#the last time i drew her i really fell short + i was still using paint tool sai 😭 + i did a weird angle that i had to trace over a ref for

[srcepiksla]

bulletproof cupid, shes like an oc to me

[merlincmgirl]

Threesome - Wrecker x FReader x Crosshair - NSFW

Summary: Wrecker and Crosshair love to get you alone away from the rest of their brothers.

Characters: Wrecker, Crosshair, Hunter, Echo, Tech and Omega

Pairing: Wrecker x F!Reader x Crosshair (NO clonecest)

Word Count: 8,961

Warnings: oral (male & female receiving), riding, PinV sex, Anal Sex, vaginal & anal fingering, dirty talk, fluff and smut, s-word (said only once by Cross), nipple play, double penetration.

Author's Note: This took me so long to write, my writer's block just would not leave me. I hope you all like it, I'm definitely still writing for the others in Kinktober, I know I am very late. But after focusing on my health, it's left me with little time to write.

“It’s not fair, how come Wrecker and Crosshair gets to stay behind with you” Omega complained, hanging off the back of the flight chair, as you attempted to appear exhausted and in pain.

“Sorry, Omega, I guess they drew the short straw” you apologised, genuinely feeling sorry for the young girl. But it had been nearly 27 days since the last time you had gotten any kind of intimacy with your partners. You were going to do anything it takes at this point to get them alone.

“But Wrecker and I normally buy sweets for the way back to the ship” she pouted, sighing heavily as she rested her head on the seat.

“I know Omega, how about you bring him some back for when we’re ready to head off. I’m sure he’d love that” you suggested, squeezing her shoulder as you crouched down in front of her. Making sure that you were looking at her from her height, you took her smaller hand in yours and gave it a gentle squeeze. “I also have an important job for you as well, do you think you can do that, Omega?” you told her, watching as she stood up straight and looked at you eagerly.

“I can do that!” she assured, stepping closer to you.

“Thank you, sweetheart. I need to get some Kashyyyk nuts from the market. My mother used to give them to me as a snack when I wasn’t feeling well. Do you think you can get them for me?” you asked her, smiling at the way her eyes widened in surprise. You didn’t really talk much about your family, and she had never had a typical family, so she was always eager to know more about you.

“Of course! I’ll find them for you, I promise. I’m going to tell Hunter about my mission!” Omega swore, face going stern and determined before she raced off down the ramp to where Hunter and Wrecker was unloading crates from the ship. Hunter looked up at you, obviously catching your conversation, raised an eyebrow and shook his head, turning back to listen to what Omega was telling him.

“That was cruel, sending her out to get something that you know she’ll never be able to find on this planet. Kashyyyk doesn’t export here” a voice from the cockpit stated, and you turned to see Echo leaning against the door.

“Only a little, it’ll wear her out for you while you’re gathering supplies” you agreed, wincing at the lie that you had told the young girl. “Besides, if her brothers would let me, Wrecker, and Crosshair have some alone time together, then I wouldn’t have to resort to such desperate measures” you said pointedly, tapping his chest plate as he passed you to the ramp.

“You have plenty of alone time in the bunks, we can all hear you” Echo grimaced, remembering all the times he had woken up to the sounds of pleasure before he had stuffed his pillow over his head.

Flushing, you couldn’t help but admit he was right about that. “It’s not the same though. Besides, Hunter said it was fine that they stay here” you shrugged, remembering that conversation. It had been embarrassing for the both of you.

“Partly so that he doesn’t have to deal with Crosshair’s increasingly irritating behaviour” Tech grumbled, coming out the bunks with said trooper in tow. Tech was going through the inventory that they already had, creating a list of everything they needed to get.

However your eyes fell on his brother behind him, dressed in only his blacks, a toothpick rolling in his mouth. His eyes met yours and they softened, losing that annoyance that was present in them more and more as the days dragged on.

As soon as you were in reaching distance, he wrapped his arm around your waist and tugged you into him, burying his face into your hair. “Hey kitten” he greeted quietly, keeping you as close to him as possible.

“Hey Cross” you smiled, leaning into him and taking in his soothing scent. He must have freshly showered, the smell of his body wash and shampoo was extra strong today. No wonder Hunter was off the ship.

“Please do not engage in sexual intercourse on my desk or my bunk. There are a number of delicate projects that I do not want you breaking” Tech interrupted, looking between you two but focusing his scowl on Crosshair.

