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cherry-holmes · 6 months

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Glimpse of a life with Javier Peña

Chapter 15

MAIN MASTERLIST

Summary: Six months ago you spoke with Javi for the last time. Now, you tried to continue with your life without him.

SERIES MASTERLIST

Previous chapter

Pairing: Javier Peña x Female Reader

Word count: 6.9k

Warnings: Angst. Talk of depression. Mention of daddy issues. Brief description of reader’s body. I decide not to give more warnings to avoid spoilers, so keep the reading under your own responsibility, but in general this contains +18 material.

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I knew you

Leavin' like a father

Running like water, I

And when you are young, they assume you know nothing

But I knew you'd linger like a tattoo kiss

I knew you'd haunt all of my what-ifs

The smell of smoke would hang around this long

'Cause I knew everything when I was young

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Finally, on December 2, 1993, Pablo Escobar died in Medellín, bringing an end to years of violence and fear to the country. Of course, the ghosts of evil would linger over for a long time. The narcoviolence was a vicious cycle that corroded everything it touched. But for now, the police of Colombia and the DEA had shown that there were still good people and hope. Even if ir wasn't completely true.

When you saw Steve's photo in the newspaper, you felt proud of him, of course, but you knew that Javier deserved to be there too. He had given many years of sacrificing his own safety and personal life to fulfill his duty. There was no other American who had done as much for his country than Javier Peña. He deserved recognition, he deserved to be decorated and rewarded for his years of service.

But instead, he was being judged for using unorthodox methods to do his job. It wasn't ideal, but it was effective in the end. Who hasn't looked for alternatives in their most desperate moments? They didn't deserve a man like him. And now he was paying the price.

You hadn't heard anything about him since that last call, six months ago. You didn't know if he had been judged or sentenced yet. And you weren't sure if you even wanted to know.

Days turned into weeks, and before you knew it, weeks had turned into months. While everything around you seemed to continue its normal course, you felt stuck in Bogotá. Memories of warm nights with him, hurried breakfasts in his truck, and cozy dinners at home lingered, haunting you like ghosts of a past life. You tried to distract yourself, to focus on the routine of daily life, but thoughts of Javier lingered like shadows in the corners of your mind. You wore the necklace he gave you on your birthday like a charm. It was your most precious treasure, the three pearls representing the love he had for you and you for him. Your fingertips sought it out every time you felt down, sometimes unconsciously.

You found it difficult to concentrate on something else, your thoughts constantly drifting back to him, to the uncertainty that clouded his future.

You started to think that maybe the problem lay within you, that you were somehow unworthy of having the man you loved beside you. Doubts ate away at your confidence, questioning your worthiness of love in any form. In the late hours of the night, you grappled with the echoes of your past, recalling the pain of your father's abandonment when you were just a child. That trauma left a deep hole of abandonment in your heart, a wound that never fully healed. And now, facing Javier's absence, it felt like history was repeating itself. The two men you had loved the most had left you, leaving behind a trail of broken promises and shattered dreams. Yes, you still had your beloved grandfather, José, but in those moments of anxiety and depression, you couldn't help but wonder what was wrong with you to not been worthy of love.

Your mother wasn't very helping either, as she wasn't very kind towards you. She never asked you how you were now that you came back or told you she missed you. And when everything with Javi happened, she made cruel comments, hinting that for him you were just another woman and that it was your fault for sleeping with him and not respecting yourself.

However, you had your sisters who supported you through the grief, and the love of your abuelo meant everything.

He was a lawyer, and he offered you a temporary job on his independent buffet while you find a job that suit your requirements.

Losing your dream job as a translator in a foreign country, enduring very difficult situations that put your life in danger, and losing the love of your life—all the trauma and heartbreak left a hole in your chest. It felt as though a part of you was missing, as though you were navigating the world with a piece of your soul torn away.

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The Saturday sun bathed the cobblestone streets in a warm, golden glow as you emerged from the church, your heart still echoing the hymns of worship. Beside you, your beloved abuelo walked, his arm linked with yours, his weathered face radiant with the peace of faith.

"What do you want to eat, papá?" You asked him.

"Sarita told me about a new restaurant," he answered as your mother joined his side, "She said they have delicious barbacoa and consomé."

"I don't think you should eat that, papá," your mother intervened, her brow frowned. From the look on her face, you knew she was going to confront Sara for craving such food for grandpa. "The doctor said..."

"The doctor said many things, María," he replied firmly. "I'm going to die anyway, so I'm gonna eat my birria!"

You smiled to your abuelo's stubbornness, and although you knew that your mother could be right, you just couldn't help but want to fulfill his cravings.

"Okay, papá, we all going to have barbacoa," you promised.

Before your mother could say anything to you, your nephews and nieces ran by your side, pointing towards the churro seller.

"¡Tía, cómpranos churros!" they shouted, and you found yourself outnumbered by them.

"Okay, okay!" You smiled as you watched them bouncing in front of you. "Everyone line up by height and ask the señor de los churros nicely for yours."

Your nephews and nieces cheered at unison and ran towards the vending cart. Both your sisters insisted on pay for their own children churros, but you told them that you wanted to buy churros for everyone.

As your sisters and their husbands agreed with your grandfather and your mother to all go to eat to the restaurant Sara propose to your abuelo, you tried to help the churro's vendedor not going crazy with all four children. All of them were under ten years old, so you can imagine how noisy and playful – and troubling – they can be.

As the kids devoured their churros, you juggled between keeping an eye on them and ensuring they didn't wander off too far. Their laughter filled the air, echoing against the cobblestone streets as they ran around in playful abandon.

Guiding your nephews and nieces back to your family, you barely noticed the bustling activity around you until a familiar voice pierced through the chaos. "I've always known that you look even more beautiful around kids."

You froze in disbelief, your heart skipping a beat at the sound of his voice. You turned around and saw Javier standing there. For a moment, time seemed to stand still as you took in the sight of him. He looked different, yet somehow the same—the same rugged charm, the same warm gaze that had always captivated you. His mere presence was like a jolt of electricity, sending shivers down your spine and stirring emotions you thought long buried.

As the reality of his presence sank in, a whirlwind of emotions swept through you. Part of you wanted to run into his arms, to hold him close and never let go. Another part wanted to push him away, to confront him for leaving without a word, for breaking your heart with his silence.

But as you looked into his eyes, you saw the pain and regret reflected in his gaze—the same pain you had been carrying in your heart all these months. And in that moment, all your anger and hurt melted away, replaced by a flood of overwhelming love and longing.

"Javi?" your voice cracked, eyes inevitably flooded with tears. ''How...?''

"I'm sorry," he whispered, his voice barely above a breath. "I shouldn't have left you like that."

Without another word, you closed the distance between you, your heart pounding with anticipation. Javier's eyes softened as you reached out, your arms trembling as they closed around his torso. The touch was electrifying, sending a surge of warmth coursing through your veins.

You couldn't understand exactly how he was right there, what happened during all those months?, how the hell did he found you? But he was there, he was between your arms again... His warmth, his scent, his beating heart beneath your ear, were things you thought you would never feel again.

"¿Tía?" you heard the little voice of Ana, the youngest of your nieces, as she pulled the skirt of your dress. "Is this Javi? The boy you always cry for?"

You glanced down at her, innocent eyes wide with curiosity, and then back at Javier, uncertainty clouding your thoughts. How could you explain the complexities of love and loss to a child?

"Ana, come here," Silvia, her mother, approached to grab her. She looked at Javi and then back at your watering, reddened eyes. "Is everything okay?"

"Yeah," you answered, a smile prompting on your lips, blush coloring your cheeks. It was the first time in a long, long time that you felt a genuine sense of emotion and happiness since you arrived in your birth-town. "Silvi, this is Javi. Javi, this is my sister."

Javier extended his hand towards Silvia, a warm smile gracing his lips. "Nice to meet you, Silvia," he greeted, his voice gentle and sincere.

Silvia's expression changed upon recognizing his name. Her eyes softened as she shook Javier's hand. "Likewise," she replied, her eyes flickering with curiosity. Of course, she had memorized his name and appearance through the photos you had shown her and Sara of your time in Colombia with Javi. Your sisters had wiped your tears and listened to your heartbreaking cries for him.

You saw your family approaching you, everyone seeming curious and expectant. Your hands were shaking, your heart felt like it could punch through your chest. So had so many questions, so many things to say to him. Suddenly, you felt overwhelmed.

"Buenas tardes," your abuelo approached to you. You recognized that look on his face, the same he had every time you or your sisters met a new boy. Your abuelo had always been the jealous kind, but in a sweet way.

Javier greeted your abuelo, extending his hand in a gesture of respect. "Mucho gusto, Don José. Javier Peña," he said, his voice resonating with genuine warmth, remembering your grandfather's name.

Your abuelo's eyes twinkled mischievously as he shook Javier's hand. "¡Ah! So you're the famous Javier," he replied, his tone tinged with playful teasing.

Javi looked at you with a playful arched brow, causing your face turned completely red, like a tomato. You were the most gorgeous tomato he had ever seen in his life.

"Everyone, I want you to meet Javier," you said, gesturing towards him with a smile. "Javier, this is my family."

Your sisters and their husbands exchanged glances, their eyes bright with curiosity as they greeted Javier warmly. "Nice to meet you, Javier," Sara said, extending her hand.

Javier shook her hand with a polite nod. "You too. You must be Sara."

Sara chimed in, her excitement palpable. "Yeah, it's great to finally meet you in person."

Your mother, who had been observing quietly, offered a reserved nod of acknowledgment, her expression unreadable.

As the greetings subsided, Silvia turned to Javier. "Hey, why don't you join us for lunch at the restaurant? We'd love to have you."

Before Javier could respond, you interjected gently, "Actually, if you don't mind, I'd like to have a private conversation with Javier first. We can catch up with everyone later this afternoon at home."

Javier's stomach churned at your words. "Have a private conversation" sounded like you were about to have a serious discussion. He wasn't expecting you to receive him as if nothing happened, as if he hadn't broken your heart. He was surprised and relieved when you hugged him upon seeing him, but he thought it might have been just a quick reaction, an impulsive action prompted by the heat of the moment.

Silvia's eyebrows raised in surprise, but she nodded understandingly. "Of course, hermanita. We'll see you both at home then."

With a collective agreement, your family bid you and Javier farewell, dispersing toward the church's parking lot with chatter and laughter trailing behind them. You turned to Javier, a mixture of anticipation and nerves swirling in your chest, ready to finally have the private conversation you'd been yearning for.

"So, shall we take a taxi?" you said finally.

"Actually, I brought my truck," he said, pointing at the park across the street, where you saw a red 90s Chevrolet Silverado.

"You drove all the way here?" The thought of him driving three hours, crossing the border, just to see you stirred a whirlwind of emotions within you. It was both overwhelming and heartwarming to know that he had gone to such lengths to be with you.

"Of course, from Laredo" he confessed.

As you walked across the street towards his truck, the atmosphere between you felt familiar, bringing back a flood of memories. Javier unlocked the truck and held the door open for you, as you settled into the passenger seat, the scent of his cologne enveloped you, filling you with a sense of comfort.

Once you were there, feeling overwhelmed by his return, after everything you had been throgh being away from him, thinking he was even in jail. It was too much, you barely could process it... You finally broke, as soon as Javi closed the drivers door, you started crying.

Javier's heart ached as he watched you cry, his own emotions swirling inside him like a tempest. He reached out tentatively, his hand hovering over yours, unsure if he should offer comfort or give you space.

He called your sweet name in a way only he could. You felt shivers just hearing it, reminding you of the power he had over you.

You turned to him, tears streaming down your cheeks, your eyes filled with a mixture of sadness, relief, and confusion. "Why, Javi?" you whispered, your voice trembling with emotion. "Why did you leave me?"

Javier's heart clenched at the pain in your voice, the anguish etched into your features. He took a deep breath, steeling himself to face the truth, to lay bare his soul before you.

"I thought I was doing the right thing for you," he began, his voice barely above a whisper. "I was trying to protect you."

You wanted to ask again "why?" but you knew it was unnecessary because you understood why. He was trying to shield you from becoming attached to a convict, a man who was not physically free. It had taken you a long time to grasp the magnitude of the situation and his sacrifice. Javier Peña wasn't a selfish man.

"It's important to me for you to understand that at that moment everything seemed to be against me," he continued, his eyes staring at you with longing and desperation, as he feared you wouldn't want to hear him or wouldn't believe him. "Don Berna betrayed me and forced Judy Moncada to leave Colombia and spill everything about the DEA agent who was foolish enough to trust them. I was told that I had committed a federal crime by getting involved with Los Pepes."

For a moment, the gravity of his words left you speechless, grappling with the enormity of what he had endured. You knew firsthand the dangers and complexities of his work, but hearing the details of his ordeal sent a chill down your spine.

"I had to make a choice," Javier continued, his voice tinged with regret. "I couldn't risk your safety, not when everything was falling apart around me. I thought I was doing what was best for you, even if it meant sacrificing my own happiness."

New tears welled up in your eyes as you reached out to him, your hand trembling as it touched his. In that moment, words seemed inadequate to express the depth of your emotions, the overwhelming rush of love and forgiveness that flooded your heart.

"I missed you," you confessed, your voice barely contained. "I was devastated. Not only for how things between us ended, but for thinking about what would happen to you..."

Javier's gaze softened as he listened to your heartfelt words. He reached out, gently brushing away your tears with his thumb, his touch sending a wave of warmth through you.

"I missed you too, every moment," he admitted, his voice filled with raw emotion. "Not a day went by when I didn't think about you. Te amo."

"Javi?" you spoke softly, wiping your tears and turning your body to fully face him.

"Yes, bonita?" he said, and your stomach fluttered with thousands of butterflies that had been sleeping, waiting to hear that word he used to call you. Bonita, you'll always be his bonita.

"Kiss me already," you whispered, the words escaping your lips before you could hold them back.

With a tender smile, Javier leaned closer, his gaze softening as he brushed a stray tear from your cheek. The air between you crackled with anticipation, the weight of months apart dissipating with each heartbeat.

As his lips met yours, a surge of warmth washed over you, igniting a fire that had been smoldering deep within. You let out a shaky moan when his tongue met yours, sending electricity to your core.

Javi growled at your reaction. He was so needed of your touch, your kisses; that skin-to-skin sensation he sink in when he made love with you. Cause even during the darkest moments when he feared he might spend the rest of his life behind bars, he couldn't bring himself to be with anyone else. He was yours, in body and spirit.

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You and Javi were hungry and had so much to talk about. So you guided him through the city, searching for somewhere quiet to eat and converse. As he sat across from you at the table, perusing the menu, you still couldn't believe he was actually there—free and as handsome as ever. It felt like years had passed since Bogotá, the last time you saw him. Or maybe you suddenly died, your heart finally giving up missing him, and that was heaven.

Javi finally looked up from the menu, his gaze meeting yours. "Everything okay, sweetheart?" he asked, concern evident in his eyes as his broad hand reached across the table to touch yours.

"No... I mean, yes!" you said, your voice trailing off. "It's just... I'm so, so happy you're here, but I still can't process what happened."

Javi smiled, his eyes reflecting a mixture of tenderness and longing. "I promise, mi vida, I'll never leave you again," he vowed, his words a silent promise to cherish and protect you for as long as he lived.

The waiter approached, and you both placed your orders. After she left, you spoke again. "How did you find me?" you asked with genuine curiosity.

Monterrey was a sprawling metropolis, and in the '90s world, finding something or someone without an address or a phone number was no small feat.

Javier leaned forward, his expression radiating warmth. "It wasn't easy, but I remembered when you told me about going to church every Sunday with your family," he began, his voice low and intimate. "I recalled the name of the church and the municipality, so as soon as I arrived in the city, I searched for it. It took me all day yesterday, but I managed to get a lead, and it paid off. I found the right one."

You nodded, deeply impressed by his determination and resourcefulness. He was a proper DEA agent who spent years looking for and taking down sicarios. Of course, he was going to find his girlfriend on the first try. It was very sweet how he would do anything just to be with you, though, to have you back.

"I was fuckin' terrified that you were angry with me for leaving you like that," he continued, his voice tinged with regret. "Or worse, that you may have someone else already."

You looked at Javier, sensing the vulnerability in his eyes, and felt a pang of empathy. The thought of him fearing your anger or the possibility of you being with someone else touched you deeply.

"Javi, I could never be angry with you for trying to protect me," you said softly. "I was angry and devastated at first, I'm not gonna lie," you confessed, your chest aching with memories of those endless nights of overthinking and tears. "But it wasn't directed towards you, but towards life. I couldn't accept the decision you had to make, but with time, I came to understand that you only wished the best for me, and it was very sweet and unselfish."

You reached your delicate hand across the table to grasp his. "And as for someone else, there's never been anyone else for me. It's always been you."

His eyes softened, relief flooding his features as he squeezed your hand gently. "You're the only one for me, too, bonita. You're the best thing that could ever happen to this son of a bitch."

You leaned forward to kiss his lips. The familiarity of his touch was overwhelming and comforting at the same time.

When the meal was over and both of you were back in his truck, you asked him where he was staying.

Javier glanced at you, his expression thoughtful as he considered your question. He mentioned a hotel downtown, and you recognized it from what you had heard.

"You can stay a couple of days. I want to show you the city and introduce you properly to my family, if you don't mind," you proposed.

"Me encantaría pasar todo el tiempo del mundo contigo, mi vida preciosa," he said, and you flushed at the sweet nickname. "Actually, I was thinking about moving to a hotel closer to your house."

"That won't be necessary. You can stay with me," you offered without hesitation, feeling a rush of warmth at the idea of having him close again. "I'm living with my abuelo y mi mamá."

"I don't want to be a bother," he began, but you took his hand gently and looked into his puppy eyes.

"You're family now, and family never bothers," you assured him. "My abuelo has a spacious house, and you can stay in the guest bedroom. You know, we can sleep together..."

"That's okay, baby. I understand," he agreed, leaning over to place a kiss on your lips. "So, where do you want to go now? Wanna go home?" he asked, turning on the gear.

"Actually," you began, your cheeks burning and your heart pounding with anticipation, "I was thinking that we could go to your hotel."

With a mischievous grin, Javier glanced at you, his eyes alight with excitement. "Can we?" he asked, his voice filled with playful anticipation.

You smiled shyly, nodding as your cheeks turned cherry red. "Unless you want to spend the evening elsewhere."

Javier's eyes sparkled with amusement as he caught your playful tone. "Oh, I'm perfectly content to spend the evening wherever you desire," he replied, his voice laced with a hint of mischief.

You chuckled softly, feeling a rush of excitement tinged with nervousness.

"Be careful what you wish for, baby," he added, his voice filled with longing. "I've missed you so damn much."

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The hotel room was nice, elegant and spacious. But of course you didn't noticed that at first, as you were very busy devouring Javi's mouth. He guided you towards the bed, hands squeezing the soft flesh of your hips; yours cupping his head.

"I love you," he muttered against your mouth, pausing briefly as you unbuttoned his shirt. "You don't have any idea how much I needed you. I couldn't breathe..."

His voice wavered with emotion, and you couldn't help but notice the vulnerability in his tone. Your fingers brushed against his lips, a silent gesture of reassurance. You still had a lot of questions, things that you would like to know, but you were sure that you had a lot of time to do it. For example, when his next move was to get rid of his shirt and you saw the scar on his side, where you knew he had been shot. Your fingers traced the damaged skin, your throat constricting at the sight of him being hurt, where he could have lost his life...

In that moment, you didn't want to cry anymore, to regret things that, fortunately, were in the past now.

"I'm here," your voice was barely a whisper, but he was close enough to hear every word. "I'm not going anywhere."

Javi nodded in agreement, leaning in to meet your lips once again. His skilled fingers unzipped the back of your dress, sending shivers all over your body as his fingertips met your skin. The light fabric pooled around your feet, his gaze darkening as it roamed over your body with desire.

His hands captured your waist, caressing the skin of your ribs and hips. His touch felt desperate, yet gentle. His fingers traced the exposed, soft skin at the edge of your bra, then smoothly moved to unclasp it, freeing the lace that covered your breasts.

