do you think if i started explaining something i find really interesting to mean!alfie he’d just laugh and tell me to shut up because he doesn’t need me to do anything except be ready for him and rely on him???? - 🐰
oh absolutely 🐰!!!!
When Alfie first meets you it’s one of the things that catches his attention immediately , that you love to run your mouth and have plenty of little things to nerd out about. He admires it at first, actually. But he quickly realises you are just better with your mouth closed 🤷♀️
He indulges you sometimes at the beginning when everything’s not as bad and you actually hang out, letting you ramble about something he’s already forgotten just so it’s easier to get you drawers off. Until it dawns on him he doesn’t even need to do that: he can take what he wants.
It starts small, telling you to shut up when you over explain your coffee order or when you’re talking through a film he doesn’t even like. “God you can’t be serious, shut up…telly’s on” He laughs but you know nothings funny. At events he started speaking for you even to your friends, letting you know he’s ‘got this’ when you walk in like it’s some kind of support. Sorting all your bills out behind your back and turning up out of the blue when he knew you had plans so you couldn’t go (such a mystery how he always knows🤔) slowly removing all your needs to speak. Only thing in his way was work, really. A work in progress if you will.
I can imagine it gets to a point where he’ll see you after work, whether he’s bringing a gift over or just checking you’re as desperate for him as the last, and you start talking about something interesting you worked on that day and he just slaps you. “No more of that noise angel, thought you wanted me?” New movie from your favourite franchise came out? Uh uh, his fingers are in your mouth prepping your throat for him before you get past the first word “So much better, see?”
After a while you learn to just…switch off around him. Head so empty if you knocked on it you’d probs hear an echo. Suggestive, compliant, mouldable — just how he wants you. Nothing should matter to you at all except serving him.
Unless he’s got you all upset, that’s a whole other story…
✧ a/n: part 2 finally!! thank you @buttlesbunnie for literally fuelling this entire thing :3 ✧ pairing: alfie buttle x reader ✧ cw: mean alfie, manipulation, fingering, p in v, squirting, slapping, light injury, dubcon ✧ summary: Alfie likes creating problems he can fix. And then breaking you all over again.
alfie masterlist
CUDDLING WITH ALFIE was by no means a rare occurrence. It was your weak spot, and you made the awful mistake of showing him that quite quickly. He knew no matter what he did as soon as he had you in his arms you melted straight back to that version of you that craved to serve, to please. You existed solely for him, as long as he put you back together at the end of the night, the week, the month. However long he had you cradled in his toxic webs, his muscled arms around you fixed it all every time.
It’s how he kept you around.
Even after a mess like today that will definitely end in you losing your job because this isn’t the first time you’ve got like this and it won’t be the last, even after destroying your kitchen, you’ll stay. You’ll call him when he’s gone, text him that you miss him and wait at his beck & call like every other time. He made it so much better after it’s hard to remember why you hated him in the first place: the dreaded cycle. He loved it and sickeningly you did too.
So there you stayed tucked into a ball in his lap, ear to his chest and letting the erratic beat of his heart soothe you down into that special place in your head where you don’t need to think. Your brain turns to mush quicker than it should but with the emotional turmoil you put yourself through, it’s anyone’s guess how you lasted as long as you did. In fact, you’re almost asleep curled up against him like a cat until a hand reaches around and starts ghosting between your ass cheeks.
“Better when you’re like this isn’t it angel”
His fingers catch on the sensitive skin between your legs and even though you don’t make a sound, he can practically feel the way your clit jumps. A few strokes over that sensitive nub is enough to make a sticky mess of your cunt, his fingers gathering it up just to shove it back inside your hungry hole with shallow thrusts, teasing, testing. Alfie wanted you to beg, but it was kind of a lost cause, honestly. The squelch of your grool as he pressed and pressed inside you was obscene, made just so much worse by how silent you were. Nothing to drown it out, nothing to make it worthwhile — your mouth remained disconnected from your brain though, much like the rest of you.
Before you know it, he’s shuffling his jeans down from underneath you, pulling his cock out and lathering it in the juices left on his hand. With an arm hooked under your knees, he thrusts up and impales you on him all in one go, basking in the tightness of your walls around him despite all the lazy fingering.
Everything’s lazy for a while, gentle, small movements and sweet nothings in your ear until your first whimper of the night chokes up your throat: that’s what makes him snap.
