#James R. Bowes | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

wosofutbolfan · 2 months ago

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Remember, Remember

Alexia Putellas x Explorer!R

Sometimes being in a relationship with someone from a different culture can be hard, but so worth it.

3rd part in the Explorer! Verse. Pt 1 and Pt 2 can be found here.

Fluff. 10k.

We're officially in October and the leaves are crunchy so we're here for the Autumnal vibes. Again, this is a complete vanity piece, and may only make sense to those Brits out there but should be readable to everyone. For those who don't know what Bonfire Night is, good ol' wiki can help, here.

People wanted more of the team involved so this is my attempt at that!

I'm trying to get into my short fluff era but here we are 10k words later. Honestly, those people who can write short, snappy pieces, take a bow.

3rd part in the Explorer! Verse. Pt 1 and Pt 2 can be found here. Again, all can be read alone but are better together.

For those interested, this is the song playing in my head when I wrote this. Did I mention my dreadful taste in music? James Blunt is king.

You threw another log on the fire and with a sigh, moved back and settled more deeply into the rattan furniture you were sitting on. You lay your head back and take in the stars scattered on a blanket of darkness above you, smoke plume rising gently and disappearing into the inky abyss.

With the crackle of the fire being the only soundtrack to your evening, you noted the changing of the season in the crunching of the leaves on the patio, and the lack of cicadas chirping which had become the soundtrack to your new life in Barna.

It had been a few months since your accident.

You called it an accident.

Alexia called it an inevitability.

She hadn’t quite shook off her anger whenever reminded of what happened. She would turn quiet and mutter in fast-catalan to herself, something you learnt she would only do if she was really annoyed and didn’t want you to understand her; “neu estúpida, que fins i tot necessita veure tanta neu de totes maneres”.

But you had learnt the best thing to do in these situations would be to bundle her into your chest and give her your previously injured hand which she seemed to find comfort in massaging, as though reminding herself that there was blood running through the veins.

You’d apologise, and you’d thank her over and over again.

You knew she was never angry, she was scared.

But, you’d both worked through her fear and your trauma, you’d mended physically and mentally. Both going to therapy, surprisingly, after Alexia has insisted on it.

The usually stern captain was a massive advocate of the counseling, finding it helped her during her injuries and time away from the pitch.

You needed more convincing, talking to strangers about feelings did not come naturally to your keep calm and carry on attitude.

You were much more inclined to put on Paddington 2, lay on Alexia's lap whilst she played with your hair and pretended that she didn't know you were crying.

But after one-too-many nights waking up with a start after feeling trapped by your blankets, or on one bad occasion, shoving your girlfriend out of bed when her arm slung across your stomach had felt like a vice suffocating you, you had agreed.

For her.

You’d do anything for her.

You knew Alexia was relieved, with the shadows disappearing from your eyes. She told you that you had your spark back.

You think she was just happy she didn’t have to keep being the small spoon.

She did miss Paddington 2 though. She loved that damn bear.

You both found your rhythm. And you settled into domesticity that you never expected to adore so much until you met the blonde and you know… almost died.

Alexia looked at you every day like she couldn’t believe you were standing in her kitchen, or settled onto her couch when she returned from training.

It melted your heart every time that look was directed your way, and it tugged on your heart strings when you imagined her coming home to an empty house when you were on an expedition, worried about if you were dead or alive.

You swore to yourself that you would never let that image become a reality again.

But.

You had itchy feet. Naturally. You hadn’t changed that fundamentally as a person, and you knew a jobless, housewife in a high-rise city centre apartment you were not.

So, one day, you had sat Alexia down and held her hands in yours, and told her you needed a job.

“You do not need a job mi amor! I look after us, and you stay safe, I like it. me gusta cuidarte.” she’d proudly exclaimed, practically puffing her chest out like a caveman. You couldn’t help but roll your eyes at her.

“Of course I need a job, love. I am not making a life of walking around Barna, watching football games and being a beach bum.”

“I like your beach bum.” she’d retorted, childishly whilst you swatted her wandering hands.

“I know you do bebe…” you’d straddled her lap then and looped your hands around her neck, playing with her baby hairs at the nape of her neck.

You knew she loved that.

That was confirmed as her eyes fluttered closed at your ministrations. “But I want to build a life here and I know what I want to do…”

“Yes Mi Amor, anything you like, I will help you. I have contacts. I will support you in what you chose.” she’d giddily replied, seemingly doing a 180 on your career decisions once she realised it was a part of you cementing a life in Spain.

“Well you know, I’m kinda really good at what I do…” you saw her face drop slightly, though she quickly recovered, “well… what I did… you know. And I still love it, that will never change even after… everything…” you felt her squeeze your waist tighter at that. “but my skills outdoors, survival, foraging, working knots…”

Well.

She couldn’t deny that. - you had accidentally become barca’s unofficial shoelace captain after you’d tied Mapis boots once for her when she’d dislocated her thumb, and they had to be cut off. Suddenly you had a whole teamload of girls queuing up for your services, headed by your girlfriend.

She was the only one who got a kiss on the knee as you finished up though.

Alexia immediately declared it a pre-match requirement.

“Si?” she asked, somewhat desperately.

“So I am thinking. I would like to join the British Army.”

A breath of silence, a beat, maybe not even more than 3 seconds until…

“Si crees que voy a aceptar que te unas al puto ejército, estás literalmente loco!, No, No, Absolutely not.” she was up now, you tossed aside as she started pacing… whilst you were on the couch…

Laughing your arse off.

“Que. What is so funny tu idiota?” she took a pause in her pacing, her stern face directed directly at you, hands raised in despair.

“I’m only joking Ale!” you giggled to yourself, wiping tears from your eyes. “Come get back here you big oaf.” you dragged her back into your embrace.

“You are not funny.” You could have camped on that bottom lip as she pouted.

“I am a little funny.” you'd bantered, showing a measurement of how funny you thought you were with your forefinger and thumb, which she pushed together with a huff.

But you noticed that she didn't let go of your hand.

Softie.

“Ok not funny my love I’m sorry. No, never the army. I do not want danger. Or travel for months at a time. That part of my life is over.”

“sí, lo es” she’d mumbled.

“But, I do still have the contact urge to be outdoors. To share what I know. To show people the world.” you spoke with so much passion that she couldn’t help but nod. It was that same spark that she fell in love with.

“So, I have spoken to Mario…”

A smile appeared on her face. God. She loved that guy. He was a lovable rogue and she loved when he and his tribe of kids would join you at games. Sometimes she’d secretly watch you from the tunnel play with them whilst you all waited for the game to start. It made her heart flutter as they clambered all over you.

“... and he’s up for it too. If we go into business together. Guided tours and expeditions. Like how we met. But permanently. It would be based here, in Spain, and obviously I would be travelling but no more than a week or two at a time, and it would all be very low level and safe. Nothing big…. But if it makes you un…”

You were abruptly stopped in your rambling by her lips on yours.

“You don’t have to ask my permission mi amor. But I support you. It sounds fantastic. Perfecta para ti.”

You knew she’d support you but you still felt like a weight had been lifted off your shoulders.

“... but not. Like… exactly like the trip we met on. No? No falling in love with other women, si?”

You’d burst out laughing at the ridiculousness of your girlfriend at that. “No, my love, never.” you’d muttered into her lips.

As you sit now, in your tree-lined garden on the southern edge of the Montseratt national park, only a short commute from estadi johan cryuff, you couldn’t really imagine a more perfect life.

You’d moved away from the city not long after you’d built your business. Turns out alot of people want a tour that a record-breaking explorer was running, and that's how Christopher Colum-Tours became a massive success.

You were booked for years in advance.

Mostly because you made sure you took so few, but well paying jobs. You thought the name was hilarious, when Alexia didn’t you were sure it was lost in translation.

She assured you it was not.

You’d mentioned it in passing to her that you needed more space to store all of your kit, but you didn’t expect her eyes to light up and to wake up the next day with 20 different house viewings booked.

She was literally buzzing with excitement, dragging you around Spanish villas on the edges of Barcelona, pointing out coving and brickwork. You'd never been fancy, you didn't care.

Until you walked into the last house on the list. And you knew you would build your life there.

It was on the southern edge of the national park, more modest than the others you had seen but views from the master balcony were endless and beautiful. It was surrounded by forest and its garden wasn’t as sculpted as you’d gotten used to in these multi million villas.

It was a wild garden with a natural-styled pool and a built-in fire pit.

It blended into the landscape it was built within.

Alexia has found you on the balcony, giddy about beams and authentic features, and all it had taken was one look in her eyes before she was squealing with glee “It's this one isn’t it amor!”.

Alexia had tried to pay outright cash. But you had refused. You both went on the mortgage and you loved that, that piece of paper connected you.

When you tried to explain that to her she’d lovingly rolled her eyes, “only you would see the good side to tens of hundreds of euros worth of debt and interest, Mi Amor.”

But you knew that meant she agreed. And she loved you.

So no, you couldn’t really understand the melancholy that was settling over you at the moment.

You’d just returned from a trip to England for your brother's birthday. Even though you now lived in Spain you’d been able to go to more family events than ever before, with your lack of travelling the world.

You made the journey across every few weeks, usually when Alexia was away with a game or the national team. And you’d loved being more dependable to your family, with your nieces and nephews, being a part of their growing up.

Maybe that's why you are a bit sad now. It's November 3rd. The Spanish air was crisp but you couldn’t see your breath in the air like you could in England. The smell was all forest and fresh air. The days are still bright. There wasn’t a lingering fog in the evenings, or the smell of burning sulphur with the symphony of rogue fireworks being set off until the early hours.

Because this week was your favourite week growing up.

Mischief week, the firemen who visited your school had called it.

The week between Halloween and Bonfire night when kids lost their minds, hyped up on sweets and adrenaline. Bonfire displays all around your village and fireworks bursting the sky into life. You’d go to the cricket club display every year, warmed by the bonfire and cider. You’d eat toffee apples and hotpot. You’d spend the rest of the week sitting in your living room with the lights off watching the sky light up.

Usually you didn’t even notice what you were missing out on. But you had a home now. And you felt a little sad to be missing out on the festivities that your family group chat was organising.

But Alexia had just returned from National Camp. And she was always a bit down when she returned. Even if she pretended not to be. So you wouldn’t have delayed your return to Spain for all of the world.

You’d picked her up from the airport in your battered truck that she pretended she hated, spent a cosy evening together sharing food and soft kisses.

She’d gone to wash the plane off her whilst you wandered to your favourite part of the house and built a fire.

You tried to not drown in your own melancholy as you stared skywards. You heard the sliding of the patio door and you didn’t need to open your eyes to imagine your girlfriend making her way out to you. Cup of tea in one hand and ginger tea in the other. Scuttling barefoot with a blanket draped over her head adorably, muttering about you insisting on being outside.

And when you felt a warm mug pressed into your hands you knew your image had been correct, you couldn’t hide your shy smile as you felt a kiss being dropped to your neck as she settled on the other side of the garden furniture, legs draped into your lap. You enjoyed the warmth of her legs as you continued to look skyward.

You didn’t realise how much time had passed until you felt Alexia sit up next to you and stroke your hair behind your ear.

“¿Qué pasa mi amor?” she’d whispered into the silence of the evening. You turned your head towards her, “Nothing, love, sorry I was just in my own world for a second there.” you smiled at her, reassuringly.

“en tu propio mundo…” she muttered to herself, struggling for a moment with the translation. “Ah, well. I thought so, usually I don't need to even think it before you’re massaging my knee, I was practically kicking you there carino and nothing.” she’d laughed lightly, as you flicked her playfully on the nose, whilst still moving your spare hand under the blanket and digging into the flesh of her calf, glad she’d asked for what she wanted.

“Let me in ti mundo, mi amor. What's on your mind.” she asked, lovingly, whilst laying back down, suppressing a groan as your hands manipulated the tissue around her knee cap, digging into the tightness that you found there with practised ease.

“Nada, soy buena.” you’d replied, purposefully timing your reply with a particularly satisfying knead just under her kneecap, making the beautiful blonde groan loudly, “Shhh, Ale. You don’t want to give the neighbours a show.”

She lightly kicked out at you at your teasing comment, rolling her eyes, “We don’t have any neighbours idiota, unless you count that molesta goat that you insist on feeding when he turns up in the garden.”

“His name is Billy and he’s my friend. You keep Billy out of this.” you allow a beat of silence, “And he’s not a goat he’s a mountain goat, he’s manly, don’t upset him…” you raise your voice “Billy if you’re listening ignore her she’s being mean!... Hey! Ale stop kicking me! I am not a ball.”

“You're trying to distract me.” she says, plainly. “What are you thinking?”, the way her eyes look at you with so much love stops any lie that was on the tip of your tongue.

