#it's a lovely little patio garden someone takes good care of it

[batmanisagatewaydrug]

why don't you look out a stranger's window and a glimpse of a life completely different and very like yours and remember we're all interconnected. and maybe you'll calm down.

#i am listening to the birds tweeting in somene's garden in raipur #and i feel cleansed #sometimes a dog barks nearby :) #it's a lovely little patio garden someone takes good care of it #and i feel very lucky that they wanted to let a stranger see it

[chelseypprimrose]

Handy With His Hands / handyman!negan x housewife!reader / 18+ / pre-apocalypse

Warnings ⚠️ : unprotected sex, adultery, oral (f receiving), rough sex elements

Summary: being a housewife is quite dull, especially when your husband is a corporate jackass- until a sexy handyman comes to fix your shower.

A/N: I got this little saucy story in my head while reading some handyman!joel miller stories and I just thought: Negan + handyman? so hot! my stories are always something out of a cheesy porno scenario but idec , i know i’m never going to have these fantasies happen to me in the real world so i believe it’s self care to let my dulu stories write out on paper 🤭 please enjoy 🤍

not proof read yet 🫣

“can you please just get someone to come and look at that thing? i’m sick of having to take cold showers!” you exclaimed, your voice travelling from the kitchen to the living room where your husband was on a phone call. “i’m on the phone, honey.” he replied back, hidden annoyance in his tone, recognisable to you but if anyone else was to hear, they’d think it to be cheerful. you cursed him out in your head, counting down the hours until he was going to be gone on his long business trip. finally, you’d be able to take a break from your expected housewife duties, one of your favourite things to do when your husband was away, catch a few rays in your back garden, take a dip naked in the swimming pool. you had to find thrills where you could as your life was a revolving door of the same boring routine, day in and day out. you craved for something, some sort of adventure to come into your life and completely turn it on its head, you were still waiting on that day unfortunately.

you’d been married to your husband for around three years now, even if it felt like forty. it had been a fairytale at the beginning, he’d get you flowers every week, freshly picked, take you out for dinner at least four times a month, he’d seemed like the perfect man to get married to, until you were locked in, bounded by the commitment and paperwork. he’d neglected those responsibilities, it was rare for him to even take you out for a date night anymore, it was usually just forcing you to go to dinner meetings so he could show you off to potential clients, having to spend your evening being hit on and leered over by slimy old men, your body used to close business deals. always buying you some diamond necklace or earrings after the fact, to keep you happy. you spent most of your time at home when not being used as a dress up doll for your husband, cooking, cleaning, keeping the house in perfect condition - not that he ever noticed.

“alright, i’ve got someone coming round to look at the shower, i’ve got to leave for my flight dear. i love you. i’ll give you a call when i land.” he says, his suitcase rolling on four wheels beside him, his head coming down for a peck on your lips, absolutely no spark or electricity through the kiss, not like it used to be. you mumbled a love you back, as you watched him walk out of the front door, a sigh of relief when the door shut behind him. you took your apron off, placing it on the hook next to the cabinets in the kitchen. walking upstairs into your shared bedroom, you quickly changed out of your clothes, putting on a new two piece bikini you’d treated yourself to a couple weeks ago, topping it off with a pair of sunglasses to keep the sun out of your eyes. grabbing a towel on your way out, you slid the patio door open, folding out the towel and placing it on the sun lounger, sitting down on it and lounging out. connecting your phone to the bluetooth speaker outside, you decided to put on your relaxing mix, hoping it would help you get a small nap in before the repairman was here.

it was really hard to get one on such short notice, how your husband had been able to get one the same day baffled you, probably pulled some strings with one of his business buddies you thought. while you had good money in the bank, you despised how your husband would treat other people that weren’t in the same tax bracket as you both were. you were the more generous person in the relationship, giving to various charities when you could, even though it annoyed your husband to no end when you did. in a selfish way, you revealed in it, any subtle way you could piss him off without making it obvious that was your intention, you’d jump at the chance. giving money to those who needed it AND being able to make him angry - win win scenario.

you’d been sat in the back yard for around a hour, lightly snoring as you went in and out of a light sleep, you hadn’t heard the doorbell go the multiple times it had, being awoken when the wooden side gate hit the fence with a loud crash. “holy shit!” you shouted, pulling your sunglasses off your eyes to look towards the gate, seeing a man standing there with a large toolbox in his hand. “hey, didn’t mean to scare you doll. no one answered the doorbell and i saw the gate was unlocked so.” you got yourself up from the sun lounger, taking a couple steps towards the man so you could get a better look at him. damn he was fine, a tight white t-shirt with black cargo pants, covered in what looked like dust, white paint, other substances you could only assume he’d gotten from his line of work. a tattoo peeking out from underneath his sleeve, one on his forearm as well, steel-toe capped boots making slight clink noises as he moved on the concrete path underneath him, you thought he was too attractive to be a handyman, a ‘magic mike’ dancer sure, you give over everything in your bank account to see that little fantasy come to life. his hair slicked back and beard trimmed neatly, your eyes couldn’t help naturally scanning over his muscular, dominating frame.

“hi! you must be the handyman my husband ordered?” you asked, eyebrow raising as you put your hand out for a handshake. “well, i work for the same company, i’m Negan.” he introduced himself as he grasped your hand, meeting yours. his hand felt slightly calloused, a side effect from his job you gathered, you couldn’t deny how sexy they made you feel, being used to the smoothness of your husbands, it was a unlikely turn on. “oh right! i’m y/n. thank you for coming on such short notice, i’m absolutely sick of having cold showers, don’t know how much more i can take of it.” you joked, a small smile sat on your face. “i’ll show you where it is so you can get cracking, i bet there’s more things you’d rather be doing, so hopefully it won’t take too long.” you motioned for him to follow you, walking through the patio door.

Negan followed you into the house, unbeknownst to you, his eyes glued to your small bikini bottoms, showing off your ass in what could only be described as gorgeous. he knew it was wrong, looking at the bosses wife in such a way but he couldn’t help himself, becoming a recent single man again, he hadn’t had the time to get back into the dating scene which in turn meant he wasn’t getting any action and it was driving him nuts. he was only a man, when he’d got the call from your husband, he wasn’t expecting his wife to be home alone, dressed in a bikini, looking good enough to devour.

you got to the en suite bathroom, opening the door, showing him where the controls were. “here it is, i have no clue what’s wrong with it, it just won’t let any hot water through.” you stated, you’d never been good with stuff like this, your husband had always had people on call to fix problems around the house. “i’ll be fine doll, i’ve dealt with this problem loads of times before.” he waved it off with a laugh. “would you like anything to drink? to eat?” you questioned, putting on your best innocent smile. “i wouldn’t mind a coffee, doll but don’t make one on my account.” he beamed back at you, turning away to grab something from his toolbox, you took a look at his tight cargos as he bent down, they shaped the muscularity of his thighs perfectly, his ass looking perfect in them. “i’m sure i can rustle something up for you, how do you take it?” you asked, a slight smirk on your face from how you’d worded the question to him. “no milk, two sugars please. i like it sweet.” he bantered back, leaving you to saunter off to the kitchen.

you returned back to him, slightly boiling coffee in hand, placing it on the large counter where the sink and mirror were placed. “so, how long have you worked with my husband? i don’t think i’ve heard about you before?” you quizzed, knowing the names of your husbands many business partners and staff, you’d have remembered a unique name like Negan, you were sure. “ah not long, used to be a gym teacher before this job, needed a change and i’ve always been good with my hands.” you laughed, the image of Negan bossing around a load of pre teens making you smile. “i wouldn’t have pegged you as a gym teacher, to be honest with you!” he laughed right back at you, turning his head to look towards you. “yeah, a lot of people have told me that, i loved working with the little shits all day, gave them a run for their money, i can tell you that much.” he grimaced, realising what he’d done. “sorry doll, don’t mean to swear, pretty unprofessional of me.” you giggled again, shaking your head at him. “i don’t mind, stop worrying! it’s nice to be in the company of a man who doesn’t change himself to suit other people.” Negan took notice of that, wondering if you were talking about your husband. “well, that’s fucking me all over doll. so, what do you do?” you sighed, knowing how what you said next would come across. “housewife, i stay at home, look after the house and get taken to business dinners when i’m needed.” he noticed your drop in tone, he could sense that you weren’t really happy with that but he didn’t want to speak out of turn. “well your doing a bang up job, this place is immaculate.” you blushed, your husband had never complimented your hard work, always just expecting the house to be sorted, never thinking to thank you for your efforts. “thanks, it’s nice to hear that. i’ll let you get on, if you need anything, don’t hesitate to ask.”

it was about a hour later when Negan had finally finished the shower, it now letting out hot water again. “you are a angel, finally i can have a nice shower!” you exclaimed, hands clapping enthusiastically, Negan laughing at your actions. “absolutely no problem doll.” he smiled at you, trying to escape his thoughts of you taking said shower, the bubbles dripping down your body as you washed them away, how good you’d look naked. “so, stop me if you have somewhere to be but i just got finished making dinner, i forgot i was alone so there is more than enough if you wanted to stay for some?” you asked sheepishly, expecting him to decline, a young single man probably had better things to do on a friday night than sit in with a boring housewife for dinner. “i’d love that doll. let me just take my tools back to my truck.” you freaked out internally, you were excited to spend some more time with this devilishly charming man, he was a breath of fresh air compared to the people you had to hang around with when you were with your husband. always other couples that were all business talk, how many sales they’d made that year and how much they were getting for their bonuses, it became exhausting over time.

you plated up the chicken florentine, along with some vegetables and sauce, bring the plate from the counter to the dining room table, the dimmed lights almost highlighting your body, you’d changed into a pretty sundress while he’d gone out to the truck, deciding a bikini wasn’t proper dinner attire, not bothering with underwear, if your plan was to go your way. placing the plates on the table, you grabbed a bottle of wine from the vast array of choice from the wine cooler and glasses for you both. you took a seat just as Negan walked back through the door, his eyes rising up as he smelt the food from the table. “fuck me doll, that smells good!” he clapped his hands together as he sat down beside you, starting to eat. “i hope you like it, i didn’t know if you ate meat but…” you trailed off. “no i do, i’m not one of those vegan pussies, don’t worry.” you laughed, his vulgar language causing a stir from within you. you poured out a glass of wine for you each before tucking in yourself. “i’ve got to say, i’ve never had such hospitality from anyone before, i’m always called to clients houses but the most i’m offered is a drink and then they leave me alone to work, this is a nice change.” you smiled, hoping you hadn’t been too much in his hair, you just couldn’t stop yourself, you wanted to know more about the intriguing man. “well, i aim to please. hospitality gets drilled into you as a housewife, it’s sort of all i’m good for.” you said, taking a sip of your wine, feeling like you were softly venting a little due to feeling comfortable in Negan’s company. “i’m sure your good at other things doll, better than the shitheads i normally encounter in this job.”

“well i understand that, i’ve met my husband’s clientele and they aren’t my type of people. always boasting about themselves, not caring about others, i hate it really.” you confessed, knowing you were opening up to much to a man you didn’t really know but you felt at ease, like you could speak freely, unlike when you were in your husbands company. you and Negan had finished eating, you finished the last of your wine, taking your plates to the dishwasher, bending down to place them inside, not remembering you had no panties on, fully on show for Negan and he’d definitely noticed. he’d almost done a double take, seeing your pretty pussy on display, a grin widening on his face as he understood the message. he got up, walking towards you as you raised up again, going to put the cooking utensils in the dishwasher when his large hands wrapped around your waist, you turned to look at him.

“you know doll, i think i should thank you for such a lovely evening. don’t you?” you looked up at him through your eyelashes, your chest heaving up and down with deep breaths as your heart began to beat irregularly at the closeness of such a gorgeous man. “i don’t know… what did you have in mind?” you questioned, your arms coming to meet at the top of his neck, wrapping around to pull him closer as your faces were inches away from each other. “i think it would be fair payment to screw your pretty little brains out, right over this countertop.” you moaned out at his statement, his hand coming to tug at your hair softly, before yanking harder, testing the waters. “i think, you should put your money where your mouth is, Negan.”

he growled, backing you up to the countertop that was behind your back, slightly pushing you against it. he captured your lips in a heated kiss, his hand still pulling at your hair as you whimpered into the kiss, silently begging for his hard touch. no one had ever been so rough with you, husband included. “i know how much you’ve wanted this, don’t think i didn’t notice how you aren’t wearing any panties, you were planning for this, weren’t you doll?” he whispered against your lips, his other hand now going underneath your skirt, dancing on your thighs before he got to your wet heat. “i don’t just offer dinner to anyone that comes to the house, you know.” you whimpered out, feeling his finger tips on your clit, moving small circles on top of it. “i’m hungry for dessert now doll, open those pretty thighs for me sweetheart.” he lifted you up onto the counter, your legs sat on his shoulders as you lifted your dress up enough for your whole pussy on display for Negan. his tongue met your hot skin, licking a stripe up your core, starting slow. your hand came down to meet his hair, gripping tightly around the strands that had fallen loose from his slicked back style. you moaned out, not used to the feeling of having such a skilled man between your legs, savouring every movement you felt him make. so methodical and well thought.

he sucked on your clit harshly, you squeezing his head slightly as your thighs contorted together, trying desperately to grind yourself closer to his tongue, chasing the blissfully sinful feeling that was racing through your body. “fuck-fuck! Negan, i’m not- going to last much longer if you keep doing that! fuck!” you panted and whined at the impending arrival of your orgasm, he chuckled at your confession, pulling away from you to back up. “i want to feel you doll, i want to feel you clench around my dick, turn around for me.” he purred, letting your stumbling legs fall back onto the ground as you turned to face the counter, your nipples standing erected through the thin material of the dress, contrasting against the cold marble.

he dropped his cargo pants, letting them fall down to his ankles, his impressively large piece now hanging out, you felt the bulbous tip playing around on your entrance, running up and down your folds at Negan’s movements. he finally entered you, holding a tight grip on your hips, nails slightly digging into your soft flesh, letting your pussy stretch out to accommodate his girth. he pulls out, and slides back in with little to no hesitation, finding a happy pace between rough and soft. you moan out, one hand coming to wrap around your throat as he moved his pace to more rough. “fuck doll, you fit me so well- taking me so good baby.” you whined out again. “please, please! harder! i need you, Negan- fuck!” he grinned at your begging, leaving your lips like a pretty song. he obliged, upping the ante to absolutely rock you.

“RING! RING!”

you gasped, pulling your head up from the counter to see the light illuminating from the landline phone situated near the window, your husbands name on the caller id.

“fuck, fuck! stop i need to answer him!” you tried to manoeuvre your body to grab the phone that was finger tips away from you, pushing your body closer before negan reached out over you to grab it.

“better answer it before he gets suspicious dollface.” he clicked the green button, passing it down to you, your face bright red with nervousness.

“hey-hey honey.” you breathed out, finding it hard not to make pleasurable sounds while Negan was still fucking you rough, you could barely talk with his hand still grasped around your throat. he showed no mercy.

“i just got to my hotel, did Negan manage to fix the shower?” your husband asked, you allowed a small grin to peak out on your face, thanking god your husband couldn’t see you right now. “yeah, he did a really good job, such a nice guy!” you drabbled on, hoping he wouldn’t ask many more questions, fearing you couldn’t stay quiet for much longer. “that’s great, so i’m going to try and get some sleep before the big meeting tomorrow. just wanted to let you know i got here okay. i love you.” he said, you almost dropped the phone from how rough your stomach was hitting the side of the counter, Negan relishing in the predicament you’d found yourself in. “ok-okay honey. i love you t-too.” you gasped as Negan proceeded to smack your ass hard, the sting catching you off guard, making it harder to find your words for your husband. “are you okay? you don’t sound too well?” you rolled your eyes into the back of your head, wishing he’d just fuck off so you didn’t have the anxiety of having to string sentences together. “yeah i’m fine, think i’m just a bit ill. i’ll l-let you get some sleep. love you. bye.” you quickly got out, pressing the red end call button, slinging the phone off the counter, the object hitting the ground with a smack. “you are such a bastard.” you slightly laughed with another moan. “didn’t want him worrying about his dear wife now did we doll? thank you for the five star review though, i appreciate it.”

the wet sounds still echoed around the room, you could feel yourself getting ever so closer to what you knew would be a world shattering climax. “fuck, i’m so so close, please! fuck!” Negan held you firmer in place, his hips snapping against your behind, his dick filling you up to the brim. “let go doll, come all over my dick.” that was all the permission you needed, you let yourself climax, sobbing in pleasure, waves of pleasure rippling through you, nearly too intense for your body to handle it. you cried out his name, your fingernails digging into your own palms as you circled your hips, riding out your orgasm.

Negan wasn’t too far behind, he couldn’t help but spill inside you, quickly pulling out to finish the rest on your now red glistening ass, from the countless spankings he’d given you. you both almost collapsed, breathless, unable to get your heart rates back to normal for the time being. Negan held you to his chest, your back meeting his torso in a warm embrace, chests heaving. you felt the sticky ropes of his seed on your dress, making it stick to your ass as you licked your lips to regain some moisture back as they’d gone dry from all your moaning and whining. his hands ran up and down your body, coming to play with your breasts over the material.

“fuck doll, do you have any more repairs for me to do? because i would gladly fix every goddamn thing in this house for this again.” you laughed, turning around to look at him, face beat red from the strenuous actions you’d both participated in. you reached behind him and pulled open one of the cabinets behind his head, the wood snapping with the force, taking it off its hinges so it hung off.

“whoops. you might need to take a look at that.”

#twd negan #negan x oc #negan the walking dead #negan x reader #negan x you #negan smut #negan #negan imagine #negan x y/n #negan twd #negan's thirst squad #negan fanfiction #the walking dead negan #negan smut week #handyman!negan #negan smith #the walking dead imagines #the walking dead imagine #the walking dead fanfiction #twd blog #twd fanfiction #twd smut #twd imagines #twd au #twd imagine #twd negan imagine #twd negan fanfic #twd fanfic #negan jdm #jdm negan

[ineffable-gallimaufry]

jonmartin headcanons:

- i like to think that they both get cold real easy (for jon it's just normal reasons, for martin it's lonely reasons) so they have a million sweaters. and they cuddle a lot. jon used to refuse to bundle up because it didn't fit with how he wanted to be perceived but eventually he gives in and dresses warm

- jon is the "kill the spider with fire!!" guy and meanwhile martin is befriending the spider and trying to have a tea party. eventually someone else has to take care of it.

- jon's favorite teas are english breakfast, earl grey, and chai whereas martin's favorites are lemon ginger, jasmine, cinnamon, and chamomile. i just think jon's the kind of guy who drinks black teas + martin seems like more of an herbal tea guy.

- martin has a bit of a green thumb and really likes growing flowers for jon and other people in his life; jon likes knitting/tatting/embroidery so usually martin will be out in the garden and jon will sit on the patio and work on something

- both of them really like cooking together, even if they're not the best chefs, they still make good food when they get to make food together

- like. they record so much stuff. they're always making adorable videos of stuff, jon has a little video camera he keeps on him, and he also keeps a polaroid on him.

- both just have the worst nightmares but the other is always there to comfort them with a warm mug of tea + a blanket. martin mostly has nightmares about everyone leaving him whereas jon has nightmares about. well, anything and everything

- jon loves weighted blankets & compression gloves so much; martin isn't as big a fan (the compression makes him kind of claustrophobic) and prefers stress balls/squishies more. he does really like weighted stuffed animals though, especially when he can warm them up.

and yeah! i am not all the way caught up so i might add to this but. i think they're fun

#tma #tma podcast #the magnus archives #jonmartin #tma jmart #jonathan sims #martin blackwood

[shadowxamyweek]

(ShadowxAmy Choose-Your-Adventure Pt 8)

The anger dies in his chest as soon as he steps through her doorway. Shadow swallows the ashes, lets it curl in his chest as he sighs. No, no he can’t ruin the sunshine on her face. He’ll tell her what has transpired later.

Gentle. Easy.

He hopes he can pull this off.

“What are you baking?”

Amy looks away as she brushes her bangs out of her face and closes the apartment door. “Oh, uh, just trying something different. Lavender scones.”

His face must have done something, because Amy laughs.

“Yeah, I know.” She shrugs as she walks back towards the kitchen. “But uh, um… I’m- I’m making them for someone’s birthday, and they like lavender, so uh, I thought- I don’t know…”

“I’m sure they’ll be fine.” Shadow looks out the window, squinting at the patio garden Amy has set up.

“You think?”

He nods. He can’t see the tomatoes from here. They must be against the wall.

“Would you try one?”

Shadow blinks, turning to face Amy. She’s watching him as she chewed her lip, clasping her hands behind her as she bounces one foot.

“I don’t- I don’t know if they taste good. I mean-” Amy shakes her head, hands moving to hover on either side of her face. “I mean they taste okay, flowery. Flower, not- not flour. I mean- augh. I don’t know what they’re supposed to taste like is what I’m trying to say.”

Shadow can’t help the way his head twitches to the side, cocking at an angle. Amy sighs.

“Will you try one, yes or no.”

“Yes.” Shadow nods.

He assumed she’d know he would. It’s not like he can say no to her, not when she lights up as she does now, hands clapping before she darts away to the stove.

Shadow looks about the living room, taking in the scattered mugs and magazines. There’s a bag of sunflower seeds sitting next to an open page of a notebook. It’s covered in shells, obviously what she had been in the middle of reading, and as Shadow leans in, he squints to decipher her handwriting.

‘Lavender: Mint Family: Uses- Love/Protection/Sleep/Happiness/Peace/Longevity/Purification. Language of Flowers has it as BOTH Devotion/Mistrust. BE CAREFUL OF MIXES. BE SPECIFIC.’

“Oh, that’s just my little black book.” Amy says as she enters the room again with a stacked plate of scones the size of a small fist, as well as a set of spoons and two jars. The plate is set atop the table, and Amy swipes the notebook out from underneath. “I was just brushing up. You can take a seat you know.”

Shadow looks about, unmoving. It’s not until Amy comes around the table and sits down on the couch that he sits down next to her.

SHADAMYWEEK 2023 THEME VOTING IS LIVE! PLEASE CHECK THIS LINK TO BE TAKEN TO A LIST OF ALL ACTIVE POLLS! VOTING WILL END ON MONDAY THE 15TH.

#amy rose #shadow the hedgehog #shadamy #shadamy story poll #8 #shadowxamy

[beezonia]

A past better left forgotten

A little miraculous mons drabble

No warnings but mentions of death.

Nathalie wakes up with a pounding in her head most days. She doesn’t know why.

Ori always ends up perched on one of the bedposts, checking on her heavy breathing to make sure her trainer isn’t dying.

Maybe it’s just that she’s sick, or that she’s slowly going insane after years and years of running from her problems.

Nathalie still doesn’t know, logic isn’t helping her after all these years of using it.

It’s sort of painful.

At least she could get comfortable being back in the spotlight soon, get back to how life used to be.

Although, after everything that’s happened.

Nathalie doesn’t believe things can go back to the way they were.

———-

Jade sits there on her yoga mat, the Persian looks like she’s snoozing. The blue gem on her forehead glinting in the early rays of light.

Well that was one distraction she couldn’t use. It was time to think of something different.

Ori chirps as if she’s trying to point her in the right direction, her beak stretching out to the small garden Nathalie has managed to take care of.

It’s where she’s more likely to find the steel duo, Darack (her skarmory) and Tiny (her Aggron and yes, the irony was not lost on her)

So the champion lets her feet drag along the tiles of the patio, smiling when she sees Darcak perk his head up at the noise.

The bird instantly lunges himself towards her and Ori, the woman has to sidestep to make sure she doesn’t get the brunt of the collision.

She’s sure the Skarmory has scared the absolute shit out of Ori, so much so the smaller bird ended up in the trees!

“Hey you, what were you looking at?”

Nathalie crouches so she can pet Darack’s head, he chirps turning his beak upwards as of to say he was admiring the sky.

It was a pretty sky, the pinks and oranges slowly merging into blue to make way for the day.

“I’ll have to send Vincent a picture, Arty would love it.”

She’s talking about her best friend and his smeargle, the pokèmon always loved staring up at the sky.

To bad Nathalie didn’t have anyone to share it with, apart from her pokèmon her role meant most people were just going to use her for fame.

It’s sad, but true. It reminds her of a past she’d rather forget.

A past that seems to want to haunt her too.

Hades had only become part of her team about a year ago. The Dusknoir had appeared on her doorstep one from afternoon and it wouldn’t leave till she let him in.

Persistent much like someone else she knew.

God how Nathalie hates reminding herself of the blonde, nothing good ever came from it. Even if that smile still made her swoon, even if she felt her heartbeat gain pace just staring into those emerald eyes.

No, the Kalos Champion would not falter. She would not let herself fall back into those old habits.

She was about to show the region just what she was made of.

Even if it was just all a facade to get through the long days she had ahead of her.

Even if she found it hard to progress each day. Nathalie would keep moving forward.

Hope you like this guys!