“You think you just get to kick up everything in your path ‘cos you don’t get what you want, hm?”
He slams you down on him hard enough that you’re almost sure you’re going to end up bleeding.
“Fuckin’… fuckin’ make fun of me? What I do?”
One hand is on your chest, squeezing and squeezing, definitely leaving fingerprint-shaped bruises circled around your tit.
“Did you forget that’s what funds your stupid life? Hm? You’d be dead without me”
He’s cruel and he means it with all his heart. And brutally honest enough that it snaps you out of your haze. The anger boils up too quickly for your body to handle, your head spinning and bile pushing at your throat to try to fight your way off of him. You scramble in his lap, slapping and scratching your way out of the quicksand that is his hold; you’re fighting a losing battle with him. In a weird fluke, you get far enough to land on the sofa next to him, unsheathing yourself and collapsing headfirst into the cushion, immediately missing the peace of being full.
“Leave me the fuck alone Alfie”
He drags you up by a clump of your hair, yanking your head back so he can see your face and hits you square on the cheekbone. The rings on his fingers collide with your face first, immediately splitting open the peak of your cheek and leaving a searing handprint on your skin. Tears immediately pool in your eyes and the sick grin you see on his face pushes them over.
“Don’t be such a bitch about it will you, you can deal with the consequences”
Alfie shoves your face into the cushion with the back of your head and pulls your hips up to face him now standing beside the sofa — he slides back into you with ease immediately returning to that vicious pace he’d started. You’ve given up fighting now, letting yourself collapse limply and be ruined, have your dignity stolen from you again. There’s no fight left in you, just a sour feeling in your belly and the stinging on your face. You know your blood is everywhere, down your legs, over your face and the couch fabric and it’s going to cost fortunes to get it dry cleaned. Alfie might pay for it, or even a whole new sofa, but you never know with him.
“Wouldn’t have to be like this if you were good sweetheart”
And of course he’s right. His fingers are fiddling with your clit again, strumming you like his own personal guitar and the way your belly jumps is a shock to you. How he manages to break you down to the smallest version of yourself and still have you melting in his hands is a mystery, you just obey whatever your body tells you when he’s around. The liquid gold in your stomach is bubbling so hot and so fast it doesn’t actually matter how angry or sad you are, he’s going to make you cum whether you like it or not. You scream as you tumble over the edge, soaking his hand with a small stream pouring down your leg.
“Look at you, you dirty girl…getting off on messing everything up are ya?”
His hand never stills.
“Fuckin’ gushing all over me, look at the state of you”
Alfie’s slamming into you, hips slapping your ass cheeks enough to bruise and balls colliding with your sensitive clit. You’re all screams now, unable to contain a single thing with the pain of lying on your cut face and your overstimulated cunt being abused. As his orgasm hits him, he pulls out and fucks the crease of your ass a few times letting himself spill out all over your back, leaving you a collapsed mess of bodily fluids.
“So beautiful when you’re like this angel, all quiet”
He disappears for a bit somewhere in the flat but you stay completely still, too afraid to move. He comes back with his phone and takes a singular photo of you in a heap; you don’t see the flash, but you feel it. You stay there just breathing and gathering your bearings for ages waiting for him to leave or maybe start ranting again. That’s what he normally does. But then he climbs back on the sofa after kicking his shoes off by the table, lies behind you and tries to pull you in.
“Leave me…please”
Your voice is barely there, lacks the conviction you need to really mean it but you still try to get away. With your legs now seemingly made of jelly all you can do is flop onto the carpet and lie there to die.
“Don’t be silly come ‘ere”
Alfie pulls you back up with his arms under your armpits, dragging you to lie chest to back with him and wrapping you in his arms. His hold is tight, a preemptive in case you tried to run again when he’s caught off guard but you both know deep down you’re barely alive enough to know your own name. He gently traced the lines of your face with an index finger until he reached the cut on your cheek, dusting over it before reaching his head around to give it a single light kiss.
“You know I don’t mean it, don’t you?”
You nod smally, though you don’t really know a thing about him. Just agreeing because he’s the only voice of reason left.
You wake up in the morning still on the sofa, but no Alfie. The flat’s clean and your cheek is plastered up, a brand new laptop on the table, too. A single text on your phone screen from him tells you this is all temporary.