“It’s silly…” another huff from the side of you, “I’m just missing home a little but thats all.” you admit, and her face drops. “No, not home, sorry, England. Home is here with you. Obviously.” you panic, you don’t want to upset her, Alexia is home.

You don’t know what's come over you but you can’t stop speaking,

“It’s just this time of year, it's my favourite time of year that's all. I never missed it when I was away, I didn’t have time to. But now I feel so at home here. With you. That it just feels a bit weird to not be doing what I did growing up and if we had kid…” you stop yourself, eyes widening.

Her smile is breathtaking. Her eyes light up and it's all teeth. But she gives you an out.

“And what would you usually be doing at this time of year, mi amor?” she asks,

“You know… Remember, Remember, the 5th of November…” you trail off, speaking in that rhythmic way British school kids are taught. Her blank expression makes you continue “...gunpowder, treason and plot. No? Really? I’m sure I was taught he was Spanish.”

“Amor, you are speaking in riddles. Help me here.” she asks, with a laugh teasing her lips.

“It's Bonfire Night, Guy Fawkes Night, Fireworks Night… whatever you call it.”

“I think Amor, we call it a Thursday Night.”

“Oh. Yeah, no of course. Sorry.”

“Why are you apologising to me? Tell me about it. Tell me what you’d be doing.” she asks, so genuinely that it cracks your heart wide open.

So you do, you tell her.

You tell her all about what you were taught in school. About Guido and his gang of conspirators, about parliament, about gunpowder and about the plan to blow up the King. You tell her about hanging, drawing and quartering, laughing at her squeamishness. You feel yourself getting giddy as you wrack the corners of your brain trying to remember all of the story you were brought up on.

You tell her about penny for a guy, about kids sitting outside shops with their effigies for pennies, you tell her about your dad setting off fireworks in your street, almost blowing himself up, and then your mum insisting you go only to the official bonfire at the cricket club from that year onwards and watch the effigy being burnt on the enormous fire.

Alexia listened with rapt attention, and as you stopped for breath she spoke; “esperar, esperar, so let me get this correcta. Some guy 500 years ago tried to blow up cortes generales, so they graphically and publicly murdered him… and you celebrate that, as a country every year, by… kids begging and burning him on a fire you all go stand around?... In November?”

“Si.” you reply, with a smile and a nod, eyes moving back skywards.

“Estás todo loco” she laughs.

And you suppose it is. A bit mad, when you think about it really. But you were feeling a bit sensitive and a bit… mocked?

You felt like how you feel when someone would name-call your brother on the playground. You can do that. He’s your brother. But someone else can’t. Because that's your brother.

Alexia can’t mock your traditions. They’re yours. God knows you’d bit your lip throughout all of hers. I mean. If you could get through the explanation of a literal model of a pooping Alexia on your Nativity last year you felt like maybe she would get this. You even graciously accepted your own Canager from Eli with a smile.

You took a moment, a deep breath, you knew you were being sensitive, out of character.

You knew usually you’d join in with her laughter, maybe tickle her and have a fake argument about it just as an excuse to make up. But you weren’t really feeling it today.

“Well, let’s agree to disagree, yeah?” you turned and smiled, you moved her trouser leg back down under the blanket, gave her knee a pat and moved her legs off you to stand. Whilst she looked up at you in bewilderment, with wide, curious eyes.

“I’m gonna get to bed love, I’m really tired all of a sudden, going to get my head down before I wake myself up again, you okay sorting the fire and locking up?”

She nodded, lost for words for a moment, practically having whiplash at the mood swing. You didn’t let Alexia lock up, or sort the fire. They’re your jobs. Always have been. Keeping you both safe. So she knew you were upset.

“Amo…” she started but she heard the patio door slide closed and moved to throw some sand onto the fire. She noticed your mug of tea on the arm of the sofa where you’d been sitting.

And when she saw that it was still half full she knew.

She’d fucked up.

—-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

“....and then she said, estemos de acuerdo en no estar de acuerdo, and went to bed! And Mapi. She left her tea!” Alexia explained, desperately to her best friend, the next morning at training.

“...It’s only tea Ale.” Mapi tried to reassure her, “It means nothing amiga I am sure.”

“No, you don’t understand. And she was asleep when I went to bed and it wasn't even 10 minutes later. And then this morning, she was still asleep. She’s never still asleep. You know her Maps, she's up with the sun and…” the midfielder lowered her voice further,

“she always makes me a coffee with the cute foam heart and she didn’t but maybe she’s just tired, I thought, but then I looked and I saw she must have been up that morning because there was food out in the garden for that stupid goat… so was she pretending to be asleep to not speak with me?”

Alexia's voice got more and more panicked as she rambled on.

Mapis' heart melted for her friend, the panic in her face reminded her of the Ale who used to pace the changing rooms with her phone cemented to her hand waiting for word from you. Of the Alexia who missed games because she made herself sick with worry that you were dead somewhere. She hadn’t seen this Ale for a while. She needed to help.

“Keira! Come here!” Mapi shouted over to the red haired midfielder.

“Mapi! Shh. Don’t! What are you doing!” Alexia hissed,

“I think this is a British problem, Ale, we need an expert.”

“Well, why shout across the room? Lucy is standing right there.” Alexia pointed to the defender who was currently pretending her shin pads were lightsabers.

“Lucy thinks she’s Spanish.”

Alexia hummed.

Fair point.

“What's up guys? Skip? Why do you have that face on?”

“Say the thing Capi. You know… the spell thing.” Mapi painfully nudged her captain in the ribs… “Que?... Oh…. Remember Remember the 5th of November....”

“Gunpowder, treason and plot, I see no reason, why gunpowder treason, should ever be forgot. Yeah? Why are we doing nursery rhymes” Keria recited, without a pause. Looking at them both, curiously.

“See it is a thing!” Alexia exclaimed, hitting Mapi over the head, “tell her what happened Capi.” Mapi asked, as Keira settled between the two.

As her story came to a close Alexia began to finish up… “and then she said we should ‘agree to disagree’” at this Keria winced but gestured for her skipper to carry on “...and then she went to bed but didn’t finish her tea.” Keira audibly groaned at that, moving to grab the taller girl's shoulder.

“Sorry Skip, In British ‘agree to disagree’ means, ‘I’m really upset but I don’t want to talk about it’ and well… I think it's a crime to leave a cup of tea. She must have really wanted to get out of there.”

“But why! I don’t know what I did!” the blonde groans into her hands.

“We’ll figure it out, amiga” Mapi reassured her, rubbing her back sympathetically.

“Erm…” Keria looked up, unsure.

“What?” Alexia's head shot up, looking at her teammate.

“I don’t want to talk out of turn Skip.. but…”

“No, go on, help me, please. What did I do?” Alexia asks, desperately.

“You can be... Well... You can all be… a bit. Catalan?”

“Que?!” the captain exclaimed, “What does that mean? I am Catalan!”

“No, No I know. And it's not a bad thing. But. You know, there's a lot. A lot to remember, Saint Jordi, all the pan con tomate…the loud dinners, the touching, the human towers… the fire-devil thing. And it's great! I love it! I respect it, And I know she does too but…”

“But…?” Mapi and Alexia ask together, looking everything like school children at a lesson, pencils poised.

“But. And I am just guessing here…”

“Speak Keira or I will make you run laps.” the captain threatens.

“Maybe, you could… you know… try a bit… and I mean… a little bit. With some English things?” she finishes her sentence as a question, nervous to criticise her well-respected captain in any way.

“What do you mean! I do! I respect her! And all her things!”

“I know it's not on purpose Ale. But how would you feel if she said Sainte Jordi was silly.”

“It’s not silly! It's special, Mi Papi used to get me and Alba a rose every year and I still remember it now. I love doing it every year. It makes me feel… oh.”

“Yeah. And you know, me and Lucy come round for Sunday roast every month and you always go out.” she’d started now so she supposed, in-for a penny in for a pound, “and when she put an orange in your stocking at Christmas you laughed and told her it was a bad football and kicked it at her.”

Alexia looks at her teammate, cluelessly, whilst Mapi sniggers behind her hand,

“Alexia, It’s an English thing. Oranges don’t grow in England. They used to be a luxury so people would give them at Christmas to people they love. Like a sign of sharing?...and on pancake day you told her it went against your diet plan…”

“Didn't she literally fell a tree last year to make you your own Caga Tio? She asked me where Onas was from, I said Amazon and I'm fairly sure she thought I meant the rainforest…” Lucy joined in on the salt being rubbed into the enormous wound party that Alexia didn't even know she was hosting.

“Okay, Okay, I get it.” The captain said. Raising her hand. She felt terrible. She did go out on what she’d dubbed ‘English-Night’ when Keira, Lucy and sometimes Ona would invade her kitchen and cook weird food and watch English TV shows.

But she thought you'd want to enjoy your evening in English without her. And the pancake thing… well. It did go against her diet plan.

You never said it was a tradition.

She would have made an exception.

She'd do anything for you.

You happily went along with all of her things, she had never even told you about Caga Tio, you'd found out on your own and done such an incredibly sweet thing that Alexia had cried and slept with it next to her side of the bed for a week.

Not that she'd tell her teammates that.

She hadn’t realised you’d been trying to share your traditions with her and she’d been closing it down.

“Why didn’t she say anything?” Alexia asks helplessly,

“Because she loves you, and she doesn’t care as long as you’re happy I suppose… and also… because she’s English.”

This made her roll her eyes in frustration.

She felt ignorant.

She would fix this.

“Mapi, I need your help.”

—--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

You’d managed to shake off your little moodswing by the early afternoon.

You’d spent the morning answering a few work emails and planning a few new routes. As you set off for your run you felt noticeably brighter, calculating that if you did a bit of a longer run than usual then Alexia should be back home when you returned.

Sometimes you did that on purpose, and went on a longer run so she would be home when you got back. Like when you go to the toilet in a restaurant and you're excited when your meal is at the table when you return.

A little treat for yourself.

God you had it bad.

You really wanted to spend time with your girlfriend, you felt a little bad about your moodiness and you wanted to make it up to her.

So when you got home from your trail run to a driveway with just your truck in it you tried to keep the sadness down. Training must have gone on this afternoon, sometimes that happened.

By the time early evening rolled around, you got a bit concerned, just as you picked up your phone it vibrates in your hand.

sorry Mi Amor, training turned into watching film, I will eat with Mapi at the canteen, see you soon, love you, miss you xx

You let out a little huff of annoyance to yourself. It's not Alexia's fault that you wasted your time together yesterday being moody. It's not her fault she's stuck at work.

At least her version of being stuck at work isn't being trapped under a mountain of snow and slowly dying.

Your little internal monologue of darkness makes you chuckle to yourself but your attention is grabbed by a knock on the front door.

“Hola Chica!!!”

You suddenly have a facefull of hair and are pulled into the bosom of a very loud and excitable Alba Putellas.

“Hi Alba! What are you doing here?” you ask, trying to not be rude but also wondering what has dragged the famously city-slicking younger Putellas out into the sticks.

“Que? Can a girl not come and spend the evening with their future cuñada? What's with the million questions hermana!” she blusters past you and into the entryway, leaving you standing with your mouth hanging open at the door as she settles into your sofa.

“... I asked one question” you mumbled to no one as you closed the door with the tornado now inside your home.

You explained that Ale was stuck at work, but Alba dismissed your apologies with a flick of her hand. “I'm not here for her, I’ve spent too much time with her, I think we should spend the evening together. Hermana to future Hermana.”

“Erm… sure.” You got on well with Alba. You got on well with all of Ales' family. They;d welcomed you as one of their own immediately. Eli had taken a vested interest in “getting you back up to strength” after your accident. That mainly consisted of not letting you leave the dinner table until eating 3 full plates of paella.

Usually though, Alba could be found in the bars of Barna, not in your living room, and you had a feeling that she knew Alexia was stuck at work. Which meant that Ale had sent her to spend the evening with you. And you hadn’t gotten away with your melancholy without her notice yesterday like you hoped you had.

Still, the thought of her sending her sister to keep you company warmed your heart.

Hours later your stomach hurt from laughing so much, and you felt ill with the amount of food you’d consumed. You and Alba had spent the evening watching telenovelas and cackling at the erratic storylines. Alba would insist every character was gay and you would nearly wet yourself with laughter when in 4 episodes she was proven right.

It's late when you hear the door slam in the hallway, you glance up at the clock and see its later than you even imagined.

“Hola cariño!” Alexia yells from the hall, and you can hear her shoes being kicked off and bag being shoved into the hall cupboard.

“Hola, my love!” Alba mocks back, voice high pitched and sounding resolutely nothing like yours.