Wanted to explore a bit of Nathalie’s bonds with her pokèmon and more so what she thinks in her head most of the time!

Thanks for reading!

#miraculous mons au #miraculous #miraculous ladybug #miraculous au #miraculous ladybug au #nathalie sancoeur

[pinkiepiebones]

if it’s ok can I request gardener renfield opening up a greenhouse :-)

Years after the death of Dracula, Robert Montague Renfield buys his first home. Well, technically it's his second home, but the first one was purchased well over a hundred years ago and for all he knows might have been knocked down and paved over to create a new by-pass.

Anyway.

Robert's settled in New Orleans, because it is where Dracula was dismembered and mixed with concrete and dumped into the sewer system and he'd like to keep an eye out for any vampiric shenanigans that may arise, but also because he's just tired of moving. He sells most of the objects d'art he's been lugging around the past century. He puts some in a storage unit though, out of a sour mix of nostalgia and dread- the stuffed raven, the stuffed albino fox, a few paintings, some bolts of fabric. The coffin.

"Dude, someone would pay millions for that coffin," his best friend Rebecca Quincy asserted the day Robert wheeled it out of the rented U-Haul and into storage. "There's some weird old rich guy out there who would totally want it. You don't have to keep it."

Robert swiped his arm across his brow. "Who'd buy this thing? Honestly? It's a lead box lined with the fur of some extinct animal. Give me a name."

Rebecca thought a moment. "Nicholas Cage?"

"Hasn't he already got a pyramid tomb?"

"Oh yeah... Well maybe he'd use Dracula's coffin as a coffee table or somethin'."

Robert shook his head. "Even if I had a way to contact Mister Cage, I doubt even someone of his, ah, eccentricity would want this." Robert shoved the coffin into the darkest corner of the storage unit. "No, it'll do just fine tucked back here."

Robert's new home is small-but bigger than his apartment with two bedrooms, one and a half bathrooms, and a full acre of yard space- and what the home renovation shows would call a "fixer upper" with "good bones." It makes him happy to work on it. He listens to music and the occasional psychology podcast as he polishes the original wood floors or paints the walls or rewires the light switches. It's therapeutic- he's gone from caring for a monster to caring for himself, and he has found that he enjoys making things bright.

The yard is a paradise for Robert. In the front yard he sticks a couple of those cheery plastic flamingoes he'd wanted for decades and puts in a white picket fence. He gives his home what the home renovation shows would call "great curb appeal." Perhaps superstitiously now, Robert makes sure to not buy a "welcome" mat, and he plants wolfsbane just inside the fence's perimeter. In his head he plays a very old memory of Doctor Van Helsing waving the wolfsbane in his face. It turned out that the man had been right- Dracula fucking hated this stuff.

His backyard is the bigger of the two yards and he decides quite early on he wants a greenhouse. Rebecca helps him build it (mostly because he promises to take her out somewhere nice for dinner, but also because she's his friend and she loves how happy he is). It's small, maybe a bit bigger than two tool sheds, but the inside walls have sturdy, wide shelves where he can start seeds, there's a toolbox with drawers for labels and waterproof markers and seed packets. Bags of soil and watering cans are carefully tucked under the shelves and garden spades varying in length hang from a little cork board propped up against a wall. Robert even refurbished an old battery powered radio and has it set to a station playing classical music, since that seems to be what plants like the most. There's fresh white gravel making up the floor and a thermometer hangs from a string of fairy lights tacked to the wooden frame of the glass door. Plans for a garden are scribbled on a pad of paper beside the toolbox.

Robert and Rebecca are on his little patio one evening, sitting in refurbished mid-century lawn chairs and drinking fizzy alcoholic drinks. Rebecca gestures to the greenhouse. "That turned out pretty good, didn't it?"

Robert nods.

"You ever think about scaling it up?"

"What do you mean?"

Rebecca sets her drink down to gesticulate as she talks. "I mean, you still own the hospital, right? If you pay someone to demolish the building, that'd be a great place to build a greenhouse that people could come buy stuff from." She picks up her drink and sips. "You could even have classes, y'know, on proper plant care. People would love that shit."

Robert smiles. "I guess I never really thought about it. Might feel good to share what I do," he pauses to take a drink, "especially now that what I do isn't, you know, terrible."

Rebecca chuckles.

#renfield #hope this is okay anon #I can't write endings!

[wikiangela]

After reading you temptation Tuesday I need to know more about your buddie sims

omg anon I'm soooo happy you asked 😂 bc lately buddie and ts4 are my obsession lol - warning: this might get long haha

so, first of all, this is their house - Eddie's house - that took me like 5 hours fr, and I'm not good at building but I'm kinda happy with it ngl haha (his house is so inconsistent in the show fr, and he has a desk in the kitchen, and I never noticed the red armchair in the living room😂) - if anyone wants, I can show you each room in more detail haha

I also gave them a patio in the back, and a little garden for Buck bc I had just read a fic with Buck owning a plant nursery and it fits so well lol - and it's gonna get renovated a bit soon bc they're expecting a baby through surrogacy (btw pls give me names for a Buckley-Diaz baby haha)

and this is what they look like (I'm lowkey happy with how Buck and Chris turned out tho I'm so mad that the crutches cc I found isn't working, and I can't find good tattoos for Buck lol - but Eddie looks like any generic sim but whatever haha)

also, obvi they're both firefighters, Buck has adhd, Eddie might take up knitting just because, and Chris is doing amazing at school and is about to become a teen wtf haha (also, they're both his dads, like in the family tree, they were both his dads before they even got together bc I wanted to see if it's possible)

they also have a cat and Eddie will be a reluctant cat dad just like he was a reluctant dog dad in my fic haha

and idk if anyone cares, but the thing I said in the temptation tuesday wasn't even all that happened on that date, it was ridiculous, and I'll add this under the cut bc this is getting long lmao

so, for context: I have wicked whims and mortem (realistic death)

I scheduled their wedding for saturday at noon, but the day before it was love day, so I figured they'd go on a date to a restaurant - and in the sims it takes so fucking long lol

so they were waiting for their food and talking, and bc I have wicked whims and they're like obsessed with each other, even in my game lol, Buck kept autonomously asking Eddie for sex, sooo many times, and I kept clicking no, bc they can do it after they get home haha

but then after they were done eating and were ready to go home, I couldn't leave, bc someone died - now, I forgot I had the mortem mod, bc I just got it and hadn't used it yet, so I figured, the grim will come and it'll be over soon, and in the meantime I finally agreed to let them fuck (they went to the coatroom, with an archway instead of a door so they were perfectly visible, and Buck blew Eddie - btw, their first time was completely autonomous too and they did it in Eddie's closet wtf😂😂)

and then the dead lady was still on the floor, and I remembered about the mod, and I guess someone called the coroner and I had to wait for them to come - so Buck and Eddie joined all the people gathered around the body, and istg (i hate that I didn't get a screenshot lol) every single sim had a thought bubble with Buck's face and cum, bc he just blew Eddie and had cum on his face 😂

and after the coroner came and declared the death or whatever, she asked Buck of all people to take care of the funeral 😂😂 I said no, obvi, and soon they were able to go home and get married 😂

mods make the game sooo ridiculous lmao

I actually haven't played with buddie in a while, I need to get back to them haha

#anon thank you so much for this ask! #if anyone wants to know more pls lmk i'm sooo happy to talk about this haha #also I got some new packs since I made this so I might change some things soon haha #buddie #the sims 4 #wikiangela answers #anon ask #asks #buddie sims #sims anon

[majesticwren]

due to high demand - me. I'm high demand. this entire project is being written entirely for my pleasure, be warned I'm being extremely self-indulgent - I've decided to write a little prequel to the events that take place here. this is set in 2018 and is the beginning of Fletch x OFC. billy will have his own little prequel at some point. enjoy.

Trigger Warning/s: OFC is her own trigger warning she is damaged goods and slightly toxic and emotionally unavailable, mention of addiction, mention of heroin abuse, mention of sex, mention of trauma, angst, mainly friends to lovers/impossible relationship dynamics.

nuclear season: part I -> | part II -> | part III -> prequel: <- part I | <- part II | part IV -> Masterlist

Beginning of April 2018

Erika sat on the porch swing, comfortably curled on herself. She was slowly rocking herself, naked foot pressed on the wooden patio floor, as she enjoyed the sundown of that exceptionally hot evening. She sipped on the cup of homemade peach iced tea she was so proud she made, deciding to accept that as something small to be grateful for today.

She was melancholically watching some of the neighbour’s kids playing on their familiar street. Their excited little voices, breaking through the evening, mixed with the noises of the place she called home. It was music for her soul. Something that resonated through her, always reminding her where she came from. She didn’t need to like Brisbane, to always have her inside compass pointing to it.

Her gaze cruised over the street cutting across the residential uptown area she grew up in. She could see herself, as clear as day, wearing her new pink helmet, on her birthday, learning to go on her little pink bike as Mark taught her how to ride all afternoon. And then again, when she was just a little over twelve, he did the same teaching her some skating tricks. She remembered how they used to walk over that road together every morning and every evening, as he was used to getting her to and from the bus stop to go to school or practice. Later, years later, she could still see them two sitting side by side just outside their garden, on the pavement. Erika had touched her first rock bottom and had asked him for help.

“You look so sad, honey,”

Erika huffed softly, moving her attention to her mother, who looked over her from the other side of the porch. She was still wearing her straw hat and was holding an old empty flower pot, in her cute gardening outfit.

“I am ok,” Erika tried to reassure her, offering a small smile, stretching on the swing. “I promise.”

The woman softly chuckled, putting the vase down and removing her gloves, walking to her, “What mother would I be if I believed you when you have a broken heart?”

Erika simply smiled, making space for the woman as she sat next to her.

For years, Erika had convinced herself to resent her mother for the flat life she thought the woman had. The life many would consider a good life. Housewife, happily married to a good man, carrying a family, caring for the house and herself. And Erika, especially in her teenage years, hated her for it. Considered her stupid and much worse things.

She was a sweet woman. A good woman. A good mother. And Erika still had to find the courage to apologise for how difficult she had been and how rocky she made their relationship. Not that her mother ever expected her to. That woman still loved her, Erika was her child and she never missed an opportunity to remind her. Though it was stronger than her, Erika felt more awkward than anything else around her.

It was shame. It was inadequacy. It was everything she regretted, knowing her mother was one of the many victims she had taken down in her path of destruction over the years.

“Mum,” Erika sighed, looking away. “Please, I am fine.”

“Mh,” Erika felt the woman looking at her with the wisdom of someone who just knew better, “Mark called. Again.”

Erika flinched.

Her chest was still broken. It was undeniable. Her heart was in a thousand pieces. Thinking about her brother hurt her too much. It was still such a sore, open wound. The longer she spent apart, the more it felt as if she was missing part of her.

After what happened, Erika left. She left the job at RevPro and she left England for good, not saying a word. Not leaving a message. She changed her phone, her number, everything and tried to continue with her life.

The only thing she dared to do, breaking her own rule to become a ghost, was to steal one of Kyle's t-shirts. Just because she wanted to have something that smelled like him. It didn’t carry his scent anymore, now, but she still kept it safe under her pillow and slept hugging it or wearing it.

When she disappeared without leaving a trace, she knew Mark lost his mind about it. Especially in the first forty-eight hours she spent flying over to Australia. But she wasn’t interested in his concern. When she landed and surprised her parents, she didn't care whether or not they had let Mark know. It wasn’t her responsibility to make him feel better.

She hadn’t talked to him in a couple of weeks. And she had no intention of doing so. Not yet. She wasn’t ready.

There was so much she needed to fix before she even decided to consider forgiveness. But, like it or not, he was always there with her. She’d see him around the house and in all the familiar places they grew up together. And he’d still be her voice of reason, even despite the terrible things he had said the last time they spoke.

Her anger had calmed by now, leaving behind only pain. Pain, she had to learn to deal with. It wasn’t something she had done before. Before, she would have tried to do anything to numb it, cancel it, erasing herself in the process. Even this time, as soon as she landed back home, she went close to embarking on yet another self-destructive trip. She was there. She almost went to see her old friend who’d always have a fresh fix for her. But this time, differently from ever before, Erika understood consequences and she just knew she would have seen the end of it either in a hospital or six feet under.

So, she was learning to deal with her emotions being clean. She was learning to become her own person, doing a lot of healing and mending in the process. And it was the hardest thing she had ever done in her life. However, there was no other way forward. She needed to fix herself to fix it all.

She was still mad at Mark, and she would have been mad for a long time. But he wasn’t the only one she was upset at. She was angry at herself for proving him right. For doubting her own choices and abilities. And for having caused pain to the only person she was supposed to love. And she had no intention to let self-doubt ever bring her that close to ruin her life again.

“I don’t care,” she finally replied, shaking her head. “I don’t want to know.”

“He is so worried for you, honey. You-”

“Mum,” Erika snapped in a gentle warning, looking over to the woman by her side, “Please, leave it alone. Please. You don’t know what happened and you can’t understand it. I am not ready.”

“Then tell me what happened, sweetheart. Help me understand,”

Erika's chuckle was dry, maybe even cruel, even though she didn’t mean it to be. “You can’t understand,” she simply said, shrugging. “Ask your son to tell you what he did.”

“I did.”

“And?”

“He cut me off.”

“See?” Erika chuckled, shaking her head. “Leave it alone, mum. It’s ugly and it’s between us.”

“I can’t stand having my two children not talking. You were so close. It was my only joy,”

Erika had to bite her tongue and think twice before abruptly replying. “No,” she gently placed a hand on her mother’s. “Mum, it’s not that I don’t want to tell you for kicks. I won’t tell you what happened because I can’t have the responsibility to put you in a position to reconsider your son’s worth or choose sides or whatever.”

“After everything you have done, I still consider you so highly, my child, do you think what he did is worse than that?”

Erika took no offence to her mother’s honesty. She wasn’t wrong, after all. “To me it is,” she simply replied, “It is a matter between me and Mark, and we are both adults, we’ll figure it out, one day. He’s still my brother.”

Her mother cupped her face in one hand, making her look at her. The two looked into each other’s eyes for a long moment, as the older woman smiled softly at her. “I am proud of the woman you are becoming. I am sorry it is all so painful to you.”

“I’ll be fine, mum. Thank you,” Erika squeezed her hand.

End of April 2018.

“Mum?” Erika called as she entered her childhood home. “Can I have a hand?” She wondered, balancing herself as she carried as many bags of groceries under her arms as she possibly could. “The car is packed full. I’ll help you put it all away, I promise,” she still chirped moving through the still big house, receiving only silence in response.

As Erika moved to the kitchen, she finally began to hear two low voices chatting from the back porch. One was her mother, who now was chuckling the other Erika couldn’t recognise. In the background, she heard the noise of the lawn mower too, but it was far enough she wasn’t sure if it came from her garden or the neighbours’.

She left the grocery bags on the counter and popped her head out the door, looking for the two women with a certain urgency and curiosity. They were both comfortably sitting on the two garden chairs on the deck. Both wore sundresses, facing the pretty garden her mum was so proud of, sipping on fresh lemonade. They both watched closely the young-looking gardener working at the end of their lawn, cutting the grass.

“Hey,” Erika began, quickly losing interest in the view the other two seemed to be so lost in. She didn’t even want to think about it too much. “Was looking for you,” she hinted to her mum, “been talking to myself a while.”

“Hello honey,” her mother chuckled, “I’m sorry, couldn’t hear you from out here.”

“Is this her?” The other woman wondered, looking at her mother first and then back at her. She studied Erika with such interest she felt the need to shy away.

“Yes,” her mother too looked up at her with certain pride in her eyes. “She is so pretty, isn’t she?”

The second woman smiled, nodding silently. “Pardon me, sweety, you are probably wondering what kind of rude manners I must have, I am Pamela, and I live a few doors down, pleased to meet you,”

It was beyond Erika. The way the woman spoke, sitting in her lovely yellow dress, with her legs elegantly crossed and her glass of lemonade at hand made her think about a sophisticated housewife from the sixties. She still smiled politely, trying to mirror the approach that the woman was showing her. “Nice to meet you too, I am Erika, but you must know that already. You must be a friend of my mum’s?”

“Yes!” The woman and her mother exchanged a little look, giggling to themselves. “We met at Pilates only last year!”

“Can you believe women our age are still making friends like teenagers?” Her mother giggled, sipping on her lemonade, all pleased with herself.

“As soon as you two don’t go create a Burn Book for the neighbourhood, I think we are safe,” Erika chuckled with them, doing her best to indulge her mother and her small joys.

“She is a beautiful young woman and a funny one too? Jackpot.” Pamela giggled, clinking her glass with her mothers in a silent cheer.

“I told you. My daughter is a catch,”

“Must have boys coming for her left and right.”

“Oh,” her mother chuckled again, “You don’t know the beginning of it.”

For a moment Erika felt like they forgot she was standing there, even though both women still studied her like a prized pony or something.

Pamela giggled, nodding. “It doesn’t surprise me,” she then turned over to Erika, rosy cheeks and the largest smile she had ever seen before, “you know? I have a son.” The woman hinted to the boy in the garden with pride, “He’s really nice. Kind, handsome and very smart.”

As any son is to any mother. Erika thought it but didn’t dare to say it. She now understood so many things and started to suspect the two women’s words in an entirely different light. Instead of saying what she truly wanted to say, which was that she didn’t need her mother to fix her up, she smiled politely, gently shaking her head. “I am sure he is, ma’am, don’t doubt it for one second.”

“Ah,” Pamela's smile only grew as she and her mother exchanged a complicit look Erika didn’t like. “You’d like him. Your mum tells me you are single. See, my son is single too. We thought that it would have been nice to introduce the two of you.”

Erika had to bite her tongue hard. Their idea of introductions was to have said boy on parade, cutting the grass shirtless, of course. “How thoughtful of you,” this time Erika only pretended to be polite but wasn’t doing much to hide her slight irritation. “But I am not looking for-”

“Oh, God, honey, of course not! Who do you think we are?” Her mother jumped over her words, gasping, as if Erika was the one who misunderstood the situation. “I only thought you just moved back and don’t have many friends. Then I met Pamela, and one thing led to another, we thought maybe you two could hang out like kids do?”

Erika may not like her mother’s behaviour sometimes, but she still pulled out an amused smile, looking at her trying to find a way to justify herself and digging herself a deeper grave. It was somewhat funny though.

“Yes!” Pamela innocently agreed, “Who knows where things lead, I say.”

She cleared her voice, trying to ignore their silly behaviour, justifying it as the ways mums went about their kids sometimes. “Anyways. Sorry to interrupt, ladies, but mum, if you could give me a hand with the groceries that would be lovely.”

“Oh! Trevor can help you with that,” her mother chirped.

Pamela immediately followed, nodding eagerly. “Yes! What a nice idea,” she was up in a second and, even before Erika had the time to catch a breath and ask questions, she already hopped in the garden, waving at the guy handling the lawn mower.

“Mum?” Erika wondered suspiciously, “What’s going on?”

“What do you mean?”

“Why do I feel like this is going to be a set-up?”

“Don’t be silly, dear,” her mum giggled some more. Erika started suspecting the lemonade could have some gin in it. “This is just one of those friendly neighbours’ moments. Pamela’s son so kindly offered to help out with the lawn since your father is always busy with work and,”

“And I am getting introduced,”

“Well, yes, we thought you needed a friend.”

Erika rolled her eyes, still smiling. “Who’s conveniently a shirtless guy cutting your grass, mum?”

“Well, it is about thirty degrees out there. God knows how hot the poor thing is under the sun.”

Before she could reply anything, Pamela was back and her son trailed her. He too, looked somewhat feeling as awkward as she did. At least they could both agree their mothers were being embarrassing.

“So,” Pamela began, pushing her son forward, “This is Trevor.”

He was still catching his breath, as he offered Erika a smile. “Hi, how do you do?” He threw her a hand that she felt obliged to accept.

He was her age, maybe just a little older. He was attractive, that was undeniable. Quite tall and fit too. But Erika looked at him with the same interest she’d have for a lamp post. It wasn’t because she was rude. It was simply because it did nothing to catch her interest.

“Hi, I’m Erika. But I am sure my mother already said that, didn’t she?”

“She did,” he nodded, “they are terrible sometimes, aren’t they?” He wondered, catching the first opportunity possible to give her a complicit look.

This time it was their turn to talk about their mothers like they weren’t standing there.

Erika smiled. Only for that, she was warming up to him. “Yes. Did they convince you to do this?”

“Well, I was allured in with the request of cutting some grass and the promise of some lemonade,”

“Ah,” Erika shook her head, chuckling, “I think your payment is a hot date.”

He hissed, only pretending to be annoyed. “That won’t do. I rather the lemonade.”

They both turned to their mothers, finding both women looking at them with the utmost pride as if they had just won a prize or something. Erika felt like they didn’t catch on to their humour.

Pamela leaned into her mother with a proud smile. “See? What did I tell you?”

Erika huffed and then decided to do the only sensible thing and turned to Trevor, “So, are you helping me with the grocery? It won’t put itself away and I’ve got places to be after.”

“Sure thing,” he chirped willingly, “anything to get away from my mother trying to find me a girlfriend.” The look he sent his mum was pure banter.

Erika wondered if he truly was unaware, or if he was simply trying to charm her into a plan, he was well aware of. Either way, she didn’t care too much.

They unloaded the car as quickly as possible. Erika had no time to lose. Especially if it was to linger and mingle with a shirtless, sweaty, guy placed in her house only for her to look at him.

She grabbed the last two bags and, before she could instruct Trevor to just shut the door, he already leaned in to grab the heavy bag containing all her camera equipment. It’s been left in the car since she came back to Australia. It was the only thing she hadn’t unpacked yet. And she pretended, lying to herself, that it was simply too heavy to carry upstairs.

“No. That, leave it there, please.”

“What is it?”

“None of your business,” she snapped before she could even realise how uncalled it was. Erika immediately regretted it and rolled her eyes, looking back at Trevor. “I am sorry. That wasn’t nice to say. It’s my camera, I am a photographer.”

“You are?”

“Yes. Good at it too. But I haven’t worked in a while now,” she cleared her voice, shaking her head “It’s complicated to explain but I just don’t want to have it in the house.”

“You kidding?”

“No.”

Trevor looked down at the black back he carried, “It might get ruined left in the car under the sun all day, you know?”

“Yes. I am aware,” she huffed, feeling cornered. “Fine. Bring it into the house. Leave it by the stairs, please.”

“Yes ma’am,” he chirped and followed her without saying a word as they returned to the house. “So, how is it you haven’t worked in a while?”

“My field of expertise is very specific,” Erika explained, knowing how lame that excuse was. She could have done anything. The problem was she hadn’t picked her camera up in weeks. Not once.

“And what’s that? Wildlife?”

“No,” she chuckled, “I wish. It’s actually pro wrestling.”

“You shit me!?”

“No.” Erika frowned. “I moved to England some time ago to follow my brother and worked for one of the biggest companies in the UK.”

“Your brother is a wrestler?”

“See?” Erika chuckled, “My mother thought to introduce me and left out all the juicy details. He is,” she then explained, a smile crossing her lips, “he loves it. Always loved it. So, now, that’s what he does.”

“Who’s he? Is it possible I’ve heard of him?”

“It’s possible you know him since he lived around here up to a few months ago. Mark Davis?” She dropped, not hiding the pride she felt for her brother even despite everything.

“Fuck me, Davis!? You are Erika Davis?”

“In the flesh,” Erika smiled, nodding, “guess the neighbourhood is a big place after all.”

“Nah, yeah, it is. I went to school with your brother. Not the same year. He was a senior when I started. Didn’t know Mark or anything but he was known in school.”

“Yep,” Erika sighed, shaking her head, “and no one ever let me forget that.”

“So, he’s a wrestler now, uh? That’s crazy. Is he making a name for himself or something?”

“He is trying, yes. He’s working with the UK's biggest pro wrestling company and doing some indie stuff on the side. He’s in a tag team called Aussie Open with another Australian wrestler.” She didn’t say his name on purpose. Her tongue was tied.

“Wow! I still can’t believe that.”

“I know. So, are you a wrestling fan?”

“Well, not so much, no. I grew up watching it like everyone else through the Attitude Era but then I grew out of it.”

“Oh,” she shrugged, “shame, I find wrestling extremely underrated.”

“Yeah,” he paused, looking at her closely, “so, you said you are a photographer for this stuff?”

“Yes. I get booked to events and my job is capturing every second of the show, making the boys look as good as possible as they do their thing. It is mostly for advertisement.”

“What’s the schedule of a job like that?”

“Busy. I used to work almost every day in different venues every time so it’s a lot of travelling and living in hotels. Usually, I’d follow Mark and get booked to his same shows.”

“Sounds hard.”

“Yeah. Not everyone’s cup of tea, but I liked it. It’s part of the business. You travel around and after a while, it becomes the same people and the same places you see so you get used to it.”

“How the hell did you end up back here?”

“Well,” Erika busied herself putting away some stuff in the cupboards. “That’s a long story for another time, perhaps.”