✧ a/n: part 2 coming tomorrow i swear...this one's for minnie!! ✧ pairing: alfie buttle x reader ✧ cw: mean!alfie but in his nice era, panic attacks, references to self harming behaviour, nonsexual spanking ✧ summary: Alfie loves gifting you all the things you can't afford, but he loves toying with you even more.
alfie masterlist
Alfie was in one of those phases again. The ones where you wake up to gift boxes on your bedside table and new tracking information in your emails every few hours, always something expensive that you’d never buy yourself. Always something you really really wanted but could never afford on a salary like yours. It was almost thoughtful, honestly. He enjoyed spoiling you deep down, although he tried to hide the little grin when he gave you the pair of shoes you’d been talking about you know he does. Alfie’s not someone to do something willingly that he doesn’t like.
The bonus of him getting like this apart from the obvious was that you saw him more often. Sometimes he’d find you at work and your coworkers beg to know why AB of all people is dropping off Selfridges bags in your office; you never truly have an answer for them. Alfie even bought your mum a gift once after you’d mentioned wanting to get her something special for Mother’s Day, but not finding anything in your budget. He’d shown up in the morning and offered to drive you there with it already wrapped instead of going to see his own, told you not to worry about it and he’d see her another day (he doesn’t). And worst, most shamefully, he’d had to take you food shopping a couple of times. You’ll never know how he knew you were behind on bills and your fridge had been empty for way longer than necessary, but he filled it enough to last you weeks.
It was no wonder how reliant you ended up on him.
You woke up to a new skirt folded on the end of your bed with a Red Bull still cold like it was fresh from the fridge — you must’ve just missed him. It was tight and almost definitely too short to see the light of day, but that was probably the point. Most of the clothes he bought you anyway weren’t for you to enjoy yourself or for a nice picture, it was all for him. To see, to tear, to ruin: just like you.
After getting yourself ready for the day and downing the much-needed energy drink you wiggled your way into the ridiculously tiny skirt. To his credit, it looked bloody brilliant on you. It was faux leather, baby pink with black details that laced up on either side leaving little inklings of skin visible through the strings. It pulled in at your waist just right and the bottom of your ass cheeks were definitely more than visible, but you loved it all the same.
You got down on your knees in front of the floor-length mirror on your wardrobe knowing that’s exactly what he wanted to see and took a few photos you thought he might like. With the angle you’re sitting you can see right up the skirt between your legs, revealing the lack of panties and the smooth skin of your most private parts. You’d be lying if you said that wasn’t on purpose, always teasing him and testing what actually makes him snap. He had his games he played with you and you rightfully had yours.
You sent a couple off to him while eating breakfast, and then you waited. Waited and waited, waited for literally anything from Alfie. A text, a photo, an emoji…fucking anything. By noon, you’d still heard nothing and the buzzing in your chest he always set off was loud. You were meant to be working from home like you always did on Tuesdays, but not a single email or document had even been looked at because you simply couldn’t close the chat and put your phone down. Sometimes you could rationalise your way out of this, because Alfie’s a weird guy with a weird sleep schedule and an even weirder work one but with all the excitement you’d had to show him the skirt, you’re having a hard fall off.
You checked his stories obsessively, because he had been posting and normally that would’ve made you worse, but he was with Chip & Cal so he was probably working. Being an adult way more than you were anyway. But then you opened Instagram and your hand slipped into his profile and his follower count had gone up a few and… It really wasn’t your fault when the keyboard on your laptop broke from the force of your fists and the smashed tea mug on the floor definitely wasn’t you either. There was an imprint of the enter key on your wrist and tea everywhere but that was the least of your concerns, actually. Hot tears streamed down your face and god, anyone would think there was a loose zoo animal in your flat with the wails you let out but it honestly was not your fault.
It’s all his, like always.
When you frantically open your phone with wet and bloody hands to call him, he shockingly answers.
“Y’alright girl? In the office”
How can he act so casual at a time like this?
“Alfie, Alfie where have you been?”
“I’m working darlin what you after?”
You can faintly hear Cal asking if he’s chatting to a ‘jezzy’, and the way he laughs back makes it all boil over. You go on and on and on, screaming into the mic about how mean he is and how you hated his stupid presents. That he doesn’t even do anything in that office anyway, just sits around looking pretty and getting paid for it so he has plenty of time to text you back (that one stings a bit). You don’t give him any room to speak for ages, just rambling through sobs like there’s no tomorrow until you pause to catch your breath like you always do.