You were hypnotized by the waves of heat emanating from both your naked torsos. Restless to relive that skin-to-skin sensation you longed for so much.

"God, how I missed your body," he whispered, almost unconsciously, as he devoured you with his eyes.

Your cheeks flushed even more, a shy smile appearing on your lips. "And I missed your touch, Javi," you confessed back.

With a mischievous grin, Javier glanced at you, his eyes alight with excitement. "Did you?," his voice filled with playfulness. "Did you touch yourself when you missed me?" He wanted to know. You nodded, an innocent gesture that made his cock throb on his pants. "C'mere. Show me," he ordered, leading you to the bed, where he had you lie back in the center.

Javi knelt in front of you, between your legs, your core aching with anticipation. "C'mon, take your panties off," he ordered, and you gladly obeyed.

Pushing your hips up, you grasped the edges of your panties with your fingers and began to slide the garment down your legs.

He couldn't help but hiss when he saw the glistening between your folds, where your honey pooled for him. "Touch yourself, baby, just like how you did when you were thinking of me," he whispered.

You traced a path on your skin, from the place above your belly button, down your body until your delicate middle finger met your slick. Javier was mesmerized as he watched you move up and down along your pussy, taking extra care every time you reached your clit, causing little whimpers to escape from your lips.

Suddenly, Javi felt his pants getting tighter; it was almost painful not to free himself. His hands went to his belt, and he started working on it. "Keep going," he encouraged you, as your eyes followed the glorious path of pubic hair that preceded his cock. You bit your lip, intensifying the movements on your pussy, the sound of your wetness filling the room.

"Don't be shy," he said, his voice thick with lust. "That little pussy looks so good."

You took his word and inserted one finger into your warm body. His breath quivered at the sight; he couldn't contain himself anymore.

"How does it feel?" he asked, as he took his hardened cock out of his briefs. You whimpered at the sight, your walls clenching, as if they were screaming to be stretched by its length. Javi took himself in hand and started jerking off to satisfy his own itch.

"G-good," you mumbled. It was true, but you knew it was nothing compared to the feeling of his cock inside you. So you added a second finger to try to calm your urgency, the gushing sounds surrounding you as you moved your fingers in and out of your pussy. But it wasn't enough. You wanted him.

"Javi..." you murmured.

"Tell me, bonita," he responded, his voice filled with anticipation. "Tell me what you want."

"I want you," you said, without stopping your movements.

"You want me? You want this?" he teased, showing off his cock right in front of you. A pearl of precum glistened on its tip, veins pulsating along its length. Your mouth watered at the sight. "C'mon, take it. It's yours."

He didn't have to tell you twice. You stopped what you were doing and knelt on the mattress to press your body against his. Your hand went directly to his cock, eliciting a growl from his chest.

Javi's cock fit perfectly in your tiny hand as you moved it up and down while kissing him passionately.

You let your body fall over his, and he didn't hesitate to allow himself to be placed underneath you. Your lips then moved to his neck, traveling down to his chest, his stomach... When he realized you were actually going south, he took your chin and made you look at him.

"That's not necessary..." he clarify. He wasn't expecting that.

"I want to," you insisted.

Without another word, you positioned yourself right over his cock, taking it in your hand and placing a kiss on its tip. "Fuck..." he reacted.

You were unsure what to do, as it was the first time you'd done it. You only wanted to make him feel good.

So you tried licking its head, the salty taste on your tongue making your pussy clench around nothing. Then, you attempted to take the head into your warm mouth. You had to open your mouth wider than you expected, your hand gently placed on its base. It was too big, hard, and too long.

You bobbed your head at a constant rhythm, encouraged by the moans and hisses he began to let out. Javi's hand went to your hair, gathering it into a ponytail, both to let you work easily and to clear his view. "Good job, baby," he praised.

When you tried to go further, its head at the back of your throat made you gag, so you had to take a breath. "Take it easy," he said reassuringly as he tucked a stray strand of your hair behind your ear. "You're doin' amazing."

You went back to it, but this time a little lower. "Holy shhh..." he growled, feeling the wetness and warmth of your tongue licking his balls. They tasted salty, heavy on your lips. You closed your hand around his length, moving it up and down to please him. Slurping noises filled the room, amplifying the intensity. "You look so pretty taking my cock like that baby."

You alternated between using your mouth and your hand on his cock and his balls, growing more confident with each movement, trying to take him deeper as you could. Your mouth felt like heaven for him, but he needed to stop. He wanted to fuck to you properly instead of just cum on your tongue. There would be another chance for that.

After a moment, Javi sat on the bed and gestured for you to do the same. You could barely catch your breath before his mouth captured yours, his arm around your waist. You knelt in front of him, providing easy access to your breasts, and he didn't miss the opportunity, capturing one of your nipples into his mouth. You threw your head back, moaning at the sensation, your fingers tangled in his hair.

He worshipped your body, squeezing your hips and back, massaging your ass with his broad hands. Then his fingers found your soaked pussy, taking advantage of how wet you were as he introduced one of them inside you. You whimpered, moving your hips over his hand, desperate to quell the need for him. He added a second thick finger, stretching you so damn good. They slipped in and out without effort, and Javi could feel your slick running down the bare palm of his hand.

Javi licked the sensitive skin of your nipple before shifting to your other breast. He sucked and played with the tip of his tongue on the nipple, just like he did when he played with your clit, like a starved man.

"Javi..." you whimpered.

Once he was satisfied with how wet you were, he guided his cock to your entrance as you instinctively lowered your hips. Both of you moaned as he made his way inside you, stretching your walls. The sensation was painfully familiar for both of you, the feeling of being connected in an intimate, raw way. It was as if you were born for each other, like you belonged together beyond the physical realm.

He didn't waste any time, going straight to help you move over him. Once you understood the assignment, your hips started working almost on their own. "That's it, bonita, give it to me."

You could feel him very deep inside you, his tip brushing against the entrance of your cervix, his balls thrusting against you every time you went down.

Your arms wrapped around his neck, pulling him closer to kiss him, engaging in a battle of tongues and a tangle of legs.

"Your cock feels amazing, mi amor, la extrañé mucho," you whispered in his ear before you bite his earlobe.

"That's why you wanted to suck my cock?" he asked, his fingers gripping tighter on your hips, urging you to move faster. "My fuckin' dirty girl, so right for me..."

"Wanna see how dirty I can get?" placing your hands on his chest, you pushed him back so he could lie down again.

He was pleased with the view. The curves of your body, every roll, every pore, every freckle, every stretch mark. You were so sexy and gorgeous.

He tried to reach for your body, but you took his wrists and placed them over his head. You started moving your hips: up and down, front and back. At first, it was slow, savoring every inch of his cock slipping inside you. Then, you moved faster, riding him as whimpers escaped from your mouth, joining the skin-to-skin sound of your bodies thrusting together. Your hands went to his chest for more balance as you rode him.

"That's it, baby. Don't stop...fuck..." he grunted, his hands on your ass to help you keep going.

You slowed down when your legs began to ache, leaning down to capture his lips. His broad, warm hands caressed your hair, trailing down to your shoulders and back until they reached your waist. With a swift, smooth movement, Javi turned you around. Before you could process it, your body was beneath his, and he penetrated you again. This time, the soft moan you made when you felt him inside was silenced by his mouth.

"I love you, bonita," he promised, moving his pelvis against yours.

With your hands cupping his head, little whimpers escaping your lips, you echoed the sentiment. "I love you so much, Javi."

His thrusts grew harder and faster, his arms bearing his weight to avoid crushing you. His growls and whimpers were music to your ears. Your lips caressed the soft skin of his neck, your hands roamed everywhere along his broad back. He was lost in you, shivers crossing his entire being every time he reached that deep spot inside you, eliciting cries of his name from your lips.

"You like that, bonita? Hm?" he breathed out, his voice captivated by his own pleasure. "Fuck, I love your pussy."

Your orgasm was so close, he could tell by the way your walls clenched around his length, and the rivers of your nectar emanating from your cunt. You tried to warn him, but you could only mumble as your body shuddered beneath him. "I know, baby... Fuck, I'm gonna cum too."

You felt how he was doubtful about his next move. He wanted you to come, of course, but he was so dangerously close to his own release that he needed to be careful not to come inside you. But you were so horny and lost on the pleasure that you knew you want his load dripping out your pussy.

So you tangled your legs around his torso, forcing him inside you. "I'm gonna cum..." he warned.

"It's okay... I want you to fill me up..." you moan.

"Yeah? That's what you want, honey?" He cooed, his lips placing soft, wet kissed on your jawline.

You nodded, "Ye-yes! Fuck, Javiii!" that's the only thing you could say, as his movements were almost erratic, hungrily against you.

"I'm gonna fuck a baby into you... What about that?" he grunted, the mere thought of it made the both of you shiver with pleasure.

"Yes! Oh my... Yes! I-wa.... I'm wanna have your baby, Javi," you mumbled, so lost on the moment that you couldn't even think about the weight of the words you spoke.

"I'm gonna cum so deep on you that you're gonna smell like me for days, baby."

Those were the words that made you finally lost it. Your entire body seemed to implode for a moment before it exploded on a devastating orgasm. Throwing your head back against the mattress, your nails digging on the muscles of his arms and toes curling as your squirted on his cock. A silent scream of pleasure took the shape of Javi's name.

With one last final thrust, Javier followed you reaching his release between deep-voice whimpers and grunts of your name over and over again. You felt his warm load filling up, mixing with your slick, making you clenched even more, milking him so damn good.

As he felt himself softening, he pulled out and lay beside you as both of you tried to catch your breath again. Finally, Javi wrapped his arms around you, pulling you close to his chest, the warmth of his body comforting against your skin. You lay there together in silence, the only sounds filling the room were the rhythmic beating of your hearts and the soft exhales as you both recovered from the intensity of your lovemaking.

After a while, Javier felt your body shake a bit, and it wasn't long before he heard you sniffing. Were you crying? He tried to see your face, but you hid from him with your face against his chest. It was evident that you were crying. He felt a pang in his chest, concern washing over his face as he tried to make you look up at him.

"Are you okay?" he asked, his voice charged with worry and guilt. "Did I hurt you?"

"No, no," you rushed to say, wiping your tears with your fingers as his brushed your hair and placed it behind your ear. "You didn't do anything. I'm just so happy."

Javier's expression softened as he pulled you closer, wrapping his arms around you protectively. "I'm here, mi amor," he murmured, pressing a gentle kiss to your forehead. "I'm not leaving you ever again."

You melted into his embrace, feeling safe and loved in his arms, the bliss of your orgasms still lingering on your bodies. After a moment of silence, he spoke again, his fingers gently tracing circles on your back. "I really meant it."

Struggling not to fall asleep, since you still had to return to your grandfather's house, you asked, "What?" Your voice was soft, barely audible above the hushed rhythm of your breathing.

"I want to have babies with you." His words hung in the air, tinged with both sincerity and excitement.

You flushed, a warmth spreading across your cheeks as you processed his declaration. Your heart started to beat faster, and you didn’t even think he was completely serious yet.

"Well, we have to get married first, then," you replied, a hint of playfulness in your tone.

"I know,” he added, determination on his tone, “I'm going to ask your grandfather for your hand tomorrow." His eyes meeting yours with unwavering resolve.

"Are you serious?" Your voice was tinged with surprise, a mixture of disbelief and anticipation.

Javier nodded, his gaze softening as he tucked a loose strand of hair behind your ear. "Absolutely serious," he affirmed, his tone earnest. "¿Quieres casarte conmigo?”

Your heart fluttered at his words, a rush of emotions welling up inside you. New tears of joy fell down your cheeks as you nodded repeatedly. "¡Sí! Sí quiero, Javi. Quiero casarme contigo," you admitted, a smile tugging at the corners of your lips.

"Then it's settled," he declared, pressing a tender kiss to your forehead, pulling you closer to him again. "Tomorrow, I'll talk to your grandfather, and soon after, we'll start planning our wedding."

You nestled closer to him, feeling a sense of contentment wash over you. You still couldn’t believe what was happening in that moment. Just that morning, your heart ached with his absence, and you couldn't imagine seeing him ever again. If someone had told you that same afternoon you would be in his arms again, making love with him, and practically engaged, you wouldn't have believed it. You would have thought it was a cruel joke. And yet, there he was with you, vowing to share a life together.

NEXT CHAPTER

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chlobliviate · 2 months

Text

Wolfstar Microfic - Win

Words: 809

@wolfstarmicrofic

🌙✨🌙✨🌙

The ten-year Hogwarts reunion had been an interesting evening so far. While a lot, maybe even most, of their classmates were married, many with kids, neither Sirius nor Remus had settled down. In fact, they were still sharing the house just outside Hogsmeade that Sirius had bought with his inheritance from his uncle. James, Lily and Pete had also lived there at various times over the last decade, but it had just been the two of them for over six years now.

While doing the rounds at the reunion, Sirius found himself fielding questions about Remus, in the same way that he was sure James was fielding questions about Lily, and Pete about Mary. By the time he went back to sit with Remus at their table, he was amused.

"I'll bet you twenty quid that someone is going to just outright ask us if we're dating by the end of the night." He said, causing Remus to choke on his wine. He rubbed Remus’ back until he could breathe again and then realised this was probably the kind of thing that made people think they were dating.

"No chance. I'll never win that bet.” Remus spluttered. “They’re not exactly subtle.”

“Fine then, we bet on who will come over and ask us outright. Whoever loses has to buy dinner tonight." They’d made plans to floo into Edinburgh, have a late dinner at the Pompadour and stay overnight so they could both have a drink.

“Ah yes, dinner. That’s a prime example of why we're not beating the dating allegations." Remus’ eyes sparkled dangerously.

"Are you taking the bet or not?” Sirius huffed. “My money’s on Emmeline. She’s going to come over and say ‘I say, lads, did you finally get yourselves together?’” He imitated Emmeline’s high-pitched, posh voice.

"Well, if she does I'm going to kiss you on the mouth and then tell her never in a million years.” Sirius blinked at him, surprised. “My money’s on…” He scanned the room, “Edgar. He always had a thing for you.”

“He did?” Sirius followed Remus’ gaze. “Those jeans are really working for him, to be fair.”

“And what if someone else comes and asks, or nobody asks?” Remus leaned his head on his hand and looked at Sirius, he already regretted the last glass of wine.

“Oh, somebody’s bound to ask.” Sirius grinned. “I’ve just had half an hour of ‘How’s Remus?’, ‘Remus is looking well’, ‘You and Remus look so happy’.”

“Well, that's… nice?” He mumbled. “Oh, shit. Edgar and Emmeline are on their way over.”

“It’s going to be a photo finish.” Sirius ruffled Remus’ curls affectionately before turning to smile at their approaching friends. At the last moment, Emmeline caught sight of Mary Macdonald and changed direction. Sirius frowned.

“Remus!” Edgar grinned, sitting down opposite him, “Long time no see!”

“Must be a decade.” Remus smiled at him, and there was something in his eyes that made Sirius suddenly feel like he was intruding. Interesting. “How’s things?”

“Oh, can’t complain. Been working for the Department of Mysteries for a while now.”

“Sounds interesting.” Remus nodded.

“What about you?” Edgar asked politely.

“You’re looking at the longest-serving Defence Against the Dark Arts Professor for decades, Bones.” Sirius butted in as Remus shrugged humbly.

“Oh, incredible!” Edgar said to Remus, pointedly ignoring Sirius. “You always were an amazing tutor, I bet the kids love you.”

“I wouldn’t go that far, but it’s very rewarding.” Remus looked over at Sirius. “Not as rewarding as being a healer, but…”

“No, it’s every bit as rewarding,” Sirius said. “You don’t even have to clean up sick, so maybe more rewarding.”

“So you two are finally together, then?" Edgar asked, somewhat dejectedly.

"Please, he couldn't tie me down even if he tried,” Remus said, not looking back at Edgar. The corners of his mouth twitched as Sirius gasped dramatically. “No, we just live together. Bachelor pad.”

Edgar seemed to perk up slightly at this but still didn’t look convinced. “Ah, right, sorry for assuming, Re. Look, if you fancy going for a drink one night, here’s my number.” He produced a ministry business card and slid it across the table to Remus.

“Thank you,” Remus smiled at him mildly. “That would be nice. I’ll be in touch.” Edgar nodded as he stood up and looked around, before heading towards Emmeline and Mary.

“You think I couldn’t tie you down?” Sirius murmured in Remus’ ear, sending a shiver up his spine. “Challenge accepted.”

Remus leant back to look at Sirius. His eyes were mostly pupil, with a slither of grey around them, a blush sat on his aristocratic cheekbones and his jaw was set. Eyes never leaving Sirius’, his voice was low, “Alright then, since you’re buying dinner anyway. Do your worst. Give me the full Sirius Black date experience. Prove me wrong.”

🌙✨🌙✨🌙

[Notes:

At some point during dinner:

"Wait, I thought you said that Edgar had always been into me," said Sirius.

"Oh, did I say that he was into you?" Remus smirked, "I meant me."

And Sirius is like damn he played me, and I'm not even mad.]

#fanfic #wolfstar #ao3 #fanfiction #remus lupin #sirius black #remus x sirius #marauders #wolfstar microfic #remus loves sirius #sirius loves remus #sirius x remus #sirius being sirius

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sillylittlegirlthoughts · 1 month

Text

rekindling | chrismd

Jersey had been your home for the past 28 years. Moving away was long overdue. London seemed like the place to go, the capital. So be it. Boxes were littered all over your flat. Your staring burning holes in the cardboard. Finally standing up and stretching tearing open the first box. You brought it to the kitchen and began to make the place yours. In your bedroom, six hours later the newly placed clock read 19:47. You decided to take it easy putting on mindless television and pouring a generous glass of wine.

A box solely dedicated to knick knacks, little trinkets and a few shoeboxes filled with memories. Placing some little plants around your room along with many a teddies who you refused to let go of. The shoeboxes were all getting pushed under the bed without a question when one flung open and the contents spilled out.

It was your earliest memory box.

You found yourself neglecting the remainders of your packing and your sole focus being on the spilled shoe box. A ticket to Harry Potter and the half-blood prince. A movie you went to see with your closest childhood friends. Friends you hadn’t heard from in a while. Some photos. You remember going to print yourself. You, Chris and Arthur all squished together. Faces bright red after spending all afternoon in a trampoline park. Another one, taken with your childhood dog. The last one was just you and Chris hugging eachother after you blew out your candles on your 13th birthday cake.

You missed them. You weren’t going to lie. Nothing you could do about it. Life happens. Although. You couldn’t take your mind off the two boys. The boys you loved so dearly. An Instagram search wouldn’t hurt, right?

You knew both of them pursued YouTube and yes in the early days you kept ho to date with them. However, it seemed they had gotten incredibly big. You smiled, you couldn’t not. You were so proud of them both. They looked well and seemed to be happy where they are. You thought about following them. You thought how crazy is that thought. Then you did it. Following them both. They had thousands of followers anyway, they wouldn’t realise.

chris & arthurs pov

You didn’t pick a great time to do that, considering they were sitting together, amongst two other friends— Arthur Hill and George Clarke. Chris jumped, seeing the notification. “Y/n y/l/n?” He spoke, ArthurTV’s eyes instantly widening. He wondering why Chris mentioned her so abruptly. “What?” His voice was slightly high pitched. The other two guys sort of just glanced at one another each feeling a Deja vu feeling to your name. They watched as they scrambled instantly looking at your account.

“It’s her, mate.”

Chris noticed the confused look on his friends faces. “Y/n— she was me and Arthur’s best friend. We haven’t heard from her in forever.” George nodded, “So, are you gonna contact her?”ArthurTV flinched, startled by the idea of rekindling. He didn’t know if childhood friends could become friends again considering so many aspects of their lives had changed since then.

“Uh, I don’t know if that’s the greatest idea.” Arthur (tv) mummered and Chris gave him a glare. Chris’ head was already thinking of how great this reconnection could be. How much their other friends would just adore her. “Why not? She followed us. We followed her. We can’t just do that and move on,” Chris sighed. “Right, look. Just say hello. If she doesn’t reply it’s not the end of the world.”