“A’right,” Trevor hung by the kitchen counter, passing her stuff, “consider me curious, though.”

“The short version is that I fucked my brother’s best friend. It ended up badly.” Erika didn’t even look behind her back to see Trevor’s reaction. She didn’t care. And things didn’t exactly go that way. But there was part of her that wanted to clarify the fact that she may look like a good girl and her mother may have presented her as a good girl, but she was far from it.

“Ok? That doesn’t necessarily justify leaving a career behind, does it?”

Erika rolled her eyes and turned to face him, shameless. “It does when said boy I fucked was my roommate and coworker. He’s the other half of Aussie Open. So, I had to take myself out of the equation.”

“Right,” Trevor was avoiding eye contact, slightly intimidated by her honesty. “There’s wrestling in Australia though, right?”

“Yes. But doing weddings and whatnot is a much easier gig to get back into.” Which was a fat lie. She had good expertise and the references to back her up, if she needed, to land a job in any of the Australian companies. But she didn’t want to. She needed to stay away from wrestling.

“Is that what you want to do?”

Erika just looked at him for a long moment, before taking a step back, deciding to rummage in another grocery bag and hide herself in the fridge as she put away some more stuff. “What is this? A job interview or something?”

“Sorry, no. I was just trying to know you better.”

“Well, I don’t want that,” she simply explained, shrugging. “Sorry, you look like you are a nice guy. You got the looks too and everything. But I am not looking to meet anyone.”

“Ah,” Trevor nodded wisely, “the best friend?”

Erika turned pale, glaring at him for the longest moment, unsure if she wanted to run, throw something at him or just disappear into the ground.

She opted for a grocery bag, digging in it like her life depended on it.

“Right,” Trevor continued. “Well, I am around, if you ever fancy hanging out.”

Erika had to give it to him, the guy had balls. But, at the same time, she was quite done with that conversation. Any of it. Anything that brought her even remotely close to thinking about Kyle was banished from her mind.

She wasn’t ready.

“Thank you,” Erika cleared her voice, this time, even if she felt awkward as hell, she looked straight at him. “I won’t take you up on that, you know it, right?”

“One can only hope,” Trevor offered her a small encouraging smile, nodding.

Erika shrugged it off, turning around to put away the last thing. “Don’t get your hopes up, mate,” she explained with a tired sigh. She was trying to be nice. She could have just told him to fuck off. That would have been much easier and much more directed to make that guy understand that despite whatever their mothers have said, she had other things to think about. And despite it all, she wasn’t being polite to him for his interests. She was doing it for her mother. She was happy with her new friend; Erika had no intention of causing them any problems because, yet again, she was gonna be selfish.

No. She was going to be a controlled, polite adult. That’s how she was supposed to behave, right?

“Maybe you should go finish cutting the grass for my mother now,” Erika suggested, dropping in a massive hint for him to catch. She was done chitchatting.

Trevor pulled out a massive smile. His dark eyes glimmered with amusement as he looked her up and down. “Wow, I never thought being treated like a little errand boy could be fun.”

“Sorry, I didn’t mean it that way. But you know what I meant, don’t you?”

“Sure,” he nodded, still smiling. “Absolutely no offence taken, by the way.”

May 2018

“It’s on!” Her father’s voice called from the living room as everyone in the family buzzed through the house, responding to his call and running to gather in front of the TV.

Erika took it easy. She casually held back in the kitchen, pretending to make herself a fresh cup of coffee, just so she had an excuse to delay her attendance as much as possible.

“Erika! Quick, you are going to miss it.”

“What a shame,” she whispered to herself, deciding not to reply directly to her mum’s bubbly excitement.

It was not even six in the morning in Brisbane. In London, it was almost eight in the evening the day before. Their entire family, including unrelated so-called uncles who were only good family friends, were gathered around to watch a live episode of Ring Of Honor featuring Aussie Open. Everyone was there to see Mark on the screen, doing the thing he had left the country months ago to go and do.

Even Trevor was there. Not by her invitation. Her mother had taken a liking to seeing them hanging out and, despite her attempts to get her to stop, she kept inviting him around.

Erika was trying not to think about it and did everything in her power not to pay attention to him, even though he kept coming onto her.

“You're not interested in seeing your brother on TV?” He wondered leaning against the door frame, looking into the kitchen.

Erika hid behind her cup of coffee, trying her best not to roll her eyes. “Coffee,” she simply explained, hoping that would be enough.

“Oh, fair enough,”

“You can go watch it though. My mother invited you over for that reason,” she didn't want to sound rude but it was too early in the morning for her to deal with unrequited interest. Especially when she never led him on.

Yes, both their mothers had tried to find every excuse to have them hanging out, but Erika had never stopped reminding him how not interested she was. Although, politeness and awkwardness aside, she started suspecting he was taking it like a challenge. Which she was more than happy to let him do. She was the one who would have won in the end, anyway.

Erika approached him, hinting to move to the living room, encouraging him with a little look only pretending she would have followed him. Instead, she kept herself in the back. By that point, as soon as Trevor took a seat in one of the chairs placed around the room, expecting her to sit by his side, it was too late for him to realise she didn’t follow him.

Erika’s lips bent in a small grin that she hid behind her cup of coffee.

Her attention then distractedly moved to the TV screen. She was only pretending she didn’t care. She knew how big of a deal a match in Ring of Honor could be and she wished she could be there with them.

By now, everyone knew she wasn’t talking to Mark, so no one would have second-guessed her weird behaviour. She only needed to keep appearances up, like her biggest problem was Mark on the screen. It was more than convenient for her to stay behind everyone so that everyone’s eyes were pointed at the TV and no one would have noticed the way she pined over the tall Aussie boy playing pretend fighting by her brother's side.

She was working so hard to become someone she could be proud of. Someone she would think worthy. Someone who could consider apologising. But she felt like her way was still long. And she wasn’t ready to see Kyle, yet.

She barely allowed herself to think about him. Because only the thought of him was enough to destabilise her. She missed him so much it was unbearable. And thinking about how things went was a wave of regrets that rolled from the inside of her, ripping her chest open.

At night it was worse. When she was alone, trying to sleep, the thought of him crept into her mind, leaving her breathless, and Erika would find herself grasping on that lousy piece of clothing she stole as if it could ever replace the real thing. Often, she’d cry herself to sleep, suffocating her pain into the pillow.

Her entire body ached anytime she thought about what she had ruined and how there was a chance she’d never get it back.

She wasn’t ready to see him now, doing his thing, working on his dream. It was too easy to take the image on a TV and filter it off the truth, convincing herself that he was happy with his life as it was and she’d only ruin it even more if she ever dared to get closer to him again. Even just looking into a TV screen made it so easy to convince herself it would have hurt him, somehow. It would have surely ripped her apart. And she couldn’t afford to have a breakdown in front of her entire family.

Erika held her breath as she focused on the screen, definitively losing the battle with herself. She watched the boys circling the ring. They had just been announced. Both walked with their typical cocky stride, filling up the space.

Mark looked imposing and casual as usual, confident smirk printed on his lips, in line with his character who wasn’t afraid of anything only because he just knew he was stronger and bigger than most. Erika’s heart still trembled looking at him and a small, sad smile popped on her lips. She hated to think about it. He didn’t deserve it. But she missed him.

Then, her attention shifted to Kyle. He was just as pretty as she remembered. Maybe even more. He had a black strip around his bicep, making his arm muscles pop. That was new. And it made her heart stop. The way just looking at him walking around, all serious, trying to be imposing, as Aussie Open were generally heels, made her feel inside was impossible to describe. Her heart leapt out of her and through halfway across the world, reaching for him. God, how much she wished to be by his side. A shiver crossed her as the memory of knowing exactly how his lips felt on her skin haunted her.

If only her problem was simply longing for him. The worst part was knowing how she had him in her arms, to keep safe, to respect and love. And she just broke his heart out of stupidity.

As usual, he wore his hood up, only so he could cock his head back and kick it off himself on the top buckle, presenting himself to the crowd in his archer pose.

“Why does he do that?” One of the older cousins asked distractedly as everyone looked at the boys and commented on their entrance.

“He’s known as the Aussie Arrow,” Erika explained, keeping her arms crossed to her chest, ignoring the few that turned to look at her. Trevor was studying her particularly closely. She had to try everything in her power to remain as stoic and detached as possible. “Fast, lean and sharp, get it?”

“Oh!” He wasn’t the only one replying with that, putting Erika’s words together.

She had witnessed maybe thirty seconds, top. And she already couldn’t handle it anymore. Kyle and Mark crossed in the ring and exchanged an affectionate fist bump. That too, made her chest ache.

“Such a sweet boy he is,” her mother started, “spoke to him on the phone just the other day,”

“Don’t say that, auntie!” The younger of all cousins, only eight, complained, warning her, “We need to believe he’s evil!”

“Oh, sorry!”

“He’s so cute though,” her cousin giggled, hugging her pillow. Them two were the only girls spawned in between all the family kids. She wasn’t much younger than Erika and yet she felt like there was an abyss in between them.

“Yes,” her mother agreed, “very pretty young boy.”

“What do you mean you spoke to him?” Erika intervened between their chattering, letting her question roll out of her chest before she could even think about it.

Her mum popped her head up, looking at her from over the sofa. “Sorry, darling? What’s that?”

“What does it mean you spoke to Fletch?”

“Hey,” one of the uncles cut through, “we are trying to watch Mark here, take your gossiping somewhere else,”

Erika ignored him, pressing on. “Mum?”

“Why do you care, honey?” The woman looked at her for a long moment, “We had some light conversation as Mark couldn’t come to the phone, so he was kind enough to entertain me in the meantime.”

Erika’s chest ached.

Of course, he was. He was a delight.

She wished so badly to hear his voice. She wanted him to talk to her. To whisper sweet things into her ear just like he did that night, as they giggled in between the sheets.

Her mother was still looking at her, waiting for an answer that didn’t come. Not with words. Erika bit her nails nervously, looking away. And then something seemed to strike the woman as recognition sparked through her eyes. “Darling? Do you have anything to do with the boy?”

“No,” Erika lied badly. “I mean, yes, of course, he is my friend,” she tried to correct herself, not helping her case at all.

As more and more people’s attention moved on her, Erika tried to hide only for her mother to gasp softly. “But you aren’t talking to him, I take it.”

Erika grumbled, rolling her eyes. “Can we just go back to watching?” Erika pointed at the TV. “Look, you are missing it.”

“Now I understand why he asked about you.” Her mother smiled, “I thought it was for Mark at first, but it wasn’t, was it?”

Erika was hit so deeply that she didn’t even realise how evident her reaction to her mum’s words was. “Did he?” She gasped, breathless, even before she could bite her tongue and force herself to shut up.

The entire family was watching. Everyone now knew or suspected there could be some drama. And their attention only grew, like bees on honey.

“You know what? It doesn’t matter. I don’t care. And I don’t care about that stuff either,” she dismissed them all and, with her coffee mug, proceeded to leave and exit from the backdoor, finding some peace on the patio.

Erika dug her hand into her cardigan pocket and picked up the cigarettes, feeling the need to calm her nerves.

She sat down on the steps of the back porch, leaving her cup of coffee by her side and lighting herself a cigarette. The moment she inhaled the hot smoke into her lungs, was the second she found herself able to breathe again.

Her eyes were stinging because of the tears she was desperately trying to keep back. She squeezed herself into the light cardigan she was wearing, curling up on herself. Everyone was going on with their lives. Everyone was still existing. When she felt like she was stuck to a single moment from two months ago and had no guarantee she’d ever made it out.

What if Kyle had moved on? But then why would he ask about her?

What if she was only fooling herself and would have never changed? Never enough to be good for him, anyway.

The back door opened and closed as the wood of the patio creaked under someone’s weight.

“Go away, mum,” Erika warned, looking straight in front of her, not in the mood to have a conversation. “I don’t want to talk.”

“Good thing I am not your mother, sweetheart,” Her dad's soft chuckle slipped right through her. He sat by her side on the steps and gathered his hands on his knees, not saying a word more. He just sat there, with her, looking into the garden.

He was a sweet man. Maybe oblivious sometimes. A perfect match to her mum. He wasn’t too good with small talk, but he was there and that was what counted, even when Erika didn’t ask for it or want it. That’s where Mark learned to be so caring, most of the time.

He wasn’t a bad father, but Erika did find herself to hate him in their youth since he was more at work than home. Now, she knew it never meant he didn’t love his children, but at the time, a lot of the bad stuff she was doing she did also to get his attention.

She pushed her cigarette packet over to him, offering a smoke that he accepted gladly. “Your mother can be intense sometimes, I know. She doesn’t do it intentionally.”

“I know.”

“And sometimes she doesn’t read the room either,”

Erika still found the strength to chuckle, nodding. “No. She doesn’t, does she?”

Her dad leaned against her, giving her a small bump shoulder to shoulder. “She only means well. She wants to make sure you are ok.”

“But I am ok! I’ve been saying it every day,”

“Yeah?” Her dad looked right at her. Both she and Mark were a spitting image of the man. “I don’t want to overstep, but it looks to me like you are always so sad.”

“But I am ok, dad,” Erika still pushed out a soft smile, looking at him. “I could be so much worse,” she didn’t need to explain, “instead I am here, sober and doing my thing. I am ok.”

“And I am proud of what you are doing. I have to admit when you came back so abruptly, I was scared you’d fall back into the old habits. But you can’t just take care of your responsibilities.”

“What am I supposed to take care of?”

“This,” he tapped his chest, sending her a meaningful look. “You do not have to talk about it with me. But find someone to talk about it, because what you are carrying will eat you up, one day.”

Erika thought her dad’s words would have hurt her. She was ready to react her usual way, closing up. Instead, she took a deep breath, feeling some sort of release abandoning her chest. “I don’t have friends here. Mum only keeps trying to fix me up with Trevor who’s now convinced he has a chance.” She chuckled, but it wasn’t funny, “I used to talk about this stuff with Mark.”

“I know, sweetheart,”

“But then I fell for Kyle and,”

“That Aussie Arrow boy?”

“Yes.” Erika felt the boulder pressing on her rolling off her chest. It was the first time she admitted to someone else what she felt for Kyle. For the first time in months, she felt empty and free. It wasn’t relieving enough to push her pain off, but it made it so she could breathe easier. “I didn’t tell Mark. I kept it a secret for maybe too long. In the beginning, I thought I could pretend it wasn’t happening. I knew I wasn’t right for Kyle. But it got progressively worse and I just couldn’t stay away. To the point, Mark became suspicious first and protective after. Kyle is like a younger brother to him. He wants to protect him from harm, I know that. I respect that. Only he thought I was going to be harmful.”

“Is that why you don’t talk anymore?”

“He said some pretty bad things to me about my past. Made me think I wasn’t good enough. So, I bolted. Breaking Kyle’s heart in the process. And now, here I am, trying to keep it together. So, I am fine, dad.” She tried her best to smile, even though her chin was shaking and her eyes were glossed by the tears she couldn’t keep back anymore. “I fucked up. I had something good going on and I ruined it.”

Her dad left her the space to cry, rolling an arm around her shoulders and pulling her to his side, cradling her softly. “I am sorry, sweetheart.” He kissed her forehead once she calmed down, trying to lift the mood slightly. “And what did Kyle think about you not being good enough?”

“He would have skipped backwards for me.” She smiled distractedly.

“I like this boy,” her dad smiled proudly.

“He doesn’t know what I did though. He doesn’t know who I was I couldn’t tell him.”

“But he didn’t meet the girl you were. He met you for you.”

“But I am still so ashamed. My past doesn’t stop existing just because I decide to change.”

“But look where you are now and all the things you accomplished, honey.”

“And look all the bad I did, too. Mark wasn’t wrong, doubting me-”

“Don’t justify Mark.” Her father simply and calmly huffed, as if he was settling a quarrel between two kids over a toy, “Your brother should have known better. He should have expressed his fears differently trying to be more understanding, not making it so to scare you off and making you burn bridges.”

“Maybe. But what if he’d end up being right? What if I don’t deserve that kind of happiness? What if I keep fucking up?”

“But what if you don’t?” Her father made her look at him, pulling out a sweet smile, “What if you are sober, keeping the pieces together and doing ok?”

“That’s so scary, dad.”

“I know, honey, I know.” He patted her on the shoulder then, he pulled his phone out of his pocket, passing it over to her. “Call your brother.”

Erika froze, looking down at the black screen of the phone he handed her. She held her breath, trying to find a way to put her thoughts in order and find some common sense. But she had none left. It was either keep running away and ignoring things or decide it was time to grow up and forgive.

“He’s having a match right now.” She hesitated, trying to find an excuse.

“We both know he’ll be done soon. If not already.” Her father released the soft sigh of someone wise enough to know better. “Call Mark, darling. It doesn’t need to be to reconcile. But you need to unload what you have inside. And that’s the only way.” He pushed the cigarette butt into a soil pot and then leaned in, kissing her temple, before standing up.

There was something unspoken going on with her parents. The less they reminded her of what she did in her past and the bad she caused, the easier it was for her to feel at ease enough to feel like she belonged with them. It wasn’t enough to let her forget and she still didn’t like the idea of living in Brisbane in the long term. But for now, she was already juggling too many plates, she didn’t have the time or focus to think about the future that way.

“I’ll be inside, making sure no one is disturbing you,” her dad continued, “Especially that Trevor guy.”

“Thank you, dad,” she didn’t necessarily refer only to that last part. She was truly grateful.

Her father replied with a simple yet meaningful nod before disappearing into the house, leaving her all the time and space she needed.

#kyle fletcher #kyle fletcher smut #kyle fletcher x reader #kyle fletcher x ofc #kyle flecther fanfic #aew fanfiction

[hello-vague-stuff]

Outdoor Wicker Furniture Will Provide a Classy yet Relaxing Motif to Your Patio

While wicker furniture is extremely popular for indoor use, it is practically a staple for many people's outdoor furnishings. Most outdoor wicker furniture is made from rattan, the most common plant stem used in wicker manufacturing. The rattan outdoor wicker furniture is durable but still comfortable enough for prolonged use, although a pad is certainly suggested if you wish to not only maintain your comfort but also keep the wicker furniture in top notch condition. Alternatively, if you like the wicker look but either do not want to spend the money on outdoor wicker furniture or do not want the hassles of caring for your wicker furniture, you should consider outdoor furniture made from vinyl or resin which has been cast to look like wicker but is much easier to clean and maintain.

When purchasing outdoor wicker furniture, you should first make sure that it has been weatherproofed. As with any dried wood, leaving wicker furniture out in the elements for too long will cause it to slowly break, rot and deteriorate. To combat this, be sure to either stain the wicker or apply some sort of weather sealant to as much of the furniture as you can. This will greatly improve the life of your outdoor wicker furniture so you can eventually pass it down to your children's children. Alternatively, fake outdoor wicker furniture does not need such weatherproofing since vinyl and resin are already completely weather resistant and will not break down after several harsh winters or summers.

True wicker furniture will cost you much more overall in both money and labor than synthetic furniture with a wicker look. Because of the investment, it is hugely important that you maintain the quality of your wicker furniture and keep those high use areas covered with pads or other fabric coverings. By placing a pad on your outdoor wicker chair's seat, you will greatly preserve the durability of the wicker where you sit while adding extra cushioning and comfort.

Why not bring a wicker love seat Into your home? For many years people chose to keep their wicker furniture outside of their home. It was used during the summer months on the patio and then stored in a corner of the garage or in a shed underneath a tarp.

A wicker love seat can actually be used both inside and outside of your home. Wicker is no longer an outside accessory so consider purchasing a wicker love seat that you can use each and everyday.

Wicker comes in many different colours and styles. Although white is the traditional colour of wicker it is possible to find wicker furniture in blue or even a pale pink. You can custom order almost any colour you choose so that it will complement your decor.

A new trend in wicker furniture is to incorporate more than one colour into the design. You may choose a light blue base for the wicker love seat and darker blue legs and arms. This adds a fun aspect to the piece and with a flowered throw cushion placed on the seat you'll have an interesting focal point for your outdoor sitting area.

If you do want to use your wicker love seat for your patio you'll need to consider whether you want traditional wicker or resin. Resin is a material that can be crafted to look just like wicker but it has added benefits. Those benefits are mainly in the area of weather resistance. Resin stands up better in the rain, wind and sun.

A resin love seat is also very easy to keep clean. When little ones spill juice or big ones spill wine on the love seat it simply takes a quick wipe with a damp cloth and the furniture looks as good as new.

Wicker furniture from Garden Furniture Offers can work perfectly in any situation from a college dorm room to an outdoor veranda. With a wicker love seat you and your special someone can enjoy a comfortable place to spend time together.

[narilily]

BY THE ROOM...

kitchen:

What is the character’s favourite food?: Nari’s a big fan of dumplings, any kind that she can get her hands on. Around the holidays, especially since her family always makes them for special meals, and she feels like she gets a little bit better at making them each time she gives it a go!

Are they good at cooking? How good/bad?: Decently good! Definitely not good enough to give up her multiple day jobs to become a professional chef or anything, but she’s good at making dinner for herself, and she likes to get adventurous with recipes sometimes, whenever she has the chance. Overall, definitely not bad in the kitchen at all!

Do they leave the dishes out?: ... sometimes. Not a lot! But if she’s having a glass of tea on the patio and gets up to do something, she can’t guarantee that she’ll remember to put it away immediately, and sometimes that ice cream bowl will sit out on the end table until she gets up the next morning to put it back, can’t lie.

What kind of food is in their refrigerator?: A lot of fruits and salads, mostly healthy things, she can’t help but to want to eat good when she has to opportunity, but there’s also normally some sort of chocolate in there, since everyone knows that it tastes best chilled!

Do they cook, eat out or get take-away/delivered food more?: Cook, for the most part. But if it’s been a long day at work or she just doesn’t feel like spending a lot of time in the kitchen, she’ll definitely choose to go out to eat on her way home, or pick something up to save time.

living room:

How does the character spend weekends?: Gardening, going to town-wide events, visiting with friends. For the most part, Nari doesn’t work a lot on weekends, preferring to work overtime through the week to have them off, so a lot of her time is spent catching up on the things that she missed out while she was busy.

What kind of movies does the character watch?: A lot of rom-coms, movies that have a happy ending. Anything where the underdog comes out ahead or someone overcomes big things to become great always gets her attention, too.

What do they do with friends?: Whatever her friends want to do! Sometimes that means hanging out and playing a card game while sipping some wine, and other times it means going out horseback riding or hiking or just hitting up the clubs at night. Nari’s a generally outgoing, upbeat, fun person. Especially when it comes to time with friends.

What’s their favorite pastime?: Gardening and working in her sewing room. The word ‘work’ should be a turn-off there, but she loves creating new fashion and watching some beautiful pieces being created right out of the machine.

What’s their favorite TV show/Film?: Nari’s all time favorite movie is Devil Wears Prada, and she loves watching old cartoons, like Rugrats or Hey Arnold!, but... Totally Spies makes her giggle every time.

bathroom:

How does the character prepare in the morning?: Firstly, with a bit of meditation and yoga, often right after having a nice, hot cup of tea. Then she moves into her morning routine of showering, getting dressed, doing her hair, and taking care of the chickens, plus making sure any flowers or plants that need it are watered and fed before it’s off to start theday.

Do they sing in the shower?: Nari is of the belief that if someone says that they don’t sing in the shower, they’re lying. Everyone sings in the shower! The acoustics in there are amazing.

What kind of hair product/make-up do they use?: In the shower, shampoo and conditioner, plus a treatment every now and then. Body wash and scrub, facial scrub, shaving cream. For other products, she loves a good moisturizer and is always careful to wear SPF. Masks now and then, definitely some cold cream. When it comes to make-up, Nari tends to stick with mascara and lip gloss when it’s for work, but she has a large amount of make up that she wears for special occasions!

How clean is this character?: If you’re going to work in a plant nursery, you have to get used to dirt under your nails. That means you also have to get used to taking a lot of showers and scrubbing up often, and she definitely does that!

Does the character have thousands of shampoo/shower gel bottles by the shower, or do they use only the bare essentials?: God, yeah. Her bathroom is just full of bottles and glass jars, no matter what time of year it is, or how often it gets used... which is not always that often, admittedly.

bedroom:

How do they sleep? (Position, sleeping habits, bedtime routines): Living out in the country, Nari’s gotten used to falling asleep at night to the sounds of gentle rains or the occasional owl... but those coyotes will wake her right up, so she’s not always the best sleeper, admittedly. As for position, there’s no set one that she sleeps in! Her bedtime routines mostly involve her locking up the house, reading a little bit, doing some deep breathing, and then nodding off.

What are their pajamas like?: Light, airy, easy to wear pieces! Underwear and a tank top, or shorts and a t-shirt, sometimes paired with a robe if she’s up and moving through the house or has company over, too.

