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bluebellhairpin · 1 year

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Thorin Oakenshield X Fem!Reader

Summary; Retrieving missing ponies, exploring Troll caves, being hunted by Orcs - Oh My!

Warnings; Pregnancy used as a bluff. Character death mentions. Canon-typical violence. Reader is female-body-coded, uses she/her pronouns, and is Human.

Listening to; 'Solider, Poet, King' Instrumental Cover by Cullen Vance

Part 1 || Part 3

Series Masterlist || Masterlist || Ko-Fi

This is a re-write of a old series! If you'd like to read the original, you can find it Here.

“I should've seen this one coming,”

Your mumbling came out breathy, almost like it wasn’t spoken at all. Beside you were the Durin brothers, Fili and Kili. On your watch, ponies had been stolen - by Trolls was your guess, of all the beasts this land had to throw at you, it had to be them - and now you had to deal with forming a plan to get them back.

Between the three of you, nothing was happening very quickly.

A curse broke behind you, and you turned to see Bilbo approaching - juggling three bowls of stew between two arms, and almost making a mess of it. You looked at him, and an idea sprung.

“Bilbo could get the ponies.” You leaned over to Kili, whispering so the Hobbit couldn't hear. “He’s small and quiet - those giant’s would barely have time to think!”

"Strapping idea -”

“Master Boggins!” Fili said, surging forward and clapping the poor Hobbit on the shoulder to pull him forward. “We’ve found ourselves in a bit of a mix.”

“See we’re meant to have fourteen ponies -”

“But there’s only twelve -”

“We know where they are -”

“But we need your help.” They both said. How they managed to sync up so well was astounding - they weren’t even twins - but you knew sometimes siblings are just like that when they’re close enough.

Eventually Fili and Kili wandered off, chasing the direction where the ponies would be, you followed, with Bilbo behind. Bilbo was urged forwards, Fili disappeared, and soon you were the only one left watching the Hobbit try - and fail - to free the ponies. It wasn’t that he was getting caught - but you felt you were going to burst at the amount of times he ‘almost’ was.

Then he was.

You quietly yelped with him - almost jumping from your hiding spot. You stayed still, biting your lip in indecision at what to do when Kili and his brother appeared at your sides. The others came up behind you soon after, and when they decided Bilbo had been tortured with trying to stall in conversation enough, they all surged forwards, crying ready for a fight.

You were less enthusiastic. Much less. You’d barely had a hand on your sword to draw it when it was all over. A short-lived battle indeed.

The Trolls, three of them, were corralling you all into bags - big hessian, dirty things - you did not want to be put in one of those things. Despite your thrashing protests - and your contemplation of resorting to biting (which fell through, those were horribly gross looking fingers) - you were thrust into a bag alongside Thorin.

The damn thing didn’t even cover your shoulders - if the drawstring wasn’t so tight, you might’ve been able to wiggle out. You’d give the trolls credit, they knew how to tie a good knot.

“Human’s good for stews, not roastin’ like Dwarf.” One said, drawing your attention and making your eyes go wide. “Chop her up and put her in, that’ll fix the mess yous made of it.”

“Roast Dwarf, Human stew - we gonna eats good tonight!”

“Hey no! You can’t eat me!” You squealed, kicking your feet in the bag - Thorin made a grunt beside you after you kicked his shin in your panic, but said nothing of it aside from hissing out a quiet ‘watch it’. Especially after a troll picked you up and paid zero mind to your screaming. “Listen, you can’t eat me! You can’t!”

“Why not? You’ve got nothin’ special about you.” He looked at you with a sideways head-tilt.

“I do! I’m not like the others, you couldn’t eat me yet.” One of the smarter Trolls looked over, noticing the extra fight you were putting up.

“Why wouldn’t we eats yous yet? We says a Human’s more tasty than a Dwarf anyways.” He said.

“Aha see, that’s the thing. I’m…” you swallowed, thinking of some excuse you could do that the others couldn’t. Then it hit you. “I’m with child!” you blurted. But it phased the Troll none.

“Meanings you’re extra, extra tasty. More meats on you.” He took you from his friend, grabbing his knife and bringing it far too close to you for your liking.

“No, wait, wait! Just think! Once I get bigger and give birth you’d have an extra Human to eat. I’ve heard babies are even more delicious than full grown Humans - you’d have it and me to eat then!” you spoke quickly, wasting no time in trying to lie your way out of being eaten. “In fact, you should probably let me go.”

“We ain’t stupid.” The Troll said. “We got no reason to not tie yous up lie the rest,”

“No see, listen, tying me up would restrict the growth of the child.” you bluffed, knowing all you needed to buy more time. “If I’m not tied up then the child will be bigger than normal.” you added, nodding as if to convince them.

The Trolls seemed to buy your excuse and put you down in the pen with the ponies, but made no effort to free you. But you did.

You wiggled you arms - thrashing like a madman as if it’d make any difference. And it did. Soon you had one arm free, but the rest would have to wait. You didn’t have enough time to free the rest, you needed to help the others - time was of the essence.

You looked over at the pile of Dwarves and Bilbo, catching Thorin’s eye as you slowly moved towards the back of the pen in hopes you could just slip away to get help. Gandalf was out there somewhere, and maybe if you could get away - pray he was close by and find him - then he could help much more than you. The Trolls were too busy trying to stop one of the Dwarfs from squirming to notice you clumsily slide out of the pen and back further into the forest. hobbling and finally shedding the bag as you went.

Thorin watched you. His mind told him you were slipping away to save your own skin. But his heart told him to stay silent and wait. Even though he thought you disliked him with a fiery passion, you held both his nephews in very high regard, and became almost like a daughter to Balin. Not to mention how you effortlessly had the likes of both Dwalin and Ori wrapped around your little finger.

He believed you wouldn’t leave those you liked to die simply because you thought one person you disliked deserved it.

You found Gandalf within ten minutes, and you managed to not get caught again as you watched on as he saved the others.

What a wizard.

The Trolls were turned stone in the first light of day, and you set to quick work of helping the others out of their restraints. You’d already unbagged Fili, and Dwalin when you reached Thorin. He looked at you intently as you worked on the bag.

“How’d you come up with that idea? To fake yourself being with child?” he started, “If Gandalf didn’t save us and we were stuck, you’d only prolong your own suffering.” Once he finished talking you were also finished with his bag, letting him get himself out fully as you leant back on a stone. “You’d have watched us all die.”

“I guess I was with child once, in a way. That sort of thing doesn’t leave you very quickly.” You mumbled. You played with your hands as he looked over at you with a slightly shocked face. “Technically it wasn't mine, but by the time our time together ended it really seemed like he was.”

“What happened?” His question made him seem genuinely interested. You couldn’t help the feeling in your stomach that made you want to share everything with him. A deep breath left your nose.

