Description: Nathan Drake is not the exact definition of an unhappy man. His job is steady, his friends still see him from time to time, he plays football, but his marriage is his main problem. Many things will change when a special person comes to his life.
Part Summary: It was becoming more and more obvious that something isn’t right between Nate and Elena, just as he was discovering how much of an amazing person you were.
A/N: A lot has changed ever since I started this damn series… It is MORE than a year old. And I still do love Nathan, he deserves all the love and cuteness, smut and attention his brother gets. Like… I love Sam too, and y’all know that, but sometimes you need the softness and love in your life. ♥
A/N:Just a quick reminder that this Nate is in his early 30s’ and Sully is in his early 40s’. It takes place after Honor Among Thieves, where Nate and Elena and Nate got married, but didn’t found the way to work the things out.
Nathan couldn’t believe what he had just done. His blue eyes were scanning the phone, his lungs weren’t getting the amount of air they needed and his heart was racing. He had just called you. Asked you if you’d like to hang out with him. And you said yes. Nate breathed out steadily, and before he could stop himself, he was doing his happy dance.
Nathan, being a grown-up he seemed to be with his muscles and 5'11 height was a small kid inside an adult’s man body. For starters, he was always singing and dancing when he was happy, or when he tried to kill some time in his car - and he wasn’t a good singer at all. He had his happy dances when no-one could see him dancing. Another thing was that this man adored the movie Notting Hill with Julia Roberts and he cried every damn time he saw the movie. He loved to buy himself an ice-cream, was loud, and loved to laugh. He was dorky in his own, irresistible way as Elena often put it.
Oh, Nathan stopped. What would’ve Elena think about this? She would be most probably cool with him seeing a friend, right? Like, he went with Frazer for beers and stuff, why would be Elena worried about him going to play some Scrabble with another friend? A girl he had just met? A girl he was all over his heels for? Nathan shook his head as he stood in front of half-emptied wardrobe since El had taken most of her things with her, already dialing her number. She answered after a small while.
“Hey, hey, did something happened?” - She mumbled sleepily, having Nathan curse under his breath. He forgot about the time difference thingy. He was creating various looks on the bed, thinking about what is most suitable for the occasion.
“No, I’m fine, I don’t have anything broken just yet, the flat didn’t catch on fire, everything’s fine here.” - The man named every horror scenario he could think of, finishing it with a slight chuckle. Elena on the other side didn’t find it funny at all, leaving a frustrated sigh to make her husband realize she isn’t in the mood for his jests. - “But Sully has a girlfriend.” - He mentioned just, by the way, settling on a dark blue t-shirt and khaki pants that made his ass popping as Chloe told him many times. These pants were old, but they were still presentable.
“And you’re calling me at three a.m. to tell me that Victor found himself a girlfriend? Nate… I have to wake up early today.” - Elena sighed, doing something in the background. She knew that once Nate had woken her up, she won’t be able to fall asleep again, so she went to make her a cup of coffee.
“I am not calling you at three a.m. just to tell you that Sully has a girlfriend, who is at least fifteen younger, by the way. I’m calling you because a friend asked me if I wouldn’t mind hanging out with her because her boyfriend is at work, so…” - He left out a small pause, rolling his eyes around, walking around the flat like a little boy.
“Nathan, let me remind you that you’re thirty-and-something years old man who has the right to decide who he wants to hang out with.” - “And won’t you be mad ar me, or jealous, or something?” - “Do you want me to?” - Elena asked with a dry chuckle. Nathan didn’t expect that Elena would be so cool about this. He expected a lot, but not such a calm attitude. Nathan had quite a time while trying to come up with an answer for Elena.
“Listen, I just wanted to let you know.” - Nate sighed in the end, waiting for a moment before hearing Elena chuckle on the other side of the phone. - “Yeah, but you still woke me up this early. Unforgivable.” - The woman joked and for a moment, Nate felt seriously bad about himself and the whole situation around you. - “I love you.” - Nate whispered after a moment, waiting for her answer. But, just like the last time, there was no I love you said back.
“Enjoy the hangout and don’t drink too much. You know how much you love Notting Hill when you’re drunk. Bye.” - His wife whispered in the end, ending the call. The man felt hurt for a reason he couldn’t exactly name. Nathan was an endless romantic with his whole soul - he loved to cook surprise dinner for Elena when they were together, he brought her flowers at least once a week, bought her some sweets when he felt like the needs to sweeten her life a bit and he once even did the cliché thing with petals leading to the bed. This man needed to feel he’s being loved, that he’s being appreciated and cared for.
Yet Elena seemed to be super-distant even if she knew about it. But Nathan wasn’t the type to pressure into doing things, he was too sweet for that. He cared for the woman and wanted nothing more than seeing her contained. And so far, it seemed she’s more or less feeling happy in some way.
