#rest easy uncle. you were a wonderful man.

[ziipzeepzop-eez]

S'much as I hate funerals, virtual or in person, I'm grateful for the opportunity to see you off.

The losses may be plentiful, but if there's one thing it taught me: it's strength.

Avoidance? Repression? Numbness? A foreign body giving themselves to protect their own.

How much longer will it hurt? It hurts and hurts until it can't anymore. Then, when you feel coherent again, it slams into your side. Your blind side.

Maybe all these things. But I feel strong and coherent right now, if only a little dead, a little broken, a little stop hurting me please inside.

Bless you. Thank you.

I love you.

(I'm sorry we couldn't be there, uncle. Rest gently. We'll honor you the same way you honored our clan.)

[bunnys-kisses]

lust is a loaded hand gun

max verstappen

cw: smut/pwp, ferrari!reader, baby fever, seduction, cowgirl position, alcohol/drinking, breeding, the reader wants to have a baby and chooses to have it with max, max is not aware

this bunny runs on comments & reblogs! feed the rabbit!

part 2: love is a kick to the stomach

this sounded stupid. but you wanted a baby. and while that was an easy task for most women, you knew that there was something impersonal about picking from a catalogue. reading profiles felt weird, like you were looking for a used car rather than the biological other half of your child. even if you'd raise them without a father, you'd rather have a night of passion than an awkward doctor's visit.

charles leaned back in his seat and asked, "why don't you and i just make one." he shrugged his shoulders. he considered himself close to you. you had been teammates for a little over two seasons and prior to that you knew each other. he didn't mind being the one to help you bring a child into the world, "i can be his uncle and he'd never know."

but, as close as you were to your teammate. you had other drivers in mind.

you made a face, "no offense, charles. but it would feel like doing it with my brother." being teammates meant you two knew too much about one another. you worked well as teammates and rivals because you were more like siblings. while you appreciated the offer, you felt it was weird.

charles asked, relaxed in his seat, "why are you doing this anyway? isn't there a million ways for you to have a child."

you shrugged, "i want to be a mom, i don't know. leave my seat behind to another woman and let her make all the history. i'm honestly tired. i've reached the peak and now." you sighed, "i want something else. i've got enough money to retire and let my future child retire before they're born." you crossed your arms, "i don't want to be doing this shit until i'm forty and just degrade in the skills department. end on a high note." while it was not an insult to other driver's on the grid. you felt bad that they never got to really be parents due to the schedules.

"so you need to seduce a driver to make that happen."

you nodded, out of the corner of your eye you spotted the driver you had your eye on. while you eyed the man crossing your path, your voice got softer, "and i think i know just the driver."

charles looked over to the direction you were looking at. he noticed who was walking by and he looked back to you, shoulders dropped, "max. you're going to seduce and have a child with max?"

you looked back to charles and shrugged, "why not? what's not to like?" max wasn't a perfect man, sometimes you wondered about the mechanics of his brain. but, you knew your child with him would lay waste to the track in the future.

"i can name a few. do you want them alphabetically or severity of it?" charles asked.

you gave him a look, "it wouldn't be hard to get him to sleep with me. you, me and the rest of the garage has seen how he looks at me. i mean who else do i have to choose from? either they're too old, they're rookies, or they have girlfriends. and i'm not getting a heel in the eye because i'm trying to have a baby."

charles rubbed the bridge of his nose, "i think you just like him."

you tensed up for a moment, "no. this is all just simple. scheming... nothing more. i don't expect to trap him with a child. he is free to live his life after i'm done with him."

charles found it hard to believe. not on your end, but max's. he had heard at sickeningly lengths about how max felt for you. it was probably the most eloquent the driver had ever been. if you got pregnant by him, he'd be getting a ring the next day. he sighed once more, "then have fun with the wold champion. i'd say to be safe, but i think being unsafe is the whole point of this."

you gave the once over of max in the near distance and smiled, "don't worry charles, you'll get all the details in the morning." which earned a groan from your teammate.

-

it started over a bottle of wine and ended in the motor home of red bull. you and max had gotten frisky over the evening. you wondered if anyone was selling the photos of you two in the back of the restaurant to tmz or some other trashy outlet. you had shared two bottles of wine over dinner. the benefit of being as wealthy as you were, you could throw the cash onto the table and giggle as you stumble out of your place.

you knew someone had a photo of max kissing you at the table to 'taste' the sauce that came with your meal. as if he couldn't take some from the plate.

but back in the motor home, you had dropped your purse by the door. in the dark of the place, you two were starting to get undressed. heels kicked to the wall, your bracelets set on the coffee table. your dress was on the floor by the bed, your bra over the lamp by the bed and your panties on the bed.

"i'm on top." you said as you kissed max's lips. he tasted like wine and fine dining. he tasted and smelled expensive. in all fairness he could be worth more than a micro nation. he was not an easy man to buy, but the currency of sex was in high demand. max wanted you, and you knew that because he got on his back without much argument.

you were both naked on the bed. the faint lights gleamed through the large windows as you rubbed up against max with no other lighting. you could see his face against the shadows of the night. his blue eyes were like gems and they pulled you in. whoever he ended up with would be very lucky.

but tonight you needed him. he was an important piece in your plan. you rubbed against him and with a little help, you sank down onto his cock. while cowgirl wasn't the best position to try and get pregnant, but it ensured that your plan would work. any position is a working one.

"you're beautiful."

"i know." you said as you rubbed yourself against him. you braced your hands on his strong chest. he was a handsome man, he was good at what he did and he was a winner. you knew anyone would be lucky to have him, but tonight was the perfect partner. you knew a child with him would be perfect.

you continued to rub up against him. the roll of your hips were methodical. this wasn't the first time you slept with a man. you moaned when max groped your breasts, massaged the flesh between those bear paws he called hands. soon you sank on his cock and shuddered, feeling the heat raise in your belly.

this was a mission, no time to get attached. you were both tipsy from the alcohol and the driver under you were more handsy than ever. you try not to feel the emotions that came with it. the feeling of being attached to someone you were having sex with. you batted charles' assumptions about your feelings for max out of your mind as you rode the dutch driver.

you were determined to get pregnant tonight. you measured it all down to a t, all you needed was for max not to get whiskey dick. you curved your back to get closer to him, your lips met his as you moved up and down. his cock was snug in your, but it went in almost perfect. the blunt head hit against the furthest parts of you. your heart hammered in your chest as you moved your hips.

you pushed hair out of your face before your braced your hands on his chest once more. he was very toned, you almost wanted to joke about what happened to his slightly kinder chocolate addiction. but that was neither here nor there.

"you feel so good." he grunted, "why haven't we done this before? fuck." he panted, he could feel the heat in his cheeks as you rode him. he had been with others before but being under you was a pleasure no money could buy. you were really good at it, knowing exactly how to make him feel good.

"good things take time." you panted, part of you wondered what would happen if you covered his mouth. you didn't need the dirty talk, this was a mission. if you wanted a casual friends with benefits, you'd try something online or another in the paddock. fucking max was a certainly that you'd get pregnant. it didn't have to be intimate or soft. it was a means to an end, and you'd get there no matter what.

the sounds of your fucking filled the room as you continued to move against him. you raked your nails down his chest, catching his nipples which made him moan. he was cute on his back, letting you take over. you wondered how deep his affection for you went.

you didn't want the emotional baggage of it all. tonight you were both drunk and having sex in the motor homes. it would be a one night stand before you two finished out the season. you could feel the heat across your back as you stared at him.

his eyes were closed and his mouth slightly open as he panted heavily. there was heat in his face and you felt something tug in your chest. he was beautiful, you hated to admit it. but max verstappen was a pretty boy.

he was already blissed out, his noises forced you by the movement of your hips. you licked your lips and without thinking, you left a mark on his collarbone. it was stupid, but it excited your further.

you continued to move against him. your breasts bounced with each move of your hips. you felt moans in the back of your throat and a hum in your soul. pleasure was close and it wasn't long before you really worked yourself onto his cock and finished.

the tightness around his cock made max's back arch a little bit. he could feel the heat in the back of his head. his heart pounded as he watched you continue to ride his cock. he panted heavily and soon climaxed as well. you made sure to get everything you could out. you kissed him once more before you stopped. when you pulled away you got off of his waist and laid down on the bed.

"wow." he said out of breath.

you didn't want to talk. instead you turned your head to kiss him on the lips to keep him quiet. there was no time for mushy romantic bedroom talk. you needed him to fall asleep before you could leave.

you tried to count down the seconds, placing kisses across his heated face. you reminded yourself that there would be some lucky enough to keep him for life.

when you pulled away from his lips after one last kiss, he curled up beside you and right then fell asleep. you stayed awake, when the heat cooled in your body. you hoped your mission was a success. the lust and the alcohol still made its rounds in your body. but you were lucid enough to find your clothes in the dark and slip out of the motor home before morning.

you'd never bring up the event to max, only briefly mentioning it to charles. you'd drive harder after that, in the end you'd secure a world championship. as you kissed the trophy and your country's national anthem played, you were already pregnant with your child.

-

your retirement was a shock to max. you could've easily decorated your home with many trophies over the next few years. but at the end of the 2024 season, you bowed out. you thanked fans and told them that it was a new chapter in your life. and then like that you fell off the face of the earth over the off-season.

max tried to find ways to contact you. where did you go? what happened? why leave at the height of it all? the more he thought about it, the more questions were raised in his head. he asked around the paddock, even going as far as to ask charles where you went. the other drive shrugged and told him that you moved back to your home country with a "little extra luggage". there were no social media posts. nothing. it nagged in the back of his brain for what felt like a lifetime. what happened to ferrari's princess?

it wasn't until almost three years later, max had claimed another world championship. it felt like these days he was riding high. he was still the best. but as he walked into the paddock to train for the upcoming season, he stopped in his tracks. he felt like he was splashed with cold water.

there you were, three years older with a glow to you. you were laughing with charles and lewis, you looked different but in a good way. you were in overalls and a ferrari shirt underneath. you were more curvy than you were when you were driving. and while you were still beautiful like the sun, pulling max in. what made his stomach drop was who was in your arms.

a young boy, with big curious eyes and round cheeks. he held onto you tightly, his small fists in the fabric of your shirt. he seemed curious about the track, but not scared of how big it all felt. while max would've assumed that you got married and had a child as a lot of people did. but that's not what had happened.

max knew right away at the first glance of your son. looking at him was like looking at max's childhood photos. even in features that matched your own, your son carried a lot of max in him. the itch in his brain after you fell off the earth all those years ago came back, this was where you went. the boy looked like him and if he was right about the boy's age then dates lined up. there was no question. max verstappen was your son's father. and when you noticed him staring. you simply smiled and gave him a wink, shifting the boy in your arms and pointing at the me. when your son smiled, max felt something in his gut. looking at you, holding your (his) son, made max feel like he was home. and all those feelings he had been carrying poured back into his head and heart. the same emotions that allowed you to bed him. <3

sequel: love is a kick to the stomach

[coco-loco-nut]

Blue Birthday

pairing: charles leclerc x reader

summary: charles accidentally missed your birthday

a/n: thanks for the request 🫶 i hope you like it! my requests will be fully open again soon

masterlist

———————

You met Charles through your Uncle Ayrton’s foundation. You were at an event with your Aunt Viviane before the Brazilian GP and Charles was a volunteer.

Everything was so easy with him, he made every effort to make sure you knew how much he loves and appreciates you. Charles didn’t even force you to move to Monaco, but as soon as you told him you were moving there for the foundation, he cleared space for you.

You never celebrated things for yourself, but Charles made sure that you knew how special you were to him, so maybe that’s why the situation you found yourself in hurt so much.

“Mon amour, I have to go to Maranello for a few days. Ferrari emergency, will you be okay?” Charles asks, and you can’t say no to him. The look he gives you tells you that he genuinely wouldn’t go if you objected.

“I’ll be okay Charles,” you tell him, following him to the bedroom to help him pack up. “Drive safe, môr,” you kiss him before he leaves. Charles didn’t tell you how long he would be gone, so there was a small bit of hope in you that he would be back home for your birthday.

The few days passed until it was the night before your birthday. You spent the day working at the foundation, eagerly awaiting Charles’s return that evening.

“I’m sorry, I have to stay a couple more days. I miss you,” Charles says over the phone as you make dinner.

“It’s okay, I know you tried,” you can’t help but to hide your disappointment for the rest of the phone call. Yet again, you crawl into an empty bed. When midnight strikes you can’t fall asleep, but that doesn’t matter much when your phone rings.

“Happy birthday! We’re sorry we couldn’t fly over from Brazil,” your father says on the video call. Your smile hides the sting.

“Thank you, Papi. It is just another day,” the words feel fake. You used to believe that, but the man who isn’t here changed your view.

“Nonsense. It is your day. I am giving you the day off, treat yourself to a spa day and a nice lunch,” your aunt tells you.

“Thank you, I won’t do any work, promise,” you yawn, wiped from the day.

You wake up late, immediately checking your phone for a message from Charles. Unfortunately for you, it feels like everyone but Charles messaged you. Hell, even Carlos texted you. Maybe he is just waiting to call you later.

The spa is wonderful, and takes up most of your afternoon. Despite the air of relaxation, you can help but to check you phone for a message from Charles, even a silly instagram reel would suffice.

Heidi invites you to a birthday dinner with Carmen, Kelly, and Lily.

“How has your birthday been so far? I just know Charles gave you the most thoughtful gift,” Heidi says as you sip on wine. You mask your grimace with a smile.

“It has been very lovely. I was able to sleep in late then I enjoyed a long afternoon at the spa. Very relaxing,” you tell them, leaving Charles out of it. The dinner is long, and you do enjoy it, but as time goes on, your heart hurts more.

Heidi pulls you to the side before you get to your car, well, Charles’s car.

“Charles forgot, didn’t he?” She asks, not giving you time to respond. “Listen, the teams have a way of occupying our guys so much that they don’t realize what day it is when they get called in. It isn’t an excuse, but keep that in mind,”

“Thanks, I needed to hear that. And thank you again for organizing the dinner,” you pull Heidi into a hug.

During the drive home, you can feel tears pricking in your eyes. When you get home all that awaits you is a text from Charles saying that he is stuck in meetings and to not wait up for him, that he will call in the morning.

You lay in bed, finally letting the tears fall. You are mad at Charles, Ferrari, the world. There is nothing you wish for more in this moment to be back home in Brazil. You don’t answer your father’s phone call, knowing he will ask how your birthday was, and you cannot lie to him. Instead, you fall asleep, still in the dress you wore to dinner, wondering if you would ever really be the number one priority to Charles.

meanwhile in Maranello…

Charles and Carlos leave the meeting, nearing Midnight. Carlos drives them to the nearby apartment they are staying in for the duration of time Ferrari needs them.

“How was Y/n’s birthday today? Did she enjoy your gift,” Carlos asks, thinking to the many thoughtful gifts he’s received from Charles.

“Fuck. That was today?” Charles panics, looking at his phone calendar.

“Charles, you didn’t?” Carlos feels his heart drop for his teammate.

“I did. I got so caught up here. I need to call her,” Charles immediately calls you, but you don’t pick up. “She didn’t answer, she’s probably asleep,” Charles can feel the tears in his eyes. He feels awful.

“I’ll call Fred, you start packing. Drive back tonight,” Carlos tells him as he parks the car. Both waste no time. Charles is packed to leave within five minutes, and Carlos left no room for negotiation.

Charles drives all night, making it back to the Monaco apartment just after 4:30 in the morning.

He walks into your bedroom quietly, not wanting to disturb your sleep. His heart breaks at the sight of you clutching his pillow, still in the dress from the night before. Charles is quick to carefully strip the dress off of you, and put his t-shirt on you. After getting you under the covers, he slides in beside you, holding you close. Even if you are upset with him, he is even more upset with himself.

When your alarm goes off in the morning, you feel the familiar warmth beside you and your heart melts a little. Charles groans, wiping his eyes as you quickly turn off the alarm. You realize what him being here means, he drove all night.

“Charles, go back to sleep,” you whisper, carefully getting out of bed.

“But I missed your birthday,” he groggily says, fighting the sleep that is trying to pull him under.

“I know, we will talk about it when I get back from work, okay? Get some sleep, you must’ve driven all night,” you tell him gently, silently getting ready for the day.

When Charles wakes up, he spends the day cleaning, restocking the fridge, and picking up the gifts he bought you months ago. He even makes your favorite dinner and his mom’s tiramisu. Carlos called while he was cooking to ask how things were going and to wish Charles luck.

“Charles? You didn’t need to do all this,” you tell him when you get home, the delicious smells from the kitchen leading you to him.

“I did, mon amour. I feel awful,” Charles wraps his arms around you, pressing a kiss to your forehead.

“I know, and Ferrari isn’t an excuse for what you did, but maybe you can make it up to me,” you offer a small smile.

“I have a whole night planned. Let me make it up to you,” Charles takes off your jacket for you, instructing you to sit at the dinner table. Your face lights up at the meal sitting in front of you, the candles burning, a perfect dinner date.

“Môr, you didn’t have to do all this,” you tell him when he sits beside you, serving you before you have the chance to do so for yourself.

“I was going to cook for you regardless. I will always treat you like the queen you are,” Charles smiles. You make small talk over the meal, avoiding the elephant in the room. You want to stay mad at him, but you can’t. You love him so much, and he’s made so much effort into making it up to you. Honestly, you forgave him as soon as you woke up and saw him, but you might as well milk it.

“Okay, I have a few gifts for you, but come into the bedroom first,” he tells you when you finish the dessert together. You follow him to your room where new matching silk pajamas wait on your bed, fuzzy blankets, and some snacks.

“Cuddles and a movie?” you ask with a small smile.

“Of course. While you change, I’ll go get your gifts,” Charles says, stepping out of the room. He returns a couple moments later with three boxes. You carefully open them in the order he gives them to you. The first is a white hoodie with his racing number and your uncle’s racing number stitched on the left arm, subtle but thoughtful.

“I thought that you might want something cozy for race days, especially the colder ones. There is one in red and one in black in the closet,” Charles smiles as you hold the softest hoodie known to man.

“Thanks, môr, I love it,” you smile, setting it to the side. You open the second box, it is a signed photo of your uncle and parents together, it must’ve been right before he crashed. You look a Charles a little teary-eyed.

“Ah, I should’ve saved that for last. There is someone who collects a lot of memorabilia and I reached out to see if he was willing to sell anything of your Uncle’s. When I told him it was for you, he gave it for free. Said you deserved it. Truthfully, I was going to give it to your dad for Christmas, but I thought you’d want a piece of your family here,” Charles rubs his neck shyly. You let the tears fall down your cheek as you look at the trio.

“Thank you,” you choke back a sob, flinging your arms around Charles as he holds you tightly.

“One last present,” Charles smiles, handing you a small box once you’ve composed yourself. There is a set of keys and you look confused at him. “Those aren’t your keys, it’s more symbolic. Your Ferrari Roma will be delivered next week,” he tells you, worried you are about to freak out.

“You bought me a car?”

“Well, even though I’m fine with you taking the keys to my cars, I know you don’t always feel comfortable doing so. So, I got you a car,” Charles smiles, watching you process it.

“Wow, thank you. I’ll, um, put these away. Put your pajamas on so we can watch a movie,” you carefully pick up the hoodie and picture. Charles doesn’t hesitate to put on the comfy pajamas and get in bed with you. He puts on your favorite movie and holds you close.

“I really am so sorry I missed your birthday,” Charles says as your head rests against his chest.

“I know. I’m happy you are here now though. Thank you for coming home last night and making it up to me. I love you,” you turn your head so you can look at him.

“There is nowhere else I’d rather be. I love you too,” he kisses you sweetly, happy he didn’t ruin everything.

[harkonnen-darkness]

【 𝐒𝐚𝐲 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐞! 】

Feyd-Rautha Harkonnen X f! Reader

┄ Words: ca. 6.000

┄ OneShot to Love Bites

┄ This OS is connected to 𝕸𝖚𝖗𝖉𝖊𝖗 𝖔𝖋 𝖙𝖍𝖊 𝖕𝖆𝖘𝖙

Warnings: dark Feyd - has a soft spot for you, he has several feelings for his Na-Baroness, he killed Readers rapist, blood & gore, deep talking (for Feyd it's already too much lol), bloody biting, smut sexual touching -> oral (female receving), genital friction, fingering - 18+

Thank you for chosing the title.

And thanks to a beta-reader. <3

only Feyd's pov

She bounced against my chest as I was about to enter her chambers. ❝Where are you going?❞, I asked her as she looked up with wide eyes. She seemed momentarily overwhelmed, took a small step back and stammered, startled, ❝I w-wanted to look for you. You've been gone for so long.❞ Grinning mischievously, I tilted my head. Oh, did Lady Skiras missed me? ❝Have you been… busy with him until now?❞, her voice rang out again as I walked into her chambers, grabbed her by the wrist and pulled her behind me. A few candles lit the room in a soft, warm light. I found it almost ridiculous that a proud warrior like her had such a side in her. But if that was what she wanted, it was okay with me. I was happy to use any means to make her feel comfortable here on Giedi Prime. Otherwise, the rooms were completely dark, the night deep black. The pleasant scent of her shower gel also caught my nose. It was crazy how used to it I had become. Even crazier how much I liked it. I thought about taking a bath with her tomorrow or swimming in the thermal. As long as my uncle was still away, I could spend a lot more time with my queen.

The large balcony doors were slightly open, the air pleasantly cool compared to the day, but still too warm for my liking. As soon as all the rain had disappeared a few days ago, a sultry heat prevailed on the gloomy planet. Thunderstorms were passing across the sky from time to time, but the air was only slightly cooler as a result. I pushed [y/n] onto the edge of the bed, bent down to her, between her knees. She looked at me silently, as I looked at her. I actually wanted to hear words from her, a 'thank you' at best, but I knew that I had completely overwhelmed her with my actions today. Nevertheless, I hoped that she would love and adore me even more for it than she already did. Her pretty fingers layed on my heated skin, her eyes resting searchingly on my body. ❝It's only his blood. None of it is mine.❞, I explained. Should I be offended now? Or did she just mean well? She nodded understandingly, still silent. I laughed softly, put a bloody hand on her cheek and watched her lean against it for a moment. She seemed to feel safe in my presence. Good. Tears gathered in her tired eyes, sparkling like diamonds, before they ran down her cheeks, thick as blood. Quickly, one of her hands jerked up and wiped the water away. ❝Apologize, Feyd.❞ I shook my head. She was allowed to cry today. In fact, I hoped they were tears of relief. Why else would she be crying?

I would have loved to read her thoughts now. She was probably wondering, and rightly so, what I had done to her tormentor. This afternoon, I had allowed her to take a look in the dark dungeon, after I had defeated him in the arena. A few days ago, I had spontaneously decided to kill him. In full public view. If my uncle asked, I would lie. Another no-good Atreides. And not a follower of the Harkonnens… actually. The beautiful female before me had never told me his name, and yet it had been easy for my middleman to figure out which man was behind it. Who had touched her in a gruesome way. I was disgusted that I had once spoken to him. That I had exchanged words with him and thus unknowingly wasted my time. So disgusting! But how wonderful - [y/n] had wanted to look for me. She probably couldn't fall asleep without me. I wouldn't allow her to wander the halls alone so late at night anyway, no. Even though I knew she could fight back, I was afraid for her. Nobody should harm her. Nobody! I leaned my forehead against her upper body, enjoying her gentle touch. The old me would have mocked me for it. For letting a woman who wasn't one of my whores get so close to me. Closer than the three pets, much closer. But I was pining for her, just as she was pining for me. I idolized her, just as she idolized me. And somewhere along the line, I also hated her deeply. For the fact that she could trigger exactly these feelings and emotions in me. Every day anew. I wanted her to touch me the way she did now. I wanted her to snuggle up to me and fall asleep on my chest, when I layed next to her - which wasn't every night.

Dreamy as I was, my hands stroked her bare legs, under the long black, asymmetrical skirt. Her skin was so pleasantly warm. Her slim fingers had not left my skin either and a purr escaped my throat as she stroked my shoulder muscles with circular movements. There was a pleasant silence in the room, nothing could be heard. It was almost unusual for me after all the screams from her tormentor. I really hoped that her nightmares would come to an end now too. Somewhere I understood and always tried to calm her down, but on the other hand it got on my nerves to have to wake her from her nightmares at night or to be woken up by her sobbing. She shouldn't waste another thought on him! From now on, she would forget him more and more every day. My act today, my gift to her, had to be proof enough that she was important to me and that I had feelings for her. I continued to stroke her legs gently, a stark contrast to the other things I had done with my bare hands today. Another grin crept uncontrollably onto my lips and I kissed the thin, even slightly transparent fabric of her top. I smelled the scent of lavender again, this time on her skin. I rested my head on her thighs, closed my eyes for a moment and continued to allow her lovely touches. Allowed myself to enjoy them. I was powerful, but not enough to detach myself from this female. If she died or disappeared, I would probably lose my mind completely. I would slaughter absolutely everyone. If she would ever try to escape, I would take her back. What was once my property remained mine! Unless I gave it up voluntarily. But I would never give her to anyone else! Why should I?