“Long story short, I passed through the Misty Mountains, a group before me wasn’t so fortunate. A young boy was the only survivor, and I couldn't just leave him there to die, so I decided to take him with me until I reached the next village or town.” You said, watching as the others untied and dressed each other. “I tried my best, but trolls have to make sure they ruin everyone’s best day.”

Thorin remembered Gandalf had said you'd come across Orcs and Trolls before. This was your encounter with trolls, but what about Orcs? He decided to ask, leaning beside you as you both looked over the others.

“If you don't mind me asking - and I don't want to come across as prying - what exactly happened?” He asked gently, keeping his eyes forwards and off you. You glanced over at him, noting that there was still not a single punch of aggression in his words or demeanor.

“It was a little ways back towards the mountains from here.” you started softly, “I had the child strapped to me, had to tuck my pack under my arm - I knew it meant I couldn't get to my sword quickly if an attack came. I knew it was risky, but the boy couldn't walk, he was too small, I had no other choice. Out of nowhere, a Troll came. It got the child and I.” You let out a shaken sigh, eyes watering slightly, and your hands wringing each other in your lap. “I barely got away from them, but Orcs came after, and in the confusion I couldn’t get away in time for the both of us. If I’d moved faster it would’ve been fine.”

Thorin felt a sudden guilt wash over him for how much of a arse he’d been to you. He took in a silent breath of courage, then - as if possessed by someone who hadn’t been ignoring you for the past three days - took one of your hands in his, letting his thumb brush over your knuckles. He felt himself relax when you didn't object to his actions.

You looked down at him, and he looked up at you.

“I'm sorry.” He felt himself saying, although what happened to the child was no fault of his own.

In fact, it was either orcs or frostbite, not the King of Durinsfolk. Orcs certainly would have been a much quicker death, frostbite would've been much slower. Orcs may be cruel, but they prefer the quick death of children since they weep more than they scream. Oh, how Orcs loved to hear people scream.

“I guess it wasn’t one of those things meant to be changed.” you said, shaking your head lightly. “He must’ve meant to die. I only changed how and when. But at least he’s with his family now.”

Thorin and you shared a look, one that passed understanding between you both for a few long moments. He needed you - something really was going to happen on this journey back to his homeland. You needed him - so you could get home too.

An unspoken agreement was formed - one that would turn out to be much more effective than your old one. You’d help each other. No more pushing each other's buttons. No more getting on one another's nerves.

You’d finally get along.

Close by to where you were almost made into a Troll's dinner, was a Troll hole.

The fellows in your Company were almost happy to venture in despite the smell - but you could see a few of them didn’t mind needing to say outside to keep watch though. You wanted to join them, real bad, but something deep inside you told you to go in.

Like you needed to.

It was so dark, and the smell only made your eyes water - blurring your vision even more. You pushed past it all, including the Dwarves around you making long-term investments. Something drew you towards one of the furthest corners.

You looked, seeing nothing. Kicking the dirt though proved fruitful when the sound of metal scraping along stone reached your ears. Down at your feet, among the dirt and leaf litter was the hilt of a sword.

Reaching down, you took it and brought it level to your eyes.

It’s hilt was leather bound, with a blade cover that was the length of your arm. Both were worn, old. But you took the cover off to reveal shining steel. The metal was uncarved, untouched by anything other than a forges hammer.

“You should take it.” Gandalf said. You turned to see him watching you from under the brim of his hat. “Such an unnamed sword has no history. An unwritten past. It can serve you well in the future.”

You looked down at the weapon, cradling it in both hands like a single wrong move could slice your fingers off. Gandalf was probably right - usually he was, as unfortunate as that could be sometimes. Your current sword was good, it served its purpose well and you intended for it to continue to do so, but it wasn’t made for you. It wasn’t made like this. Finely forged, and strong. This one was a better fit for you than your old one - it was too short, too heavy - this was longer, lighter.

So you took it.

Stepping out of the cave was a breath of fresh air - literally.

The smell of wet moss and dirt was so welcomed after being in that hole, even the brightness of the sun shining through the trees above was a welcomed pain to your eyes. The moment you took to appreciate the piece of world around you didn’t last long.

Panic rose in the dwarves, and you took forward to Dwalin to ask what was wrong.

“Thorin, he saw someone coming.”

“Orcs?” You asked. Maybe the new sword wasn’t a good idea - you were unable to figure out which sword to reach for now.

“Not sure what or who,” Dwalin said, “But whatever it is is coming fast, be prepared for a fight, lass.”

To be completely honest with yourself, you’d thought you’d prepared very well. Strapping your new sword across your shoulder quickly, with your old one drawn - you felt a rush run through you as if you could take on an army. But when a sled came into view - being pulled by a group of rather large hare’s, the Company met the man at the helm with confused silence.

Until Gandalf shouted out a name and moved past the group to start a hushed conversation.

“Whose that?” You asked, arms going slack at the signs of no immediate threat.

“I’d guess some other wizard by the looks of his funny hat.”

“You're one to speak Bofur.”

“He’s a strange one,” you mused, watching as Gandalf pulled a stick - a bug? A stick bug? - from the mouth of his friend. “Is it normal to see two wizards together in one place?”

“You think seeing one wizard is normal?” Kili asked in return, looking up at you with a smirk. You shoved his shoulder - their rough love was rubbing off on you.

“You are a cheeky one.” You said with a smile.

Everyone dispersed slowly, still weary of the new company and the news he might be bringing, but ready to relax with no immediate danger. Then something changed. The wind, maybe, and in the distance was a howl.

Your ears perked up, and so did everyone's guards. Shouts of warnings - Wargs and Orcs approaching - rose, and a ripple of panic went through the Company. With nowhere to hide, and your ponies spooked off into thin air (Gandalf's horse and Phar Lap included), it seemed like you were trapped. A fight was coming, and the future didn’t look so bright.

“What’s happening?” You heard. Bilbo was behind you, timidly clutching a sword - new, his, Gandalf given too no doubt - and looking none like the burglar who tried to free the ponies from trolls just hours earlier.

“Orcs, by the sounds.” He’d never seen dangers like Orcs before, you realized as you watched his eyes blow wide open. “Don’t worry, stay close to me. I’ll keep an eye on you.” He nodded, reassured by your words.

But you weren’t feeling so confident. You hadn’t really fought an Orc before - avoided blows, and ran yes, but not fight. You didn’t know if you even had the strength in you to do it. Though no time like the present to find out.

You liked this plan. It was working.

But you were running out of breath, and each time you had to be pulled - or pull others - back to hide behind a boulder out of sight of the wizard Radagast and the Orcs following him was getting to be exhausting. It was like you were going round in circles, only a matter of time before someone saw and knew the wizard was just a distraction.