After ten minutes of preparations, like styling his hair with water and finding the best was to style his t-shirt, he set to go to the market, as he promised you. This man loved ratatouille with his whole heart. It was somehow reminding him of the days when everything was way simpler. When he was younger and he and Sam were traveling through the states, he was the one doing the cooking when they didn’t have enough money for picking something at a Chinese restaurant. And ratatouille was simple and quick, not that much expansive. And his lemon cake? Jesus, you’ll love it.
Nate was just arguing about the cost of the zucchinis when you texted him your address, telling him you somehow managed to clean the place up. Which filled Nate with new energy - so much that he paid a horrendous amount of money for a couple of fresh zucchinis. It wasn’t too far from the market, so maybe, if you’d like to know where to get the best fresh goods, he could take you there. Nathan caught himself grinning and humming a song when he finally walked through your street - you lived in the modern, yet indie-feeling one. The houses were small, almost as if in a Mexican village and each of them had a different color. There was a bright, yellow one, then one with a blood-red facade, grass-green one, and your house had a color of the sky. It could be known that you’re a student, as you told him because bands and independent artists were playing on the streets until the deep night, so the rant was significantly reduced and this was a part of the city young people lived in.
Yet it filled Nate with this sort of energy and it made him grin as he watched a guitarist serenading for some tourist, who was giggling. It made him feel a bit younger than he was… Well, he wasn’t old by any means, but he still was a dude in his thirties, so he wasn’t the youngest in the game either. But soon enough, he was calling you as he stood in front of the door, tapping his feet around nervously. Suddenly, he heard someone calling his name, and before he could say something, he saw you leaning down from your balcony, waving your hands wildly.
“Watch out for the keys!” - You cried out, pulling your hand out so he would see them. First, he chuckled and then nodded, so you let them fall. It was the first time you’ve seen someone catch the keys to their palm. It took him barely a minute to run the stairs up and dear Lord, he had this grin as soon as he saw you. You had this jean overall with one of the suspenders fallen off your shoulder, a white t-shirt and messy hair. Jesus, you were looking even better than Nate remembered you.
“Hey there.” - You smiled goofily, stepping aside from the door, finding the man in. - “And welcome to my kingdom. Please, we hope you don’t mind a bit of mess.” - You giggled and stopped him when he wanted to take his shoes off.
“I don’t mind a mess since I am a bit of one myself.” - Nathan answered back playfully, finding this new sense of confidence inside of him. It made him feel good when you laughed out loud at the statement, shaking your head with an unbelieving smile. Your place was really cute and as far as Nate could tell, it suited you… And your boyfriend. Most of the things was still in the boxes, the furniture was unassembled and… - “Why didn’t you tell me that you need help with painting the walls?” - Nate asked you.
Jesus, that didn’t even cross your mind. Nathan was still a stranger to you, even if you called him a friend already. You met for this one afternoon a week or so ago during the storm, but you hadn’t talked since that day. He didn’t even text you or anything. So, naturally, it didn’t come across that you could ask Nate to help you with accommodating the new household. The only thing you’ve had fully equipped was a kitchen - and that was because you already bought the flat with an equipped kitchen and bathroom.
“Calm your horses, I’ve had enough of a hard time to make sure the water is running so you can cook me the damn lunch. I’m starving.” - A joke left you as you opened up the living room windows. Nate’s expression was enough for you to start explaining. - “Mike usually does this stuff, I’m the worst technician you could befriend, so, don’t ask me to repair stuff for you, okay?” - Oh shit, Mike. Your boyfriend. Right. Don’t let your feelings get the best of you, Nate, the man spoke with himself.
“So, what does lunch, Scrabble, and painting your living room sound like?” - Nate asked and put all the vegetables on the table, smiling at you daringly.
“Oh, no, no, no. I asked you to hang out with me, not to slave work for me.” - You marched right next to him, pulling out some knives, pans, and pots for him. - “And you’d ruin your t-shirt and I don’t want to buy you a whole new one. I’ll manage on my own.” - This made the man chuckle as you still kept talking to him while chaotically running around, assembling the dishes for him. You were going through various boxes on the ground, having a slight furrow on your face.
“Yeah, I can see how you’re managing with these tomcats all over the wall, good job. I mean it, I have a day off anyway.” - The man answered you with a soft giggle at the end, already working with the vegetables. What surprised him was that you stood next to him in the next minute, helping him with the cooking.
“Your wife would be angry that you wouldn’t be home for dinner. It must’ve already weirded her out that you’re going to cook lunch for this random girl.” - The topic of Elena made Nate gulp quietly, letting the playful grin disappear from his face. For a moment, you thought you hit the soft spot, but then the man bumped with his elbow to your upper arm.