“Such a silly girl aren’t you, interrupting my job, making fun of my job even, aye? ‘Cos I didn’t give you enough attention?”
You give a pitiful hum of agreement. He’s always right about you, even when you don’t like it.
“Clean yourself up”
Alfie hangs up without saying anything else, waiting just long enough to know you’ve heard him before cutting you off.
You in fact don’t clean yourself up, or anything, actually. The broken porcelain still all over the floor and smashed laptop stare at you accusingly but you just can’t bring yourself to touch them. You stay planted firmly in that dining chair until your ass is numb and you’re seeing faces in the walls. Hours go by maybe, there’s no way to tell until the sun starts to set and it dawns on you that you wasted an entire day here. All of that work you’ll have to catch up on tomorrow and the berating from your manager, it’s never even worth it.
Alfie walks in at some point, starts fretting about you hurting yourself and clearing up the mess you made around you. Apparently, it wasn’t just the mug or the laptop you broke, your phone was smashed and in his words ‘you’ve mashed up your hands ‘ere girl, proper gnarly that’. You’re not really in your body enough to listen to him, sitting limp and unfazed while he works around you. He knows this is his doing, knows it’s easily avoidable. And while he’ll pick up the pieces and mop the floor, he’ll never feel bad enough to stop.
When he’s sure it’s clean enough that you won’t cut your feet, he guides you over to the sofa and lays you across his lap.
“Just need a little fixing don’t you, aye?”
He pulls your pyjama shorts down to around your knees and strokes over the supple globes of your ass, squeezing and pinching, and stroking over it again. Alfie’s always said it’s one of your best assets, and it’s hard to disagree with him. He’s humming the tune of something that you don’t quite recognise, but it’s light and calming in ways he never is. You think for a moment he might be feeling regret, but that’s not something he knows how to feel.
“Gonna help you now angel”
The palm of his hand comes down on your cheek harder than usual, a resounding slap ringing in the air and bouncing off the walls. You cry out a little at the contact, but he knows he’s not hurt you. He hits you again, and again until he thinks the smoke in your head has cleared. A good spanking always brought you back to earth, sometimes the only thing that will truly get through to you when you got like this — good thing he knows you inside and out.
“Come ‘ere then”
Alfie pulls you up and helps you into his lap, sitting sideways while he cradled you in his arms.
U told us you were wlw so how and why do u write for a boy. So performative
the funny thing about lesbianism is it doesn’t stop you from liking things actually just bcos there’s a man there fun fact 😍 and i can put my writing skills to use on anything at all! nothing about me changes that either
i can post about as many men as i want and that doesn’t make me any less gay doesn’t take away from the copious lesbian sex i’ve had (that uve clearly never gotten) doesn’t take away from any part of my identity i’ve fought with since i was too little to even be worried about those things
get a fucking job and stay out of lesbian business if ur so bothered please just block me honestly
alfie manhandling inexperienced!reader for the first time🐰
mmmmmmmmm this is so yummy 🐰!!!
NSFW BELOW ->
i imagine he doesn’t actually mean it the first time, just trying move you so he can see your face but he’s heavy handed at best so everything he does has 10x more power than he intends. you’re probably just laid down at an angle and he really wants to see your face, maybe steal a sweet kiss, but he grabs you by the hips or arms idk and throws you over onto your back pushing you deep into the mattress, hands probably too tight on you aswell.
you lay there with your eyes wide looking up at him a little bit shocked a little bit scared, confusingly a whole lot aroused…meanwhile Alf def thinks he’s just like killed you because he didn’t actually mean it and you are a fragile little thing, apologising for being too rough and promising that wasn’t his intent, knowing you’re still so new to this n he doesn’t want to scare you out of anything else. “you can do it again”
you’re very shy and meek, so when you actually express a want (in any way, honestly) he always says he’ll run through walls to let you have it. gets a bit carried away, even.
so next time you’re making out, maybe in his lap or against a door he doesn’t gently coax you to lay down anywhere, you’re shoved down from behind so hard you can’t even catch yourself on your hands and face planting in to the mattress/sofa. it’s a little scary still admittedly because you definitely hurt your nose and bit your tongue in the process but the fizzing between your legs washes that away anyway. Alfie even presses you down further until your hips are arched up and your back is in a painful angle, but it’s worth it when his fingers start trailing over the outline of your slit through your panties, skirt pooling around your waist.
he hopes he’ll get to fuck you like this soon, but he knows you aren’t ready yet. so much still to teach you.