The Company was running out of time.

Such a hiding place was where you found yourself. You had your sword drawn, concluding that it wasn’t a matter of ‘if’ but ‘when’ you’d need to use it. Bilbo had listened, stickling close to you - if he wasn’t, then he was close to someone else instead, never straying far from the group.

A breath of wind brought close the sound of a Warg approaching, and you pushed closer to the rock behind you. Thorin was beside you, your head level with his. You watched as his nose flared - from the running, maybe, but he could’ve been scared like you too.

“What do we do?” You whispered, but the noise made him turn to you with a deadly look.

‘Be quiet.’ his eyes said. You swallowed thickly, and turned back to face the lands in front of you. At least if that thing bit your head off, your last sight would be a pretty golden field. Then Thorin’s shoulders slumped beside you, pressing into yours. ‘It’ll be okay.’ the action told you. ‘Stay calm.’

So you took a deep breath in, as quiet and slow as you could manage, and decided to trust him. Right now what was needed was cooperation, not panic. Following what Thorin said hadn’t served anyone wrong so far - it couldn’t fail you now.

And for a while, it didn’t. But that ‘while’ didn’t last long.

The Company was trapped.

You all crowded together, forming a circle, readying to fight Orcs and their Wargs until breath left you no more - even you, your hands weren’t as shaky as you thought they might’ve been.

Kili was shooting riders left, right, and center. Dwalin was charging towards them like he had zero value for his own life - really, you reckoned it was just him trying to get this ordeal over and done with, and honestly good for him. Bilbo was looking quite lost. You were trying to keep track of everyone while not getting in the way. And Gandalf - was nowhere to be found.

“Where is that wizard?” Fili asked. His voice travelled well.

“Left us to die by the looks.” Thorin yelled back.

“Over here you fools!” Gandalf said, suddenly popping his head up above some small rocks behind you.

“Thorin!” You yelled, pushing Bilbo towards the hiding hole as you saw you’d gained the dwarf’s attention. “Get everyone over here now!”

You ran over to Gandalf, standing on the other side of the hole and counting as each dwarf (and lone hobbit) slid inside.

Nine, ten, Bifur made twelve - but there were meant to be fourteen. Thorin was practically right in front of you, two agonizing strides and he’d be in and safe - but Kili? Kili was far, far too far away for your liking.

Thank the gods he always listened to his Uncle.

“Kili!” Thorin yelled. You watched as his nephew turned, then turned again, then - finally - started running your way.

Gandalf was in, then Kili. All that were left were you and Thorin. He turned to you, and you’d bet your life he was going to get you to go in first, but you wouldn’t have that. You wouldn’t let him.

“Age before beauty, your majesty.” And you pushed him in, sliding in right after.

Inside, everyone was huddled together, still weary, still prepared for the Orcs to follow, but a commotion started above.

The sound of a horn, horses hooves. A body rolled down in front of you, the dead body of an Orc. Nori poked it with his hammer, but it didn’t move. Then it was quiet. They were gone, and it was over.

You looked up, almost dreading the would-be climb back out - the steep slope, and the borderline mud-dirt had a picture of you covered in filth flashing over your eyelids. With your hands on your hips you were almost psyched enough to do it when Dwalin said something about a tunnel.

Slope be damned, a tunnel would be like heaven in comparison.

It took little to no convincing from anyone for you to follow it - joining the long line of travelers with Dori at your front and Balin behind you. Even Thorin’s words of aggression-lased hesitancy weren’t putting a dampener on you enjoying the walk out, rather than a climb.

Eventually the darkness gave way to light, and the tunnel opened wide. Beyond was a sight that had you standing still in awe.

Rivendell.

#the girl who knew the end #thorin oakenshield x reader #thorin x reader #thorin x you #the hobbit x reader

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theviridianbunny · 2 months

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THE BLACK SAPPHIRE GALA - PART 1; THE BALLAD OF THE MOCKINGJAY

The night of the Black Sapphire Gala holds many stories, memories and secrets.

Victoria Crane belongs to my beloved @another-corpo-rat - thank you for trusting me with her and letting me write her with her wife and hubbie (and soon to give Viridian and Jackie the worst night of their life at this gala ) - Sprimklimg little bits of oc lore into my fics oh Lordy - one day I will give proper exposition to all my world building (when I eventually have the spoons - Ty audhd) This is not beta read and I’m currently posting this as I sit by a pool in Egypt in near 30c heat - the sunshine has spurred me on to try and write again (maybe it’s also the one rum and coke I have in the afternoons :3c)

Part two coming soon (ish) - you can also read this fic over on ao3 here ❤️

It started off as just a simple question. Victoria’s golden optics studying her partner through the pain of a large back-lit bathroom mirror. She watched as Amrin’s white and orange cybernetic hand steadily applied that last bit of makeup. The handsome mechanic was all dolled up for tonight. Ornately patterned Golden eyeliner and garnet red lipstick - she wore a backless black halter neck jumpsuit - low cut - a lace bralette underneath. Leather heeled boots made her just as tall as Victoria.

“ my darling- how did you get your burn scar? Victoria's tone was inquisitive. Trying not to pry and pick - to mine and dig on insecurities - this question was caring - and genuine.

Sadly for Victoria - it was poorly timed. Victoria noticed how her partner's body language clammed up - her red eyes avoiding Victoria’s gold for just a moment. Their eyes met through the mirror as Victoria came to her - one golden hand caressing Amrins bare shoulder - there was a moment of silence as Victoria waited for her to speak.

Amrin's lips pursed- before she spoke.

“I’d rather not discuss that - not tonight. In time- ill be happy to tell you the story- but not tonight ” Amrin’s voice was unusually stern as she put away her makeup tidy into a small hessian bag - then stashed away into a draw.

She joined Victoria , who was dressed in a sleeveless gold fronted body suit. Paired with motor oil black kick flared trousers and strapped marching black sandals. Chunky Emerald earrings adorned with golden vipers matched the buckles on the sandals.

“Darling, would you like one of my furs?” Victoria asked - gesturing to her rail of mink and animal furs - a mix of synthetic and the real thing.

Amrin shook her head “no thank you - I should be plenty warm without one, once we’re inside…’

And with that, Victoria offered her hand out to Amrin and the two made their way out of Kurt’s penthouse - entering a glass pained elevator to make their way to the ballroom of the black sapphire.

“How did you get your scar Vic?” Amrin asked - trying to throw the attention off of herself.

Victoria smirked - the golden plating over the old facial wound shone magnificently as she pulled the other woman into her - the two shared a momentary kiss - before the older woman spoke.

Her voice soft - spoken close - like the two were sharing secrets.