What do they dream about usually?: Nari’s dreams are very varied and very vivid. She dreams a lot about her childhood in Merrock and her time spend in London, especially with her husband, running through the botanical gardens together. She also dreams of the future a lot, believing in thinking about things that she wants to see in her dreams. Sometimes, it even works.

How neat/tidy are they?: Although she strives to be as neat as possible, of course she has the occasional mess in the house! But she tries her best. Her sewing room often does look like a bit of a mess, but she does everything that she can to clean it up when she has the time.

How affectionate are they?: Nari can be affectionate when it’s warranted! It doesn’t mean that she runs around hugging people or kissing cheeks if they don’t want it, and she definitely loves the little gestures a bit more, like sending someone a bouquet of flowers or telling them how great they look that day.

attic:

What is the character afraid of?: Her parents getting older is the main thing that scares her. Although she would love nothing more than for them to move back to Maine so that she could take care of them, they’re happier where they grew up, and she can’t hold it against them, even as she tries a little harder to convince them with each visit. Still, if it’s not that, it’s thunderstorms. She hates thunderstorms.

How do they deal with bad memories?: By doing things that comforts her. If Nari’s mind is plagued with bad thoughts and things that make her uncomfortable, she tends to try to balance those things to think them through in a better environment. Long walks through the flower fields, a quick jaunt to the beach, sewing something extravagant, anything to keep it from being the only thing on her mind.

What is this character’s role in a horror movie?: Nari would absolutely be the panicked one that just... ran. And then ended up getting killed off early. Everyone would be really, really sad and swear that they would get revenge, though, so at least she’s good motivation!

How do they hide their secrets?: Nari has a locked box that she keeps under her bed, so if there’s ever anything she needs to hide, or something she needs to say, but not out loud, it goes there. Every now and then, she goes through it and chooses to get rid of some things that she feels are no longer needed in her life.

#merrockdevelopment #all about nari

[oro-e-diamanti]

The one with the matchmaking

My masterlist

Description | Victoria is desperate to set you and Thomas up... Might there be a spark already?

Content | Fluff

Pairing | fem!Reader x Thomas

Word Count | 2663

Taglist (add yourself here!) | @mywritingonlyfans @damianodavide @lizstans @its-afucking-mess @ethaneskin @dont-let-me-drown-in-you @vampirtet @lividisuigomiti @tabi-toast @ethan-torchio-angelo @cheese-toastie-11 @thewitchinthemountain @ethanesimp @sofckinelectric @man3skin @daddydamiano @finelinejpm @superchrystaldrug @ginny-lily @nientedaridere @shaunthesheesh @damianodavidhands @teatrodellavita @coven-daddy @solasullabarca @foryourllove @makapaka11 @slave4yourlove @geklutst-ei @marriedwithmarktuan @bookish0918 @mehrmonga @ginny-lily @ohtorchio @messyhairday-me @bidet-and-legolas @maybanksslut @katyldamusic @fuckim-so-gay @demoiselle-en-detresse00

***

There had been an unspoken thing between you and Thomas from the first day you met. It was one of those right person, wrong time scenarios. Both of you were happily taken by other people, loving your partners, and leading healthy relationships. It simply hadn't been meant to be and both of you had gladly accepted it. Nothing had ever happened, despite the others insisting there must have, neither of you was like that. So you stayed friends with him, the same way you stayed friends with Victoria, Damiano, and Ethan and it didn't take long for the five of you to grow into a loving group, a chosen family. That was until both you and Thomas happened to have broken up with your respective partners within the same week. It was safe to say that it didn't take long for the meddling to start.

***

"I just think they'd make such a good couple!" Victoria said, pushing the empty beer bottles around on the table in annoyance. "They're basically made for each other."

"Leave it, Vic," Ethan said. The dark of the bar was hiding his features and the fact he was slightly rolling his eyes. "They both literally just got out of relationships, I don't think they're interested."

"But they both ended them so it's not like they've been broken up with," she insisted. "I'm sure they'll get over it quickly enough."

"Yeah I agree with Vic," Damiano added. "It's not like either of them seems all that heartbroken."

"Exactly, which is why we need to act now!"

"I still don't think it's a good idea," Ethan sighed. "Just let them figure it out on their own."

"But they're idiots! They'll never figure it out!"

Damiano couldn't help laugh out loud. He knew his friend was onto something, both Thomas and Y/n tended to be hilariously oblivious when it came to things like these.

"Maybe they just need a little push," he agreed.

"Fine." A deep sigh escaped Ethan. "But don't say I didn't warn you if it doesn't work out."

***

The moment you stepped into the vintage second-hand store you decided it was heaven on earth. It didn't take long for you to sweep through the place like a whirlwind, picking up pieces left and right, leaving Victoria and Thomas standing at the entrance still. You didn't care, this was one of your favourite places and you were not going to be held back because those two were slow. You tried on a dress that looked like an absolute mess on you and you quickly took a picture to laugh at later with the others, before trying on some trousers that you really took a liking to. You were still in them, trying to figure out if you had also grabbed a top that would match when someone knocked on the wood of the changing room. Confused and not certain if the noise was directed at you, you pulled back the curtain to come face to face with Thomas. He noticed you were in your bra before you did.

You raised your eyebrows, overly amused at how he was nervously looking around to figure out if anyone else would be able to see her, but no one seemed to be around. As he turned back, he tried not to let his gaze fall into her chest again, but failed miserably. You laughed heartily, "It's fine, stop blushing, Thomas."

He grinned, more relaxed not that he knew you didn't mind. He shouldn't, this being far from the first time he'd seen you like this.

"Vic told me to give you this dress to try on."

You looked at the piece of fabric he handed you, a gorgeous, velvety black, knee-high dress with a dangerous slit and a plunging neckline. It wasn't something you would have chosen yourself, but you trusted Vic's judgment. The curtain was quickly closed again, removing the trousers you had already decided on and slipped on the dress. It fell in a much nicer way than you had anticipated, easily smoothing itself over your curves and settling perfectly in place. The mirror agreed with your sentiment - you looked gorgeous. Okay, so this dress would do with a bit more makeup and without a bra, but it was a no-brainer that you were going to buy it.

You ripped open the curtain, now facing both of your friends. As soon as Vic saw you, she seemed as smitten with it as you were. Thomas looked stunned in his own way but stayed quiet.

"Fuck, I knew that was your dress!" Victoria shouted, obviously proud of herself for picking it out.

"Where am I ever going to wear this?" You asked, spinning to muster your reflection once again.

"When I take you out tomorrow night," Vic grinned. "There's a gorgeous new restaurant in town but it's fancy fancy, so this will do just fine."

You couldn't help but squint your eyes at her through the mirror. Her suggestion sounded just fine, but the way her eyes flickered made you feel like there was something more to the story.

***

"Wait, so how will you going out with her to dinner help, exactly?"

"Oh, Damiano, stop being so dumb. Obviously, I won't go."

"I don't get it."

"I'll have some sort of last-minute emergency, and since both of you will be out of the house, Thomas will have to step in."

Ethan sighed, shaking his head at his friend's plan.

"Why do you have to meddle so much, Vic?"

"Because those two don't get it. But once they see each other all dressed up, romantic dinner, candles, good wine, it'll click."

"Whatever you say."

***

"Oh my god, Y/n, I'm so sorry!" Victoria burst into your room, Chili cradled in her arms and an apologetic look on her face. "I know we said we'd go to that fancy restaurant tonight, but Chili's been coughing and the vet told me to come in immediately."

You side-eyed the little white dog, looking as happy as can be, but there was no reason for you not to trust Victoria. Right? You briefly petted Chili's head.

"Don't worry about it, we can always go some other time."

"No!" Her outburst surprised you. "I mean, it's so difficult to get a reservation there and you should wear your dress out. Damiano and Ethan are out, but I'm pretty sure Thomas is free, please ask him, he'd probably love to go with you!"

You wanted to scold Victoria, tell her this wasn't happening, tell her you'd be fine just staying home, but she didn't give you a chance to do any of it. Instead, she left your room, immediately shouting for her bandmate. It was the reason you found yourself at a candlelit dinner with the blond man mere hours later.

"You look amazing, by the way," Thomas said. Well, he actually kind of mumbled it into his pasta rather than proudly state it. You felt like blushing.

"So do you, love. But you know I love you in a suit."

Your eyes met, just for a moment, before both of you found yourselves awkwardly staring back at your plates again. You didn't know why you were behaving like this, or why he was, you could only attribute it to the fact that this felt like an overly romantic date and the waiter had referred to you as his girlfriend multiple times already. Neither of you had corrected him. You hadn't minded the single rose that had been placed between you on the table, accompanied by a little wink and a smile by the waiter.

"You know, you make a lousy boyfriend, not even bringing me flowers for our date, " you teased, watching as a shy smile appeared on Thomas' face, his eyes travelling down the table for a second before looking at you again with more than a twinkle.

"I did take you to the nicest restaurant in town, surely that gets me some points?"

The giggle bubbled over your lips easily. Everything came easy with Thomas. He made the troubles disappear with one look, one touch of a hand, a single word, a gesture, his existence. He was your own personal cure to everything.

***

"No, I'm telling you, it worked," Victoria excitedly gasped and she gathered in the kitchen with Damiano and Ethan, trying to stay as inconspicuous as possible. "You should have seen them when they came back!"

"Did you actually wait up for them?" Ethan asked, slightly disbelieving, slightly amused.

"Well, they didn't know obviously! I just cracked my bedroom door open a bit. But they were all giggly and happy and they hugged when they said goodnight!"

"Vic, we all hug all the time," Damiano threw in.

"Not the way they did. I'm serious, this is working and you'll see soon enough!"

"So what's the next idea then?"

"I'm... I'm not quite sure," she admitted. "But I'll figure it out and it'll be perfect."

***

The thunderstorm hadn't been predicted by any of the weather channels. You found yourself standing in front of the patio doors with Thomas, watching the heavy rain disturb the surface or the pool, trees swaying in the wind, a flash of light illuminating the garden in regular intervals. It had only been the two of you home when it had started, everyone else out to meet friends or sitting in a bar with a drink in their hand. You had been having a lazy day, unwilling to leave the house at all, while Thomas had slept for so long no one had bothered trying to wake him so he could join in on plans.

"Do you want to compare our favourite records?"

You had been so focused on the happenings outside of the glass that you almost flinched in surprise at his question. Still, a slight smile, the right kind of look, and you were nodding enthusiastically. Hasting up the stairs, barefoot and in nothing but shorts and the shirt you usually slept in, you went through the little collection you had brought to the summer house, already hearing the first notes of Led Zeppelin's Black Dog echoing downstairs. With a smile on your face, you grabbed a few records and bolted back down to Thomas.

"I still prefer Led Zeppelin III," you giggled, only to be greeted with Thomas' shocked face. "Anything that has Immigrant Song on it is a hit, really."

"Blasphemy! Nothing tops IV, and you clearly have no taste."

"You clearly have no taste considering you think anything Led Zeppelin has put out is better than Fleetwood Mac's Rumours." You barely waited for the first song of Thomas' album of choice to finish playing before interrupting it with the sound of Second Hand News.

It didn't take long for the conversation to get heated. Still, you kept playing your record in the background, effortlessly dodging his effort to change it, even though the whole thing had been his idea in the first place. He was still complaining, explaining, talking to a wall basically, as you danced around the living room, as the music flowed through you, singing along, thunder only happens when it's raining, as the weather outside did its worst.

"I just think it's much too sad, most of it," Thomas finally concluded.

"Doesn't that just make it so beautiful though?"

"No, it just makes me sad," he pouted.

"Maybe you just never listened to it the way you should. In the arms of someone you love."

A heartbeat passed as both of you looked at each other, but then your smile returned and you motioned for him to get on the sofa with you, lying on your side as he slowly but surely moved in front of you. Your arms wrapped around him, spooning him, making you feel safer than you ever have as Songbird played in quiet tones.

Your nose buried itself in his hair, letting his smell fill your every pore, taking over your whole being as you pressed into him, singing along in nothing but a whisper.

"And I love you, I love you, I love you, like never before."

***

"Guys, guys, guys, look at that!" Victoria called out to her friends as they quietly made their way into the house. "I knew it would be such a good idea to leave them alone in the house!"

"Vic, it's not like you made a thunderstorm come along, I'm pretty sure this was not your doing for once," Damiano whispered.

"Doesn't matter! Look at them spooning! We're on the right way, guys!"

"We're not on any way," Ethan threw in. "You keep trying to meddle and the two of them are going their own ways."

"They just need another push. I just gotta think of something."

***

"Hey, they let you feed the goats here!" Victoria squealed as everyone around her let out a groan. The zoo was bustling with people, the five friends surrounded by families, and Vic easily fell in line with the children's excitement.

"Vic, I really really don't like goats," you complained. "I'd rather not get their attention because I got food in my hands."

"Fine. How about you go see the owls over there with... Thomas, and I go feed some adorable goats with Ethan and Damiano?"

The both of you allowed yourselves to be pushed away easily, chuckles on your faces as you walked away from the rest of the group, dodging running toddlers as you went.

"So, this is a set-up, huh?" Thomas grinned next to you as his arm slid around your waist, pulling you closer.

"Oh, as if Victoria has been doing anything these past weeks without hidden intentions." You let yourself mold into Thomas' side, leaning in closer until your bodies were touching as much as physically possible. "She's not half as subtle about this as she thinks. I'm sure she's watching right now."

You didn't turn around, but you felt her eyes on the pair of you, watching your every move and trying to figure out what was going on between the two of you.

"Do you wanna give her a show?" You playfully pinched his site, looking at him from the corner of your eyes just to see a smile appear on his face that was surely mirroring yours. "Make out a little bit?"

"Wouldn't that give it away?" He stopped walking, now wrapping both of his arms around you as you leaned on his chest, looking up at him.

"I'm sure she'd still think it's just a first step in the right direction."

Not waiting for his response, your hand reached up to his face, slowly stroking along the soft skin of his cheek, thumb running over his lower lip as his smile grew, then reaching around, tangling them into his hair and pulling him down to you. His lips met yours in a sigh, warm and lovely, a tingling feeling spreading through you immediately, pressing yourself into him. You could feel his thumb stroking your back ever so slightly as he held you. He wanted more, slowly moving his lips, trying to deepen the kiss, but you pulled away. Close enough to still feel his breath on you, close enough that whispering would be enough.

"Now, we don't want Vic to figure it all out immediately," you grinned before putting more distance between the two of you. He groaned, making you giggle, before taking your hand and pulling you along.

"How much longer are you planning to keep this up?" Thomas asked, shaking his head, but still amused. "We've been together for two weeks."

"Pretty sure she already bought tickets for the cinema for me and her for Wednesday... which she'll inexplicably have no time for so you'll have to come along, obviously. I can give you a hickey in the dark theater, she'll freak."

Thomas laughed out loud, pressing a single kiss to the top of your head.

"Fine. One more date, that's it?"

"One more date."

#maneskin fiction #thomas raggi imagine #thomas raggi fiction #thomas raggi x you #thomas raggi x reader #thomas raggi fluff #maneskin fluff #maneskin imagine #maneskin x you #maneskin x reader #mywriting #fluff

[chaoticpuff17]

When the Chips are Down

part 11

masterlist

hello, my darlings! the plot thickens! You all know how I love drama. Very excited for you all to read the newest installment in the series--- chaotic puff

Y/N loved lazy mornings. She enjoyed the freedom of just laying in bed half asleep still and basking in the warmth of the early morning sun. The windows of the cottage would allow in a pleasant breeze, and she would always burrow back into Mark’s arms. He always slept curled around her protectively. It was safe, secure. 

Here, on mornings like this, she could forget the worries of Namjoon hunting her down, of Jackson’s death, of the sister who was probably worrying herself  half to death back home. Instead she could, if only for a moment, bask in the embrace of a man who loved her. 

But there was no breeze. There were no sounds of the lazy Italian countryside coming to life, but there was a set of arms wrapped around her and the warmth of someone pressed against her back. 

Her eyes shot open as the realization of where she was and who she was with sunk in. This was not the Italian countryside. This was Korea, the estate, and the man holding her wasn’t Mark. 

Y/N took a moment to collect herself, to fully bring herself back to the present, before she began to extract herself from Namjoon’s arms. She had just begun to slip away, when Namjoon’s grip tightened like a vice bringing her firmly back to his chest and ruining all of her progress. 

“Go back to sleep.” Namjoon murmured, voice still husky with sleep as he nuzzled into the back of her neck. “It’s still early.” 

“Namjoon.” her voice was firm, as tense as the rest of her, but he ignored that, pulling her even closer. “Namjoon.” 

“No.” he growled against her neck. “Sleep.” 

“Namjoon.” she hissed, beginning to get annoyed. 

“Just a little longer.” he whispered, thumb moving back and forth across her belly. “Let’s just stay like this a little longer.” 

“Namjoon.” she sighed, even as she relaxed back into his arms. She could allow him a few more minutes of peace before she shattered it again. 

“Just a little longer.” 

Namjoon drifted back off to sleep behind her, but Y/N couldn’t. She was wide awake, mind reeling. 

She knew that last night was a bad idea, but she was horny, pregnant, and alone, and Namjoon had looked at her so softly, so excitedly. Just for a moment she had wanted to forget her situation, to feel loved and safe, and it had worked, if only for that moment. The moment had passed now, and reality had come crashing back down again. 

She felt dirty, ashamed. It was something she never should have allowed to happen, but it had, and she couldn’t pretend that it hadn’t. Namjoon wouldn’t let her. Last night was sure to have meant more to him than it did to her. Every moment that they had together meant more to him than it did to her. This was hell for her, but to him it was heaven. It was their married life. Every moment she was anything but hostile to him was a win in his books, a sign that they could be more even if it was nothing more than a distant dream. 

Eventually, Y/N couldn’t stand it anymore. She had to get out of his arms. She needed space to clear her head, space Namjoon seemed intent on denying her.  His grip had loosened since she had first tried to leave his arms, and Y/N moved carefully to remove herself.  Based on the light filtering through the window, it was still early morning, and if she was very careful she could slip away without waking him. That all depended on how deep asleep Namjoon was and how carefully she could remove herself from his arms. 

Each moment was slow and careful, but eventually she was able to completely extricate herself from his embrace. Finally out of his arms, she could breathe again, and thankfully Namjoon was still asleep. He looked so peaceful when he was asleep. It was hard to imagine that he was the creature from her nightmares when he looked so soft and sweet like this, but he was still the monster in her dreams, and that wasn’t going to change anytime soon. 

A glance at the clock told her it was just barely seven in the morning, and that gave her time to get washed up and ready before Namjoon woke up. It wasn’t much, but it was something. 

Forty minutes later she was washed and ready for the day in a pair of flowy lounge pants and a comfortable top, and Namjoon was still sound asleep in bed. She knew she probably should have stayed, but she wanted out of this room, and the doctor had told her she was fine to be off bedrest. 

The staff was already working around the house, and as she moved through the house, she received odd looks. The doctor may have cleared her, but Namjoon had not, and it was Namjoon that the staff obeyed. As far as they knew, she was supposed to still be in bed under the master of the house’s watchful gaze, but she wasn’t, and it was clear she was making them all nervous. 

“Buin?” Miss In appeared as if from nowhere with a concern etched onto her face. 

“Namjoon is still asleep.” she smiled as naturally as she could trying to sooth the worries of the staff. “I thought I could take Moni for a morning walk in the garden.” 

“Buin should be resting.” Miss In sighed shaking her head. “Sajangnim requested you stay in bed.” 

“And Dr. Yang said it was alright for me to be out of bed. I’d very much like to go for a walk.” 

“Buin should wait for Sajangnim to accompany her.” Miss In sighed, shaking her head disapprovingly. 

“Would it make you feel better if I put off the walk until later and took breakfast in the piano room instead?” Y/N huffed, giving in knowing that she wasn’t going to win against the housekeeper when Namjoon’s orders were in question. 

“I’ll have the kitchen prepare something for you.” Miss In bowed with a slight smile. The housekeeper turned slightly, setting her sharp gaze on one of the maids lingering in the hall. “Miran!” the poor young woman jumped like a startled mouse. 

“Yes, Miss In?” 

“Have the kitchen prepare breakfast and tea for the lady..” she turned back to Y/N. “Are you sure you wouldn’t prefer to have breakfast in the dining room or the garden?” 

“The piano room will be fine.”  she responded with a smile. 

“The garden would be more comfortable.” 

The message was clear. The  piano room was off limits for breakfast today. Namjoon wasn’t allowed within the room without her permission, and Miss In wanted her where Namjoon could find her without any hindrance. It was nice for Namjoon, but it removed the small sense of space she would have had within the relative safety of her piano room. 

“The garden will be fine.” she said with a sigh. She was tired, and it was easier to give in rather than fight to have breakfast in the room she wanted. 

“I will accompany you.” 

Y/N nodded allowing the older lady to walk her out to the patio. She was probably going to have a babysitter until Namjoon woke up and came to find her, but she was relatively used to having babysitters within the confines of the estate. She’d had them for the vast majority of the time she’d been here last year. Jungkook had been her favorite of the babysitters, and she found herself missing the young man. She had yet to see him since she returned to Korea, and she couldn’t help but wonder how he was. Logically she knew he was probably just as bad as Namjoon, but something about him made her forget that and instead look at him like a little brother. She’d have to ask Namjoon to send him over. She’d do it herself, but the distinct lack of phone made that hard. 

“Could you let Moni out into the garden?” she asked as Miss In helped her down into one of the chairs on the patio. “Poor dog would probably like to run around for a while.” 

“As you wish, buin.” Miss In nodded, going back to the doors to release the dog that was already waiting to be released. He was just a few moments too late to have gone out with her, but she still knew the dog well enough to know that he had an almost supernatural ability to tell when she went outside. 

“Hey, Moni.” she cooed reaching down to scratch the dogs ears as he jumped up to put his paws on her lap. “How’s my good boy?” his puffy tail wagged excitedly as he tried to reach up to give her puppy kisses and getting white hair all over her. “Miss In?” she called turning her attention back to the older woman who lingered waiting for the master of the house to arrive. “How long have you worked here?” 

“Since before Master Namjoon came to the house.” 

That caught her attention. “Before?” 

“Master Namjoon was brought to the estate by the previous master of the house.” Miss In nodded. 

“How old was he?” 

“No more than eight, buin.” 

Eight.  It was so young to have been brought into this world. “So he wasn’t born here.” 

“No, buin. Sajangnim was adopted by Si Hyuk-sii as a boy.” 

“Si Hyuk-ssi?” 

“Bang Si Hyuk was the previous master of the house and head of the business. He was also Master Namjoon’s uncle.”

“What about his parents?” 

“I’m sorry, buin. I don’t know.” she bowed apologetically. “Si Hyuk-sii did not make me privy to this information. I was only a maid at the time. You would have to talk to the previous housekeeper or ask sajangnim himself. All I know is that sajangnim was the son of Si Hyuk’s sister.” 

She was going to ask another question, but it was at that moment that Namjoon came through the door looking more disgruntled than she would have preferred, but she did leave him alone in bed after he asked her to stay, so perhaps she should have expected that. 

“Y/N.” he sighed out half annoyed and half relieved. “You shouldn’t be up.” he scolded quickly striding across the patio to her side. 

“The doctor said I don’t need to be on bed rest.” she huffed, sitting perfectly still as Namjoon pressed a kiss to her lips. 

“And I said bed rest. You’ve been too stressed. I don’t want anything to happen to you or our daughter.” 

“Congratulation, sajangnim.” Miss In bowed with a bright smile. 

The people in the room for the doctor’s appointment all knew about the baby, but Y/N had refrained from telling anyone else until Namjoon knew. She didn’t like him, but there was something just wrong about telling everyone else before him. No matter what her feelings for him were, he was still the father. 

“Shall I start preparing things for the young miss?” the housekeeper asked, the bright smile still stuck on her face. 

“Actually, I’d like to pick things for her if I could.” Y/N chimed in, sitting up a little straighter and accidentally dislodging Moni from his place half leaning against her lap. 

“Of course you can.” Namjoon smiled, sinking down into the seat beside her. “I’ll have someone bring catalogues for us to look over.” Of course it would be catalogues. He wasn’t about to let her actually go into the city to look for baby clothes. 

“I’ll check on breakfast.” still smiling, Miss In excused herself,  leaving the couple to relax in the gentle morning sunshine. 

As soon as she was out of sight, Namjoon turned his attention fully on her. “You weren’t there when I woke up.” 

“I didn’t know I was confined to the bedroom.” 

Her stiff posture and brusk tone didn’t go unnoticed by Namjoon. “Y/N.” he sighed reaching over to grasp her hand. “I don’t want to fight with you, not today.” 

She slipped her hand away from his. “I’m not fighting.” 

Namjoon was a smart man, smart enough to know that something was wrong. She wouldn’t meet his eye, and she strung taunt like a bow string. It seemed like she would snap at any moment, and that wasn’t good for the baby. 

“Please, jagi.” he cooed forcing himself to remain calm and gentle even though she had a look in her eye that made it seem like she was going to punch him if he so much as moved wrong. 