I didn't realize that I was in a trance at that moment. That her aura completely possessed and captivated me. My eyes remained on her pretty legs, looking at the blood on them that my fingers were spreading. As if it was doing something to me, triggering something deep inside me. I remembered when we had been completely covered in blood, intimate. The sheets and pillows stained red like batik. What a beautiful memory. Growling, I exhaled and slowly looked up at her, gazing deep into her pretty eyes. Her lips were slightly parted and I knew she wanted to say something, but couldn't get a sound out. I got caught up in the reflective sparkling light of the candles. She swallowed nervously. How beautiful.

What was she thinking? I would have loved to split her skull open and read her thoughts. Through the dancing candlelight, I saw something flash in the corner of my eye on the bedside table and turned my head in that direction. Ah, it was the tooth she had removed. Blood still clung to the small bone. With slow movements, I reached into my trouser pocket and pulled out another one. ❝You only took one.❞, I said. My voice even rougher than usual, very quiet. ❝Two are better.❞, I added and placed it next to the other one. She only nodded in agreement, nothing else. She was still too overwhelmed by all the emotions that had erupted in her today, because of me. I loved to overwhelm her. Emotionally as well as physically. I knew she'd been racking her brain all day about how I'd found out. How he had gotten to Giedi Prime. Would I tell her? No, very probably not. Maybe one day. But definitely not today, not now! This morning I had almost left my Chambers in a hurry because I knew that I would finally be able to get rid of him. Once again, I nestled my head against her torso, purring relaxedly as I felt so comfortable in her presence. I knew that I could let myself go with her. She was my haven of peace. When I was too stressed or angry, I liked to seek her out to calm down again. I liked to let myself fall onto her upper body, listen to her heartbeat and let her stroke me like she was doing now. My good-for-nothing uncle had accepted my decision to have her as a (Na-)Baroness. Smart for me, bad for him. No one would ever have thought that I would find my fiancée more than just physically attractive. Just as little as I did at the beginning. I had quickly found her interesting, but it had taken me longer to really admit it to myself.

❝Thank you, Feyd.❞, her voice rang out softly in the darkness. Ah, there it was. I raised my head slightly, but didn't look at her. Instead, I pressed a gentle kiss to the exposed skin between her breasts. My hands slid up her waist, stroking it a few times. Her fingers stroked the back of my neck and I purred once more. I loved it when she did that. Especially at certain moments. My lips wandered over the gauzy fabric over her breasts, feeling her nipples underneath. I licked over the fabric and bit, a little more gently, into the soft flesh. She moaned quietly and her fingers gripped the back of my neck. I pressed her upper body onto the mattress and pushed her thighs further apart. I licked over the blood on her skin, my blackened teeth sinking deep into the equally soft flesh, letting her red liquid, which tasted so much better, melt on my tongue. Her muscle twitched a little, but I didn't care. When she wanted to stay mine, she had to live with it!

I bit her arm several times, her shoulder, her neck and jawline. Marked her as mine. Just as it should be. ❝Say that you're mine!❞, I growled into her ear. It wasn't just a request, she had no other choice. And she knew that. My hands reached under her back to better position her on the bed. ❝I'm yours, my Baron.❞, she whispered as her head sank onto the thick pillows. I didn't loosen my tight grip on her, leaning my forehead against hers and smiling darkly. After today, I needed reassurance. The man I had killed today had touched her before me. I didn't just hate him for that. I had, literally, torn him apart and yet my anger hadn't gone away. Inside, I felt like I was going to burst with rage. But the pretty girl underneath me would calm me down, I knew that. ❝Again.❞, I murmured against her lips. She giggled, which made me smile too. She stroked my hard chest, over the dried blood and traced the lines of my muscles, but remained silent at first. ❝Are you mine, Feyd?❞ She smiled softly, but I could hear pain in her voice. I felt an uncomfortable weakness inside me. Unpleasant because I couldn't do anything about it. A weakness for her.

Lost in thought, feeling her tickling fingertips, I forgot to answer. Only her startled look snapped me back to reality. ❝Yes, I am.❞, I whispered and stroked her lower lip with my thumb, giving in to my feelings for her. It was no use fighting it (now). It only made my otherwise cold heart ache. I wanted to win her over every time. I needed her. Today I didn't even wait for her answer and kissed her full of desire. I knew her answer either way. She was mine, even after death she would be! I undid the side lacing of her skirt and pulled it off her legs. Her thin top followed suit.

❝You don't always have to do this, Feyd.❞, she moaned breathlessly, as I kissed my way down her body. A guilty conscience plagued her, as she couldn't give me everything yet because of her rapist. But I knew that would change. I was a big part of this process myself and wanted to give her the time she needed. One night or day, I would feel all of her on me. ❝Shut the fuck up!❞, I growled and pushed her down again. With quick finger grips, I removed the simple underwear from her body, biting into her breasts again, her skin down between her legs. I would never miss out on the nectar and her sweet moans. She deserved it. And when I was to be the one to pleasure her in this way, all the better! I pressed my fingers against the fresh bite mark on her thigh, to remind her again who she belonged to. I ran my tongue over the heated flower-rose and heard her shakily inhale. I loved having pure control over her body and emotions. Slowly and carefully, I penetrated her with my tongue, paying attention to any warning signals from her body. But her muscles didn't tense up, her body let me have my way. Her fingers clawed into the sheets and moaned hoarsely. Today I wanted to give her as much as possible. I had spent almost the whole day cruelly torturing this man. I did everything to him that I could think of on the spur of the moment. Until just a few minutes ago, the life had drained out of his body. Now it was time to take care of my beloved and give her what she deserved - apart from me. Her shy moans echoed through the dark room. The candlelight brightened her body, the pearls of sweat on her skin looked like glitter.

The sight would make me come without having touched her, if I didn't take my eyes off her now. Only her twitching muscles around my tongue distracted me and I tightened one grip around her hip, the other hand further, just as hard, on her thigh. I pressed my tongue against her pearl as her body tensed and twitched, one of her hands wrapped around my neck and her fingernails briefly scratched hard across my skin. She didn't even seem to notice. I only gave her a few seconds to calm down, biting and sucking the skin of her thighs between my lips and teeth. A few bruises and purple marks should decorate her body like jewelry, because I wanted it that way! I licked once more over the beads of blood from the bite wound, before quickly turning to her neck to bite her hard there. But suddenly she jumped up and without releasing me from her, I felt her teeth in my shoulder. Blood immediately flowed from the wound, dripping down onto her skin. I growled deeply, not taking my teeth off her. But neither did she. I felt her tongue stroking my skin as I placed my hand on her upper body and pressed her back into the mattress with ease. Her bloody lips grinned cheekily at me and I couldn't help but kiss her. She was so cute and shy, and also so deliciously wicked and full of (bloody) action. I had seen her kill a few times. And I liked it far too much.

As soon as her hands opened my pants, I quickly changed position and pulled her onto my lap. I covered her neck with gentle kisses and slowly stroked up and down her back with both hands. ❝Are you okay?❞, I asked her to make sure. A lot could happen every day, but she certainly wouldn't have expected that. I continued to spread kisses over her sensitive skin, while I waited for her answer. Too long for my taste. I detached myself from her skin and gazed earnestly deep into her eyes. I didn't know how to interpret her silence. ❝It… it's been a bit much today.❞, she replied, no louder than a breath. I nodded understanding, stroking her cheek with the back of my hand. His blood now dry. My eyes didn't leave hers, searching for emotions in what she was feeling now. But I couldn't find an answer in them.

I searched for truths and lies at the same time. I stroked her bloody lips, whispering against them that she was mine. And that there was nothing she could do about it. To my surprise, she smiled, kissed my bloody hand, then my lips. She placed her body firmly on mine, making me groan. However, I had to push her back a little, reaching into my pants, to press my member against her wet labia. A pleasant sigh escaped us and I rested my head on her shoulder, wanting to relax for a moment. Knowing that only I would touch her like this. I pressed one hand under her butt, lifting her body with ease so that my dick slid over her labia. I slowly lifted and lowered her again, my tip stroking her pearl with light pressure. I spread kisses over her cleavage, my blood sticking on her skin here and there, which didn't bother me in the slightest. Her soft moans reached my ears as I licked over the bloody love bite. One hand layed on my chest, the other fell loosely over my shoulder. I kept up the slow pace, as I had sometimes noticed that it stimulated her body more. A soft thunder suddenly sounded over Giedi Prime, but no rain could be heard. I stroked her back with my other hand and pressed her harder against me. Her upper body touched mine, her arm wrapped tightly around my neck and her head continued to rest on my shoulder. I could feel her rapid heartbeat against my chest and it only aroused me even more. By now it hurt as much as her teeth had, when she had just bitten me hard. But I didn't see it as suffering - on the contrary. For me, it was just another sign of how much I wanted her. Before her, I had only found my pets attractive, no other females.

❝Strong heart, Feyd-Rautha.❞, her voice rang out hoarsely, which made me grin. What were once serious words from me, had turned into teasing between us. Little did I know that my heart was vibrating through her whole body. My hand pressed her even tighter against me, which made her moan. So hard that it hurt me too, but it was worth every second. ❝It's yours.❞, I rumbled against her ear and bit into it. Her wet pussy were almost unbearable, but I forced myself not to come yet. She was close, but not close enough. ❝Down.❞, I growled, my hand remaining firmly on her lower back as I placed her on the bed, her head propped up on the thick pillows. My blood was dripping onto her skin again, but I didn't really care. Her skin looked so beautiful with the red decoration on it. A flash of lightning lit up the room for a split second, followed by another thunder. Her legs automatically wrapped around my hips to make it easier for me to touch her flower-rose. Nevertheless, I supported her with one hand on her tailbone, my other arm resting next to her head. I looked at her breasts as I moved, watching my blood on them as I felt her lips on my forearm. She kissed my veins, which were clearly protruding due to the high outside temperature. Again, I had to take my eyes off the spectacle, otherwise I would have come. I loved how much she wanted me. But the pain inside me only got worse as her tongue slid over the bluish lines. I had to admit to myself that she was in control of me tonight, not me of her.

I bit, almost desperate, into the wound of her neck again, making her bleed further. My dick slid firmly over her labia, the wetness could be heard, her swollen pearl irritated my tip to death. ❝Fuck! You fucking devil!❞, I growled as she nibbled at my veins. She suddenly bit hard to suppress her moans, as I felt her twitching muscles, giving me the rest and pour down on her labia. Completely out of breath, I remained in my rigidity, did not move. Her legs were still wrapped around my waist. Pearls of sweat ran down my ribcage, mixed with the blood, barely able to stand the heat in my body. At that moment, I was hoping the storm would bring rain. Otherwise, the beautiful female beneath me would be my death. I could still feel her hot breath on my arm, as she hadn’t resolved her bite either. I raised my head a little, looked at her body, seeing the pretty little pearls of sweat everywhere, sparkling in the faint candlelight. In that moment, I realized that my orgasm hadn’t been a bit of a redemptive one for me. The pain returned, my dick slowly trembled again. Thus, within a few seconds, it began to rain heavily. But the thunderstorm did not end, as another low thunder sounded the night. Her teeth loosened and I heard her giggling softly. I looked at her asking questions. ❝Reminds me of your purring.❞ I didn't want to trust my ears, growled in her ear that she shouldn't play games with me. But in response, she gently kissed my neck and my bloody shoulder. That's it, there was no turning back. Deeply resentful, I pressed a hand against her lower back again to raise her a little more. And an instinct in me told me, it wouldn't just be a second round this night.

The sudden feeling of emptiness woke me up. She was just lifting her upper body, as I quickly wrapped my arm around her and pushed her down again. ❝Stay!❞, I growled and pressed her firmly back to me. I hated it when she stood up before me. ❝You should have got up a long time ago, Feyd.❞, she told me with worried eyes. I turned on my back and shook my head. ❝He’s not here. And no one else cares if I’m somewhere later than anyone else.❞, I explained to her, my grip around her did not loosen. ❝They know I’m with you anyway.❞, I grinned at her, making her cheeks blush a little. Voluntarily, she dropped onto my upper body, her breasts were pleasantly cool on my skin for a moment. Automatically, my hand was on her back, driving back up and down. The thick curtains let in enough light to see that almost all the stains on her back had faded. In the last few days, we had not had enough time to get really intimate with each other. I didn't really want quickies with her, rather I let my tongue do quick work and I touched myself. My uncle couldn't take that from me. But for real intimacy, I always wanted to have time for her and her body. She layed still on me, breathing slowly in and out. Completely relaxed. I took the opportunity and bit into her back. Not so hard that she bled, but hard enough that the tooth prints would be visible for a while. Again and again I sucked her skin between my lips and teeth to refresh the pretty bruises. Maybe a stupid game, but very important to me. As one leg was angled from her, I discovered the now visible spots on her thighs. My bite wound was clear and easy to see. I let my hand slide down her back, over her butt, and further down to the bite wound to take a closer look. I noticed heat emanating from her female zone, she angled her leg even more, moved a little and pressed her hot labia against my hand.

❝Devil!❞, I growled deeply, pushing her pretty hair aside to bite the back of her neck. Her body reacted quickly to my touch, and my fingers slid a little easier over her labia. She moaned pleasantly and I enjoyed giving her the little massage. Knowing exactly what I could do to her body. After a few seconds she pulled herself vertically onto my body. Only the thin blanket separated my genitals from hers, and I felt her breasts on my chest again. She rested her head relaxed in the crook of my neck, her hot breath whipping against the thin skin. I pressed one hand under her butt again, to pull her a little higher. She automatically moved one leg more to the side as I wrapped my wet fingers around her pearl. She sucked in a sharp breath, as I pressed my other hand under her thigh to massage her wet entrance. Only her hands around my neck kept her in position, her moans were music to my ears. I would never have touched my whores like that, or anyone else. These touches were for her alone and I started nibbling on her shoulder. Her hot breath hit my neck, her moans became a little louder, sounded desperate and her arms wrapped tightly around my shoulders, as if she were looking for support. ❝Not my fault!❞, I reminded her, biting her ear.

❝Yes, it’s your fault!❞, she countered and bit lightly into my neck. ❝Why?❞, I asked hoarsely as the arousal inside me ached. ❝Because you arouse me so much!”, she hissed. ❝Because you are manipulating me!❞, I replied a second later and increased the pressure on her clitoris. ❝I... don't...❞, she moaned weakly, already shaking. I penetrated her with just the tip of my finger, maintaining the pressure with my other hand. ❝You do!❞, I growled as one hand gripped my shoulder tightly, the other stayed on my neck and her body trembled and twitched. I bit her neck, which finished her off and I felt her twitch violently against my hands, her moans so hoarse, that she could barely make a sound. Satisfied, I stayed on her wet skin for a few seconds, trying to ignore my stiff member. I kissed the red spot on her neck gently, listening to her heavy breathing. ❝Don't ever get up before me!❞, I said as I pushed her away and quickly stood up.

She didn't have the strength to hold on, her hand slipping from my arm as she tried to wrap her fingers around it. I took my fingertips between my lips with relish and didn't dare turn around. If I would do that now, I would take her. But she was right, I really didn't have any time left. It was during the game, that it occurred to me that Rabban was probably already waiting for me. The ice-cold shower brought relief, but I still avoided looking at her, as I dug out a new pair of pants of mine from her closet. However, I still had the belt on the other pair of pants. ❝Cover your body!❞, I ordered her and I heard that she obeyed me. I felt her eyes on me, saw a smile on her face without looking directly at her. Removing the belt from the trouser loops, I told her that she should get breakfast. They would give her what she wanted anyway. I knew she skipped meals sometimes. ❝Hmm, a croissant with honey. A few pieces of cold fruit, a cup of tea…❞, she mused, completely lost in thought. ❝Sounds good.❞, I answered her and she looked at me questioningly, which made me laugh briefly. ❝You speak your thoughts out loud, my lady.❞ Her cheeks flushed slightly again and she cast her gaze to the floor. For me, however, it was a sign of trust, when she murmured to herself. ❝Yes, you need to eat something too.❞, she said quietly and reached for her bottle of water. I knew she hadn't meant the words to be ambiguous, but my eyes met hers hard. ❝Stop manipulating me!❞, I growled deeply and took the glass bottle from her hands, pulling the blanket from her lower body but leaving her breasts covered. I quickly pushed her legs apart, leaned down and licked up her sweet nectar, sucking on the soft skin to get everything I deserved. I pressed my hand firmly over her mouth, so I wouldn't have to hear her moan. It felt like I wasn't allowed to kill someone who deserved nothing more than to die. And it didn't get any better when I pulled away from her but bit into her thigh one last time. ❝So, I had mine.❞, I said without looking at her. I heard her laughing softly as I stepped out the door. Not knowing that I would be touching her again in about two hours.

I felt a hand on my upper arm and knew immediately that it was my fiancée's. I had already smelled her perfume. His body, uncovered, was being transported away on a stretcher. ❝No one will ever harm you again.❞, I reminded her whispering. There were a few other Harkonnen standing in the hallway, watching what was happening. The smell that came out of the prison was horrible. But I knew that every single cut on his body had been worth it. In the end, I had removed his skin uncleanly and roughly. Since I had also cut off his limbs, he looked more like a raw piece of meat. I cut off his head purely out of protest. I didn't know whether he was still alive at that point. I heard her swallow, she probably wasn't expecting this sight. She was wearing the same clothes as yesterday, unfortunately the rain had only cooled down the night. Her hair was pinned up, some kind of jewelry holding her hairstyle together. I wrapped my arm tightly around her waist, as she looked away from the piece of meat. She leaned her forehead against my upper arm and closed her eyes. I placed a kiss on her hair. It didn't bother me that we weren't alone. Everyone should know by now, especially after my action in the arena yesterday, that I felt something for the Na-Baroness. I was probably the first Harkonnen in decades, but who would have a problem with that? Except for my uncle.

At that moment, she asked if I knew when he was coming back. ❝From what I know, not today.❞, I replied immediately. She smiled with relief and looked at my bare upper body. Because of the heat, some wore no tops. The bite marks on my shoulder and under arm were clearly visible, as were my teeth marks on her neck. ❝Hmm, would you like to go swimming later?❞, she asked me quietly. ❝I would even be willing to try the cold water.❞, she added, which, made me laugh for a moment. ❝Are you sure you can do this?❞, I teased her. ❝I can at least try!❞, she countered. ❝Otherwise you have to go into the lukewarm water with me.❞, she continued as I saw an equally black bikini through her transparent top. The small stainless steel Harkonnen symbol hanging between her breasts, how pretty. I also saw the two teeth, slightly above her breasts, which were attached to a thin chain link. I examined her work with interest, turning it between my fingers. ❝Good idea.❞, I mumbled and she grinned at me. ❝Is someone saying their thoughts out loud, Na-Baron?❞ I paused for a moment because she was right, but then nodded. ❝Morning swimming is very good.❞, I told her, grabbing her wrist and pulling her behind me. I didn't feel like waiting until tonight. However, I knew full well that she wouldn't be able to stand the cold water. I also knew that there was a good chance that we wouldn't be swimming at all. Maybe a few strokes at the beginning, but it would lead to something completely different. Our emotions are still fully charged from yesterday. Her fingers cheekily tugged at my waistband and undid the belt, even though we hadn't even arrived yet. ❝Naughty brat!❞, I growled, grabbing her and easily pulling her body over my shoulder, biting her butt. She planted kisses on my back, which I enjoyed more than I would ever admit.

I watched her touch the ice cold water with just one toe. She grinned sheepishly at me and shook her head. ❝I knew it!❞, I said, went up to her and picked her up in my arms. Her hands wrapped around my shoulders, her lips kissed my neck as I stepped into the lukewarm, slightly bubbling water with her. I heard another ❝Thank you.❞ from her when we were so deep in the water, that it was up to our arms. She wrapped her legs around my hips and I was almost painfully aware of how much I wanted her, as she pressed against me, making us both moan. How could my ego allow this? I already had removed her bottom garment as I undid the knots on her neck and back, placing it on the edge of the pool, without moving away from her lips. I pressed my knee between her legs to lift her up a little more. One hand on her back, the other on her pearl. Her fingers clawed at the muscles of my upper arm, moaning my name hoarsely as I sucked on the skin of her neck to add more marks. I bit the link chain and gave it a playful tug. She pressed herself even closer to me, wrapping her legs around my waist so tightly, as if she felt like she was drowning. A hand stroked the back of my neck, definitely one of my weak spots. Sighing pleasantly, she placed a few gentle kisses on my neck and collarbone. ❝You are mine, Feyd-Rautha… but please tell me. How did you know it was him?❞ Evil grinning, I shook my head, kissed my property and tasted the honey on her lips.

-> New Taglist open <3 I tag in the comments.

[flowerandblood]

Robbed and gifted (1/6)

[ arranged marriage • modern!Aemond x female ]

[ warnings: sex content, angst, smut, violence ]

[description: (Anon Request) She and Aemond are faced with a situation, where they must form a fictitious marriage. They are complete strangers to each other, who cannot find themselves in a new reality. When his wife stands up for him at a family dinner, something changes between them. Smut, angst and a lot of sexual tension.]

* English is not my first language. Please, do not repost. Enjoy! *

Previous and next chapters: Masterlist

_____

She had only signed a few sheets of paper, but she felt as if she had sold herself to a slave market.

She despised herself and her uncle.

His proposal.

She despised her husband and his father.

That they made a deal with each other over their heads, making their fictional marriage a route to easy cash flow and money laundering.

She was surprised when her uncle, Arthur, her mother's brother, called her with the proposal. When he offered to pay for her college and financially support her parents, who were in debt because of her father's gambling addiction, she thought he must be crazy.

Then he began to mention a family with whom he had close ties, about the young man who was their son, about how she could help him a lot, and with this favor ensure her future and safety.

"We would need this marriage for about a year, maximum two, so that our money would be filtered through your bank accounts in several tranches. Your community of property will make things easier for us – and then you can divorce." He said as they sat in a small restaurant where he had invited her.

She was about to take a piece of spaghetti in her mouth but she put the cutlery on the plate, staring at him with her mouth open.

She didn't believe what she just heard.

"You want to sell me?" She asked, feeling her whole body tense, cold sweat running down her neck. Her uncle laughed, taking a sip of wine from his glass.

"Of course not. You are only to make appearances. Of course, we wouldn't want the rest of the family to know about this deal, so you'd have to live in the same apartment in case someone came to visit you, and show up at family events once in a while. What you do privately is up to you. It is as if you have been given an assignment and a mission for a certain period of time for which you will both be handsomely paid." He said with a calmness and serenity that terrified her – she wondered how he could talk about such things so lightly.

"Are you proposing me a sham marriage to a stranger for money?" She asked, pale, her eyes wide, her hands trembling slightly. Her uncle smiled warmly at her.

"I offer to take care of your future, for your small favor and sacrifice. Think about this." He said, putting some bills on the table, definitely more than their dinner was worth and left, leaving her with disbelief written on her face.

She came home angry and distraught – she thought that her uncle treated her like garbage, like a bargaining chip, an object that he could put up for auction.

She felt an unpleasant lump in her pit as she saw that her father was gone again.

She walked over to her mom who was just lying on the couch watching TV – she stood for a moment in the doorway of the room, pursed her lips.

"Where is dad?" She asked quietly.

Her mother shrugged.

"Probably where he always is." She murmured, taking a sip of tea from a large mug.

She felt a tightness in her pit at her words and went to her room without asking for anything else.

In the night, she heard the sound of a door opening, followed by a loud thud and a scream – she saw the hallway light was on and peeked through the door, opening it a little.

Her mother was standing over her father who lay slumped against the wall, drunk, his vision completely blurred.

"God, how do you look? How much have you lost on those fucking slot machines again today?" She asked low, angry.

She saw her mother kick her father in the stomach – she cringed, as if she felt the pain too.

Her father was only moaning, it sounded like something she might call gibberish.

Her mother began to sob and continued to yell at him, asking why he was doing this to her.

She slipped into her room, closing the door, feeling her whole hands tremble, her heart pounding like a mad in her chest.

The next day she called her uncle, saying that she agreed to his proposal.

She just wanted him to take her away.

Then everything went fast – she had to appear at the Registry Office to sign the documents, together with her fictitious husband.

She saw him there for the first time and this was not how she had imagined him.