“Oh, You know how I got it Amrin-” a golden hand against Amrin's back - holding and tracing up and down Amrin’s spine as she continued “ You know of the incident of 75- you know of the little rabbit... word is, she's here with her dullard tonight… the two have been running around dogtown like a pair of stray puppies. “

As the lift reached the outer balcony- the two women made their way to the ballroom itself. They were under a blanket of stars , smog and light pollution.

Victoria heading to the bar - to drink and find Kurt. Amrin on the other hand made a b-line for the open-air balcony. The night was still young and the party hadn't truly started yet. Guests were still arriving. Amrin knew she was alone out there as she leant over the metal railing.

Amrin looked out onto the night city skyline and sighed to herself. Victoria’s question had stirred something within her… Amrin knew her partner had good intentions- she knew Victoria never wanted to intentionally upset her..

Amrin groaned - she thought to herself that maybe her skin was growing thin.

It had been many years since she left night city - since she left Rasmus and the trauma team. It'd been months since she'd heard from the cyberpsychosis researcher - maybe he'd finally got the hint she didn't want to be in contact as regularly anymore…

Amrin and Rasmus had history - albeit ancient now. From friends to lovers- to husband and wife and work partners - Their eventual divorce was probably one of the most difficult and messiest moments of their lives.

There were times her mind wandered back to the Sakura haired medic -mostly to the little things - the mundane things that made her world brighter. … like how she would come home to the apartment after working a night shift on the trauma team..

She’d come home - worn out and ready to have a shower and fall into bed. The apartment would be stinking of smoke and a symphony of swears could be heard, pronounced in a thick brummie accent.

Curiously would get the better of her , she would venture into the kitchen after taking off her jacket and boots - and see Rasmus plating up a synth bacon sandwich for her - the bacon would be burnt , surely it would be acrid and hard to digest..

But Amrin wouldn't care, the food was made with love and care. That's all that mattered. She'd take the plate from Rasmus and thank him - a quick peck to his cheek before she sat down and tucked into her breakfast. She'd watch as Rasmus would linger for a moment- the two sharing smiles before he would go and get ready for his day shift on the trauma team..

The days of Soft smiles and burnt synth bacon were long gone now.

Mostly all that remained were memories of the stormy night - the one that left the pair both physically and emotionally traumatised. There were only memories of the night that really felt like the beginning of the end.

The night was cold - Amrin wished she'd taken up Victoria’s offer of a fur coat. She knew there was one that would have gone just perfectly … Amrin grumbled to herself in her mother tongue and debated moving inside - but ultimately decided to stay out a little longer.

She booted up the hollo , she scrolled down to Rasmus's holo icon. A sakura blossom - entangled between dna heelexis. Her fingers dwindled and she hesitated- before taking the plunge and calling him. Her mouth going dry - she didn't know what to say- she just wanted to hear his voice…

The ringer rung out until it went to answer phone - Rasmus's familiar voice spoke with a calm - yet professional demeanour.

“This is Rasmus Sundburg - Night city trauma team research. Sorry I can't pick up your call right now. Leave a voicemail and I'll get back to you as soon as I can”

The line beeped - prompting Amrin to talk - she sighed deeply, before speaking.

“Rasmus- its me.. Sorry its been a while-” Her mind going blank “Gods- I. . Call me when you can - yeah? We need a catch up.. ”

And with that, she cut the line- before she embarrassed herself further. Face flushed. She reached into her clutch wallet- she pulled out her e - cigarette. Feeling tearful as she took a drag and then exhaled Cherry flavoured vapour.

Hot pin prick tears welling - she sniffed- looking out to the city still.

She cried - silent and alone. Amrin preferred it that way- no one to see her in such a vulnerable state.

Wiping her eyes with her free hand - she grumbled with frustration, more at herself than anything. Her makeup was sure to be smudged by her tears…

Trying to compose herself now- Amrin prepared her to mingle. To be social. To please and be merry - even though all she wanted to do was return to her bed - get into her pyjamas and sleep. She didn't want to be human or socialise - running on empty and burnt out now. The day leading up to this gala had already been hard on her…

As Amrin tried to get herself to breathe - She felt the metal of a cybernetic hand touch the small of her back - Amrin knew that touch from anywhere.

Kurt had joined her now. She was no longer alone.

Dressed down on such an evening. Black tshirt tucked into slate grey cargos. Combat boots polished with new laces.

“What are you doing out here on your own?” His voice stern , but also laced with concert.

“I could ask you the same thing- thought Victoria would be all over you by now” she jerked back at him. Amrin didn't mean for her words to come out as sharp as they had.

Amrin heard how Kurt laughed - how he smiled softly all be it for a moment.

“Oh shes already demanded her quota of kisses - but she made an off comment about you - thought she might have hit a nerve”

Hansen watched as his lover furrowed her eyebrows and took another drag of her e-ciggarette. Blowing out the smoke - she stuffed the cigarette back into her purse.

“I'll take that as a yes-”

Amrin pursed her lips - before speaking.

“ I'm trying to be brave . To talk about the pain- the suffering- the past. But it takes time… I’m just not ready to open up to her Kurt..”

“I know , my dear” his words genuine- soft. Offering out a big cybernetic arm to the mechanic.

“Join me inside? The night is still young- I can direct you to a quiet corner where you won’t be disturbed” a small chuckle arose before he next spoke “and my darling - if any of our guests dares disturb you - know they will feel my wrath and all of dogtown’s too”

He watched how his lover smiled - all be it for a moment - as he took his arm and leant into him. A casual act of intimacy Amrin never thought she would feel again. She stayed close to him for a moment - feeling his warmth against the coldness of the night.

“Ready to go inside?” He asked

Amrin’s reply came as a silent nod.

And so, Kurt lead his dear mechanic inside. Taking her to one of the many bars - where a masculine chromed up bartender was serving a woman in a very expensive dress. Silver hands poured what looked to be an espresso martini, as he wished the woman a good night.

The bartender turned to the colonel and his mechanic.

“What can I get you both tonight?” He asked - instinctively reaching to the scotch for the colonel.

“The usual for me ” Kurt’s gaze travelled to Amrin.

She was still thinking - but then very softly spoke her order.

“A Bloody Mary please - with extra black pepper and spice”

Her social battery just wasn’t there tonight - Kurt could tell as Amrin leant into him.

As the bartender quickly got to work making drinks - Amrin reached into her purse - pulling out a pair of tiny golden plates earbuds - slotting the left one into her ear.

To her surprise - holo rang out quietly.

INCOMING CALL - RASMUS SUNDBURG.

Amrin quickly rejected the incoming call - now wasn’t a good time. She had a Bloody Mary to drink and a social battery to try and recharge.