✧ a/n: For the 400 anons I got about pervy bsf Alfie, hope this lives up to everyone’s expectations x ✧ pairing: alfie buttle x reader ✧ cw: pervy bestfriend alfie, innocent reader, dubcon, corruption kink, fingering, p in v, reverse cowgirl ✧ summary: Alfie’s made sure you save yourself for him in every way. Finally, he claims you.
alfie masterlist
ALFIE HAD ALWAYS told you to be careful who you got close to. Always told you boys wanted something from you that you absolutely couldn’t give them — you never really knew what that meant, you just listened to him. Of course, you were friends with boys anyway, Alfie an obvious example, but he pinky promised you he was a gooden and that no one else would be as nice to you as he was. Your parents hadn’t really helped this ideal either, having been very wary of what the world could do to their poor, sweet, innocent daughter. Unfortunately, teenage girls are mean, and teenage boys are…worse; there was nothing pushing back on what he’d made you believe, so nothing changed.
You always had a certain naivety about you ever since you were little, and Alfie picked up on it very quickly. He was just trying to protect you, obviously. You couldn’t have known better. Thus, you ended up quite sheltered, clueless. There were no secret chats under the covers at girls' sleepovers about boys or steamy movies you’d hide from your parents. Just you and Alfie. The way he touched you, talked to you, treated you — it was all you knew. And to be honest, you had no complaints.
Not making plans together when you were both free was a rare occurrence, to say the least. But with the recent heatwave, you were both content to stay home and sit still in front of a fan. Or so you thought. You were lying on your bed in just your knickers, because yes, it was that serious, not even the telly on to not risk heating the room even more and a Lana Del Rey CD playing in the background. Fan on blast and blinds closed to stop the stream of sunlight burning you alive, you were finally content after ages of sweating through clothes while you cleaned. Trying to wear anything was a lost cause. Brainlessly, you scrolled through your phone; any other activity would mean exerting too much energy for comfort — so you were completely oblivious to your surroundings and the sound of a car pulling into your drive. And the front door opening. And your bedroom door.
“I got bored, figured you wouldn’t mind me…”
Alfie stops in his tracks, eyes locking onto your almost bare form; he starts laughing, then. You jump out of your skin at the sight of him in front of you, quickly reaching for the duvet to cover yourself up, despite how hot it is. He’s definitely seen you naked before, sure: always comes in the bathroom while you’re showering, and you’ve never had any qualms about changing in front of him. But lying there practically naked for all his eyes to see was a little….much.
“My bad girl, caught you playin’ with your daffodil”
You tip your head slightly like a dog with confusion.
“What daffodil?”
Alfie can’t help but laugh at you again, much to your dismay.
“I meant touching yourself, what else could I have meant?”
A pause.
“Oh, you sweet thing”
You really don’t know what he means, and the condescending tone wasn’t helping. You grip onto the duvet and hold it against yourself tighter in protection as the embarrassment creeps in, because he’s looking at you in that way he always does when he confuses you. It’s almost like he enjoys it. After finally putting his bag down beside your desk and putting his can of now warm Monster down on a coaster, he walks over and reaches for the top of the blanket, pulling it away from your body; for some reason, even unknown to you, your hands drop and let him unveil you. Your cheeks are rosy red, and Alfie’s not sure if it’s the heat or his effect on you making you blush; either way, it’s making his belly warm. He loves getting you like this: squirmy and confused and embarrassed. He can’t help laying it on thick as usual.
“You reallyyyy don’t know what I’m talking about?”
You shake your head. Your hands come up to cover your chest as his gaze intensifies on you, feeling smaller and smaller beneath him the longer he stares.
“Your hands weren’t down…here?”
His fingers graze over your inner thigh, sending goosebumps across your skin and a spark between your legs you’ve become familiar with around him. You’ve never told him about it, way too nervous, and you can already hear the laugh he’ll let out and that venomous tone he puts on when you try to explain it. It’s not worth it.