“Elena… She’s out of the states now. She’s working on an article in Thailand, and for your information, she was proud of her hubby doing such a gentleman thing about not letting a girl starve to death.” - Oh, crap. Nathan wished for the things to be as he was interpreting them. He wished to talk about with Elena, because maybe if their relationship would’ve been better, he wouldn’t crush on you straightaway. But those were only speculations. What could Nathan know?
“Do you have her picture? I’m kinda curious about what she looks like. If that isn’t… Too weird, of course.” - You stuttered out. Nathan was caught off guard with your wish, but in the end, he wiped his hands and pulled his phone up, showing you a photo from their most recent vacation in Brazil. She was smiling into the camera, holding a glass of wine and her hair was let down. She was also beautifully tanned at the time. You opened up your mouth, smiling at the sight of Nathan’s wife. - “Wow. She’s like… Pretty. You’re one lucky guy, Nate, I tell you.” - As if, Nathan answered, but he did his best to nod and hum in agreement.
When this weird little thingy about Elena was off the table, you both concentrated on your cooking. Nathan could see why you told him that you’re not the best cook either, but you were doing his best to help him. But the pie was even more fun to prepare than the ratatouille. First, you shoved the main course into the oven, making the sweet end after that. It was both looking miraculous to you since you would eat anything the man would serve you. And no matter how hot the food was, you had some appetite. Nathan hadn’t seen anyone eat his food with such a passion for a long time - not even in the restaurant.
When the lunch was over, you pulled an old box with scrabble out of nowhere, putting on the table. - “Now, now, what you have to understand, Nate, is that this box is a relic. I wouldn’t be surprised if it would be older than me… So, naturally, most of the letters are missing and you’ll have to have hella imagination playing this game.” - You presented him, putting the board down. This was a nice spent time while letting the food settle down inside of you - you were laughing a lot with Nathan and his main tactic. The man was trying to convince you that most of the words he made up were real. Soon, you pulled a dictionary, and Nate knew he’s screwed at the moment.
When you proved Nathan you’re actually like… Ten times smarter than him, it was the time to paint your living room. The sun was slowly setting down, so you lit up every light you could find and blasted some playlists on your laptop, making the man dance at once song. Which made you laugh from the bottom of your heart.
“What?” - Nate turned to you with the roll in his hand, already having paint on his face.
“This was… So… Terrible. I suppose you hadn’t picked Elena on your dancing skills, huh?” - You mumbled, drying the tears off. Then, you stepped forward to take the paint from his face, still chuckling at the memory of him dancing. But Nathan’s world just stopped for a moment when he felt your hands running on his face, your fingertips touching him gently. It made his heart jump a bit higher with joy, even if he had to fought the urge to lean into the warm touch.
“Unfortunately not, but, I am just a good dancer and you’re jealous.” - Nate teased you when he gained his consciousness back, making you stop as you watched his face unbelievably. With a burst of laughter, you smacked his shoulder playfully, leaning away.
“That’s how it is?” - You asked, finding a different song in the playlist to show Mr. Drake how real dancers dance-like. - “Yeah, that’s how it is.” - Nate answered light-heartedly, looking at you already vibing to another song. With one daring look, you turned at him, making the craziest dance creations Nathan had ever seen. After a while of your theatrics, the man finally chuckled, continuing with painting the wall. He was leaving around eight in the evening, just a while before Mike came home from work and listened about your adventurous day.
On his way home, Nathan stopped at one of the artists, listening to the girl playing guitar and singing for someone she was deeply in love with. And instead of Elena, he was thinking about you when he was putting a few dollars to the guitar case. He couldn’t wait to see you again.
I’m fantasising about being forcibly impregnated with an alien baby. Not knowing that it’s inside me at first. My stomach would be bloated and hurting, but I wouldn’t know why. I’d get a sinking feeling, getting paranoid that my belly was expanding, getting heavier. I’d pass it off as big meals I’d eaten, but my stomach would continue to swell, getting tighter by the second.
Eventually, my stomach would drop, as if there were a huge bowling ball inside of me, weighing me down. Then, it would start squirming, slowly at first, but getting steadily more noticeable, to the point where I would be painfully aware that I was indeed pregnant, and with something unnatural. It would mould my huge belly from the inside, kicking outwards, making me cry out in agony and pleasure. I’d try to soothe it, but to no avail.
I would be drum tight, my sides marred by small stretch marks, trying to prop myself up and adjust to the sudden heaviness of my distended middle that had dropped between my legs, brushing against my dick. I would marvel at my new, gravid pregnant stomach, stroking myself all over, caressing my popped out belly button tentatively.