She quickly messaged her ex husband - frantically typing

“call you back soon. At a corporate engagement” - this was a partial lie. Yes she was at a corporate engagement - no she did not intend to call Rasmus back anytime soon.

She probably would in time - but not tonight.

The mood began to lift as the bartender handed Amrin her Bloody Mary - Kurt his scotch. Amrin letting go of Kurt’s arm to grab her Bloody Mary. She took a sip - it was definitely spicy enough.

The two moved away from the bar.

Kurt took a mouthful of his beverage before he gestured towards the roulette tables.

“There’s a quiet nook on the right side of the roulette tables - a few comfy sofas with cushions.” He placed his hand over Amrin’s back as a sign of comfort “ You can spend as much time as you’d like there - and also know there’s no pressure to stay, you’ve got a key to the penthouse- you can go and make yourself comfy up there if that would be easier on your mind” Kurt’s tone was reassuring.

“Thank you,Kurt. I think I will be fine down here.”

Amrin’s gaze travelled to the red haired twins at one of roulette tables. Feeling the mischievous energy of the woman in yellow.

“The two redheads won’t cause me trouble - right ?” She asked - debating putting her second ear bud in.

She heard how Kurt laughed.

“Oh, the netrunner twins?” He asked

“Yes, them. The woman gives me uneasy vibes”

“Aymeric” he gestured to the man in blue “and Aurore” the woman in yellow “they will not cause trouble - I promise you.” Kurt reassured his lover.

He took her cybernetic hand and kissed the back of it - before he continued

“If for whatever ungodly reason they decide to give you trouble or grief - or even look at you the wrong way - you are to send me a message on the hollo - I will send Victoria down to give them a bollocking- or I will do it myself.” - there was a slightly comedic tone to his voice.

He placed another kiss on her hand- for luck.

“Does that sound fair Amrin?” He asked. Seeing how she smiled felt like his evening had been made already

“It sounds great” she replied - taking the other ear bud from its case - placing it into her ear - the world around her went blissfully quiet.

The two shared a kiss before they parted ways. She waved to Kurt before she turned and walked away.

As Amrin made her way to the roulette tables - she passed a woman with short teal hair and skull implanted kiroshis. An Arasaka cyber arm partially visible through the mesh sleeves of her blouse. High waisted trousers and blocked heel boots made her appear tatter than she actually was.

The handsome mechanic watched from afar as the woman ordered a very blue looking cocktail and thanked the bartender - she watched as the woman wandered across the ballroom to a very tall and broad man - dressed in a sharp suit. Golden cross earrings dangled from his ear lobes and delicate cable cyberware mapped out his face. Dark hair shaved short at the back and sides - with a top knot tied with a wine red hairband.

Amrin watched as the man bent down to kiss the woman on the cheek, before she made her way to the quiet spot Kurt recommended. As she passed the netrunner twins and found her self a comfy quiet spot - She booted up her holo. Taking a large gulp of her Bloody Mary before texting Victoria.

“I think I’ve spotted your rabbit-”

#oc: M0CK1NGJAY #oc: rasmus #kurt hansen #Victoria crane #otp: expired medicine #otp: all this and heaven too #otp: snakes oil #ot3: hounds of love #cyberpunk 2077 #cp2077 #bunny’s fanfic tag #Kurt Hansen x oc #cyberpunk 2077 phantom liberty #another-corpo-rat #cyberpunk 2077 fanfic #bunny's fanfic tag #ao3 #phantom liberty

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asiajute · 1 year

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boliv-jenta · 5 months

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Maxwell Lord x reader. Din Djarin x ofc. Oberyn Martell x Dieter Bravo.

Set in The 'And It Just Keeps Getting Better' Universe.

Warnings: Smut! M/F, M/M.

Summary: The inhabitants of the motel celebrate Christmas.

Author's note: not proofread because it's already Christmas, and I just finished it.

Merry Christmas

“It's the most wonderful time of the year!” Maxwell exclaims, stamping his snow covered boots on the welcome mat just inside the reception door. Fairy lights and garland adorning the front window shake as he shut the door firmly behind him to keep out the bitter December wind.

Mrs Lord can't help but smile at her husband's child-like joy. Speaking of child-like. “So you'll be back with Alastair around four?”

“Yes, my love.” Maxwell confirms with a press of his cold lips against her cheek. Even through the cold she still leans into his affection. His cinnamon sweet aftershave fills her senses. It's so consuming that she can taste it on her tongue and it's splashed on that oh so biteable neck. Her indecent train of thought is interrupted by the Christmas bells on the door tinkling.

“Sorry. I didn't mean to interrupt.” Din casts his eyes away almost shyly.

Mrs Lord is still taken by how small the hulk of man can make himself seem.

“It's fine, Din. Are those Grogu's presents?” Mrs Lord makes her way around the counter to take the large hessian sack.

“Thank you again for suggesting this. Grogu hasn't stopped talking about it.” A broad smile lights up Din's handsome face. His brown eyes that can be so intense shine with warmth.

“Neither has Alastair. They will have a wonderful time.” Maxwell can barely contain his own excitement. “Alastair will be here at four but you are welcome to come over earlier to settle in. We always love to see Grogu.”

“He loves to see you, too.” Din smiles at how close they have gotten. Grogu has now got so many aunts, uncles and cousins. It warms Din's heart to see the boy finally surrounded by family.

“Dinner is at two tomorrow. Santos is cooking an amazing feast. Everyone is coming down around half an hour before so we can get everyone seated. There are so many of us.” Mrs Lord laughs.

Who knew that her hiring some company for the night would lead to her having all the company she could wish for?

Alastair wasted no time in throwing himself into Mrs Lord's arms as soon as he saw her she couldn't help affectionately chuckling into his hair. “Hi, Sweetheart!”

“Hi, Mrs Mom.” Alastair thought his nickname was hilarious since everyone calls her Mrs Lord.

It was the ‘mom’ part that stuck with her. Even though she still had no desire to have a child of her own she loved Alastair like he was her own.

“Do you want to see where you will be sleeping?” Maxwell picks up his son's overnight bag already knowing what his response will be. Alastair has been talking about this for weeks.

The three rooms they would be using were on a row of four set back from the rest of the motel. They were once used for staff and their families. They were the lastest rooms to be completely remodelled. The middle one was where Grogu and Alastair would be sleeping. The room to the left had an adjoining door. Din and his girlfriend would be in that one. Grogu had come a long way but Din didn't want him to feel alone. He had explained that he can come through the door at any time to get his father. Grogu had insisted that he would be having too much fun to need him. A thought that warmed and slightly broke Din's heart. That little boy he rescued was growing bigger everyday. As proud as he was, a tiny part of him missed being needed with Grogu's every step towards independence.