“Why would they? Alf, don’t be silly, it’s too hot for games”
You test a light laugh, trying to brush over whatever he’s attempting to do to mess with you. Alfie doesn’t say anything this time, just puts on that boyish grin again and climbs his way onto the bed, shoving you over to make space for his large frame. He coaxes you into his lap before you can reach for the t-shirt you’d flung off earlier, slapping your hands away and holding you down tight when you try to grab it.
You sit like that for a while, back to chest, and his thick, muscly arms wrapped around your waist securely — you almost feel comfortable. The heat hasn’t changed, though, and the sweat gathering on your back, making his t-shirt stick to your skin is irritating at best. You can feel he’s sweating too, perspiration dripping down his temple and landing on your shoulder. Neither of you choose to move, though. After a while, you become acutely aware of how bare you are again and attempt to break out of his arms to at least put a bra on; he was not happy about it.
“I don’t remember telling you to get up, do you?”
Alfie’s never taken a tone like that with you before; it scares you enough to still completely in his hold. Suddenly his grip loosens, and his hands start wandering around your body, stuttering over the sticky skin and mapping out every crease, curve and bone. One hand dips low, stopping to caress your hip before gliding over your middle and down your thigh.
“You’ve never touched down here before, have you?”
His fingertips brush the inside of your thighs again and that fire in your belly ignites like all those times before. You’re noticeably nervous the more his hands explore you: he may have been a very physically affectionate guy and has held you and seen things no one else has but this is definitely new. No one has touched you down there, in fact, not yourself, and certainly not another boy (Alfie would kill you to say the least). You didn’t know that was an option, to be quite frank. You’d heard about boys doing stuff like that, and you’d caught him doing weird things a couple of times while you were sleeping, but not this. You inhale a shaky breath, and he takes that opportunity to slide his hand down and cup your clothed pussy in his palm.
“So sweet aren’t you, waiting for me to teach you like always, hm?”
You want to say you didn’t do a thing, but you keep quiet. There’s a tension in the air so strong you almost can’t breathe through it, let alone understand what it’s for. It’s always like this when Alfie touches you, leaving you afraid to move or say the wrong thing because sure he knows what he’s doing all the time, so far ahead of you there’s no hope of catching up. You don’t, though.
He pats over your clothed middle a couple of times with his fingers, gentle and light before bringing his hand down hard. Just once, to scare you or see what you do, he doesn’t even know. Despite the cushioning of your knickers it still stung, a zap of something you can’t identify hitting your belly and making your head swim. Your breath catches in your throat and the way he growls in your ear tells you it’s all he wanted.
“Get these off darlin”
He pings the band of your pants against your skin before you shuffle around until they’re at your ankles, now completely bare; the fact that your back is to him is your saving grace. Alfie’s big hand is immediately back between your legs, index finger tracing patterns over the supple skin of your thighs trailing all the way back to your slit. He simply taps between your lips right where he expects your clit to be and hits the bullseye, chuckling at how you flinch. Untouched and unexplored: there’s nothing more sensitive than that.
His middle finger glides through your lips with ease, gathering the slick that has no choice but to spill out and make a mess, smearing it all over your thighs and leaving you dirty. It itches as it starts to dry from the heat but you daren’t move to scratch it. You can’t understand why he’s doing this to you in the first place, yet you let him anyway as you always do. Can't help but let him run wild around you like you’re still kids and he’s throwing sand at you knowing you won’t retaliate.
When he eventually moves to swipe over your clit, once, twice, and then a third, you push yourself so far back into him there’s no way you don’t wind him. It’s such a small touch in reality, but his thick, rough fingers and the fact you’ve never done this before tunes the pleasure so high you can’t help but try and scramble away. Obviously you don’t get very far. You’re noticeably a little distressed, so he decides to have mercy on you.
“Hey hey, just let it happen, I’m right here. It’ll feel good I promise you just have to let me”
He retracts his hand for a brief second to smother you in a hug, rubbing his hands over your ribs and shushing you in an attempt to soothe; to his credit, it does a lot.
“Just let me do this alright?”
Before you can truly catch your breath, he’s already back rubbing at that little nub with two fingers instead of one. You really can’t help how your legs thrash and the noises that fly from your mouth, your body not understanding what to do with itself with all this much concentrated sensation. Secretly, Alfie’s loving this: having to hold you down and listening to you whine, because he knows only he can do this to you. Only he will ever do this to you.