“You message her Chris, you always were closer to her.”

your pov

You had been staring at the chat between you and Chris thinking of anyway to start a conversation, until he sent you one first.

chris: hi y/n, how have you been?

y/n: hi chris, i’ve been good recently got my dream job so i suppose not to bad. how have you been?

chris: you’re a writer? that’s amazing. I’ve been good. YouTube still going strong.

She smiled at that message, after all fo these years he still remembered her passion for writing fantasy novels.

a few weeks later

Chris and Arthur had made plans with Y/n, to see her again and catch up on everything they had missed. Unfortunately, Arthur has been working like crazy at the moment and Chris can’t bare to know that Y/n is in London and he is not visiting her. Therefore, it was just Chris and Y/n.

Chris embraced her in a tight hug, his arms going around her waist holding her as tight as ever. Her arms went around his neck smiling into his hoodie. They sat down at their seats at the café. “I couldn’t believe it when you followed me. I must’ve checked ten times to make sure it was definitely you.” Chris chuckled turning towards the girl who had grown to be even more beautiful than he remembered. “Yeah well, when I was moving I was putting my memory boxes away,” Chris hummed remembering how you’d gather any physical memory of occasions. “One spilled open and it was just filled with memories of the three of us. I couldn’t help but try and find you guys. Which wasn’t too hard.”

“Yeah, I can imagine. We were both extremely happy. Quite ironic actually, we were just talking about you the other day.” He spoke softly, Y/n humming along as she admired him. He had let his hair form naturally his curls forming. He had grown a beard. The first time he ever had facial hair. It was long but it suited him.

Chris later got home, the smile never fading from his lips. Once he arrived through the door he found everyone sitting on the sofa. “You’re home earlier than expected.” ArthurTV mummered. “As are you. Are you not meant to be shooting?” Chris questioned his friend who sighed and explained how the video ended up being significantly shorter than anticipated. “Someone looks giddy,” George Clarke teased, laughing as he saw his friends face. Completely lost in his thoughts about Y/n. “He’s fancied her since they were 12. Im not suprised it’s rekindled.”

Chris retorted some rude joke towards his three mates who continued teasing him profusely.

He may have left out the part when they kissed.

authors note!

hey sorry for the delay on this one and it is much shorter than i would’ve like but i didn’t want to delay putting it out any longer than i already have. i love the idea of two people rekindling so here you go.

#chrismd #sidemen #willne #calfreezy #callux #chris dixon #ethan payne #george clarkey #harry w2s #james marriott #youtube #arthur hill #arthurtv #italian

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thatfreshi · 1 year

Text

Always (Uni AU P. 16)

Thank you all for patiently waiting :)

tw - mentions of abuse, grooming

Your eyes flutter open slowly, unsure of exactly where you are. When you move your head, you feel the bone in Astarion's shoulder, and remember the night prior. When you realize you indeed were asleep on him, you jerk back up.

"What time is it?"

"Almost six. You must've been tired."

He puts his phone down and sits his head on his knees.

"You alright?"

"Just not looking forward to today. Twelve-hour day, nine to nine, no breaks."

"Sounds horrible."

"It does, doesn't it? And I haven't slept in days either."

He gets out of bed reluctantly and goes to the closet, almost tripping over nothing.

"You could probably spare some time to lay down a little longer."

"No, sadly I can't. The location is an hour away, I still have to get ready, and I have to pick up some things on the way. All of that and maybe find time to eat something."

He methodically looks through the many fabrics, finding a silk dress shirt. Thoughtlessly, Astarion throws off the sweater from yesterday, revealing what appears to be many scars across his back.

"Holy shit."

You don't mean for the words to stumble out the way they do, but it's not often you see someone's skin decorated in old wounds.

"Right, forgot I hadn't told you about all of those. Though to be honest, I've never seen them."

He quickly puts on his newly chosen shirt, fiddling with the buttons on the sleeves.

"Are they-"

"From Cazador? Of course."

"Why?"

"Why what?"

"Why did he do it?"

He stops in his tracks, dumbfounded once again by you and your questions.

"I mean, there's always plenty of reasons to him. Misstep on the catwalk, look the wrong way in a photo, make him look bad in front of someone else in the industry. He does his punishments in private obviously, but you always know when you're due for one. Always."

Light steps make their way to the kitchen to get some coffee. You follow, silently.

"Sorry. I know I have more of a stomach for this kind of thing than you do."

"You shouldn't have the stomach for it at all."

"You think I don't know that?"

He turns to meet your eyes, and then sighs, leaning against the counter.

"Really, I am sorry. I'm just very irritable right now."

"Anything I can do?'

"No, I think I just need to be by myself, for the little time I have. I'm sorry."

"Stop apologizing."

He perks up at that.

"Why?"

"I mean, none of this is your fault. No need to apologize about things out of your control. Besides, I ask about all of it anyways. If you need alone time, you need alone time."

He's so used to 'sorry's, even if they aren't always genuine. Sorry when he's at Cazador's whim, sorry to people he's looped into horrific schemes, sorry any time he fucks up. Most recently, he's so incredibly apologetic to you, the way he's fallen for you, the way he can't bring himself to leave you alone, the way you always ask about the worst of it and he almost always shares. That look in your eyes when you see him hurt, he's been trying to avoid it, because it makes him feel monstrous.

"Anyways, I hope it's not all that bad today. If you need something, let me know, okay?"

You grab all your things from the night before, and make your way towards the door.

"Okay. Thank you Tav."

You smile.

"Of course Aster, anything for you, any time, anywhere. Always."

He almost says something when you walk out the door, but simply has his mouth agape, watching you walk away after saying probably the nicest thing he's heard in years.

When you make your way back to your dorm room, you hear shouting from inside, which you can only assume is Shadow and Lae arguing again. Then, when you walk in, you realize it's actually Gale's voice going back and forth with your moody roommate. Lae'zel seems to be absent from the dorm.

"Gale, you can't be fucking serious. You're sleeping with a professor? Not just any professor, but Mystra? Really? Are you that fucking stupid?"

"We are not just sleeping together, it's a real relationship. We have something special Shadowheart, not that you would particularly understand that."

"No, no you don't have something special with her, she's using you. You work for her, she's your teacher! She can decide your entire academic future on a whim!"

"No one better to fall in love with then, right?"

"Oh, fall in love? You, you are not in love with her, and she is certainly not in love with you. She's using you and your naivety Gale."

You hear her voice crack at this point, the concern for her best friend seeping through.

"Oh, so I'm naive now? Great to know you think so highly of me Shadow. You were begging me to tell you, I thought you'd be happy for me!"

"I'm not listening to this. When you want to have a real conversation, and not just make me feel like I'm crazy for worrying about you, come and find me."

Her door slams, and she storms past you in the living space, rushing out of the dorm. Gale slowly makes his way out of her room, not expecting you to be waiting.

"And now you know too, wonderful. Are you also going to call me insane for being in love, or are you capable of being reasonable?"

No words come to mind. Instead of sitting around waiting for a response, he walks right past you, off to brood in his room alone. You decide to try and find your roommate, just to make sure she's alright, and possibly get the rest of the story. Despite your efforts, you find none of your strange friends. It's as if campus has been entirely deserted. With the new chill in the air as Fall becomes even more intense, you find yourself feeling lonely, and even sad. So, you do what any other reasonable college student would, and you go grab a coffee and throw yourself into some assignments.

Essays, discussion boards, projects, powerpoints, they all sort of just blur together. Word counts become meaningless, rubrics are like unspeakable languages, emails are a life-sucking endless void of nothing. You close your laptop and stare at the ceiling, wondering why you're even sad to begin with, why all of this seems like treacherous work. Your mind floats back to Astarion, as it often does. Perhaps he was the cause of your melancholy, him and all the scars you had seen that morning. But now it's hours later, close to nightfall, and you barely have anything to show for it.

That's when Karlach and Gale show up, which helps you snap out of the mood a little bit.

"She'll come around Gale! I may not get it, but hey, we all just gotta do our own thing."

The two of them sit at your lonely little table, and Gale sighs.

"Well Tav, how's the rest of the day been?"

"Uneventful. Sad. Boring."

Gale nods in agreement.

"Oh cheer up you two! There's still time left in the night, things can get better!"

You can't help but crack a smile.

"You know what Karlach? You're right, and just for that, I'm going to get us all a little treat."

The two of them insist that you shouldn't, but you're already walking off to the coffee bar that's going to close soon. You buy a couple of stupid little candies, just to make sure everyone will have something they enjoy. You thank the barista and walk back to the table. On the way, you feel at your pocket for your phone, but it's not there.

"Must've left it at the table."

And you were right, because when you look back up Karlach is receiving a call on your phone. You walk over to try and figure out who she possibly could've answered, mouthing a question to her. She tells you to shush, her eyes far more serious than normal.

"What do you mean he's in the hospital?"

Her voice cracks when she asks, and without thinking you snatch your phone out of her hands.

#baldur's gate 3 #astarion #astarion x reader #astarion x tav #angst #freshiau #gale of waterdeep #karlach #shadowheart

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heyidkyay · 1 year

Text

Havin' to be human |

As it's October and Halloween is by far one of my favourite holidays, I thought I'd write something a little different than usual! This is another Matty fic, not sure how long it'll be but if it's well liked I'll post a second part? Happy October, hope you enjoy it:)

Summary: There's a fine line between the living and the dead. I realised that at a very young age and still have yet to escape it- even after forcing myself to move miles away from home. It seems that you can't escape much though in Wilmslow either, not the dead, not overly-involved flatmates, and certainly not the curly haired lad that stands hanging about in cafe's. But when have things ever been easy for me?

“Would you like another biscuit, deary?”

I glance up from my slight daze and draw my eyes away from the staircase sat just outside the living room door to meet the older woman’s weary smile. I’m fine with the six she’s already handed me but I can’t find it in myself to deny her, so I just nod minutely and give her another quiet thank you.

“Sorry about all this, I’m sure he’ll be in any second now.” The woman, Mrs O’Donald, tells me, still fiddling with the biscuit tin. It's one of those metal ones you usually find in old people’s houses, full to the brim with either shortbread or sewing needles. Always one or the other.

“It’s no worry. I don’t mind waiting, I’ve nowhere else to be.” I assure her but she just nods quickly and then starts rearranging the table for the seventh time. I leave her to it, knowing it must bring her some sense of comfort. She seems the type, the many figurines littering the shelves are all in perfect position and the cushions on the sofa look practically untouched.

But while she does that, my gaze ultimately drags its way back over to the doorway, to the bottom step of the staircase where I can still see a tiny hand gripping the banister bar, the rest of the body hidden behind the living room door’s wooden frame. It's eery but I can't keep myself from looking.

I cough lightly after a moment and rest my teacup back on the coffee table, making sure to use one of the many coasters offered, “If you don’t mind me asking, Mrs O’Donald-”

“Rosie, please.”

With a polite smile, I nod. “Rosie.” I correct myself and don’t pay attention to the light tremors in her right hand as she refills my cup once more, I say nothing about it. “I was just going to ask if you had any more children, other than Andrew, of course.”

I’m a little startled then by the way her entire demeanour seems to shift then, as though my question has triggered something deep within her. Gone are the faint tremors and stuttering pleasantries, she’s now sat deathly still, the fidgeting and the strained smile she’s worn since the moment I’d arrived have vanished.

“Just one other.” Mrs O’Donald, or rather Rosie, answers me, her eyes caught on the fireplace mantle now, where a plethora of neatly arranged photo frames crowd together, all of them silver and very detailed.

“Oh,” I reply quietly in return, deciding now to tread with a little caution after having witnessed her previous response, “Are there many years between them?”

The older woman seems to swallow then, her throat bobs and her thin lips tighten, before her eyes dart back to me. I try not to outwardly react, not to still under their sudden scrutiny, their coldness.

“Why? Who told you to ask that?” She immediately quizzes me, hunching further in her armchair now that it takes a great strength in me to keep from cowering back in my own.

“No one.” I hurry to reassure her, and I can hear the tight pitch of my voice, how bewildered I sound. “No one, Mrs O’Donald. I just, I just wanted to know a little more about Andrew. That's all.”

Mrs O’Donald nods then at my lie, but my assurance seems to ebb her sudden worries, which gifts me no reprieve. At all. I’ve often gotten myself into some odd situations, some even more strange than this, but the woman’s reaction to such a simple question is so peculiar that it instantly sets me on edge, not to mention that the little hand on the staircase has vanished now.

Fucking Frankie and all her meddling, I could wring her neck right about now! I think to myself helplessly.

Frankie’s my roommate, you see, we’ve been friends since I’d first moved to town, since I’d left London and got on the first train that had been leaving the platform. I’d seen her ad in the newsagents outside the local train station, all bejewelled and with this ditzy font, and had headed into a nearby cafe to give her a call. She’d been two months behind on rent and had been desperate enough to tack up her spare room on the bulletin board there for a couple hundred quid a month. Then along came me and well, I’d had nowhere else to go.

We’ve been as thick as thieves from the get go though, she’d actually been one to arrange this rather impromptu excursion, having set me up with a lad she knew from secondary that was apparently ‘my exact type’. Not that she really knew what that was, in truth, Frankie knew nothing of actual importance about me, even though we were dead close. She had no idea why I’d even left home, or why I’d come to Wilmslow of all places, and had never once bothered me about it.

My sex life, on the other hand, was something she loved to bug me about to no apparent end. Enough that I’d finally relented and agreed for her to set me up with this mate of hers after having seen a picture of him on Facebook, if only for the reason she’d let this whole thing go. I was perfectly content being on my own, preferred it actually, even when it sometimes grew harder having to keep everything to myself all the time, scared to let people near. But that was just life, wasn’t it, and life was so much easier when everyone around me was none the wiser to my… situation.

Mrs O’Donald appears to have softened a bit now and I try to return the gesture when she gives me a shaky smile. “Sorry, it’s just. It’s hard, even now, to talk about, you know.”

Fuck. I struggle to keep my smile.

“I didn’t mean to pry.” I’m quick to tell her, my chest tightening as I draw in another slow breath. I can see that the small hand is back now, there, just out of the corner of my eye. “We can pretend that I didn’t even ask, hey?”

The woman just shakes her head at me though and for the millionth time today I wish I’d never stepped foot through that fucking door.

“It’s fine. I’m fine.” Mrs O’Donald says, although I’m pretty sure she’s only doing it to reassure herself. “It was a long, long time ago. Gary says it does me no good to linger on the memory. And our Andrew’s the same.”

I have zero fucking idea as to who Gary could possibly be, her husband maybe? But I don’t even ask, just willing myself to pop out of existence then and there. Or for her pink puffy chaise longue to eat me whole.

“Right.” Is all I can bring myself to say, and it’s then that my mind finally relents in its stubbornness and allows my eyes to wander back over towards the staircase again, only I’m not fully prepared for what I see. The hand is still there, only now it’s joined by another, the pair of them bracketing a wan head with unrelenting eyes.

I jump on instinct at the image and send the teacup I’d taken to cradling again soaring through the air. Mrs O’Donald jumps too, though her reaction is solely down to me, and I find myself so surprised that all I can really do is ramble, “I am so sorry. Honestly, I don’t know what came over me. I’m so, so sorry, Mrs O’Donald. Here let me-”

The woman, who appears to be in better shape now that she has something to occupy herself with, is waving my apologies away freely, a tea towel already in hand as she pivots around to wipe up the spilled tea. “Not to worry, dear. I’m the same somedays, just one of those things, I suppose.”

“Yeah,” I breathe out, though my stare is still stuck on the staircase and the tiny little boy staring back at me through its wooden railings. “Just one of those things.” I murmur.

To say I made a clean break for it after that, would’ve been an absolute lie, seeing as how the second I tried to say my goodbyes to Mrs O’Donald, claiming that I suddenly felt a bit under the weather and apologising once again for the spillage, did Andrew walk through the front door.

“Oh Andrew! You’re just in time.” Mrs O’Donald all but beams, a total contrast to the woman who’s been serving me tea and biscuits in her living room for the past twenty minutes. She hurries over to the front door to properly welcome him in whilst I linger in the hallway, only a foot away from the bottom of the staircase, trying incredibly hard not to concentrate on the soundless feet kicking at the skirting-board.

So before Andrew could even utter a word to me, or simply breathe in my direction, I was slipping between the pair of them and out the front door before you could say ‘goodbye’. I practically legged it down their street, even as Andrew called out after me in obvious confusion, and didn’t stop running until I was far too winded and amongst the noise of the high-street in town.

I wasn’t always like this. I swear.

It had started out with whispers, mostly soft and indistinct, but occasionally a single voice would stand out amongst the others. I’d be on the motorway in mum’s car and suddenly hear ‘Look out, oh God, look out!’ in a frenzied voice that would quickly cut off, or ‘Such a fucking slag, knew she’d move right on-’ on the walk home from school, and even ‘Are you sure I locked the front door before we left?’ whenever I bypassed the house at the end of this one street.

They’d drift in and out of oscillation like a poorly tuned radio. Sometimes the voices are fuzzy, almost silent and barely there, whilst other times they can be so real and immediate that they have me spinning around in a circle trying to work out who’s talking.

It quickly grew from there though, the voices went from being carried on a nonexistent wave to falling from faintly drawn lips caught in a blur of movement. I’d see them just out of the corner of my eye, whenever I’d turn a bend or glance over my shoulder. The visions also made me pause abruptly, stop to catch the breath that had left me, they were like trails of smoke caught on the wind, like wisps from a candle freshly blown out. But even after that, with the seeing and the hearing, things still changed. The blurry images adapted, became more evident, more vivid. They went from hazy chance glances to people crowding busy intersections or sitting by a bridge. Had little girls with snapped necks living in my childhood bedroom and the neighbours lost dog sniffing around my ankles.

Even then though they tended to loop, to say the same things, and follow the same path. The little girl back home would often climb the stairs at night and I’d hear her footfalls, never a step mistook, always the same pattern, the same beat. Always repeating, apologising, crying. Enough that it started to drain me, enough so that I could no longer sleep in that house at night. Enough to force me out and away.

Only recently have they started to interact more, see that I truly am there, that I can see them as much as they can see me. They don’t appear to forget as much either. Don’t repeat like they did for so many of the years before. When I ask them questions, they can choose to answer, they differentiate from their previous paths, follow me about with a questioning gaze instead of continuing the same cycle.

That little boy back at the O’Donald’s house, he was one of them. He knew I’d seen him too. From the second I’d sat down. But he’d been reluctant to come any closer than the staircase, why I don’t know, but I chose not to dwell too long on it.

I finally breathe a sigh of relief when I see the front door to our flat, all pretty with the wreath Frankie had adorned it with, not to mention the brightly coloured paint that set it vastly apart from the rest of the street’s. I don’t think I’d ever been more thankful to see it, in fact, not even after that first time when Frankie had invited me inside and let me call it home.

“Oi, and there you are! Honestly, what do you think you’re playing at? I’ve just had Andrew on the phone, ranting away! Said he just got in through the door when you all but bolted your way out of the house to run like a mad man on a mission down the street! I mean, what on Earth were you-” I’ve just slipped into the warmth of our little two bed and Frankie pauses the second she rounds the corner to the hallway, catching the gaunt face I’m sporting. “Oh, shit. You alright?”

I can only chuckle as I struggle to remove the coat I’d thrown on earlier. “Oh me? I’m fine!” I huff sarcastically, all but chucking the leather jacket up onto one of the hangers we have in the hall, “Fucking brill, me!" I add, but I’m still fighting for breath as I slump against the wall slightly to cast her a narrow-eyed glance, “Why the fuck didn’t you tell me Andrew had a dead little brother?”

“He what?” Frankie shoots straight back, eyes as wide as bowling balls and bleached eyebrows practically hitting her hairline.

“Andrew. Dead brother.” I repeat, forcing myself back onto steady feet so that I can slip past her and head into the kitchen, “What is there not to get about that?”