The fact that he was dressed all in black made him look very pale – his eye patch made her think that he was some kind of character from a movie, not a real person.

As if it was all some kind of theater in which she played one of the main roles.

She thought, looking down at her black dress that they were both dressed as if they were going to a funeral.

When everything was settled, Aemond, as it turned out was her current husband's name, simply left the room without saying even a polite farewell – she looked down at her feet, pursed her lips, and decided that he owed her nothing.

Neither she to him.

She wasn't going to take her frustrations out on him.

Her parents were terrified, but when her uncle gave them the exact numbers that they would get for it and the payment of their father's debts, they both calmed down and decided that two years wasn't that long after all.

She stared blankly at them, wondering who these people were at all – they seemed alien and distant to her as never before.

In accordance with her uncle's demands, she had to move into her husband's apartment.

She wanted to vomit just thinking about it for most of the morning.

She felt like a puppet controlled by someone else, as if she sold her life for a few bills.

She thought that maybe she wasn't so different from her parents after all, and the thought hit her hard.

She came with a moving team – Aemond showed them a room to set up her bookshelf, desk, and any other furniture she wanted to have.

It was obvious to her that they would sleep separately, almost as if they were roommates.

Her husband didn't say a word to her as the men brought in everything and she paced the apartment, looking around.

The flat was large and had huge windows, the walls were white, so it seemed very bright and pleasant inside, a lot of old oak furniture and plants around her.

She thought she liked it here.

That whoever her husband was, he had good taste.

She heard the door close suddenly and then there was silence.

She turned towards him – he stood in the corridor and looked at her dispassionately, as if she were an intruder, a whore greedy for money, someone empty and worthless.

She felt it in every cell of her body, but she couldn't be mad at him.

Part of her wanted him to treat her that way.

"I have someone." He spoke coolly, his voice empty. "So I don't want you asking me who and where I'm going out with. I hope that's clear."

He said it in such a way that she felt as if he had slapped her in the face.

She swallowed hard, looking away.

For some reason she wanted to cry.

After a moment she forced herself to choke something out.

"I wouldn't dare to expect that. I'm sorry." She said, although she did not know for what.

She saw something change in his eyesight, his pupil narrowed, his mouth tightened – she thought his expression looked almost sympathetic for a moment.

He nodded.

"Make yourself comfortable." He said a little softer and turned away, opening one of the rooms and locked himself in.

Only then did she allow tears to run down her face.

For the next few days he wasn't in the apartment. It didn't bother her – she felt more at ease then, because she wasn't afraid to go to the kitchen or the living room. She didn't walk into his office or bedroom, thinking it was impolite.

She spent her days filling out college papers and buying books – the thought that she would actually go to medical school cheered her up.

One night, lying in bed, she heard a soft turn of the lock, and then saw that someone had turned on the light in the corridor – her heart pounded at the thought that he was back.

She thought that he must have forgotten something or had come for some clean clothes and was about to leave again, but he hadn't. She heard him turn off the light in the hall and lock himself in his office.

She spent the rest of the night writhing on the bed, unable to sleep a wink. She got up at dawn, unable to bear it any longer, and went to the kitchen – there was almost nothing in the fridge.

She thought then that they might live apart, but that didn't mean that they had to dislike each other – she decided to go shopping and make them breakfast.

Lighten up the atmosphere somehow.

She quickly went to the store for fresh rolls and vegetables, eggs, cheese and ham. When she returned, she decided to make sandwiches with fresh lettuce, radish, tomato and chives with a delicious sauce, and casseroles, which she put in the oven in the meantime.

She flinched as she heard the sound of the door opening – she knew he went to the bathroom.

After a while he left the room and walked into the kitchen – he looked at the large plate on the table where she had placed her sandwiches without saying a word.

"I made us breakfast." She said.

“It will be hard for two years to pretend we don't see each other. Can't we just be roommates like in college? Who sometimes meet in between and talk?" She mumbled out.

He just stared at her, frustrated for some reason.

"You mean college like the one that you're going to, that was paid for with my money?" He asked suddenly, and she looked at him, shocked.

She opened her mouth, feeling her entire stomach clench, shaking her head.

"– I – my uncle told me –" She stammered, but he didn't let her finish.

"Your uncle is just a venal pig. Just like your whole family, apparently." He said it so calmly and dispassionately, that she felt tears welling up in her eyes. She stared at the bun that she had just sliced and put the knife aside, her lips pressed together.

"I didn't know." She whispered. He chuckled at her words, but it was ironic, aloof, incredulous laugh.

"Right. You women never know. Everything around you happens by itself." He hissed as he took his mug and left the kitchen, locking himself in his office.

She took several sandwitches in her hand, breathing heavily, wiping her tears and nose, as she wrapped them in cling film for him – she knew that he'd be leaving for work soon, so she wanted to at least give them to him for lunch.

When she got home after going to the college she saw that what she had left at his door, wrapped in a cardboard box, he had thrown into the bin.

He tried to pretend that she didn't exist.

She gave up trying to make contact with him. It made her cry often, because she felt like an intruder knowing what he thought of her.

She started classes but she wasn't proud of it at all – she was convinced that she was like a parasite that clung to him.

She wasn't surprised that he couldn't look at her.

One day, he surprised her by knocking on her bedroom door – since their exchange she ate alone, not in the dining room. She opened the door – he didn't even look at her when he was talking to her.

"Get ready. We're going to my parents' house in an hour. My family wants to meet you." He said indifferently and turned away, disappearing back into the living room.

She felt like she was about to die.

She put on a pretty, blue, girlish dress with tiny flowers and let her hair down, decideding that she couldn't embarrass him and had to present herself as best as she could.

She left the room and told him that she was ready – she saw him look her up and down as if to see, if she looked acceptable, then nodded and they both left the apartment.

They rode in complete silence, listening to the radio. She flinched when she heard his voice.

"Yes."

"We met by chance at one of the business events. You were there with your uncle. We fell in love right away. We kept our relationship a secret for a year. Do you understand?" He asked with emphasis on the last words, his voice as cold as ice.

She swallowed loudly.

As they stepped into his house, she smiled – she decided to play her role as best as she could. His mother, Alicent, hugged her tightly – it seemed to her that she knew nothing about what was really going on between them.

Their house was huge, modern, terrifyingly opulent – she felt uncomfortable there, as if something was missing. She sat down at the table in the indicated place and she was immediately bombarded with questions.

Her husband sat next to her, crossing his legs and placed his hand on her thigh. She looked at him in surprise, and he didn't even glance at her – she thought that he was trying to pretend, just like she was.

At the table were his father, mother, and siblings, but also his sister from his father's second marriage, Rhaenyra, with her children and now-husband, Daemon. From what she understood, they were all in the big family banking business.

They asked her about things that she didn't understand at all, but she nodded and talked to them about nothing – if there was one thing she was good at it was simple, light chatting.

Wine was poured with dinner – so many dishes were placed before them that she did not know where to look. She saw a lot of cutlery in front of her and thought that she felt like in that movie, where they sit some worker at the table with the nobility and make him guess which fork is for what.

She shuddered, snapped out of her thoughts when she heard her husband's voice next to her ear.

"I don't advise you to take soup or roast, because everyone will be looking at you." He said indifferently, serving himself the soup.

Apparently, what he meant was that his family for some reason cared a lot about how someone ate.

She asked what he could offer her.

"Everything but roasts and soups." He said dryly and she rolled her eyes, impatient with his behavior.

She saw him purse his lips at the sight, displeased, his fingertips digging into the soft skin of her thigh.

"Don't make faces like that." He hissed through clenched teeth. She looked at him expectantly.

"Decide for me, husband. Let your will be done." She whispered, leaning over him, her moist lips slightly parted.

She saw his gaze flit from her eyes to her lips, then back to her eyes – he tapped his finger against her knee, as if he was thinking hard about something.

"Careful." He said lowly and she shivered.

After a moment he looked away, leaning over the table, reaching for a salad – pretending that nothing had happened, she poured some of it on her plate and began to eat.

She hasn't had anything in her mouth since morning.

Suddenly, Viserys and Daemon went from light subjects and stories to business topics – although Alicent tried to add a funny anecdote, Daemon interrupted her, continuing his thought.

"If you don't have anyone to give it all to, what's the point of all this?" He asked, annoyed, spreading his hands.

"I think Jace would be a better fit." He added, several people moved uneasily on their seats.

She saw her husband reach for his glass of wine and take a deep sip from it, in his eye a fury and madness that she had never seen in another human being.

After a while his father spoke up.

"Well, that's a bit of an unfair assessment on your part. However, I agree that Aemond is not as dedicated to the company as I would like.” He said.

Her husband put his glass down on the table with an aggressive motion, everyone eyes turned to him.

"Are you fucking serious? I am not sacrificing enough for the company?” He hissed – she could feel him boiling, his hand on her thigh clenched into a fist.

She swallowed hard, looking from him to his father – Viserys shifted uneasily in his seat, knowing what he was implying.

"Math is absolute, son. Your results could be better." He said, speaking lightly as if it didn't really matter. "But of course everyone can have a bad time, it's natural."

Her husband leaned back against the back of the chair, his mouth slightly parted in disbelief.

She had seen, going to the bathroom at night, that the light was on in his office late into the night.

If he wasn't with his woman, he was still working.

For some reason her heart clenched tight.

"My husband works from morning to night. Even when I'm asleep he's still doing reports. Are the results he is supposed to strive for even achievable?" She blurted out suddenly, frowning, causing silence at the table.

Feeling a cold sweat on her back, she glanced quickly at Aemond, fearing that he would kill her for the outburst – he, however, just stared at her, his gaze expressing disbelief, his mouth slightly parted.

He cleared his throat, taking a glass in his hand and took another sip of wine, several people at the table looked at each other. His father smiled at her in a way she didn't like.

"It's nice to see such a loving and devoted married couple." He hummed and she felt a lump in her throat.

She knew that he was the only one among them who understood what their marriage really was, and he was mocking her. She flinched as her husband got up from the table abruptly, throwing his napkin on it.

"We're leaving." He said dryly to her as he headed for the hallway. She stood up quickly, following him, terrified – his mother tried to stop them, but he didn't even look at her.

"He humiliated me and you didn't fucking say anything, as usual." He hissed to her, slamming the car door behind him.

She humbly sat in the passenger side, fastening her seatbelts and closed the door behind her – he took off with a squeal of tires, causing her to be pinned to the seat for a moment.

He didn't even turn on the radio, lost in his thoughts, running his free hand over his jaw.

She thought, looking at him closely, that he was a really handsome man.

She smiled lightly at the thought and he looked at her suddenly – she swallowed hard and looked away.

They walked into his apartment without a word. She thought that he was going to lock himself in his office as usual, but he didn't – he went to the living room and started rummaging in the bar. She stood in the corridor, not knowing what to do – she wanted to go to her bedroom, but his voice stopped her.

That maybe they will get closer to each other.

"Would you like a drink?" He asked indifferently, looking at her from a distance. She swallowed hard, feeling her whole body tremble.

She thought that maybe this was the moment.

"What are you drinking? Wine?" He asked, but she shook her head.

She nodded, and he took the other glass from his bar without a word. She walked into the living room hesitantly, watching as he poured himself a drink.

He looked at her expectantly.

She saw the surprise in his eye, and then something like amusement flashed across his face. He made the drink she asked for and gave it to her.

"Vodka. Vodka with orange juice and ice." She said softly, the corner of her mouth lifted in a smile.

He walked around the couch and sat on it, sighing heavily, covering his face with his hand. She sat down next to him at a safe distance, pulling her legs under her buttocks, making herself comfortable. For a while they just drank their drinks in silence, not even looking at each other.

"My mother never stood up for me, and a strange girl did. Funny, don't you think?" He chuckled lowly, but he didn't sound like he was enjoying it at all. She dropped her gaze, sighing softly.

"I'm sorry. All my life I watched my mother humiliate my father. I tried to defend him, but one day he told me not to do it." She said, pressing her lips together, inhaling loudly.

She realized that she had never said that out loud to anyone. She was afraid to look at his reaction – after a moment, she turned to face him. He looked at her thoughtfully, his expression unreadable.

"Your father is a gambler." He said lowly, more stating than asking. She nodded, embarrassed, looking down, taking a sip of her drink, fiddling with the glass in her hand.

"Did your mother ever hit you?" He asked suddenly, and she looked at him in surprise.

"When she was angry with me, she pretended I didn't exist. Sometimes for a day, sometimes for a week. She didn't answer me when I spoke to her, she didn't look at me, she didn't make me breakfast or lunch, she didn't drive me to school. As if she didn't have a child." She mumbled and swallowed hard, feeling tears welling up under her eyelids.

She didn't want to tell him about it, in fact, she'd rather forget about it altogether – she looked away, her body began to quiver.

For a moment she was unable to utter a word.

"That's why I can't stand it, when you pretend I don't live here." She said with a shrug, tears running down her cheeks one by one.

"I have no intention of imposing on you and I swear, I didn't know my uncle would take my college money from you." She cried out, having more and more problems with breathing normally, her body shaking all over.

"Look at me." He said softly, almost mildly for the way he usually spoke. She was unable to comply with his request, her body froze completely, trembling slightly.

A strong, violent shudder went through her, as she felt his wide hand brush her thigh – she wasn't able to move as it traveled higher, to her hips, then lower again, to her knee.

She thought it was the alcohol, that they both didn't know what they were doing, but she felt wetness between her thighs anyway.

She shifted and twisted as she felt him tease her there with slow, gentle strokes of his fingers, wonderful, tickling sensation building inside her lower abdomen.

Her lips parted with a sigh as she felt his hand slowly move to her hips again, but this time it slipped between her thighs.

Her breath caught in her throat.

She didn't flinch as his thumb pushed the fabric of her panties aside and his fingers ran over her wet, throbbing, hot slit – she heard him draw in a whistling breath, her hand set her glass lightly on the table next to her, her breathing ragged and quick.

She thought that she needed this.

She desperately needed someone's closeness, relaxation, pleasure, acceptance.

Everything at once.

"Do you want me to stop?" He asked so quietly and uncertainly that she shivered.

She parted her swollen lips, his fingers pressing steadily against her folds, teasing her clit with słowy, circular strokes – she couldn't stop her hips from rolling towards his hand, a wonderful warmth spreading over her cunt every time he rubbed her.

"No." She whispered and he jumped up suddenly.

In one swift motion, he placed her on her side, laying down behind her back – she heard the sound of her belt being unfastened and shivered all over, her a drop of her moisture running down her thighs – she didn't look at him, breathing loudly just like him, wondered what they were doing.

She squealed softly as he pulled her against him, feeling the material of his shirt against her back, his hot breath, his mouth against her ear, his nose teasing her cheek.

"– how about we get to know each other better now? – for the sake of our common, platonic acquaintance –" He hummed, she heard him undo his trousers, his throbbing, hard manhood hitting her buttocks hidden under her dress.

She felt a tickling heat run through her body at the sensation.

A soft moan escaped her lips as she felt him slide her panties off her thighs in one, swift motion, his large hands pulling up the fabric of her dress so that she could feel him now, hard and swollen.

"– y-yes – I guess –" She mumbled embarrassed, unable to believe that these words left her mouth – it seemed to her that everything around her was hazy, her head was spinning with lust and desire.

She thought it was pathetic, but all she wanted was to feel him inside her.

She involuntarily lifted her thigh, allowing him to slip in, rubbing against her hot juices. She heard him inhale loudly at the sensation, snuggling her closer to his chest. They both sobbed as the tip of his cock began to press against her, pushing a little into her throbbing, fleshy inside.

"I'll just slide him in for a moment." He whispered, panting with her, their bodies shivering as he thrust deeper into her, pushing her hot walls to the limit.

"Mhm" It was all she could muster.

She moaned sweetly as he slid all the way into her, then began to move inside her suddenly, imposing an intense, fast pace, his thighs slapping wetly against her buttocks, soaked in her juices. They both gasped loudly and groaned alternately, her hand tightening on his arm which wrapped around her waist.

"Jesus Christ" He panted, feeling how tight she was, clenching around him, all hot and wet.

He sped up even more, thrusting into her more aggressively, his cock digging in with a loud slap, stretching her throbbing, swollen muscles, they both felt surprisingly close to fullfilment. He tightened his hand on her thigh which he held slightly up, allowing himself to thrust even deeper.

She sobbed loudly, as she felt his cock rubbing her exactly where she needed to, building up unbearable tension in her. She could feel his hot, quick breath on her cheek, she knew he needed it as much as she did.

If she could think coldly at that moment, she would wonder why he didn't go to his woman, but right now all she wanted was to be fulfilled.

"I'll stop soon, I promise" He whispered in her ear, and she felt such a strong shiver at his words, that she just came. She sobbed loudly, her eyebrows twisted in pain, her mouth parted in a silent moan. She heard him groan low, feeling her walls begin to tighten on him, his thrusts quick, brutal and sure.

"Oh, fuck, yes" He gasped loudly and came hard, moving for a moment longer, his cum flowing in waves inside her. They were both panting, trembling in disbelief, his terrified voice rousing her.

"You're taking pills, right?" He asked as if the pleasure had taken away his common sense. She just nodded, not having the strength to say anything.

She heard his loud exhale of relief, then his nose buried in her hair. They lay there, trying to calm down, she felt his chest rise and fall steadily, his soft cock still throbbing inside her.

She felt that both of them realized what they had done. He slid out of her suddenly, and she covered her buttocks with the dress, swallowing loudly.

She could feel his cum flowing out of her straight onto the couch. He saw it as he got up, zipping up his pants. He swallowed hard, looking at her with black eye. He got up from the couch, obviously not knowing what to say for a moment. In the end he managed only two words as he headed towards his bedroom.

"Good night."

_____

Aemond Taglist:

(bold means I couldn't tag you)

@its-actually-minicika @notnormalthings-blog @nikstrange @zenka69 @bellaisasleep @k-y-r-a-1 @g-cf2020 @melsunshine @opheliaas-stuff @chainsawsangel @iiamthehybrid @tinykryptonitewerewolf @namoreno @malfoytargaryen @qyburnsghost @aemondsdelight @persephonerinyes @fan-goddess @sweethoneyblossom1 @watercolorskyy @astral-blossoms @randomdragonfires @amirawritespoorly @apollonshootafar @padfooteyes @darylandbethfanforever9 @fudge13

[blankwashed]

Content Warnings: 18+ stuff here, ddlg (daddy dom, little girl), broken family, pretty rough sex, Toji himself should be a warning-

You let out a big sigh. It was probably the hardest or easiest essay you have ever gotten academically. It was an easy question for the rest of your classmates as they were happily writing away about their parents or guardians, thinking about the happy holidays and birthdays that they have received throughout their life.

15 minutes have passed and your paper was still blank, without even a paragraph structure. What could you write about your father? Sure, he wasn’t your actual father per se but your mother married him ever since you were a child so that counts, right?

At the age of 6, your mom kept going out on Friday nights, leaving you to be taken care of by your aunts and uncles. She would leave until it was Sunday night when she picks you up and brings you home. In the mind of a little child, you figured she went out for work purposes but in reality, she was going on dates with a special man whom you would eventually call dad.

Sometimes, she leaves you at home with food already prepared and brings him over. Of course, she would place your toys around the television and goes into the bedroom with the man. As you were innocent, you thought that they were both talking about business as your mother always looks pleased whenever she comes out of the room. A little tired, but a smile on her face.

This went on for 2 years until she came to you saying that you’ll finally have a father figure in your life. Of course, he was your father. The striking, muscular, tall man built like a soldier. Sometimes he made your heart beat faster and louder when he was around the home minding his own business. He watched you grow up into the gorgeous and pretty girl you are now. Attending teacher-parent meetings when necessary, signing documents and being your personal chauffeur whenever you and your friends wanted to go for outings to malls.

Behind all of that, you kept a deep and dark secret from everyone. Something you would not even tell your best friend or even a fly.

“Nyah! Daddy, sore from P.E. class yesterday! My teacher asked us to run laps and I think I overdid myself-“

He thrusted himself deeper into your dry pussy while his fingers were forming quick circles around your clitoris.

Sure, he filled the gap in your mom’s life when your actual dad left. But that wasn’t the only thing he was filling. Toji isn’t blind or stupid. Maybe a little out of his mind but as a man, he watched you grow up. Breasts forming, hips enlarging. It would be a lie if you say you didn’t secretly touched yourself thinking about him.

“No buts, bitch. Today was a hard day at work and the only thing that could make my day is your tight pussy. Mmm, thankfully it’s still tight,,,,,” He pushed himself deeper multiple times while playing with your clit. You were in pain due to the lack of foreplay and you remembered an idea you had in school during Arts class.

It was always something you’ve wanted to try. Running towards your school bag, rummaging through all your utensils.

Found it. A thick flowy strip of red ribbon.

“C‘mere daddy, let me decorate you before I feast on you,” smirking while tying a beautiful ribbon around his leaking hard cock. “Look daddy! It’s giving me a reward for making it look so appealing~” you said, referring to the trickles of pre-cum dripping.

Toji was about x years older than you. This wasn’t the first time he saw a chick gawking (no pun intended) at his length. Obviously that was also the way your own mother knew that he was the man for her.

“Getting creative, are we? Let daddy reward you for giving our play-time a little more effort,” he says lowly while playing with your left nipple with his tongue. His big hands always perform wonders on the rest of your body while his prize winning cock was busy elsewhere on your body.

Your moans were and are melodies to his ears. You weren’t big on being able to form sentences while getting fucked silly, however…

“Please daddy! I-I’m your little dirty slut, make me come daddy! I need it, I NEED you! Daddy…” you tried to touch your clit with your fingers but they were swatted away by his hand.

“When has it ever been about what you want, toy?” he spit on your pussy, and started to rub vigorously. It was in no way pleasurable and it hurt.

You knew he was doing this on purpose and knew that it wouldn’t get better if you kept disobeying his commands. With both your mom and Megumi away, he made you sit on the family’s dining table. Pushing away everything that could be in the way of him and you.

He pushed you down, readying himself to slurp on his wet, awaiting treasure. You were still a mess, moaning and screaming his name. “Daddy please, don’t make me wait any longer, please daddy,,,” your toes start curling and you could feel the long awaited climax reaching.

“Cumming daddy!!! Shit, I fucking love you-“ you screamed as you came while holding onto his broad shoulders. Your mind was as if it was in a different world, a world where Toji, your step-dad was yours. Where you didn’t have to hide your feelings towards him and you could touch him romantically and sexually in public.

so fucking horny for toji, are we???? (we as in me)

[shinjisdone]

Ticking Springs

(A Yandere Pinocchio X fem!Reader fic from Lies of P)

Pɑɾt 1; Sluɱbeɾ

Here is: capitolo uno

Capitolo due

Capitolo tre

Capitolo quattro

Capitolo cinque

Capitolo sei

Capitolo sette

Capitolo otto

Capitolo nove

Capitolo dieci

Pɑɾt 2; Awɑƙeƞiƞƍ

It was a privilege to share the same blood as Giuseppe Geppetto. To be his family, his niece and take part in the marvelous worlds of puppets. The privilege to learn from him as his apprentice. The privilege to care for the things he cares for and to have the things he cares for, care deeply for you.

Tag List:

@greeknerd007 , @mitsureigen , @kame11a , @thirdblogsacharm , @sarah22447 , @blueberryhitosh1 , @written1nthest4rs , @huicitawrites

TW: Yandere behaviour, creepy and still puppet, dubious intentions and relationship, still in WIP more warnings may occurr in time

The rain poured and poured upon the workshop's roof. It seemd to have been doing so for the past week but, judging from the humming evidently resounding from the room deep within the building, the only resident there did not seem to care too much.

The floors creaked in the room, still old and dusty - especially compared to the rest of the rooms in the house - but she was sure this was a simple and temporary oversight of her uncle. The rain may pour with a few thunder growling outside but she had long not been a little and frightened child anymore. Even so, the humming was her way of keeping herself company.

Even at the attempt of putting the old, amateur tools neatly away, they still fell to the ground and she had to keep getting them back up. That was admittedly vexing. Still, the song in her head and the flickering of the lamp above were enough.

Finally, the arm would move a bit more freely. She had long learned that her hands would get dirtied but to have this amount of oil taint her skin for such a meek but precious doll was still surprising. She wouldn't tell Uncle that though. Yet, with a deep breath, she took the small paintbrush back into her palm.

"...I know you..." The humming turned into soft singing as she cocked her head for a better angle. "...I walked with you, once upon a dream..." Stopping for a moment to catch her breath, she tilted the doll further to the light. A noise of confusion errupted before she got an idea.

"I know you, that glint in your," She halted for a second to catch her thoughts as the blonde locks didn't exactly seem to stick on her head. She quickly opened the drawer next to her, yelped at the loud creak, before fishing out a needle. The singing went from a piano to a forte. "Eyes is so familiar, a gleam..."