“Last night was a mistake.” she whispered, keeping her eye on the dog who had jumped up onto the chair on her other side. 

“No, jagi. It wasn’t.” 

“We shouldn’t have. It’s not good for the baby. It’s not…” 

“No excuses, jagi.” he cut her off, annoyance building up. “I’m tired of excuses, and I don’t want to fight. Last night wasn’t a mistake. We are consenting adults, a married couple. There was nothing wrong with what we did.” she was going to argue, but namjoon cut her off again. “We would have to eventually, jagi. As pleased as I am that we have a healthy daughter on the way, I still need a son.” 

“Couldn’t you adopt a son? You were adopted” she whispered. With her eyes fixated on Moni, she didn’t see the way that Namjoon tensed beside her. 

“I see you and Miss In have been talking.” he mused, his voice lowering into a growl and a certain darkness entering his eyes. “No. There will be no adopting. You promised me a son, and we will have one.” 

“I lied.” 

“What?” he snapped, tone venomous. 

“I might not be able to give you a son.” She turned her gaze to meet his, jaw set stubbornly. “This pregnancy shouldn’t have happened. None of the others made it. I didn’t think this one would make it either. The never made it.” 

A deep, charged silence fell between them as Namjoon processed this new information. 

“Others?” 

part 12

#bts #bts fic #yandere bts #bts rm #bts namjoon #bts fanfic #mafia bts #mafia #mafia au #mafia kpop #yandere #yandere kpop #soft yandere #yandere namjoon #namjoon #kim namjoon #namjoon x reader #mafia namjoon #rm x reader #RM #dark romance #a dangerous game #when the chips are down #adg universe

[angeli-marco-writes]

Tom Felton - Baby on the Brain

A/N - First request! I hope this is what you wanted, I really like this idea. I don’t know Tom, nor do I claim to, and the other characters are fictional figments. To celebrate 100 followers, I'm uploading this early. Thank you!

Warnings - overloads of fluff, mentions of baby sick, mild language, slight angst, hints to a breeding kink whoops, lightly implied smut.

Summary - Visiting Tom’s brother and his new baby should be a walk in the park, really, but some unwitting truths come to ahead that you can’t refute. You’ve always wanted a family, but does Tom? (Request for Tom Felton: you guys meet his brother's new baby and then decide to have your own.)

Tom’s bruised knuckles rap thrice against the oak wood of his brother's front door, squeezing your smaller, trembling hand in his, running his fingers over the band of the ring in pride of place. Taking a deep breath in sync with yours, he turns his twinkling blue eyes towards you, lending you a twitch of a reassuring smile.

“Why are you so nervous? It’s only my brother,” he says, his voice gruff following the cigarette he smoked in the car.

“It’s the baby I wanna see,” you breathe, “less nervous, more jittery.”

“Maybe you should’ve gone for tea this morning instead of a double shot coffee.”

You nudge his ribs with your elbow, and then his overly sensitive hip bone with yours, coaxing a gentle chuckle from his lips, “Maybe I wouldn’t have needed it if you hadn’t kept me up so late.”

The devilish, shit-eating grin creeping onto his lips tells you that he feels no remorse, but then again, you’d take tiredness and a night like that over anything. His fingers twine tighter around yours as footsteps begin to shuffle behind the door, followed by an ear-piercing, blood-curdling screech, absolutely unholy.

“See he’s having fun with the kid, then?” you begin to whisper, but your words trail off as Tom’s very exhausted looking brother appears in the doorway, feeding bottle in hand, burping rag over his shoulder, deep purple bags beneath his eyes.

“Alright mate?” Tom greets, stepping one loafer-clad foot over the threshold, offering his brother a man hug.

“Tired, yeah. How you doing, man?” he responds warmly, patting Tom’s back.

“I’m good, I’m good, Jon.” Tom says, though you can feel him almost imperceptibly tense beside you.

Turning ever so slightly, all eyes are cast on you. Naturally, you offer Tom’s brother your warmest smile, teeth and all, sympathy welling both in your eyes and your heart. Kids must be tough if he looks like this with a three-week old.

“And who’s this?” Jonathan asks, sweetly, inquisitive more than anything, though he does look at you a bit peculiarly, scrutinising you, perhaps your outfit, the mom jeans you paired with a cropped cardigan perhaps not his style.

“This is my fiancée, Y/N.” Tom says, his words holding an inflection or pride perhaps, but whatever it is, it sends a pang of excitement shooting down your spine, a smirk creeping its way onto your lips, one you have to bite back, “I’m sorry I haven’t bought her over before, but you know what it’s like.”

“Yeah, course. Nice to meet you.”

“And you! Where’s the baby?”

Tom chuckles softly, and he curls his arm around your body, hip to hip. “She loves kids.”

Jonathan stands aside, a welcoming hand to beckon you into his home, the laminate floors covered in baby commodities, pastel blankets strewn everywhere, but other than, surprisingly clean considering Tom mentioned his brother was a hoarder and was always the most untidy of the bunch all throughout their youth. Considering how bad Tom is and how often you’re stuck cleaning away his dirty dishes and putting his laundry on, you were expecting far worse, but maybe Tom was the worst of them all along.

He tickles between your ribs as you wander through the halls, greeted in the back room by a tiny blonde headed baby, cradled in two arms of a just as exhausted looking lady donning a kind smile, stars dancing in her eyes as she stares down at her temporarily placated child. Tufts of blonde hair pair with enamoured hazel eyes to compliment the soft yellow of their clothes and the rosiness of their chubby cheeks. The hair, the nose, the tiny dimples; this baby looks just like Tom - and all his brothers - did when they were little dots themselves. The same little treasures. You, however, were an unattractive baby compared to this ball of sunshine.

“This is Ainsley.” Tom’s sister in law says lazily, her words falling off as she gapes in adoration at the gurgling blob of joy in her embrace. “And I’m Zara.”

“I’m Y/N.” you smile widely.

Should he not know better, Tom would quite possibly think you’re going to either collapse of hyperventilate, judging by the flush of your cheeks, your elevated pulse, heart beating out of your chest, the tiny, delightful, desperate whimpering noises from the back of your throat, elicited from a single glance into the babies eyes.

Said baby begins to make some indistinguishable noises and flails its arms around faintly, feebly, in your general direction. You’d be lying if your heart didn’t do a somersault in your chest.

“M- may I hold Ainsley?” you stammer out, extending your covered arms in a similar cradle to that of Ainsley’s mother.

“God, you’d be doing me a right favour,” she retorts, her accent broad, Geordie.

She shuffles softly down the pale green sofa, so perfectly complimenting the oak floors, to make a room for you that you take gratefully, and position yourself astutely against the back of the sofa. Before retrieving the baby, though, Tom grasps for a muslin cloth and affectionately drapes it over you, affectionate in the manner that he does it with such care, grazing his thumbs over your collarbones as he goes, ever so gently, barely even a touch, but enough to let you know he’s there. He holds your gaze for a moment, his lips twitching into a smile. This alone sends butterflies to your stomach and sets a sheen of fog about your head, taking you even more by surprise when the baby is laid in your arms, writhing and smiling and blinking so sweetly.

“Hiya darling,” you coo, “aren’t you just the most precious thing.”

“Gender neutral name and clothing...” Tom interjects, sidling up on the arm of the sofa beside you, “may I ask their sex and the pronouns you’re using?”

“Male, but we’re trying to be as gender neutral as possible so they can grow up not feeling pressured.”

You can’t wipe the beam from your face, or prevent the small ‘awwh!’ from escaping under your breath, curling the cloth slightly around the child, “That’s a wonderful attitude. Tommy, would you fetch my bag from the car, please?”

In a second, he’s bouncing up, his hand thrust deep in his chinos to fish for the car key. “You asked me to grab it before we got out as well, sorry sweetheart. Back in a minute.” With a nod to his brother, he’s racing out the door, his footsteps thundering through the house. Your attention, however, remains glued to the baby.

“Would you like me to set them down for tummy time afterwards, or is he going back to sleep?” You ponder aloud, eyes glued to the wry tufts of hair so soft and silky between your fingers.

“If he falls asleep in your arms, that’s fab. We’re just livin’ minute by minute.”

You release a small laugh, “Fair enough.”

Jon sits beside you tentatively, between yourself and his wife, his arm wrapping around her as she leans her body weight against him, her hair--held in a bun before, now just kind of flopping into her eyeline--tickling her shoulder and causing him to wince a little.

“How do you know so much about babies?”

The sigh you don’t mean to release is wistful at best, plain pining at worst--and probably most obvious. “I’ve always wanted them, kids, but Tommy’s the first guy I’ve settled down with, but despite being engaged, we’re still taking things slowly.”-- You shrug, as best as you can with the baby in hold, and cock your head to the side to peer down better at every tiny freckle on Ainsley’s skin.--“I love him to bits, but he wants to wait, and I’m still young, a good chunk younger than he is.”

“If it helps,” he starts, “I’ve never seen Tom as in love with someone as he is you. He’s besotted. You say the word, he’ll do it.”

“I know. I just don’t want to make him do anything unless he’s 100% sure.”

“And that’s what makes you his perfect girl.”

Your heart swells. There’s a beat, a pause of silence, filled only with the zapping of the car outside, no more than a couple of seconds before Jon’s wife speaks again.

“Enough of that. Show us the ring!”

If they’re all this excitable at something as simple as your engagement ring, perhaps you’ll fit in with his family better than you anticipated. ** Certainly, if their amiable gasps are anything to go by as you display your hand to them, your ring finger held out, supporting Ainsley’s head in the crook of your elbow as they gawk at the diamond glistening in the sunlight streaming in from their floor-to-ceiling patio doors. You have to admit it’s a pretty damn beautiful ring, the one you always dreamed of. An oval cut 0.5ct diamond held in place by a delicate split-shank 18ct gold band. It glows ethereally in whatever light there is, but most spectacularly in Tom’s eyes.

“It’s the most gorgeous ring,” she gushes, “apart from mine.”

A smile creeps its way in. You’re not entirely sure what the hell you’ve done right in your life to deserve this incredible, expensive ring, or even Tom for that reason. This is the life you’ve always dreamed of, the one that Tom’s brother has, and if you’re even half as happy as they are after being married for 5 years then you’ll consider your life to be a great success. You always wanted the quiet family life in the suburbs, with a lovely house and a nice garden and a couple of kids, working a part time job that pays well and allows you time for your children and your husband… then you fell in love with him. Loving Tom, though, that’s the true gift in your life, and you’d take him over that life any day. He’s the best, truly.

Speak of the devil and he shall arrive, since Tom comes puffing into the room, his heavy footsteps coming to a halt in the doorway as he hands over your abnormally large handbag.

“Here,” he gasps, but turns his gaze upon your hand, witnessing their marvelling at the rock he put there, “it is a pretty boss ring, isn’t it? Worth every penny.”

He bends down to ghost a kiss over your lips, his slightly long dark-blonde hair tickling your cheeks, smiling warmly down at you before deciding to sidle up next to you in the small gap between you and the arm of the sofa. However, half way down, his hip bones are digging in, and he winces up like he’s just been shocked. You know how sensitive his hip bones are, a fat you use against him incredibly often for all the best reasons, but today, he’s been so good, and you shan’t make him sit uncomfortably.

Keeping your hold on Ainsley--who’s almost asleep already, quieter than he was before with only faint gurgles escaping, their eyes droopy--steady, you begin to stand, and shuffle yourself up a bit, allowing Tom to take your previous seat, before placing yourself back down with as little ‘umph’ as you can manage, hooking your thigh over tom’s in the process. He knows what to do, it’s always been your calling card at home or at a party: as soon as you sling your leg over his, he pulls you into his lap eerie time, and today is no different. Well, perhaps it is, as he furrows his dark eyebrows inquisitively, gazing adoringly at you and the child in your arms, waiting for your nod okay before he hitches his arms around your waist and tugs you, as gently as he possibly can with his delicate grip, into his lap, giving you both ample space.

“Babe,” you whisper, “can you fetch the gift out of my bag?”

He’s instantly ferreting around until he finds the presents you neatly wrapped in polka dot paper, and hands them to Jonathan. Eagerly, they're unwrapped, and it seems that your many arguments over what to get Tom’s niece or nephew were worth it, considering the fact their eyes begin to brim with tears.

A soft grey elephant plush, holding a yellow heart, embellished with ‘Ainsley Felton, love Uncle Tom’, and a Peter Rabbit china crockery set for when they’re older.

“Thank you,” Zara exclaims, the way only a mother can, in gracious relief, “they’re adorable, so perfect.”

And before you know it, both you and Tom are being embraced wholeheartedly, as though you’re already their family. It’s been a life since anyone besides Tom hugged you, but this, this is nice.

“Well, lunch?”

Said lunch is a tumultuous affair, with a delivery pizza being ordered from the local dominoes, but with Ainsley so comfortable and calm in your arms, it was an elected decision not to move him, and instead, Tom fed you your pizza. It isn’t the first time, his love language seems to be feeding you things, but normally it's strawberries or chocolate truffles. Never before have you covered an entire medium pizza being fed to you while trying to avoid dropping any toppings or tomato sauce onto a peaceful baby, but that is just an indicator for the rest of the afternoon, Tom’s hands or eyes never once leaving you.

Completely accidentally, Jonathan and his wife drift off to sleep. You smile sadly at the sight, unable to blame them, they must be knackered, the problem simply lies in the fact that Ainsley begins to stir just as they drift off.

“See if there’s any milk in the fridge, please, I think they’re using formula.” you hiss to Tom, standing up cautiously.

Aghast, he grapples for words, “I-I’m sorry, what?!”

“Forget it,” you sigh, “take the baby and change him, please.”

“Change him?!” Again, that same tone of staggered surprise. “I don’t know how!”

“You have four nieces and nephews already, yes you do. He’s going to start screaming in a minute and wake your very tired, very groggy brother. Change the baby.”

When your eyes begin to thin, nostrils flaring, eyebrows raising, he knows not to mess with you, so he swallows thickly, his throat bobbing up and down, and scoops a crying Ainsley from your arms. As he treads upstairs, you find your way back into the kitchen, and find on the counter the bottles done with their sterilisation. This is okay, this is great, you know how to do this, and years of babysitting taught you exactly how to do this. It’s almost like that scene from Outnumbered, assembling the bottle with your eyes closed, muscle memory taking over from your brain. When your eyes flutter open, you almost let out a little squeal at your achievement. If only you could learn this all over again, have this life with a little child of your own, with Tom being as good a dad as he’s acting right now. When you handed him the baby, though, you couldn’t help but notice the fear that flashed over his face, paling him a shade, his pupils dilating to erase the blue. You wish he wasn’t so scared…

A few minutes later, with the kettle boiled and the formula made, you appear in the front room where Tom is swaddling Ainsley, holding the bean against his beating heart, making only the very slightest movements to entertain them.

“Give him a bit of tummy time while the milk cools, do you want to feed him?” you offer, stepping over the threshold .

“N-no,” he exhales slowly, “I think you’d best do that. Can I just put them down?”

“I’ll grab the mat from the corner”--you spied it as you walked in, a colourful crinkle mat rolled up and tucked away from view against the cream walls, behind the flat-screen on its grand stand--“and then yeah.”

Even as he puts Ainsley down, stomach first, onto the playmat, he looks petrified. Taking a seat on the floor to watch over them, you tug on Tom’s tan trouser leg. Indecisiveness gnaws at him, tugging him away from you, but he concedes to your widened puppy eyes, and tumbles onto the shag pile rug next to you, his arm wrapping around your shoulders like its second nature.

“You okay?” you whisper.

“Yeah, course. You?”

“Yeah.”

You let your head fall to his arm, a blissful smile creeping its way onto your lips when Ainsley looks you dead in the eye, hazel orbs twinkling, full of hope.

“I love you.”

“I know,” he hums, “I love you too.”

“Then why are you being so… prickly with me today?”

He shifts away from you the most miniscule amount, “I’m not.”

“We’ve been together for years, Tom. I know when you’re bloody lying.” you lower your voice for the final words, “now tell me why you’re being such a pouty puss.”

You mimic his frown, knowing full well that he hates it when you do so. He hates seeing you sad, even if it's just pretend, so makes a swooping move to kiss the frown away.

“Would you leave me if I said I didn’t want kids?” his voice breaks on the final word, little more than a whisper, but his next move is so animated that it almost startles you with the bottle in hand. “I mean, you know I want them. I love kids, I want us to have a family, but…”

“Nothing would ever make me leave you, Tom. You couldn’t do anything that’d cause me to fall out of love with you.”

The pain in your statement sends a shock through you, singing your heart, poisoning your mind, sending a sour bile running up your throat. No matter how many daggers shoot at your heart, it remains to be true. You’d do anything for him. If, tomorrow, he turned around and said he wanted the two of you to stay together but never marry and never have children, you wouldn’t back down without a fight, but you’d accept it. Despite all your lifelong hopes, nothing trumps Tom.

“I’m gonna feed Ainsley now.”

Picking the baby up from the rug, you put a bib around his neck, and throw another cloth around you, taking a seat in the corner chair to feed him.

“I’m going to the bathroom.” he says, and walks out, shoulders slumped.

You watch him wistfully as he leaves the room, and even when he returns--refusing to look at you--your gaze is still trained on his every move, slumping into the shag pile rug to watch the TV on a low volume. You can feel his eyes on you, that burning pair of eyes that follow you everywhere, your every movement, his ears honed, trained to your every shift and whisper. The second you turn upon him though, he’s looking away.

“I’ll put Ainsley down now,” you announce after burping him, “we need to leave soon if we want to make it home before dark.”

He doesn’t even bat an eye as you sashay past him, Ainsley’s cries muffled by a dummy, but the second he hears your footsteps heading back downstairs, his own begin to thunder, pounding against the stairs to meet you halfway.

“Wait,” he whispers, “come on, sit down, talk to me. I love you.”

A sigh heaves your chest, “I love you too. Talk about what?”

“You’re being arsey with me.”

“Because you said you don’t want kids!”

“Well I didn’t mean it, I’m just”--he pinches the bridge of his nose, and ushers you up on the stairs, your calves hitting the carpet--“there’s a lot to think about. We just met the kid, and I saw how your face lit up when you held him.”

“You know I want kids, Tom.”

“I know, but can we not talk about kids for a second? I want to talk about you. You’re my fiancée, I want to make you my wife. I’m just scared.”

“What of? You have nothing to be scared of. I’ll be here no matter what.”

“That’s why I’m scared!” he exasperates, flailing his arms about, “I don’t want you to senselessly follow me and love me if I can’t give you what you want. I’m scared of fucking this up, fucking you up. I’m scared of this going wrong, with children or marriage or saying something wrong, because I can’t lose you.”

“Tom,” you murmur.

Your hand flies up to cup his jaw, grazing your thumb over the stubble growing there, the faintest shadow.

“I love you. I- I need you. Y/N, sweetheart, please. I just wanna stay how we are, just stay this way for a bit, slow down because the world is moving too fast, and I’m gonna fall, but I can’t drag you down with me.” he croaks, cradling your neck with trembling, callused hands. “Can we stay how we are? Just us? Just you and me?”

“Babe you aren’t gonna lose me. Everything else off the table, we’ve got this, we’ve got us. We can stop the world and get off if that's what you want. Nothing is immediate, everything can wait.” you promise, your eyes boring into his.

All at once, his lips come crashing down onto yours, swallowing any inhibitions with his lavishing tongue, his hot breath slanting and fanning over your lips, leaving innocent adoration in their wake. Until a piercing scream resounds.

“Except maybe that.”

You duck from his grip skilfully, and slip into Ainsley’s room, two fingers reaching out to tickle their stomach, causing the scream to hiccup in their throat momentarily. Then, as if wondering what to do next, he just stares up at you imploringly, questioningly.

“Come on Ainsley, I just set you down to sleep. Be good and let mummy and daddy sleep too, okay?” you coo, tucking his blanket back up to his neck, slipping his cuddly toy closer, “go back to sleep.”

This child is already one with an attitude, you can tell that by the vehemence with which he yells out. You don’t even have to think twice before you’re stooping into the cot, swathing him in blankets, and lifting him to your bosom, where his screams fall to mere gurgles.

“Do you think he’s sleeping in the bed with them?” you ask Tom, keeping your voice at a steady whisper even with the slight bounces you’re offering the baby, “because I think that causes parental problems above all else because they’re being kicked in the back all night. Still, decreases the risk of SIDS. Why do they have a cot up if they are? He can’t sleep without contact…”

You don’t even realise you’re thinking aloud until Tom presses his thumbs into your shoulders, buckling your whole body. It’s the instant tension reliever, truly, and your shoulders do seem tighter today, perhaps from all the baby wrangling.

“Lets just sit, shall we?”

You do, taking up refuge in the front room once again, with an extra blanket of his, as well as a supply of cuddly toys, rattles, and dummies. Tom watches you with fascination for the rest of the afternoon, everything you do drawing his full attention; enticing, entrapping. His heart swells at the sight of you bouncing Ainsley around to make him laugh, cooing and giggling with him to coax a smile back after a wail that you hushed down, holding him so closely as he sleeps. He’s finally seeing it, after all these years, you, in your true home habitat, caring for a child, so kindly, so motherly, so naturally. Everything you do instantly seems to set the infant at ease. He knows it should be him, Ainsley is his nephew, but… you’re just better.

In fact, before he even realises it, he’s craving what he doesn’t have. Not that he can’t have it -- you’ve been together for a long time, you’ve discussed a future with children more times than he can count, and of course he wants it. Tom, he’s always wanted to be a dad, to read his kids books and sing them lullabies and show them what daddy did for work… but it's always been a pipe dream. Your wishes of a family have never come to fruition, and all because of his selfish fears.

The world can’t stop turning just because he’s getting cold feet and wants to climb off for a minute to catch his breath. That’s not how life works. If you want something, you’ve gotta grab it by the balls, because the opportunity will be gone before you know it. And with Tom? He won’t lose you because he won’t take a chance to make you happy and give you what you want. If anything, seeing the crestfallen look that settles between your brows when you actually have to give Ainsley back to their parents just further instils and confirms the idea in his head. There’s his future, in his mind's eye, as clear as day. This is what he needs to do, but better still, this is what he wants.

The drive back to your home is spent in relative silence, and a pensive one at that. You know like instinct that Tom is replaying your final conversation with Jonathan and his wife the same way you are. After all, the simple words did put a dampener on your reconciliation. Your hand is on the gearstick the whole way, though, your fingers entwined with his, the simple contact enough for you. You were right at lunch: all day it's been his hands or his eyes on you: you like it when it's both simultaneously, the way it was when you said your goodbyes.

Tom’s hands settled on your hips, his chin atop your head, and you just fell into his enveloping warmth, smiling lazily at the couple you rescued for the afternoon.

“Thanks so much, we owe you one.” Jonathan said, giving Tom another one of those manly hugs as you stand in the dusk-darkened wooden porch.

“Really,” Zara chimed in, her feet shuffling on the tiled floor as she held her husband's hand, “you’re welcome to have him any time. That is, of course, if you don’t have a little one of your own by the time you’ve recovered from that blighter.”

You forced a dry chuckle at her words, an awkward sound, but you seemed to recover well enough, “Well Ainsley’s been a pleasure, and I’m glad we could give you some respite. Take care.”

“And you. Drive safe.”

“We will,” Tom said, offering them a smile, flashing his keys, keeping his grip on you resolute, “thanks for having us.”

Their words still loom over you like a dark cloud. It was a throwaway comment, one they’d have thought nothing of, and most people, and even you on a good day, but you’d had that… spat earlier on that changed everything. Dredging it up would just put an even further dampener on your mood, though, and with a drive home in the semi-darkness already hanging over you like a massive impending storm cloud of fear, that’s definitely not ideal.

“Nice baby, Ainsley,” Tom mentions, turning his indicator on to pull off the dual carriageway.

“Yeah, and he’s cute.”

“Nice eyes.”

And a couple more comments like those are the only conversation you share as the journey goes by, but soon enough, you’re on the home stretch, and your street rolls into view. With your head comfortably rolled back against the headrest, your eyes shut from a tiring day of exertion and childminding , you don’t notice Tom stepping out the car and unravelling his grip from you. Only does it become apparent when he opens your door and unclips your seat belt, kissing your lips tenderly, the chapped skin arising you from whatever zoned out, thoughtful state you were in before.

“Come on, let's get you inside sweetheart.” he murmurs, taking your hands in his as he helps you out the car, His chivalry never fails to astound you--he even carries your bag.

“Thanks darlin’.”

You follow him inside, kicking off your shoes routinely, shrugging off your coat to hang on the peg with your name etched above it. What happens next, though, is what shocks you the most: this isn’t part of your normal ‘returning home’ routine, not if you’ve had a day as tiring as this one. You’re neither complaining nor disappointed, though. How can you be when Tom’s lips latch onto your pulse point and he has you writhing in seconds, only his arm around the small of your back there to support you.