“No I definitely got it, just… processing?” She replies in that familiar twang of hers, voice carrying its way through the flat.

“How could you not think to tell me, of all people, that tiny little detail?” I complain in a whiney groan as I set to sticking the kettle on, I'm still struggling to wrap my head around the whole ordeal and sitting honestly feels like the worst thing I could possibly do.

I hear her footfalls follow shortly behind me and when they stop I glance up to find her stood in the doorway, eyes still wide as ever.

“I didn’t know.” Is what Frankie settles on, her arms hanging limply by her sides, “I didn’t know.”

I pause immediately. Her words well and truly hitting me like a truck.

“Oh, oh shit, Fran. God, I’m so sorry.” I hurry to apologise, a hand covering my mouth as she slowly makes her way across the kitchen tiles. “I didn’t even think. I had no idea. Fuck."

A startled laugh escapes her at that, but I know there’s no real humour in it. “Yeah, me either.”

We just stand there staring at each other for a long while, both in obvious shock. Me trying to get over the experience, her coming to terms with the newfound information I'd all but thrown in her face.

It’s the kettle whistling that sets the two of us back into motion. I look over to it and then back at her, we both seem to just move on instinct then, her heading to the fridge for the milk, semi-skimmed for her, almond for me, and I grab two mugs to fill with the usual brand of tea.

A quiet settles after that, until we’re both curled up on the sofa at least, tele on low and a brew in hand. Fran’s taken to sprawling herself across her end whilst I crowd myself up against the sofa’s back, knees touching my chest.

“So, dead little brother?”

I hum lowly at the cut in the silence, watching Fran's expression from over the rim of my cup, steam hazing the view.

“How dead we talking here?”

I roll my eyes but can’t help the breathy laugh that escapes me as I grip my mug a little tighter, mainly just wanting the warmth. There always came an unrelenting cold whenever dealing with the dead, and I was almost always cold these days.

“Pretty dead.” I tell her, pursing my lips when the image of his little face comes to the forefront of my mind, “He had these dark circles around his eyes, big and blue. He looked so,” I draw in a breath, “I don’t know, he just looked so small and bony. Wasting almost.”

“Cheers.” I snap myself out of it and look back over when I hear Frankie’s voice, I wince at the expression she now wears, all pale and pensive, though trying her best to cover it up.

“Sorry.” I mumble, but she merely waves me off, shaking herself out of it before she takes a sip of her milky brew.

“Don’t matter, just, can’t believe I never knew of it.” She exhales heavily, “He was young though, yeah? So like maybe he died back when Andy were a kid or summat.”

My eyes narrow in thought, “I don’t reckon so, when I asked whether she had any other children Mrs O’Donald got all weird about it, she just changed all of a sudden, and then when I wondered the same thing you just did, I questioned how many years were between them- the boys, I mean. She switched up, Fran. Like, gone was the wobbly old woman and there was this massive fuckin’ viper ready to strike me down.”

“Weird.” Frankie comments and she pulls the face she makes whenever something doesn't sit right with her. “Never seen her act like that, was always so skittish whenever we saw her out. Her husband never let her leave the house much though, my mum reckoned they had a bit of a domestic going on.”

I find myself glancing out the living room window, mulling her words over as well as the entire situation. “Maybe. The kid seemed withdrawn too, didn’t move from off the staircase the whole time I was there.”

“They usually move about then?” I hear Fran ask me and I hum as I blink, “These ghosts of yours...”

A small smile graces my lips and I roll my eyes once more before turning back to her, “They’re not my ghosts. And yeah, typically. Sometimes they’re stuck in a loop-”

“What, like reliving their death?” She grimaces at the very notion.

“Yeah,” I admit a little reluctantly, because it always seems to make me feel uneasy whenever I linger too long on it. “But then they sort of become more animate once they know I can see them too.”

“Oh, so you’re sort of like a battery then?”

“Pardon?” I snort, unable to help myself.

“A battery!” Frankie parrots a little livelier this time, smiling over at me as she pushes herself to sit up properly. “You like power them and crap, give them the energy to step off the path, you know?”

I wrinkle my nose, “Never thought of it like that.”

“‘Course not! But that’s why you have me, in’t it?” Fran snipes back, settling her tea down on the coffee table to give me her full focus. “Tell me more about Andrew’s brother then, did he say anything, do anything?”

I sigh whilst shaking my head, saddened by the fact that I now feel as though I have to set my cup down too. Frankie seems to get like this sometimes, where she gets overly excited by the things that intrigue her. When I’d first mentioned all this seeing spirits thing to her- it was only after I’d taken a trip with her to her nan’s house and seen her grandad mowing the grass- I’d still been getting used to the whole change in sight thing and had waved to the old man in the garden as we’d walked by, only realising just after that Frankie's grandad had been dead almost ten years. Fran had been eager to learn more once she’d pestered me enough into coming clean about the whole thing. Not once has she made me regret telling her though.

“He didn’t say anything, just kept looking. Watching.” I tell her truthfully, thinking back to the boy's empty eyes.

“Creepy.”

I chuck a cushion at her for that, which she only narrowly avoids by ducking, it skids across the living room floor and bumps against the tall cabinet we brought home a few weeks ago. “Not creepy, just, he’s dead, Fran. It’s all, well, it's all a little bit creepy but they're still people.”

She just shrugs and gestures for me to continue.

I sigh, “He wouldn’t leave the staircase, even when Andrew came home. Most times ghosts will just carry out their tasks, but sometimes when loved ones are near they’ll deviate and track them instead. This kid just sat there though, watching his mum and brother as he kicked his feet off the skirting-board at the bottom of the stairs."

Frankie hums as she listens, but then pipes up with “Did he die there then, on the staircase maybe?” when I’ve finished and it breaks me from my own train of thought.

“‘Spose so, bit grim to think about though. Could’ve just tripped and fell, hit his head, died instantly.” I reply, chewing on my bottom lip as I fight not to think of any other scenario that could’ve occurred. Fran, on the other hand, is not like that though- meaning, I wouldn’t be surprised if she came home one day and told me she was going to become Wilmslow’s next big detective.

“Could’ve been pushed too, by the dad maybe? He wasn’t much of man, bit too short, too hefty, and had the ugliest mug you'd ever seen- me and mum always wondered how he’d managed to score a pretty thing like Mrs O’Donald.”

I purse my lips and inhale, “Could’ve been any of them if we’re going down that route.”

I feel more than see Frankie still then. “What, you reckon Mrs O’Donald could have done it?”

“Maybe,” I shrug a single shoulder, picking up my mug again. “I mean, she changed so quickly when I was there and I’d only been with her twenty minutes. Never know what could’ve happened behind closed doors.”

“Shit.” Fran murmurs and I almost feel bad when I add, “Could’ve just as easily been Andrew too.” Because her head snaps up so quickly she actually winces.

“What? No. Not Andrew, he’s far too lovely! Even in school he was well liked, everyone wanted to be his mate.” Frankie argues, adamant as she shakes her head. “There’s no way.”

“Okay, didn’t mean to upset you, babe, but I was only mentioning it. Everyone has a story, Fran, have things that they hide, that they don’t want other people to see.”

Frankie shakes her head and releases a heavy breath, sat cross-legged now, “No, I’m not upset. Well I am, but only ‘cause I set you up with him- and what does that say about me if he’s a killer!”

I pause entirely at that, before I can’t help the laugh that bubbles up out of my throat, throwing another cushion that does actually hit her this time. “You’re such a fucking self-obsessed twat.”

“Oi!” She immediately retorts, chucking the pillow straight back at me. “I’m not, but just- could you imagine? I’d have to rethink my entire life!”

I roll my eyes, “You’re such a drama queen.”

“And you, my dear, are in dire need of a good shag. So I apologise that I’m the only one here with their head screwed on straight.” She stretches over the settee to grab at her cup, wrinkling her nose when she finds it to now be cold, though she still drinks it. “But at least we can rule Andy out now, even if he didn’t push his brother down the stairs I don’t think he’ll be wanting to see you again.”

“Oh ta, Fran. I’m a catch, thank you very much.” I snark, all bark and no bite. “But yeah, glad we can put all this shit behind us now.”

“Um, no. That is not what I said. Now it just means that we can move onto the next guy on the list!”

“List?!” I squawk indignantly, Frankie just grins all shark like.

“Huh, I figured you would have worked that out by now. You’ve been here seven months, babe, so that means I’ve had thirty something weeks to work out a catalogue of people who might have yet to catch your eye.”

“Frankie.” I warn.

But she just keeps on grinning, the cow. “You can thank me for it later.”

And she leaves it at that, pushing up off the sofa to stand and make her way back into the kitchen, “Fancy another?” She asks me with her raised mug in hand. I huff but ultimately nod, not looking forward to this charade she’s been apparently been planning in her head for months now.

It’s a couple days later and the dust has barely settled when Fran asks me to meet up with her in this local coffee shop just off the main street in town. It’s her absolute favourite, she used to frequent it all the time up until her ex from college got a job there, but according to the rumour mill he apparently just got the sack after having been caught selling on the side- “coffee and a baggie, please and thanks.” Anyway, Frankie had been over the moon to hear about it and had popped in first chance she got, came home grinning that same afternoon with a latte in hand and a lemon loaf to share in the other.

The loaf was to die for though, so I couldn’t blame her for the ruthlessness and understood why she was so keen to meet up there. I only wished she’d given me a bit more notice, I’d been halfway through researching a little more into the O’Donalds- because I could never seem to let anything go- that I’d barely even had the chance to run a brush through my hair. Still, I managed to make it in time and found myself smiling as I pushed through the door to the shop, a warmth wafting over me.

My eyes scan the crowd first, it’s not busy, only a handful of people litter the open space, but the cafe’s really welcoming, makes it feel like a place you can come to hideaway, what with all the dim lighting and wood furnishing. I step in further but can’t seem to catch sight of Fran just yet, so I pull out my phone to shoot her a text, figuring I can just order while I wait. Only, she’s apparently already beat me to it, texted I mean, telling me that she won’t be able to make it, that something came up, and then practically demanding me to stay and try the place out.

It’s a heavy sigh that I let go of as I send her off a quick reply and tuck my phone back into my pocket, feeling a little miffed about the fact that she’d forced me out of the flat only to bail at the very last second.

“You alright?”

I blink at the sudden voice and instinctively glance up to find its owner, a curly haired male leaning against the shop’s counter looks me over with the beginnings of a smile.

My brows shoot up on their own accord and I glance over my shoulder to make sure that he’s actually talking to me, which seemingly makes him laugh.

“Yeah, I meant you there, Dottie.” He says and when I look back over he’s sporting a proper grin.

I frown at the gifted name and tilt my head down in confusion to peer at the outfit I’d chosen, “What?”

“Your scarf.” He tells me with a jerk of his chin, gesturing towards the silk square I’d used to tie my hair back only half an hour earlier. Instantly I reach up to touch it whilst he merely smirks, sharp eyes still trained on me.

“Oh, um. Yeah I’m alright, why?”

He simply shrugs and it’s with that gesture that I catch sight of the guitar case behind him, it’s a similar colour to that of his eyes but covered in an array of stickers and pins. “Look like you’ve been stood up or something, face is all... sad.”

I can’t help the airy chuckle that escapes me, he’s hit the nail on the head there. “Not sad, more like pissed off.” I shoot back and step closer to the counter to get a better look at what they’ve got to offer. I’m already here, so who would it hurt if I grabbed myself a treat?

“Ah, so you were stood up then!”

I turn my head towards him now that we’re standing more in line with one another, his hip resting against the display case, me facing the chalked boards. “Could say that. Was meant to be meeting my flatmate here, but turns out she couldn’t make it.”

He hums, pursing his lips a tad as he watches me and I just let him, looking back up towards the menu- only, it’d be much easier to see if I was wearing my glasses. Hated the things though, made me look all square, like my head was too big for my shoulders or something. Stupid, I know. But I suppose I was just that vain.

Frankie would laugh about it if she were actually here, I think, already knowing about the blur I’d been met with.

“You work here then?” I quiz the guy, figuring I could either just get a simple breakfast tea or… “Know what’s best to get?”

At my question, he seems to shift so that he’s truly facing me and I note the wooden stirrer he’s holding between his teeth, as well as the way his eyes flitter across my face. “Don’t work here, no. Just waiting for my mate to finish up with his shift, though I am in here enough to know that the honey bee cortado is an actual, honest to God, blessing.”

“That so?”

That smile of his widens, his stare relentless even as a tall, curly haired boy clad in a green apron wanders in from the back.

“G, make this girl one of your specials, will you?” He says to the barista, or ‘G’ rather, who doesn’t even bat an eye at the ask, so I’m guessing that this is a usual thing. “That’s George, by the way,” The stranger beside me states, “And I’m Matty.” Weirdly he extends a hand out to me with that and I feel mostly amused as I reach out to take it, shaking his with a smile that can’t be helped.

“Y/n.” I return.

Matty hisses between clenched teeth, looking as though my name has actually injured him somehow, my hand still cradled in his. “Nah, sorry, can’t get behind that. Don’t suit you.” He flashes a quick glance over his shoulder at the barista or well, said mate George, “Doesn’t suit her does it, G?”

“Don’t suit her.” George answers with a minute shake of his head, fiddling away with the coffee machine. His tone’s gruff, matches his stoney exterior a bit, but I can see the small curve of his mouth as he flicks a lever.

“See?” Matty practically beams, extending the hand not holding mine outwards to further exaggerate his point. “Dottie though, I like that.”

“Makes me sound like an old woman.” I huff, wrinkling my nose enough that my brows crowd towards one another.

“And still, you set my heart racing, darling.” He swoons theatrically and I can’t not roll my eyes at him before glancing downwards once more.

“You gonna gimme my hand back anytime soon, or?” I ask and Matty seems to realise then that he’s still in fact got my hand held in his, but that revelation only has him grinning harder and he moves to swing the joint pair between us both. He’s far too sure of himself, I deem.

“Nah, been chilly all morning, ain’t it? So I reckon I’m doing you a favour by warming you up.”

I raise a single brow- yup, what a cocky little shit. “Could always order yourself a brew if you’re cold.”

He pulls a face at my suggestion, “Wouldn’t feel the same though, would it?”

“Well, it looks as though you’re times up anyway, seems George here has just finished with my drink.” I reply, smiling as I move to step away, but Matty holds strong, leaving his guitar case to lean against the counter alone while he follows after me. I chuckle, shaking my head at him, “You always this needy?”

Matty hums but he’s nothing if not persistent, “Might be. Why, would that put you off?”

I narrow my eyes at him but turn to grab at the mug George has pushed onto the counter. “Might do.” I say, unable to help myself, “But sweaty palms do, and I also need my hand free to pay for this.”

Matty’s chocolate coloured eyes drop down to my mug and then back up to George, who’s stood waiting patiently by the till. “I’ll get it.” He suddenly tells me and then immediately starts riffling through his coat pocket. I blink, look between both him and George, who still appears as though this is nothing to be surprised about, and it’s only when Matty withdraws a crumpled fiver from his back pocket do I find my voice.

“You’re fine! It’s alright, I can get it, honest. But thanks.”

Matty waves me off, awkwardly what with him still holding both my hand and the newly acclaimed five pound note, then rolls his eyes at my rambling, “Nah honestly, I’ve got it. Least I can do for forcing you to put up with G’s crappy coffee.”

George just snorts, snatching the fiver from his mate’s hand, while I purse my lips slightly, “I thought you claimed it to be an honest to a God blessing? If this is shit, I’m holding you accountable.”

“Ignore him, it’s instinctual for him to be a twat.” George sighs as he closes up the till, Matty’s brow furrows.

“Oi firstly, you’re the twat. And secondly, where’s my change?”

“In my tip jar.” George is quick to retort, forcing a pleased grin for his friend before he’s walking his way back through the door he came from, “I’ll be two minutes, yeah? And you’d better be ready to leave ‘cause I’m not dealing with Adam’s bitching again.”

Matty just tuts and I realise that now it’s just him and I in a shop full of people who’ve been watching this entire exchange. “Ignore him,” He tells me, “Well, don’t. Adam will definitely be pissed if we’re late, but a couple minutes for you won’t hurt anybody.”

I just shake my head, hoping to hide my smile as I pick up the recently brewed coffee to take a sip. It turns out that as well as being an arrogant prat, Matty is also a liar, because the drink is heaven sent and I prove it with the soft sigh that falls from my lips. “Fuck, that’s really good.”

When I glance back up I’m only a tad embarrassed by my reaction when I see Matty’s cheeky smirk, even more so when he wets his bottom lip and I have to force myself to look away.

“G’s known for his coffee around here, should see the Yelp reviews from the yummy mummy’s that stop in after dropping their kids off at playgroup- we actually spent an entire night reading through them once, taking shots every time G cringed.” Matty reveals with a conspiratorial grin and he seems to delight in hearing me laugh.

“I can almost imagine it.”

He hums, this low thing that resonates from deep within, “Should join us one time.”

“Us?”

When Matty nods his whole body moves with it, as though the rest of him disdains the thought of being left idle, the thought makes me smile. “Yeah, got this band. Four of us, me and a few mates. Should come see us rehearse, if you’re up for it.”

I squint back at him, not refusing the offer but wondering over it. “We’ve only just met, what if this is all a plan to lure me into your music obsessed cult?”

“Well, if it’s a cult, it’s a fucking small one. But I don’t think we’ll be Britain’s next Manson family so I reckon you’ll be alright.” Matty quips back and I just nod, taking another sip to hide my growing grin.

“You do this a lot, don’t you?” I can’t help but say, and at the tilt of Matty’s questioning head I carry on, “Flirt and hope you can rope some poor girl into bed by saying you’re in a band. Play ‘em a few chords and flash that smile, not that I’d blame them.”

Matty appears to take it in stride though and doesn’t even comment on the assumption, “And why wouldn’t you blame them? Is it the charming smile, or am I just that fit?”

I snort, then cover my mouth to keep myself from spitting out the sip I’d taken, only a little ashamed by the noise I’d just made. “No, think it’s more down to the fact that you’ve still to let go of my hand. Reckon even if I say no, you’ll still find a way to drag me along with you.”

“Ah, how you wound me, darling!” And our connected palms start swaying again, I realise in the next moment, after having looked down, that Matty’s closed the distance between us even further. I startle only slightly when my eyes lock right onto his. “So, how about it then? You coming or staying?”

And just as I’m about to reply, biting back the smile that wants to overwhelm my face, do I see him again. Just out of the corner of my eye. The flicker of a face pressed up against the shop’s window. I still instantly and the cup slips from my hand.

The boy, it’s the O’Donald boy and he's staring right back at me.

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isthehorsevideocute · 1 year

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#2Raw2Ride and why horse people everywhere are alarmed

I was surprised that no one has mentioned 2raw2ride through this blog yet though given the vast majority of media coverage on this guy I've seen us from equestrian content creators I suppose not a lot of non equestrians have heard about this.

For those not in the know, there is a social media clout chaser who according to him quit his six figure job so he could plan a ride on horseback from Austin TX to Seattle WA. This in of itself is not a bad thing but, he has made so many decisions that has alarmed the horse world. Many people have done this kind of trek on horseback but it takes a lot of preparation for you as the rider and for the horses.

The man in question bought this horse who was basically a pasture pet about a month before he started this ride. He is riding a single horse and has not brought along a pack animal. There was and still is no evidence that he has maped out planned stops for resting and supplies. His plan was to make the over 2000 mile trip in 100 days on this singular horse which has not been conditioned for endurance riding. The kind of physical conditioning necessary would take a year of training at least but the horse had no more than 30 days and it's showing through the fact the horse was startomg to deteriorate in body condition from day 1. Here are some images clearly showing his drop in weight.

This was the horse the day he was tried for purchase

He was a chunky boy. Perhaps borderline overweight

This was when he owned the horse but before he left on the trip

Also notice the fact the horse has marks where the saddle would be indicating irritation already. Id say this is a good body condition but instead of stopping here it kept going. Pay attention to the slope of the hip to the tail and the slope of the belly

This is the horse on the day of departure

In the 30 days he owned him before the ride the horse dropped a ton of weight

This was a photo from last week

you can start to see the spine showing from the croup (top of hip to the tail). And th belly no longer has that uniform slope. It's actually becoming concave behind the ribcage. Compare the neck here to the first image. Huge difference.