Finally, the wig would stay tight. She hoped.

For safety's sake, she pulled on one lock and found herself glad that it stayed put. "And I know it's true, that visions are seldom all they seem...but if I know you..." Soon, her hands went to the hems of the dress and checked the fabric. It wasn't as blue as it used to be and she wondered if she should make an exact copy but just in pink. That is sure to impress.

"...I know what you'll do..."

Eyebrows scrunched up in thought. Would he even recognize it's the same doll then? Surely, an skilled puppet maker like Uncle certainly would...but his memory at this old age? She didn't know.

With a sigh and a shake of her head, she let it be. That gives it character - and even if it does not, the memory of her percious ol' doll still delights her to this day, even as an adult. With a swing, she got up from the plush stool and danced with the toy as she did as a kid. It is the quality that will certainly impress.

"...You'll love me at once, the way you did once...upon a dream~!"

Soon, the thunder growled loueder and it was easy to reckon another resident entered the workshop at this late hour. Heavy footsteps followed with quiet grunts of how the entire entrance was now wet. The doll was quickly tucked and hidden inside the drawer and lighter, faster footsteps sped down the stairs. The man tunred to the source of ecxitement as he took off his drenched hat.

"Welcome back, Uncle Geppetto."

He greeted you in return. "Thank you. You're up and about this late." The gentleman hung his hat on the rack before removing each layer of wet clothes off with with frustration. The rain - no, storm - has been dragging him down the past week.

Cleaning his monocle dry, he put it back on to get a good look at you. Hands patted down the stained and old striped pants of his that he borrowed you from younger times. It was when you so abruptly arrived and was meant to serve as a sort of substitute - but you both agreed it was time to treat the old thing as a worker's outfit, held up by the old straps for as long as they still could and not grieving once the entire set is done and dusted. Only a few more uses left, before it will be thrown out entirely. Or cut up and used as a rag. Or as some substitute clothing for a puppet your size.

Finding a suitable shirt wasn't hard. All that was needed was one of yours that was allowed to get dirty, stained and ripped. Your mother was first hesitant to send you any of your good clothes if it meant being anywhere near the workshop. Yet she was still eager to use the opportunity to finally get rid of your old clohtes she wasn't too keen on. The shoes belonged to your father, a pair she found lying around and didn't have the heart to throw those ones away.

Yet, it was your hands neatly hidden behind your back and your honest smile that caught Geppetto's brown eyes.

"I take it you have been a good girl while I was gone?" Just as you were about to answer with an high 'Of course, Uncle.', the man quickly continued. "Good girls go to bed at this hour."

You sigh. "Oh, Uncle," Your shoulders fell, "I understand but I am no child anymore." "Child or not, nothing good comes from being up at this unholy hour. You don't have to wait for me to come home, dear. You know I have the key and go and return whenever the puppets call me." He laughed but was clearly shivering from the cold. Even his gray, thick beard and mustache were dripping with cold raindrops.

"Now, come on. Get tidy and sleep. Nothing can be done this late, let's continue tomorrow." Geppetto sniffed, scratching his nose and walked towards the living room. Through the small hallway, he passed a few naked puppet forms, put aside for a project he had initially forgotten. The sight of them makes him sigh.

Yet so were your quick footsteps, following him. "You say that but we haven't done anything the past week. I am already done with fixing up the butlers." You meant to point at the two butler puppets, their coats and paint fresh and done but Geppetto had long passed them and so did you. "They..still malfunction, slightly, but I have done what you asked me to, Uncle."

For a moment he looked back before sighing again and stopping. You manage to stop before bumping into him. "...I will take a look at those tomorrow. I cannot think now, I cannot give you an answer right now, dear. Just wait and do as I say. We can discuss more with fresh minds and fresher bodies."

Without hesitation you closed your mouth shut and nodded. You could tell he was not in the mood to discuss your apprenticeship and your impatience. He took your obedience with a smile and a nod. "Good night, then, (Name). And don't have me catch you out of your bed at this time again. You'll see that this behaviour will only bring you consequences."

With a single pat on you shoulder which left it wet, Geppetto left to his bedroom without another word. You hid your disappointment as you went to your own before reminding yourself to tidy up, just as he asked you to. He may be treating you like a child but you supposed that does not make his words any less wise. You did not wish to upset him even more now, anyway.

As you followed your uncle's request, your humming resumed though quieter. You found your routine to be over quite quickly due to the exhaustion you evidently but still, frustratingly, felt. Good thing Uncle was not there to witness it.

Still, with a resolute peek, you looked over the doll you hid which mended your disappointment even a little bit - before heading off to bed.

Even as your humming grew quieter, the tones still resounded in the dark room below. The third resident did hear, unlike your uncle.

ok, I NEEDED to write this, this has been on my mind an entire week. i have...so much brainrot and ideas.

female reader, niece of geppetto and apprentice when krat was stil o-kay

but things kinda go???? bad??? haywire???

geppetto going insane and weird haha

reader going from naive to AAAAAAA

kinda??? weird relationship with geppetto???

angst

angst from the past

i kinda wanna have the reader and pinocchio to also have a dubious relationship??? Like, its not gonna be fluffy wholesome

yandere~ mute~ creepy~ puppet~ literally not saying a word, no pov from his side just - actions. yandere actions.

not sure how to intertwine this with the story. im not too caught up with it (unlike pino's eyes) but i really dont know if i should even include gemini or sophia. kinda like??? au?

youre stuck with the puppet

also not sure if there is like- sexism and shit in there. its like the victorian era but an FANTASY victorian era

ppl gonna be mean t you

Lies of P Pinocchio: *exists*

me:

[apomaro-mellow]

Demon!Eddie 5

At some point, Eddie had cleaned Steve up a little and dressed him in a tank top and shorts. The shirt had a band he’d never heard of but maybe Eddie would tell him about it sometime. Steve had tried to get up on his own only to immediately fall back onto the bed when he felt a sharp pain. That would be last night, coming back to literally bite him in the ass.

“Job hunting’s gonna have to wait”, Eddie grinned.

Eventually they migrated to the couch back in the apartment, Eddie lying on his back and Steve right on top of him. He found it very easy to imagine if the rest of his life was like this. In Eddie’s clothes, in his place, completely surrounded by him.

Steve didn't even know where his clothes from the first night went and he didn't give a flying fuck. Not when he was laying on top of Eddie, getting his lower back rubbed.

"Don't get a big head about it. That was the first dick I ever took."

“I didn’t say anything”, Eddie said.

“I can feel it in your hands”, Steve replied before letting out a soft hum as Eddie’s fingers pressed a spot on his spine. 

The morning was spent so lazily and for the first time in a long time, Steve wasn’t thinking about his future or what he was supposed to do about it. He just relaxed in Eddie’s hold. The only time he worried was when Eddie got up to say he was making breakfast. Steve ignored any soreness to confirm if his suspicions were correct.

And to his horror, Eddie dumped ground coffee into a pot, filled it with water, and then set it all on the stove. 

“You’re an animal”, Steve said.

“I think we established that last night”, Eddie smirked.

“I’m talking about your coffee set up. Where’s your coffee maker? Your filters?”

“What’s wrong with the way I make coffee?”

“Tony the tiger wouldn’t make it that way.”

Eddie’s retort was cut off by a knock on the door and a man’s voice. “Eddie? Edifice Edacity Edger you open this door right now!”

“Shit!”

“Who’s that?”, Steve asked.

“Uhh, that would be my uncle. Stay here for a second and don’t make a sound.” Eddie pushed Steve towards the magic door and before Steve knew it, he was floating in a dark abyss.

He wasn’t in the lavish bedroom from before, nor was he in any of the places Eddie took him yesterday. It was just an endless void with no gravity. Steve was no stranger to hiding in girls’ closets, but this was definitely different.

“His uncle, huh...”, Steve whispered just in case. He wondered what he was like. Probably terrifying if Eddie was trying to hide him. Maybe he was closer to a more traditional demon and would’ve eaten Steve up or sucked our his soul.

Steve felt like he was flying and floating and descending all at the same time and just as he was starting to feel disoriented, he saw the light of the door opening right next to him and Eddie reaching in. Steve took his hand and was pulled back into the apartment.

“Wayne, this is Steve, my current contractor. Steve, this is my Uncle Wayne.”

Uncle Wayne looked more like the kind of guy who spent his free time at hardware stores and bait shops than a demon. But now Steve felt like it would be rude to ask.

“Hi there, sir. Nice to meet you.”

Wayne’s hands were on his hips as he looked Steve up and down. “Hmph. He’s easy on the eyes, I’ll give ‘im that. But you should know better than to be swayed by a nice face.”

“I’m not being swayed”, Eddie said. “It’s just taking some time to fulfill his request.”

Wayne gave him a disappointed look. Steve knew they were talking about him but couldn’t see what the exact problem was.

“You know how this story ends, son.”

Eddie crossed his arms. “No actually, I don’t. Why don’t you enlighten us, oh wise storyteller.”

“Eddie, don’t be rude to your uncle”, Steve chastised. 

Wayne held up a hand. “He’s a brat, but he ain’t misbehavin’. But my official designation is ‘storykeeper’.”

“A what?”

Wayne waved a hand and glowing tomes materialized all around them. “Every single person that has ever existed, has a story to tell. Demons too. When a life ends, everything gets compiled and their story comes into my hands.”

“So...you know everything that’s ever going to happen?”, Steve asked in awe.

“I’m not omniscient. I only know what happens when the story’s over. But after doing this for as long as I have, you start to notice patterns.”

“And what’s my pattern?”, Eddie raised a brow.

“How does bullheaded young buck gets too caught up in one deal sound? Does that sound like a fit?”

“I’m not-” Eddie rolled his eyes but made the mistake of looking at Steve while doing so and had to quickly avert them.

“I don’t understand how any of this works, but is Eddie doing anything wrong? We have a deal and he’s seeing it through”, Steve said in his defense.

“Most demons ain’t so thorough”, Wayne answered.

“You and I both know most demons ain’t honest either”, Eddie said.

“Eddie, get the deal done. And move on.”

Eddie didn’t respond but Wayne wasn’t waiting for one, already on his way out the door. Steve waited for the door to close to speak again.

“Am I....are you breaking any rules because of me?”

“Rule breaking is a part of my creed, baby. But technically, no. Wayne’s right, most demons would’ve set you up in a new place with a new name and considered their job done. But I pride myself on my customer service.”

Steve smiled. “Right. You serve all your customers the same way?”

Eddie saw the way Steve was looking at him and faltered. “N-no. No, I don’t. But you’re special.”

It certainly made Steve feel special to hear it straight from Eddie. He got the deeper meaning of Wayne’s warning. They were both supposed to be very short chapters in each other’s lives. Ships passing in the night or whatever. Steve knew, once he had figured out what he wanted, Eddie would leave and he’d never hear from him again.

“I think I’m all rested up now. Let’s keep looking.”

“You sure?”, Eddie asked.

“Yeah. After we get some decent coffee.”

--------------------------

Maybe it was because of his uncle’s words, but Eddie kept his distance for the next few jobs. Steve tried not to mind too much. He was going to have to do whatever he chose without Eddie anyway. He spent the rest of the morning into the early afternoon in a summer camp, working as a sports counselor. 

He had plenty of fun teaching some boys the basics of basketball and running them through drills and even getting through a mini game that they all seemed to enjoy. After a couple periods though, he had a free moment and explored the camp. He ended up being wrangled by a group of boys who needed some muscle for a satellite project.

“I didn’t even know we did this kind of thing at this camp”, he admitted, while lugging around machinery he couldn’t even begin to name.

“Yeah, no duh. You sports counselors barely leave Jock Row”, one kid snarked.

“You should come by the Arts and Sciences building some time”, another said. “We’re always doing something cool.”

“Even if it’s not totally legal!”, the one who had grabbed Steve beamed.

“Uh, what’re you guys’ names again?”

“I’m Dustin, the nice one’s Will, and those two are Lucas and Mike.”

“How does Will get ‘nice one’?”, Lucas asked.

“You know Will’s the reason your cabin didn’t get Cinnamon Toast night, right?”, Mike said.

Dustin gave such a gasp, Steve was worried he’d swallowed a lung.

“Our cabin had to do it with biscuits! How could you?”

“They made it a competition and that’s the one kind I can win”, Will shrugged.

They made it to their destination and Steve followed their disjointed directions but eventually the satellite was built and they were talking to the girls camp across the lake. It was completely juvenile and fun and Steve couldn’t remember the last time he’d done something like this. 

The lunch bugle rang and Steve was approached by a black and red frog while the campers went off to eat.

“And what have you been up to? Frog stuff?”

Eddie croaked, then hopped a couple times in place. Steve crossed his arms.

“I’m not picking you up like this. You’re all, slimy. And you look poisonous.”

Frog-Eddie croaked and hopped onto his shoe, still urging at him but Steve was a rock. Eddie transformed back into himself, wearing the camp t-shirt and red shorts that was the counselor uniform.

“You weren’t so picky about my fluids last night”, Eddie smirked, while wrapping his arms around Steve.

“Yeah there’s a difference.”

“I’ll keep that in mind, beautiful~ Lunch and then on to the next?”

“Let’s.”

----------------------------

Eddie had zero idea why Steve wanted to work in an office. But hey, who was he to judge? At least he wasn’t trying to be a cop anymore. 

Steve really just wanted to experience office culture for himself. It was the sort of thing his father had been setting him up for. Before the ritual sacrifice of course. He was put on mailroom duty and that was where he met his worst enemy - Robin Buckley.

She sneered and scoffed at him most of the time. And when she deigned to use words, her comments were always biting. Delivering mail wasn’t too bad, except the fact that most of the employees barely looked him in the face while delivering. He came to the break room and Robin was already there. He tried to ignore her while getting a yogurt from the fridge.

He leaned against it when another guy came in. Steve was pretty sure his name was Kenneth.

“Hey, it’s the mailroom crew!”, he smarmed while refilling his mug with coffee. “You know Robin you should, maybe not scowl so much the boys here appreciate a nice smile.”

Kenneth walked out before he could see Robin’s megawatt dirty look. She glanced at Steve and saw he had the same look as her.

“What an asshole”, Steve said.

“That’s putting it lightly. There’s so much as, there’s no hole left”, Robin snarked.

Steve slid over closer to her so they could continue to talk in whispers. The people here were jerks but he might choose to work with them one day.

“At least he’s better than Nick.”

Robin wretched with her tongue out. “You know he slept with Norma at the Christmas party?”

Steve raised a brow. “Nick? With the ring on his finger and the happy family picture in his cubicle?”

“Yeah.”

“Scumbag.”

They spent more than was probably allowed on their break, trading gossip. Steve only got distracted when he saw a very attractive janitor roll by with his mop and bucket. Without a word, he walked off and followed him right into the closet.

“You’ve been wandering around more”, Steve said as the door closed.

“Just tryina give you space baby. Wouldn’t wanna influence your decision”, Eddie grinned, taking the cap off his head.

“And what if my decision was to blow off work and have some fun with the cleaning guy in the broom closet?”

“Sounds like the opposite of climbing the corporate ladder”, Eddie grinned while unzipping his jumpsuit.

“The opposite of climbing is what again?”, Steve said as he sank down to his knees.

Part 7

Tag Team

@swimmingbirdrunningrock @flustratedcas @estrellami-1 @weirdandabsurd42 @lololol-1234 @chaoticvictorianspirit @giopandaonice @marklee-blackmore @blackpanzy @kacatshi @stevesbipanic @goodolefashionedloverboi @panicatthediaz @gregre369 @littlewildflowerkitten @starryeyedpoet17 @envyadams-vs-me @abbiecadabi-blog @genderless-spoon  @stxrcrossed186 @l0st-strawberry @willowsmelody @bornonthesavage @mxmakessense @roaringgoodshow @potato-of-the-lord @actualwakingnightmare @meccaminayah @irregular-child  @cherr1ehead @anaibis @finalmoondragon @sani-86 @bestwifehaver @tinyplanet95 @mc-i-r @abstractnaturaldisaster @livgil273 @crowley--aziraphale @formacoon @slv-333 @just-a-tiny-void @beckkthewreck @awkwardgravity1 @plasticcrotches

[browniesarethebest]

Hi hiii, I'd read your Robin in a nest of bats a while ago, and found it again recently. Its, I'm my opinion, one of the best reverse Robin's au's out there. I'm not sure if it's a headcanon, but pretty much every Damian and Dick fic has damian sometimes calling Dick baba. Could you write a fic where Dick see's Damian as a father figure, and calls him dad in either Romani or Arabic?

Aw thank you! You got it!

Dick believed he was cursed to lose everyone he loved.

Maybe it was an exaggeration, but Dick had already experienced so much loss during his short life. After losing his parents, Dick thought there was nothing left to live for in this world. Thankfully, Bruce had been kind enough to take him in and give him a new family. He had siblings and aunts and uncles...

...and a father again.

The pain from losing his parents would never truly go away, but his new family's presence was able to soothe it, and Dick let himself believe that he could give his heart freely.

He should have known that nothing good lasts forever.

Dick didn't really remember the moment he was told that Bruce died. He remembers screaming and screaming and screaming, but other than that it's a blur. He remembered someone holding him, though he wasn't sure who. He just knew that the arms were strong and warm, and they were the one thing keeping him from falling to pieces, never to be put back together again.

There was a terrifying moment when he came back to himself where he wondered where he would go. He had no trust in the Gotham Family and Children Services, and they certainly had no love for him. There was no way Dick would get a third chance, and he knew that if he went back in their custody, he would certainly die.

Even if it was by his own hand-

Not to mention that Jason and Tim were also under the spotlight. Tim was a little safer since he was 17, and GFCS weren't really looking to find another place for him, but Jason was 13 and also prime for the taking.

Thankfully, Damian fought hard to keep them in the family. Dick had seen Damian angry before, but never like this. He could still see the social worker cowering as Damian ripped into them for even thinking of taking his brothers away. Dick had been hiding behind him, clinging to Damian for dear life. The rest of his family surrounded him, eyes shadowed as they glared at the social worker. The man practically ran from the Manor once it was clear that Damian was not letting them go.

Dick never mentioned the fear he had seen in Jason's eyes that day, and Jason never mentioned it either.

Dick had never really cared for Bruce's money before, but he was thankful for it when Damian hired the best lawyers available. It wasn't an easy fight, but the court was no match against the unstoppable force that was Damian, Steph, and Cass.

Even after being being told that he and Jason could stay with them, the Manor still received random "wellness checks" to make sure that they were being taken care of properly. It pissed Dick off to no end, but Steph explained that Bruce had gone through the very same thing when he had first started taking in kids. It didn't really make him feel better, but he figured that if Bruce had been fine, Damian would be fine too.

Dick's family was slowly falling apart around him. Tim had run off to prove that Bruce wasn't really dead, and Stephanie had followed after to make sure he didn't die. Jason was locking himself up in the library more and more, and he knew that Cass would often sneak in and sit with him as a silent support. Dick found himself gravitating towards Damian more and more, following the man around like a duckling as he put out metaphorical fires and worked on transferring everything to his and Steph's name.

With everyone else either gone or distracted, it was Damian who primarily took care of Dick. Despite how busy Damian was with his new responsibilities, he still made time for Dick. It was Damian who read to him when he asked. It was Damian's arms he woke up in after screaming himself awake from nightmares. It was Damian who held him while he cried for Bruce and took him out for ice cream after to try to make him feel better. It was Damian who made sure he still made it to school and ate three meals a day.

"You must keep your strength up," Damian said, hands on Dick's shoulders. "You have walked through Hell before, and you can do it again."

Dick's lip wobbled, "I don't know if I can. I'm tired, Dami."

His older brother squeezed his shoulders. "You will not be walking alone. You will never be alone again, not if I have anything to say about it."

The tears spilled over. "But you can't promise that! What if you die too?"

Damian's face spasmed for a moment before smoothing out. Dick didn't comment on it, still trying to keep himself together as best as he could.

His eyes widened in shock as he suddenly found Damian's arms around him, pulling him close to the man. He tensed up, unsure what to do.

"This will not be like the circus, Richard. Father and I have made sure of it. I won't say it's impossible that something will happen to me or our siblings, but even without us, you are not alone. Were anything to happen, multiple members of the Justice League, Timothy's Young Justice, and even Stephanie and Cassandra's Birds of Prey have volunteered to step up to take you in."

"Really?" Dick asked, breath hitching.

Damian pulled back, moving his hand up to cup the back of Dick's head. "Have I ever lied to you?"

Dick shook his head, too overwhelmed with love and relief to reply.

Dick knew that Damian was trying his best, going far out of his comfort zone to continue providing care and comfort to Dick. He was putting up such a strong front that it took Dick much longer than he believed it should have for him to realize that Damian was struggling too. Even after all the years living with Bruce, Damian still struggled with showing his emotions at times. Dick knew Damian believed he had to be the strong one for his siblings, but Dick thought the others sometimes forgot that Damian had lost his father too—his biological father.

Dick saw the cracks under Damian's shield one night when he went to Damian's room after a nightmare.

"Dami?" Dick whispered as he opened his older brother's door. Dick had expected his older brother to be asleep, but he was surprised to see Damian already sitting up and jerking in surprise at Dick's voice.

Damian cleared his throat and set something aside. "Ah, Richard."

Dick hesitated at the doorway. "Are you busy?"

Damian let out a breath and waved the boy over. "No. No, come in."

Dick climbed onto the bed and leaned against his older brother.

Damian glanced down at him. "Another nightmare?" Dick nodded silently, and Damian let out a sigh. "You can stay here tonight."

"Thanks, Dami." Dick's eyes drifted over to the item Damian had set aside. It looked like a picture frame. "What were you looking at?"

He felt Damian stiffen, and there was a beat of silence.

"...Did I say something wrong?"

"No! No." Dick flinched as Damian turned towards him. Dick still didn't look convinced, so Damian sighed and picked up the picture frame, holding it out for Dick to take.

It was a little difficult to see with only the light from Damian's lone lamp, but it looked like a much younger Bruce with a very young Damian. Dick swallowed back the sudden wave of tears and studied the photo closer. Damian looked to be about his age and was frowning in the picture while Bruce had a small smile on his face. Dick stared at the young Damian, resting his fingers on the glass above the boy's face.

"This was taken just a few months after I came to the Manor. I was still getting used to being with Father, but we had had a good day that day, and Alfred wanted to commemorate it."

"You look so grumpy. Were you always as grumpy as you are now?"

Damian rolled his eyes. "I suppose I was by your definition. Showing emotion often meant weakness in the League of Assassins, so I was taught to hide them. Even with Father's and everyone else's influence, that never really went away."

Dick beamed up at him. "That's okay! I like you just the way you are!"

Damian's eyes softened, and Dick couldn't help but feel proud that he could make Damian relax. "Thank you, Richard."

They both fell silent as they looked at the picture, before Dick spoke up again.

"Is hiding your emotions why you always call Bruce 'Father?' Did you always call him that?"

"Somewhat, yes. 'Father' is a less emotional word than 'Dad' or 'Tati' as you used with your own father, as well as any other word. It also showed the respect I felt for him as I had been raised on stories about him from my mother before meeting him when I was ten."

"So, you always called him that?"

Damian was silent for a moment. "...No. When I was very young, I would call him 'Baba' around my mother. It is the Arabic word for 'father.'"

Dick blinked before smiling. He wrapped his arms around Damian and closed his eyes, nearly falling asleep due to the late hour. "'Baba.' That sounds cool. Thanks for sharing with me, Dami."

"...You're welcome, Richard."

They fell asleep not long after that, both taking comfort in each other's presence.

Dick thought about that conversation a lot over the next few weeks. He and Damian continued to grow even closer. and Dick had a crisis as he realized he was starting to see Damian the same way he saw Bruce when he came to the Manor. Dick tried to deny it—Damian was his older brother, not a father figure—but Damian had taken on Bruce's role as his caretaker, and Dick could not deny that that had somewhat changed their dynamic.

Dick ended up avoiding Damian for a few days, wracked with guilt about replacing his dad and Bruce. He knew there was nothing wrong with seeing Damian as a father figure as he had worked through this guilt the first time it happened with Bruce (and a therapist), but he still couldn't help but feel this way.

It all came to a head when Dick was injured during patrol. One of Penguin's goons caught him by surprise and got a good hit in, resulting in Dick getting a concussion. Damian had rushed him back as soon as the Penguin had been captured, cursing the entire way. Dick wasn't sure he had ever heard Damian be so vulgar.

The ride back was a blur—one moment he was in the Batmobile and the next he was being tucked into bed by Damian. Dick squinted up at Damian, struggling to figure out what was happening, but Damian was being unusually gentle, and Dick was tempted to just lay back and enjoy it while he could.