In one fell swoop, he has you spun around and pinned to the wall, his figure with lust-blown eyes hovering above you, every line in his face so loving, even the subtle part of his lips. They only do that when he’s so desperate to kiss you he can barely breathe, when he’s so eager to confess his love again and again that all other words are inconsequential. This is your Tom.

“Let’s try for a baby.” he says, completely resolutely, no trace of hesitation anywhere in his perfectly, delectably gruff tone. “I want one, I want us, and I don’t wanna wait to build a family with you.”

You can feel tears begin to form in the corners of your shock-widened eyes. This… this is- What changed his mind? Just hours ago, he was hell bent against the idea, but now? His cheeks are glowing at the mere prospect. Courtesy and patience be damned, that is if you can get the words out with how choked up you are…

“Really? Y-you mean it?”

His faint smile widens into a full blown grin, one that confirms everything for you. This is it, this is the Tom you agreed to marry, the happy Tom, the smiley Tom, the one who can barely contain his excitement even as he nods, a stray lock of dark blonde hair falling into his eyes as he does so.

Reasonably, you can’t be expected to hold back, and when his hair gets long enough that it falls into his eyeline? That’s your main weakness, so who can blame you when you catapult yourself up onto him, your legs joining around his wait, your arms settling around his neck. He holds you right back, catches you like he was already waiting, and pins you against the wall again. Perhaps the serotonin is too much as you both grin into a searing kiss, the every press of his lips against yours holding more passion than you can fathom a cohesive thought about. He’s… incredible.

And besides, with this enthusiasm, his kiss alone leaving you gasping and clutching onto his hair for some kind of grounding, perhaps it’ll be the first time lucky…

#tf #draco malfoy #dracotok #tom felton #tom felton x y/n #tom felton imagine #british toms #felton #tom felton fluff #tom felton angst #draco imagine #draco malfoy imagine #draco x reader #tom x reader #tom felton x reader #dad tom

[djarinbarnes]

me olvidarás - three

･ ⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･

Pairings: Javier Peña x female reader

Warnings for the chapter: charming javi. (again, yes he needs his own warning) kissing. dry humping. fingering. flirting. again, doubtful javi. talk about sex. a little angst. but a lot of fluff.

Word count: 6.2k

Summary: an undeniable warm summer vacation in Bogotá. simply trying to get away from your nosey, boring parents and live for once, you meet a man who impresses you beyond where your imagination could ever take you.

a/n: more slowburn, yet a little action. 😏

previous chapter · series masterlist

･ ⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･

The hours that pass after that are excruciatingly long, and you find yourself bored out of your mind. You have a small garden that connects your parents’ rented apartment to yours, and that’s where you spend the most of your hours.

Your trusty, worn-out copy of Jane Eyre is in your hands, and you’re nearing the halfway mark again. With sunglasses resting on your nose, you can get away with occasionally dozing off, your parents probably not even having noticed you weren’t at home all night.

Under the stinging rays of the sun you lay, finding comfort in your book as you miss Javi. Missing a stranger. How pathetic, you think to yourself and mentally condemn yourself to hell for 1. Falling in love with a devilishly handsome stranger that 2. Is pushing 40.

You can’t believe you let it come to this, no matter how good it felt. Somehow, with Javi, it felt right. You couldn’t explain why, but there was just something about his aura that captivated you and held you prisoner.

You knew you wanted to know more about him. You wanted to know everything. You wanted to feel him, all of him. And you knew now, that Javi was the one you were losing your virginity to, no matter what it took you.

Now, some may say that losing your virginity to a stranger you’ve met on some vacation is one of the stupidest things you could do, but right now you didn’t really care. You couldn’t care less about what other people thought of what was right and wrong, because you knew this felt right for you.

You reach over and take the soda by your side, sipping the sugary beverage into your mouth through the straw. You sigh and put the soda back on the table, the book following it. You lean back and let your skin soak up the rays of uv you so desperately need.

You don’t know how long you’re asleep for, but you’re startled awake by banging on your front door. You quickly sit up and gather yourself, before pulling your robe around your body, the flimsy material barely covering your skin.

You open the front door reluctantly, not really sure if you’re awaiting a visit from someone. Your head is cloudy from falling asleep in the sun, and you mentally cheer at the fact that you’re not sunburnt.

In front of you stands Javi, a tidy bouquet in hand. Your lips tug into a wide smile as you swiftly pull the sunglasses off your face, watching as Javi gulps at your undressed state. Bikini and a robe - he didn’t expect you to open your door like this. He really didn’t… And yet there you were. Even more beautiful than this morning.

You watch as he extends the hand with the bouquet towards you. He’s bought you roses. It’s your first ever bouquet of flowers, and they’re bigger than any roses you’ve ever seen before. Red, voluminous and just downright beautiful.

“I saw these and thought of you.” He says, and if you’re not mistaken there’s a slight blush littering his cheeks. You couldn’t have seen that right. Maybe he was just shocked that you weren’t really dressed.

“Oh my god, Javi they’re absolutely breathtaking!” You take them from his hands and bring them to your nose, inhaling the sweet scent of the flowers. “Thank you so much.” You lean forward and place a kiss on his cheek before you turn on your heel.

“Come on in. I have no idea if vases exist in these apartments, otherwise I guess a glass will do…” you say as you rummage through the different cabinets in the kitchen, before making your way through the sparse living room before finally coming up with something that you figured was supposed to be a vase.

You watch him through your lashes as he takes uneasy steps around your apartment, looking at every little painting on the walls and books forgotten in the unsubstantial shelf, supposedly a bookcase. You set the roses in the filled vase on the small table in the middle of the apartment, before peeling your robe off your shoulders and placing it on one the chairs, before you make your way into your bedroom to change into something more comfortable.

You knew Javi watched you as you basically stripped in front of him, but you wanted to tease him. You were hoping that he would give in and possibly sleep with you if you teased him enough. He was a man, after all. And men had desires, after all.

You found a flowy summer dress, forgoing a bra since it was already a little tight around your bust. You swiped on a coat of mascara, mentally cursing yourself to the devil when you accidentally hit the bridge of your nose with the wand.

Understandably though, since your hands were shaking. You hadn’t even noticed before now. You quickly get rid of the black mark before you gather your lip balm from your bag, bringing it along with you this time if you were lucky enough to place more kisses upon the man in the living room.

His eyes followed you as you walked out of your bedroom and over to your handbag, putting the small container into the bag. You drape it over your shoulder and turn to him with a smile.

“Alright. I’m ready to see Bogotá through the eyes of you.” You walk up to him and he swiftly pulls you in for a determined kiss. Your arms automatically wrap around his next as you deepen the kiss slightly, pushing your body against his to have him closer.

His tongue glides over your bottom lip again, taking you back to the night before. You feel your heart pick up the pace at the thought. His hands are on your waist, drawing you impossibly closer. You feel the heat radiating off his body, and you figure it’s from the scorching heat of the Colombian afternoon sun. Maybe mixed with a little bit of desire. Hopefully a little bit of desire.

You whimper against his lips as his hands tighten on your hips, his fingers digging slightly painfully into your muscles. It’s a good kind of painful, though. It lights your nerve endings on fire, just like his touch did yesterday. There’s an urgency in the way he’s kissing you, almost like he was craving you as much you were craving him.

His hands are rough as they slide up your sides, swiftly coming around your upper arms to hold you out in front of him, your lips still perked as if he was kissing you, the swift breakage of your intimate moment making your erratically beating heart thud uncomfortably in your chest.

“We need to go. I’m not going to be able to keep my hands off of you if we do this much longer.” He breathes, and you can easily see the conflicting feelings battling away behind his hooded eyes. You lean into him again, forcing yourself out of his grip to place another kiss on his lips.

“I don’t want you to hold back.” You whisper against his lips, before you pull away and make your way to the door leading out to the small garden between your parents’ apartment and yours, which hadn’t been fully closed. “But we can do that later. Don’t need my parents to see anything,” you cast a smirk back in his direction, before sliding it open fully, walking over a small patio to locate your parents.

“Mom, dad, I’m going out. I won’t be home for dinner, alright?” you smile when you find them. Your dad is asleep in the shade of a balcony extending over the garden. Your mom is reading her usual magazine, and you know she’s deeply invested in whatever Doctor-Sexy novel that’s found its way into the magazine this time when she doesn’t protest.

Normally they would be against you going out alone in a city you barely knew, but you had spent most of the day yesterday checking out the city after your arrival, where normal people would’ve probably been tired after a flight like that.

But you weren’t - quite the contrary though. You had been full of energy and determination as you’d dressed yourself in your most comfortable hiking shoes that you’d packed with the knowledge that Bogotá was located on the high plateau of the Andes.

You loved exploring - a lot. In the span of a few hours, you’d found more than enough small taverns, shops and restaurants you wanted to visit in the three weeks you were staying in Bogotá. When the sun had gotten too warm and the air too humid, you’d gone home, taken a shower and changed clothes - and you know what happened then. Something with a handsome stranger.

You had no idea where Javi was taking you, and it almost felt too good to be true. It felt like a literal fairytale, being swept off your feet by a handsome, older stranger who brought you flowers and complimented you on your looks, even though you barely knew one another.

Maybe it was the Colombian custom, but you couldn’t care less at the moment. It was a whole new world for you, to actually feel interest from the opposite sex - well, not exactly new, but the whole reciprocation of feelings that you were sure was there.

He even opened the door for you, watching you as you slid into the passenger’s seat of his car. He’s quickly on the other side of the car, seating himself in the driver’s seat. When the car roars to life, the sound of the engine finally manages to drown out the sound of your heart beating in your chest. You admire him as he pushes the sunglasses resting on his dashboard onto his nose.

It was so exciting and scary at the same time, going out with Javi in a city you barely knew. You hoped that he would show you something extraordinary, but you literally had no idea what he had planned for the two of you. You watched the small apartments slowly turn into nothing else but landscape, and it dawned on you that he was taking you out of the city.

“Okay, so I guess I’m not going to see Bogotá today, huh?” you tease as you turn your body toward him. You watch as his lips tug into a smile as he casts a look at your bared legs, the soft swell of your chest under the flower-patterned dress you were wearing.

He noticed the air condition had made goosebumps rise on your skin and pebbled your nipples, letting him know you hadn’t put on a bra. God fucking damn it. He felt his pants tightening over his hips, and he mentally cursed himself to the devil. God, you were really going to be the death of him.

You watched as his hands tightened around the steering wheel, and you cast your eyes down his body. You bit your lip as you noticed the slight bulge in his pants. It was like a lightbulb going off over your head as you pushed the seatbelt strap under your right arm before leaning over the middle console slightly, placing your mouth right against his ear.

“See something you like, Javi?”

You watch as goosebumps rise on the skin beneath his ear, all the way down his neck. You look over his shoulder to take in the area of his crotch again, watching him twitch slightly. You bit your lip, overthinking a possible plan that wouldn’t distract him too much.

You slowly let your hand follow his front, all the way down to rest against the hard cock in his pants. You very much enjoyed the fact that you had this effect on him. You heard him draw in a deep breath of air as your hand finally came in contact with him, and you watched as his eyes fluttered slightly.

“What are you doing, hermosa…” you can hear he’s short of breaths, and it makes your heart do a slight flip. It turns you on, knowing the effect you have on him. Maybe it turns him on as well - knowing you’re aroused and willing to tease the living shit out of him.

“Eyes on the road, Javi…” you whisper in his ear as he tugs his lip in between his teeth, your hand moving over his bulge with gentle strokes. You tug his earlobe into your mouth, sucking on the soft flesh before you lick up the outside of his ear with a firm tongue. He lets out a moan as his knuckles turn white on the steering wheel.

You place a kiss on his tragus, then his cheekbone before peppering kisses down his jaw. You reach the column of his throat, placing small kisses over his pulse point, feeling the way his pulse is beating erratically under the soft, tan skin. Your hand is still moving in gentle circles, his breath languid as he’s still watching the road.

“Does this turn you on, Javi?” you whisper into his ear and he nods with a gulp. You smile as you go back to kissing his neck, hearing the way his breathing got caught in his throat again. You barely feel it when he brings the car to a stop, but you definitely feel the way he turns his body violently, his hand grasping you behind the neck, drawing you in for a hot and heavy kiss.

His tongue is dominating your mouth, tasting every crevice of your teeth and the roof of your mouth. You’re a breathless mess by the time he lets you go, yanking his seatbelt off before he’s undoing yours and basically manhandling you into his lap.

You’re whimpering as his hands find your hips, grinding his crotch forcefully into your mound, drawing a moan out of your mouth. His tongue is still exploring your mouth with everything it’s got, drawing a wet patch into the crotch of your panties. The fabric of his jeans is rough against your inner thighs as they grow more and more sensitive as your arousal begins to bloom in your belly.

Javi’s hands are traveling up and down your hips, gripping your flesh on top of your dress, bunching the fabric in his hands as he continues to ravish your mouth. You place your hands on his shoulders to steady yourself, whimpering wantonly into his mouth as the friction from his bulge draws you closer and closer to an inevitable orgasm.

It’s a whole new feeling from the few times you’ve brought yourself satisfaction with your own fingers, and it turns you on even more to think that someone is present to watch you come undone. You bite onto his bottom lip as you moan out, the friction against your clit finally makes the coil in your abdomen snap. Your eyes snap shut as your fingers dig themselves into his shoulders, his hands stilling your hips over his, holding your convulsing pussy tight against his bulge, letting him feel the contractions happening within your panties.

You let his bottom lip go as you finally come down from your startling high, opening your eyes slightly to take in his lust-blown eyes looking right back at you. You tug your own lip in between your teeth, your chest heaving from the daze you found yourself in as you lean back slightly, accidentally leaning against the steering wheel, making the horn go off.

It startles both of you before you both break out into laughter of just how unconventional the whole situation was. You hoped that no one noticed your little escapade - hell, you didn’t even know where you were. You finally looked around, noticing you were literally in the middle of nowhere, and you saw nothing but water and trees around the car.

It was like he’d driven you straight out into what appears to be a lake, and you’d been too occupied with him to even notice where you were. You popped open the door and stepped out into what appeared to be a mix of sand and dirt. You let out a laugh as you finally inhaled something that wasn’t the warm air of the car that reeked of sweat and sex.

Javi followed you out of the car before opening the passenger door behind the driver’s, reeling out a blanket and a basket full of delicious looking food, fruits and two bottles of wine.

“How romantic.” You giggle and hear your stomach grumble, letting you know it hadn’t forgotten about the lack of food since the pancakes earlier in the morning. You almost moan out at the sight of ripe strawberries, raspberries and blueberries. “A picnic?”

“Come on,” he says as he makes his way toward a small spot behind some trees that has the perfect amount of shade while it still overlooks the water of the lake. From the place where you’re standing, you can’t make out how big it is. You follow him and almost throw yourself on the blanket the moment he’s laid it on the grass.

You’re happy that it’s grass you’re on top of - you hate having sand in between your toes, no matter how much you love the beach and walking barefoot. You smile as he places the basket in the middle of the blanket before sitting down on the other side of it, facing you.

“Don’t know how long I can sit on the ground. I am an old man, after all.” He says as he picks the wine out of the basket, wringing it open. You really like the whole screw-lid invention. It’s so much easier.

“From the things I’ve experienced, you’re definitely… Young by heart.” You giggle before reaching into the basket to pick out a strawberry. You hold his gaze as you push the red berry past your lips, biting through the fruit. You giggle when you feel some of the juice trail down your chin and watch his movements as he quickly wipes your chin with his fingers.

“Thank you, Javi.” You smile before chewing through the berry, very much enjoying the way he sucks the juice off of his fingers, and the way he looks at you while doing so. You watch as he pours two glasses of the wine before he extends one glass toward you. You take it and happily take a sip.

“You know, I actually didn’t take you for the romantic type,” You say as you both fill your mouths with fruit. “But this is pretty damn romantic in my opinion.” You let out a laugh when he shrugs his shoulders, letting you know you were probably somewhat right.

“Guess I’d have to be a tiny bit romantic seeing I just made you come in the driver’s seat of my car.” The way he says it so shamelessly amazes you. He says it like the most natural thing in the world - bringing a stranger he met yesterday to an orgasm in his car on their second date. This was a date, wasn’t it?

“I mean, if you wanna call it a date, then it’s alright with me.” He says and you furrow your brows before you realize you’d actually said it out loud. Asked him if it was a date. Oh my god. You mentally slap yourself as you let out a small laugh, before nodding.

“Alright. A date with the most interesting man I’ve ever met.” You say as you raise your class for him to cheer with you. “I know this summer is going to be unforgettable.” You say as the rim of his glass meets yours, making you both smile at each other.

The hours, like yesterday, pass by like you’ve known each other for a lifetime. You’re both telling each other even more details about yourselves that hadn’t surfaced the day before. Before you know it, the sun is setting, and you’ve found your way into Javi’s embrace. It feels like you belong there - like his arms were made for holding you.

“Is it safe to swim in the water?” you whisper as you watch the sun descend on the sky. You bite your lip at the thought of skinny dipping with a man watching you, maybe even joining you.

“In el Embalse de San Rafael?” he moves his body slightly to look down at you, and he watches you as you nod. “Yeah, it is.” He feels his heart pick up the pace as he thinks about seeing you in nothing but your underwear. Or the bikini, which he’d seen you in earlier. Then it dawns on him that you probably hadn’t brought it along, which left the only possibility… you being naked.

If you do decide to strip, he knows he’s definitely not going to be able to keep his hands to himself. There’s so much sexual tension between the two of you, he’s constantly semi-hard in his pants and thinking about what messes the two of you could create together. On the other hand, he knows that you haven’t been with anyone yet, and it makes him reluctant to just do anything with you.

The whole thing the two of you had done in his car had been completely on autopilot on his behalf, and it only dawned on him what he’d done to you after he’d felt you orgasm against him. He almost felt bad about getting you off, but then he’d seen the blissed-out expression on your face.

Lost in his thoughts, he hadn’t even noticed you shimmying out of his arms, discarding your summer dress and gliding your panties down your legs before his eyes are glued to the swell of your ass, moving as you slowly tread out into the water.

He feels his heart going through many if not all emotions right at that moment. He watches as you turn your body slightly, waving to him, encouraging him to follow you into the water. He gulps down a lump that has formed in his throat as he watches your body slowly disappear under the water, before he stands up and hurriedly pulls off his clothes, one item at a time.

He contemplates on keeping his boxer briefs on, but quickly decides to discard them along with the rest of his clothes. He notices you’re giving him privacy, as you’re facing away from him, and he silently appreciates it. It’s been a long while since he’s been this kind of intimate with a woman, and boy if he doesn’t feel some kind of nervous.

As he walks toward the edge of the water, he thinks over the last time he actually took his time in appreciating a woman. Not just pleasuring her - actually appreciating her. Sure, he appreciated some of his informants’ readiness in sleeping with him and satisfying his need, but he didn’t spare them much more than that. He kind of felt like a dick about it, now he thought of it.

Before he could think more about it, his hips had become engulfed within the water, and he was close, so close, to you. If he reached out, he was touching your shoulder. He admired the way the water dripped from your hair onto your shoulder as you took in the view in front of you, getting just as lost in your thoughts as he had been in his.

He slowly submerges himself in the water behind you, and he’s sure you know he’s right behind you. His arms come around your middle, pulling your back into his chest. You giggle when you feel his mustache tickle its way over your shoulder, his warm breath turning cold against your wet skin.

You feel his hands slowly, timidly, explore the front of your body, and you extend your torso slowly from the crumpled-up position you’d been sitting in. His hands slide opposite of each other, one up and one down as he places one hand on your hip and the other just under the swell of your breast.

You moan lightly at the contact, his touch once again alighting something inside of you. His thumb grazes the underside of your breast just under your nipple, and it makes you suck in a deep breath. It’s the first time someone has ever touched your chest, and it feels so damn good. Then he’s gingerly rolling your nipple between his fingers, making you whimper out - and it’s almost not possible that it feels even better. But it does.

You lay your head back against his shoulder as the hand on your hip travels further down and in between your legs. You tug your lip in between your teeth as his lips continue their assault on your neck and shoulder. You feel his fingers experimentally moving in between your folds, rough pads gliding over the very delicate lips of your pussy.

“This okay?” he whispers in your ear as his hold on you tightens, drawing you closer to his body. You feel the evidence of the effect you have on him as his erection presses into the small of your back, making you moan even more wantonly.

“Yes, god Javi, touch me.” You whimper out as his fingers drag through your folds once, twice, three times before he languidly dips just the tip of his finger into your wet core. It feels amazing when you do it yourself, but when Javi does it - it feels way better. Like he knows just the depth of where your most sensitive parts are, as pushes his finger in further, finding it in an instant.

Your hand finds his arm and you tighten your hand on top of the muscle, squeezing your eyes shut as he sucks over your pulse point. You’re left breathless by so little, and it makes you wonder just how little he needs to do to ruin you completely. It isn’t going to take much for him to take you apart.

Another finger dips into your core and you moan out again as he slowly works you open. His mouth is tugging your earlobe into its heat, and it feels like you’re going to lose yourself into pleasure. Your mind is spiraling into a haze as he thrusts his fingers into you, his thumb rubbing gentle circles against your bundle of nerves while his fingers are still pulling and twisting your nipple.

You let out a deep, guttural moan as he curls his fingers just right inside of you, making stars appear before your eyes. Your free hand makes its way into Javi’s unruly locks, the wet digits tangling with his dry hair. You feel yourself on the edge of going absolutely feral, simply wanting to turn around and absolutely ravish the man behind you. You want to lay him against the sand of the shore and ride him senseless.

You let go in his arms, relishing in the fact that he’s bringing you pleasure so easily. You clench around his fingers as he holds you close, your cunt milking his fingers, silently wishing it was his cock. You knew it would probably take some getting used to - having something as big as the thing you so obviously felt against your back inside you.

You were certainly going to find out if you could though, and just how much of him you could fit inside of you. Maybe not right now, but sometime later, that was for sure. Your chest is still calming down from your high and Javi’s arms are still keeping you anchored to the ground. You were sure that you were going to ascend into heaven at one point during your orgasm.

His arms are warm around you in the cold water, but it still makes you shiver lightly. You wring out of his hold, turning to face him before you’re kissing him intently, bringing both of your wet hands into his hair this time, pulling his front close to yours. You feel him nudge against your stomach and you smile against his lips, before you hum slightly.

His arms come around you yet again - or rather his hands come around you to grasp the flesh of your ass. He moans into your mouth as you move your body against his sensually, wanting to repay the favor. He doesn’t let you, though, because he’s pulling away from you shortly after.

“Come on. You’re shivering.” He says as he finds your hand under the surface of the water, pulling you by the hand to the shore. On the way there, you get to admire the muscles of his ass - the way he carried himself made something clench in your pelvis, even though he’d just given you an orgasm. Were you already ready for round… 3?

The angry, red wound on his shoulder reminds you just what kind of a man he was. You wondered how long it had been since he had been shot - the wound looked partially healed, and there was just the slightest scab over it. You didn’t know much about gunshot wounds, but it appeared that he was shot from the front. You wondered if it had gone right through. It looked like it.

You caught yourself getting lost in thoughts about the kind of people he chased - if he chased people - that could leave him with a wound like that. You decided you were going to ask him about it, when you felt the time was right. For now, you let your eyes wander again.

Back on land, you’re still admiring his body, and you’re admiring him very shamelessly. It was like he brought out the worst in you - an untamable, aroused demon. You hadn’t ever eaten someone up with your eyes like you were currently watching Javi. You knew he felt your eyes on him, but you weren’t sure how he was handling it.

You tilted your head as he brought his boxer briefs up his legs to cover his ass and shield his crotch from you. You reluctantly walked over to your own clothes, also pulling your panties back on with your back turned to Javi.

There was that awkwardness again… you sigh as you pull your dress back on, the wetness of your body making the fabric stick to your skin uncomfortably. The dress clings to the back of your thighs as you tie the band behind your neck, and just then, you realize how much the temperature has actually dropped, simultaneously with the sun setting.

Even though it was still warm, you were sure the temperature had dropped more than a few degrees. The goosebumps that rise on your skin this time are from the coldness of the air around you, as you make your way back to the blanket you were previously sitting on, looking through the basket to find the next thing you were filling your grumbling stomach with.

You slightly ignore Javi as he sits down beside you, feeling kind of mad at him for acting the way he did. How did he just take you on a romantic date by a lake, proceed to give you an orgasm while you both were stark naked in the lake, care enough to get you out of the water because he could feel you were cold, and then go on to blankly ignoring you while he got dressed?

“So, I was thinking we could go somewhere to eat, if you’re hungry. I was thinking maybe I could treat you to some empanadas and a beer?” You almost rolled your eyes at him but caught yourself before you could actually do it. You let out a deep exhale, not really knowing how to handle the situation unfolding.

On one hand, you were starving for something that wasn’t wine and fruit. Empanadas and cheap beer sounded so perfect, and you silently cursed Javi to hell for being so thoughtful and yet so resistant. You kind of hated him for not taking advantage of you. It sounds weird, saying it that way, but you really did wish he wouldn’t hold back with you. You didn’t really think further before the words had already left your mouth.

