d be moving loads if he was.”

“Ok.” He shifted towards the door before turning back to you as if he’d just remembered something, “I’m not leaving. I’m just going to get our clothes from downstairs.”

You giggled softly, nodding, “Okay.”

During the time that he was gone, you stared at your ceiling with the knuckle of your first finger in your hand, a grin plastered on your face that wouldn’t dampen no matter how much you tried to straighten out and control yourself. Seriously, your cheeks were beginning to hurt.

Alfie was wearing his boxers again when he returned, and his shirt was flying in your direction. On top of that, there were two glasses of water in his hands, and all of the clothes you’d removed downstairs were slung over one forearm.

You sat up to slide it on over your head before slinging your legs over the edge of your bed.

Based on the weakness in your thighs, you could already tell that standing was going to be difficult, let alone walking.

“Woah, what are you doing?” Alfie asked after placing the glasses on your bedside table and leaving your clothes in a pile in the corner.

“… I was gonna see you to the door?”

“Oh. You want me to leave?”

“You want to stay?”

“If you want me to.”

Hesitantly, like you were waiting for him to travel back on his words, you laid back down.

“Alright.”

“Okay?”

“Okay.”

He slipped into bed beside you, flicking your bedside lamp off before tugging the covers up to just above his nipples and then laying an arm across your waist.

“Are the lights off downstairs?” You whispered into the darkness, your fingers finding the hand splayed over your stomach.

“Yeah, I switched off. Made sure the door was locked too.” He hummed, voice gravely.

“Okay.”

The tips of your nails dragged along his skin.

“Thank you.”

“No problem.” He pressed a lingering kiss to your shoulder. “Night.”

“Night.”

Rolling over, you turned your back on him, but he only shuffled closer, keeping his arm around you tight.

“… Is this okay?”

“Yeah.”

“Ok. Cool. Night.”

“Night.” You muttered again.

The rise and fall of his chest against your back was surprisingly soothing.

You would’ve thought sharing your bed with another person would’ve freaked you out, because this was your space and it shouldn’t be invaded (except by Finn when he’s had a nightmare, of course) but having Alfie beside you, making your mattress dip a whole lot more than usual, was completely okay with you.

In fact, it sent you to sleep quicker than normal.

You didn’t register any time awake between shutting your eyes and actually becoming unconscious, and it was lovely.

[abficlibrary]

the harry break up post slayed it was so sad

thank you babe, now i just need to get onto the happier fics in the series 🙂‍↕️

[buttlesbunnie]

ARTHUR FREDERICK APOCALYPSE AU ! ౨ৎ ⋆｡˚

‘i can fix her’ , family tree — ethel cain

( content warnings : 18+ mdni , sexual content , swearing , literary gore , injury description , probable medical inaccuracies , age gap , death , angst (w/ comfort) , commitment issues , avoidant attachment , grief , depression , main character death , mentions of family death , sexual assault & violence )

( minnie speaks : arthur’s one is the most interesting i think and it actually includes the other ukyt guys … which will be fun to incorporate into this. also yes, age gap. i’m keeping him as 30 and reader is 21. another trope i shoved into this fic that isn’t related to arthur or reader is grumpy man accidentally ‘adopting’ a child or two, so … make ur guesses about who you think that is )

( taglist (ask to join!) : @sweetlikedeer @georgesclarkey @lostdeerinthemist @l3nney @gerardswhore @h5nn5ah @arthursartour @abficlibrary @finchytv @saskiaskeetz )

chapters ౨ৎ ⋆｡˚

chapter one ( coming soon ! )

[buttlesbunnie]

GEORGE CLARKE APOCALYPSE AU ! ౨ৎ ⋆｡˚

fated soulmates , not all those who wander are lost — lana del rey

( content warnings : 18+ mdni , sexual content , swearing , literary gore , injury description , death , grief , angst (w/ comfort) , ptsd , depression , attempted murder , probable medical inaccuracies , pregnancy )

( minnie speaks : moodboard two of three! honestly, this is my second favourite plot that i’ve got laid out, im just so excited for it i love george and reader in this 😣😣 )

( taglist (ask to join!) : @sweetlikedeer @georgesclarkey @lostdeerinthemist @l3nney @gerardswhore @h5nn5ah @arthursartour @abficlibrary @finchytv @saskiaskeetz )

chapters ౨ৎ ⋆｡˚

chapter one ( coming soon ! )

[buttlesbunnie]

ALFIE BUTTLE APOCALYPSE AU ! ౨ৎ ⋆｡˚

strangers to lovers , misuse oh — ethel cain

( content warnings : 18+ mdni , sexual content , swearing , literary gore , injury description , death , grief , angst (w/ comfort) , religion & religious trauma/ imagery/ guilt , abandonment issues , ptsd , sexual violence & assault , probable medical inaccuracies , cannibalism , pets in an apocalypse , selective mutism )

( minnie speaks : hi everyone! i’m just dropping all my apocalypse masterlists tonight because i started writing my alfie series on a whim, so im just posting them in preparation of anything being finished, which is still unlikely lol. a lot of content warnings within this one so please proceed with caution! xx )

( taglist (ask to join!) : @sweetlikedeer @georgesclarkey @lostdeerinthemist @l3nney @gerardswhore @h5nn5ah @arthursartour @abficlibrary @finchytv @saskiaskeetz )

chapters ౨ৎ ⋆｡˚

chapter one ( coming soon ! )