You shove her by her shoulder as you rise to greet your girlfriend.

“Hola, my love.” you repeat as you greet her, settling into her open arms and nuzzling into her neck dropping a kiss against her warm skin you find there.

You take a deep breath of the taller woman. “Ale… why do you smell like… onions?” you ask, curiously.

“Vale, vale, I am going to bed before the show starts.” Alba interrupts as Alexia separates herself from you in order to reach across and slap her sister's head.

“Oh, Si? Si Alba, of course you can stay over. Thank you for asking.” she shouts sarcastically at her sisters retreating from. Grumbling to herself as she turns back to her.

“Oh behave you big grump you love it when she stays over.” you whisper, falling into her arms again, settling into her warmth. “Long day?”

You feel the tension leave her body now she's home. “Si… we got lots done though,”

“Good. Feel ready for the weekend then?” you ask, she had a game on Saturday and you know she preferred to be over prepared.

“The weekend?”

“Si, the game? Seville?” you ask, with a laugh to your voice. She must be tired.

“Oh, si, sorry, of course. I am tired mi amor. Yes. I feel ready.” she replies, moving to face you more closely, large hand cupping your cheek and dropping a quick kiss to your lips.

She moves away but you aren’t finished. You've had a long day of missing your girlfriend. And you pull her closer and deepen the kiss, moulding your lips to hers and groaning when she accepts your tongue in her mouth. As you break apart for breath you hear her mutter a little ‘wow’, which melts your heart.

Seriously, only your world famous, drop dead gorgeous, professional footballing girlfriend can get so worked up over some heavy petting.

It's her turn to pull your lips back together and you enjoy swapping sweet kisses before you pull apart… “Al…” she's moved down to your neck… “Ale… why do you taste like… pepper?”

“Huh?” you can’t see her face as she continues to press kisses down your neck. “Don’t know what you’re talking about amor.” she seems to have decided she's finished with your neck for now as she takes a step back.

“I better go wash the day off me. Meet you in bed?” she asks, and who are you to refuse as you nod your agreement and start to tidy the living room as she leaves for upstairs.

“Hey?” you look up and she's popped her head back into the living room, “I missed you today.” she says, simply. Cheeky smile on her face.

Alexia was the most intelligent and complex woman you knew. But sometimes her ability to be so simple was the thing that made you fall so deeply in love with her. She missed you, so she told you.

“I missed you too, love.” you reply, softly.

She smiles satisfied, and moves from the doorway again. For 3 seconds until she reappears.

“Don’t go to sleep til I’m there por favor, I want to fall asleep together.” you feel your blush start to creep up your neck and open your mouth to reply before,

“Ay dios mio, perdedora! It's a shower, you aren’t going to drown. How do either of you get anything done!” Alba shouts from the top of the stairs, and your girlfriend's head quickly disappears again, before you hear a scream and the thunder of her scaling the stairs…

“vuelve aquí diablo!”

—-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

You drummed your fingers on the steering wheel as you waited for your girlfriend outside of the training buildings. It wasn’t usual but she’d asked you to pick her up that morning.

As you’d passed her her morning coffee (foam art included), she’d taken a moment longer than usual giving you a soft morning kiss and breathing you in before she asked you to keep the afternoon free.

“I want to take you on a date, Mi Amor.” she’d mumbled, cutely, “Alba will take me back into the city, then you can pick me up after your session at the school, dress warm.”

“I haven’t said yes yet!” you’d teased, with a roll of your eyes, “and hey, what they say is true, el romance esta muerto! I am picking you up for a date you asked me on! Tut. Ale. You used to be suave.”

“soy muy suave.” she’d confidently replied. “You’ll see on our date… that you’re picking me up for”.

A cheeky smile and a pat on the bum later she’d chased Alba out of the house, and suddenly you felt like you were watching the vision that Eli had grown old too.

Two bickering Putellas sisters acting like teenagers on their way to the school bus, hitting each other and Alba chasing Alexia down the drive after one kick too many.

So, you’d done as you were told and after your talk with 28 school kids about basic survival skills here you find yourself patiently waiting for your girlfriend.

The door to the training facility opened and you were surprised to see Alexia emerge bundled up in far too many layers and knit hat cutely adorned on her head. She really was adverse to the cold. Usually she’d be the last to leave training, insisting on a team talk or taking extra free kicks, but she searched the car park eagerly and eyes lit up as she took you in in your beat up old blue pickup truck.

The next surprise she gave you was when she didn’t hurry to the passenger seat, instead making her way to your window and, when you didn’t move, knocking on it with a rap of her knuckles. You roll the window down with a quick of your eyebrow.

“Can I help you señora?” you ask, “Si, mover… por favour. I am driving.”

The absurdity of her comment makes you bark out a laugh, but you do as your told,

“Ale, you hate my truck.”

“I have never said that.”

“Yes you have. One million times. ‘Mi Amor, your truck brings our house price down.’...’Amor, your truck is warming the planet. I thought you liked trees.’...”Amor, your truck is so loud that I think a dinosaur is coming up the driveway…” you imitate, crudely but with a gentle laugh.

She just fixes you with a stern eye as she turns the key, a large grinding sound coming from the engine.

“In gear please Ale!”..."Ah, Si.” followed by the successful roar of the engine.

“Remember love, she doesn't have any heated seats, we listen to my Beatles CD cause its stuck in the player, and the gearbox is a little worn so please… be gentle”

“Weird, usually you aren’t asking me to be gentle.” she dryly replies, eyebrow arched and make you blush. She moves her hand to your thigh and you take it in both of yours as she asks about the school you spoke in, she listens with rapt attention and you bask in the way her eyes light up when she tells you about how Jana finally mastered a trick she’d been working on.

You’d gotten so lost in conversation and checking out your hot girlfriend that you’d forgotten to check your destination until you felt the truck come to a halt.

As you looked around you saw you were in a small car park, a familiar style building imposing in front of you.

A stadium.

You can’t help but be a little disappointed, if Ale’s idea of date night had transformed into football games then you may as well start just going to training with her to keep your romantic life alive.

“Oh. Lovely.” you’d hoped you’d infused as much enthusiasm into your tone as you could. Just happy to spend time with the blonde. “Who’s playing?”

“Barca.” she’d replied, getting out of the car and hurrying to your door, all the while holding her hand up as she hurried past the bonnet indicating to you that she wanted to open it.

She’d taken your hand in her large one and started to walk towards the stadium, you looked around and took in a few people milling about, some with unrecognisable kit on.

You don’t know if a temporary deafness had taken over your girlfriend but she ignored you as she pulled you towards the turnstiles. It was a much smaller stadium than your girlfriend usually played at, and it was quick to get into the grounds.

“Ah, gran admirador?” the steward asked, as he pointed at your trusty blaugrana laces, and you just smile and nod, no idea what's going on.

As you looked up you were at pitch level and you saw a familiar sight of… ‘H’ shaped sticks? You almost broke your own neck at the speed at which you spun to look at your girlfriend who was staring at you with a Cheshire cat grin splitting her face.

“We’re here to watch Rugby!” she practically cheers, clearly very happy with herself.

You’d always used it as a weapon to tease your football-obsessed captain-girlfriend with, that you had been brought up on Rugby. Your brother played and you’d spend weekends down at the Rugby Club cheering on at the side lines. Your dad followed the town team religiously and you’d been dragged down to London more than once for cup finals.

As your world got bigger your love for the game diminished but the familiar smell of tiger balm and clack of metal studs always managed to make you feel 9 again down at the local rugby club.

You felt a childlike giddiness erupt from your stomach as you took in your glowing girlfriend. “Ale, this is… this is…” you feel a bit emotional as you struggle to get your words out, your girlfriend saves you.

“Vamos! Let's go find the best place to watch!” Alexia drags you into the small stands which are sparsely occupied.

“I didn’t even know Barcelona had a rugby team…” you say as you take your seat,

“Si, they do. They were promoted in 2006 but have been struggling since… they are currently 4th in the league though and today they’re playing 3rd so it…”

You interrupt your girlfriend by pressing a kiss to her lips, unable to stop your affection as you realise how much she had researched for you. “Te amo.” you mutter into her lips. You open your eyes before her and see her sit with her eyes closed for a moment, smile teasing on her lips, dazed.

“yo también te amo cariño” she replies, opening her eyes, “now come, watch. They're kicking off.”

You thoroughly enjoy yourself for the next 80 minutes. You realise that you have never watched a sports game with Alexia. Usually watching her or if she wasn’t playing she’d be sat on the bench with the team.

She’d usually be too invested and serious to have a fun time. But here, without being impacted by the outcome, nor really having any idea what was going on. Alexia was clearly having the time of her life.

She was giving off serious big dick energy, sitting in her plastic chair like she owned the stadium, legs spread wide and ankles hooked as she took in the pitch before her. Alexia wasn’t into PDA, however, here she pulled you close to her as though you were in your living room, clearly happy that she wouldn’t be bothered by anyone at a sparsely populated Rugby game.

“Amor, comer aqui. Explain this to me… “ she'd gestured to the pitch before her with one hand and pulled you closer with the other, draping both of your legs over one of hers so your legs dangled between hers, and you sat sideways facing her as she rested her arm around your shoulders.

You tried to ignore the feel of her strong thigh muscle underneath yours. Noticeable even though two sets of heavy clothing.

She started to play with the baby hairs at the nape of your neck as you tried to explain a scrum, mauls and drop kicks.

But you found yourself watching her side profile more than the game, her sharp jaw, the curve of her eyebrow. How cute she looked in her little barca beanie, eyes bright with excitement.

She gives your hair a little tug, “Mira el juego bebe…” she mutters, eyes still looking forward but a grin teasing her lips, “...I paid a good €8 for these tickets.”

You laugh and concentrate on the game before you, laughing at Alexia's commentary throughout, ‘you can use your hands! How is it even that hard!’ until a big hit where she would recoil into herself and muttered ‘nevermind’.

She would cheer every time someone kicked the ball and when you got into the game and shouted “Offside ref!!” she hushed you and insisted that it wasn’t, until you explained the offside rule was different and her mind nearly exploded.

It was a close game and you found yourself sucked in.

Becoming more animated until the final play of the game, Barca had possession and you couldn’t help it when you stood up and shouted, “stick it up your jumper… go on… RUN….ooooh!”, you looked down and saw Alexia looking up at you with wide eyes, a teasing glint in them, you grew flushed and sat down tentatively, “Amor, I have never seen you so… aggressive… I like it.” she decided, smirk on her lips.

Barca ended up losing but it didn’t take away any of the shine from the day, as you left the stadium you swung your hands between your bodies with excitement, “Ale, that was the best surprise date ever. Thank you.”

You noticed that a look you didn’t recognise flashed across her face as she opened the door for you, guiding you into the passenger seat with a kiss.

“Can we go to Casa Pepe for some dinner?” you ask, looking out of the window and taking in the darkened sky, “No.” she replied, which caused you to turn, and you saw a wry grin on her face, “date isn’t over yet amor, I have plans on plans. Sit back and enjoy the ride.”

Alexia then goes onto stall the truck and take off to a stuttering start, and because she was being so sweet you didn’t say anything but looked out of the window to hide your face.

“Shut up.” she chides anyway.

—-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

You’re confused as Alexia drives your truck off road and onto a beach just outside the main area of Barcelona. You see fairy lights in front of you and a huddle of cars and people milling around.

“What's going on Ale?” you ask, trying to take in the look on her face in the darkness of the cab of your truck as she reverses into a semi-circle with some other cars.

She doesn’t have a chance to answer before you are startled by a knock on your window and Mapis' face pressed against the glass with glee.

“You’re here! You’re here! Finally… Capi, can we start it now pleaaaase….” Mapi is silenced by her girlfriend who has made her way over and pulled her from the window. “Give them a second kjære, come, I need your help over here…” and Ingrid winks at you as she leads her excitable puppy of a girlfriend away.

You remain not having any clue about what the hell is going on.

Alexia has slipped out of the truck and moved around to your side, opening the door and you spin on the bench, widen your legs, and pull her between them.

She looks at you with a wide, open expression.

“Remember, Remember, the 5th of November…” she starts, which immediately causes the penny to drop, as you look to the scene on the beach before you.

A large unlit bonfire stands a safe distance from the trunk of your car, you continue to look around and see Eli ordering around most of Alexias team mates and even some backroom staff you recognise from the training grounds, as she stands in charge of what seems to be a crudely put together buffet table. Illuminated by fairy lights you see pots of steaming food which she stirs intermittently.

You even spotted Mario with his newly pregnant (again!) wife and his tribe of kids playing with a small football alongside Jana and Marta.

You can’t help the tears that come to your eyes at the scene before you.