On top of the weight loss, the horse has shown signs of soreness in the left hind since he left. If this was an official endurance ride, the horse would not have been cleared to make this trip in the first place.

There have been several red flags that many have pointed out that indicates this guy has not educated himself and lacks the horse experience he claims to have.

Improper use of equipment and lack of ability positively identify the equipment he is using

When going over his equipment, he shows the bit and refers to it as a " snaffle" so let's look at bit that could be considered a "snaffle"

These are snaffle bits. A snaffle is categorized as a bit which applies direct pressure to the mouth. In other words the amount of pressure you apply to the reins is what the horse feels.

Now let's look at what he is using

So this is a JR Cowhorse bit and it looks like this

Now this does not quality as a snaffle, it is instead classified as a curb or leverage but because it is designed to put a leverage action on the horse's mouth. Whatever pressure you apply to the reins, the horse will feel multiplied making this harsher by design than a snaffle. On top of that this but has a twisted wire mouthpiece which is one of the harshest mouthpieces there is.

Please also take note of the way the bit is positioned. See how the part that's on top (the lever) is longer than the part on the bottom (the shank). The screenshot from his video has the shorter portion on the bottom and the longer portion on top. The bit is upside down. But wait it gets worse. Bits are generally designed with a curve to the mouthpiece so it can follow the natural curvature of the mouth to make it more comfortable for the horse

Here's the bit i use for my mare who is sensitive near he front teeth. A nice dramatic curvature that is easy to see

Comfy

Now this is a curvy bit if it was backwards

Ouch

Guess what. Not only is the guy's bit upside-down, it's actually also backwards. This makes an already uncomfortable bit even more uncomfortable for this horse who is spending hours a day in it.

Mr. Experienced horseman also doesn't know how to tie a rope halter correctly

This is how he tied it

This is how it should be tied

Knot below the loop or the knot will loosen

The guy said on the news he has ridden for many years and was a champion show jumper. Funny. No one can find a show record on the guy.

2. Not understanding how to properly feed and hydrate a horse under these conditions

In his video going over what he packed, he pulled out a bottle of corn oil and a clearly unused mineral block.

Corn oil is not a good thing to feed a performance horse, because it's pro inflammatory. You're just making an already sore horse more sore. Not to mention any corn product that starts to go bad can make a horse extremely sick. The unused mineral lick shows that the horse is not getting enough electrolytes. Even given free choice many horses don't get enough electrolytes so they need to be added to feed or given in paste form, but all he seems to have is the block. The horse has been showing outward signs of dehydration and with drought season in Texas just around the corner it's not looking great.

3. Lack of emergency supplies (specifically for the horse)

In the same video he showed off what he has in the med kit for his horse.

-thrush medication

-a flathead screwdriver

-two pain meds (both halfway gone when the video was taken 🤔. Also would not be competition legal for welfare purposes as if your horse is on these they are not well enough to tax themselves)

The screwdriver is supposedly so he can remove a shoe, but no you can't remove a shoe with a screwdriver. You'd need at least a couple of farrier tools to take a shoe off even if it is already half off.

This is not at all efficient packing. What he does have is mostly useless added weight and what he doesn't have is vital supplies. If this horse starts to bleed out or needs a hoof packed good fing luck.

4. the hematoma

Ah of course the swelling on this poor horse's belly

jury's still out in what actually caused this but given its location it is either a gaul from an ill fitted girth or from spur irritation.

5. Constant backpedaling

First he stated he would not take donations for this ride. One week later he put his linktree up in his instagram profile stating that donations would go to feeding and caring for the horse. I assume people. Allrd him out on it so now he states it goes toward buying beer. He also has taken more rest days than he said he would and he's been slowing way down on his updates. He allegedly even (finally) contacted the long riders guild asking for help (after rejecting help many times before). It seems even he is starting to notice how ill prepared he is.

Anyways don't feed this guys clout. Don't give him attention and don't give him money. He's a liar and a horse abuser and it seems to him any attention is good attention.

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icallhimjoey · 2 years

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To Have And To Scold

♥ ♥ Joseph Quinn x Fem!Reader

Summary: Your best friends are getting married, and who else can they ask to be their best man and maid of honour but you and Joe? It's just that... you don't really get along all that well, do you? At least, that's what you think.

CW / disclaimer: sort of enemies to sort of lovers (very vague, im sorry, but you'll see), slow burn, language, drinking, rpf, fem!reader

Author’s note: here's part 3! it's looking like this story is going to be surpassing my usual 5 parts... so, um... i hope everyone gets invested enough to keep reading past that!

Wordcount: 4K

part one - part two - part three - part four - part five - part six - part seven - part eight - part nine - part ten - epilogue

You couldn't stop thinking about it, and it was so dumb. But... you simply couldn't help it.

That framed picture somehow would find its way back into your thoughts every so often. It felt a little weird, but you also kept almost automatically rationalising it for yourself. You had photos with Mark all over; your social media pages were littered with photographs of the two of you throughout the years, and the comments accompanying them would probably make anyone feel the same way you did about that framed photograph in Joe's hallway.

So then, why did that framed photograph feel so weird to you?

Joe loved Poppy like you loved Mark, you knew that to be true. The only reason Poppy wasn't weird about your friendship with Mark was because of her friendship with Joe.

You all understood on a level not many other people did.

But still... you didn't know why, but, that photograph of the two of them felt... odd. Kind of raised your hackles a little. So, you asked Mark if he'd seen it when he was over at yours for snack night: a night of lots of snacks and dips as a substitute for dinner.

"So, I've got a question... remember when I went over to visit Joe two weeks ago?"

Mark snuck a baby carrot into his mouth that scooped up a dollop of hummus twice its size, and then immediately wanted to say something.

"Hmm," Mark hummed urgently, his face in a deep frown as he chewed.

It took ages for him to get it down, but you waited because going straight in to call Mark's fiance's friend weird might not have been the best way to go about this.

"Yea, what the fuck happened?" Mark asked, eyes big, but already aimed at another snack to grab from another bowl.

"What do you mean? Nothing happened,"

Mark looked at you all sarcastically as he chewed, as if to say, yea, all right, sure.

"What? We talked about your wedding, set dates for events, you know, figured some things out," you waved a hand around to convey the casuality, "But–"

You were about to ask Mark if he'd seen that framed photo of Joe and Poppy that he'd cropped the two of you out of, but Mark interjected before you could bring it up.

"No... something happened." Mark said matter-of-factly and then he paused and looked at you, ready to listen to what you had to say for yourself. But, you kept quiet too, because what the fuck was he on about? So, Mark continued, "Joe didn't speak to Poppy for like... five days? Four or five days after that, which is," Mark leant back and tilted his head back to shout his next words towards the ceiling, "a huuuuge deal!"

"Oh, well, that must've been unrelated to our meeting... we just talked about your wedding, he said I was nice, and–"

"Ah!"

Mark pointed a finger at you that he held right next to his face, one eye closed as he looked at you.

"That's it. He said you were nice,"

"I am nice," you argued.

"Yea, we tell Joe all the time... but he said you were nice?"

Opting to ignore the fact that you'd now heard from several sources that people were talking about you behind your back, you explained how you'd nearly walked out after Joe thought he was being smart that night. How you had said that you were a nice person, implying that Joe could just have been friendly and polite, and it would've been normal. And then you explained how, at the end of the night, Joe had struggled through telling you that he agreed and thought you were nice too. You mocked Joe to paint a vivid picture for Mark and exaggeratedly stuttered your way through the words Joe'd said.

Mark just ate and listened to you, and by the end shook his head a little at your impression, a dangerous smile playing his face.

"But have you seen that framed photograph he has in his hallway? Right by the front door?"

You finally got to the point you were trying to make.

"Of Pop?"

"The one we're cropped out of," you were hoping for Mark to be a little outraged, but he remained totally calm.

"Yea, Poppy has the same one, we've got it framed upstairs, on the landing," Mark said as he licked spilled mascarpone from his finger. "Smaller version, though,"

"We're cropped out of that,"

"Yea,"

"Mark... we're cropped out of that," you needed more of a reaction from him.

"Yes."

But you didn't get it. Mark didn't seem bothered at all. Like you'd said, Mark was made of trust and had just gone and proven it once more.

"He went and had a photo printed that he then had to cut two people out of... don't you think that's weird?"

"Why would it be weird?"

"I mean, I don't know... there are so many other pictures of the two of them, why did he choose a pic that he had to cut us out of,"

Mark shrugged, said, "It's a nice photo of them," and that was that. It was a nice photo of them. It just... it bothered you. You were unable to articulate why it did, exactly.

A phone buzzed on the table, and both of you looked to see if yours was the one that was ringing. It turned out to be Mark's.

Joe was calling.

"Speaking of," Mark said, answering and bringing the phone to his ear, "Joe!"

Mark listened, then rolled his eyes at you even though you had no idea what Joe was telling him.

"How drunk?"

You couldn't help but let a huffed laugh escape you. Poppy and Joe had gone to the pub, you knew. Context clues filled you in on the situation.

"Fucking hell," Mark said and kind of slumped into your sofa more as he listened to whatever Joe was telling him. "I mean, I'd give you advice, but you've been in this situation more than I have,"

Mark was going to have to leave, wasn't he?

He suddenly laughed loudly at something Joe said, head tipped back, mouth wide open, before muttering, "Shared responsibility," softly, indicating he was repeating Joe's words back to him.

"Yea, no. All right, that's fine... see you in a bit. Keep a close eye on her, though, will you?"

Mark said it with love so evident in his voice, it made you scrunch up your eyebrows. If someone else had been there, you'd have made eye-contact with them and would've probably audibly awed.

Mark laughed again at something Joe said, then shook his head as he looked at you, like you knew what the fuck was going on.

When Mark hung up, he turned to you and without any warning said, "Let's go, we're going to the pub."

When you walked in about twenty minutes later, the place was absolutely packed.

"Go grab four beers, I'll find them," Mark said, and you asked, "Four beers? Not three beers and, I don't know, a sprite for Pop?"

"Four beers," Mark said again, holding four fingers up for emphasis before he pushed himself in between a few people and disappeared into the crowd. Off to find Poppy and Joe.

You turned towards the bar and sighed at the fact that Joe and Poppy hadn't just gone to a normal pub, but somehow, one that seemed to exclusively house an after-work-drinks sort of crowd. Most people were dressed smartly, men in suits with top buttons undone and women in pencil skirts and high heels that crossed their legs at the ankles as they held drinks against forearms that were folded over their stomachs. You were in jeans and converse and definitely felt out of place, but the atmosphere was nice. You almost couldn't hear the music over the loud chatter and the belly laughs.

Just when you thought, okay so how am I going to get these four drinks over to my friends when I don't know where they are, all three of them popped up right beside you.

And Poppy was wasted.

"Babe," she slurred as she slung both her arms around your neck the minute she laid eyes on you; eyes that were barely open and kind of crossed over, mind you.

For someone semi-posh, Poppy got sloppy alarmingly quick when alcohol entered her system. She was like you in that way.

"I love you, you know that?" Poppy sprayed into your ear loudly, voice control out of the window, and it made you wince at Mark over her shoulder.

"I'm taking her home," Mark said and that's when you noticed that Joe was trying to get one of Poppy's arms into her coat. She was still attached to you, however, so it really wasn't working out for him.

"I really do," Poppy didn't pay Joe any mind and instead evaded his hands and grabbed you by the face as she pulled back from her hug. For a second you were scared she was going to plant a fat drunk kiss right onto your face.

"Not like Mark does obviously, but I do love you, you're amazing,"

You frowned through a smile, not sure where this was coming from. Had Joe and Poppy talked about the two of you like you and Mark had talked about the two of them? That didn't sound completely out of this world. Kind of made sense, actually.

"Okay, Poppy," your frown turned into scrunched up eyebrows, but your smile remained, unwavering.

"No, listen to me," Poppy got all serious, her hands still clasping your face. She tried to make stern eye-contact, but her eyes were dancing.

"Let's go Pop," Mark interrupted, but it was like he wasn't even there.

"You're so important,"

She was so, so drunk. You could smell the liquor on her breath.

"Thanks,"

"And nice,"

You shot eyes over to Joe who quickly looked down, folding Poppy's coat over his arm, giving up on trying to get Poppy to put it on. He passed it to Mark who leant in to say something closer to his ear that you didn't catch, but Joe laughed, mouthed, "Tequila," and then held up 6 fingers. Mark groaned.

"Poppy," you moved your hands to covers hers and softly pried them off of you. "Thank you. I love you too. But, look who's waiting," you pointed a small finger over her shoulder at Mark, and Poppy seemed very annoyed which only made you laugh.

"Let's go, babe," Mark took hold of Poppy's shoulders and you saw him work to hold her up as much as he was working to guide her towards the exit. Her feet were everywhere and nowhere, just like her the aim of her eyes.

"Good luck," Joe grinned at Mark who looked back over his shoulder.

The two of you made eye-contact, and within 2 seconds of just looking at each other, you'd said goodbye and promised to call each other tomorrow, all unspoken.

"Don't let those beers to go waste," Mark nodded towards the bar where the four beers you'd just paid for still stood, waiting to be drunk.

Oh.

Immediate panic washed over you.

Mark and Poppy were leaving, which meant now you and Joe had four beers to share and... you and Joe had four beers to share.

Mark could've been smug about it. Could've made a face at you to tease, but he hadn't. Had just quickly said to drink the drinks and then turned his full attention to his fiancé who was bumping and leaning into people left, right, and center.

"You got it," Joe wasn't going to let himself be told twice and slid two glasses slightly more towards you before grabbing the other two, one drink in each hand, double fisting. It looked like Joe had also had a few drinks already, which, of course he had. Poppy hadn't been doing tequila shots on her own, you assumed.

Suddenly, your evening with Mark of bitching about Joe from the comfortability of your own sofa in your own flat had turned into an evening in a posh pub with the actual dude himself. Alone. Just the two of you in a sea of suits, button-ups and pencil skirts. The prospect of it was awful.

Who would mind two wasted beers? No one really. Certainly not you, at least. Joe could have all four if he wanted. You were about to come with a dumb excuse, a polite one, to get out of there, but before you could, Joe cleared his throat.

"So," Joe said, and you couldn't believe what you were seeing. Joe was sort of turned to you, full body language engaged and ready for a chat.

A chat.

With you.

Like normal people.

Like friends.

"Who's going to be your plus one?" Joe asked and immediately busied his mouth as he took a slow sip of beer, peering at you over the glass.

You frowned a little at his question, and then more at the way he looked. All suited up, top buttons of his shirt undone, loafers – he looked like everyone else there, fit right in amongst the office crowd even though you knew very well Joe didn't have an office job. Joe didn't know how to do water-cooler-talk, didn't know how office gossip worked. Why these after-work drinks at the pub were such an important part of working in an office. You did, or had done, but still, Joe fit in with everyone else and it was very clear that you didn't.

It made you feel inferior but also a little rebellious at the same time.

You reached for a drink for yourself, deciding that you actually would mind wasting two beers that you'd paid for and you copied Joe, taking an even slower sip than he did, buying yourself time. If this was going to happen, if you were going to have drinks and be out with Joe, you weren't going to be the first one to back out. You had said you were going to at least try to be friendly, hadn't you? And it seemed like Joe was trying, so now you had to too.

"For the wedding," Joe clarified, like you didn't understand what he originally meant.

You took long to answer, smacked your lips and looked at your glass as you lowered it, saying, "I don't think we get plus ones, Joe,"

It was Joe's turn to frown.

"Of course we do,"

"Don't think so,"

You had the wedding invitation stuck under a magnet on your fridge. Saw it every day. Nowhere did it mention a plus one for you. You assumed later because you'd been asked to be Mark's best man. You'd have actual jobs to do. Bringing a date just to leave him stranded was weird, and so it made sense to you.

"Why wouldn't we?"

Joe hadn't had the same train of thought, it turned out.

"Does your wedding invitation have a plus one on? Because mine doesn't,"

Joe thought back, eyes darting around but not really looking at anything. "I don't... I don't remember word for word exactly what the invitation said–" Joe paused abruptly and looked at you, one corner of his mouth slightly upturned. "Well, I do, of course," He didn't, but he didn't need you to know that. "But surely..."

"I think they kind of want us to focus on the jobs we've been given," you said, feeling all smug that you got to tell Joe something he didn't know yet. One-upping Joe felt stupidly good. You were in jeans! In dirty old canvas trainers!

"Oh yea," Joe quipped, and you didn't like how casual that suddenly sounded.

"Like not forgetting the rings,"

And there it was. In a reflex, you lifted your middle finger up at him and immediately realised that Joe could absolutely take full offense. You weren't people who flipped each other off for fun. You said you were to at least try to be friendly, but nothing else had really changed since your meeting over at Joe's house. You weren't suddenly people who were comfortable around each other to be mean in ways you could be mean with Mark, knowing that the bickering was never damaging but more a fun way to get actual frustrations out.

But luckily, Joe gasped a small gasp through a wide smile. No offense taken.

"I thought you said you were nice," the face Joe made almost seemed flirty.

"And you agreed," you threw right back at him. "Even told Pop about it,"

Joe didn't argue, and so you knew you were right. Joe and Poppy had talked about you and Mark.

A pause followed where you weren't sure how to continue the conversation, and the feeling of wanting to abandon the evening all together crept back in. You'd had half a beer, had said some words to each other, so you knew it'd be all right for you to now go, well, I actually have to go get going. But then, something else crossed your mind.

"Can I ask you a question?"

Joe absolutely wasn't expecting the tone switch in you, suddenly sort of serious.

"Have you thought about your speech already?"

You'd briefly mentioned it the other night, your speeches. You'd said that you would just need to make sure that the vague idea of them wouldn't be insanely different from each other. If you were just going to do a a short quick little cute speech, Joe couldn't do an insanely long one that included a whole PowerPoint presentation, or something else insane, like a song. But, you'd very quickly come to the conclusion that neither of you wanted to speak into a microphone for very long.

You wanted your speech to be heartwrenchingly beautiful though. Mark was going to fucking wail at his wedding, you'd absolutely make sure of it.

"I have," Joe said, nodded slowly, and for a second you thought, how the fuck is this guy an actor?! He was obviously lying.

"Okay..." you phrased it like a question, and a short silence followed where you both narrowed your eyes at each other, not fully trusting what wasn't said aloud. Joe was confusing you and you didn't like it.

"But we really don't get plus ones?"

You knew Poppy would have laughed at the way he said it. You didn't. You just shrugged.

"Maybe Poppy doesn't want you to bring a date, just because,"

Oof. Wrong thing to say. Insinuating all kinds of things Joe didn't appreciate, you could see it in the sudden tension in his jaw. It hit almost below the belt. You kind of meant it, though. Had that blown up framed photo of them on your mind still.

"And perhaps Mark doesn't want you to bring one for the same reason,"

You learnt the hard way that dishing it out was far easier than taking it.

That stung, like it always did when people would assume you and Mark were dating, and wouldn't believe it when you said you weren't.

It stung almost extra because you'd just thrown someone a comment you hated getting yourself, and then got it right back like you deserved. The fact that it was from someone who'd probably gotten the comment loads too made you feel even worse about it.

Served you right.

If the air between you hadn't been awkward but maybe sort of pleasant for a second, you missed it.

Slow sips from wet beer glasses were had, and you cursed yourself for not being able to just call it a night already. You were committed to win this now, even though none of this was a contest. Nothing ever was, but you were just like that. Couldn't help wanting to win at everything, especially when it came to petty shit like this. There was no way you were going to leave this pub before Joe did.

It was all awkward comments, feigned naturalness and ease, and when you finished your second beer, you hated how Joe just went and ordered another two. He kept you there and you realised he was onto you. He fucking knew you weren’t going to say no, weren’t going to be the one to back out first. You were too much like Poppy in that way, you thought, and it felt a little vulnerable. Like Joe could read you, could really see right through you, just because he knew Poppy so well.