"D'mi...?"

"Get some rest, Richard. You are suffering from a concussion, but you should feel better in the morning. I will be here to wake you every few hours to check on you."

Dick hummed. Sleep was quickly claiming him, and his bed felt so nice. If Dick closed his eyes, he could almost imagine that it was Bruce and not Damian. Dick felt a pang in his heart, but he was far too exhausted for it to have much effect.

"'Kay... Night, Baba..."

He heard Damian inhale sharply, but Dick was asleep before he could ask.

(When Damian tried to bring it up the next morning, Dick would have no idea what he was talking about.)

[aceghosts]

DEAD MAN WALKING

Series Summary: In February 2005, Captain Hunter Delaney is tragically killed in action on a BSAA mission in Northern Canada. After their death, scientists and BSAA agents related to the mission start to die. Albert Wesker intends to find out who is killing them, hoping to use this stranger to his advantage. Rating: Mature Warnings: Canon typical violence, Body Horror, and unethical experimentation on humans. Mentions of a corpse, death, and torture. This is a horror fic with eventual romance; you have been warned. If I need to tag for anything else, please let me know.  Words: 3,341 words.  Author's Note: Chapter title comes from Placebo's Infra-Red. I didn’t mean to take this long between the first chapter and the second chapter. Good news is that I hope to have another chapter out for you at the beginning of November.  AO3

CHAPTER 2: FORGET YOUR RUNNING, I WILL FIND YOU

A few months later…

Albert parks the black Mercedes in front of the two-story brick house. Hidden out of the way in this idyllic neighborhood, the quaint home was perfect for someone portraying himself as a simple family man. It was a terrible hiding place if you were Dr. Jeremy Fuller, a man stupid enough to steal from Albert Wesker. Perhaps, Jeremy wanted something familiar, knowing he was living on stolen time. From time to time, animals had been known to crawl back to their hovels, seeking comfort in their impending death. Jeremy must be like them; he certainly was as pathetic as a dying animal. Stepping out of the sedan, Albert closes the car door behind him, striding toward the front door.

Wait…He stops in his tracks, eyes narrowing behind dark shades. The red front door is open, showing no signs of forced entry. Had Jeremy already left with his family, hoping to avoid Albert? Or was poor, naive Jeremy simply setting a trap for him? Albert quietly tuts, shaking his head. Jeremy was only prolonging his suffering. The more annoyed Albert was, the more he would draw out Jeremy’s demise. He silently stalks towards the front door, hand slipping beneath his long, black coat, resting on his Samurai Edge.

Pushing the door open, Albert keenly listens for the sound of movement inside the home. He only hears the slow drip of a faucet, most likely from one of the upstairs bathrooms. The home is unnaturally quiet, devoid of any life. As he steps inside, Albert glances around the doorway, noticing the small unusual details, particularly that there were no signs of a frantic exit. Men’s dress shoes and a leather messenger bag are left by the door, presumably by Jeremy in preparation for his day at work. Albert kneels, inspecting the bag more. Jeremy’s laptop is still there. He must not have run, not at least without the laptop. Now, Albert had only one question: where was Jeremy?   

Starting his slow ascent up the stairs in the foyer, Albert eyes the family photos on the beige wall. Each photo is of Jeremy and his family, Jeremy looking so proud. He scoffs at Jeremy’s foolish pride. Relationships were weaknesses to be exploited. Albert used spouses, children, siblings, and grandparents to advance his agenda. People were so easy to manipulate, especially when they had someone to care about. One of the photos, a photograph of Jeremy and his family at breakfast, brings a memory back to Albert’s mind.

—

Albert unlocks the door to the Birkin home, stepping inside. Will gave him the key the moment Will and Annette had moved into the house. Albert pulls his boots off, dropping his bag beside them. Hearing the sounds of Sherry’s laughter, Albert heads towards the kitchen, wondering what mischief Sherry and William have gotten into now.

As he reaches the kitchen, Will turns, spotting and smiling at him. “Hey Al! Here for breakfast, huh?”

“Uncle Al!” Sherry exclaims, excitement shining brightly in her blue eyes. She runs over, hugging him tightly. After Will and Annette, Albert was Sherry’s third favorite person. She spent almost as much time with him as with her parents, which wasn’t much.

“Good morning, Sherry,” Albert greets her, petting Sherry’s head as she fondly releases him. He shakes his head. “No, I’m here to make sure you go to the lab today. We have more work to do.”

Will groans. “We would have more time if you didn’t have to play pretend with S.T.A.R.S.”

“That isn’t my choice. Spencer needs a man inside,” Albert replies, sliding a chair out and taking a seat next to Sherry, as she sits, vibrating with excitement, “We won’t have to do this much longer.”

“I hope so,” Will grumbles from the kitchen.

“Albert.” Annette greets him coolly as she strides into the kitchen.

“Annette.” Turning to Sherry, Albert asks, “How was school this week?” He catches Will giving him a ‘You got yourself into this’ look as Annette smirks.

Smiling brightly, Sherry launches into a long-winded explanation of how she aced her test, beating everyone in her class. As Albert takes in the simple domestic scene around him, he can’t help but feel slightly at peace here with his friends and their daughter.

—

A low growl escapes Albert as he shakes the silly memory from his head. He never asked Will if he regretted marrying Annette and having Sherry. Something like that would have been an off-topic subject for lifelong friends. Besides, Albert knew the answer. Annette and Sherry had been a weakness, costing Will his life. Even if Albert longed for the companionship of another, no one would be his equal, especially not after his transformation.

As Albert makes his way to the master bedroom, he passes the other rooms of the home, occasionally glancing towards the bedrooms. Jeremy’s son’s bedroom, Alan, looked as if he planned to return that afternoon. So did the daughter’s, Lizzie’s, bedroom. Interesting.

Reaching the master bedroom, Albert silently pushes the door open, surveying the room. No one waits for him in hiding, the bedroom completely empty. On the neatly made bed, Albert spies a yellow legal pad, a ballpoint pen lying beside it. Striding over, Albert picks up the pad, noting the deeply indented words marked on the paper. Narrowing his eyes, he notes that it is Jeremy’s handwriting, hastily scrawled, almost as if it were under duress. It appears to be a list of names, with the final name circled: Dr. Charles Griffin. Placing the legal pad down, Albert questions what Dr. Griffin had to do with this. As far as Albert was concerned, Dr. Griffin was an annoyance. An idiot masquerading as a genius. Dr. Griffin, delusional, believed his work would change the world. That honor would belong to Albert alone.  

Looking to his left, Albert notices the door to the master bathroom is slightly ajar. He approaches the bathroom, the damp carpet squelching under his feet as he nears the door. Albert raises a blond eyebrow, slowly pushing the door open. The tan bathroom tiles are slick with water as the tub faucet drips. Turning slowly, Albert finds the body of Jeremy Fuller, hands zip-tied behind his back as he kneels in front of the tub, face submerged. Fury rises in Albert as he stomps over to the dead body. Grabbing Jeremy by the collar, Albert pulls him out of the water, confirming it’s really the man he was looking for. He is going to kill whoever did this. If someone killed Jeremy, they were most likely after his sample. And Albert Wesker did not take kindly to thieves.

He releases Jeremy, who flops back face first into the water as it splashes over the edge of the tub. Stomping out of the bedroom, Albert swipes the legal pad from the bed, hoping that he isn’t too late to recover what belongs to him. If it was, this thief should hope that someone else gets to them first.

—

SLAM! His gloved fist dents the desk, pure fury pulsing through Albert’s veins. Everything, all of it, was gone. Jeremy’s monitors and towers were riddled with bullet holes, rendering whatever information Albert might get useless. The refrigerator, containing some samples, was a hollow husk, a grenade thrown in it first before someone deemed it appropriate to riddle it with bullet holes. It was all gone, including the stolen sample. A low growl escapes him, anger threatening to consume him. No. Albert was smarter than this. There had to be a clue about who had destroyed Jeremy’s lab.

As he heads back towards the stairs to the main level, he catches sight of a small door, slightly ajar. Pushing the door open, Albert finds a monitor hooked up to the security cameras, focusing on the outside of the property. He smirks, knowing that this might be the clue he needs. Flipping through the footage for a few minutes, Albert finds who he thinks might be responsible. The monitor’s grainy footage shows a tall figure approaching the property. They look up towards the camera, dark bangs peeking out from the red hood of their black and red sweatshirt. Most of their face is covered, most likely to protect their identity from anyone who would come after them. Someone like Albert Wesker. The figure is too far from the camera to make out any real identifying features. It’s also several feet up, well above anything that a normal human could reach. The stranger will most likely use their gun to destroy the camera.

Within the blink of an eye, the figure crosses the lawn, now in front of the camera. The stranger leaps up, face coming close to the camera. He briefly notices their faded green eyes, freckles splattered across their face, and a scar on the bridge of their nose, peaking out from underneath the mask. Eyes narrowed, the figure reaches for the camera, and the footage suddenly ends. Interesting. If the footage is correct, this individual shows a heightened capacity for speed and jump beyond any human. Were they infected? Possibly. He couldn’t decide either way until he had absolute proof. However, he did always wonder if there were others like Alex and himself, especially with abilities like his own. Most who underwent the transformation of their viruses were monsters, slaves to their own madness, and whoever held the other end of their leash. A small flicker of hope lodges itself in his chest, feeling slightly more optimistic. But he could not get too optimistic; he needed more proof.  

After copying the footage of the mysterious stranger, Albert heads back up to the main floor. He walks towards Jeremy’s messenger bag, wondering if he may find more information there. Kneeling by the bag, Albert rifles through it, finding Jeremy’s work cell phone. He smirks as he flips it open. The cell phone beeps, indicating someone left a voice-mail. Albert presses play, an unfamiliar voice speaking aloud:

“Jeremy, where are you? Dr. Ortiz is going to have your head on a pike! Please tell me you didn’t take up that psychopath, Griffin, up on his offer. I know he’s your old boss, but he isn’t worth it! Especially with those samples of that dead BSAA Agent!” Albert hears shouting in the background, presumably Dr. Ortiz. “Fuck, just get in here Jeremy!”

Dead BSAA Agent? Samples? The mystery thickens, and Albert wonders how this mysterious stranger fits in with the dead BSAA Agent. Revenge for a lost loved one, perhaps? But what need would they have to destroy Jeremy’s work? And what role did Dr. Griffin play in all of this?

—

Illuminated by the glow of the screen, Albert flicks through the Umbrella archives, courtesy of the Red Queen. Umbrella has little on Jeremy or Dr. Griffin. Jeremy appears to be one of Dr. Griffin’s known associates, an interesting coincidence. Umbrella has little information on his work but indicated that it would be a strategic move to recruit Dr. Griffin and his team. In fact, they appeared to be recruiting him when Raccoon City fell, taking Umbrella along with it. How unfortunate for them. His file did note that Dr. Griffin may need to be dealt with, especially if he refused their offer to take another opportunity at one of their competitors. The end of the file notes Dr. Griffin and his teams’ attempt to work on something to rival the Progenitor virus. An interesting note, clearly still unsuccessful.

Steepling his fingers, Albert wonders if Dr. Griffin finished his work on the virus. Was he successful? And how did this stranger relate to it? Were they cleaning up Dr. Griffin’s mess, on his or his employer’s payroll? Or were they working for someone else, a simple pawn on the chessboard? And what role did the dead BSAA agent play in all of this? No matter, Albert would make the stranger an offer they could not refuse. And if they did refuse? He would make sure they were removed from the game permanently. However, he needs to find the individual, and Dr. Griffin was his only lead.

A preliminary search shows that Dr. Griffin is under the watchful eyes of the BSAA. Interesting. What had the good doctor done to bring the BSAA down on him?

Getting into the BSAA files was easy. Agencies, like the BSAA, were always behind when it came to security, and like every other major player, Albert had his own men within the BSAA. Finding Dr. Griffin’s file, a photo of the man appears. Dr. Griffin frowns in his photo, pretending to portray a serious yet misunderstood genius. He snorts; Will was a genius, not this fraud. Dr. Griffin’s file lists his work, noting that he may be a serious threat. Albert smirks; Dr. Griffin is nothing compared to him.

He moves on to Dr. Griffin’s work, much of which is mediocre. Yet, Dr. Griffin’s current research sparks his curiosity as Albert pulls up a video, a recording of one of Dr. Griffin’s test subjects. A man in his late twenties-early thirties paces around the cell, clearly in distress.  “What did you do to me?” He wheezes, swaying as he paces back and forth. Something grumbles, and the man groans, hunching over as something ripples along his spine. Albert leans closer, inspecting the subject closer. Is-Is something moving beneath his skin? Fascinating. “WHAT’S HAPPENING TO ME?” He screams, a melodramatic shriek of pain. Another howl escapes him, and the subject mutates, bones cracking and skin ripping as he evolves. The subject writhes as his body transforms, movement eventually ceasing. A few seconds later, the subject moves, imperceptible to the human eye. His movements increase, the subject rising to its feet, two long appendages protruding from its wrists. The mutation marred the subject’s face, his body distorted from the transformation. It had turned him into a tyrant, not dissimilar to the ones Albert had worked on at Umbrella. The Tyrant looks up at the camera. With a quick motion, it whips one of the appendages, causing the video feed to cut out.

Disappointing. Dr. Griffin’s virus clearly needed more work, more than Dr. Griffin could ever hope to achieve. He pulls up the report regarding the BSAA’s capture of Dr. Griffin. The report lists five members as part of the team who arrested Dr. Griffin:

Agent Arthur Edwards-Alive Agent Patrick Hoffman-Alive Agent Natasha Russell-Alive Agent Kevin Zhu-Alive Captain Hunter Delaney-Deceased

Albert raises an eyebrow. Is Captain Delaney the dead BSAA agent that Jeremy’s colleague referred to in his voicemail? He searches Captain Delaney, pulling up their file, only to be greeted with a familiar pair of faded green eyes. In their file photo, Captain Delaney wears a confident smile, proud of their work. Albert snorts. What a fool. The BSAA was exactly like the entities it swore to fight. It was bloated by corruption, infected with spies from numerous organizations. His thoughts return to Captain Delaney, noting the two scars on their freckled face. Across the bridge of their nose runs a deep scar, only to be outdone by a large, gnarled scar on the left side of their lip. The scar on their nose seems similar to the one of the mysterious stranger.

Captain Delaney’s file notes that they had a promising career in the U.S. Air Force until a B.O.W. attack in Belgium in 1999. Thanks to the Captain’s leadership, their team made it out alive with a few civilian survivors, but something changed in Captain Delaney. Reports from their superiors note their warnings about bioterrorism, starting to become a pain in Leadership’s side. Captain Delaney seemed smart enough to recognize the potential threat that bioterrorism would become. Yet, they decided to play for the wrong side, leaving the Air Force to join the BSAA in 2002. If the U.S. Government was willing to let them go during the beginning of the war on terror, Captain Delaney must have kicked up quite a stir. What had occurred during the mission with Dr. Griffin that led to Captain Delaney’s untimely death?

Scrolling down to the mission reports, Albert opens Agent Arthur Edwards’ report, Captain Delaney’s second in command. Agent Edwards writes in his report: “Captain Delaney was infected by Dr. Charles Griffin with the prototype of his virus. Dr. Griffin informed the team that there was no hope for curing Captain Delaney. Captain Delaney’s infection progressed, and they started to mutate. To protect the team and ensure no further infection, I acted, terminating Captain Delaney. Due to my quick actions, no other members of the team were infected.”

Infected? Interesting. The figure in the grainy video showed no similarities to Dr. Griffin’s previous test subject. They appeared in perfect health, seeming mostly human. That was assuming that it even was Captain Delaney infected with the prototype virus. Glancing over at the yellow legal pad, Albert notes the names. All scientists who worked on the virus that killed Captain Delaney. This stranger was after Dr. Griffin’s team and most likely, Dr. Griffin, himself.

He mulls over the idea of this stranger being the dead Captain Delaney. Albert could not discount the physical similarities between the deceased Captain Delaney and the stranger. It would also mean there was another like him and Alex. Would they be as strong as he was? As fast? Albert’s mind races with many possibilities, eager to meet another tyrant like himself. So many of the other tyrants were rudimentary, animalistic creatures acting on pure instinct. None were the next step of humanity’s evolution like him. He smirks, knowing it was imperative to find this individual as soon as possible. The BSAA would have no idea what to do with a subject of this value, and Albert could not risk the chance that a rival corporation would get their hands on this individual. Albert would do whatever is necessary to gain the loyalty of this individual, possibly being too rare to eliminate if they were like him.

Taking out his cell phone, Albert dials a number. The phone rings a few times before the Lady in Red answers. “Wesker?” Ada Wong asks, her voice controlled. Yet he notes the slightest hint of nervousness. Did she think that Albert had finally come for her, to end her once and for all?

“Ada Wong,” He greets pleasantly, in control, “Long time, no talk.”

“It’s been a while,” She replies, slightly on edge.

While Albert would love to play with Ada, something more important was at stake. “I have a mission for you.”

“What do you want, Wesker? I’m already working on another mission.”

“I’m willing to double what your current employer is paying you. This mission is a priority. And,” Albert stresses, ”You owe me.”

Ada swallows nervously over the phone. “You must be desperate if you’re willing to up my fee,” She tries to play off her fear, but Albert knows she will obey, “What is this mission?”

“I need you to find someone. They may be dead.”

She’s quiet for a moment. “You need me to retrieve a dead person? What’s the catch?”

Clever girl, he thinks. Ada was always able to look past the bigger picture. Yet, it was a double-edged sword, especially when it came to that annoyance, Leon Kennedy. “This dead person may have killed someone: a Dr. Jeremy Fuller. I need you to bring them to me. If you bring this dead person in quietly, you will receive a bonus. I’ll also overlook your little indiscretion.”

“Deal.” No hesitation in Ada’s voice.

“Good. I will send you the information. I expect you to bring me results.”

“Don’t worry, I always deliver.” Ada hangs up, leaving him alone in the silence of the dark room.

Anticipation rises in Albert at the thought of Ada bringing Captain Delaney to him. If Albert was right about Captain Delaney being alive, they would be of great value to his research, but an even greater ally. He would make them one, no matter the cost.

Writing Taglist (Opt In/Out): @bbrocklesnar, @tommyarashikage, @voidika, @alexxmason, @sergeiravenov,

@clicheantagonist, @socially-awkward-skeleton, @imogenkol,

@carlosoliveiraa, @theelderhazelnut, @strangefable, @direwombat, @cassietrn,

@derelictheretic, @cloudofbutterflies92, @spookyrares,

[therealjordan23]

gwiles shitpost

ooo

The first thing Gwen had to do was tell Miles, and from some of the stories she had heard from other women, it was always one of the challenging parts. It wasn't supposed to be scary or difficult, but ever since the doctor confirmed her suspicions two weeks ago, anytime she tried telling Miles, she found the words die in her throat every time she opened her mouth. At this point, he must've been under the assumption that she had developed some form of memory loss.

The first night they were married, they had spent the night curled up in bed in Miles’ dimension. Too much had happened in too little time; they simply slept, wrapped up together all night. The next morning, Gwen woke up with her arm resting lightly against his bare chest, and she felt his steady heartbeat underneath her palm. She was relieved to find out that it wasn't a dream, and she had indeed gotten married to the man of her dreams. 

When he finally woke up an hour later, she kissed him with every ounce of passion she could muster, and they had truly become husband and wife in that one final threshold.

And now 4 months into the marriage, she was 2 months pregnant.

“Not that I don't like spending time with you," Hobie said thoughtfully. "But it's also dawn, Gwen. I thought you’d be asleep." 

Gwen had woken up early that morning, before the sun had begun to rise. She detangled herself from Miles' loving embrace, and pulled the covers up to his chin upon seeing goosebumps rise steadily on his chest from being exposed to the cold air. She kissed his forehead and silently dressed herself. Sneaking out, she headed to Hobie’s dimension where she knew he’d just be coming back home after a night of partying. True enough, she had found him, and together, they were taking a morning walk. 

"I needed to talk to you where other people wouldn't listen," Gwen insisted, sitting down on a tree trunk. "It's a secret."

"And Miles isn't in on this because…?"

"That's the problem."

She looked down at her hands and watched them shuffle and fidget. She'd been elated when she thought she might be pregnant, but she had to keep her excitement in check until she was sure. As soon as the doctor confirmed her suspicions, she took sudden permission from the universe to be as excited as possible. Truthfully she wasn't exactly sure if she and Miles were able to have children considering that they were from different universes. It was something they had accepted and talked about before tying the knot, and she was ecstatic to learn that yes, they were able to conceive children. Gwen wondered immediately if it would be a baby boy or girl, whether they would have a son or a daughter. She hoped the baby had her eyes and Miles' hair, and as much as she relished saying Gwen Stacy-Morales to herself often, she was even more excited that her children would share the same last name. Miles was the father of her children and she was the mother of his. 

She wanted to communicate all of this to Miles, but she never found the words.

"Talk Gwendy, what's wrong?" Hobie asked, taking a seat on the ground next to her.

"I'm pregnant."

Why was it so easy to tell Hobie and not Miles? Well, perhaps because Hobie had little stake in it other than being the fun uncle. She and Hobie would not be forever bound by this life that they both created and shared. 

That didn't stop him from turning pale and his eyes went wide. Gwen groaned.

"I don't know how to tell Miles, and you're freaking out, which means he'll definitely freak out, and it shouldn't be this hard! And at this point, he won't find out until I actually have the baby, and just say, 'Hi, this is yours', and, oof—!"

She was cut off by a very sudden and very tight hug. After a moment Hobie jumped back though.

"Sorry, I don't want to hurt you, love," he said, eyes darting to her still flat stomach and laughing nervously. "Congratulations Gwen! I’m so happy!"

Gwen smiled at that, and relaxed for the first time in days. "Really?" she asked.

Hobie looked at her in disbelief. "Are you daft? What do you mean 'really'? Of course, Gwen! Miles is basically my brother, you're like my sister!"

"I'm just nervous."

Hobie moved to kneel in front of her. "About what?"

"About what? About everything! Miles will lose his mind—"

"Why?" Hobie challenged. 

She fumbled for an answer. "B-because he's going to be a father! His entire world is going to change, and suddenly, we're going to have a baby to take care of—"

"Gwen." 

Hobie took her hands gently but with purpose. When she refused to look up, he put a few fingers beneath her chin and tilted her up until her eyes met his. And then he smiled the warmest smile he had ever shown her. 

"No one is going to make better parents than you and Miles," he said very plainly. "Miles was born to be a father, and despite not knowing if he could, he's always wanted kids. And you've always been such a kind, gentle, nurturing person. And even better, you two are in love. That's rarer than it should be when it comes to parents. Hell, I wish my parents weren't separated, but here we are, Gwen. Love between parents is rare to come across these days. I know you'll both love that baby with all your heart because you love each other."

It was surprising how deep Hobie could be, and he had a point. She had been elated in the first seconds of knowing she'd be a mother, because she knew that they were doing this together. That's what a baby was: two lovers coming together to create an entire universe made up of stars from his eyes, planets from her hair, comets from their skin.

"Tell him Gwen. I mean right now when you get home. If you don't, I can't guarantee I can keep quiet for long," he laughed.

She smiled, she leaned forward and kissed his cheek, gave his hair a stroke, and stood, opening a portal back to Earth-1610. Hobie gave her one last hug as she walked through the portal to the front door of their home. Gwen entered just as quietly as she'd left.

The house was still dark. In the bedroom Miles had moved, turning onto his side with his hands bunched beneath the blanket. He was still heavily asleep, his breathing very deep. Gwen took a deep breath. She kneeled in front of him and gently brushed her hands through his hair. It was always soft and thick and curly. She studied his features intently: he had grown up a lot from their teenage days. Miles grew to be around 6’2 while she stayed 5’10, keeping his hair relatively the same. He had a light stubble, and was a lot more filled out and lean.He began to stir slightly at the touches, his eyes slowly creaking open. She leaned forward and kissed him until his eyes opened completely and he kissed her back lightly.

"Are you awake?" she said.

"Hmfph," he gave as a response, his voice thick, blinking rapidly.

She fought back a laugh. "Are you really awake? It's important," she said.

Miles pulled a hand up to his eyes and roughly rubbed the sleep out of them before pinching at the bridge of his nose. He sat up, the blanket falling down and exposing his skin to the chilly morning air and he shivered. He gave his hair a once through with his own hand before turning to Gwen with clearer eyes.

"Sí, mi amor, I'm awake," he said, yawning. "Are you alright?" 

She took a deep breath through the nose, and told herself when she exhaled out would also come the news about the baby.

"I'm pregnant, Miles," she said.