“It was worth it, you should have seen the way she-” Cross smirked, squeezing your hips and watching as both Echo and Tech looked disgusted at that.

“Cross!” you hissed, slamming a hand over his mouth before he could finish that sentence. They didn’t want to know, and you certainly didn’t want them knowing.

However, you were thankfully rescued from the mortifying situation.

“Alright, we’re ready to head out. Do you need anything else while we’re gone?” Hunter announced, coming up the ramp with Wrecker and Omega behind him.

“Nothing that you can provide” Crosshair sneered, his voice dripping with annoyance that they were still here. There was a lot of snickers from his brothers and Wrecker full out laughed at that. Noticing Omega’s confused look between everyone, you subtly shoved your elbow into his ribs.

“Why? What are you going to need when we’re gone? Are you really sick?” Omega questioned, turning her concerned and confused eyes onto you.

Pushing Cross away from you so you could comfort his sister, you shook your head and gave her a warm hug. “I’m okay, Omega, I promise. Nothing that a bit of bed rest and some snacks won’t fix. I’m just feeling a bit under the weather today, Cross and Wrecker was kind enough to keep me company and help” you assured, pulling away from her to see her acceptance of your words.

“Well, now that’s sorted, we’d best be going if we want to be back before dark” Echo decided, ushering Omega and Tech down the ramp and off the ship, a hand on Omega’s shoulder and scomp on Tech’s.

“Alright, keep your comms on. I mean it this time, we won’t call, and you better not call us unless you want to scar our baby sister. But just in case, keep them on” Hunter ordered the three remaining members of his squad, looking between you all.

“Will do! Have fun!” Wrecker called, pulling you into his arms and pressing a kiss to your temple. You couldn’t help but smile, leaning back into his wonderful embrace.

Hunter stopped just before the gangway, looking back with a narrowed eyed look. “And I want this ship thoroughly cleaned before we come back!” he demanded, voice stern and full of the Sergeant tone that he used while on the battlefield.

“Yes, Sarge!” you promised, hoping he would at least believe you. It was probably an awful smell to come back to. Your brothers fucking their girlfriend over the ship and not being able to air out the ship enough for it to go before take off.

Hunter’s lips twitched into a fond smile before giving you a lazy salute and headed off to catch up with the others.

“Finally!” Crosshair growled, hand clutching at the nape of your neck and bringing you in for a rough kiss. His lips pressed against yours, grazing his teeth along your bottom lip before licking it soothingly as he pulled away.

Giggling, you turned back to Wrecker, standing on your tip toes to kiss him as well.

Wrecker let out a chuckle, wrapping his arms around your waist and picking you up, closing the distance between you as you cupped his face, deepening the kiss now that you were the same height. “Feels so good to be holding you like this, mesh’la” Wrecker’s deep, soothing voice murmured. You could feel the vibrations echo form his chest to yours from how tight you were pressed against him.

“Me too! It’s been way too long since we’ve been able to do this” you agreed, pressing your lips to his once more. He ran a hand up your spine, following the contours of your body before threading his fingers through your hair and holding you in place as his lips explored yours.

“Never thought that after a kid our sex lives would dwindle so much” Crosshair grumbled, his dark eyes observing every move you and Wrecker made with each other.

Wrecker leaned forward and whacked him in the shoulder, sending the lithe clone jolting forward. “Cut it out! You love Omega just as much as the rest of us!” Wrecker objected, shaking his head at his brother.

“Maybe even more” you added, smirk playing on your lip. Crosshair was definitely the worse one when it came to looking after Omega, he was so protective and considerate of her. Cross had been right, he was certainly worse than Hunter. “But I can’t deny that it’s been a long time since we’ve managed to get alone time. Not that I’m complaining, that little girl is worth it” you grinned, as Wrecker put you back down on the floor.

Crosshair hummed, pulling you back into him so that his chest was pressed against your back. He refused to dignify that statement with an answer. It was well known that Crosshair worried about Omega more than Hunter did, loved her just as fiercely, but he wasn’t going to admit it out loud. Not even to his lover and brother.

Sighing softly at the feel of his warmth seeping into your back, you leaned heavily against him, turning to nuzzle at his jaw. Smiling, you felt the sharp shooter relax, his arms wrapping around your waist as he pressed a kiss to your cheek. One hand slid up your loose top, his lithe fingers drawing small patterns on your stomach and hips. Grinning, you struggled not to move under his tickling touch, but you couldn’t help the small giggle that escaped you.