After a while, you calm down. Although you’re still whining breathily and you’re clawing at his bicep like a stray cat he doesn’t seem to mind. There’s a strange pull building in the pit of your belly and your legs are all tingly, but it’s weirdly nice.
His fingers then slide lower, and you start to panic again, because what possibly could he be doing now? Alfie has no choice but to stuff you full in one smooth movement, for he feared you might never let him. His fingers hook into your hole with an ease made only by how fucking wet you are despite the tightness of your virgin hole. It’s a miracle one even breached your slit. All the air is sucked out of your lungs as you feel his fingers ram inside a part of you you didn’t even know existed.
The warm feeling that had blanketed over you when he was playing with your bundle of nerves was now suffocating, hot all over and your blood fizzing in a way it’s never done before; every thought you might’ve had inside your head now punched right out. Alfie gives you a moment to adjust to having something inside you, knowing this was so so much for such a little thing — he can’t help the pity he has specifically reserved for you.
He gets impatient before you know it, even though you’re not ready. In reality, there wasn’t enough time in the world to get used to whatever he’s doing to you: you don’t know much, but you do know he probably shouldn’t have done that. But he does know best, right?
You feel him press against the front of your walls gently, over and over before combining that with a slow thrust up, seemingly finding that perfect spot inside you inhumanly quickly. This feeling is not quite like what touching your clit was, much deeper inside you and all-consuming. Every thrust inside you punched the air out of your lungs again and sent a spark rushing up your spine, your eyes rolling back into your head involuntarily and your jaw hanging open. It feels unexpectedly good, and you start to wonder why you’ve never felt this way before if it’s so good. Why were you missing out?
And then it was all gone again. You whine out at the loss, already missing all that good feeling in your belly and the way your head swam — as soon as you felt a gush of wind from your fan on your clit it was like abruptly coming up for air after drowning for hours. Alfie simply shushes you.
“You just gotta trust me sweetheart”
You’re shoved forwards out of his lap and instead between his legs on the bed, grool dripping on the mattress and leaving a stain immediately. He’s moving around behind you and you can hear fabric being pulled, but he doesn’t let you look. Every time you try to turn your head he immediately turns it back to facing forward. It makes you a little upset, because even though none of this makes any sense, you don’t like being kept in the dark too much.
“Alf what’re you doing?”
He starts pulling you back into his lap, manoeuvring your legs so you’re kneeling over him instead of sitting. As you settle onto your knees, you’re tickled by his leg hair, which is when you realise his shorts are gone. Alfie grabs your wrists together in one hand so you can’t get away, already anticipating the kind of fight you might put up when he gets to the real deal because if two of his fingers had you like that, his cock will surely kill you.
“Just let me darlin’, I know what’s best for you, don’t I?”
He plants a sweet kiss on your shoulder that you didn’t expect, marking the end of his kindness. With your hands in his grip and arm wrapped you, he pulls you back until your ass is hovering over his cock in his other hand, and strokes himself over a couple of times. Never needs much to get him worked up around you; the sight of you is enough foreplay to last him a century. He pulls you further until the tip of his member is sucked between your folds, and glides it over your clit and back again, lubing himself up with your wetness. It’s a little hard to get a smooth hump through your lips though because as soon as it makes contact with your pussy you start thrashing around.
“Alfie what on earth are you doing?”
He tries his best to hold you still with one hand, but you’re so desperate to get away and scared he’s somehow losing to you. Really, he doesn’t have a choice but to spank you.
“Calm the fuck down, I know what I’m doing”
When you’ve stopped moving, he slides the tip until it’s aligned with your hole and starts gently pulling you down on it; immediately you’re trying to get away again.
“Alf it hurts it’s too much”
Alfie ignores you, continuing to pull you down on his cock, although with great effort considering your movements. He gets just the tip in before the waterworks set off, a pitiful little sob escaping your lips and tears streaking your face matching the sweat on your forehead. He knows he’s way too big for you, should’ve sorted you out properly beforehand but how can he have any impulse control when you’re sat around like that?
“Alf I can’t take it out…please”
He pulls you down until he’s nestled so deep inside you that you can’t bear to move. Your walls are sucking him in like a vice; he’s never felt anything so dizzying in his life.