“I am so grateful for you Amor…” she starts, “You have fit so well into my family and life that maybe I missed some things about your family and life…”

“No Ale.”

“No it’s okay, I know you love me. But I wanted to do this for you. But then… well. It escalated. I asked Keira and Lucy for help but then they got so excited about bonfire night that they kind of invited themselves, and then one person turned into another… and then, as soon as Mapi found out there were explosives and fire I couldn’t keep her away. And well, Ingrid had to come because she has a vested interest in keeping Mapis fingers attached to her body. And well. At that point it had got so big that I just invited anyone from the club who wanted to come, and their families. I hope you don’t mind.”

“Of course I don’t mind! This is the sweetest thing in the world… Is that…” you sniff up… “hotpot?!”

Alexia soon became old news as you scurried over to Eli and the food table, kissing her in greeting and falling into her embrace, there were bubbling pots of Chilli, Hotpot, Mushy Peas and even a tray of toffee apples.

Ingrid had come over and presented a tray of parkin that she had baked, beautifully presented in the elegant way that only the Norwegian could. “I hope this is right, I googled it and Mapi taste tested it and she was happy, but honestly, she’s happy if I give her dog food so i’m not sure she's the best judge.”

“Ingrid it’s perfect.” you assured her, the grin breaking your face convincing her more than your words.

“Can we set the fire yet!” Mapi had shouted across the set up, bottle of accelerant in hand that she had been spraying onto the pile of dried wood. A somewhat maniacal look on her face.

One of the physios took the bottle from her hand gently and pushed her towards Ingrid, taking over the situation when he recognised there was a chance the whole beach was going up in flames if she was left in charge.

As the fire grew and grew, everyone's faces were bathed in the golden light. The chill was still in the air and you felt a large puffy jacket being slung around your shoulders. Alexia standing behind you, resting her chin on your head as you settled back into her.

“Ale. Is that Guy wearing a Real Madrid jersey?” you asked, amused, as you noticed that the traditional effigy had a familiar football shirt on.

“Don’t know what you’re talking about, amor.” she replied, laughter in her voice. Before you had a chance to tease her further she pinched your hips, “come on, lets get some food! I’m starving, and all this brown British mushy food smells so good…”

Well. At least she was trying.

You ate and ate, you don’t think you’ve ever been as full in your life. Alexia had spent all the evening before perfecting her hotpot recipe with the help of Eli and it was good.

She’d even shown you the burn marks on her fingers where the hot toffee from the toffee apples has caught on her skin.

Eli told you how Alexia had turned up at her house with Mapi, arms full of ingredients needing help to make traditional foods, which she then stressed over for the rest of the evening, whilst Mapi paced the kitchen, talking to her ‘fireworks guy’, because of course Mapi had a man with explosives on speed dial.

You’d told the story of Guy Fawks to an intrigued Irene, Mateo happily munching on a sticky apple on her knee. “Ah, I see… It feels like a cold San Juan. I like it” she’d declared, with an air of finality.

“So… they’re like, guisantes but… pulposa?” you overheard Parti asking Keria, as the ginger was gladly wolfing down a portion of mushy peas. “Yeah! Try them… you’ll love them.”

As a second passes before you hear a distinctive gag and Kerias laughter echoing around you think maybe Patri did not love them. Ona greedily scoffed her own portion down with Lucy looking on, proudly, “Te acostumbras amiga” she jeered towards her retreating friend, who went in search of the drinks table.

The fire dimmed but still fought on and you were shepherded towards your truck by your girlfriend, the hatch had been brought down and you could see that Alexia had stored every spare pillow and blanket from your house and made a cosy nest in the bed of your trunk.

She threw herself in, happy to warm herself in the nestle of blankets, always being more susceptible to the cold. Nose red and beanie pulled low down on her head. She opened her arms invitingly and you settled between her legs, watching the scene before you.

You watched as Alba and her latest girlfriend messed around feeding each other parkin. You watched as Mapi chased Pina around with a sparkler in her hand, the younger girl screaming for her life as Mapi cackled. You watched Eli cooing over Jona’s young baby, looking so confident with the newborn only an experienced mother could. You took in how Lucy seemed to eat her 5th bowl of chilli as Ona chatted her ear off.

The scene was perfect.

Only made more so as you felt Ale move her cold hands beneath your warm clothing, grabbing you around the stomach and resting her hands there, making you hiss at the contact, “buscar mi amor” she whispered into your ear, as you looked to the sky and watched as the familiar explosion of fireworks in the sky above you.

The whoops and hollers of the kids (and Mapi) warmed your heart, as you watched the display you let the the sound of the explosions and the ‘ooh’s’ and ‘ahh’s’ of the families and friends around you seep into your bones. The smell of sulphur invaded your senses and you settled more deeply into the woman behind you.

You quickly snapped a picture to share in your family group chat, quickly joining the tens of fireworks pictures from different displays as you all shared your evening, far away yet able to be involved, thanks to your Ale.

“Tell me about Bonfire Night, Mi Amor, I promise, I do not think it is silly.”

That much was obvious, with the effort she had gone to in such a short space of time.

You told her about the big fires the village came together to build. How it made your community stronger. The fireworks and how the sky lit up all week. The school projects and crude drawings of fires you would make. The toffee apples you would get stuck in your teeth and the parkin your mum would bake.

How the stickiness would sit on your hands for days. How your dad would always throw an unexploded firework into the bonfire without thinking, making him run away from the explosions behind him as you and your brother peeled over with laughter. How the cold would pinch your cheeks and you’d check the bonfire for hedgehogs before it was lit. How you’d spend days building a guy from your dads old clothes stuffed with newspaper. How you would run around with sparklers and spend all the next day picking them up from the streets with your brother and putting them into a bucket.

“It sounds fun, Mi Amor. I am glad you grew up with so much love. I get to benefit from it now.” Alexia had muttered into your hair, and pressed a kiss to your head.

You felt those memories wash over you, and knew that this bonfire night would be right up there with them, cemented as the best times of your life.

Yes, you weren't used to the sound of the waves as you usually watched the bonfire burn, and no, you usually weren’t stood on a bed of sand. No, your usual bonfire night would not consist of Alexia telling off Jana and Patri for sneaking in croquetas behind one of the parked cars, insisting they had to eat the British food prepared.

But the smiles were the same, people coming together around the fire was the same, the children laughing and family enjoying time together was the same, couples falling further in love and cuddling together for warmth was the same, the colours and the sparkles that lit up everyone's faces. The same.

“Thank you Alexia. For all of this. The rugby, this, it’s…It's… perfect.”

“You are perfect.” she’d replied, without hesitation.

You swatted her hand that still rested on your stomach, “Soppy.” you’d admonished.

“Not sorry,” she’d quipped back. You fell into a comfortable silence, enjoying the sound of the fireworks popping above you.

“Our kids will celebrate bonfire night.” she’d let out, suddenly, with certainty. Finishing the thought you’d started to express days earlier.

Before you had a chance to formulate a thought she continued, “and pancake day. And they will watch Rugby. And football. And celebrate La Mercè. They will know about Sant Jordi. And Saint George.”

“Ale…” you’d let out, wetly, tears brimming in your eyes.

“They will be a mix of both of us. And I will marry you, you know? One day. We will be married.”

There she is again, with her beautiful simplicity.

You don’t really know what to say to that, and you let the silence take hold for a moment.

Where was the woman who blushed in embarrassment when she realised you’d understood her muttered Spanish compliments? Though, you suppose, you’d both changed together. Where was the woman you used to be who would refuse to stay in a postcode for more than 2 weeks?

“ain’t no mountain high enough” you softly sang at her, trailing your fingers down her arm, lightly, it had become your song, between the two of you, when things were bad with your PTSD she would hold you close and sing quietly, in the safety of your bed, her spanish lilt would settle your heart rate and the lyrics would melt the ice in your veins.

Her arms squeeze you tighter, both lost in the safety of your blanket fortress under the stars, surrounded by friends and family but you may as well be the only people on the beach.

“I can’t wait to ask you, officially.”

God if this setup was her idea of a date, you couldn’t imagine her idea of a proposal.

“I can’t wait to say yes” you replied, playing with her ring finger that was settled on your stomach, “officially.”

You moved back and kissed the tall blonde softly, passionately, until you’re interrupted by Mapi’s aggrieved exclamation;

“Espera! The Guy was ¿Español?”

#alexia putellas x reader #woso x reader #woso community #alexia putellas #woso imagine #alexia putellas imagine

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moonstruckme · 7 months ago

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heya!! i was wondering if you could write a poly!marauders x reader where r stopped smoking..? i’m 6 months clean from smoking nicotine and i haven’t told anyone (you’re the first!! lmao) just incase i break from a stressful day and so i don’t disappoint!! could you maybe write that into the drabble or whatever you do..? tysm if you do, and if you don’t then no worries!!

i love you mae and make sure to take care of yourself and keep being you!!!!

thanks for requesting gorgeous, i really hope you're doing well!! proud of you <3

cw: smoking, reader deals with addiction

poly!marauders x fem!reader ♡ 936 words

Remus smells like cigarettes. He’s stopped smoking anywhere near you, but you’re sure if you look out the front door you’ll see the telltale smear of ash smashed into the sidewalk from where he’d stamped one out on the way in. The aroma brings longing and self-loathing, the former more potent than the latter, and you find yourself breathing in the fibers of his sweater for a whiff of it.

Remus doesn’t catch onto the true motivation for your proximity. He takes it for cuddling, adjusting his hold on his book so he can read with one hand while the other wraps around your shoulders, encouraging you closer to his side. Underneath the heady smell of lingering smoke he smells like himself, like cinnamon and oranges, and you try to focus on that as your better sense fogs over and your fingers start itching for a cig.

“Aha!” Sirius slaps his last card down on the table.

James blows out a flabbergasted breath, leaning back on his hands on the floor. They’re playing some kids’ card game Remus learned in primary school and unwisely taught them. At first you’d all gotten into it, but after Sirius nearly took your head off for forgetting the rules and playing with two hands (“Sorry, gorgeous, you know I don’t mean anything I say when I’m trying to win…and I could have won, couldn’t I? No, I’m just saying, it’s about the principle—”) you and Remus had bowed out. James and Sirius have retained their obsession for days, each keeping a scoreboard in their own heads that seems to hold them in favor.

“Angel?”

You look up, meeting James’ knowing gaze. “Hm?”

“He asked if you’re getting hungry for dinner,” Remus clues you in, toying with the ends of your hair.

“Oh, sorry. Um…” You think hard. One of the more irritating things about quitting smoking is that now your appetite never seems to fully die down. You’re ready for your next meal all day long, and so you actually have to think about whether it makes sense for you to have it. “I had some carrots just after I got home, so I could eat whenever you want to.”

“Alright…”

You take another deep inhale, telling yourself it’s because Remus smells nice and losing your grasp on self-control all the while.

“Are you tired?” Remus asks, and you don’t know how you didn’t notice it before, that extra bit of roughness that his voice takes on after he’s been smoking. You’re so envious you could die. “You seem distracted.”

“I’m good,” you murmur. Though perhaps it’d be better if you did take a nap or something. You’re beginning to feel twitchy. You take in a breath through your nose like you’ve been practicing, letting it out through your mouth.

“Ah.” Sirius scoots closer to you, laying his cheek on the couch cushion. “You want to have a piece of your gum, sweet thing?”

You look at him guiltily. Remus makes a soft sound of realization.

“You’re picking your nails,” Sirius explains, and you look down to see that you are. “I imagine that means you’re craving one.”

It’s simultaneously sweet and irksome that none of your boyfriends will even say the word cigarette around you anymore. They’re trying to be considerate, you know, but it feels like they think your self-control is so tenuous that just one word could shatter it. You don’t have the heart to tell them.

“Sorry,” you mumble, getting the pack of gum out of your pocket. Just the act of unwrapping a stick makes you feel instantly better. “I guess I was thinking I wouldn’t need it anymore.”

“Don’t be sorry,” James says lightly. “I don’t imagine it’s easy, sweetheart, you shouldn’t feel bad about using something to cope. It’s not like having gum hurts anything.”

You hum, then turn to Remus sheepishly. “I’m really sorry, do you think you might be able to change?” He looks confused. “Your sweater smells like cigarettes,” you explain.

James gasps as though scandalized and Remus swears, grabbing the neckline of his sweater and tugging it off. He tosses it into the hall.

“M’sorry, dove.” He takes your head between his hands, mushing a kiss into your hair. He’s now bare-chested, and you laugh at the dramatics, totally unexpected from him. “I didn’t realize. Is it better now?”

“Yeah, thanks.”

He drops another kiss on your head, remorseful. “Alright, I’ll go grab something else to wear,” he says, starting to stand. Both Sirius and James protest loudly.