Mr and Mrs Lord would sleep in a room on the other side. It was thought it best that the boys couldn't just walk into their room at any time. They had very little restraint when it came to each other.

“Wow!” Alastair’s eyes lit up at the sight before him. There was a Christmas tree in the corner with some presents already wrapped underneath it. Stockings with their names on hung from the bottom of each bed. There were snacks and fixings for hot chocolate set up for them. Board games were stacked on the bedside cabinet. “This is amazing! Thank you, Daddy.”

As much as Maxwell loved his new life, having his son there just made it complete. “You are so welcome!” Maxwell scopes his son up into his arms. “Now shall we go pick something for dinner? We thought we would order pizza.”

“Yes!” Alastair matched his father’s joyful mood.

When an order comes in from the motel in the woods it always causes a stir. Everyone knows the rumours. Satan worshippers. Some sort of religious cult. Sex maniacs. Serial killers. It wasn't the rumours that caused a stir though. Everyone with half a brain that visited knew exactly what was going on there. As they were regular customers, everyone in the pizza place knew. The stir was caused to be the one that delivered the order because they tipped big. Luckily for Jun he was the only one there when the order came in. Unluckily for him, it was a big one.

Reaching into the back seat, he began to pull out the order. Not wanting to make too many trips in the snow, he tried to carry as many things as possible. The garlic knots balanced on top of a stack of pizzas almost tipped over only to be caught by a beautiful woman. “I can take those.”

Before Jun could answer, a parade of men followed her to help take the food in while two excited children weaved in and out of them. Before Jun could form any questions of the set up in his mind, a man with swept back, honey blond hair pushed a wad of cash into his hand. “Keep the change. Happy Holidays!”

Once all the people had retreated Jun blinked back to the cash in his hand to find that it was almost four times the amount of the food. “Er, thank you!” He called to the closing door.

In Reception the pizza was handed out for everyone to take back to their rooms. The boys and their little families retreated to the boys’ sleepover room. They ate their fill sitting criss-cross applesauce on the floor.

“Slow down, kid.” Din had to remind Grogu. Even after all the months living comfortably with Din, the child's survival instincts still kicked in. Once upon a time he never knew when or if he'd get to each again.

“Sorry, Dad.” Grogu grinned. Before the boy would have hung his head in shame. He used to take everything, even the smallest, slightly negative comment, to heart. Din's own heart swells at the realisation that Grogu now genuinely feels at ease and the kid is just enjoying the food on offer.

Din puts his hand on Grogu's shoulder. “It's okay, Son.”

Grogu happily leans into his father as he finishes off the piece of stuffed crust in his hand. Mrs Lord snaps a quick candid picture on the camera Maxwell bought her for Christmas. Din mouths a heartfelt ‘thank you’. It's for more than the photo. It's for giving him the opportunity that set him on the path to have his found family.

Mrs Lord mouths back ‘you're welcome’ with tears in her eyes, knowing how the motel has changed so many lives in so many wonderful ways. Before they can get too caught up in their emotions, Maxwell, who is practically vibrating with excitement, loudly excuses himself. Both Din and Mrs Lord know what he's up to so their smiles grow into suppressed laughter.

All the adults tidy up the remnants of the pizza feast while the boys chat animatedly back and forth on their beds. Not before long the sound of jingling sleigh bells fills the air outside. Din and Mrs Lord exchange an eye roll. Thankfully Din's partner goes into full teacher mode. “Boys. Can you hear that?”

Both Alastair and Grogu kneel up on their beds excitedly looking at the door. The bells grow louder until they stop outside the door. The children squeal with excitement as the door opens.

“Ho, ho, ho. Merry Christmas!” Comes a deep voice with a very generic American accent. The door opens wider to reveal ‘Santa’ in a very stylish suit, with a small sack swung over his shoulder.

“I hear you boys are on the nice list!”

“Dad!” Alastair giggles.

“Dad? Oh, I just passed your father. He had to go make a phone call. He said you are a very good boy. He also said that Grogu is too and he loves you both very much.” Santa informs them.

The air is nearly knocked out of Santa as Grogu runs over to hug him. His head of curls pressed against Santa’s more streamlined tummy, his arms tightly around his waist. “I love you, too.” His voice is barely above a whisper. “I mean, thank you Santa.” He adds louder grinning up at Maxwell.

Maxwell is just about keeping it together as he slips back into character. “You are very welcome. Now I came here to make a special early visit. I have one present each for you. I will bring the rest tonight when I visit each and every child.”

As Grogu runs off to sit back in his bed and wait for his gift, Max moves after him, catching the eye of Din who is trying to hide his tear streaked face in his partner's hair. Maxwell gives him a nod as his own lip trembles.

Placing the sack on the end of Alastair’s bed, he puts out two identical presents. Each one immaculately wrapped in green paper with a red ribbon wrapped around and tied into a bow. The only difference was the glittery tag with their names on in a fancy gold scrawl.

“Here you go.” He hands both boys their presents. When they don't open them immediately, Maxwell urges them. “Well, go on. Open them!”

Both boys take this as permission to tear into the wrapper. Inside they find a plain white box. Excitement building they pull off the lid to both find a set of Mickey Mouse ears. Both of them look perplexed at Santa.

Santa's accent cracks with excitement as he exclaims “You boys are going to Disneyland!”

It took a good hour and a half to calm the boys down and get them to bed. When it finally looked like they would finally go asleep the adults piled out the main door. Mrs Lord turned swiftly to to Din. “Can you watch the boys? Maxwell and I have some business in the motel. Thank you.”

Without giving him time to answer she leaves dragging her husband behind her. Din grins as they disappear from view. He knew exactly what business they had to conduct. He'd conducted the same business with his girlfriend earlier in the day, twice, in the hopes that an urgent business matter wouldn't pop up as he lay pressed into her sleeping form that night with the boys in the other room. Din thought it a very wise decision that the Lords be on the other side of the motel right now. Having heard their business dealings in the past.

When the door to their room closed behind them Maxwell starts pulling off the Santa outfit.

“Max? Could you…?” For the first time in their relationship Maxwell saw his wife look timid.

It took a moment for him to work it out. “Oh! You want me to keep it on?” His surprised tone made Mrs Lord want the ground to swallow her up.

“Would it be too weird? I don't know why you just look…sexy.” Mrs Lord was talking exclusively to her feet now.

Maxwell doesn't answer at first, his fingers are busy doing up a button and fixing his long white beard back in place. When he does it's with the same deep voiced generic American accent from before. “You have been such a good girl this year you deserve a treat. Why don't you sit on my lap and tell me what you would like?”

‘Santa’ sits on the edge of the bed with his legs spread wide. His semi hard cock was already bulging against the red fabric. A white gloved hand patting his firm thigh invitation. Mrs Lord goes to delicately sit on his leg only for him to stop her.