“God, can’t believe I kept you waiting sweetheart, always knew this was what we needed”
You can’t think, you can’t breathe, let alone understand what he’s slurring into the back of your head. The pain of your muscles stretching around him is hot and heavy, but there’s a certain pleasure deep inside that you almost want to chase. You clench your pelvic muscles involuntarily and Alfie grunts loudly from behind — you kind of want to hear it again, but you don’t know why.
“Gonna fuck you, show you what a nice girl gets when they’re good”
Good at what? You’ll never know. With a hand wrapped around your hip now his cock is steady inside you, he lifts your hips until the tip just barely catches on the rim and slams you back down. The sizzle in your belly as his tip hits somewhere deep inside is like fireworks exploding all over, and as he pulls you up and down again and again, those same fireworks reignite with it. It’s all so much that you almost don’t want it.
“Alfie, Alfie you gotta stop I feel weird”
You can’t see the smirk that stretches across his face, but it’s there. Knowing he’s got you right there on the edge that quickly is an unnecessary ego boost he’ll take gladly. Just further proves how untainted you are, really. You’re struggling to get out of his grip again, convinced something's wrong but you have no idea if you’re going to pee, pass out or be sick. Maybe all three.
“Let it happen sweetheart, just means you’re happy, yeah?”
What choice do you have but to follow his orders and believe him? He continues slamming you down on him, bucking his hips up and meeting in the middle when you start to properly panic, sobs getting caught in your throat again and pleading with him to stop. But he’s relentless, knows you’re about to gush all over him and it’s all he’s ever wanted. Something snaps inside you, and this zap of lightning floods your body and every inch of your skin, throbbing intensely between your legs and drool dripping down your chin.
“That’s it, good girl”
His words send an extra flash of pleasure through your cunt, muscles clenching on him once again and oh there is that beautiful groan from his mouth.
“Got you to cum for me darlin’, felt good didn’t it”
With nothing left in you to speak, you hum into the air.
“Told you, just have to listen to Alfie don’t you?”
Alfie doesn’t wait for an answer before returning to that vicious pace he had you in, having only slowed down to let you really feel what an orgasm was like. The moans you let out gave him a fresh need to fuck you harder, cum deep inside you and claim you as his. He couldn’t let another man ever hear you like that.
You don’t think he’ll keep going after everything you’ve just experienced. It felt like the finish line, that that’s what you’ve been chasing this whole time — but maybe you’re wrong about that. After a couple of seconds though, you realise you can’t just take it. You’re ever so sensitive from an orgasm and all this thrusting inside you the pleasure quickly faded to pain.
Alfie’s kissing over your shoulder again, all up your neck and even planting one on your cheek but the first ‘ow’ that slips your lips stops him in his tracks. You thought you could maybe just put up with it, let him do it because you believe he’s doing the right thing and you shouldn’t stop him, but it gets too much and you can’t stop yourself from expressing it.
“Sorry, sorry…don’t mean to hurt you darlin’”
Yet he keeps going.
“Just have to, yeah? Just have to let me”
His voice is strained as he nears his orgasm, struggling to form words himself but he does love you. Really doesn’t want to hurt you and even though he takes pleasure in how stupid you are, he’d hate to upset you.
Somehow, someway, the ever-increasing pain between your legs and the ache in your stomach had snapped back to the beginnings of those fireworks, the inklings of it just out of reach. When Alfie brings the hand holding your hip up to hold your throat and lay your head back on his shoulder, the band snaps.
“Fuck Alfie it’s... It’s happening again oh my god”
That’s what does it for him. Your walls clenching around him as you tumble into an orgasm for a second time, all from him, it’s really not his fault how he immediately heads straight into orgasm. His cum poured out in thick ropes right up against your cervix, painting the inside of you and tainting you for anyone else.
“Fuck you’re so good sweetheart, the absolute best…so good for letting me fuck you”
As soon as he stops thrusting into you, you collapse back into his chest breathless and a mess of limbs, head empty, weirdly grateful for whatever you’ve done to get here.
He’s never been so proud of a decision in his life.
first birthday celebration of the week done, had a fat indian dinner i did not have to pay for dad spilt beer all over my dress but i got a fresh vape so it’s all sick