“I think what you’re wearing now looks great,” says James.

“Yeah,” Sirius seconds, “stay in that.”

Remus looks down at his shirtless torso, raising an eyebrow at the other boys. You can see the amusement dancing in his eyes.

“Really?” he asks.

“Come on, it’s not like the fucking Pope’s coming over,” Sirius says, looking well below your boyfriend’s eyes with unabashed enthusiasm. “Tell him, gorgeous.”

Remus turns his gaze on you. You curl in on yourself slightly, shrugging your shoulders. “This is the best distraction I’ve had all day,” you say quietly, and James’ laughter booms off the walls.

“Fair enough.” Remus rolls his eyes, grinning as he sits back down on the couch beside you. You get comfy like you were against his side, now smelling only him. He drapes his arm across your back, settling a hand on your hip. “The lows I stoop to for you, hm?”

“If you’re not up to the task,” Sirius says, “just say the word. I’d be happy to take her off your hands.”

“Fuck off,” Remus says, and tugs you closer.

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the-kr8tor · 4 months ago

Note

I'm doing it! I'm writing a request! :D

(Ik you're suuuuppperrr busy I'm so sorry you can take as long as you want I'm in no rush you're so sweeet and literally a lifesaver cause every time I read your posts, I get infused with the energy of 2 million Suns)

So I was thinking about a oneshot where r is waiting for Hobie to come backstage after one of his performances and this know it all groupie type guy is like, really giving her a hard time and he won't listen to anything she says he just sucks or wtv. Then Hobie comes out like, total golden retriever all giddy and happy to see r and the other guy is just baffled. Dunno it's kinda silly and based off of a post I saw a while back presenting the idea of it.

Thank you for requesting! Sorry for the wait, I hope you still like it ❤️

Pairing: Hobie Brown x fem! Reader/ Spider-Punk x fem! Reader

Word count: 1.2k

Tags: No use of Y/N, no specific physical description of the reader, cw food mentions, FLUFF

ʕ⁠·⁠ᴥ⁠·⁠ʔ

As the band closes their last song, the crowd cheers and hollers at them. Hobie, all pumped up and sweaty, bows to the audience. The colourful stage light illuminates his features well, lighting up all of his perfection; from how sweat clings to his cheeks, sliding down to his chiseled clavicle. His piercings shine brightly under the warm light, the cherry red guitar in his ringed hand acts as a beacon to the rowdy crowd. Yuri goads them on, arms riling up the crowd for an encore. Turning the clapping and screaming to thunderous applause and screeches.

You're situated along the side of the stage, and on the other side of the bannister where the crowd is currently starting the largest mosh pit you've ever seen. You crane your neck up to the stage, unintentionally meeting with Hobie's hazel eyes that were already turned towards you.

He confidently winks in your direction, a few people behind you screeches like a wild banshee. They don't know the wink was for you and for you only. You wink back, more bashful than the one he threw at you. It's your little signal, a signal that you and Hobie made when he's about to finish his set so you could wait for him backstage where he always runs towards you with his arms wide, grinning triumphantly and embracing you until you're breathless. You're familiar with his affectionate winks, but that doesn't mean you're used to them. He always catches you off guard with them, loving the way your eyes widen with your hand flying to your chest as if he just jumpscared you. Truthfully, you wouldn't have it any other way.

“Fine,” Hobie reluctantly cuts off your little staring contest with the silent promise of being by your side the moment the band finishes this one song. His lips press on the mic, eyes roaming around the packed stadium. “you lot better be fuckin' ready.” An immediate wave of whistles and yells echo around.

With his guitar riff starting back again, lights turning red and acting as the band's spotlight, you walk towards the event bouncers. Once they see your v.i.p ID they let you through the doors and into backstage.

Passing by the snack table placed by the event organizers, you stumble back to it. You then take an armful of water bottles for the entire band, and then you take a single black and white cookie just for Yuri and her sweet tooth.

Arms full, you wait by the side with the perfect view of the band playing with their whole heart. Hobie jumps on an amplifier and backflips off it. Your heart almost fell into your stomach when you thought he couldn't land on his feet. But of course he did, Hobie practically backflips off the bed every morning (not really he’s a grumpy riser) so it's only natural that he lands on his feet like an experienced gymnast.

Yuri and the others jam together in harmony, Ned belts out while James looks like he wants to crowd surf from the look in his eye. You hope he doesn't, not after what happened last time.

“Cool t-shirt.” A voice suddenly says next to you.

“Thanks.” You glance at the tall stranger while you adjust your hold on the water bottles and cookie.

“It's vintage isn't it? I know from the crude design.” You furrow your brows at the comment, especially that you and the entire band stayed up late to finish an entire sack full of the handmade shirts. “It's from their first album, right?” The man raises a brow, like he's questioning your knowledge.

You flick your eyes down to his own shirt, it's a recent one, definitely better than what you have on but it doesn't share the same amount of sentimentality. “Yeah, I know, I was there.”

“Right.” He scoffs, you take a step away from him, turning your attention back to Hobie, who's still not done with the last song. “Of course you were there.” Your jaw tightens, annoyed at best but you're not willing to leave backstage just because of him. “If you were there, you'd know that the shirt was technically designed for their second album. Not the first.”

You turn your head sharply, “you're right, it was.” Smiling, your eyes tell otherwise. “But it was made for the first album because the band couldn't be arsed to make another design for the second one so the second release of the shirts were in a bigger quantity. Hence the misunderstanding that it was for the second album instead.” You finish off your sentence with a smirk.

“Yeah, sure, lady.” He scoffs, unconvinced. “You probably can't name a single song from that album.” He makes another annoying entitled scoff “As if you were actually there—”

“There's our girl!” Yuri appears behind you while you basically throw daggers at the man with your stare. She clasps your shoulder, nudging you happily. “Ooh, cookie! Thanks, babe!” Yanking the snack from your hand, pecking your cheek, she spares the fan a glance then quickly makes her way to the green room to rest before the meet and greet.

“Where's our cookie?” James pouts, feigning a frown.

“I've got some water for you, Jamesy.” You almost forget about the fan gawking and aweing next to you.

“It's not the same though!” And yet, James still takes the bottle from your hand, patting your shoulder as thanks.

Ned clicks his tongue and shakes his head, following James, he takes his share, walking backwards and still teasing you with a disapproving face. “The sheer favoritism!” To add to his so-called discontent, he slams the doors of the greenroom. You're sure that you even heard a muffled, “give me that fucking cookie!” from him.

Before you come looking for your favourite guitarist, Hobie appears from behind you, arms snaking along your middle to wrap you in his anticipated hug. “How's our number one fan?” You lean back, smiling up at him, not minding how his sweat now sticks to your back. You meet with his eyes as he pecks your temple with a resounding smack of his lips. You can see the adrenaline waning off him in waves as he carefully puts more of his weight on you without making you fall from the increased weight. You find yourself giggling more and more, already forgetting about the intrusion.

“I'm good. Hi.” He expects that reply from you, not from the man across from you. “I'm your biggest fan, Hobie!” Holding up a trembling hand to shake Hobie's hand, you seethe in place.

“Thanks, mate.” Hobie, being polite, shakes his hand. “But if you were the biggest fan, you'd know that this shirt…” he pats your stomach, hand lingering there. “was lovingly made by my girl for the first album.”

He's had his fair share of people like him, he takes their words in stride, but the moment someone does it to you, he'll be sure to fight back. He's convinced that if you weren't interrupted you'd be wiping the floor with the rude fan’s face by proving him wrong. Or literally wiping his face down on the ground if need be.

You grin wider as you see colour drain from the fan's face. “I ordered shawarma for everyone.” You provide the biggest slap to the rude fan by ignoring him. “I hid the biggest portion for you.”

Hobie chuckles into your shoulder before taking your hand and leading you away without another word to the strange fan. “And everyone says Yuri's your favourite.”

#request done #the kr8tor's creations #atsv x reader #hobie brown x reader #spider punk x reader #atsv hobie #atsv fanfiction #hobie fanfic #hobie fluff #hobie x reader #hobie brown x fem!reader #spider punk x fem! reader #atsv imagine #hobie imagine #x reader #fanfic #cw food mention #hobie brown fluff

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doll3tt33 · 1 year ago

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╰➜ ⊹ ࣪ ˖┆soon to be inactive┆⊹ ࣪ ˖

she/her 𝜗𝜚 libra ☉ libra ☾ sag ↑ 𝜗𝜚 will come back to occasionally post and drop off a bot of the evans if I make any 𝜗𝜚 still a colin girlie

my most recent fic/hc! - my haunted lungs, ghost in the sheets ❥ colin zabel

everybody knows I’m a good girl, officer ❥ colin zabel

‘cause when you know you know ❥ colin zabel

my most recent c.ai bot! - playing dangerous ❥ colin zabel

a day in the life of a cleaner for homelander ❥ homelander

check your window, he’s at your window ❥ tate langdon

Goodbye for now! ♡

Requests are closed cuz I’m moving on with other interests, so this account wont be as active anymore. might come back one day.

a lil’ info:

• If you’re under 18, then it means this place isn’t for you and YA BETTER GET OFF MA PROPERTY!! On a fr note, please do not interact if you’re a minor.

• characters I’m sorta confident I won’t mess up with (aka characters you can request for): Kai Anderson, Tate Langdon, Austin Sommers, Kyle Spencer, Kit Walker, Colin Zabel, Peter Maximoff, Stan Bowes, Luke Cooper, Charles Decker, + characters from The Boys

• characters I’m not so confident with right now: James Patrick March, Jimmy Darling, Warren Lipka, Mr. Gallant.

I’ll need a rewatch to get a better grasp of their character so they won’t be ooc, but I’ll make them available to request in the future!

• general requests are cool! but I really appreciate requests with a specific scenario/AU. This is a kink-friendly blog, so feel free to go wild!

Bots & fics masterlist below the cut!

all of the bots below have detailed defintions and descriptions, along with example messages! So dw, none of them are empty carcasses of an ai bot

angst/dark themes - ✮ sfw - ❀ (might lead to) nsfw - ✧

c.ai filter breaking tut: pt.1, pt.2

Kai Anderson:

𝜗𝜚 Fanfics:

Your faithless love’s the only hoax I believe in. ✮

𝜗𝜚 Headcanons:

Kai Anderson SFW headcanons ❀

𝜗𝜚 AI bots:

Being in a toxic relationship with Kai (based off the song ‘Ultraviolence’) ✮

Kai breaking into your home for revenge ✮/✧

Visiting spiritual counselor!Kai to seek guidance ✮/❀

Kai coming up to you at a bookstore ❀

Kai “accidentally” spilling his coffee all over you ❀

⇢ I recommend the bookstore one over the coffee one if u r looking for a standard Kai bot to use, cuz the former’s settings are improved ((but like the coffee one’s still aight ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

Colin Zabel:

𝜗𝜚 Fanfics:

Everybody knows I’m a good girl, officer ✧

My haunted lungs, ghost in the sheets ✧

‘Cause when you know you know ❀

𝜗𝜚 AI bots:

Getting arrested by Colin… again ❀

Having your first session with therapist!Colin ❀

Professor!Colin teaching you on your first day of college ❀

Peter Maximoff:

Peter challenging you to Pac-Man at the arcade ❀

Chilling with Peter in his room ❀

You’re both lonely on prom night so Peter invites you to join him ❀

Stan Bowes:

You’re the daughter of Stan’s boss and he has to pick you up from a party ❀

Having your first ever dinner with sugardaddy!Stan ❀

Interrupting Stan in the middle of work ❀

Austin Sommers:

paparazzi!Austin who won’t stop pestering you ❀

Kyle Spencer:

Frankenkyle showing up at your doorstep in the middle of the night ❀

You’re a new witch at the academy and you’re responsible for Frankenkyle ❀

Studying alone with frat!Kyle at the campus library ❀

frat!Kyle comes up to you at a college party on New Year’s Eve ❀

Tate Langdon:

perv!Tate snapping photos of you in the school’s bathroom ✧

Helping Tate after he gets bullied at school ❀

Tate walking in on you playing a ritual game ❀

Dealing with an emotionally unstable Tate after your break up (based off the song ‘Meant to Be Yours’ from Heathers: The Musical) ✮

Kit Walker:

singledad!Kit hiring you as a babysitter ❀

Kit taking all the blame for you at the asylum ✮

bartender!Kit serving you a free drink ❀

Getting steamy with husband!Kit in the kitchen ✧

Luke Cooper:

Luke getting everyone’s coffee orders wrong but yours ❀

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estrellami-1 · 1 day ago

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Lavender Letters

Part 7

Eddie grins.

He drops it in his locker.

Friday at 7 sharp, he’s locking his van and knocking on the Harringtons’ front door.