But with alcohol in your system, you started feeling invincible. Feelings like guilt and regret took a back seat, which was dangerous.

Made you order the next round, just out of sheer spite. And you'd barely eaten - just things like cucumber and carrots with hummus and tzatziki - and started to really feel the effects of it.

Made you smile at a stranger like you shared an inside joke when he bumped into Joe and made him spill some of his drink.

Made you ask stupid questions, like why Joe had a cropped photo of him and Poppy framed in his hallway.

"I don't know if you've fully understood the situation, but I can explain it in simpler words, if you'd like?"

Patronising. Joe spoke to you like you were an idiot.

"I am friends with Poppy, and have been friends with her for a looong time. We're family, and sometimes it's nice to have photographs of family up on your walls. Some people think so, at least,"

So very patronising, it was honestly insulting. He was also missing the point. Didn't understand what you meant. He probably wouldn't, even if you explained it, you thought, so you left it alone.

"It's okay if you don't get it," Joe looked down his glass before adding, "if you don't have that same sort of bond with Mark, I don't expect you to understand," and taking a sip.

Too far.

You were getting too intoxicated to just... take shit like this.

"Oh you wouldn't fucking know what friendship was if it stared you right in the face," you challenged.

For a second tonight had been about proving to each other that your friendship with you best friends didn't cross any inappropriate boundaries. Now, however, it was suddenly all about proving to Joe that your friendship with Mark outweighed his friendship with Poppy.

Joe had no fucking idea how bonded you and Mark were.

How you'd gone through absolutely shit in your teens, and how Mark had managed to haul you through, pulling you out at the other end with a lot less scars than you'd imagined beforehand.

How you'd spent years not thinking you'd live past your teens, battered and bruised from trusting people you were told time and time again you could trust. Had to trust. But should've never trusted. How Mark was the one who'd held out a friendly hand and had proven to you time and time again that men sometimes didn't want all the things you weren't ready to give. Weren't willing to hand over.

How Mark had fixed parts of you which you'd redeemed unfixable until he'd gotten all up in there.

How Mark was solely responsible for your strong belief in the power of kindness. The power of true friendship. The platonic soulmates type of shit.

Joe had no fucking idea. And so you told him again, "You wouldn't even fucking recognise it,"

Joe was about to fight you on it, but he felt something had shifted. Saw something in your expression, in your eyes, that made him swallow his words whole.

Joe saw something that made him believe you on your word. Maybe his friendship with Poppy was a small tiny thing in comparison.

"I'm sorry," Joe's features softened immediately upon the sight of you, and it was all kinds of wrong.

Somehow everything felt unfair all of the sudden.

You needed to leave.

Needed to be polite and thank Joe for the lovely evening all sarcastically and leave without a good excuse to do so. Just, get out.

Away from Joe who didn't understand. Who made fun. Who judged. And who was he to fucking talk?

When you hurridly turned, intending to run, Joe gently reached and touched your upper arm. Strong fingers, but somehow a soft touch.

"I need to leave," you said, and without saying anything else, Joe let you go and let you walk out.

No questions asked.

No goodbye from either of you.

—

The Taglisted:

@ghostinthebackofyourhead @dirtyeddietini @jasminearondottir @josephquinned @cancankiki @sidthedollface2 @dylanmunson @munsonsgirl71 @thefemininemystiquee @alana4610 @emmamooney @thatonefan-girl @paola-carter @figmentofquinn @haylaansmi @thewondernanazombie @munsonmunster @kellysimagines @mybffjoe @chaoticgood-munson @sherrylyn628 @bdpst-massacre @05secondsofsexgods @lovelyblueness @adoreyouusugar @nadixq @prozacandnicotine @munsonswhore86 @alwayslindie @breddiemunson @eddie-joe-munson @ali-in-w0nderland @pepperstories @phyllosilicate-s @thebellenouvelle @luvrsbian @joesquinns @choke-me-joey @alizztor @jnnyrd @did-it-work @capricornrisingsstuff @quinnsbower @frogers @kennedy-brooke @daleyeahson @eddielives1986 @harringtonfan4 @sadbitchfangirl

(taglist currently full, sorry)

#Joe Quinn #Joseph Quinn #Joe Quinn x You #Joseph Quinn x You #Joe Quinn x Reader #Joseph Quinn x Reader #Joe Quinn Fanfic #Joe Quinn fanfiction #Joseph Quinn Fanfic #Joseph Quinn Fanfiction #rpf #icallhimjoey #To Have And To Scold #part 3

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thewintersoldierdisaster · 2 years

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a/n: this one was fuuuun. this is the kind of extra wag i would be so i loved coming up with the little ideas lol. and yes, the photo in the cover is one i took at josh bailey’s 1000th game ceremony 😌 also, happy birthday to the big boy! legit can’t believe i got this done in time, but that’s what happens when it’s a cold and miserable rainy saturday in new york lol

word count: 8.1k 😅

tw: two smut scenes

summary: it’s andrei’s 1000th game and ceremony!

You let your fingertips trace lightly over the back of Andrei’s neck. His face is mashed into the pillow, cheek pressed flat, and a low hum is drawn from his throat. It’s still early, before either of your alarms are set to go off, but you couldn’t sleep very well. With cranky kids and the anticipation of today, you managed a few hours of tossing and turning before finally giving up.

“Solnyshka?” Andrei mumbles your nickname and your fingers still. You hadn’t really wanted to wake him up.

“Go back to sleep,” you whisper, pulling your hand back to your body.

He hums again and rolls onto his side, blinking warm brown eyes at you as he wakes up a little more. “Wasn’t asleep,” he says, a yawn cutting through his words and proving his lie.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t want to wake you,” you apologize, still propped up on your elbow.

Andrei squints at the alarm clock over your shoulder - the clock blinks 4:30 in red numbers - and shrugs with the shoulder not pressed into the mattress. “I think the crack of dawn is the only time we get to be alone anymore,” he laughs, reaching for you and pulling you into his arms.

You snuggle against his broad chest, brushing your nose against his collarbone. After a few moments of silence, you murmur, “big day today.”

“Mhm,” Andrei hums against your hair.

“A thousand games,” you continue, completely awed by your husband. “That’s, Drei, that’s so amazing.”

“It doesn’t feel real,” he admits, chuckling a bit. “It feels like another game day.”

At the end of the day, it really is just another game, but it’s also a cumulation of all the hard work Andrei’s put in over the last fifteen years. Not many players make it to a thousand games and you’re indescribably proud of Andrei for reaching the milestone.

You tangle your legs with his. “It’s a big day though. Even if the ceremony isn’t until this weekend.”

Even though his thousandth game is a Monday night home game, it was worked out that the ceremony would be on Saturday, since that game is an afternoon one - making it so much easier to bring the girls to the game. Only Evie, at six, would be able to handle the 7:30 ceremony start time and even she could be questionable, depending on the mood she comes home from school in. No, it’s so much easier to corral three girls in the middle of the afternoon.

“I’m glad you and Mama and Papa are coming tonight though,” he says, twisting your hair in his fingers. Your parents are coming over to watch the girls, that way you can join Andrei’s parents at the game. It works out for everyone - the girls get time with their grandparents and you get a child-free night to drink a cocktail and enjoy watching your husband play. Elena and Igor have been in town for a week and are staying for another two, that way they can be there for the ceremony and to spend time with the girls too.

“I don’t know who’s going to cry more tonight, me or your mom,” you tease, knowing Elena will probably take top prize. She’s been watching Andrei live his childhood dream for longer than you have.

Andrei laughs lowly and lets his hands roam over your back. You can tell he’s getting introspective, thinking about his career to this point, and you kiss his sternum. Your hand slides up under the hem of his shirt - the days of sleeping naked are long over for you both, with the oldest two girls constantly getting out of their beds to crash in yours. His skin is warm under your touch and Andrei sighs, his stomach contracting as your fingers dance over the ridged muscles.

“I’m so proud of you,” you murmur, throwing your leg over his hip and rolling Andrei onto his back. His erection is hot and hard against your thigh and you grin down at him. “One thousand games,” you says, wiggling your eyebrows, “your stamina is impressive, Mister Svechnikov.”

His grin is all teeth and dimples. “I’ll show you stamina,” he says, gripping your hips hard enough to leave marks. He pulls you forward so you rub over his cock and you gasp at the contact, even though the layers of his boxer-briefs and your panties. You lean down, one hand braced next to his head, and kiss him deeply, rolling your hips over his.

Andrei bites your lower lip gently, sucking it into his mouth. One of his hands slides under your oversized shirt, his fingers playing at the edges of your panties, brushing sensitive skin. “Drei,” you gasp his name when his fingers disappear under the damp fabric, sliding against your skin. His thumb finds your clit and he presses down, surging up to capture your moan with his mouth.

“I was supposed to take care of you,” you mutter, clenching around Andrei’s fingers. “We’re celebrating your achievement.”

He laughs. “Maybe this is how I want to celebrate, solnyshka.”

You grind down on him and he groans, involuntarily bucking his hips up into yours.

“Mama?” A little voice breaks through the fuzz in your brain and you yelp, rolling off of Andrei with a painful tweak of your hip. His hand is still halfway caught in your panties and he mutters a string of Russian curses.

You lift your head and there’s Alina, backlit by the light from the hallway, clutching her stuffed puppy by the ears. Her eyes are wide in her face and she looks near tears.

“Alya, what happened?” You ask, trying to keep your tone soothing even as your heart is pounding out of your chest.

Your four-year-old rubs at her eyes and her lower lip wobbles, “I had a bad dream.”

Andrei looks over at you, holding his breath a little. He closes his eyes and it looks like he’s trying to do extremely complex math in his head. You sigh. “Baby, it was just a dream and it’s early, why don’t you go back to bed?”

“Can I sleep with you and Daddy?” She asks, eyes welling with tears. She chews on one of the dog’s ears and you melt.

“Come on up, Alya,” Andrei sighs and you really wish you hadn’t gotten as far as you did before Alina interrupted. She comes running for the bed and flings her little body at the mattress, needing Andrei’s help to climb on completely. She clambers over his body and tucks herself against your side.

You cuddle her close and she twists her little fingers in your shirt. Over her head, you catch Andrei’s eye and mouth, “to be continued.”

He grins and whispers, “I’m holding you to that.”

Alina falls back asleep quickly, ending up horizontal with her feet in Andrei’s side and her head on your chest. You stroke her hair off her face and close your own eyes. The next time you wake up, it’s to the buzzing of your 6 a.m. alarm. Andrei’s getting up too, sitting up and stretching his arms over his head.

“Glad we went for the California King,” you comment, tucking the sheet around Alina’s starfished form. Andrei settles her stuffed dog within arm’s reach.

“For such a little thing, she takes up so much room,” he laughs, greeting you with a kiss. “Good morning.”

“For the second time,” you laugh. “You ready for the day?”

“It’s just a game, solnyshka,” he repeats his earlier refrain, but you can see the extra spark in his eyes. He tangles his hand in your hair and pulls your head back gently to kiss you.

You blink a little when he pulls back, resting your hands on his hips. “You’re allowed to be excited, Drei. You’re allowed to think it’s a big deal,” you say. “To get here, after the pandemic seasons, after your ACL, this is such an achievement.”

He sighs. “I know,” his forehead furrows. “I think it’s just…so much of hockey is behind me now. Not that much left in front of me.”

Oh.

This is his hockey mid-life crisis.

“Drei, baby, you still have so much time left to play,” you smooth your hands through his hair. “I bet you have another seven, eight years of playing.”

He drops his forehead to yours. “Thank you, solnyshka. I’ll get excited, I just need to start the day.”

“Well, you can go handle Evie wake-up then,” you smile. “She’ll put you in a good mood.”

Andrei beams and bounces off out of the room. He and Evie have the exact same personality and you know that by the time you get ready and get Kira up, father and daughter will have already had each other in spasms of laughter and Andrei will be less in his head. You leave Alina sleeping and change quickly into jeans and a sweater. You’ve found that you get so much more done when you put on real clothes.

“Good morning, my little chickadee,” you coo, spotting Kira standing up in her crib.

The eighteen-month-old gives you a big toothy smile and shouts, “mama!” while making grabby-hands at you. Her hair, blonde fuzz at birth and turning darker by the day, is sticking out all over the place. You lift her onto your hip, pressing kisses all over her face, making her laugh.

“You woke up on the right side of the crib today, huh?” You laugh, making quick work of her diaper and dressing her in a little lounge set. You smooth down her hair and use a little bow to keep it in place.

“See Dada!” She grins and you shake your head. Of course.

You pull a face at your youngest. “You want to see Dada? Everyone wants to see Dada today.”

Evie’s bedroom door is open and you poke your head inside, but her bed is empty. There’s noise coming from the kitchen and you follow the sounds, walking in on Andrei and Evie making eggs. Andrei has Evie standing on a step stool and he’s guiding her hand while the scrambled eggs cook. Evie’s dancing on the stool, wiggling her little body along to a tune only she knows. “Hey, remember, we have to be careful when cooking, right?” Andrei reminds her, tapping her shoulder so she can focus.

“Dada!” Kira shrieks, drawing Evie and Andrei’s attention. Andrei’s smile widens and Evie jumps down from the stool to rush over and squish Kira’s cheeks in between her hands.

“Hiiii Kira,” she singsongs, brown eyes dancing when her baby sister giggles. You grin at the sight and set Kira on her feet. Evie plops down on the floor to entertain her sister and you take the opportunity to take over the egg making from Andrei.

He kisses your cheek, “I’ll be right back. Going to get ready.”

“Don’t wake the bear,” you warn, knowing Alina will be a holy terror if she doesn’t get enough sleep. Andrei salutes you, smirking, well aware of the perils of waking your middle daughter.

You finish the eggs, doling them out on plates for everyone and add toast and fruit to the girls’ plates before starting a protein shake for Andrei. “Okay, little misses, breakfast,” you announce, setting the plates on the table. Evie climbs into her seat and digs in, Kira slower behind.

With her mouth full of partially chewed food, Evie asks, “Mama, can I stay home from school and play with the sissies?”

“Chew, please,” you remind her, putting Kira in the highchair and giving her a strip of toast. “And no. You have to go to school, but remember Nana and Pop are going to be here when you get home.”

“Oh right!” She bounces in her seat, messy blonde hair flying everywhere. Where this kid gets so much energy at seven in the morning, well, you know it comes from Andrei, but you wish you could bottle it. “How come they’re gonna be here? It’s Monday.”

You scrape at the frying pan. “Remember today is a special day for Daddy, he’s played one thousand hockey games.”

Evie’s eyes go comically wide. “That’s a lotta hockey,” she says seriously.

“It is a lot of hockey,” you agree. “So I’m going to the game to cheer him on.”

You conveniently leave out the fact that Elena and Igor are coming too, because if Evie gets wind of the fact that Andrei’s parents are going, she’ll absolutely insist on coming. You love how much the girls love their grandparents, but tonight is not the night for wrangling children.

“Can we watch Daddy play on the TV?” She asks, propping her chin in her hand.

“Sure can,” you nod, putting the frying pan back in the cabinet. “But you have to go to bed when Nana and Pop say so.”

Kira drops a handful of egg on the floor and you sort of wish you had a dog to hoover it up, but three kids and a dog, when Andrei’s out of town half the time? No way in hell was that happening. Instead, you wipe up the eggs and point at Evie, “please go get dressed okay? And do not wake up your sister.”

Evie nods and shoves another strawberry in her mouth, running off upstairs while you shout after her to chew. You look at Kira, with her strawberry covered face and toothy grin, and wrinkle your nose at her, “today is a crazy day, huh, chickadee?”

“Kay-zee!” Kira chirps, mimicking you.

You get her cleaned up and by then, Andrei’s back downstairs with Evie clinging to his back and Alina wrapped like a koala around his leg. He grins at you, clearly thrilled by the chaos. “Alya has decided that she’s going to drive Evie to school today,” he informs you.

“Oh, is that right?” You raise an eyebrow down at your middle daughter. “When did you get a driver’s license?”

Alina, the cheeky little child, pipes up, “I don’t even need one ‘cause I’m fast like a runner and I can drive better than Daddy.”

Her explanation makes zero sense, but then again, half of what she says is insanity, so you just nod. “How about you have some breakfast and then you can take Evie to school?”

“Is it oatmeal?” Alina unhooks from Andrei’s leg and scampers to the table, peeking over the top.

“Yes, it’s oatmeal,” you reply, grabbing her under the armpits and swooping her up onto the chair. Alina’s on an oatmeal kick. It’s all she wants to eat and you’re tired of coming up with different way to doctor it up so she’s getting nutrients. Andrei had the genius idea of pureeing beets into it for dinner the other night and calling it Barbie oatmeal. Alone ate it up, literally and figuratively.

Andrei sucks back his protein shake, listening intently as Evie tells him all about her playground drama. She tells the story with her whole body, hands flying in the air, facial expressions exaggerated. Andrei provides the appropriate reactions too, gasping in shock when he’s supposed to. “Okay,” he cuts in apologetically, “finish the story on the road, zaychik. You’re going to be late.”

“I’m coming too!” Alina shrieks from the table, still dressed in her pajamas. Andrei laughs and gathers her up in his arms.

“Of course, we can’t go anywhere without the driver,” he kisses her forehead and ushers both girls out of the house, all three of them shouting good-bye to you.

Once the door closes behind them, the silence is deafening. You blink and lean against the counter, always a little dazed after the morning routine. Kira sighs in her highchair and pouts, “sissers?”

“Yeah,” you laugh, “your sisters are gone for now. But they’ll be back, don’t you worry.”

Andrei returns an hour later with Alina in his arms and a carry-out tray of coffees. Alina nibbles happily on a cake pop and you shoot Andrei a look.

“It was this or have her keep screaming bloody murder in the middle of Starbucks,” he mutters, setting her down on the couch. “I chose sugar.”

“Wise man,” you say, taking your coffee from the holder and sucking back a huge sip. “Oh yeah, that’s the stuff.”

Andrei works on his own coffee - an iced white chocolate mocha - even as you tease him for his sweet tooth. He’s nonplussed, used to the ribbing from the boys. Once you’re both caffeinated, you split the morning tasks, Andrei taking the kitchen and keeping a vague eye on Alina and Kira in the living room, and you heading upstairs to make bed and clean up the clothes that have been left out.

You meet back up in the kitchen with the house a little tidier than before. “Morning skate is 11:45 today,” Andrei says, reading from a text. “So I should be home around 1:30?”

“Perfect, just in time to nap with the zoo animals and eat dinner,” you lean up to kiss him quickly. “Any special requests for dinner?”

Andrei shrugs, “whatever you’re making is fine. I’m not picky.” A slow, lazy smile curls at his lips, “I do know what I want for dessert though.”

“I’ll make something special,” you decide, ignoring the heat in your cheeks and the rush of want in your stomach. You’re still thinking about the denied orgasm from this morning.

“Daddy!” Alina shouts. “Come watch Bluey with me.”

“Duty calls,” you giggle, watching Andrei head into the living room. He sits on the couch and Alina and Kira are immediately draped over his lap. Alina has her little water bottle in one hand and her leg kicked up in the air, singing along to the Bluey theme song and Kira has her thumb planted in her mouth. Your heart melts when you see Andrei gently dislodge her thumb, holding her little hand with his so she can’t try and suck her thumb again.

Eventually, he has to get up, apologizing to the girls for having to leave. They pout and cry and reach for him and you can see Andrei’s heart break at having to go to work. You distract them with crayons as best as you can and pull them into hugs and a silly dance when he leaves.

Luckily, twenty minutes after Andrei leaves, Elena and Igor are at the door. Babushka and dedushka are the perfect distraction for when the girls miss Daddy.

“Baba! Dedu!” Alina shrieks, flinging her body into Igor’s knees. He laughs and lifts her onto his hip, kissing her cheek. “Come watch Bluey with me!”

Elena smothers Kira in kisses and you thank God that they’re laughing again, not crying. “That is the little dog, yes?” She asks Alina, shooting you a little wink.