“You’re wearing too many clothes” his raspy voice caressed your ear and you rolled your eyes, sending a smile towards Wrecker at Crosshair’s words.

“Oh am I?” you drawled, spinning around in his arms to tug on his own shirt, “I’m wearing just as much as you.”

“She’s got you there, vod!” Wrecker agreed, hands landing on your shoulders and sliding down your back before trailing back up, beginning to massage your shoulders.

Letting out a sigh, you couldn’t help but appreciate Wrecker’s firm but relaxing touch. It had been a while since you had last had a massage and you could feel the tension bleed out of you. His thumb pressed against a particular large knot in your shoulder blade and you let out a groan, resting your head on Cross’ chest.

“Hmm, you’re so good at this Wrecker. Going to leave me in a puddle before we even start” you murmured, playing with the buttons of Cross’ shirt. You began to work them loose, exposing more of his skin to you. His body wasn’t as scarred at the others, due to the nature of his role on the squad as the sniper, but there was a particular one from a well aimed shot that always caught your attention. It was just below his left pec, a shot had glanced off his ribs luckily, but if it had been a few more inches to the right, it would have killed him. So you always laid a kiss to the scar, thanking the stars and whatever Gods or Goddesses out there that he had survived.

Crosshair grunted, cheeks heating at your attention to his scar, glad that you couldn’t see his face. It always sent warmth flooding through his body at your gentle kisses and sweet touches to the parts that many would find unattractive. He had asked you once why you did it, why you paid so much attention to the scars that littered both his and Wrecker’s body. He still remembers the sad look that had crossed your face, as you admitted that they were a reminder that they were here with you, that the universe had decided to save him and his brother for you. That night, none of you had gotten any sleep.

“We’re wasting time” Cross grumbled, pushing you away slightly so he could begin working on the clothes that kept your beautiful body away from their gazes.

“You’re in a hurry!” Wrecker teased, as his large hands landed on your waist and began to unbuckle your trousers, sliding them down your hips.

“Why am I the only one getting undressed here?!” you laughed, shimmying in Wrecker’s hands out of your trousers and kicking them away from you. Turning around, you raised an eyebrow at Wrecker and tugged on the top half of his civvie clothes. “Strip!” you ordered him, voice firm but playful.

“Yes ma’am” he saluted, hurrying to pull off his top.

You turned to Crosshair, already seeing him shrug off his shirt. Perfect, this was exactly what you wanted. Your two perfect lovers, displaying themselves for you after so long. Your lustful eyes ran over them, taking in the scars that dotted and speckled their tanned skins.

Wrecker was large, his size dwarfing you, but he always made you feel so safe. His large arms were thicker than your face, but they could pick you up and hold you close to him whenever you weren’t feeling too good or whenever you just wanted to be held by the loveable giant. His scar on the left side of his face ran down his neck and across his shoulders. It was something he was very mindful of, especially with the scar being so prominent on his face, but you loved it, reassuring him over and over that he was handsome, that you loved him and that he should be proud of how far he had come since the blast that had taken his eye and damaged his hearing. He was more than just his injury.

Crosshair was always a treat to watch as he revealed himself for you. His long, slender body was so wonderful to be pressed against. All the batch was different shapes and sizes, but Crosshair was beautiful. He had the grace and fluidity of a dancer, able to move quickly and efficiently without worrying if he was going to hit a shot. His broad shoulders and large arms weren’t as big as Wrecker’s – not many people could be – but they were just as wonderful to hold onto. They were so strong as well, capable of picking you up and hoisting you around. Carrying around his sniper gun and keeping still for hours at a time had done wonders for Cross’ body. And his eyes were so expressive, his face may be as blank as a sheet of flimsi but his eyes told everyone what he was really thinking. At least according to you, Crosshair protested that everyone else could read him so well. But they always observed you, took everything in and saved the information for later. It would have felt creepy if it wasn’t so nice to have his eyes on you.

“Like what you see?” rasped the man running through your mind.

Grinning, you reached for his hand, pulling him closer towards you. “I always like what I see when it comes to you” you assured, cupping his face and pressing a kiss to just below his eye where the tattoo stopped. Turning around, you reached up for Wrecker as well, who chuckled and relented, bending down to help you. Rewarding him, you kissed across the scars along his nose. “Both of you” you added, laying a kiss to the corner of his lips.