“Is there something wrong with me, Javi?” you say with so much uncertainty it takes him aback. Where the sudden doubt from you had come from, he had no idea. You appeared to be so sure of what you wanted - so sure of yourself. And yet here you were, tears threatening to spill out of your eyes.

He understood why you felt that way, though. He didn’t feel good about why you possibly felt this way, but he just couldn’t bring himself to let go with you. He didn’t want to selfishly take advantage of you, even though he desperately wanted to feel you clench and come around him. He wanted to feel the warmth of your cunt, and the warmth of having you close - closer than he’d already had you.

“Hermosa, no.” He speaks as he quickly draws you into his arms, pulling your trembling body back into his warmth. Why was he so damn warm all the time? You hated yourself for the way your body so easily relaxed into his body, calming you down in an instant.

“There must be something wrong with me. Why don’t you want me?” you whisper as he’s peppering kisses into your damp hair, his hands sliding up and down the length of your arms. It feels so good, being right there in his arms. The tremble in your body has been turned down to nothing more than a little shiver, and you feel yourself relaxing into his chest.

“Trust me, hermosa, I want you so much it hurts.” It felt weird, putting it into words like that, but it was the truth. It wasn’t just in the way his cock ached to find solace within your heat - no it was so much more than that, and it scared him more than anything had ever done before. He didn’t even feel this way about his ex-fiancée.

“I want it to be perfect for you. But I’m scared, hermosa. Scared I’m going to hurt you. Scared that I’m not right for you, hell, even good enough for you. I want you to have the best. And I’m not the best.” He speaks as he looks out into the mountains on the opposite side of the lake, that mountain ridge separating the two of you from the bustling life of Bogotá.

It was easier to say it to you, when he wasn’t looking at you. He felt so bad about turning you down again and again, even though he knew you would come onto him again and again. He was afraid you were going to change your mind about him, hell, he was afraid he was going to change his mind about you.

His head and heart were going a thousand miles an hour. It’d been so long since he’d been honest with someone in this way. Not even Connie, not even Steve. Not even his informants. You just had that effect on him. Wanting to open up to someone.

“Javi…” you finally speak, and he closes his eyes, awaiting your next words. He feels as you wiggle out of his arms, before he feels your legs straddling his, your hands sliding up his arms before coming to a rest on his shoulder and his neck. He feels you press a gentle kiss to his lips, before he finally lets his hands come up to rest on your hips.

“You could never hurt me. At least I don’t have the imagination to think of why you would hurt me. Everything I’ve experienced with you has been absolutely amazing.” Your fingers are rubbing soft circles into the nape of his neck, and he feels the tension leaving his body slowly.

“Javi, I want to do this with you. I want you to give me an unforgettable summer. And I know you can do just that.” You lean in and place another kiss against his lips, this time feeling the reciprocation of his lips against yours. “I want it to be you. I want to give myself to you.” You breathe against his lips, making goosebumps rise on his arms at your words.

His mind is imagining so many things as the warmth of your inner thighs spreads over his hips, seeping into his hips and straight into his groin. He’s imagining other women with your face on them, how he would fuck them into senselessness in indescribable positions, bringing them undeniable pleasure.

Yet he can’t bring himself to act on his feelings and desires just yet. He knows you’re going to be saddened by him turning you down yet again, but with this rejection, he also knows that he is going to give into you, sooner or later. You just had to wait.

“Okay, hermosa.” He says against your lips, before capturing them in another kiss. “But not yet. Not today.” His hands are working over your ass, massaging the soft flesh with his rough hands. It draws yet another wet patch into your panties, joining the dried one already left there.

“If I’m going to have sex with you, I’m gonna be doing it in a proper bed.” You giggle at his words, just the thought of the two of you coming together as one alighting your nerve endings. “But right now, I think we both need to eat something.”

･ ⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･

next chapter

#javier peña #Javier Pena #javier peña x reader #javier pena x you #javier pena x reader #javier peña x you #Pedro Pascal #pedro pascal x reader #pedro pascal x you #pedro pascal x y/n

[softboywriting]

Mi Alma | Santiago “Pope” Garcia

Summary: After years of tension, you and Santiago finally get together at your best friend’s wedding. [Film: Triple Frontier] [Post-Film] [Flirting] [Making Out] 

Word Count: 6.7k

|Masterlist In Bio|

Frankie and Tiia's wedding is unlike any other you've been to, and you've been to a few. You're the last of your friends to get married, if it ever happens. You're picky with your men, have high standards. It's fine. You don't mind being alone for a while. Drama and games are not in the cards for you so you won't settle for someone. But this isn't about you and your love life, or so you think.

The couple was never quite normal. Frankie coming from a Catholic upbringing and since shunning it to become his own man and follow his heart. Tiia has always been a free spirit and very much into the unknown and world around her. They make an interesting yet perfect match and their wedding is no run of the mill church ceremony with a bunch of people in pews for hours on end. No. They have quite the opposite.

For starters the wedding is outdoors, a forested area just behind the house Frankie and Tiia bought last year. It's beautiful, the trees in full bloom, greenery as far as the eye can see. There wasn't a ton of prep to be done for the ceremony, just setting up chairs and arranging flowers among the natural foliage. Orange and yellow, those are Tiia's colors. Roses, carnations, peonies, you name it. She took everything the florist could get her in those colors. Frankie didn't care, he said he would love anything she loves. There is an arch made of wood that a friend of yours specially crafted just for the happy couple. It's their wedding gift from him, as Tiia will put it in her garden after the ceremony.  

The day Tiia showed you her dress you knew that the wedding would be magical. It's non traditional of course, very Greek goddess meets fairy queen. Draped white and cream fabric, gold accents, braided embellishments. It's incredible and she looks completely stunning in it. It isn't until the day of the wedding that you see her veil, natural colored faux antlers made into a crown like setting atop her head. She is beautiful.

You find yourself on the day of the wedding getting ready and waiting for the ceremony to start. You've not been told who you are to walk with. Tiia said she didn't tell any of the bridesmaids who they're walking with because she didn't want to cause any problems. Honestly you're not sure what that means, you only know that your friend Caiti would have a problem if she was paired up with Benny because of a past relationship. You check your reflection in the small mirror decor beside the door you're meant to go out. You look fine. Good. Great actually. You twist your finger around a loose bit of hair by your temple and smooth the top of the dress that matches Tiia's flowy one. Damn good.

"You're up." Says Tiia's brother, opening the patio doors for you.

You take a deep breath, pull up the hem of your dress and step out. The plan is that you meet your groomsman at the end of the wrap around deck and you walk to the forest together. You can't help but wonder who it will be. Any of the guys would be great, you're familiar with them all. Benny? He is single currently. Will? No, his fiance is in the bridal party. Frankie's brother? Maybe but...no. Santiago. Oh Lord have mercy. If it's Santiago you're going to have to reach deep into yourself and find some inner calm. Every time the two of you are together with the crew it's like fire. It is undeniable the way you connect but you have never- shit.

At the end of the deck is Santiago. He looks insanely...tempting. You say a prayer to any force listening. Did he have to look so good? Tailored slacks, a deep blue button down, no tie and sleeve rolled up, even the watch on his wrist is sexy. Fucking hell you could just turn around and run back into the house. Demand another partner.

"Hermosa..." Santiago mutters as you approach.

"What's that?"

Santiago snaps his eyes to yours and smiles warmly. "Nothing, I was just thinking out loud." He offers his arm and you take it.

"What does that mean? Hermosa?"

He leads you carefully down the steps into the grass. "It means beautiful."

"Oh...oh!" You flush, heat rising from your chest. "Thank you."

Santiago chuckles softly and lifts your hand to kiss it. "Every woman should be told they look beautiful."

"You're a sweet talker today."

"I've had a drink or two. Frankie and I had a talk before the wedding, pre marital nerves."

"I can't imagine. I've never gotten that far into a relationship."

Santiago's eyes meet yours as you glance over to gauge his reaction. He raises his eyebrows and you raise yours. It's always like this. Silent conversations. They're louder than any words you've ever exchanged. "Are you excited for Tiia?"

"Through the roof. She hasn't shut up about Frankie since they met. I'm glad she's found her person."

"Me too." He stops as you arrive at the archway. "You never know when you'll meet the right person."

"Yeah, I guess so."

He steps away, touch lingering on your hand as he parts. "Who knows, maybe you've already met them."

You look at him and he says nothing more, just gives a little smile. He knows exactly what he's doing. Fueling the fire. That's it. This wedding, you're getting Santiago Garcia.

______________________

The entire ceremony you stared at each other and it is unlike ever before, there was no conversation in your eyes. It was just a game of who could out stare who. Until Frankie began reading his vows, then Santiago's gaze changed. It flicked between you and Frankie, soft and loving.

There were tears, actual tears when Frankie began to talk about how he felt about Tiia and their bond. All of the guys were crying, proud of their best friend to be so happy and excited to take this step in his life. But Santiago...he couldn't look away from you. You try not to look away from Tiia and Frankie, knowing they deserve your undivided attention and not Santiago. It's hard. Santiago's eyes...they're undeniable, irresistible, commanding. He is making it hard not to think about what it would be like to be in your friends shoes, or lack thereof because she is actually barefoot under that dress. What would a wedding with Santiago look like? A beautiful tailored suit, beard grown out a bit for sure, messy curls, bowtie or regular tie. Hmm. And your dress, white or blush? Formal or fun? You've never thought about your own wedding and yet here you are just-

You snap out of your dream world when the guests begin to clap, the ceremony is over. You raise your hands and clap, smiling at your friends. Santiago gestures for you to join him as the bride and groom walk back down the path. You're meant to follow after, being in the wedding party and all.

Santiago's hand slides across your lower back the moment you're in reach. You swear you can feel your skin tingle all the way up to the back of your neck. "That was incredible."

"It was a very pretty ceremony."

"Are you feeling well?"

You frown and look at him, he raises his eyebrows. "Yes? Do I look ill?"

He shakes his head. "Not in the slightest. You looked...distracted."

"Can't say I wasn't."

Santiago gives a soft knowing hum in response and nothing more. Kindling. He's throwing kindling into this fire now. The son of a bitch. No. You would never call him that. He's too good. "Ride with me?" He says and you realize you've walked together to the front of the house where everyone is parked.  

"I-...Benny."

"Benny?"

"I promised Benny I'd ride with him. I'm supposed to be his DD tonight and care for his truck should he get a little out of hand."

Santiago smiles softly. "I see. I'll meet you at the hall then?"

You nod.

He lays a hand on your cheek and presses a kiss to the opposite side. "Drive safe."

Your heart threatens to explode and you're stuck standing there like a deer in headlights. There is no way you're going to survive this wedding.

_____________________

The reception is when things really kick off, it usually is though isn't it. The reception is held at a party rental hall in town, their house not being ready for so many guests and a large dinner and dancing. You ride with Benny, having to just take a moment and figure out what your next move is with Santiago.

"You and Pope, huh?" Benny says, looking over at you. "When's that happening?"

"What are you talking about?"

"Oh come on anyone with eyes could see you two tryin’ to undress each other up there."

You stifle a noise of protest because you know that if you make a scene about it then Benny will be even nosier. "I have no idea what you're talking about."

"Yeah alright sweetheart." Benny laughs to himself, a quick breathy little chuckle. "If a girl looked at me like that for an hour, we'd be kicking boots in the back of this truck right now."

"You're gross Benny."

"Never said I wasn't." He grins and does a little tongue click. "Pope is a good man, the best I know. Give'em a chance."

"Sure, thanks for the pep talk Benny."

"Anytime sweetheart."

Once you arrive at the reception you immediately run into Santiago. No, literally you smack into him when you step in the doors. He seemed to be on his way outside as you were going in. His familiar spicy cologne flls your nose and your eyes cross for a moment. You know it's him before he speaks, before you see his face.

His hand comes up, steadying you with it on your back. "Easy there, honey."

Honey. Fuck. You're so fucked. "Sorry, I was just trying to go in."

"Mmm. I forgot my phone in the car, I'll be back."

"I'll be seated?" You say awkwardly.

He chuckles and steps away from you. "Go on, don't wait for me."

"I wasn't going to?" You step in and look around for your table. It should be near the front. You look for the names and sure enough there you are right next to... Santiago. "Great."

"Is something wrong?"

You jump and Will chuckles. "No, I'm fine."

"Where'd Pope go?"

"His phone."

Will nods. "Have you seen Benny?"

You shrug. "We drove together but I've no idea where he went. Check the bar?"

"I checked there, I bet he's out back." Will sighs and heads for the emergency exit door that's propped open at the far end of the building.

You take a seat and Santiago returns, sliding behind you and taking his seat next to you. The chairs are close, the table being a little small for the amount of people seated at it. You can feel Santiago's warmth, his scent filling your nose. Oh how you love that cologne. It's one of two he's worn since you met and this one just nails it right on the head. If you knew the brand you would buy it and drown yourself in it.

His hand comes down on your thigh and you feel like the world has stopped and begun to burn around you. It is absolutely no mistake, he knows what he's doing. His fingers flex against the loose fabric of the dress and it falls open a bit along the side split, exposing your skin beneath.

Will stands from the end of your table and taps his glass a few times. He is going to make a speech. Of course, it's Will and he is the best speech giver you've ever met. You try to distract yourself, wondering how many wedding speeches he has given. If you ask him he will know. If you ask him how many of anything he has or does he will know. You smile to yourself, eyes flicking to Santiago. Will is the reason any of this is happening. If he hadn't given Santiago the coordinates to the ravine with Lorea's money, Santiago would have never gone after it, never gifted the wedding fund to Tiia and Frankie.

Santiago's hand shifts and you're acutely aware of its position further up your leg, his pinky finger brushing your tender inner thigh. Should you tell him to stop? He didn't ask to touch you, and you didn't tell him yes or no. Did he need to ask though? Honestly you don't mind aside from the fact that it's driving you crazy. He must know what he is doing to you, how you feel. He has always been physically affectionate with everyone, hugging, cheek kisses, hands on arms and backs. His love language is very obviously touching.

Will begins to wrap up, and you raise your glass with everyone else to toast. Santiago grabs his glass with his non dominant hand, not letting your thigh go. "To many years of love, happiness and joy. Mr. and Mrs. Morales!"

"I'm up next." Santiago says, giving you a squeeze that makes your stomach jump.

You watch him stand and he taps his glass. You have no idea why but your heart is pounding in your chest. His ass is in perfect view, his thighs...oh his thighs. You decide to get a little retribution for the thigh touching and you lay your hand on the back of his leg, just above the bend of his knee. It's not much, just a gentle touch and nowhere near sexual. You're sure he's burning up though.

"Tiia, the day Frankie met you I knew his fate was sealed. I had not once seen my brother so engrossed in a woman than when he talked about you. When you and I finally met, and I saw that red hair of yours, I knew there was something special. Hermana, eres fuego. You have made Frankie a better man, a calmer and more gentle man. Without you I don't know where he would be." Santiago raises his glass higher. "I hope to find a love like yours someday. Cheers to new family, life and a beautiful union!"

Your hand falls from his leg as he sits down and he slides his back over your thigh. "That was a nice speech," you whisper.

"Thank you. I know it wasn't nearly as long and detailed as Will's but I tried." He swipes his thumb back and forth. "Even if I had a little bit of a distraction."

You smile and give him an innocent look.

"Malo..." He mutters softly and tears his gaze from yours to Benny who's standing at the table opposite.

You reach out and run your hand over his shoulder, settling with it on the back of his neck. Your fingers slip into the curls there and he lets out a subtle shaky breath that you don't miss for a second. Two can participate in his game of touches and you're going to play hardball.

Benny makes his speech, short but sweet and meaningful. Tom's wife is up next. Before she stands you make eye contact with Tiia. You could feel her stare before you caught it. She gives a little smirk.

"Honey, you're going to make me fall asleep." Santiago whispers, ducking his head close to you after a minute or two.

"That's not quite my goal."

He slips his hand down your inner thigh and you feel heat swell between your legs. "What is your goal?"

"What is your goal, Santiago."

"I-"

"Thank you everyone for coming and for your well wishes. It means the world to Tiia and I that we're surrounded by so much love." Frankie says and everyone cheers softly. "Let's have dinner and cake!"

"Bride or groom?" Santiago asks, close to your ear.

"H-Huh?"

"The cakes. Bride or groom's cake?" He points to the table with the two cakes on it. "I'll get you a piece."

You try to remember what kind they both are but you're drawing a blank. All you can focus on is Santiago and you feel bad. This day should be about your friends and here you are wetting your fucking pants for Santiago Garcia. Christ.

"Honey?" He purrs and your mouth falls open as he squeezes your thigh. "I'll get one of each."

"Y-yeah. "

Santiago stands and leaves the table. The lack of heat on your leg is a shock. You're still burning up but it's nowhere near as bad as when he's close. Tiia comes over and leans against your table, she grins knowingly at you.

"How's it going over here?"

"Fine? Should it not be?"

"Is he being nice?"

"Santi?"

"Santi?"

You flush and lean your head into your hand. "Santiago. Yes, he's being nice. Why? He is always a sweetheart."

Santiago returns with two plates of cake and sets them on the table. He grabs Tiia's cheek and gives her a kiss to the temple. "Hermana."

"Problema." Tiia giggles and Santiago rolls his eyes.

"I am not trouble." He takes his seat beside you and gives a pointed look at Frankie nearby laughing with Will and Benny. "Hay problema."

Tiia pushes Santiago's head and he laughs. "Frankie is not trouble! He's a good boy."

"Mmmm." Santiago says, raising his eyebrows. "Good boys don't have the most fun." He catches your gaze and winks.

"You're insufferable. Enjoy the cake, lovely." Tiia says to you and heads off to meet her new husband.

Santiago dips his fork into the slice of white and yellow frosted cake, the bride's cake, and brings it up to your lips. "Try it?"

"I can feed myself," you giggle and he bumps the frosted bit against your lips. You open and take the cake in. It's delicious and you remember now. It's an apple spiced white cake with caramel cream center.

"Good?" He asks, cutting a bit for himself. "Oh wow that's amazing."

You nod and reach for your own fork but Santiago pushes it away. "Hey-"

"I got it." He smirks, cutting a slice of the groom's cake. Chocolate with butter rum filling. "Open up."

"Give me my fork, Santiago."

He shakes his head and you reach for it. He knocks your hand away and holds your wrist loosely. "Ah, I said open up."

"Santi..."

His eyes go darker than you've ever seen and you imagine they must be lust filled to be so heavy. "Open up." He says once more, but this time with more authority.

You open your mouth obediently and he presses the fork down gently to your tongue as he slides it out. "Mmmm."

"Better than the last one?" He asks, cutting another piece and holding it up for you. You take it in as well and he smiles.

This is far too intimate. What the fuck are you doing? You're not even together, you're not dating, neither of you have explicitly said this was happening. Not to mention you're at your friend's wedding, in front of people and he's... he's driving you insane.

"Excuse me." You mutter softly, pushing away from the table and leaving a very confused Santiago behind. You head for the emergency exit and take a deep breath of the cool spring air as you step outside. You need to breathe.

___________________

Minutes tick by as you sit on the fence post that blocks a patio area from the parking lot. You figured Santiago would have come for you by now, but you didn't expect it. He's too sweet to impede upon your personal space when he knows you definitely needed it because of his actions. Footsteps behind you draw your attention away from the passing traffic on the road nearby. It's Will.

"What're you doing out here all alone?"

"Getting some fresh air."

"I can understand that." Will takes a seat next to you. "I saw you head out here earlier. I figured I'd give you a little bit before coming to check on you."

"Thanks. Am I missing anything?"

"Tiia is going to throw the bouquet soon. Do you want to catch it?"

You laugh softly to yourself. Do you want to? Do you want to be the next friend to marry? You're the only one not married besides Benny. The rest of the guests are family or friends who are married. "Maybe Benny should give it a try."

Will snorts and you laugh at the sound. "You'd need tempered steel to tie that man down. He's too wild, too free to settle down."

"Yeah, Benny is...Benny."

Will taps your arm with the back of his hand. "C'mon, let's go see who gets the bouquet."

"Alright." You slide off the fence and head back into the hall with Will.

Inside you see a crowd of people near the bride and grooms table. Tiia has her back to the crowd and you watch as she swings the bundle of flowers backwards. There is a collective gasp and you strain to see who caught the flowers.

As the crowd clears you see Santiago standing there with the bouquet. He's laughing, saying something to Frankie's aunt nearby and then he sees you. Your heart races. He gestures for you to come to him.

"Why did you-"

"For you." He holds the bouquet up and kisses your cheek. "I thought you might want them."

"Thank you. They're pretty."

"Are you okay?"

"Huh? Yeah, why- oh. When I went outside. I'm sorry, I didn't mean to just run out on you." You lick your lips and look down from his gaze. "I just needed some air."

Santiago cups your cheek. "Hey, look at me."

You look at him and it's a mistake. Your heart pounds, threatening to break through your ribs. "Yes?"  

He leans in whispers, "Did I go too far earlier?"

"The cake?"

He nods.

"It was unexpected, but no." You can feel a flush rising in your chest. "I mean you've always been affectionate but we haven't really...talked about it."

Santiago chuckles softly. "I suppose we haven't. It's always been there but we've never acknowledged it. Are you uncomfortable? I know I'm a few years older and-"

"Santiago."

"Yes?"

"We're in the middle of a wedding. Maybe we should discuss this later? More privately?" You look around at the crowd that's pretty much dispersed.

He cracks a sheepish smile and tucks a bit of hair behind your ear, gliding his fingertips along your cheek before bumping your lip with his thumb. "Mas tarde, cariña," he murmurs.

You lick your lip where he touched and he doesn't miss it, eyes snapping to your mouth. "You know that I know limited Spanish."

"I said we'll talk later." He puts his arm around you and guides you toward your table. "Let's clear the way for the married couple's first dance."

_____________________

The first dance doesn't happen right away. The removal of the garter happens first. For those unfamiliar, it's like the tossing of the bouquet but generally for the men. The husband removes his wife's garter, a thin band of fabric worn around the thigh, and tosses it to the crowd. The one who catches it is said to be the next to marry. It's a symbol of good luck.

You watch as Tiia takes a seat in a chair brought out to the center floor. She is bright pink and you can't help but laugh a little. Frankie comes around the chair, taking her hand and kissing it gently. He says something you can't make out, but Tiia smiles.

"Come on Frankie!" Benny hollers.

"Oh be quiet Benny!" Frankie quips, flipping off his friend. "Not like you want it!"

"The hell I don't!"

Everyone laughs.

Santiago's hand slides over your knee, pushing the dress aside and allowing it to fall open. He can't keep his hands off of you it seems.

Frankie kneels down and pushes Tiia's dress up to expose her legs.

Santiago's hand inches up your leg, massaging his fingertips tenderly into the soft skin. You spare him a glance and his focus seems to be on the married couple like everyone else.

Frankie leans in and grabs the garter with his teeth and the guests cheer him on. You attempt to clap but your brain is elsewhere, short circuiting on the arousal nerves between your legs.

"Do you want it?" Santiago purrs in your ear and you shiver. Why did that have to sound like such a loaded question. Do you want what? Him? The garter? His attention?

"W-what?"

"The garter."

You turn your head to look at him and reply when suddenly you're smacked in the face with something. You jump, startled by the sudden sensation, and look down at the table where the white garter is sitting on it.

Somewhere Benny is hollering wildly, and Frankie says something along the lines of how you're the lucky lady. You don't hear it really because Santiago grabs the garter and rubs it between his fingers, smiling at you playfully. His other hand is still on your leg, farther up and dangerously close to your underwear.

"I'd love to see you in this." He says, fingers flexing on your skin. "And nothing else."

"Santiago!" You whisper sharply and he leans in close.

His lips meet yours and your heart stops. The world stops. His hand leaves your thigh and slides around to your hip, the other cradles your head, angling your face for better access.

It's like years of tension have finally broken and now it's coming out like breach in a dam. You reach for him, not sure what to grab but you land on his hair and his shoulder. He deepens the kiss, tongue pushing past your lips to roll against yours. He tastes like minty gum and you can't get enough.

He grips your hips with both hands and hauls you over onto his lap. The chair creaks under the weight of two bodies. You can't care, this is a dream come true. You don't want to stop kissing him because if you do, it feels like it might never happen again.

"Baby," Santiago groans into your mouth as you roll your hips down against his lap, desperate for some release. "Baby we gotta stop."

"No," you lick into his mouth desperately and he chases your lips, biting gently to slow you down.

His hand finds your hair and grips firmly, pulling you back. "Listen to me."

You stare at him, eyes locked on to his. They're so full of promises of what's to come. He looks as wrecked as you do, you're sure. "Yes?"

He grins slowly, leaning in for a soft kiss. "God you're beautiful like this."

You try to return the kiss, chasing his lips as he pulls back but his grip in your hair is firm.

"We're still at the wedding." He says softly. "I don't think we should be grinding on each other in such a public setting."