He looked at first like he'd misunderstood her. Then his jaw fell open. His eyes looked down with such concentration she thought he might have been reading an invisible book.

But when Miles' eyes finally snapped back to Gwen, he smiled and his eyes were like fireworks. In one fluid motion he grabbed and pulled her in and rolled over. He tightly hugged Gwen who hugged him back. The anxious weight on her chest finally dissipated, and a garden of flowers replaced it. She told Miles, and it felt amazing.

He was whispering words of adoration in her ear while she just pulled at him tighter and relished the smell and feel of skin.

"I love you, Gwen," he said plainly and quietly.

"I love you too," she returned.

They spent half the day in bed, talking about names, taking bets on whose hair and eyes it would have. Miles insisted it would be the best Spider person; Gwen said she didn't care as long as they were happy and didn't set foot in an abandoned subway tunnel. He brought her food on a tray, insisted they'd buy all new food immediately, fresh food, he'd bring it to her whenever she needed. She laughed and told him it would be months before she'd truly need that.

It had been the best day of Gwen's life, but she knew there could only be one day that could outdo it.

But she'd have to wait 9 months. 

[upsidedownwithsteve]

I need to know that she's going to art school in philly. A reunion, maybe Eddie helping her move. Her meeting Wayne pls. love your writing!!

The acceptance letter came and two weeks later, you were on a flight.

It had been easy to pack up another suitcase, clothes and belongings flung into the bag, shoes still stained with mud from camp, Eddie’s sweater folded on top, his mixtape in your walkman, never taken out. You packed Polaroids in the front covers of books, printed emails folded neatly between the pages, the letter from the university tucked beside it.

You’d told your parents, got yelled at and then watched them cry. It was simultaneously the hardest and easiest thing you’d ever done. You’d spent the rest of summer at home, thinking you’d craved the camp grounds, the noise, the forest. But each email that pinged into your inbox brought the same excitement and eventually, you realised that it was Eddie you missed the most.

You called him the day the letter arrived. Hands shaking on the plastic receiver, the paper clutched to your chest and you stuttered and stammered your way through an introduction when his uncle

Wayne picked up but god, the feeling that came over you when the man yelled for his nephew and said, ‘it’s your girl, son,’ was completely and utterly indescribable.

You bought your tickets the next day. You didn’t have an apartment lined up, not yet. But your parents took you to the airport and they both hugged you, told you to stay safe and call them when you landed, so things didn’t seem as scary as they once did.

Eddie told you he’d meet you in arrivals and you spent the flight wondering if he’d changed, I’d he’d looked different, if he’d feel different when you hugged him. ‘Cause it had been almost six weeks since you last saw him and almost every bit of communication you’d had with him since had been in black and white, words on a computer screen.

Philadelphia looked like the biggest city you’d ever seen from the sky, and god, maybe it’s cause it was. You’d barely strayed from Michigan before, a summer spent in a forest in Indiana the most adventurous it had gotten. The plane seemed to skim the tops of skyscrapers as it came into land, the sky blue and the ground grey concrete and littered with cars that looked like multi-colored ants.

Big bridges, long stretches of water, roads that criss-crossed over each other and somewhere, hopefully, amongst the brownstones and suburbs, would be your future apartment. You dreamt about paint colours, thrift store coffee tables, how you’d get a couch in the front door, a bed you didn’t have to make every morning.

You thought of Eddie in it, more often than not, maybe, eventually. Eddie in your kitchen, a tiny space, more than likely, Eddie at the stove, sleepy eyed and shirtless with messy hair and coffee for you and him. You thought about the boy in your bed, a proper bed that fit both of you, where you could do more than just kiss and let hands wander.

Your stomach flipped at that, heart cartwheeling in your chest. But maybe that’s just because the plane had hit the runway with a bump and a jerk and oh my god? You were in Philadelphia.

Home.

Eddie was waiting where he said he would, his last email tucked under your arm with the rest of your documents, your boarding pass, your paperwork for the rest of your luggage that wouldn’t be arriving for another few days.

‘I’ll get you in arrivals,’ he’d typed. ‘I’ll be beside the coffee shop there, there’s a huge ass plant, look for that.’

Your heart thumped to the same rhythm of the roll of your suitcase, the wheels clickclickclicking over the tiles and everyone was simultaneously moving to slow and too fast at the same time. You wondered if Eddie smelled the same, if he used the same cologne, if he’d still smell like summer and rain and smoke now that he wasn’t at camp.

Would he look at you the same way? Would he still like you? Would he still want you? Was this a mistake?

You paused, chest heaving and eyes blinking back tears that were brought on with from the familiar feeling of panic but then you looked across the lounge and saw a face in the crowd, right next to a huge fern, right where he said he’d be.

Eddie looked the same, black jeans ripped at the knees, a T-shirt with a band logo on the front that you’d never heard of, faded and sun bleached. He looked a little tan still, like he’d spent just as much time outside in the city that summer as he had at camp. His hair was the same, except he’d cut his bangs, a tiny bit squint, just like he’d told you in an email. You knew there was a new tattoo on his right forearm, a line of trees in black ink, the keast metal thing on his body, he’d said. But it reminded him of camp and summer and a second home.

You couldn’t wait to see it, you’d told him.

You were walking over before you realised, your feet carrying you across the large room with less panic than you previously had. ‘Cause looking at Eddie was like waking up on a summer morning, hazy blue skies outside your bedroom window, cotton sheets, bed warm skin, the smell of sunscreen, rainstorms from the night before, coffee through pine tree forests.

It was familiar, comforting, like home.

He saw you then, grinned like you remembered, wide and all consuming, a bright stretch of a smile across his face, dimples deepening at the sight of you. You picked up your pace when he stepped forward, feet almost tripping over themselves and you flung yourself at him, suitcase rolling away abandoned.

Eddie caught you, groaning into your neck as his arms wound themselves around your waist and he sounded relieved. He smelled the same. Like smoke and rain and summer and Eddie and you clung to him, arms a vice around his neck, squealing when he lifted you from the floor.

“Fuck,” he murmured into your skin, nose pressed to your pulse point. His voice was a rough rasp, thick with emotion. “I fuckin’ missed you.”

You nodded, agreeing, pulling back to press your nose against his, pressing a your lips to his in what was more a shared smile than a kiss - but it felt just as good, just as nice.

[holdmytesseract]

Royal Visitors

☆ The Baby Fever AU ☆

Loki x Y/N feat. baby Narfi & Ella

Summary: Odin and Frigga come to visit the newest member of the family - baby Narfi. But things don't always go by plan, right? Especially not, when Ella comes home with her uncle Scott in tow...

Warnings: fluff, fluff and even more fluff! slight thirst? 👀 baby things and a lot of humour! scott being a dork. 😂

Word Count: 4k

a/n: @fictive-sl0th asked me, if I would write this - and of course I couldn't say no. 🥰 So well... Here you go! I hope you, my wonderful friend and everyone else likes this! 🥰

I'd also like to dedicate this story to @smolvenger . I hope this little, funny fluff piece can conjure a smile on your face. 🫂

Baby Fever Crew: (Let's try 'em tags again! I hope it works! ☺️) @km-ffluv @lokisgoodgirl @eleniblue @vbecker10 @loz-3 @jennyggggrrr @lokisninerealms @peaches1958 @multifandom-worlds @fictive-sl0th @lovingchoices14 @simping-for-marvel @stupidthoughtsinwriting @lou12346789 @kimanne723 @coldnique @lady-rose-moon @acefeather2002 @aagn360 @mostclevermiss @iamlokisgloriouspurpose @chennqingg @anukulee @lokiforever

Peeps who I think might be interested in this as well: @mochie85 @muddyorbsblr @evelyn-kingsley ☺️

Baby Fever Masterlist °☆• Masterlist

"Babe, when are your parents going to be here again?" You asked your husband, while cradling the tiny boy you squeezed out of you a mere week ago in your arms; breastfeeding him. Loki turned to face you; stirring the cup of coffee in his hands. His hair was positively a mess. He was wearing nothing but black boxershorts and a matching black and very stained tank top. The dark shadows underneath his eyes were the result of the lack of sleep he suffered from the past days. Having a newborn again and a six-year-old wasn't easy for him, nor for you. Especially for him, though, because he made sure that you got as much rest as possible; still needing to recover from the not so easy-going birth.

"Umm..." Loki checked the time, "In about... two hours." and took a sip of his coffee. "Alright. I have to get ready then. Take a shower, put on fresh clothes... Probably even brush my teeth..." Loki gave you an incredulous look, before he made his way over to where you sat at the dining table; passing by the kitchen counter. "You can do that, my love, but first..." He reached for the dozed off baby in your arms, "You are going to take a much-needed nap. Unless I'll have to fear that you are going to pass out in the shower - which wouldn't be good." and took tiny Narfi - who had himself curled up in a fetal position, in his strong, muscular arms. "And I am going to look after this little man, yes?"

You blinked; tired brain trying to process his words. "But... But babe... You only just got up from a nap, because Narfi woke you... You need rest, too. After all, you watched him almost the whole night and morning. Plus, you helped Ella getting ready for primary school. I can't ask you to look after him again, while I-" The god had heard enough and successfully shut you up with his lips on yours; kissing you gently. "Darling... This goes without saying. Of course, I am doing this for you. I'm your husband. We are partners. A team... And this little prince here is my son as well. Not just yours. I am his father and I have the responsibility to look after him as well - just like you. But the decisive and important difference is, that you carried him for over six months within your womb; keeping him safe and sound. You birthed him - which was very difficult, nerve-wracking and exhausting. You deserve and need the rest. I can see when the mother of my children needs a break - and I'll not let it happen that you pass out because of exhaustion. So please... Take a nap."

You were stunned. Utterly touched by Loki's words.

Blue eyes looked deeply into yours, while he shifted Narfi, so that he could intertwine a hand with yours. "Please." He added; gently squeezing your hand.

You felt how your emotions got stuck in your throat; eyes becoming teary. "Oh Lokes, I... I don't know what to say, I..." You stood up; moving to wrap both your arms around his waist. "Thank you, baby. I love you so much. You are the best. I couldn't have wished for a better husband and father." The god smiled; kissing you once more. "I love you, too, my goddess. And now off with you. I want to see that pretty ass in our bed now. Get some rest."

While you laid down and slept in only after a few minutes. Sleeping like a log; Loki took care of the newest addition to his family. He carried Narfi around a little longer, to make sure that he stayed asleep, before he laid him down in the crib - which stood inside your shared bedroom. Then he went to the living room and decided to help you out a little more; folding some laundry. Mostly onesies, rompers, bibs and burp cloths. Unfortunately, it was a very... Let's say tiring task, and so the god slept in as well; cuddling the onesie he was about to fold. The cup of coffee he had consumed was not helping him to stay awake; failing - and perhaps it wasn't the best idea of him to cover himself up with a soft, warm and inviting blanket. Therefore, that nobody was awake now and watched the time, two hours flew by within the blink of an eye and it came how it had to come...

The Bifrost opened up in the middle of the living room with a rather loud 'wooosh' - but it didn't bother all sleeping members of the family at all. Everybody was way too tired to care. Even Narfi slept through it.

Odin and Frigga appeared; standing now where the rainbow light once was. They both noticed immediately that it was awfully quiet. No Ella who came running excitedly up to them... No you, who greeted them warmly, nor their son. Not even the coos and cries of a newborn could be heard. Nothing. Just entire silence.

The couple exchanged a look. "No welcoming committee?" Asked the Allfather almost sceptically. "You did tell our son that we would come at this time of the day?" Frigga nodded, "I did, dear." and finally started to look around. It didn't take long for her to find her son - deep asleep on the sofa; snugly wrapped up in a blanket. She smiled, "But perhaps they were victims of a higher power." and tapped her husband's arm gently; making him see. He huffed. "What are we going to do now?" "Let them rest and come back later." Odin shook his head. "Dear wife... As you should know, I am a king. I have a kingdom to rule and duties to follow. I don't have the time - unfortunately," stated the king and approached the sleeping Loki.

"Son. Wake up." No reaction. Odin cleared his throat and raised his voice. "Loki!" It helped. The god ripped his eyes open and literally jumped up. "Yes, Sir, I'm awake, Sir!" He almost shouted; blanket falling around his ankles and the onesie hanging messily over his shoulder - just like his hair. Again. Loki was definitely completely out of it; caused by Odin, who ripped him so 'harshly' and sudden out of his deep slumber.

While Frigga placed a hand over her mouth to stop herself from giggling like a maid, who had heard the newest gossip, Odin was rather shocked at his son's messy appearance. Sure, he had a newborn child, but where was his royal behaviour? "Son..." The Allfather started, shaking his head. "What in the nine realms are you wearing?" Loki blinked; was still trying to properly wake up and looked down himself; seeing the stains on his top - which undoubtedly came from Narfi, and that he was basically just in underwear. Oh.

Swallowing hard, he quickly scrambled to get away from the sofa - and the blanket, and snapped his fingers; letting his seidr correct his outfit. "A-Apologies, father, I-" Frigga lifted a hand and placed it on the now black shirt clad chest of Loki; interrupting him. "Don't be, my dear. We understand." She gave him a heartwarming smile, which calmed the god down. "Thank you, mother." Frigga nodded and cupped his cheek for a moment, before she let go.

"Where is your wife and daughter?" Odin questioned Loki then, looking around. "Oh, um, Ella is out with her uncle Scott. He shows her around his father-in-law's superhero suit laboratory and Y/N is sleeping. She's been very exhausted." Loki had no other words to describe his father what his daughter was doing. How should he explain this? The Pym particles? That they were able to shrink you or grow you to the size of Asgard's palace? Right… He couldn't.

Odin frowned; was visibly confused. "What by the holy roots of Yggdrasil…?" Yeah… Exactly, Loki thought. "It's science, father. That's a complicated Midgardian thing." Frigga again just giggled, while Odin huffed, "Such foolery. I'll never understand those Midgardians." and shook his head. "Now, may we move on to the reason why your mother and I made our way here? We wish to see our newest grandchild, don't we?" The Allmother rolled subtly her eyes at her husband's behaviour, but nodded; giving her son a smile.

You and Loki hadn't told his parents yet if you were having a boy or a girl. Both, you and him agreed to keep it a secret and surprise them. Actually, you wanted to do it together, but when Loki saw you sleeping so peacefully and soundly; wrapped up in your oversized cuddle blanket, he didn't have the heart to wake you up. So, Loki tiptoed over to the little crib and slid both his big hands underneath the small body of his son, in order to lift him up in his arms. Narfi stirred; scrunched his little face. "No, no, no, don't wake up, little prince," Loki whispered; rocking him gently. "It's all good. Daddy just wants you to meet your grandparents. They are beyond excited to meet you." The god continued to whisper to the infant, while he carried him towards the living room.

"Mother, father..." He announced his return with a smile. "It is an utmost pleasure for me to introduce you to your sweet, little grandson - Narfi." Frigga gasped as she laid eyes upon the baby; eyes starting to get clouded by tears. She was visibly happy.

While the Allmother gasped and tried to hold back her tears of happiness, Odin let out a loud, uh, shriek of happiness. It almost sounded like a battle cry; causing both Loki and Frigga to flinch. "A boy! A boy! Finally another man in the family! An heir to the throne! A new ki-" The Allfather cut off his own sentence, as he saw the bombastic side eye his wife was giving him. She was clearly not amused by his reaction. Odin cleared his throat; giving his son, who was looking quite a bit confused at him a nod, before he reached out a hand and clapped him forcefully on the shoulder. "I-I meant great, my son. Producing such strong and healthy children."

Loki - and Frigga were both still not quite convinced by his choice of words, but either way, Loki knew that his father was happy. That he was proud of him and his kids - and that made the god smile. "Would one of you like to hold him?" At this question, Odin got surprisingly excited. "I definitely wish to hold my grandson! May I?" Loki blinked; smiling, "Of course, father." and handed Narfi carefully over. The king looked down at the newborn; the softest of smiles twitching at the corners of his mouth. "He's a broth of a man, son. But why is he still in his Jotun form?" "Oh, uh, he just hasn't learned to shapeshift yet. Ella could do it immediately, but Narfi's got more of my Frost Giant genes and needs a bit more time to learn," the god tried to explain.  "Ah, I see."

"Shall we have a seat?" Loki continued; gesturing towards the sofa. Both royals took the offer and sat down. Odin handed Narfi then over to his wife. "He is truly a wonderful, sweet little boy, my dear. You can be proud." Loki smiled; eyes fixated on the still sleeping infant. "I am, mother, I am - but I am even more proud of Y/N. The pregnancy, all that happened while she was pregnant and the birth itself were anything but easy and she did so great; worked so hard to bring him into this world." Frigga - and even Odin nodded; agreeing. "Indeed she is, Loki. Without a doubt one of the strongest women I know."

You had been asleep for a good while now, but your motherly instincts had tickled you awake. A sleepy gaze on the alarm clock, standing on your bedside table told you, that you had slept for almost three hours now. Three hours and Narfi didn't wake me once? You thought; felt the said motherly instincts kicking in.

Rubbing the remaining sleep from your eyes, you yawned and got quickly up; walking over to the crib - only to see that it was empty. A wave of panic and fear rolled over you, until your hazy brain told you, that Loki was with your baby; causing immediate relief to wash over you.

Making your way to the bathroom then; you heard voices coming from down the hall - and suddenly you remembered. Odin and Frigga wanted to visit you! And you slept through it. Shit. Quickly closing the door behind yourself, you took a pee and tried to make yourself look a bit more... presentable. We spoke about the king and queen of Asgard... They were royalty. After checking yourself in the mirror, you decided to join 'the party.'

The first thing you saw when you stepped inside the living room, were three adults, who had their gazes fixated on little Narfi; laying in his grandmother's arms. He was awake; cooing and gurgling - definitely being the main attraction and superstar.

You smiled; stepping closer. "Seems like the little prince met his grandparents already." At the sound of your voice, every head turned to face you. Loki was, of course, the first to react. He got up and walked over to you; gently placing both his hands on your hips. "Darling. As I can see, sleep has released you from its powerful clasp?" You nodded; smiling softly at all the love and affection Loki gave you in this moment - despite his parents presence.

"And as I can see, have the king and queen already met our little prince," you replied; standing on tiptoes and gazing over your husband's shoulder. "Indeed, darling. Apologies. I meant to wait for you, but you slept so peacefully... I didn't want to wake you." "It's okay, babe." You reassured him and placed a chaste kiss on his lips, before you stepped past him - out of his embrace and approached your son, Odin and Frigga.

The Allmother handed Narfi quickly over again to her husband and stood up; opening her arms. "Y/N, my dear," she said, pulling you into a hug. Frigga was - without a doubt, one of the sweetest and kindest souls you knew. "How are you feeling? I hope you could recover a bit?" You smiled; hugging her back. "I could, yes, thank you. I still feel tired, but it's way better." "Oh, that is very reassuring to hear."

You then greeted Odin as well, who was very enthralled with your little baby boy - just like everyone. You sat down on the sofa then - in between Loki's legs; leaning against his chest, with his arms loosely wrapped around you. Narfi quite enjoyed all the attention he got. Just like being held and carried the whole time, so it was no wonder that he slept in soon again.

After a little while, 'the party' got even bigger... Scott returned Ella back home - and of course she had asked him to visit her little brother as well, to which Scott couldn't say no. And perhaps Ella forgot, that her grandparents were on a visit already...

She gently opened the main door, having learned that she must be quiet in case Narfi was sleeping and tiptoed inside the apartment. Loki had practically enchanted the door knob, so that Ella could make her way inside her home without knocking or taking a key with her. She was already a big girl, but watching over an important key was perhaps a too big task yet. So, whenever she wanted to go back inside, the doorknob turned into a doorhandle for her.

"Come on, uncle Scott!" Ella quietly, but excitedly called out; holding the door open. Scott grinned at her and sneaked inside; walking on his tiptoes. After Ella had closed the door again, they both sneaked down the hall - like agents, on their way to find her parents and brother. "I hear voices, Agent Ella. I think your brother might be awake." The little girl had to suppress her giggles. "I think that too, Mr. Ant-Man. It comes from the living room, so we should go there." "Alright. Lead the way, Agent."

Getting closer, the hushed voices got clearer - and suddenly Ella realised. "Ohh..." "What is it, Agent Ella? Have you been hit?! Is there an enemy close?!" Once again, she had to suppress her giggles. "Nooo, Mr. Ant-Man. But my grandparents are here. I could hear grandma Frigga talking." Scott's eyes widened. "Ohh... So you've got very royal visitors today?" "Uh.Huh. But that's okay. I'll take you to see Narfi anyways. Let's go, uncle Sc- I-I mean, Mr. Ant-Man."

Together, they reached the living room. Ella peeked around the door frame first; analysing the situation. She saw how Narfi was laying in Frigga's arms, while she fed him a bottle. Odin sat beside her - just like you and Loki. "Mr. Ant-Man, we're clear!" Ella turned and whispered to Scott, "All right, Agent." before she peeked around the corner again. "Hi mommy, hi daddy, hi grandma Frigga and grandpa Odin!" The little girl chimed happily, causing everyone to look at her with a smile. Scott, being the dorky and funny guy he was mimicked Ella. He peeked around the corner above her, smiling as well. "Hi Y/N, hi Loki, hi Ella's grandparen- I-I mean greetings, your majesties!"

Ella giggled like mad at her uncle Scott's funny behaviour. She adored him - without a doubt. You had to suppress a giggle as well, while Loki rolled his eyes. And Odin and Frigga? Well, they were quite a bit taken by surprise and confused. After all, they didn't have a single clue who Scott was...

"Hi princess, hi Scottie!" You answered, giving them an amused smile. "Laing, what are you doing here?" Asked your husband, visibly annoyed by the friendly Avenger. Scott wanted to answer, but Ella was the one who did. "He brought me home, daddy, from our expo- No, uh... Expola- Exploration!" "Exploration? That sounds quite exciting, if I may say so," chimed in Frigga, while she still fed the bottle to Narfi. "What did you explore, sweetie?" You asked. Scott didn't tell you what exactly he wanted to show Ella. Just that he was going to take her to Hank's laboratory - and you trusted your friend, of course. After all, he was a father, too.

Ella smiled, grabbed Scott by the hand and pulled him after her inside the living room. "He showed me his friends!" "His friends?" Questioned the Allmother. Loki, though, had already a guess. "Oh norns..." He whispered under his breath. "Uh.Huh!" The little girl let go of Scott's hand again, in order to greet everybody. Hugging you, Frigga and even her grandfather; pressing a smacking kiss on Narfi's tiny, chubby cheek and lastly running into her father's arms. It was the hug that lasted the longest - and everyone understood, because all knew that Ella was a daddy's girl. It hadn't changed and probably never would.

"He showed me his ants!" She announced proudly and happily then, causing Odin's eyes to widen. "Ants?! That mortal showed you ants?!" "Yes, grandpa Odin. Scott has sooo many of them and they are so cute and friendly!" The girl explained; totally ignoring Odin's confusion and aversion. "That is ridiculous," the Allfather whispered under his breath, while Ella talked away; earning another side eye from his wife.

"Well, that sounds amazing, sweetie!" You said, giving your daughter a good feeling - and Scott, too. "Scottie, would you like to sit down, have a cuppa coffee?" You then offered; smiling. Loki wasn't amused, what his eyes told you immediately, but you didn't care. Scott was your friend - and definitely Ella's friend. The man with short black-brown hair smiled, nodding. "I'd love to!" "Great! On my w-" You wanted to stand up, to get Scott that cup of coffee, when Loki leapfrogged you. "I'll get our favourite insect a cup of coffee, love." You blinked; were a bit surprised, but nodded. "Alright, babe, thanks."

While Loki was away, you decided to put Narfi down and lay him inside his crib, since he got quite a bit whiny and fractious. After all, there were suddenly a whole lot of people here, directing all their attention on him... Perhaps it became a little too much for the newborn now. So, you took Narfi in your arms and carried him back into yours and Loki's bedroom.

When Loki and you were away, Ella pulled Scott over to the sofa; making him sit down between her and Odin - and the Avenger was visibly excited about this. After all, he sat beside a king! A real king! An excited, hyped grin was painted on his face, as he slid closer towards the Allfather. "So, uh, Mr. Odin - your majesty, Sir..." Odin turned his head slowly; facing him, but he was definitely not quite as amused as Scott was. "How is it to be a king? It must be so freaking awesome and- Oh ma gosh... Is that gold?" He saw the buttons who kept his robe attached to his tunic. Odin wasn't wearing his armour today, since he was on this family trip, but nevertheless was he dressed royally. "Real gold??" Odin nodded; confirming Scott's assumption. "Wooow... And... And that robe..." The black-brown haired man continued; grabbing a fistful of the king's red robe. "What awesome kind of fabric is that? Some kind of cotton mix? It isn't polyester, is it??"

