I had a fantasy once about being a spoiled rich brat whose Father was a big General and he had the seal team keep an eye on me when he was traveling I gave them such a hard time I kept running away from my hotel room they would find me drinking in their fav bar underage no less
Summary: Laying on Alfieās lap after lashing out on him.
A/n: Wrote this a while ago and decided to finally finish it so I hope youāll enjoy it. And as always if you do, Reblog are appreciated!
Youāre being a brat. You snapped at him. You said something you didnāt mean, trying to get a rise out of him but all Alfie does is sit there in that big chair of his, staring at you with those narrowed, knowing eyes, and with his arms crossed.
āMmhm. Yāfinished, darling?ā
That tone. Itās not meant to mock you. Itās worse. Itās calm and gentle. That terrifying stillness before the storm. Heās letting you hang yourself with your own rope. And when you storm off to your room in a huff, slamming the door like a child, he lets you go.
Because he knows than an hour later, you crawl back out, with guilt thick in your throat.
Heās still where you left him, big hands resting on his knees, beard a little messy, glasses halfway down his nose as he reads something heās not even really focused on. You drop to your knees in front of him, crawling in between his legs, resting your head gently on his lap.
āAlfieā¦Iām sorryā¦ā You said weakly.
He doesnāt speak for a moment. Just sets the book down and slips his hand into your hair. His fingers stroke your scalp and down to your neck
āYou done throwin your little tantrum there, sweetheart?ā
āYāfeel big now, talkin to me like that, do ya?ā He asked.
You nod against his thigh, trying not to sniffle.
āMm. Youāre not a nasty little thing, are ya? You just got a mouth on you sometimes, and no bloody idea what to do with it.ā
You tear up slightly at his words. The frustration from earlier and the guilt afterwards bubbled inside you.
āNo tears now. None of thatā He tuts. āDonāt start cryin cause youāre feelin guilty. You take it. Take the scolding, yeah? Lay there like a good girl and listen.ā
And you do. You stay quiet while he gently scolds you, with his low and disappointed voice, and his thick fingers still petting your hair. You feel small and safe. You nod when he tells you not to speak to him like that again.
āCause next time, Iāll bend you over my fuckin desk. Lecture you with my belt instead of my mouth, yeah?ā
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