“Not like that, my dear.” Thin cotton strokes the back on her thighs as he encourages her to straddle his thigh. As soon as she sits down he can feel her wetness through the velvet suit.

“There that's better. Now tell Santa what you want.” His large hands guide her hips to start grinding against him.

“Fuck. I wanna come.” Mrs Lord grits out.

Santa tuts at her. “Now, now. No bad language. I don't want to put you on the naughty list. What do you want for Christmas?” His hands grip her harder, dragging her back and forth over his muscular thigh.

“I want….nothing. For once I have it all.” her breathing is picking up as the crushed velvet bunched against her clit through her thin, soaked panties and leggings.

“Really?” Santa smirks clenching his thigh and moving her faster.

“Really. I've always been well off materially. Now I have the love of my life too. What more could I want? Oh, shit. I'm coming.” her fingers dig into the plush fabric of his lapel as she rides out her release.

“What did I say about the bad language? I'm afraid you are on the naughty list.” A gloved hand threads into her hair pulling deliciously at the roots. Using it as leverage he forces her down to her knees.

“I'm sorry, Santa. Can I do something to get back on the nice list?” The fluttering of her eyelashes from between his legs makes Santa’s cock full hard.

“You can be a good girl and help Santa empty his sack.” the hand that isn't in her hair works at pulling out his length.

As soon as it's free, Mrs Lord sucks it like a candy cane, causing Santa to tug on her hair sharply. “Slowly. Santa wants to enjoy this.”

The second his wife's eager mouth engulfed him Maxwell had to think of the worst things he could think of to keep from spilling his sack early. As she slowly takes him, pushing the tight O of his lips down to the base he makes a note to keep the Santa suit in his closet, after he has her cum dry cleaned from the pants.

“Such a good girl. I think you can be back on the nice list. You can even have an early present. You say you couldn't want anything else but I think you do. I think you want the greedy little hole filling. You want Santa to warm your walls with his cum.”

A hum from his wife vibrates right down to his balls and brings Maxwell right to the edge. “Stop. Santa wants to blow his load in that tight cunt.”

Ignoring him, she suckes hard, hollowing her cheeks completely and is rewarded by the salty sweet tang of his cum on her tongue. Santa shudders through his orgasm. A breathy whine leaves him then he is silent for a moment as he catches his breath. When he does, he drags Mrs Lord up by her hair and forces her face down on the bed. “Naughty girl. Now you have to earn your place on the nice list again.”

One large hand keeps her pinned as the other strips away her leggings. Her ass cheeks are exposed to him in her thong. Her flesh stings as Santa delivers a hard slap to the plump flesh of her cheek. The pain shoots to her clit, engorging it further.

“Oh, Santa!” She screams.

Seeing his wife completely lost in the fantasy gets Maxwell half hard in record time. A couple more spanks have him almost all the way there. He loves how much his wife now trusts him to fully let go of her control. It has awoke something inside of him that he never knew was there.

“You know what. I don't think I will put you back on the nice list. I think you will stay on Santa's naughty list and every year I will visit you. I will take out the stress of the night on your body. I will pour it all into your wet pussy.” As he finishes he notches the cum soaked head of his cock at her entrance. He moans deeply as every inch is welcomed by her body. “Touch yourself. Make yourself come on my cock. Soak me while I used your hole for my pleasure, you little fucking slut.”

It's not long before she comes around him. A combination of Santa's words and fat cock, along with her knowing her own body. Santa actually loses count of how many times she comes as he concentrates on filling her as deeply as possible, on having every inch of his cock feel her pussy's kiss. At one point he barely pulls out, just stuffs himself in further and further, harder and faster. His wife's free hand claws the bed as she practically sings ‘oh, god’ like a Christmas carol.

As he nears his peak he finally snaps out of his pussy drunk haze to find that his wife is practically curled up into a ball, shoved right up against the headboard while he had one leg on the floor and one spread across the bed. His hips move impossibly fast as he slams into her. The vulgar sound of his cock filling her sopping channel fills the air along with their moans. “Oh, shit. Oh, fuck. Fuck, Baby. I'm gonna come. Fuck. Do you want it? You want my come in your pussy?”

“Fuck, yes. Max!” She gasps.

“What's my name?” Max grits out. “I wanna hear you scream it, you filthy bitch.”

“Santa. I want you to shoot your cum into my greedy hole, Santa. I want to feel it drip out. Come on, Santa, you always have so much for me.” Her own dirty talk pushes her over the edge one more time. She clamps down so hard on Santa's cock that he has no other choice but to fill her. He works himself through it milking as much cum as his can out to plough it deeper into her. He doesn't stop until his cock is completely soft. Once his soft cock slips out of her, she is on him, licking it clean.

Santa puts her on her back to return the favour. Licking up every bit of their cum that has escaped onto her folds before plunging his tongue inside. A ripple of aftershocks runs through her before she pushes him away.

“Merry Christmas, Santa!” Mrs Lord laughs.

Maxwell joins in with her laughter. “If it always ends like that we can have Christmas every month. I'll buy a whole wardrobe of Santa outfits.”

Mrs Lord suddenly stops laughing and Maxwell worries he's said something wrong.

“Was it super weird..that I…you know…got turned on by Santa?”

Maxwell finally pulls off his bread to kiss his wife's forehead. “We all have something that is a little embarrassing.”

“Oh, yeah? So you have some kinky fantasy about an innocent childhood favourite?”

It was Maxwell's turn to look timid. “Oh, you do! I'm sorry I didn't mean…”

“No. It's okay. I told you it was fine so I don't mind.” Maxwell takes a deep breath and releases it. “Tinkerbell.”

“Tinkerbell? From Peter Pan?”

“Her thighs and hips are so full and that tiny little skirt. Plus she's very head strong. I like that in a woman.” Maxwell's hand that was absently stroking her back gave her arm a pointed squeeze.

Mrs Lord turned her head to beam up at him. “Well, thank you for sharing. Maybe Tinkerbell and Santa can team up and make a little magic sometime?”

“Hmm. I like that.” Maxwell practically growled before kissing her deeply.

“Wait. Does this mean I have to keep an eye on you at Disneyland?” Maxwell answered her question by playfully swatting her ass.

The two of them dissolved into giggles.

The Lord's laughter floated up to the second floor where another set of lovers were wrapped in each other's arms.

“They are pretty cute together. Huh? They have something special.” Dieter comments.

“They are not the only ones. They are just more open about it.” Oberyn stares at the curls forming at the nape of Dieter's sweat soaked neck intently waiting for his response.

Dieter knows his paramour all too well. He can feel those intense brown eyes willing him to see him how he sees him. Not how he thinks the world does. Some drugged up, washed up actor. A loser.