Odin wasn't very pleased about a mere Midgardian touching his robe. "No, it certainly isn't." He hissed and gave it a tug, to pull the fabric straight out of Scott's hands. "It is fine Asgardian silk." Scott's eyes widened and he smiled even brighter; absolutely not caring that the Allfather didn't like what he was doing. "Wow! That's so cool, I swear!"

While Odin became more and more annoyed with every passing minute; Frigga and Ella were having a hard time to suppress their giggles.

Later on, when your guests had left and Narfi was fed, you decided to take a bath, in order to relax a bit. Loki let you, of course; was more than happy that you took time for yourself to relax.

Now the god was laying on the sofa, wrapped up in a soft blanket with Narfi sleeping on his bare chest, as Ella made her way inside the living room. She was already dressed in her pyjamas; ready for bed. Loki saw her tiptoeing inside the room and smiled. "Hey there princess," he whispered; already shifting a bit. He knew what was coming and therefore lifted the blanket. Ella smiled her brightest smile, causing the proud dad's heart to skip a beat. She hopped on the sofa, crawled underneath the blanket and cuddled close to her father and brother. There needed no words to be exchanged. Just love. Loki wrapped his free arm around his daughter and dipped his head to press a lingering kiss on her head.

The three of them just laid there and enjoyed the cuddles. No words were spoken, until Ella decided to change it.

"Daddy?" "Yes, princess?" "Can I visit uncle Scott sometime again?" Loki smiled. He and Laing probably weren't best friends, but Ella adored him, so why denying her that? "Of course you can, Ella." "Really?" She quipped excitedly; blue eyes shining. "Really." "Yay!" Loki chuckled; the vibration of his chest causing Narfi to whine subtly - and Loki stopped immediately. "Apologies, little prince."

The conversation died down then, until Ella spoke up once more.

"Daddy?" The god hummed in response. "I invited uncle Scott to come to Asgard with us." Loki blinked; was quite a bit shocked. "You... You... What? Why?" "Because he wants to have a robe like grandpa Odin has." Loki grimaced; not amused by this idea. Oh norns...

[elia-nymmeros]

""A start?" said Ellaria Sand, incredulous. "Gods forbid. I would it were a finish. Tywin Lannister is dead. So are Robert Baratheon, Amory Lorch, and now Gregor Clegane, all those who had a hand in murdering Elia and her children. Even Joffrey, who was not yet born when Elia died. I saw the boy perish with mine own eyes, clawing at his throat as he tried to draw a breath. Who else is there to kill? Do Myrcella and Tommen need to die so the shades of Rhaenys and Aegon can be at rest? Where does it end?" "It ends in blood, as it began," said Lady Nym. "It ends when Casterly Rock is cracked open, so the sun can shine on the maggots and the worms within. It ends with the utter ruin of Tywin Lannister and all his works."" The Watcher, ADwD

Rereading ADwD, one of the most interesting aspects of the Dorne plot for me is that constantly, over and over again, the elder Sand Snakes mock Doran for his perceived weakness, for being slow to act, for planning and disguising and lying instead of outright fighting, claiming that he was a lesser man compared to Oberyn, and yet part of me wonders what they thought/might've thought of Elia while she lived, especially when Gregor's head was brought back to Dorne and the Sand Snakes demanded vengeance not only for Oberyn, but also for Elia and her children.

"Her sister Tyene gave answer. "What he always does," she purred. "Delay, obscure, prevaricate. Oh, no one does that half so well as our brave uncle."" The Watcher, ADwD

It's hard to know because we only have second-handed accounts, but we've been told that Elia was someone agreeable, kind, with a good heart, someone precisely like Doran and very unlike Oberyn. No account of Elia presents her as a bold, outspoken, bloodthirsty, or vengeful woman, which of course doesn't mean that she wasn't, but it means that she didn't choose to present herself as one in front of Dorne and King's Landing court; in fact, some people even remember her as "drab" and "frail". It's very poignant to see the Sand Snakes asking to spill blood and kill innocent people in the name of a woman dead some 17 years ago who, as a matter of fact, probably never wanted to see the entirety of Casterly Rock and Oldtown destroyed and slain, children and smallfolk included.

"Princess Elia was a good woman, Your Grace. She was kind and clever, with a gentle heart and a sweet wit." ADwD, Daenerys IV

""We could kill him, to be sure," said Tyene, "but then we would need to kill the rest of his party too, even those sweet young squires. That would be … oh, so messy."" ADwD, The Watcher

It's interesting for me that they learned this bloodthirsty attitude from Oberyn, who of course had almost two decades of virulent resentment because the brutal rape and murder of his sister and her children went unpunished, but who was also the man who probably knew Elia the best and what ideas she held about retribution, not some idealized version of a woman who they probably don't remember. Part of me wonders if the Sand Snakes wouldn't have found Elia cowardly and weak and useless too, simply because she displayed the same ideas about politics and power than Doran, because all accounts of Elia (all three of them) shows us a genuinely gentle and easy-going person who did not murder and poison her way to power as it is common in the royal court.

"I am not blind, nor deaf. I know that you all believe me weak, frightened, feeble. Your father knew me better (...)" The Watcher, ADwD

"It must have been the madness that led Aerys to refuse Lord Tywin's daughter and take his son instead, whilst marrying his own son to a feeble Dornish princess with black eyes and a flat chest." AFfC, Cersei V

I'm not saying that Elia wouldn't have wanted The Mountain dead or that the Sand Snakes were in the wrong for wanting their family members avenged, because Tywin Lannister and his lackeys were evil men who committed several crimes against the Martells and faced no direct repercussions, but the extreme level of hatred that the Sand Snakes show towards everyone who happens to be named Lannister, their willingness to go to a war they cannot hope to win with allies they aren't sure they can trust without any kind of well-thought plan, and the constant derision they show towards Doran and his attitudes... part of me feels like Elia has already been forgotten by them, replaced by an empty figurehead who they can rally around and use to justify their cruelty, while at the same time disdaining the same attitudes that Elia herself was known for...

"Written? If you were half the man my father was—" AFfC, The Captain of Guards.

""Obara would make Oldtown our father's funeral pyre, but I am not so greedy. Four lives will suffice for me. Lord Tywin's golden twins, as payment for Elia's children. The old lion, for Elia herself. And last of all the little king, for my father." "The boy has never wronged us."" AFfC, The Captain of Guards.

Something something about letting vengeance and senseless violence consume you, about a woman dead so many years ago and yet still loved by her people and her family, about the attitudes we teach our children and how they might end up twisted without a specific contextualization in time and space...

[tgmsunmontue]

Saga of Solitude 4/?

Nepo!Baby Bradley and his life at USNA and afterwards. DADT fully in force. IceMav AU. (Begun prior to 'It's not who you know' - the non-angsty version).

PROLOGUE (He remembers)

HANGSTER FIRST MEETING (Lonely Nights - set 2009)

Updating ~weekly (longer chapters).

PREVIOUS CHAPTERS

ONE (2000) TWO (2001) THREE (2002)

CHAPTER FOUR – 2003

                His summer at home is very different. He insists on looking after the girls every day that he’s home, making the most of his time with them. He works on their swimming with daily trips to the swimming pool, then the library or playground. Gets them out of the house so Ice can rest and Sarah and Melissa don’t have to worry about a day-camp for at least three weeks of the summer. He enjoys family dinners, watching movies with Ice, playing cards and just being at rest. Pete is off somewhere and Ice is tightlipped about it, and he wonders if they fought about it. Wonders if Maverick even knows about the operation. Mav hasn’t asked about Ice in any of their Saturday phone calls, which is unusual when he’s deployed and Bradley is home. He doesn’t know what to say or do though to make it better.

                Tamsin and Petra are seven and five now, still think he’s the best thing ever and it’s nice to have people in his life who are so easy to please. He takes photos and sends them to Natasha, tells her he’ll see her soon on the carrier for their summer placement. He can’t wait, but also he doesn’t want to leave where he is right now. How actual parents do this he has no idea.

                He doesn’t expect anything for his twentieth birthday, not with Ice’s health and Maverick being deployed but Ice tells him to get dressed and that he’s going out. Tamsin and Petra were already picked up by Melissa, her coming in and checking on Ice before decrying that he still needed to rest.

                “Uncle Slider?”

                “Hey kid. Come on. I’m taking you out.”

                “Uh. Okay?”

                “It’s fine. Ice and Maverick both know. This is a sanctioned mission.”

                Bradley laughs then, follows him out to his car. They end up in a military bar, not definitively army or navy or air force but something of a mix, a neutral territory.

                “Everyone, this here is Bradley Bradshaw. Goose’s boy.”

                Oh. Holy shit.

                These are all people who knew his dad. That definitely know Iceman and Maverick. Maybe not about them being a couple, and he’s not going to say anything. Names and callsigns, he doesn’t know what names belongs to who, but Wolfman, Merlin, Jester, Sundown, Chipper, Warlock. Nearly all of the 1986 Top Gun class his dad was part of and he feels Slider’s hand pat his shoulder as he goes up to get a round of drinks. The stories start then. and he understands the need for the alcohol now. And the neutral territory. They’ll all be able to walk out and leave this behind them.

                He doesn’t say much, just listens intently and wishes he could take notes. His dad, his parents, have never felt so alive than they do right now, everyone talking about them. The jokes and pranks his dad played, his fierce loyalty, his patience. His mom’s ability to put them in their place with a look, but her sense of humor and love of life. Also her view that RIOs were better than pilots. He hasn’t ever heard Maverick or Ice say that, but then again this isn’t something they ever talk about. Apparently many of these men used to visit when he was little, and he hates having to admit that he doesn’t remember many of them, lost to childhood.

                “Do you play?” the one Bradley thinks is Merlin asks, head jerking toward the piano.

                “What?”

                “Do you play the piano? Your old man was pretty talented. Pretty sure half the women Maverick picked up were only because he had Goose as his wingman.”

                Slider coughs a sip of his beer and Bradley catches his eye. Slider knows and Maverick and Ice, he knows he does. The idea of Maverick picking up anyone that isn’t Ice sits in his gut oddly, even if they seem to ignore each other a lot of the time.

                “Yeah… I can play. I’m part of the D’n’B, as well as the choir at USNA.”

                “Oh great, come on then. Great Balls of Fire for us old timers aye?”

                “Yeah. Okay.”

…             …             …

                Later, when he lets them back into the house, Slider apparently staying in the guest room, he sets the coffee machine going when Slider accepts the offer of coffee.

                “You seem pretty at home here.”

                “It is home. Even more than Mav’s place really. Mav comes here more often than Ice goes there. There’s room for the girls and for me.”

                “Ah yes. The girls,” Slider says, letting out a huff of breath which Bradley isn’t sure how to take. Disbelief, annoyance? He’s not sure. “The lengths Ice has gone to keep himself safe. Well. Him and Maverick I suppose.”

                “Oh. Yeah. Widower and divorcee. Just friends…” Bradley mutters, because he knows now, now that he’s a bit older, that Maverick and his mom marrying tidied several things up legally, but also offered something for Pete to fall back on. Grieving widow not prepared to marry again, no woman will ever measure up to his late wife, Etc. etc. Slider hums, takes a sip of his coffee and studies Bradley over the rim of the mug.

                “I know you’re at USNA and you’re keeping it quiet just how… entrenched your upbringing has been in the Navy, but I just thought I’d let you know you aren’t alone, no matter how it might feel. Tonight, thought I’d try and show you that level of brotherhood. Any one of those men would help you out.”

                “Uh, thanks Uncle Slider.”

                “Don’t mention it. Now. Have Ice and Mav pulled their heads out of their respective asses yet, or are they still not talking?”

                “Oh. I thought that might be the case…” Bradley says, letting out a long sigh at having his suspicions confirmed,

                “Neither of them have told you?”

                “No.”

                “Huh. Well. They’re both stubborn jackasses and can’t tell each other that they love each other with normal words.”

                “What happened?”

                “Maverick got new deployment orders, said he was going to put in a special request. Ice said he’d breakup with him if he did that. Which went as well as you can imagine. I didn’t hear the yelling, but Sarah tells me it was impressive.”

                Bradley groans.

                “Ice also said he wants to break up with him because he shouldn’t be burdening Mav with a dying man, which I thought was a bit melodramatic myself. Clearly he’s spending too much time with Maverick. Anyway, they said they’d talk when Mav got back.”

                “God they’re idiots. And Ice isn’t dying. Melissa told me he’s going to be fine.”

                “That they are. I wish I could say they’ve mellowed with age, but they haven’t. Gotten more stubborn. Your father and I used to despair of them getting their shit together.”

                “Do you really think they have their shit together? Even now?”

                Slider makes a you’ve got me there expression and shrugs his shoulders.

                “At least they’re… more together than they were. Even if they have to deny they’re anything more than friends. Having to hear them make comments about being like brothers when someone questions how close they are… it’s all a bit messed up.”

                “Yeah. it is.”

                “How are you handling it all?”

                “Handling what?”

                Slider just gives him a look like he thinks Bradley is an idiot.

                “Your step-father is deployed, your other father figure is sick. You’re about to start your third year at boat school all while… keeping a big part of your identity under wraps. Ice had me. Mav had your dad. Tell me you have someone.”

                “Oh.”

                “Oh is right kid. Hell. Neither of them did it alone. They had people who had their backs.”

                “I don’t have anyone. But. I could. She’s…”

                “She?”

                “Yeah, wild concept I know, but they let women serve in the Navy now.”

                Slider rolls his eyes and lets out an exasperated sigh.

                “Lord you’re an ass. You’re both the best and worst of them all.”

                “What do you mean?” Bradley asks.

                “Your dad, your mom, Mav and Ice. You remind me of them all at different times. Just then you were all Ice, but earlier, all I could see was your Dad. And Carole. Then I see you with Tamsin and Petra and all I see is Maverick with you when you were little.”

                “Oh.”

                “Makes me feel old.”

                “Surely getting old beats the alternative,” Bradley says, and he means it as a joke, before realizing that the alternative is death, and given his parents, and Ice’s cancer and Maverick currently being deployed it’s far too close to home.

                “Shit kid, you’ve gone pale. Take a pew. It does beat the alternative. You’re right. It’s a privilege getting to watch you grow up. And my own kids. Maverick and Ice are proud of you. I hope they tell you that.”

                “Uh, no. Not really. I want to make them proud though.”

                “Well, they tell me every time I talk to them. They’re not the best with words.”

                “Yeah. I do know that.”

                “Try and be better than them. Trust someone.”

                “I’ll try.”

…             …             …

                His palms are clammy when he places the call, waiting for Natasha to pick up. She meant to be arriving Sunday afternoon, but if she can change her bus ticket then… he can try this whole trust thing.

                “Hey Natasha.”

                “Bradley. What’s with the phone call?”

                “I was wondering if you wanted to come and stay for a couple of nights before we start our stint on the carrier.”

                “Seriously? You offering up accommodation?”

                “Yeah. You want to meet my kid sisters?”

                “They are the superior Bradshaws.”

                “Ha. Yeah. Um.”

                “Are you asking me out? Is this a weird date thing?”

                “No! No. Just. Definitely not. Not a romantic thing. Not at all. I am definitely not interested in you like that at all. Ever. Never will be.”

                “Wow. Okay. Thanks for that ego boost.”

                “Shit. No. Look. You’re my best friend. Can we just… talk when you arrive?”

                “There has to be a talk? For friends? Why… oh. Okay. Right. Holy shit. Of course. I’ll see you Friday. Can you pick me up from the bus station?”

                “Yeah. Course.”

…             …             …

                Later afternoon on the Friday he sees her step off the bus and grins, raises a hand in greeting and then she’s shoving her bag into his chest while she hitches her garment bag over her shoulder.

                “Come on. Take me home sailor…”

                “Ugh. Don’t say it like that.”

                Natasha snickers at his expression and they talk about her visit to her cousin, which he understands is one of her few family members that talks to her. He’s not sure what she’s done exactly that has made them angry at her, but he’s hoping that they might be able to exchange stories, he just has to take that leap of faith and open up first.

                He stops in driveway of Ice’s house, rests his hands on the steering wheel and wonders if he should say something. Prepare her. It’s not even been a month since they left boat school for their short three weeks of leave. Nothing has changed and yet he’s about to do something risky.

                “I’ve sort of got a complicated family.”

                “You and everyone else. You’re not special.”

                “No. I know I’m not. I don’t want to be. Just… this is my uncle’s house. He’s the father of my sisters.”

                “So, they’re actually your cousins?”

                “Well. Tom isn’t related to me by blood at all. But he was my second legal guardian. I lived with him and his wife when my step-father was deployed.”

                Her eye snap to him then and he licks his lips.

                “Should we go inside? I can introduce you to my uncle. Uh. He’s got cancer, recovering from an operation from a few weeks ago.”

                He doesn’t give her much choice, slides out of the car and grabs her bag, not going around to open her door because he wouldn’t for any of his friends and she is just that. Maybe the closest thing he’ll ever have to a grown adult sister if this whole weekend pans out like he’s hoping it will. She follows him and when he pushes the door open and kicks off his shoes Ice is in the kitchen making some tea, a herbal one that makes the kitchen smell earthy and sweet. Apparently one of the few things that helps the soreness in his throat.

                “Hey Ice. This is my friend Natasha Trace. Natasha, this is my uncle Tom, also known as Rear Admiral Kazansky.”

                “Nice to meet you sir,” Natasha says, smiling tightly and she shoots Bradley a small glare.

                “And you Natasha. No titles inside the house necessary. Or out of uniform. Welcome. I’m sure Bradley will make you feel welcome and show you around. I’m just going to go and do some reading.”

                “You’re meant to be resting,” Bradley states.

                “Turning pages in a book isn’t exactly taxing Bradley,” Ice says, rolling his eyes. “Also why you’re on hosting duties. I’ll be in my study.”

                He watches Ice walk away, glances to where Natasha is also watching him and then she’s turning to him, eyes flashing and stepping in close.

                “Rear Admiral! Your uncle is a Rear Admiral!”

                “I did say it was sort of complicated. Uh, and that isn’t all of it. You want a drink?”

                “Do you have beer?”

                “Sure,” Bradley states, because while he doesn’t drink very often, he knows Ice isn’t going to be angry if he offers a guest a bottle. First he shows her the guest bedroom so they can leave her gear, before leading her out to the back garden, both holding bottles of beer.

                “So… if having a Rear Admiral as an uncle isn’t all of it, what is all of it?”

                “Well. My stepfather is currently deployed. His full name is Captain Peter Mitchell, callsign Maverick.”

                “The guy with the air-to-air kills. Oh my god. Ice is Iceman.”

                “Yeah. There’s more. My dad was a RIO. He flew with Maverick. Um,” he swallows against the tightness in his throat. “He died in a training exercise. Nick Bradshaw, callsign Goose. I was three.”

                “Holy shit. I just thought you were going to tell me you were gay.”

                “Well. That too. But I figured I’d get the more shocking stuff out of the way first.”

                She lets out a huff of amusement and Bradley knocks his shoulder against hers, his stomach churning with nerves.

                “It’s fine. I’m not telling anyone. So… your sisters are Kazansky’s kids?”

                “Yeah. His ex-wife Sarah has them tonight, but she’s dropping them off tomorrow.”

                “Okay, so it is a little complicated. I’ll give you that.”

                They sit in silence for a bit but then he hears the roar of a bike and he stiffens, immediately alert. Then the front door is opening and he’s heading towards it, heart racing.

                “Ice! I’m home. Bradley?”

                Ice has beaten him, his study is closest to the front door and Bradley wonders if he knew Mav might be home early. He wasn’t meant to get back for months. Wasn’t meant to see Bradley, not that he’s paying any attention to him right now, his hands are on Ice’s face, pulling him down into a kiss, words being exchanged between them too quiet for him to hear. He glances back to see that Natasha has followed him, her eyes wide as she looks at Ice and Mav kissing in the hall. Bradley can’t help but look back. He’s never seen them like this, and he guesses it’s after a fight and a deployment, however short, and there’s definitely passion and depth of emotion there. Pretty sure there isn’t going to be any further talk of breaking up.

                He turns to Natasha.

                “We should go out for dinner. Come on. My shout.”

                He can get Ice or Mav to pay him back later, pretty sure they’ll appreciate the alone time right now. He hugs Mav hello and goodbye, does the briefest of introductions and lets them know they’ll be back later.

…             …             …

                “God I hate you for making you go,” Pete says, his lips placing soft kisses along his jaw. “I love you more than I hate you though.”

                Tom lets his hands run down Pete’s chest, trembling slightly because as much as he’d pushed him to go, he’s so glad to have him back. He’s also glad that Bradley has just upped and left them alone, because he doesn’t think he has it in him to hold back and remain stoic in the face of Maverick safely returned to him once again.

                “I’m sorry. I’m sorry for making you go. I just…”

                “Don’t ever make me leave you again. Not when you need me.”

                “I’m fine.”

                “Bullshit. But I’ll let you believe it if you need to.”

                “Pete…” his voice sounds rough and broken to his own ears and he wraps his arm around him. “I’m sorry.”

                “No more talking of setting me free, or being a burden okay? You are mine you hear me?”

                Tom nods, throat tight.

                He’s not going to ask how or why he’s back two months earlier than planned.

                Doesn’t care.

…             …             …

                He knows he made the right call when he and Natasha return a few hours later, having decided to also see a movie. He walks in and he does a double take, Ice and Mav were clearly lying with each other on the sofa, although they’re in the process of separating when they see them. He wants to tell them they don’t have to, that it doesn’t bother him, then he realizes that it maybe bothers them, having other people see them like that. They excuse themselves to bed and he guesses it’s too late for them to try and slip back into the closet with regards to Natasha knowing. He knows that wasn’t in the plan. Mav isn’t meant to be here, but he’s pretty sure Ice isn’t going to be sending him back to his own house anytime soon. He should let Slider know they pulled their heads out of their asses.

                The next morning they’re sitting around the table, quietly drinking coffee and eating, discussing plans for the day when he hears the knock at the front door. Then it’s opening, he grins across at Ice and Mav, glances at Natasha with a smile on his face.

                “Tamsin and Petra.”

                That’s all the warning they get, there’s the sound of running feet, then excited gasps and…

                “Papa! Papa! You’re home!”

                Oh shit, he’d forgotten about Petra and Tamsin both calling Mav Papa. And of course they’re going to be excited to see him. Tamsin hops onto Ice’s lap and gives him a kiss on his cheek and he’s automatically pushing the hot drinks to the center of the table where they’re less likely to get knocked. Then Sarah and Melissa are walking in, looking tired and Melissa is still in scrubs. Bradley does the introductions, watches Natasha’s face as he deliberately drops and her wife Melissa. He’s pretty sure he’s just earnt the complicated family descriptor, because she’s looking at Maverick and Petra, then Ice and Tamsin, immediately seeing the resemblance he didn’t see until last year.

                He knows everything is going to be fine though, Natasha compliments Tamsin’s t-shirt and Petra’s hair clips, and immediately the novelty of someone new to talk to is there, increasing the level of chatter. Natasha looks thrilled, immediately moving to sit on the ground so they can play with her hair. He looks up to find Ice and Mav both watching him and he mouths what at them, trying to figure out what they’re thinking.

                They sure as hell know Natasha isn’t there as a potential girlfriend, although given that Tamsin has just asked that very question and Natasha has explained that no, she is definitely not Bradley’s girlfriend, just a friend of his from school. That’s when they make the connection of her being the one who drew the pictures and she’s dragged away to do coloring. He turns on them.

                “What?”

                “Just thinking that you’ve got the same luck we had in picking good friends is all,” Ice states, and Bradley glances to where Natasha has been taken by his kid sisters.

                “Yeah. I guess I do.”

CHAPTER FIVE - 2004

[itslulabee]

Participation (Ch.1)

~

Be My Lover

Kili x OC (smut!! some plot too)

(part two, part three, part four, part five, part six)

Description; This fanfic is posted to my AO3 as well, it's basically just pure filth with my OC Kaia and five members of Thorin's Company, starting with the beloved Kili <3

MINORS DNI !!! sexy times ensuing...

AN; I was listening to Freaky Deaky by Tyga and Doja Cat whilst reading this, just letting you know the vibes.

Translations for any Khuzdul will be at the end! <3

~ <3 ~

Joining a company of thirteen dwarves, a hobbit and a wizard was never on Kaia’s to-do list.

She enjoyed the sanctity of her little cottage in the middle of nowhere, keeping to herself and minding her business. After all, she was a human woman with no family, and no ties to the rest of Middle Earth. No-one should bother her… right?

Wrong. One night, a few weeks ago, a storm broke out. Ignoring it to the best of her ability, Kaia curled up in her armchair with a book, almost missing the knock at her door.