Then, the contractions would start. I’d stroke my heaving stomach, trying to relieve some of the tension. I’d moan and groan and try to soothe the aching mound, but the violent movements would be too much for me. I’d beg for them to come out of me as my water breaks, but this is just the beginning.
thinking about every single time tim made a comment in s1/s2 about how the staff in the archives weren’t friends and how he didn’t trust them and then in ep161,,, the surprise party,,,, it was tim’s idea :….))))))
I gave your recipe for Brock’s cream stew a shot and I’m super pleased with it!! and so are the other people who ate some when i made it
The steps were easy to follow and the results were delicious tbh, i was worried I hadn’t cut the veggies to the small I’m definitely saving the recipe to use again at some point because like.. its Big tasty. and im really looking forward to trying more of your recipes in the future!!
Foxy response ♡ THANK YOU!!! you do not know how much to makes my heart swell!! I’m so happy you enjoyed it and I’m so incredibly happy you shared your photo with me! If anyone else had made this and had taken a photo please send it to me! Let me know how it went I want to know!!!♡ Post link
I just know Kirishima has such a nasty streak inside him and I want him to take it out on me
No, because he’s such a nice guy and everyone would think that it would translate to bed too. Think he’ll be the vanilla type, who would fuck you in missionary with tender kisses and a gentle grip.
Of course Kirishima would do that 1000%, but he would rather make you cry. Make you beg for him to slow down as he pull another orgasm from your trembling body. Forces you to shut up as he fucks you in his agency’s shower as other heros walk around the same locker room not knowing what’s going on. Records pushing into your tight cunt and watch as his dick shines with your slick as he pulls out.
That soft, toothy smile hides more than what people think :)
Ollie was tired of his encounter with Sandy already, and he was rapidly losing his patience. Normally he would have been able to quell the wrath he felt, suppress his own emotions, but not now, not today. Not like this. Today he was feeling violent, and for once he actually felt the freedom to act on what he felt.
The explosion with which he rocketed into movement surprised even himself. One moment he was several feet away from Sandy; the next, his fingers were curled in the collar of the pimp’s shirt, strong-arming him from his chair to the wall. His arms pressed Sandy against the wall with a determination he hadn’t felt in ages, his breathing coming quick and shallow.
God, he was angry.
“Too slow,” he said, a twinge of amusement marking his tone. “I’m tired of the games.”
A part of him feared that Sandy wouldn’t react, would try to reason out of it, but he sure hoped not.
As soon as Oxford grabbed him, Sandy’s body went ramrod straight. He hardly felt the impact of his back hitting the wall, or anything except the rapid beating of his heart against his chest. Tempting Sandy McKenzie’s rage was one of the least intelligent things a person could do, largely because Sandy McKenzie ceased to exist once his anger got the best of him.
Sandy only existed in the most base of his senses; the sound of blood rushing through his ears, the smell of sweat and liquor. Sandy was all too aware of it in moments like these. And he was also extremely aware of the goddamn letter opener that was still clutched between his fingers.
Oxford was saying something but Sandy couldn’t have cared less what he said. His arm rose upward quickly, jabbing the letter opener as hard as he could into the man’s collar.
Blood gushed forth quickly, coating the once white collar of his shirt. Sandy jabbed the opener in further as he pushed him back, sending Oxford falling back onto his desk.
His guards, God bless them, were throwing open the doors as soon as the sound of breaking glass could be heard. They were on Ollie in a second, looking to their boss only after the potential threat had been somewhat secured.
“Get him the fuck out of here,” Sandy hissed, his eyes locked on Ollie’s as he spoke. “And if he tries to come back in, I’ll fucking finish him off myself.’
![salzrand: 30 Shades of Fluff [10/30] Autumn on Bear Island for @fandomsbyladymelodrama ——————————— P](https://64.media.tumblr.com/fd44b5034bd80c67ae207b96aa085f36/81e46804a641051f-17/s1280x1920/28d1eebb4a095991b227c2b0d1794dcb62b85dd3.jpg "salzrand: 30 Shades of Fluff [10/30] Autumn on Bear Island for @fandomsbyladymelodrama ——————————— P")
![salzrand: 30 Shades of Fluff [10/30] Autumn on Bear Island for @fandomsbyladymelodrama ——————————— P](https://64.media.tumblr.com/392e2e51b08c4dce898c6ba4cec5d502/81e46804a641051f-75/s1280x1920/7910429f8592fcdeb820a3c231ff696c51657e4b.jpg "salzrand: 30 Shades of Fluff [10/30] Autumn on Bear Island for @fandomsbyladymelodrama ——————————— P")