“Yes! Bluey and Bingo are puppies,” Alina informs her grandmother very seriously. “And they’re sisters like me an’ Evie an’ Kira. And like Daddy and Uncle Geno!”

“Daddy and Uncle Geno are brothers,” you correct Alina, laughing.

“No, they’re sisters like me!” She pouts stubbornly.

It’s useless to try and fight with her, so you just nod and get the girls set up with Bluey. The screen time isn’t your favorite, but needs must. Once they’re distracted, you grin widely and turn to Elena. “I am so glad you guys are here. We have like an hour and half before Drei gets back from morning skate. I have a banner ready to be hung up, balloons in the garage, a cake in the downstairs fridge, and my parents should be here within the hour with Evie.”

You have a whole little surprise party planned for when Andrei gets back from morning skate and you’re so excited to pull it all together. Andrei’s parents jump in to help, decorating the open plan of the living room and kitchen and setting Kira and Alina up with crayons and construction paper to make cards.

“How do you spell bestest daddy in the whole world?” Alina asks, printing her name in big letters under a crayon drawing of Andrei and Stormy the pig. Elena sits down in one of the child-sized chairs and suggests that she help Alina write out her message. You four-year-old concedes the crayon to her grandmother with a benevolent sigh.

The house is mostly decorated when the front door bangs open and Evie rushes inside, her princess backpack bouncing against her back. “Mama!” she shouts, breathless. “Did you know Nana and Pop took me outta school early?”

Her eyes widen as she takes in the decorations and Andrei’s parents. You wait, totally delighted by the shock on her face.

“Oh my gosh! Baba and Dedu are here too?” She yelps, bouncing on the balls of her feet. “This is the BEST DAY EVER!”

Evie discards her backpack, jacket, and sneakers in a heap and throws herself into Elena’s arms for a hug. She kisses her cheek and snuggles up before whipping her head over to look at you, “wait, Mama, does Daddy know that EVERYONE is here? Because he didn’t say a single word!”

“Daddy doesn’t know,” you grin, picking up her backpack. “It’s a surprise for his special game, so why don’t you take your sisters upstairs and put on the shirts that are on your beds? Then you can come back and make Daddy a card.”

“Oh, I’m gonna make the best card ever!” She leaps off Elena’s lap and grabs Kira under the armpits, hauling her to her feet, much to the toddler’s protests. “Come on, Kiry, Mommy said to go change.”

“No!” Kira shrieks and your mom cuts in to hoist Kira onto her hip and usher Evie and Alina from the room, saying, “let’s not get your sister upset before your dad comes home. How about we practice our surprise faces!”

You look around at the adults and sigh, “seriously, thank you all so much for your help. I don’t think I could’ve wrangled them all on my own and get this set up.”

“We’re just so excited to celebrate Andrei,” Elena claps her hands together. “This is such a big moment for him.”

“He’s going to be so surprised,” you giggle just thinking about his reaction. “Oh, I wish he’d get home now.”

It’ll be at least another twenty or thirty minutes before he’s home, so once the girls are back downstairs in their matching shirts (red, with black wording proclaiming “Daddy’s 1000th Game!” with the date underneath and Svechnikov scrawled across the backs- an Etsy purchase you were extremely thrilled with), you set them to finishing their cards and drawings. Now that everything’s calmed down a bit, you inscribe your own message on the card you had also special ordered from Etsy (a cartoon-ish drawing of Andrei from the back with the Canes’ logo and a prominent 1,000 across the top).

Andrei texts that he’s on the way and you grin, “okay, be ready! Should we hide? No that’s silly. Just, we’ll all be in the living room with the balloons. That’s perfect.”

Evie and Alina are vibrating with excitement and Kira is in your dad’s arms, very ready for her nap. You just hope she’ll hold out for the surprise.

You’re checking Find My Friends, and once you spot Andrei’s little dot pulling into the driveway, you usher everyone into place. “Okay, girls, remember when Daddy comes in, we’re all going to shout ‘congratulations’.” You nod at them and they nod back, understanding the assignment.

The excitement builds and you’re ready to burst when Andrei finally gets through the door and shouts, “solnyshka, I’m back!”

You press your finger to your lips at the girls and then call out, “I’m in the living room, Drei!”

The second Andrei is in sight, you all shout, “CONGRATULATIONS!” and he rears back a step or two, clearly surprised. The girls rush him, grabbing at his legs and he rests his hands on their heads, trying to get oriented. Your heart skips when he takes in the banner pinned to the wall - CONGRATULATIONS ON 1000 ANDREI - and the gold mylar balloons, a one, three zeros, and a capital K, floating underneath.

“I…what?” He’s speechless.

“Daddy, you played so much hockey!” Evie yelps, tugging at his jacket sleeve. “Mama said we get to celebrate you!”

“I maded a picture!” Alina shoves the construction paper in his face and Andrei laughs.

“This is…I’m overwhelmed, solnyshka,” he says, giant grin on his face. He’s hefted both girls into his arms and they wrap their little arms around his neck in hugs.

You dance over to him and lean up to kiss him softly. “Are you surprised?” You beam and he nods.

“Very!”

He kisses his mother and your mother hello and somehow ends up with Kira in his arms too. That reminds you, before she ends up conking out for a nap, you want to get a picture. You hand your phone to Elena and pose with Andrei and the girls under the banner. You give each girl a zero balloon and Andrei takes the one, leaving you with the K. “Say one thousand!”

The girls chorus as best they can, smiling for the camera.

Looking at the pictures, you can see just how much each girl looks like Andrei. The four of them have matching brown eyes, all used to varying success when trying to manipulate you into doing something. Evie looks the most like Andrei, but Alina has his nose and the mischievous twinkle in her eyes. Kira has his smile - dimple and all - which means you love that she’s such a happy kid. It used to drive you crazy, how little they looked like you, but now you just love having your mini-Andrei clones.

Kira’s nodding off in Andrei’s arms and you send him off for his pre-game nap. The two older girls follow along like ducklings and you know they’ll all climb into bed with him and snuggle until you wake them up. He kisses you on his way upstairs, murmuring, “I can’t believe you did all this.”

“We love you,” you reply simply.

After an hour or so, once you’re done making an early dinner for Andrei, you head upstairs to wake him up so he can get ready. As you thought, the girls are all nestled in bed with him, looking sweet and peaceful while they sleep. You snap a quick picture and thread your fingers through Andrei’s hair to wake him up.

“Hey Sleeping Beauty,” you whisper. “Time for you to get ready for the main event.”

He chuckles and rolls onto his side to look at you. “You’re amazing,” he whispers back. “My parents, the decorations, the matching shirts. It’s a lot.”

“More where that came from,” you wiggle your eyebrows and step over to your dresser, pulling out a small wrapped box. “A little gift,” you say, placing it on the mattress next to his hand.

Being careful not to wake the girls, Andrei shifts so he’s sitting up and carefully unwraps the gift. A pair of silver cuff links glint up at him, engraved with the Canes logo and a little 1K on one and the date on the other. Andrei smiles slowly as he takes them in and swallows back emotion. “Thank you, solnyshka,” he murmurs, cupping your face in one hand. “I love them.” He brings your face to his and kisses you deeply.

“Wear them tonight for luck,” you murmur against his lips, your forehead resting against his.

PNC is louder than you’ve ever heard it when you get there later. There’s a buzz in their air and you decide to take a lap of the concourse while Elena and Igor go to the seats. There’s more Svechnikov jerseys being worn than you’ve ever seen and everyone seems to be talking about Andrei’s milestone. You’re sure you look crazy, wandering around with a smile on your face, but you’re so proud of him and everything he’s accomplished. A few fans recognize you from social media and stop to say hi and ask you to congratulate Andrei for them.

That’s one of the things you’ve loved over the years being with Andrei and living in Raleigh - the fans are incredible and most of them are so polite and friendly. It feels like you’re celebrating Andrei with thousands of your friends.

Just before warmups start, you shoot Andrei your usual pre-game text and include a selfie, blowing him a kiss.

He sends back a selfie where he’s doing a thumbs-up in full gear, Pyotr and Sebastian photobombing in the background. The picture makes you laugh and you join Elena and Igor at your seats.

The three of you are decked out in Canes gear - matching Svechnikov jerseys included. Elena’s is bedazzled and she keeps catching the light from the overheads. “One thousand games,” she says, already looking a little teary. “From when he was a little boy and the stick was nearly bigger than he was, to all this.” She waves her hand in a vague gesture encompassing the inside of the arena.

Igor rubs her shoulder, smiling. “It’s been a ride, hasn’t it?”

You’re getting emotional now too and wipe carefully at your eyes when the guys start onto the ice for warmups. You spot Andrei immediately, even though, as a tribute, all the guys are wearing Svechnikov 37 jerseys. You laugh, not realizing that the team was going to do that. You’re sure Andrei is embarrassed as hell, but you take plenty of pictures, warmth settling in your stomach. Andrei tosses pucks over the glass to some of the kids gathered and waves to the crowd. His smile is evident even from a distance.

Andrei is in the starting line and the crowd erupts when he’s announced. You and Elena simultaneously reach for each other’s hands, screaming and cheering his name. The puck drops and Andrei’s officially off, playing in his one thousandth NHL game.

The game itself is nothing out of the ordinary - a Canes win, with Andrei picking up points for a goal and an assist. He’s named the first star of the game and you’re pretty sure you scream yourself hoarse cheering for him.

By the time all the fun is done, Elena and Igor head back to their hotel and you head home to relieve your parents and wait for Andrei. The girls are long passed out, Evie and Alina snuggled together in the guest bed. You’re curious as to how that happened, but if they stay asleep, you don’t really care.

“They were so cute,” your mom says, showing you a video of the two oldest girls cheering in front of the TV. “Evie kept saying how her dad’s the best hockey player of all time.”

You snort a laugh, “I think Wayne Gretzky might have something to say about that, but yeah. we’re pretty fond of number thirty seven in this house.”

“Neither one made it past the half-way point of the first,” your dad adds. “I think it may have been the sugar crash.”

“Yeah, I noticed that there’s very little cake left,” you reply, shooting both your parents a side-eye. “Thanks for that.”

They shrug, non-repentant grandparents spoiling the grandkids, and you thank them for babysitting, kissing them good-bye. Andrei should be home in a little bit, so you tidy up and change into something else - the red and black lingerie set purchased specifically for this occasion - and settle on the couch to scroll social media until he comes home.

You hear the car pull into the driveway and bounce up, kneeling on the couch and looking over the back of it towards the door. A few minutes later, Andrei comes inside quietly, not wanting to wake the girls. You hop off the couch and rush to him, jumping into his arms and wrapping your legs around his waist. He catches you easily and huffs in surprise.

“I am so proud of you,” you whisper in between short kisses. Your hands cradle his face and your thumbs stroke his cheekbones. “Did you hear how crazy the arena was? That’s all for you.”

“It was exciting,” he admits, grinning. “But, uh, I like this better.” His hand palms your ass, fingers catching on the lace.

“Good,” you murmur, kissing his jaw. “I was hoping you would.”

“Can I take it off of you now?” He asks, very politely, even though his eyes are more pupil than iris and his fingers are slipping under the hem of the lace.

You nod, giggling when he practically runs up the stairs to your room. He sets you on the bed gently and leans one knee on the edge of the mattress, grabbing hold of your ankles and pulling you towards him. His hands are warm and rough over your skin and it would be embarrassing how wet you are for him if you hadn’t been married to him for so many years and he wasn’t so handsome.

“This was the best day, solnyshka,” he murmurs, lifting one leg so he can kiss the inside of your ankle. You shiver at the caress of his hot breath on your skin.

“I’m glad,” you sigh, cutting off into a little whine when Andrei lets go of your leg to take off his suit jacket and toss it to the floor. The cuff links glint in the dim lighting and it’s practically Pavlovian how you react to the clinking of Andrei undoing his belt buckle.

He looms over you, belt undone and fly of his pants open. You reach up and grab at his tie, yanking his face down to yours so you can kiss him, your other hand tangling in his hair. Andrei traces his tongue over your lower lip, smoothing his hand over your hip and trailing his fingers to the front of your panties, pressing against damp fabric hard enough to have your hips bucking involuntarily.

You gasp, breaking the kiss. “I’m hoping the girls stay asleep,” you laugh, breathless, “but I don’t know if we’ll be able to make tonight a long one.”

“That’s fine,” Andrei laughs, carefully undoing the cuff links and his watch and setting them on his night table. He rolls up the sleeves of his button down and you stare at the prominent veins on his forearms. “I’ve been waiting to get my dick into you all day, ever since this morning. I can’t wait much longer.”

Your legs fall open and Andrei grins. “I don’t think I can wait too much longer either,” you confess, arching your back when Andrei pulls you closer and hooks your ankles at his shoulders. He’s kneeling a bit and his mouth is on you immediately, tongue flattening over you through lace. “Ohhh fuck, Drei!” you yelp, instinctively clenching your thighs together.

He chuckles and keeps your legs spread, holding your ass with one hand and pushing aside the lace with the other. “Solnyshka, you promised me dessert,” he brushes his nose against the juncture of your thighs. “I’m starving.”

“I…oh, god, right there,” your hands fist the sheets, heels scrabbling against Andrei’s shoulders while he gets to work. He licks and sucks, heat and desire pooling low in your stomach. His nose bumps against your clit and you have to clap a hand over your mouth to muffle your scream.

“Too bad we’re not alone,” he murmurs, scrapping. his teeth and stubble over your heated flesh. “I want to hear you scream my name.”

“Next time -“ you break off into a muffle moan when he clamps his lips around your clit and sucks, once, hard, your vision briefly going white when you come. “Fuck,” you mumble, boneless.

Andrei’s head pops up from in between your legs, the lower half of his face wet and shining. He’s got that mischievous twinkle in his eyes and he kisses the inside of your knee. “That’s one,” he says.

“One?” you murmur, registering that he’s releasing your legs and discarding his tie and button down.

“Mhm,” he hums, grasping himself through the fabric of his boxer-briefs and stroking a few times. “If the rest of the day was about celebrating me, tonight is about celebrating you. I couldn’t have made it a thousand games without you by my side for over six hundred of them.”

His face is soft, boyish, when he says it, love for you written all over his features.

You giggle a little, “has it really been that many games?”

Andrei lies down on the mattress next to you and your hand comes up to trace the angles of his collarbone. He shivers a little under your light touch. “Doesn’t feel like it, right?” He asks, pulling you closer and kissing you sweetly.

“Time really flew,” you sigh, swinging a leg over Andrei’s hip and pushing at the waistband of his suit pants and underwear. “One thousand games, ten years, and three kids,” you smile down at him, wrapping your hands around his cock and pulling it out so it curves up towards his stomach. “How did we get so lucky?”

“Because you’re the rock,” he says, tangling his fingers in the lace at your waist. He tugs, not gently, and it rips, baring you to him.

“Hey!” You laugh, faux-indignant, “I liked those.”

“I’ll buy you more,” he promises, lifting you by the hips and guiding you so you’re hovering over him. You brace your hands on his chest and nod and he settles you down. You sink onto him until he’s fully inside of you and it’s the best feeling. You roll your hips slightly and Andrei groans. “Right there, solnyshka.”

Neither one of you talks while you settle into a rhythm, just enjoying the feeling of each other’s bodies. Andrei brushes his fingers against your clit, beads of sweat gathering at your hairline while your thighs tremble from riding him. He rolls you onto your back and kisses your neck, thrusting into you. With the change in position, you wrap your legs around his waist, digging your heels into the hard muscle of his ass. The chain around his neck sways as he thrusts, bumping against your chin.

Your nails dig into his back, scratching his skin and Andrei grunts, sucking a mark behind your ear. “Moya koroleva,” he mumbles. “Love of my life, come for me. I want to see you fall apart.”

Starbursts blink in your vision and Andrei slips one hand between your bodies, his fingers slipping over the swollen bud of your clit. You cry out and Andrei muffles the sound with a kiss, pumping into you twice more before you’re pushed over the edge and coming around him. He keeps kissing you until he’s done filling you and then you’re both limp and splayed out on the bed. Andrei’s body is half on top of yours, his weight crushing in a good way. He kicks his legs lazily, discarding his suit pants and boxer-briefs to the floor. You huff a laugh into his neck, “I can’t believe you just fucked me with your pants on like we’re a pair of horny teenagers.”

“You said we might be interrupted,” he protests, kissing your shoulder. His teeth snag on the strap of your lingerie and he pouts. “I wanted to rip this off with my teeth.”

“Another night,” you push at his shoulder so he’ll roll off of you. You need to go pee before you get back in bed. After you clean yourself up and make your way back to bed, you find Andrei back in his boxer-briefs and under the covers. He smiles sleepily at you, that post-orgasm haze in his eyes, and opens his arms.

You climb in and tuck yourself against his side, playing with the chain around his neck. “Just think, we get to do this all over again on Saturday, you know, celebrate you,” you say around a yawn.

“Do you have another one of these little sets waiting?” Andrei teases, running a finger over the lace cup.

“You’ll just have to wait and see.” You tangle your legs with his and before you know it, you’re both asleep.

The week speeds by in a blur of travel for Andrei and child-rearing for you, until all of a sudden it’s Saturday morning and the house is happy chaos. All four grandparents arrived bright and early, bringing coffee and breakfast, so you don’t have to cook and make a mess. There’s no morning skate since it’s a noon start time, but Andrei still has to get to the arena early and he leaves while the girls are still asleep, kissing you goodbye and wishing you luck.

“Thanks a lot,” you deadpan.

“I’ll see you soon,” he winks.

The grandparents are lifesavers and help get the girls dressed - all in matching Svechnikov jerseys, little black tutus, and red cowboy boots. Evie had picked the outfits and it’s honestly the cutest thing you’ve ever seen in your life.

“Mama, do I get to make a speech?” Evie asks while you fix her hair in two little space buns on the top of her head.

You smother a laugh and reply, “no, baby. No speeches. But we get to walk out on the ice and Daddy’s going to get some presents from the team and there will be a little video.”

“Oh,” she squints at her reflection in the mirror thoughtfully. “Am I in the video?”

“No again, little bug. It’s a video about Daddy’s time playing hockey and his teammates will talk about him. Is that okay with you?” You tie off the second space bun.

Evie nods, “yeah, since Daddy plays so much hockey I think it’s okay that the video is only about him.”

“That’s very generous of you,” you pat her on the shoulder. “Now please go sit with Pop and Dedushka until it’s time to leave.”

She scampers off, tutu swishing, and you check in with the moms - yours has Kira and Andrei’s has Alina. Everything is handled there, so you take the time to get yourself ready, curling your hair and doing your makeup before getting dressed. You’re all ready to go by 10:30, which feels like a miracle. The drive to the arena is smooth and the girls are beyond excited when they get to go through the back entrance and wait outside the locker room.

Andrei, dressed in full gear, steps out and they rush him, shouting “Daddy!” He gathers them into his arms and kisses their cheeks. “You two look like supermodels,” he grins. “Did you bring me a tutu too?”

“No, Daddy!” Alina giggles. “That’s silly!”

“You’re right,” he agrees. “Are you ready to get on the ice?”

Evie nods and wriggles out of his arms to bounce in her boots. “Can we say hi to everyone?” She tries to look around Andrei into the locker room, but you snag her hand to hold her back.

“They have to get ready for the game and we have to get into our spots, okay?” You explain. “Plus we have to go get babushka and dedushka, they’re coming onto the ice with us.”

“Oh!” Evie’s eyes go wide. “Can they skate too?”

Andrei laughs a little. “There’s going to be a carpet, no one is skating, zaychik.”

“That stinks,” Evie mutters. “I’m really good at skating, I could’ve showed everybody.”

She pouts the entire way back up to the suite, until a pretzel is handed to her by your dad and she’s all smiles again. You leave your purse and everyone’s jackets with your parents and settle in to watch a little bit of warmups before you’re ushered back down to wait in the zamboni tunnel while warmups end and the carpet gets laid out.