It swings open to reveal Steve, blush high on his cheeks. “You made it,” he says, almost breathily.

Eddie grins. “I said I would, didn’t I?” He steps closer. “Hi, sweetheart.”

“Hi,” Robin Buckley agrees. “Let’s come inside before the whole neighborhood has to watch you play tonsil hockey.”

Eddie chuckles. “R,” he says, and holds out his fist.

Robin blinks at it for a second before she remembers. “The biggest, gayest fist bump!” She exclaims, bumping his fist with hers. “Okay, now come on, into the living room, I finally got the set list down and I’m not waiting on you bozos to start the party.” She drags them to the living room, where Eddie sees Nancy, Jonathan, Vickie, and…

“Miss Cunningham,” Eddie grins, bowing to kiss her hand. “Looking lovely as always.”

“Eddie!” Chrissy grins, pulling him up and into a hug. “I didn’t know you’d be here!”

Eddie chuckles. “Where else would I be? Prom?” He grins wide, and Chrissy laughs.

“Who invited you?”

“Ah, only the man of the hour.”

“Oh, this is years in the making,” she laughs, pushing him back over to Steve. “Don’t let me steal you away from him!”

Eddie lets himself stumble over, almost falling before Steve catches him. “Hi, sweetheart,” he grins. “I think I just fell for you.”

Steve grins wide. His eyes are barely slits. “According to your letter, you fell for me a while ago.”

“Maybe so,” he acquiesces. “But now I know you. Really know you.” He finds his feet, offers Steve a hand. “May I have this dance?”

“You dance?” Steve grins, accepting Eddie’s offer.

“I… shuffle,” Eddie admits, grinning when Steve laughs. “But I can follow if you lead.”

Steve grins. “That’s not what your hanky says.”

Eddie is delighted. “You looked it up!”

“A while ago, actually, yeah. You’re not exactly subtle, flagging in Hawkins.”

Eddie shrugs. “If I have to, I can play it off as being a metal thing. James Hetfield wears one, too.”

“James Hetfield?”

“Metallica frontman. The point is that I have an alibi if I need it.”

“Have you ever needed it?”

Eddie laughs. “In Hawkins? Hell no.”

“How about in Indy? How do you know what you like?”

Eddie hums. “Some reading, and some… hands-on. Not as much as you’d think.” He grins wryly at Steve. “Most guys take one look at me and assume I’ve got the wrong side.”

Steve frowns. “That’s stupid. They think you’d go to all the trouble of getting a hanky just to forget which pocket you should put it in?”

Eddie shrugs a shoulder. “It happens. I do have some experience, though.”

“Good.”

“Good?”

Steve grins at him. “I’m glad one of us does, yeah.”

“And you? How do you know what you like?”

Steve blushes. “A lot of nights with a zine and my right hand.”

Eddie laughs. “We’ve all gotta start somewhere. What did you discover?”

Steve’s blush is permanent now. “Kitchen?”

Eddie leads him there. “How about a drink first?” He suggests. “I’d get you a water but I don’t know where anything is.”

Steve giggles, grabs two bottles. “There’s beer in the fridge that you’re welcome to, or Nancy brought punch, but I’d be careful.”

Eddie dips a glass in for a little taste and nearly gags. “Christ, what is that, paint thinner?”

Steve snorts. “Just about. You don’t want to get on her bad side.”

“No kidding.” He wipes his mouth, rinses out the glass, and accepts the bottle Steve offers. “Yikes,” he murmurs, causing Steve to snort.

He leans on the island. “So?”

“So,” Steve agrees. “Um. I’d like it if you would take more control. Not- not be mean. I don’t like being called names or put down in any way. But, um. I do like some pain. You-you can, um, slap me around a little? And-”

“Sweetheart,” Eddie murmurs, “you seem nervous.”

“I’ve never actually, uh, said any of it out loud before.”

Eddie crowds into his space, absolutely delights in the way his eyes go half-lidded and his blush takes over his face. “Then how about we try something else?”

#stranger things #steve harrington #eddie munson #steddie #robin buckley #platonic stobin #Lavender Letters #starambles #we’re almost done!!!!#just 3 more :)

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taintandviolent · 1 year ago

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le petite mort; James March x Reader

summary: After checking into one of the Hotel Cortez, a conversation with the bartender plagues your mind with dirty thoughts. Some guy catches you pleasuring yourself in the hotel room - and that some guy happens to be the owner of the Hotel. w a r n i n g s: 2k words! shameless smut! female masturbation, accidental voyeurism, slight humiliation, choking / asphyxiation, mentions of death (kinda). a/n: this is one of the first JPM fics that I started writing, and I felt that it finally needed to be finished and out of my drafts. hopefully it's not ASS. this is s shorter one, which feels alien to me, but c'est comma ça. hope everyone enjoys it!

full fic & taglist under cut!↓ / ao3 link here!

“Most people who check into the Hotel Cortez are hipsters wanting a taste of the art deco, or junkies and prostitutes looking to have a quick night in a cheap room.” She set the glass down carefully on the ornate bar, sliding it towards you with one finger.

The bartender didn’t hesitate in striking up a conversation after you’d sat down, angling your two suitcases on one side of the stool. The thought immediately manifested itself between your legs, and you shifted. If only. It had been so long since you’d had a good fuck that at this point, you’d even take a quick night. Maybe not with a junkie, but….

“I guess I kind of fall into the first category. But, I am here for a friend’s wedding. I didn’t want to stay where everyone else was staying.” You tilted your head back, letting the remainder of the amber slide down your throat. “I wish I was in the second category… maybe minus the junkies and prostitutes bit. But…” You trailed off with a shrug.

“Oh believe me, sweetheart. I know exactly what you mean. Women have needs.”

As you gathered your bags, your peripheral caught someone with dark hair watching you. Naturally, when you turned to look at them, you were met with an empty bar. Of course, because this is an old hotel and probably haunted.

“Thanks, Liz. It’s been a treat.”

She said nothing, only bowed her head with her long arms resting widely on the bar. You made a mental note to come back to the bar for another drink. But for now, it was time to unwind in your hotel room.

After getting settled, and a much needed hot shower — washing that airplane sludge off you was mandatory — you were finally relaxed. The wedding wasn’t until Saturday, so you had plenty of time to do whatever made its way into your mind. Maybe order some room service. Maybe peruse the hotel for some history, spend hours reading the informative little plaques that decorated the wall — every old hotel had them. Maybe masturbate…. Oh. Yes. Definitely that. That was first on the list, actually.

Dropping your towel to your feet, you pulled an old tattered t-shirt over your head, and hurried to the bed. Silly that you had any sort of modesty in an empty hotel room, it was after all, your hotel room. Could’ve and should’ve just bolted across the floor naked.

Suddenly, the radio on the table across from you crackled to life, the speakers expelling a high-pitched voice singing jovially amongst violins and some sort of wind instrument. After a few moments, it switched off with a burst of static. Lids heavy with arousal, you stared sleepily at the radio, resolving to unplug it before you went to sleep that night. Old wiring could be tolerated, but things turning on in the middle of the night was nightmare fuel.

You pressed the pad of your middle finger between the folds, delving further down to your entrance, where you pulled up some of the slick to lubricate your clit. The sensation made your eyelids flutter. Jesus, that conversation with the bartender had really gone straight to the cunt — you were clearly longing for something. Someone who would bring something new, something exciting to the table. You already dreaded the polite flirting that was going to occur at the wedding.

Your fingers circled your clit, bringing the sensitivity as high as you could for as long as you could before you felt the hot clench of an orgasm rush over you. Expelling a high pitched moan, you slipped your middle and ring finger inside, pumping in and out to bring yourself over the edge. You let out a few hoarse breaths as your hips dug into the creaky mattress, riding out the pleasure.

“My, my…”

You stared wide-eyed up at the ceiling, trying to figure out if that had been some weird, orgasm-induced hallucination.

“La petite mort, as the French call it.”

You yelped, pulling your wet fingers from your cunt. Unless the bartender had slipped something in your drink, the man at the edge of your bed was definitely not a hallucination. Dark hair styled so that not a single strand was out of place, no facial hair save for a thin moustache that decorated his upper lip, and a suit so pristine, you wondered if he’d just come off a film set. It was LA after all.

“Jesus Christ,” you sputtered, panting unevenly. “What?!” The way he stood at the edge of the bed, hands layered atop a cane was so paternal and overbearing it made you feel like a child caught watching porn on a school night. There was nothing to be embarrassed of; you were a grown woman in a hotel room that you paid for.

“A little death,” he replied. “A temporary weakness, a loss of consciousness. It became a poetic euphemism for orgasm in the late eighteen-hundreds.”

“Thanks for the history lesson,” you murmured, mouth curling downward in irritation. “Have you ever heard of knocking!?”

He pushed his bottom lip into his top, pulling his chin up in a challenging expression. One eyebrow quirked. “You wouldn’t have heard me if I had.”

You opened your mouth to protest, but promptly snapped it shut. He had you there. A soft, melodic rapping on a door would’ve been lost amongst your whimpers and groans. Laughably so.

“Who the fuck even are you!? I’m going to call front desk — this is weird.” Frustrated, you wipe your slick fingers on the sheet beneath you before reaching for the phone. Suddenly, he was beside you, and the energy that radiated off of him made your leg muscles spasm.

The woman on the other end sounded annoyed.

“Hi.”

“Hi,” she repeated, sounding like she was trying to suss out if this was a prank call.

“I would um, like someone removed from my hotel room. Security, or something.”

“We don’t have security.”

“Okay, that’s outrageous, but — there’s just some fucking guy in my room.”

You’re met with silence. The old plastic of the receiver creaked in your grip, your eyes darting back to him. He was smiling. Proudly.

“Tell them my name.”

You jerked your head forward, contorting your face in defiance, and wordlessly asking for clarification.

“Repeat after me, ‘The man in my room is James Patrick March, and I’d like him removed at once.’”

You felt your eyes narrow into slits, confused. Somewhere deep inside your core, you felt a clench at his sternness. “Go on, my dear.” He urged.

You cleared your throat resentfully.

“The man in my room is… James Patrick March and I’d like him removed at once.”

The line crackled. Instead of the usual static one would expect, terrifying sounds blared through the receiver; hisses and condescending sniggering. Eventually, you make out the harsh sound of a full bellied laugh. The woman was laughing.

“The owner? The owner of the hotel?” The laughing continued.

The tip of his cane came clunking down into the switch-hook, where he held it for several seconds — for poignancy? Dramatic effect? The dial tone startled you.

“I paid for this hotel room, okay? I do—“ You started, stiffly returning the receiver to the cradle.

“You did, did you?” He asked, his voice raising gleefully. The change in tone unsettled you. Deeply. Keeping your eyes locked on his, you reached for the edge of the duvet, scratching your nails at it to bring it up around your bare legs.

He watched you intently, almost smiling. Was he waiting for you to say something? Jesus.

“Ye-yeah… I paid for it.”

“Ah!” He exclaimed.

You jumped.

“I own this hotel, you see.” He gestured enthusiastically to the room, your eyes following it as though you hadn’t already spent a night in it. “I own it all. Down to the sheets you were pleasuring yourself on moments ago.”

You glanced at them. “Finished on, actually.”

“Yes — I know. Shame. I would’ve taken great pride in doing that myself.”

Your jaw dropped, and you pressed your legs together until you felt the pressure against your cunt. Your stomach tied itself in knots.

“Is the thought odious to you?” He inquired, almost softly, like he was trying to appeal to your gentler nature.

You remained silent, rubbing at the veins in your wrist. Eventually, after mulling it over (or gaining the confidence to do so), you shook your head.

“I thought not.” He may have been a complete stranger, but the way melodic way he crooned and growled every word made you dizzy. With the back of his hand, he swept a strand of hair from your brow, his knuckles ghosting over your cheek.

“Show me,” he ordered, running a single finger along your collarbone.

His hands wrapped around your throat, and heat blossomed in your cheeks. At first, his fingers were pressing on either side of your throat and the arousal flowed freely again, delighted by the concept of a mysteriously sexual one night stand. Admittedly, he wasn’t going in easy, but you weren’t a saint. You’d had your fair share of dudes who thought they were a Dom. This guy though… he wasn’t that. He didn’t get his tendencies from sneaking peeks at his girlfriend’s Cosmopolitan. He certainly hadn’t killed your arousal with his decision.

He shifted his weight on top of you, pulling the breathiest moan from your lips. The way his pointer finger roughly traced your jawbone drove you wild. His hands were just cold enough to feel unusual, but they were soft and possessed an unanticipated strength.

All at once, the pressure shifted to the front, his palm compressing against your trachea. Your brows furrowed at the sudden discomfort. His gaze was locked on your face, raptly watching the changing expressions.