You lean back, settling yourself back on his thighs. Reality comes creeping in, a cold rush of embarrassment rising up your spine. He's right. You're at the wedding still, everyone can see you right now. You got so caught up in the euphoria that you forgot where you were.

"Santiago, you son of a bitch." Benny says from behind you. "You finally did it."

You turn and look back while Santiago leans over to see Benny. "Go away."

"Oh I will, I'll leave you two to face suck like teenagers. I just wanted to say it's about time. How was it?"

"Benny." Santiago says warningly.

You look between the two of them. "How was the kiss?"

Benny nods.

"Good, really good? Why?"

Santiago groans.

"Do you know why we call him Pope?" Benny asks and you shake your head. "It's because he brings you closer to God when he gets his hands on you."

"Benny! Fuck off!" Santiago shouts and throws a fork on the table at him. Benny dodges the projectile and runs off laughing. "God damn menace."

You run your hand through his curls, brushing your thumb over a little spot of grays peeking through. "Is that true?"

"Is what true? The Pope thing?"

"Yeah. Is that why they call you Pope?"

Santiago smiles softly. "It is. It's stupid and childish but-"

"I like it." You slide off his lap and lean in close to his ear. "You took me closer to God with a kiss, I can only imagine what more will be like." You grab his hand and before he can respond you step back, pulling his arm up. "Dance with me?"

_____________________

You and Santiago dance for a long time, slow and sweet. After about the tenth song he kisses your temple and says he needs to take a seat, his knees are killing him. You part from him and he goes to sit with Will and Frankie who are near the bar. You turn and head to the bride and grooms table to sit with Tiia.

"Hey you," Tiia says with a playful smirk. "I thought you were gonna get eaten alive earlier."

"I'm sorry." You sink down into Frankie's chair and she laughs. "I just lost my mind for a few minutes there. Was everyone staring?"

"No, everyone got up to dance and get food from the buffett. I noticed, obviously, because I've been watching you all night."

"Creepy."

Tiia pushes your shoulder. "Oh shut up. I set you up, but I never could have guessed this outcome."

"You set me up?"

"Yeah? I picked Santiago to be your best man. I knew the two of you have had chemistry since you met. I just gave you a little nudge in the right direction." She looks smug as she takes a sip of her wine. "You're welcome."

"You're a troublemaker."

"Matchmaker, thank you."

You roll your eyes. "Maybe too good of a match maker. I sucked face while you had your first dance."

She laughs, nearly spitting out her wine. "I don't need everyone to watch me dance with my husband to validate our marriage. You're my best friend, the fact that you are just as happy on my wedding day as I am, that means the world to me. You deserve a good man, and Santiago is a very good man."

"You really aren't mad I didn't pay attention?"

"Nope, because I can guarantee you I'll be all over Frankie at your wedding."

"My wedding? Yeah we'll be in our sixties before that happens." You pick at a spot on the front of your dress, directing your focus elsewhere in hopes of ending this conversation. "No one wants to marry me."

Tiia kicks you. "Bullshit. If you asked Santiago right now to run away and get married at a little chapel in Vegas he'd say yes."

"No he wouldn't. He's not reckless."

"Yes, he is. When it comes to you there is nothing he wouldn't do."

"Whatever."

"Whatever," she says mockingly. "Do you have any idea what he has told Frankie?"

You narrow your eyes. "You're lying."

"Have I ever lied to you?"

"Once. A birthday present that I figured out."

Tiia rolls her eyes. "That doesn't count."

"Why would Frankie tell you about what he and Santiago discuss?"

"Because I'm nosey and I ask. Plus, you're my best friend and you two have obvious chemistry."

"So what did he say?"

Tiia points to Santiago as he makes his way across the room. "Why don't you ask him yourself?"

"Tiia!"

"What's my two favorite women chatting about huh?" Santiago smiles and hands you a glass.

You look down into the glass. You can't drink today, you're Benny's designated driver.

"It's non alcoholic, don't worry."

"Thank you."

"She doesn't need alcohol to get a little crazy." Tiia teases, elbowing you from her seat. "She has a better drug, right Pope?"

Santiago chuckles. "You're never going to let us live that moment down huh?"

"Never. I was surprised you didn't just take her to the bathroom."

"Tiia!" You shove her and she cackles. "God!"

"I'm teasing you. Seriously, if you guys wanna get out of here and have a little fun I'll get someone to take Benny home." Tiia looks across the way at the table where Benny is telling some animated story. "Or he can sleep on the couch at me and Frankie's house. We'll drop him off before we go to the hotel."

Santiago shakes his head. "I'm not stepping out on your wedding, and I'm sorry for the behavior earlier. It's not the right time or place."

"You two are a match. She said the same thing when she came over. I'm not mad, I'm happy you're happy." Tiia stands and walks around the table to stand before Santiago. She lays a hand on his cheek before giving it a hard pat. "Problema."

"Un poco."

"Oh no you're big trouble, not little trouble." She says and shoves his head back playfully. "Go, make my girl happy."

Santiago smiles and kisses her forehead. "You heard the lady." He offers his hand to you. "Can I take you home?"

"One more dance?"

"I think I can manage that."

You follow Santiago out onto the dancefloor, hand in his as he lays his other on your waist. A slow song comes on, one you've heard a few times on the radio but never paid much attention to.

"I'm sorry about earlier." He says softly out of nowhere.

"I'm just as much to blame."

"I just got a little ahead of myself, like Benny said, I felt like a horny teenager."

You giggle and lean your head on his shoulder. "It's been a while, and we built this tension to a boiling point. We were bound to snap someday."

Santiago runs his hand up your back and cradles your neck loosely. "Have I told you how beautiful you are tonight?"

"Yes, but I don't mind hearing it again."

He drops his head to your ear and places a little kiss on the outer shell. "You'd look even more beautiful in my bedroom."

A hot flush warms your cheeks. "Santi...cool it."

"I can't help it." He grins and you hear rather than see it. "I just want to eat you up."

"We can stay a bit longer." You kiss his throat and he lets out a quiet groan that you relish in, grinning big ear to ear against his skin. "It'll do you good to wait. You'll want it more."

_____________________

The sound of a cell phone ringing rips you from a deep sleep. It's unfamiliar, not your ringtone but shrill and annoying nonetheless. The room is bright, the sun shining through the cream colored blinds and past the sheer curtains. Everything is familiar but like you had seen it in a dream, nothing was quite the same as you remember. You sit up and look around. Yes. It's the same as last night, the lighting makes things look different is all.

"Make it stop," Santiago groans from beside you.

"I don't know where it is." You pat around the blankets, trying to find the source of noise. "It's your phone."

"Fuck." He sits up and you get a full view of his strong, bare back in the bright daylight. There are a few scars, but one big one just behind his shoulder gets your attention. It looks strange, like a paint splatter of pink skin against his tan complexion.

You reach out to touch the scar, trace it curiously. What on Earth made a scar like that. "Santi?"

"Just a minute baby." He leans over and your hand falls to the bed. He comes back up with the phone in hand and swipes the screen to deny the call.

You lay back and he crawls under the covers beside you.

"Now, good morning." He grins, touching your nose and you sniffle. "I hope you're not too sore."

"Me?" You giggle, rolling to face him head on. "I'd be more worried about you."

Santiago chuckles. "Because of my knees?"

"Yeah and your back." You slide your hand over his shoulder and explore the scar with your fingertips. "What's this one from?"

"Do you really want to know?"

"Mmhmm."

"A bullet." He takes your hand away and threads his fingers between yours. "A sniper when I was twenty seven. We were on a mission somewhere in the Ukraine. I was in the wrong place at the wrong time and boom." He chuckles softly. "It went straight through. I suppose I'm lucky, they were clearly aiming for something more vital and missed."

You play with his fingers and he watches. What do you say? Sorry? Wow? You know Santiago and the guys are ex military special forces. You know they all have their scars and close call stories. You've heard the others tell them over and over but Santiago...he has always been quiet.

"It's a lot to take in." He murmurs, bringing your knuckles up to kiss.

You laugh softly, more to yourself than anything. "I broke my leg falling out of a tree once."

Santiago chuckles. "Bet that hurt." He kisses your knuckles again and lets his lips linger. "It's okay if you're not sure how to respond."

"Thank you," you mutter sheepishly.

His phone starts ringing again and he sighs. He rolls over and grabs it, bringing it back to lay between the two of you. "It's Frankie."

"Answer it."

"Should I? You don't mind?"

You shake your head. "He might need you."

Santiago swipes to answer and presses the phone to his ear. "Buenos dias pendejo."

You smile and he gives you a cheeky grin. That's a little bit of Spanish you do know. "Be nice."

He mouths a quick, 'No' before speaking again. "Why are you calling me after your wedding night? Shouldn't you and Tiia be sleeping? I didn't give you that money to wake me up at the crack of dawn when you're meant to be boarding a plane to Hawaii for your honeymoon in a few hours."

"Hawaii sounds good." You snuggle down into the blankets, imagining the warm sun on your body.

"Yes she's fine." Santiago chuckles softly. "Did you want to talk to her?"

You raise your eyebrows and he gives you a wink.

"Here you go." He passes you the phone and you press it to your ear.

"Hello?"

"Did that dick make you stupid?" Tiia asks through a laugh.

"Shut up!" You laugh, rolling over onto your back. Santiago's arm snakes across your waist and he pulls you close, face in your shoulder. "I'll hang up on you."

"Really though, did you guys have a good night? I just wanted Frankie to call and make sure you got home okay."

"Yes, we got home okay. It was a good night."

Santiago hums against your skin, biting playfully at your jaw. "It could be a better morning."

"Which one of you said I love you first?"

"Tiia."

"I know it happened."

"Goodbye Tiia, I'm hanging up now."

"Oh you-"

You toss the phone into the pillows and close your eyes. Santiago lazily kisses your neck, his short beard giving you a bit of a burn on your shoulder.

"It was me." He whispers between kisses.

"Hmm?"

"I said it first."

"You could hear her?" You shift around and lay so you're face to face agan.

He nods. “Do you remember?"

"Mmm. You said I love you, mallma?"

He presses a kiss to your lips. "It's mi alma. Do you want to know what that means?"

"Yes."

"It means, my soul." He runs a hand through your hair and brings you close for another kiss. "It's a pet name for someone you really care deeply for."

You grip his back and press your forehead to his. You give a sheepish smile. "How do you say I love you again?"

"Te amo."

"Te amo, Santiago."

He grins and chuckles softly. "We'll work on the accent."

"Good thing I have the best teacher."

"Yes you do."

"Until then," You tuck your face into his neck and he threads a hand in your hair. "I love you."

"I love you too."

End

-----------

Header by delicate-venus 

Dedication: To delicate-venus, because you let me write your dream wedding for you with your dream man as inspiration for this fic. 

-----------

*****Note: none of my works should be posted anywhere outside of my linked accounts. I do not give permission to repost with or without credit to my accounts. Please notify me of any reposted works.*****

#santiago garcia #santiago pope garcia #triple frontier #triple frontier fic #triple frontier fan fic #triple frontier imagine #triple frontier santiago garcia #frankie catfish morales #frankie morales #fransisco catfish morales #sanitago garcia x reader #fic #fanfic

[guardianofrivendell]

The Way to a Hobbit’s Heart

Thorin Oakenshield x Bilbo Baggins (Bagginshield)

Requested: Yes and no! This piece is part of “The Hobbit Discord Server’s Holiday Gift Exchange 2020″ and is my gift to @misfit-with-a-pen​ 💖

Warnings: oh my goodness, all the fluff! I can’t! Also Sassy Bilbo because it’s still me who wrote this :) 

Summary: When Bilbo enjoys a nice afternoon walk in the Shire, he notices a smell... A rather foul smell, if he was honest. When he comes closer to his home, the smell seems to intensify. It couldn't come from his house now, could it? Because Thorin was home.... Alone. Oh dear!

A/N: This story couldn’t exist without the help of @xxbyimm​! She is such an amazing and fantastic person and always ready to listen to me rant about ideas, complaining about everything and gave me TONS of advice on top of that. How wonderful is that?

Bilbo always favored late afternoon walks over morning strolls.

Though he knew most of his neighbors wouldn’t agree with him and probably would think of him as even more peculiar than they already did if they knew, he just couldn’t help himself. 

You see, it was the way the sun hung low in the sky, giving everything it shone upon a warm golden glow. Furthermore, as most of the hobbit community was too occupied prepping the most important meals of the day, the town was practically deserted.

This meant Bilbo could enjoy the beautiful sceneries in peace without having to get involved in friendly banter and polite greetings. And finally - the temperature was nor too warm or too cold, which was just perfect. 

But there was nothing better than an afternoon walk in early spring. Birds were building their nest, flying past his head with twigs in their little beaks. 

It reminded him of that one time a thrush had landed on Lobelia’s straw hat and had absolutely wrecked the damn thing. It took her a while to notice and Bilbo had had the greatest difficulty in keeping a straight face. She went running through the Shire afterwards, screaming about a vicious bird attack. Since that day he couldn’t help but snicker every time he saw a thrush.

Yes, Bilbo loved his walks indeed. But he loved his home just as much.

It wouldn’t be long before any respectable Hobbit started working in their garden again after the winter break and every yard and patio would get overflowed with a soft and subtly sweet flowery scent. It wasn’t any different in his garden. 

The flower buds of the early bloomers were starting to show, some of them already in their lovely, bright colours. Just a few more days and he could bury his nose in the daffodils, tulips or primroses, taking in their flowery scent.  It was a moment Bilbo looked forward to every single year, but now he could finally share it with his husband Thorin. 

To everyone’s surprise, this grumpy dwarf had warmed up to the art of gardening. Under Bilbo’s patient supervision, they were able to turn their neglected patch of land into the beautiful garden it was today.  

Bilbo smiled to himself at the thought of his husband. He came a long way to get here... Both of them did. Literally and figuratively. 

Thorin had been under a lot of stress for a long time without barely any chance to breathe: the rebuilding of Erebor, restoring trade agreements, bringing his people back to the mountain, … It never stopped and he was close to getting a burn-out.

Bilbo had seen it coming from miles away and had raised the alarm on Thorin’s health. Bilbo’s home in the Shire proved to be the perfect place to get a much needed break from ruling a Kingdom.  

The mountain was in good hands with Fíli and Kíli as his advisor - Balin was still there to keep an eye on them - and the peace and quiet of the Shire was wearing off on Thorin. He was finally able to relax and enjoy the time with Bilbo.Even so, they couldn’t stay away forever and they’d made plans to return to the mountain before the annual Durin’s Day celebration.  

That didn’t mean they couldn’t enjoy the time that was still left.

Bilbo continued his way on the path that would eventually lead him back to his home, he stopped when he smelled something odd. He sniffed a few times, tilting his head sideways. What in the…?  

Bilbo couldn’t tell what the smell reminded him of, and yet it somehow seemed familiar. Was Lobelia trying to burn down her house again with another attempt at copying his famous rabbit stew? 

The closer he got to his home, the stronger the scent became. It couldn’t come from his house now, could it? Thorin was home so nothing serious could have happened.

Bilbo’s eyes widened.  

Thorin was home… alone.  

“Oh dear,” he murmured.

Thorin was not yet entirely used to living like a hobbit, still adjusting to life in the Shire. The more delicate, joie-de-vivre way of life that suited the hobbits didn’t always go well with the sturdy, rather head-on approach and maybe a tad brute way of the Dwarrows. He definitely wasn’t the domestic type. Yet.

Bilbo hurried up the lane to his front yard, struggled to open the gate in his haste and made his way inside. When the door closed behind him, it felt like someone had slapped him in the face.

Oh yeah, the smell definitely came out of his house. He coughed a few times, and his eyes started to water. He completely missed the leftover trails of smoke near the ceiling, and that was maybe for the better. 

“Thorin?” he squeaked between coughs. “Love?”

No answer. Was he even here? And what was that pungent smell? It almost smelled like an onion died a painful death and was left to rot! But with added spices. Now he almost wished it was Lobelia’s cooking instead... 

He left the entrance hall and stepped further into their home, making his way to the study. If Thorin was home, he would probably be there. Bilbo hoped to find his other half hunched over a book, or too focused on writing a letter to his nephews to hear his calls. Not that he didn’t trust Thorin to find his way back home on his own… okay fine, maybe he didn’t.  

Before he reached the study, his eye fell on the pantry. A rare curse escaped his mouth.

Empty jars, most of them tipped over, crumbs and pieces of vegetables on the ground together with a puddle of liquid that Bilbo wasn’t too keen on investigating further. 

He stood frozen in the round doorway. What had happened? 

Flashbacks of that one fateful night when the company had barged in - uninvited might he add - and raided his kitchen and pantry flooded his mind.

Could they...?

No, he shook his head. It was too quiet for the company to be here. Plus Thorin would have mentioned it. There were no secrets between them. Not anymore.  

He crossed the hallway and entered his kitchen. Or rather, what was left of it.

If he thought his pantry was raided, it was nothing in comparison to his kitchen. There were dirty pots and pans all over the place, as if the dishes hadn’t been done in weeks. Most of the cabinets were opened, the contents of the shelves in disarray or scattered over the counter. A lot of food made it to the floor as well, and it seemed like someone had tried to clean it up by shoving it to one side of the kitchen.  

It looked like Thorin had tried to make something for dinner. Or a snack maybe? At least, he hoped it was Thorin who wrecked the kitchen. Because there wasn’t a single hair on his feet that would even consider cleaning this up himself! 

“Thorin, I really do love you but you got to learn to clean up after yourself,” Bilbo muttered in frustration when he picked up a dirty kitchen rag from the floor. 

“I’ll keep that in mind,” a low voice sounded behind him.  

Bilbo swirled around and he forgot to breathe for a second.

There, in the doorway of the dining room, stood Thorin in just his dark blue tunic and black breeches, barefoot and an apron tied around his hips. A towel carelessly thrown over his shoulder and a casserole in his hands made it look like he belonged in a kitchen. But Bilbo knew better. 

The dwarf himself looked like a complete snack. If it wasn’t for the state of the kitchen and the foul smell still filling his nostrils, he would’ve jumped him without a second thought.

No, scratch the snack! His husband was a full five course meal. Bilbo took a deep breath. And by Durin’s beard, was he hungry... 

Thorin lifted the pot a little. Bilbo stepped out of the way so he could pass.

“It just needs a little more time on the fire.”

It didn’t. It really, really didn’t. 

That became abundantly clear when Thorin lifted the lid so he could stir in what looked like stew, and Bilbo had to grab the counter to steady himself.

Oh, well, at least now I know where that smell comes from, he thought. Breathe through your mouth, that’s the key! 

“You know, if you didn’t like my cooking, you could’ve just told me,” Bilbo joked while he took the pot off the fire again in an effort to save what could be saved, but not before he put the lid back on. “I think this is done, love.”

“Are you sure?” Thorin chuckled. The sound reverberated in his chest and it made Bilbo’s stomach flip. It was one of his favourite sounds and it still did something to him every time he heard it. 

“I wanted to repay you for taking such good care of me,” he said. “So I made us dinner.”

“You did?” Bilbo asked, endeared by the gesture but honestly, also a little afraid for his life by now. “Marvellous!”

“Go and take a seat at the table, I’ll be right there,” Thorin hummed and he gestured towards the dining room.  

Thorin came out of the kitchen and placed the pot in the middle of the table and wiped his hands on the apron. His eyes fell on Bilbo who still stood a bit to the side.  

When he entered the dining room Bilbo froze, stunned by what he saw. 

Thorin had set the table beautifully and had paid extra attention to details, the way Bilbo liked. Freshly picked flowers from their garden stood proudly in a white porcelain vase, napkins neatly folded on the right side of the plate and he had used Bilbo’s mother’s pottery. He really went out of his way for this. 

“Is it not to your liking?” Thorin asked, a slight tremble in his voice. “If it’s about the mess in the kitchen, I promise I’ll clean it up later.”

He was nervous, Bilbo realised when he looked at Thorin. The King under the Mountain who could face multiple armies with only twelve companions without a second thought or hint of fear was almost shaking with nerves because he had made dinner for his lover. It was adorable.  

“It’s lovely, Thorin. Really, it is,” he assured him, while Thorin pulled a chair from under the table so Bilbo could sit down. “I didn’t expect it, that’s all.” 

Thorin quickly made his way to the other side of the table and filled the mugs with ale and the glasses with wine. Bilbo however, eyed the food on the table cautiously. 

To be fair, from a distance it looked decent. There were carrots, mashed potatoes, other vegetables that he couldn’t quite name at first sight but seemed okay, bread,… And the pot of stew. On the corner of the table stood a bowl of what he suspected was some kind of gravy, but the chunks in it made him doubtful. 

He took some of everything on his plate and tried to keep it together when the aroma of the stew filled his nostrils once more.

Thorin looked at him expectantly. 

The things one does for the one they love, Bilbo thought while he took a deep breath and tried the stew. Oh dear, it tasted exactly like it smelled!

He tried to swallow it as fast as he could without a lot of chewing. His hand flew to his glass of wine and with a large gulp of the red substance his food finally went down.  

“Is there something wrong?”

“No! No, it’s… well, it’s a little hot,” he explained. That wasn’t exactly a lie. 

He tried to find the correct words to let him know cooking maybe wasn’t his strong point, but decided to change the subject instead. “Have you heard from Fíli yet?”

Thorin shook his head.  “I did not. It hasn’t been that long since I sent my last letter. Give him some time.”

He took a sip from his glass of wine. “But tell me about your afternoon, did you enjoy your walk?” 

Bilbo was relieved he could talk for a while - and avoid taking another bite - and told Thorin about his walk and how he was planning on asking old master Worrywort what he did to his wood poppies to get them so big and bright.

While he was listening intently, Thorin took a first bite of his homemade stew.

The minute he closed his mouth, his eyes widened and he almost choked on the meat. He let his fork drop on the plate with a loud clatter, a fist against his lips while he tried really hard to swallow the food.

Bilbo didn’t know whether to laugh or feel sorry for him. He decided on a neutral expression, like it was the most normal thing in the world for a person to choke on a spoonful of stew.  

Thorin brought the napkin to his mouth and wiped the tears out of his eyes, still panting from the effort.

“Mahal, why didn’t you say anything?” he groaned.

Bilbo eyed him carefully, not wanting to hurt Thorin’s feelings. He worked so hard to prepare all this, well, you couldn’t exactly call it food…

“About what?” he tried, gathering his courage and taking another spoonful. 

“The food! I saw you eat it!” Thorin murmured, his face distorting in absolute horror as he watched his husband trying his best to process another bite.

“Please don’t. I can’t believe you want to take another bite!” 

“You made this for me, of course I’m going to eat it,” Bilbo said, smiling at him. Please don’t make me eat it again, Bilbo pleaded internally. 

“To be honest, I don’t even think Bombur would touch this,” Bilbo added.

“That bad, huh?” he laughed. “Who am I kidding, of course it is, I tasted it. I still taste it!”

He took his mug of ale and chugged it down in one go. When he placed it on the table again with a thud, his expression had changed into defeat.

“I know you love your meals and this isn’t…” he rose from his chair. “This is not a meal worthy of any hobbit, let alone Bilbo Baggins.”

With the majesty only a true dwarven king can muster, Thorin strode from the dining room towards the kitchen. Bilbo shuffled in his seat, pondering what had happened before hurrying behind his One.

The sight that greeted him made his heart clench. Thorin had started cleaning up the mess, his back to the door, head low and shoulders slumped. Bilbo could see he was distraught and clearly wounded in his pride. 

In a few strides Bilbo stood behind his husband and threw his arms around him, giving a little squeeze.

”Don’t you ever think what you do isn’t enough. The fact that you went through all this trouble for me, means more to me than you’ll ever know,” Bilbo mumbled into Thorin’s neck before he placed a featherlight kiss there, which elicited a groan out of the King’s chest.

Thorin turned around and wanted to return the favor, but Bilbo stopped him. 

“No, no, no, Thorin. First we need to clean up this mess. I’ll help you.”

After an hour of cleaning, they sat on a spotless kitchen floor, looking over their work proudly.

“We make a great team, you and me,” Thorin said.

Bilbo rested his head on Thorin’s shoulder and sighed contentedly.

“Can you promise me one thing though?”

“What’s that?” Thorin wondered.

“Please leave the cooking to me?”

Permanent taglist: @roosliefje​ @kata1803​ @entishramblings​ @artsywaterlily​ @sleepy-daydream-in-a-rose​ @marvelschriss​ @kumqu4t​ @myrin1234​ @dark-angel-is-back​ @the-fandoms-georgie​ @lathalea​ @xxbyimm​ @sokkasdarling​ @katethewriter​

#The Hobbit Discord Server's Holiday Gift Exchange 2020 #Thorin Oakenshield x Bilbo Baggins #Bagginshield #Bagginshield fic #Bagginshield fanfiction #Thorin Oakenshield fanfiction #Bilbo Baggins fanfiction #The Hobbit Imagine #Thorin Oakenshield #Bilbo Baggins #The Hobbit