You hold Kira on your hip and Andrei’s parents gently usher the older girls out to meet Andrei on the ice. He grins and kisses you on the cheek and then kisses Elena’s cheek. She’s already crying and the tribute hasn’t even started.

“Hi,” he whispers to you, looking like the fresh-faced 22-year-old man you fell in love with.

“Hi,” you whisper back. “Ready?”

The lights in the arena dim and you all look up at the Jumbotron as the tribute video starts to play. The girls bounce around, pointing and gasping when video of Andrei doing The Michigan plays. Rod’s on screen, talking about Andrei’s career. Pyotr speaks, grinning when he recounts the early years that Andrei served as his translator.

Elena and Igor get video spots, talking about Andrei’s love of the game even as a child. When Geno’s on screen, Andrei smiles widely and shakes his head, brushing his cheek against the shoulder of his jersey. His eyes look misty in the dim lighting.

Jordan, retired for a few years now, speaks last, “from one Canes Captain to another, we’re so proud of you, Svechy. Here’s to another thousand games.”

You sniffle a little, eyes welling up with emotion. The girls are clinging to Andrei’s hands, dancing in place and Kira is taking in all of the sights. Once the lights go back on, Brady, Sebastian, and Jarvy skate over with bouquets of flowers for you, Elena, and the girls.

“Congratulations,” Brady grins at you, handing over your flowers and Kira’s. “Svechy’s lucky to have you.”

“You’re going to make me cry,” you say with a smile, “again!”

Andrei’s gifted a silver stick - which the girls immediately start to inspect. Brady and Jarvy pull the red curtains off of a framed, team-signed jersey with 1000 instead of 37 on the back and a painting of Andrei’s Stanley Cup winning goal from two years ago.

“Daddy,” Evie tugs on his jersey, whispering, “that’s not the right number on your jersey!”

“That’s because it’s a special jersey for all the games I’ve played,” Andrei explains while ushering them into position as the entire team skates over for a group picture. Evie and Alina ham it up for the picture, but there’s nothing you can do about that except smile.

Andrei kisses you before you leave the ice, “I love you, solnyshka.”

“I love you too, Mister Svechnikov,” you grin against his mouth. “Now go win a game.”

He winks at you before skating back to the bench.

“Now what?” Evie asks as you walk down the tunnel. She’s holding Elena’s hand and swinging it back and forth.

“Now,” you grin at her, giving a little shimmy of excitement that gets Kira giggling, “we party in the suite!”

The girls cheer and rush ahead, staying within eyesight. Igor trails after them and Elena falls into step next to you. Kira leans from your arms and reaches for Elena, so you transfer her over. She snuggles into Elena’s neck.

“This one,” Elena smiles, patting Kira’s back softly, “is just like Andreyusha at the same age. All cuddles and those big eyes, watching everything, planning.”

“They’re all little Drei clones,” you laugh. “We’re lucky to have him. Thank you for raising him into such a wonderful man.”

Elena squeezes your forearm. “Igor and I took Andrei so far, but you and he, you are a wonderful team, wonderful parents. We are so proud to have you as our daughter.”

You wipe at your eyes and laugh wetly, “too bad PNC doesn’t run on tears. We could’ve had this place powered up for a year.”

The girls absolutely thrive in the suite, dancing to the music and eating as many snacks as they can get their little hands on. At one point, you’re on the Jumbotron for the Kiss Cam and the girls scream with delight when they each plant a kiss on your cheeks. It’s one of the more fun games you can remember, mostly because the girls are engaged and excited, and Andrei is clearly having the time of his life on the ice.

When he scores, he points up at your suite and you blow him a kiss that he probably can’t even see, remembering the first time he scored after you had started dating, when you were sitting right behind the Canes bench and he had pointed right at you, grinning with the dimple.

If you could tell that girl that one day she’d be here, ten years later, living her dream life and watching that same twenty-two year old with his little hair wings and dimple celebrate his one thousandth game, you don’t think she’d believe you.

#andrei svechnikov x reader #andrei svechnikov imagine #andrei svechnikov x you #andrei svechnikov #andrei svechnikov fic

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dacreshoney · 6 months

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English is my second language, please don't hate my terrible writing... I just write it as it comes to my head:)

Been dreaming a while about this storyline and I just wanted to write it down as something for me to smile about. Please excuse how bad it is :))

ACTRESS X AUSTIN BUTLER STORY

Background: You were a world famous young actress who had been in major hit tv shows and films. You started out as a child actress in Harry Potter where you had a young romance with actor Tom Felton at the time. Also having dated One direction star Harry styles in your teenage years, having a fling with your co star Henry cavil in the TV series the tudors, Mamma Mia, Burlesque and Other shows such as The Witcher, stranger things (where you had previously just split before filming top gun with Dacre Montgomery, after your 3 year relationship Dacre decided he wanted to focus on himself and you both felt you were better as friends) he neglected your relationship and didn't put you first. This was where you had a fling after with co star glen Powell, but both decided you were better as friends. You were at the peak of your career, everyone wanted you, everyone wanted to be you and around you. With such a busy schedule ahead of you, with so many things lined up. You'd just finished filming top gun maverick and had daisy jones and the six to finish filming. The premiere in Cannes for top gun came with so many new exciting opportunities for you, with a certain Mr Butler having a say in who would be his Priscilla Presley in the new Film Elvis.

Your POV:

It was the night of the Top gun Premiere in Cannes, you were getting ready with your team in the hotel you were staying at, the gorgeous Hôtel Barrière Le Majestic.This wasn't your first time in Cannes, you had been here for a few film premiers before, but you could still never get used to it, even after all your success, at such a young age bearing in mind. Being surrounded by all the stars you had looked up to for years and working with them, like Tom cruise, cmon.. such a pinch me moment. It's such a surreal moment sat there on the makeup chair looking out onto the French rivera, having your makeup done, having all these people around you tailoring your new designer dress that had just been made and flown in by Ellie Saab. A gorgeous Pearl flowing dress with a subtle smokey eye makeup to bring out the colour of your eyes with Hollywood curls in your hair, slightly tucked behind your ears.

(your gown for Cannes)

Your agent Natalie came in to round you and your co stars up, you were staying in the next room to your co star and recent fling Glenn Powell since your split with Dacre. The two of you had one crazy and weird night, you and glenn had become close during filming and one cast night out got way out of hand and ended up with you two sleeping together, for you both in the morning to just laugh about it and to this day are the best of friends. You clutched onto your dress following your agent out and headed towards the film festival.

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These events were always nerve wracking, in your head you just tried your best not to fall over, your agent edging you along the red carpet with your co stars, lining you up infant of the paparazzi ready to take single and cast photos. Tonight was a big night for you, you were going to perform the hit song from the movie tonight, Hold my hand, not only and actress anymore, you started divulging into more musical things now with your career which essential you trained in all three, singing, acting and dancing. A triple threat some will say. Before the event your agent started guiding you to some interviewers before the main event of the premiere and performance. You smiled widely as you greeted the interviewers, they asked the general questions of the movie and the cast you were working with, these questions always ended up with the odd personal question thrown in there also.

"so Y/N, we know you have to hurry along but the news of you and dacre, obviously very sad but do you think he will be happy for you tonight and what are you plans going forward from this, is there anyone tonight you are hoping to meet and network with?"

"umm" you began, giggling slightly to make it less awkward, "you know life happens, me and dacre are still very much friends, id know he'd definitely be supporting me and vice versa on his journey. some things aren't meant to be but that's okay, we are all adults here and you know I'm excited for what's next for me, I've got a lot coming my way and you never know, something may come out of tonight. I just want to enjoy tonight, meet some new people and yeah I hear the royal family are here tonight so that will be a cool thing, like I've never met a royal so.."

"thank you for that, really appreciate your time and massive congratulations and good look with your performance tonight, we look forward to it" the interviewer smiled.

"Thank you so much, I will need it aha" you say being guided away into the film hall.

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The performance came and went, you had a standing ovation from the crowd, this was a massive thing for you. All these people in the crowd were actors and actresses you looked up to and for them to be giving you a standing ovation was something else. You had had your congratulations from your co stars and a few famous faces, it was later after your performance that you were being guided to your table where a tall figure was standing, a male it looked like from where you were walking, blonde hair shining in the lights above him. You stopped as Natalie found your seat and this male figure stumbled back a little onto your toe, you had kind of numbed out the pain as you'd been in heels all day, his hands were cupped as if he had just been clapping or praying, he stood in awe of you as you approached. A small smile came from the corner of his mouth as he met your gaze.

"my god I'm so sorry, I didn't step on you did I?"

You looked at him smiling, you could tell he was a little shy, he had confidence in his eyes but a shy soul underneath.

"Its ok honestly, I was looking for an excuse to take these heels off really, so thanks for that" you winked, the blonde smiled back at you, his eyes tracing your face so intently.

" glad I could be of service, please here let me get your seat, I am really sorry though" he laughed as he pulled out your seat

"such a gentlemen".. you said as you slowly sat down on the pulled out chair, still keeping his gaze, " but seriously its fine, don't stress, I can see you wincing a little" you joked with him, trying to ease his shyness, you recognised his face, this was Austin butler, you'd watched a few shows with him in when you were younger, carried diaries and rumours had it it was going to be the new Elvis.

"that transparent am I"

"just a little" you winked as you gestured with your hands the little minute sign with your fingers, he then sat down to face you on the opposite chair.

"Austin right? you questioned "I'm..." you were interrupted

"Y/N, yeah I know", he laughed nervously "you were phenomenal up there you know and your movie, I mean you were incredible"

"thank you, that means so much to me like you wouldn't believe, I was shaking up there" you held out your hands to show him your shaking fingers, the adrenaline from the performance still.

"I'm surprised you even knew my name just then to be honest" sounding surprised

"of course, you are the new Elvis right? that's very exciting" you said placing your hand to tap his knee "and I've seen your face around, just never actually got round to saying hi"

smiling at your hand placement he responded "Yeah I am ah, very exciting, just hope to do him some justice you know"

"oh love I'm sure you will, you are great you know or just do a me and just pretend you know what you are doing and everyone will just think that guys got their shit together" you laughed, trying to give him a little confidence boost. shrugging his shoulder with yours.

"thank you y/n , I think I might just have to do that aha"

"I'm sure you will smash it" your agent gesturing that it was time for you to leave, "well looks like I'm being ushered out of here Mr Butler, but it was so nice meeting you and I absolutely can't wait for this to be the other way round and I'm congratulating you as I am sure I will be"

Austin's POV:

Y/N performance blew him away, he had always been a huge fan of yours and he'd come across you at so many events but had never had the guts to say anything to you, You was in a relationship with Dacre as well at all these events, so he never had the chance and now that you were single he'd found the perfect opportunity. Later that night after meeting you, you were all that was on Austins mind, he had phoned his agent later that night as he knew you'd have to be his Priscilla in Elvis, so many actresses had come and gone but no one he could get that chemistry with. He had to find a way to reach you.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

You'd first met Austin during Cannes in 2022 when you had been a part of the Top gun maverick cast, you were half way filming Daisy ones and the six at this point. You had your first day off in a long Time, you just sat down when you opened your phone to 4 missed calls from your agent and a text to call her asap.

"Nat, 4 missed calls, who died?"

"I thought you did with the amount of times I've rang you, I've just had a strange call from another agent and they said an Austin Butler and Baz luhrmann has been trying to reach you?"

"Baz Lurhmann?? and Austin Butler as in the new Elvis Austin..??"

"yeah, so they want you to be the new Priscilla, apparently this Austin guy told Baz and he wants to start shooting with you straight away"

"no on screen chemistry read or audition?"

"nope none at all, this Austin guy really wants you to play her so, guess that's that"

Baz frisking lurhmann wants you to be in his new film, ELVIS. Austin butler requested you to be Priscilla, why?? .... you were so confused but so excited about it, your schedule was about to get a whole lot busier and your life so much more exciting.

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#austin butler au #austin x reader #austinbutleredit #imagines #austin butler fanfiction #austin butler x oc #elvis presley #Priscilla

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booksteaandtoomuchtv · 1 year

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Galaxy Con 2023: Colin O'Donoghue

My experience at Galaxy Con 2023 in Raleigh, which will be entirely Colin O'Donoghue-focused since meeting him was the only reason I dragged my entire family to Raleigh for the hottest and most humid weekend of our year.

We arrived at Colin's booth at 10 on Saturday and secured the second position in his autograph line. Someone asked the Galaxy Con volunteer when Colin would arrive, but she hadn't met him or talked to him yet. She just noted that his photo ops were scheduled for 12:15 and some of the talent did not arrive until their photo op time. A few of us got nervous about which queue we should remain in as time ticked by ever so slowly.

I got to chat with some lovely Colin fans and their spouses while my kiddos grew tired of waiting. After about an hour and fifteen minutes, the kiddos had it and were taken to a children's museum with their cousins by my spouse. As his luck would have it, that is when Colin arrived. Around 11:25, Colin's agent arrives at the booth and sets up the booth with Hook photos (like the one below) and discusses the flow with the Galaxy Con Volunteer. At this point, Colin's queue is three or four rows deep in front of the booth, wraps around the corner, snakes around to a larger aisle and seems to be rivalling the "headliners" that Galaxy Con heavily advertised.

Colin arrives, following quickly behind his agent and weaving through the crowd. He looks a bit overwhelmed and fairly exhausted. When he approaches there is a mix of awe and cheers and clapping, but as he settles and everyone realises that he is there, a louder cheer follows. It makes him bush. It endears him to you even further.

As he settles in, still absorbing his queue and saying apologies directed to no one in particular because he had a late flight, he looks to the Galaxy Con volunteer that will be working with him and flashes a brilliant smile, greets her warmly, and introduces himself to her. She jokes that everyone is jealous of her and has been trying to trade her jobs.

His face is complete and honest confusion when he asks her why. And, she has the fun task of explaining to Colin that he is Colin. His face turns a deeper red as he settles into his chair to start his long day of signing autographs and making memories for each person he speaks to that day.

Colin clearly takes that part of the con very seriously. He gives every fan his full attention, listening intently, graciously accepting gifts, greeting them and chatting with them so that each person is allowed their moment with him. Again, you cannot help but find yourself more endeared with him as you watch him consciously make an effort to make every single encounter special.

When I handed him the picture my daughter drew of him as Hook last year to sign, he listened so kindly to the whole story. When I was finished, he asked if he could draw her a hook when he signed. It struck me as such an incredibly sweet question. (Of course, I said "Absolutely. You can do whatever you want! She'll LOVE it.") Then, I got a selfie with him...well, after my shaking hands remembered how to operate the camera on my phone.

Photo Ops

The photo ops were incredibly quick. You got just a few seconds with him as they hurried everyone along. In that time, the time to walk up to him, look at the camera and smile, he still put forth the effort to greet and thank everyone as they passed through. It was just lovely to see the extraordinary amount of effort Colin put in to make every moment that you get with him meaningful. It is so striking against the backdrop of a convention that was clearly focused on getting as many people through as possible to capitalise on profits.

Colin Panel and Q&A

Colin's panel fills up quickly. Six minutes before the panel is slated to begin, the room is standing room only. With the SAG strike ongoing, the rules are set forth that we cannot discuss that thing he was in with the thing on his hand but we can discuss stage productions and animated series he has been in.

When Colin walks out to the stage, he is very clearly shocked at how full the room is for his panel.

The moderator starts the conversation with pretty standard questions and some general background - when did you get into acting, etc. We learn that Colin has over thirty guitars, one owned by Ringo, and an amp that Rory Gallagher (his hero, btw) used while he toured. He also dismissed the title of "musician" that the moderator used a few times, saying he was no longer a musician. When asked what his perfect day would be, he gave the answer spending time with his kids since his career means that there are periods that he goes without seeing them for a while. And while the answer is undoubtedly sweet, it also broke my heart for him.

Then, they opened the floor for questions so long as you avoided BTS questions about that thing he did with the thing on his hand. There were times that he danced around exact shows or roles and he was genuinely terrified of saying something that would get him in trouble. The moderator was very, very good at guiding him or the questions to protect him from misstepping.

Over the course of the panel, Colin may have revealed that he enjoys cooking. He stated that one of his favourite holiday traditions is cooking the Christmas Dinner (there is turkey, Brussel sprouts, Christmas pudding, amongst other things) and he likes to add a bit of prosciutto and thyme to his pineapple pizza. He has tried jellyfish- "It was weird." And, he likes pistachio and real vanilla ice cream. He must have been starving at this point (his panel was over lunch), because they gave him a blue sour candy and a green sour treat for answering that he'd be Batman if he were a superhero from comic books and the Joker if he were a supervillain and he clearly disliked the candy and still ate the second one just moments later. He didn't like it any better.

He was interesting enough to hold a two-year-old and a four-year-old captive for the entire duration of his panel. They loved seeing "Captain Hook with a Hand" in person and Caden said "Caden Hello" to him almost audibly when I made it to the microphone to ask my question. The little smile that Colin gave my kiddos when they reached the mic was the sweetest and most wonderful thing.

Quick replay:

He likes sour and salty things, crisps are one of his favourite foods.

Yes, he would support his kids if they wanted to go into the film industry. He would want to ensure they really wanted to do it though.

He is always touched to know his work has touched people or gotten them through difficult times. He loves that the show with the thing has brought people together and created a community for so many of them.

He is afraid of absolutely nothing. No fears. Except for panels, which he thinks is obvious by what he said during the panel.

He would be a black labrador x retriever cross. His character from that one thing with the leather thing would have a black labrador cross. If he had a pet mythical creature it would be Cyberus, the three-headed dog, the Hell hound. All three of the heads would be black labrador cross and it would be extremely friendly.

His mum gave him the best life advice that he has ever had. You should put 100% into everything that you do and you should always be kind.

He would be Douxie out of all his characters since Douxie has magic. "Who doesn't want to be a wizard?"

He likes to read everything, especially a good mystery like Stephen King. His favourite fantasy novel is Lord of the Rings and The Hobbit.

Star Wars is his favourite film.

As a child, his favourite show was the original Ghostbuster cartoons (he had all the action figures) and Duck Tales (his kids love the reboot).

He hates the beard. But, he does have a new role and he is working on something new.

He does like to do prep work. On the one that he only had three days to prepare, he'd read the book. So, that helped him prepare. He doesn't have to prepare too much for accents because he loves accents and talks to himself in different accents all the time. (And, he did as a kid.) He thinks American comes to him easily because he consumed so much American television while growing up. He was particularly proud that a couple from Oklahoma told him his accent in the thing he only had three days to prepare for was a good Oklahoma accent.

He trusts writers have written the best ending for the shows they are writing. (This was specifically about the Tales of Arcadia series, but he answered generally and specifically.) He said it was valid to disagree with the ending or to dislike because everyone thinks things should end a certain way and that is as valid as the actual ending. He thinks that endings are particularly difficult because people don't actually like when things end.

He isn't a prankster but his friend out there in the world, Josh Dallas, is a prankster. He had a fart machine in a fictional forest that he would set off at opportune times.

NO! (playfully), he is not friends with anyone from that one thing he did. He did see Gen and Josh when he was in LA in January and keeps in close touch with Sean.

He supports Manchester United.

His scent as a candle would be pina colada.

He got to use his Irish accent in Luck and he did heighten it a bit, really leaning into it where he could. In the animation booth, you have to almost overact and overdo it so they can animate it well.

His favourite city that he has worked in/travelled to is Vancouver. It is too far away from his home, but it is where his kids were born and he loved his time there. It felt like home, but his family and real home were too far away.

He got accepted into university for special effects and such. He'd probably have ended up doing that if he wasn't acting.

And, when I asked what song he would play he was to have theme music that played in his life every time he entered a room...he told us about the time he would play INXS' "Need You Tonight" and strut out and do a very fun hip wiggle that is more effective with the leather and eyeliner. (But, he sampled it for us and it was still effective. :) )

I will treasure these memories and this experience. Thanks to all the hard work Colin put into this weekend and to his willingness to spend a weekend being entirely too hot and sweaty with us in Raleigh.

#galaxy con raleigh 2023 #colin o'donoghue #galaxy con raleigh #galaxy con

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