You grasped at his hand, flailing as the oxygen started dwindling. Your head felt heavy and the sensation of your vision darkening around the edges frightened you. Your muscles tensed instinctively. He didn’t let up, and the panic wound itself in between your ribs like a snake. With your heart pounding, you began fighting recklessly, desperately trying to reach for anything.

James saw the nearly final change, and with a delighted gaze, eased up. “Exhilarating!”

You gasped, your lungs moaning as they sucked in air. The sound was disturbing to you, and sounded inhuman. “You almost killed me…”

“Hardly, my dear! Brain death occurs in four to five minutes. You triumphantly endured a mere ten seconds!”

“A…little… death.” He whispered each word delicately over your lips, hovering mere centimetres above yours. He was intoxicating, whatever it was he was putting off. Unbeknownst to you, your legs dropped open, hungry for more.

He looked down, eyes scanning over your thighs, your knees, and to the lush, inviting garden between them. One hand returned to your throat, compressing it slightly. You whimpered at the now-familiar sensation, and scooted your body down further on the bed, through his legs.

“Good! Yes,” he praised. “Succumb to your urges.”

As though he’d reached into your brain and simply made you do it, your fingers were on your cunt, playing with your wet folds before you had a second to process that you'd even done it. It was already sensitive, your touches had you galloping towards a second, overstimulated orgasm. With his free hand, James enveloped your hand with his large one, cupping it easily. You writhed uncontrollably, whimpering. He growled in delight at the feeling of your vocal cords humming beneath his palm.

“St-stop,” you cried out weakly, the pressure on your throat making you sound altogether pathetic.

“Very well then, I will.” He said, abruptly releasing the pressure on your throat. “I will, but you won’t.”

You almost protested the action, though that would’ve been an embarrassing blow to your ego had you actually done it. Begging him to stop then begging him to continue? Shameful. How much more of a desperate whore could you be, honestly? “Go on - since you’re so fond of it. Show me.”

He took in a seat in the velvet chair directly parallel to the bed, one leg crossed casually over the other. His dark eyes were aflame with interested, erotic hunger. You slipped one finger in, making a slutty show of how wet you were. Two fingers, and you arched your back, moaning loud.

“Another,” he crooned. You obeyed, wincing at the fullness. You curled your fingers up, pressing into the spongy flesh that made you writhe like a worm on a hook. You began leaking onto the mattress below, a mess of cum and sweat. James watched you as you fingered yourself again and again, pleasuring yourself over and over in every way you knew how until your legs were quivering with the overstimulation.

“Die a little death, my darling, go on…”

You came. Hard. Screaming, shaking and spilling out onto the sheets beneath you. With your hand laying limp over your damp cunt, twitching every so often, your breathing gradually slowed. Of course, when you lifted your head, the man was gone, leaving nothing but the quiet echo of his satisfied ‘Mmmm…’

t a g l i s t : @kaismanwich / @redwoodghost / @elsamars / @silverzoomies / @thewolveswithin / @kaisbasementwhore / @80strashbag / @twinkiemaximoff / @spill-the-t / @stucktothetwo / @evansb1tch / @enchanting-evan / @yesdevineruler / @anonymous0316 / @eventually27 / @violetharmonscupcake / @my-own-walker / @kai-slut / @fuckedbykai / @iluwmycats / @dewberryobssesed / @the-goblin1 / @dirtyfairy97 / @jellyluvr / @strangerthings420 / @kai-anderson-whore / @piecesofcain / @lilthbunny /

Ask to be added to the taglist for future fics!!

#two fics in 48 hours WHO WHAT HOW #James Patrick March #James Patrick March x yn #James Patrick March x you #James Patrick March x reader #ahs smut #ahs fanfiction #myfics

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fanficforlife · 1 year ago

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Chapter Seven

"And?" Anna asked, unable to hide the excitement in her voice.

"And, we dropped Tate off at school then we picked up a few things for the ranch. After he took me fishing at the river. We didn't catch anything but I did push him in. He pulled me in with though."

There was laughter on the other end of the phone and you couldn't help but let out a giggle. "Oh, honey. I'm so happy for you. Have you told him yet?"

"Um, one time when we were kissing a few weeks ago it started to go a bit further, I freaked out. A flashback of the last time Nick..."

"And?"

"I told him that Nick r-raped me. He figured it out actually and I just confirmed it. I know I need to tell him everything but I'm scared. I...I really like him. What if he changes his mind about me? What if he tells me to leave because he doesn't want to risk it if Nick does find me? He has Tate to think about so-"

"Violet," she cut you off, "if he's as great of a man as he sounds, everything will be okay. Especially since his father and brother know and they asked you to stay after you told them."

"Yeah..."

"There's only one way to find out and the longer you wait, the harder it will be for you to tell him. It's kind of like a bandaid, just rip it off."

"I know, you're right. John is watching Tate tonight so Kayce and I can have dinner. We're going to have it in an old trapper's cabin on their property. If we tried to in the house, Tate would be there talking a mile a minute... I should, I will tell him tonight."

"It's going to be okay, hun."

"I hope so." You glanced at the clock on your nightstand. "I should go so I can start getting ready."

"Alright. Don't worry about telling him, honey. I love you and I can't wait for you to tell me that he didn't change his mind because of him."

"I love you too. Tell James I said hi. I'll call you tomorrow and let you know how it goes. Have a good night."

"You too. Talk soon, hun."

A knock on your bedroom door drew your attention away from your reflection in the mirror. You opened it to see Kayce standing there wearing jeans, a black button-up shirt, his boots, and a cowboy hat.

His jaw dropped when he saw you. "Letty, you look amazing."

"Thank you." Heat crept across your cheeks as you looked down at the simple flowy, knee-length black dress with straps tied into bows on top of your shoulders that you had on. "You look nice too. I even got clean jeans this time." You teased. The other times the two of you had spent time together, it was usually during work or right after he was done. He was almost always dusty or dirty, not that you were complaining. He always looked good.

"Only the best for you." The red on your cheeks darkened and he smirked, stepping forward. He leaned in and gave you a small, soft kiss. "Ready to go?"

"Mhm." You slipped your hand in his waiting one and headed for the front door.

The two of you walked hand in hand across the yard and through some trees until you got to the cabin. He opened the door for you and the smell of pizza hit you. One of my favorites. "You remembered."

"Of course I did. It's pretty easy since it's also one of Tate's." He came up behind you and wrapped his arms around you your waist. "I had to go to town to pick up some stuff for the ranch so I picked one up for date night." After placing a kiss on the side of your head, he took your hand and went inside.

An hour later your plate was still full and you hadn't spoken more than a handful of words. You had only been able to pick at the slice due to the nerves already filling your stomach.

"Baby?" Kayce's hand wrapped around yours, pulling you away from your thoughts. "Are you feelin' okay?"

"Yeah, I just- I'll be right back." You got up and went into the washroom. Your hands gripped the edge of the vanity. Tears pricked your eyes from the what if's. What if he breaks up with me? What if he wants me to leave? What if he gets mad? No, it doesn't matter. I have to tell him. After taking a deep breath and forcing the tears back, you opened the door.

He immediately stood up and walked over when he saw the look on your face. "What's wrong?"

"I...I'm ready to tell you everything."

He guided you to the couch and you both sat down. Your eyes immediately went to your lap. "Hey," He gently hooked his finger under your chin and lifted it. "Remember, no matter what."

A sad half-smile formed before you took a deep breath. "Um, it-it was always just me and my mom. I never knew my dad and she didn't have any other family. She was the best. She was a waitress at this great little restaurant and during high school, I started working there too." Your hands wrung together tightly. "The...the last month of my senior year I met Nick. He just finished training to be a police officer and started at the station a few blocks from the restaurant. He asked me out a week later. My mom didn't like him but she said it was my decision. Ten months later she died in a car accident. She was always trying to get me to break up with him but I loved him. I should have listened to her..." You trailed off as happy memories of your mom played through your head.

"I'm sorry, baby." His hands reached for yours and you squeezed them gratefully.

"I couldn't afford our rent by myself so Nick asked me to move in with him. Everything was good for the next year. Then the real Nick started to poke through. When he got mad he would call me names or say things but he always apologized and everything would be okay again. It went on like that for a couple more years. He became a detective and was great at it." You swallowed. "His parents were having a dinner party with their friends and family the night of my twenty-fourth birthday. They invited us and Nick insisted we go so we went. Before dinner, his parents thanked everyone for coming. Then Nick went up. He asked me to marry him, I said yes. The dinner party was actually to celebrate our engagement. Things went downhill from there. He went from just saying things to grabbing and pushing me. He was always jealous but it started getting worse." You took a shaky breath at the memories. "He wanted me to quit waitressing even though I loved it. His family came from money, his dad's the mayor, his mom stayed home. He never had to worry about working if he didn't want to. Whenever we were out and he had to introduce me to family or friends, they would make a disgusted face, like I wasn't good enough. I could tell he was embarrassed I was just a waitress so I quit. It wasn't long after that that he started getting mad about me still hanging out with my friends. I didn't have many, just a few people I worked with. He eventually cut them out of my life. That's when I started baking, I needed something to do. I also had to keep the house spotless or he'd get mad." You took a deep breath while Kayce's hand had a death grip on yours. "One day when I was doing laundry I found a girl's phone number in his pocket. When he got home I confronted him about it. He got mad at me for going through his stuff and admitted he had been cheating on me the entire time we were together. I took off my ring and set it on the table. He...he hit me."

Kayce let out a gruff breath.

"He apologized right away and swore he would stop. I knew I shouldn't but he has a way of getting into people's heads and I believed him."

"He didn't change." Kayce gritted out and you shook your head.

"A couple of months later I smelled perfume on his shirt. He kept picking up girls at the bar or getting together with old ones. I tried to break up with him and he got mad. He said the other girls didn't matter. I was the one he wanted to marry and be seen with. I laughed and he hit me, hard. He picked me up off the floor and pushed me against the wall, he said I couldn't leave because he needed me and couldn't live without me. He said he'd stop. He begged, got on his knees. I knew...I knew I should have left but I was scared, he was all I had. The things he said, I wanted to believe him. The next few months we moved into a new house and his mom and sister said we should finally start planning the wedding because I kept putting it off. I tried on dresses worth more than a years worth of rent for my old apartment, tried countless flavors of cake. We set the date for ten months later but there was something deep inside, a feeling. I couldn't marry him. When I told him, he lost it. He threw pictures on the floor, swore, and said terrible things. I told him I would stay so he would stop. After he fell asleep, I threw a few things in a bag, took the money he had in his wallet, and snuck out. He found me a few hours later at a motel on the edge of town. He dragged me home, hit me, choked me. I ran into our bedroom but couldn't lock the door in time. He threw me onto the bed and...and said he needed to remind me that I was his."

"Fuck." Kayce's fist hit the arm of the couch. "Letty, baby." His hand came back to yours.

You gave him a small smile and squeezed his hand. "The next few weeks, I acted like nothing was wrong. I made dinner, went to his family or friends when he wanted. When he got mad he would hit me, choke me. I was outside having coffee one afternoon when the neighbors came out. They saw me and invited me over. I talked to them a few times in passing but it was always just a hi. I invited them over instead so if Nick came home early he would know where I was and wouldn't freak out. They told me all about their lives. He used to be a lawyer before he retired. They didn't have any kids, they loved traveling. I lost track of time and Nick came home. He was mad because dinner wasn't ready until he saw I wasn't alone. He changed back into the fake we're the perfect couple Nick as they got up and left. The second the door closed he hit me. He thought I told them about what he was like and since they didn't know him they would believe me. He didn't want me to talk to them anymore. I knew I had to get out but I didn't have my own money. I wasn't working and my name wasn't on his bank account or any of his credit cards. I started hiding the money I found in his pockets when I did laundry or what he left lying around on the dresser. I would take money out of his wallet whenever there was a lot in there so he wouldn't miss it. After a month and a half, I had almost two thousand dollars. When he went to work that day I packed a couple of bags and left. He found me two weeks later in Mississippi. He grabbed me and threw me in the car but on the drive back to California, he was quiet. He was the Nick from the very beginning of our relationship. He said he didn't know what he was thinking the past few years, cheating on me, hitting me. He said he would go to a therapist, we could go. I wanted to believe that he actually changed this time but the closer we got to Southaven, where we lived, the more scared I got. Our neighbors were outside when he pulled into the driveway. Nick told me to stay in the car and he would open the door for me. The little sliver of hope I still had disappeared because I knew why he wanted to open the door. He didn't want me to talk to them. After he grabbed the bags, he opened my door and said he would do the talking. They asked where I went because they hadn't seen me around, Nick said I went to visit my mom. They knew my mom was dead because I still went over to visit them after he told me not to. Before they could say anything else he grabbed my wrist and took me inside." You took a deep breath as your hands started to tremble.