“Don't.” Oberyn can practically hear the negative thoughts in Dieter's tousled head. “Don't go there. Stay with me.” Dieter shudders as Oberyn kisses that spot on his neck.

Everyone in the motel knew that there was something between the two of them. None of them knew the depth of it. None of them knew for the first time in either man's life that they actually felt like they knew what true love was. Neither of them had been looking for it the night they stumped back to Oberyn's room. Dieter just wanted to suck the hot Dom's cock. Oberyn just wanted to use those pretty lips while he held onto that soft hair. After that they met up regularly and the sex was electric. If a client didn't scratch their itch completely they'd seek each other out and fuck until they were spent. Then came the pillow talk. Both of them lowered their defences and would talk about anything and everything until the early hours. Slowly they became more to each other. It all went unspoken until Dieter suggested a new position. When Oberyn had an earth shattering orgasm with his face hovering over Dieter's he couldn't help the words that came out. “I love you.”

When Dieter froze like a deer in headlights, Oberyn moved to pull out and nurse his broken heart.

He stopped when Dieter grabbed his hand. “Ryn...” his voice failed him, choked back with all the emotion. “...I…I love you, too.”

From then on they were even more inseparable.

“I know what you think but I promise you no one else thinks that.” Oberyn pulled Dieter tighter into his arms as if he could squeeze the truth into him.

“No one else knows that you are a prince.” Dieter huffed.

“Mi rey, I am the illegitimate bastard child of a disgraced member of the Royal family. Hardly a prince.” Oberyn scoffs, continuing his trail of kisses down his lover's back.

“Technically you are.” Dieter pouts knowing he is losing the argument and with Oberyn's attention on him, the will to even argue.

“Mi rey, they already know we are together. They are happy for us. I would just like to hold your hand at dinner tomorrow like the Lords will be. Is that too much to ask?” While he spoke Oberyn gently turned Dieter in his arms. His full lips were now making a path across Dieter's chest.

Oberyn taking an eager nipple in his mouth and sucking is all it takes to get the answers he desires. “Fuck. Okay. Fine. You win, Ryn. We'll hold hands. Now just fuck me please!”

Oberyn's well groomed moustache twitches as he hides a smirk. “With pleasure, my love.”

The Lords stare up at the ceiling that may actually be in danger of caving in from the way the light fixture is shaking above their heads. Deep guttural groans fill the air as the bed slams into the wall and the bed springs squeak.

“I can't believe they really think we don't know about them.” Mrs Lord laughs.

“There is a big difference between sex and love, Mi Amor.”

“That's true but the sex is even better with a connection. That's why we were always so good together. I swear I knew I was going to love you before I did.”

Din thinks to himself. ‘The best laid plans…’ With the boys asleep and the door between their rooms firmly shut. He found his cock buried inside his girlfriend, his large hand suppressing her moans as he whispers in her ear. “Keep quiet for me, Baby.”, “That's it, just take it nice and slow.”, “Can you come for me like this? Or do you need my fingers?”

Turns out she did need his fingers but only to suck on to keep her quiet as she came around him. Din whimpered as he pulled out to finish himself off. He needed it hard and fast to finish and he couldn't guarantee that the bed wouldn't make a noise if he fucked her like he needed.

“Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.” He breathes against his fist he gets closer. His girlfriend covering the tip with her warm, pretty mouth is the last straw as he gives her the cum she's waiting for, his teeth firmly in his fist to hold back his ecstatic groans.

After the adults all thoroughly enjoy Christmas eve, it's time for the kids to enjoy Christmas morning. The presents that Din snuck in in the night sat under the tree signalling that Santa had been. The boys ran to wake up their respective grown ups with eager chants of ‘It's Christmas!”

Four tired but happy adults filed into the room to watch their boys open their gifts. They were so appreciative of each one and complemented each other on their cool gifts.

“We are very lucky men indeed.” Maxwell nudges Din with his shoulder as they watch on.

Din, who feels like he's finally found everything that he'd been searching for just nods in agreement, not trusting his voice in the moment.

Dinner time rolls around and everyone starts arriving at the reception hall. The new maitre d’,Paul, is there to welcome and seat them. The round table had all been pushed into a circle for everyone to sit around the outside. Each table was festively decorated with sparkling silver and white decorations. Lights hung from the ceiling rippled in various patterns.

Jack and his girlfriend arrive first, with the news that Jack has asked her to move into his ranch home with him. Silva and his husband Jake are next. There are a few questioning looks as they arrive as Jake hadn't visited the motel before.

Silva formally introduces everyone before Jake steps forward to address the Lords. “Thank you so much. Without this job Silva and I would have lost our home.” When they look puzzled he continues “I was injured at work a while back. My insurance did cover all of the medical bills plus Silva had to take some time off work to nurse me back to health. Without the generous pay from here, I don't know where we would be. Thank you.”

Maxwell takes Jake's outstretched hand. “You are most welcome. I'm glad we could help you both.”

The handshake moves to a shoulder slapping hug before Paul seats them.

Moreno and Pike arrive together. Moreno is followed by an excited tween. Her head full of curls bounces with each skip she takes closer. She is introduced as Missy with a proud smile on his father's face. Pike is next to introduce his companion. The Lords know he is nervous about bringing her here. Pike doesn't have the best track record when it comes to women. He swears this one is different, he can feel it. The Lords make sure to be extra welcoming to his guest. They see a relieved Pike relax into his chair when he clearly happy date sits and chats to more of the guests. (If only Marcus knew that he'd be telling their twelve grandchildren that story one day after decades of blissful married life.)

Even though they are the ones that lived closest, Dieter and Oberyn arrived last. Even after Joel who didn't have the best time keeping. They walked in, hand in hand and took their seats with the others all exchanged amused glances.

Santos outdoes himself with the festive feast he puts on. The smell alone could keep you fed. Rich gravies, aromatic meat and seasoned veg make everyone's mouth water as they are set out on the long table for everyone to help themselves. After everyone is thoroughly satisfied, in a different way than usual at the motel, the atmosphere is relaxed and happy. People chat in groups and pairs. Laughter fills the air from adults and children alike. Couples, new and more established, hold hands and cuddle into each other. Families, both by blood and found, embraced and celebrated. Love filled the space.

The motel was created to fulfil the wishes of those that visited. It was only fitting that it also fulfilled the ones of those who found a home there. By the end of the night, much to Mrs Lord's delight, Santa made another appearance. After over indulging in a little too much Christmas spirit he was helped to his room by Joel and Din. As he was carried out of sight he exclaimed “Merry Christmas to all and to all a good night!”

#pedro pascal character fanfiction #maxwell lord #maxwell lord x ofc #dieter bravo #oberyn martell

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