Curious and slightly annoyed, Kaia looked out through the small window built into the wooden door, and was surprised to see a rather tall man standing on her doorstep. He wore a grey cloak and a pointy hat, both of which were completely soaked from the tumultuous rain. As was his long grey hair and his long grey beard.

Nevertheless, when he caught her eye, he gave her a warm smile.

“Good evening, my lady!” He bellowed, trying to sound louder than the thunder which echoed around the valley. “I wondered if my travelling companions and I could seek refuge in your barn?”

And that was how it started. Kaia begrudgingly agreed, hardly willing to let some travellers freeze to death when she had the means to help. He thanked her profusely, and went on his way, closely followed by fourteen smaller, but equally soaked, individuals.

The next morning, she went to the barn to check on her unexpected guests.

The man introduced himself as Gandalf the Grey, a wizard. She had heard of him, and he her. Her father was a traveller in his day, and he seemed to have crossed paths with the wizard on a few occasions.

Gandalf was glad to have found her, as the leader of their company had led them astray during the storm, and they were now completely lost.

With a sigh, Kaia agreed to show them the way back to the main road, hoping that once she saw them off, she could go back to her life and forget about this whole affair.

She was wrong.

The journey to the main road was a quick one, but felt longer as Kaia spent more time talking with Gandalf, his hobbit friend Bilbo, and the variety of dwarves which comprised the Company of Thorin Oakenshield.

And just like that, she found herself travelling with them far past the main road.

-

It surprised her how much she enjoyed being around the odd bunch. They made her laugh with their jokes and gripped her attention with many stories of their homeland, and their mission to reclaim it.

What surprised her most, however, was how attractive some of these dwarves were...

The renowned and uncrowned King Under the Mountain, Thorin Oakenshield, was certainly easy on the eyes. Tall for a dwarf, coming up to her shoulders, he was built well and walked with a commanding aura fit for a king. He had a handsome face, a deep rumbling voice and a self-assured glint in her eye which made her swoon.

But it was not just him who caught Kaia’s eye. His two nephews shared their uncles rugged good looks, but had their own styles and mannerisms that made them completely different. They were cheeky and energetic, and did not waste a single opportunity to flirt with her, causing her to almost be in a constant state of blushing.

Thinking about the line of Durin was enough to make her get hot and bothered, shifting slightly on her saddle as she felt a familiar ache she had grown used to ignoring. However now, in the presence of all of these dwarves, she found herself getting more and more restless, yearning for five minutes alone with one of them, or a few of the other handsome dwarves besides the royal three…

“Are you alright, Miss Kaia?” A small voice breaks her from her thought. She turns her head to see Bilbo Baggins looking up at her from his own pony, giving her a small smile.

“Oh. Yes, I’m fine, Bilbo, Thank you.” Kaia nods, offering him what she hopes was a convincing smile. In truth, she was letting her mind run wild with fantasies of at least five of their dwarvish companions, her whole body flushing at the impure thoughts floating around her head.

“Your face looks a little red, and you keep twitching. Do you feel under the weather?” Bilbo asks, growing concerned.

“I believe I am just tired from all of this riding, dear hobbit…” Kaia chuckles.

“Aye, lass, we’ve been going at it all day.” Bofur's voice pipes up, sidling up to Kaia’s other side, “No wonder you’re sore.”

Bofur gives her a lopsided smile, but his seemingly innocent words struck another cord in Kaia. Looking at Bofur and his goofy, handsome face, she started thinking about going at it with him all day… she cleared her throat, looking away from Bofur to focus on the horizon.

“No, you definitely don’t look alright, I’ll go speak to Oin!” Bilbo says, awkwardly manoeuvring his pony away from her before she could protest. Sighing, she gripped the reins of her horse once again, avoiding Bofur's concerned gaze.

“We will stop for camp in the oncoming clearing!” Thorin’s voice booms from the front of the troupe. Kaia sighs gratefully at this, excited to be able to rest.

-

Camp was set up very quickly, the proficiency of these dwarves was really spectacular. Especially when they were hungry. In record breaking time, the princes caught rabbits for Bombur to cook. The group milled about in their small, camp-fire lit area, engaging in pleasant conversations amongst themselves.

“When do you think Gandalf with be back?” Bilbo asked Kaia. He was sat next to her, as he often did, smoking his pipe. They had become fast friends, often finding common ground as the minority of non-dwarvish members of the company

“I don’t know. He said a few days, how long has it been?”

“A few days.”

“Ah.” Kaia clicks her tongue, “Then I suppose he should be back soon!”

Bilbo chuckles at this, and Kaia smiles over at him, glad she can make him laugh in moments when he is uneasy. Their friendship was important to both of them, grounding them when they were both caught up in their thoughts. Bilbo worrying about his position in the group, fighting a dragon and perhaps never returning home. And Kaia, thinking lewd thoughts about half of their travelling party. She definitely had it worse.

Kaia reclined against a boulder, fiddling with her mothers necklace as she closed her eyes for a moment. She heard a pair of footsteps approaching the campfire, sitting across from her.

“So, Kaia.” Came Kili’s voice, “You’ve been travelling with us for a while now. Not in a rush to go home?”

Kaia opens her eyes to look at him. He and his brother are sat on a log across from her, Kili smoking his pipe and smiling at her, with Fili busying himself with cleaning his daggers.

“It seems like it.” Kaia says, shrugging.

“We never asked, who’s waiting for you back in that cottage of yours?” Fili asks, his tone nonchalant as he sharpened one of his many knives.

Kaia squinted at the pair, curious about whether or not they were starting up another one of their strange pranks. She had been brought into too many of them before by being naive.

“Why?” She asks.

Fili and Kili shrug, in unison. More members of the group have sat around the fire now, waiting for dinner to be served.

“Why, what?” Nori asks, stretching his arms in front of him.

“We were asking her if she’s got anyone waiting for her at home.” Kili says, shrugging once again.

“Oh, dear, I hope you haven’t left your parents behind to worry about you!” Dori chirps, looking her over in concern. She gave him a warm smile, opening her mouth to speak when she’s interrupted by the blonde haired prince.

“We weren’t asking about her parents…” Fili says. Kaia looks at him, and he winks at her.

“You’re asking me if I left a husband to wait for me?” Kaia asks, a small smirk gracing her lips. Fili’s eyes drop to her mouth, and his tongue pops out to dampen his own. It makes Kaia’s thighs clench slightly at the image of him using his mouth for other means crosses her mind…

“No. I have no husband waiting for me.” Kaia says, trying to play coy as she looks off into the campfire.

“No suitors, either?” Kili asks, resting his head in his palm.

“No suitors, either.”

“How come?” Bofur asks, sitting down next to her. He chews on his pipe as he looks at her intensely, and she shrugs at him.

“I don’t know. No men have come knocking. I don’t think I’m really “courtship material.” Kaia chuckles, playing with the hem of her shirt.

“What do you mean by that, Kaia?” Gloin asks, warming his hands on the fire.

Kaia thinks for a second, looking around at the intrigued faces of her friends.

“I think I intimidate them. I’m not one for being wooed, any men who come close to me I pay no mind to.” Kaia then stops as a sad thought enters her mind. “And perhaps, I’m not attractive enough.”

Though she expected the dwarves to pay no mind to this self-degrading sentiment, the group was in uproar.

“Not attractive enough?!” Kili guffaws, looking at her with wide eyes.

“I’ve never heard the likes of it.” Bofur agrees, shaking his head. The flaps of his hat shake with him, and he gives her an incredulous look.

“Are the men where you're from blind?” Dwalin grumbles, sharpening his axe whilst he looks her up and down.

More of the group hum in agreement to this, and Kaia feels her face go red at the surprising compliments.

“W-well… my father always said I didn’t have womanly features. I always wanted to be out in the fields doing the hard labour with him, and I probably eat more than I should…” Kaia’s voice comes out quiet, thinking back on her parents negative thoughts about her.

It was true, Kaia was built more like a farmer than a wife. Years of working on a farm has given her some muscle, and the years of experimenting in the kitchen and making herself hearty meals had given her a little stomach and a bigger behind. She didn’t hate herself, by any measure, but she could understand that she was not the "picture of femininity"…

“You don’t eat nearly enough!” Dori says, shaking his head. Kaia chuckles at this, and the adamant agreement amongst the group.

“Men really are strange creatures…” Dwalin grunts, “If you were a dwarrowdam in the blue mountains, you’ve have dwarrows fighting over you every damn day. Hell, you’d probably be married with four lovers and an army of bairns by now!”

Kaia laughs heartily at this, as the others agree with him with cheers and nods.

“Four lovers?!” She exclaims, as Bilbo looks at her shocked.

But the dwarves all nod, giving her smiles which indicate this to be a huge compliment.

“Of course not.” Fili says, waving his hand in the air. “She’d have at least seven! And they would be the richest dwarf lords in the mountains.

“Aye!” Kili says, clapping his brother on the shoulder.

Kaia looks at them with wide eyes, and looks over at Bilbo who mirrors her confusion.

“And why would I have so many lovers if I were married?” She asks, confused and wondering if she should be insulted. Were they calling her a slut?

The dwarves raise their eyebrows at her.

“As is tradition.” Balin says to her gently, sitting beside his brother. “Dwarrowdams are a very small percent of our population. Because of this, many will often have many paramours and lovers, as well as a husband.”

The dwarves nod at this.

“Aye, the more lovers she has, the more beautiful she must be, and respected she is amongst her kin.” Gloin says, nodding. “My lass has three lovers keeping watch over her back home.”

“And that doesn’t bother you?” Bilbo says, incredulous.

Gloin guffaws at this, insulted.

“They are all honourable dwarves. I’d trust them with her life and mine, and our lads too.” Gloin says, holding his chin up.

“You must understand, laddie, that it’s not as if there is not commitment there.” Balin says gently, “Taking a lover is a significant arrangement. There are celebrations and all, it's rather romantic.”

“Aye, Bombur’s wife joined with her lover before we left, it was a beautiful ceremony.” Bofur sighs, wistfully.

Kaia looks around at all of them.

“Have any of you have got dwarrowdam lovers waiting for you back home?” She asks, playing with her hair.

“Oh, aye. My dear dam Myssa. She’s truly special.” Dori says, smiling proudly along with Ori and Nori.

“She has a husband?” Kaia asks, carefully. Dori nods enthusiastically.

“His name is Heron. He’s a lovely dwarrow, always welcoming of me and my brothers. We’ve been a family for going on fifty years now.”

Kaia nods at this, finding herself moved by the love in his voice.

“Though, it’s not always about commitments. Sometimes a dam will have a dwarf just for one night of passion.” Bofur says, wiggling his eyebrows at her.

Bilbo chokes on his pipe, spitting tufts of clouds. Some of the group nod at this, but others tell Bofur to stop being so vulgar.

“Damn straight.” Nori sighs, a cheeky grin on his face, “Nothing like a beautiful lass taking you into her arms for just a long moment…”

“Nori! Don’t make it sound so lewd!” Dori tuts. Beside him, Ori flushes deep red, avoiding Kaia’s eyes.

“He’s right, though. A good tumble in the hay is exactly what a dwarf needs to keep his mind sharp.” Grumbles Dwalin, who smirks down at his axe. Kaia stares at him, and his large hands, wondering if they are talented at more than just axe-wielding.

Noticing her gaze, Dwalin locks eyes with her. His eyes travel down her body, slowly, taking in every inch of her. Kaia pants slightly at the fire in his eyes, and feels like she is naked in front of him. She wishes she was naked in front of him…

“What’s all this about?” Comes Thorin’s voice, who walks into the centre of the camp. He looks around at the dwarves, a variety of expressions looking up at him.

His eyes land on Kaia, who is flushed red and breathing deeply. His eyes linger on her chest for a moment, before he looks into her eyes.

Can one of these dwarves please just take it easy on me for five minutes…

“We were just educating our dear lass and hobbit about dwarvish customs.” Balin says nonchalantly, trying to clear some of the tension in the camp.

“You know the ones, uncle…” Fili drawls, leaning back slightly. He locks eyes with Kaia as he says, “Sharing is caring.”

Kaia looks over at him, and he spreads his legs slightly while tilting his head. The movement has Kaia blushing, and she looks away, catching Kili’s eyes. Kili is watching her intensely, a slight pink tint to his cheeks but a smile graces his lips. The look in his eyes, as well as the look in Filis, has Kaia’s body practically thrumming with desire.

“Now, now, boys. The lass is human, she’s unused to our dwarfish customs. Don’t make her feel uncomfortable.” Balin says, shaking his head at the princes. He gives her a warm smile, which she feebly returns.

“Aye, Bilbo’s practically seizing.” Nori says, chuckling. He’s right, Bilbo is as red as a sunburnt tomato, mouth agape and eyes wide at the revelation of the dwarves voyeuristic behaviours.

“That’s enough. It’s almost time to eat, stop this foolishness and return to your duties.” Thorin growls, walking away from the group.

The air is thick with tension. Across from her, Fili is staring at her like he wants to devour her, and Kili is watching her like he wants her to devour him.

Balin follows after Thorin, leaving Dwalin in his place to glide his hands over his axe, watching her legs as they tremble slightly. He grins, spreading his legs slightly at the sight.

Dori is chastising Nori, who is watching the dwarves around him with a grin.

Bofur watches Kaia from around his pipe next to her, one of his legs shaking nervously, and Kaia can spot a slight tent in his trousers..

“Foods ready!” Bombur yells across the camp, and Kaia has never stood up so fast.

-

After dinner, Kaia kept to her bed roll. She sat cross legged on it, crushing up some lavender to add to her collection of medicinal herbs. Her brain is practically vibrating with memories of the events of this evening.

Fili was such a tease, looking at her with hungry eyes and displaying himself like that… damn that dwarf. It didn’t help that Kili had spent all of dinner making heart eyes at her, making her swoon and tug at the collar of her shirt.

Bofur kept making his jokes throughout, but his eyes lingered on hers longer than they did before, often travelling down her neck before he looked away with a blush. He was such a sweet dwarf, and there was something about him that made her want to jump his bones-

Dwalin had been the worst of them all. He was like a dwarf in heat, staring at her with half shut eyes and breathing heavily, even going as far as to adjust himself in front of her. The memory of it made her hands clench, wanting nothing more than to storm over to him where he was now and tease him, herself.

She really needed to get these thoughts in check.

Kaia was sure she would have been fine if the damned dwarves hadn’t started talking about how they’re all basically a bunch of sluts. Now all she wanted was to grab the first dwarf she sees and pull him down into the grass-

“You alright, lass?” Asked Balin, coming up to stand beside her.

Never mind, maybe the second dwarf she sees…

“I’m fine, Balin. A bit tired.” She smiles at him. He had become like a sort of father figure to her during these last few weeks, and he always had a kind word for her.

Balin offers her a warm smile.

“I’m not surprised lass. It’s been a long day for all of us.” He pats her shoulder. “The princes found a small lake nearby, and the dwarves are taking it in turns to have a quick wash. If you would much rather wait and go by yourself-”

“Yes please!” Kaia exclaimed, giddily. A wash was all she needed. Some cold water, and some time away from these pesky dwarves and the pheromones that came with them.

Balin chuckles at her eagerness. “Very good, lass. Ori and Nori are going next, I’ll tell them to let you know when they’re done.”

She smiles brightly at him, and he waves her goodnight.

Across the camp, Fili dries his hair while watching her. Catching her eye, he gives her a wink. She sticks her tongue out at him, and he smiles widely at her.

-

Half an hour later, Nori and Ori return. Kaia heads over and Ori helpfully points her in the direction of the lake. She thanks him and starts heading in the direction he pointed to.

The lake was not too far from the camp, but far enough that she embraced the quiet night ambience during the walk over, the Companies voices fading into nothing. She played with the braid in her hair as she walked, gently tugging it loose.

A twig snapping catches her attention.

Kaia stops, freezing in place. She reaches for her dagger which is usually sheathed at her side. Coming up short, she realises she left it behind.

Shit, she thinks. Another sound of crunching soil makes her spin around, eyes wide in fear. She grabs a stick from the ground and holds it up in defence.

Kili walks into her view, holding his hands up in surrender.

“Have mercy on me, please.” He chuckles, and Kaia breathes a sigh of relief.

“You scared me, you oaf!” She throws the stick at him, and he catches it. He smiles at her, shrugging.

“You’re getting better. I would have been able to sneak up on you with no trouble, a few weeks ago.”

“I’ve gotten used to you and your brother pulling shit, you’ve trained me well.”

They laugh, and Kili looks down at his feet, kicking a patch of dirt. The laughs die down, and he looks back into her eyes.

His eyes are so soft, her breath hitches. He opens his mouth to speak, but closes it again and swallows thickly.

“I’m sorry if we made you uncomfortable before.” He says, suddenly. “Talking about… you know all of that lover… stuff…”

“It’s alright, Kee.” Kaia smiles softly. “Truly, it didn’t bother me. It just caught me off guard I guess…”

“Of course, that makes sense.” He scratches the back of his neck. He is blushing again. Practically bouncing on the balls of his feet, looking at anything but her.

“Are you okay?” She asks, taking a step towards him. Kili looks at her, dropping his hands to his side. He goes to say something, but seems to not find the words. He takes a step towards her, meeting her halfway.

“I just… the conversation before…” He starts, “It got me thinking… about you.”

“About me?”

“About how much I want you.”

Kaia gasps slightly. She was not surprised by this, his actions had proved he desired her in some way. But the rumble in his voice as he said it, the vulnerability in his eyes as he confessed this to her. It made her heart quicken in place.

“You want me?” She says quietly, staring into his eyes.

“Yes.” Kili reaches his hand out, dragging his ring finger over her cheek. Kaia’s skin breaks out in goosebumps where he traces his finger across her skin, dragging it over her lower lip.

In a moment of confidence, she kisses his finger. He freezes, looking down at her lips. Darting her tongue out, she licks the pad of his finger, emboldened by the lust in his dark eyes. Kaia drags her teeth over his finger, before taking it between her lips, sucking slightly.

Kili groans, swaying slightly. He presses himself closer to her, pressing his lips to her temple. She can feel his bulge pressing into her pelvis, and she moans into his neck. His other hand seizes her hip, grasping her like she was the only thing anchoring him, twisting his other hand in her hair. He pulled it slightly, bringing her head back and causing her to let out a breathy gasp.

He kissed her exposed neck, dragging his lips over her tender, flushed skin. She dragged a hand over his chest, finding his exposed neck and dragging her nails against the stubble across his jaw.

Groaning, Kili presses his hips against her again, gasping into her shoulder.

“Fuck, Kaia…” He breathes, holding her to him.

“Kili…” Kaia moans, tracing her other hand down his stomach, coming to rest against his tented trousers. Kili moans, extracting his head from her neck.

“Can I… can we….” Kili stutters, eyes clouded in lust. She bites her lip, looking around to make sure they were really alone. She rubs at his erection, and he gasps again.

“I need you.” Kaia says, and Kili grins, smashing his lips onto hers.

The kiss is messy and rushed, clashing teeth and tongues licking at each others. They grasp onto one another, hands caressing and grabbing anything they could find.

Kaia pushes Kili back, pressing him against a tree. Separating from the kiss, Kaia fumbles with the ties on his leather trousers. Kili breathes sharply in front of her, running his hands through her hair and across her face and neck.

Once his trousers are undone, she pulls them down to his knees, causing his cock to spring free. He’s long and thick, the head of him red and weeping. She bites her lip at the sight, and looks into his eyes.

Kili blushes in front of her, bringing his hands up to rest on the tree above him. He looks so innocent and loving as he watches her, submitting himself to her completely. She kisses him once more, taking his lower lip between her teeth and biting it gently, and he groans, his cock pulsing between them.

Unable to wait any longer, Kaia drops to her knees, dragging her hands over his muscled thighs. Above her, Kili drops his head against the tree behind him, exhaling shakily as Kaia nestles her head against his lower stomach.

Pulling her head back, Kaia darts her tongue out, licking a line along the underside of his dick. Kili gasps and shudders, the leather of his tunic groans as his digs his nails into the tree trunk.

Kaia takes the tip of him into her mouth, licking at him before sucking, creating a vacuum. One of Kili’s hands grasps onto her skull, clenching into her hair. She moans around his cock, sending vibrations through him, and his cock pulses in response.

She slides her head down further, taking as much of him into her mouth. She let her spit gather around his length, dragging her hand along the rest of him.

“Oh fuck, oh fuck..!” Kili gasps, breathing laboured as he tried to not cum immediately due to her actions.

Kaia smiles around him, dragging her head back and forth with renewed vigour, twisting her fist around him in tandem with her mouth. Kili thrusts slightly into her mouth, his hand in her hair guiding her movements as he gasped and groaned low in his throat.

Kaia looked up at him through her eyelashes, and was rewarded immediately for her care of him. He looked down her with blown out pupils, eyes half-lidded and and mouth opened as he took staggered breaths.

She reached further down and grasped onto his balls, rolling them in her hand. Kili let out a whine, throwing his head back.

“Stop… stop….” He mutters, pulling her head back from his shaft.

Kaia removes her mouth and hands immediately, wiping at the corner of her lips as she stood up.

“Kili? Oh gods, did I hurt you?! I’m so sorry-” She’s interrupted by his lips crashing onto hers, causing her to gasp into his mouth. He wraps his arms around her, kissing her deeply and hurriedly.

He pulls back, holding her close as he looks into her eyes. “I’m so close… I need… Please let me...” He begs so prettily, hands holding her waist in a vice like grip.

Kaia smiles wrapping an arm around his neck as she lowers herself to the ground.

Lying back, Kili hovers over her. His eyes are wide and he seems suddenly nervous, going to say something. Kaia presses her finger against his lips.

“Shh, baby. Let me take care of you.” She murmurs, dragging her hands over his chest. Kili groans, laying his body over hers.

He nuzzles his head into her neck, and Kaia runs her hands through his hair, causing another choked gasp to come from the younger Durin prince.

As he nuzzles and kisses at her neck, Kaia lifts her skirt, tugging at her undergarment until it was hanging around her foot. She lifted her legs and pressed them into his sides, and Kili moaned into her neck, feeling her warmth pressing against his waist.

Kili raises his head, looking into her eyes. A silent question rests on his face, asking for her permission once more. She smiles fondly at him, leaning up to kiss his nose.

“Fuck me, Kili.”

With a groan, kill reaches down between them, taking his unbearably hard cock and pressing the tip into her. Kaia was soaking, and the feel of her warmth just at the head makes Kili whine.

Pressing into her, his eyes roll back as she takes him to easily, practically dragging him in further. Kaia gasps and locks her legs around his waist, urging him to push into her. He does so eagerly, thrusting his hips into her, sheathing himself into her to the hilt.

They both groan at the feeling. He’s so large and thick, and she’s so tight and wet. Kili shudders, his head dropping to her chest as he begins thrusting into her, fast and sloppy.

“Kaia, fuck, I… I’m so close already…. fuck, you feel so good, so tight around me…” Kili murmurs, his words becoming incoherent as he moves faster.

Kaia reaches up into his hair, caressing him as his hips begin to stutter. He lifts his head, looking into her eyes. He’s completely blissed out, eyes full of pure ecstasy, but he looks to her in apology as he knows he’s about to reach is end.

Kaia smiles at him, a wide smile which melts Kili’s heart.

“Cum for me, sweetheart.” She whispers to him.

Kili gasps, and pushes his head into the junction between her neck and shoulder. His thrusts have become erratic, and he murmurs to her in Khuzdul as his hips slap against hers.

“Amrâlimê-” Kili chokes out, as he finishes. A low whine escapes him, filling her with his seed. Kaia moans at the feeling, keeping her legs wrapped around his as he spills himself, filling her up. He keeps moving, fucking into her until he becomes exhausted.

Collapsing onto her, Kili breathes heavily into her neck. Kaia runs her hands through his hair, soothing him as he comes down from his high.

He nuzzles her, speaking sweet words into her neck.

“So beautiful… you make me feel so good, ghivashel…” He murmurs, kissing along her collarbone. She smiles into his hair.

He pulls himself from her, causing her cunt to throb once again. He felt so good, and she was sure if he lasted a little longer she would have joined him in his orgasm. But, alas, such is life.

Kili looks up at her, his cheeks flushed and smiling wide. His forehead is covered in sweat, sticking his fringe to his face. She chuckles, combing her fingers through his hair.

He opens his mouth to speak, but is beaten to the punch…

“Well, what do we have here?”

Kaia squeaks in surprise at the new voice, and both she and Kili look over to find the source of the voice...

-

Thank you for reading!! The next chapter will be up soon!! If you can't wait, the first four chapters are up on my AO3 <3

Translations !!

Ghivashel – treasure of all treasures