Kayce moved closer to you and slid his arm around your waist. His other hand came back to yours.

You held onto it tightly and stared at your entwined fingers as memories of that night played through your head. "I've never seen him that angry. He did everything like he would before; yelling, hitting, choking. But, harder, longer. I was lying on the kitchen floor trying to catch my breath after he choked me and he...he grabbed a knife." Kayce inhaled harshly. "He made the cut on my face so if I ran away again it would be easy for him to find me. I could change my hair, wear hats, different clothes but everyone would remember the girl with a scar down her face." You could feel the rage emanating off of your boyfriend. "He made me clean up before he dragged me into the bedroom and...he..."

"He's dead. He's fucking dead." Kayce swore, knowing what happened next.

"After he said he would kill me if I ran away again, I didn't know what to do. If he found me after two weeks, I thought he would be able to find me anywhere. I did whatever he wanted because I was scared of him. I was miserable. I started thinking about e-ending it...me." Your voice was whisper quiet. Kayce gently pulled you onto his lap and leaned in, kissing your shoulder. You looked over and smiled at the sweet, caring man who was the opposite of your good-for-nothing ex.

"I was on the porch checking our mailbox one day when our neighbors came out to do the same thing. They saw me and invited me over for a glass of iced tea. I knew Nick wouldn't like it but they insisted so I did. While they were telling me about one of their recent trips my sweater slipped off my shoulder and they saw a bruise on my arm in the shape of a handprint. I told them Nick stopped me from falling down the stairs but I knew they didn't believe me. I tried to leave but they stopped me and begged me to leave him. I told them he wasn't as bad as they thought. By then they knew he was a cop and who his family was. They let me go, if I promised to visit them whenever Nick was at work. They were the only thing that put a real smile on my face. I loved spending time with them. Nine days before I was supposed to marry Nick I was at their house and they handed me an envelope. Inside was five thousand dollars and a fake ID and birth certificate. When James was a lawyer, there was a guy in his firm that had a case involving fake documents, he tracked him down and got him to make me some. They told me they had a bus ticket with my fake name on it that was leaving in forty-five minutes, and a suitcase full of clothes for me. I didn't want to go, I was scared Nick would find out they helped me. After he cut me he said if I ever run away again, he would kill anyone who helped me. But, they wouldn't take no for an answer. They had a wig for me to put on before I left so when he looked at the traffic cameras by the bus station he wouldn't know it was me. When they dropped me off they gave me the phone so he couldn't track my number. Before I got on the bus they gave me a hug and told me I was like the daughter they never had..." you swallowed before looking at him with tear-filled eyes. "If-if you don't want me to spend time with Tate anymore because of Nick, or you-"

"Stop." He cupped your face. "Nothing that that piece of shit did to you changes my mind." His perfect eyes pierced yours. "I love you, Letty."

"You-you don't have to say that because of what I told you."

"Baby, I fell in love with you the first time I saw you. Your hair was blowing in the wind as you stood in front of the house with your suitcase. I knew then that you were it for me. You are the kindest, strongest, bravest, most beautiful woman I've ever met. I am the luckiest man in the world because you let me call you mine." His voice was filled with emotion. "I love you, Violet."

"Kayc," tears started to fall from your eyes.

"I'm not expecting you to say it back. We can move as slow as you want, as you need. I'm not going anywhere." His thumbs brush the tears off your cheeks. "Can I kiss you?"

You leaned in and pressed your lips against his, giving him your answer. Your hands slid over his shoulders and pulled him closer as the kiss intensified. Nick disappeared from your mind and For the first time in you didn't how long, you wanted more.

When you finally parted you were both out of breath. "Letty?" He could feel this kiss was different.

"I...I want to..."

"But?" He knew you were holding something back.

"What if we start and I can't?"

"If you want to try and you need to stop then we stop."

You chewed on your lower lip nervously.

"Baby, I'm not going to be mad. I told you that I'm not going anywhere. You are the only woman I want to be with. I'll do whatever you need me to and wait however long you need."

You nodded slowly. "Can we try?" Your voice was quiet.

"Yeah, baby." His hand slid across your cheek. "Can I go outside and grab more firewood first? It's starting to cool off in here, you're starting to get cold." His thumb ran across your cheek.

"Mhm." You stood up and he followed suit.

"I'll be right back." He gave your forehead a soft kiss before going outside.

In the meantime, you grabbed the blankets off the couch and made a cozy spot on the floor in front of the wood stove.

He came back in with an arm full of already chopped logs that were piled up against the side of the cabin. A smile pulled at his lips when he saw the makeshift bed on the floor.

"I'm pretty sure that's the most uncomfortable couch in the world." You giggled shyly.

He put a couple of logs on the fire and set the rest on the floor before walking over. One of his hands went to your waist while the other came up and rested along your jaw. "Are you sure you want to do this? If you're not ready, it's okay. I'm perfectly happy just holdin' you."

"I want to." You swallowed. "I want you, Kayce."

"I'm yours, Violet." He leaned in and kissed you.

After a few seconds, the need you felt for the kiss to develop into something more returned and your fingers started unbuttoning his shirt. His hands left you so you could slide his shirt down his arms. As it fell to the floor, you pulled his T-shirt off. He unzipped his jeans and added them to the pile while you untied the straps of your dress. It pooled around your feet and his eyes took you in.

"You are perfect."

Red crept across your cheeks while he closed the distance, one hand went to your cheek while the other went back to your waist. You shivered from the sudden cool touch.

"Sorry."

"It's okay," you giggled.

"Come here." He sank down onto the blanket and you sat down on the floor next to him. "Better?"

You nodded as you immediately start to warm up from the fire and the blanket that he pulled over the two of you. Your hand came up and slid across his jaw before pulling him in.

His hands went to your waist and held you close while he kissed you. Your mouth parted, your tongue slid across his as the kiss quickly became heated. He unhooked your bra before slowly lying you down. Your lips finally parted and he hovered above you. "Do you want to keep going?"

"Yes."

"We can stop anytime you want to, just say the word. Okay?"

"Okay."

He sat back so he could take his boxers off and grab a condom from his wallet while you pulled your underwear off. His eyes traveled up your naked body before he crawled back between your legs. You nodded as he looked down at you so he reached between you and positioned himself before slowly entering you. Your eyes automatically closed and you tensed up.

He immediately pulled out. "Letty, open your eyes. Look at me." You did and the second you saw his warm brown eyes, you relaxed. His hand slid into your hair. "Do you want me to stop? We can and-"

"No, don't stop. Please."

"Stay with me, baby." His eyes pierced yours as he entered you for the second time. "Right here."

You nodded, keeping your eyes on his. "Mmm." A small moan escaped as he filled you. He slowly pulled out and gently thrust into you again, all while keeping your eyes glued to each others. Your ex and all of the terrible things he did vanished from your mind. It was just you and your cowboy. Your hands slid into his wavy hair and pulled him down, your lips met his fiercely. He kissed you back while continuing to move inside you. One of his hands stayed embedded in your hair, the other slid around your lower back and held you close. That small shift had him hitting just the right spot over and over again.

"Kayce," your fingers dug into the back of his shoulders.

His hold on you tightened, molding you to his body as he continued thrusting.

"Mmm," you moaned as heat began growing rapidly in your core. Your breathing picked up and within seconds he took you over the edge. "Kayc!"

"Letty." He was right behind you groaning your name. His eyes held yours until you both came down from your highs. When your breathing started to return to normal, he leaned in and gave you a long kiss before lying down next to you, propping himself up on his elbow. "Are you okay?"

You looked up at him and smiled. "I'm okay. More than okay." He chuckled huskily as he tucked your hair behind your ear. "Really though, I am."

"Are you sure, baby?"

"Yes. It was just you and me. Everything else, the memories, they disappeared." Your hand came up and rested on his cheek. "You are an amazing man, Kayce Dutton. You're kind and sweet. You were beyond patient with me and when you found out about my past you didn't run away. You make me feel normal again. You make me feel safe." Your thumb ran across his skin. "I love you."

He leaned down and pressed his lips against yours. When you parted there were tears in your eyes. "Hey, talk to me."

"I just...I'm happy. After the past couple of years, I never thought I would be again. Then I came here and found you and Tate. Your family and everyone here have been amazing."

He wiped away a tear that slipped from your eye. "This is your home now, Letty. He is never going to hurt you again. I won't let him get anywhere near you."

"Promise?" You asked while memories of the horrible things he did played through your head.

Kayce could tell what you were thinking and pulled you closer. "I promise."

"Thank you."

"I know I've said it before but I would do anything for you. I love you." His lips met yours and you melted in his arms.

When you parted, you both lay there nestled together under the blanket, listening to the crackle of the fire. All of the cows on the ranch were marked with the Yellowstone brand, a Y, but this was the first time you had seen the same brand on Kayce's chest. Your fingers traced over the raised, scarred letter that covered most of his left pec. "Did it hurt?"

"Yeah."

"Why did you do it?"

"I didn't, Dad did."

You quickly tilted your head back and looked at him with wide, watery eyes. The tone of his voice, you knew it wasn't because he asked his dad to do it. "Why?"

"Hey, shh." He smiled softly when he saw the tears in your eyes. "Come here." His arms tightened around you and pulled you close. After kissing you, he eased back onto the pillow. "I graduated a couple years before Tate's mom got pregnant. We met at a party and it was just a one-night stand. When she got pregnant, she came to the ranch because she heard about my family, the money. We found out that she got arrested regularly because of drinking. She didn't work and a lot of the money she did get from the tribe she spent on alcohol. She didn't want a kid and came out to say if I didn't either then she was going to get an abortion. But, if I did, she would keep it as long as we paid her. Dad said yes, as long as she didn't drink while she was pregnant. Dad even paid for an apartment for her to live in while she was pregnant because she couch surfed from place to place before. She didn't drink during the first four months but one day when Dad went to check in with her, he saw a couple of empty beer bottles. After that she did off and on until Tate was born. Thankfully, he was in perfect health. She didn't want anything to do with him and signed him over as soon as she could. That was the last we saw of her. She died a couple of months later. Her and the guy she was with were drinking and driving. They hit a tree." He took a deep breath before continuing. "It didn't really sink in that I was going to be a dad until the nurse came out to where Dad and I were waiting and handed him to me. He was so small. The first two weeks after we brought him home were rough. I was scared. I was still a kid, how was I supposed to take care of one? I didn't think I could, I didn't want to try...I panicked and joined the Navy. I could leave for training in a few days. Dad freaked out. He told me I wasn't going and had to stay and take care of my son. We argued, and when he realized I wasn't going to change my mind he did this. He thought that it would make me needing to stay here sink in. It didn't. I was angry at him, scared of my son...I left. That's when Dad hired Mrs. Sanders. While I was gone Jamie and Lee kept in touch; calling, letters. They sent pictures. I finally came to my senses when Tate turned six. I quit the Navy and came home. I-I know Im a horrible dad-"

"What? Kayce, no." You propped yourself up and turned his face towards yours. "You are an amazing dad. Tate loves you."

"I shouldn't have left. I was selfish and stupid and-"

"And, I know that you would take it back if you could."

"In a heartbeat. I would have stayed, I should have stayed."

"But, you've made up for it. You and Tate have an amazing relationship. He looks up to you. You're the foreman of the largest ranch in Montana, he wants to be just like you when he grows up." He nodded slowly. You knew what was going through his head. "What you told me doesn't change how I feel about you. You are a great dad, a hard worker, and the most amazing man I could have ever hoped for. I love you."

"I love you too, Letty." Your lips met for a searing kiss. "I don't know how I got lucky enough to find you."

"Technically, I think I found you."

A playful smirk pulled at the corners of his mouth and he chuckled. "I think you're right."

"I'm right? Wanna say that again?" You laughed when he squeezed your sides.

"You're right, this time. Don't get used to hearing it though." You giggled before starting to sit up.

"No." He whined.

"I'll be right back." You reached for his shirt that was lying close by and slipped it on, doing up a few buttons, before getting up and going to the kitchen. When you turned around with what you went to get, Kayce was watching you with a smile on his face. "What?"

"You look good in my shirt."

"Yeah?" You straddled his lap, after setting two bottles of water and the pizza box on the floor close by.

"Yeah." His hands went to your waist and pulled you close. "Stay here with me tonight? We don't have to do anything. I just want to fall asleep with you in my arms."

"What if I want to do that again?"

"We can do whatever you wanna do, baby." He smirked and it made you bite your lower lip. That smirk is going to drive me crazy...in a good way.

**************

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