“So do we, mesh’la! Now come on, I want to taste you. Been thinking about it for so long!” Wrecker insisted, gripping you around your waist and flinging you onto the bed.

Giggling, you pushed yourself up, watching as he knelt on the bed, running his large, calloused hands up your legs until he gripped your thighs. Biting your lip, you gave him a nod of consent before he pushed your thighs open, spreading them wider than you would have so he could fit himself in between you. He sighed, running his nose up from your knee to your inner thigh, taking you in.

“Whose in a hurry now?” Crosshair snarked, leaning against the wall, watching the way you shivered slightly at the cool air of the marauder and the way Wrecker was touching you.

Wrecker frowned, sitting up slightly to return his brother’s barb but you quickly interrupted them. Running a hand over Wrecker’s head, you tugged him back down to his previous position. He got the memo and began laying kisses along your soft, delicate skin.

“If you can’t play nice, then we won’t play at all!” you warned the sharp shooter, reaching out to poke at his leg.

Cross snorted, climbing up onto the bed next to your head. “Keep telling yourself that, kitten” he drawled, curling a strand of your hair around his finger. He tugged it lightly before settling himself comfortably against the headboard.

From where he was sitting, you could see his cock give a twitch against his thigh as he was supporting a semi. Reaching out for him, you ran feather-light fingers up and down his shaft. Grinning, you watched as his cock gave another twitch and began hardening further.

However, what attention you were giving Crosshair soon stopped, as Wrecker pressed a kiss to your groin, his hot breath fanning over your sensitive core.

“Ready for me, mesh’la?” he asked, squeezing your knee with his large hand and angling your leg just right for him to have room to work.

“Yeah” you breathed, voice catching in your throat as Wrecker lowered his head to your apex and began pressing gentle kisses along your lower lips and folds, starting off soft first. It sent warmth curling through your body at the way he was showering you with love and affection. His left hand came up to massage and rub at your thigh, feeling the soft shiver that ran through you at his touch.

Wrecker finally stopped his gentle caresses and kisses to lick at your clit, the tip of his tongue flicking against the bud and causing you to gasp. Swirling his tongue under the hood of it, he began working his way down to your dampening folds and pushing through them, eager to get to your centre. His large hands kept rubbing and massaging your thighs, keeping them spread wide for him as he lapped at you.

“Fuck, Wreck!” you groaned, eyes sliding shut as you ran a hand over his head and down to the back of his neck, pressing him closer into you. He groaned against you, the vibrations shooting up to your clit and making it throb.

“That’s it, got to get you nice and wet for me. Won’t be able to take me otherwise” he murmured, pressing his tongue inside of you and squeezing your legs at the taste of you exploding on his tongue. “Hmm, Crosshair, you got to try this!” Wrecker insisted, lapping at your cunt while he threw your legs over his broad shoulders.

“Maybe later, I’d rather try her mouth” Crosshair hummed, his hand cupping your cheek and turning you to face him. He looked down into your wide, lust filled eyes and had to bite back a groan of his own. He really wanted you looking like that at him with your lips stretched around his cock.

Nuzzling into his hand, you caught his thump in between your lips, sliding them up and down his finger while making sure to maintain eye contact with him. You could already see how hot and frustrated he was getting, no doubt he wanted to feel you around him. Moaning around him, you flicked and curled your tongue around his thumb, giving him a demonstration of what awaited him.

“Eager, aren’t we, kitten?” he purred, pulling his thumb out of your mouth and smearing your saliva across your bottom lip. “Gonna take me in this pretty mouth?” he asked, pulling down your lip.

“Oh, please!” you gasped, as you felt Wrecker’s tongue curl around the rim of your opening. “Fuck!” you cursed, digging your heels into Wrecker’s back as he sucked one of your folds into his mouth.

Crosshair chuckled, grabbing a few pillows off Hunter’s bed and propping them up behind you so that your head was lifted. He straddled your upper body, pumping his cock a few times.

His cock was so close to you, you could feel the warmth of the sniper pressing against you, his knuckles grazing your lips as his hand worked the length of his cock. But you wanted to taste him, wanted to feel the weight of him in your mouth against your tongue. Opening your mouth and sticking out your tongue for him, you looked up at him, waiting for his next move.

“Kriff! You look so fucking hot like that” Cross hissed, pushing his length into your mouth. He couldn’t help but let out a small gasp as your tongue flicked over the head, collecting the drops of pre-cum that had started to leak out.

Moaning, you closed your eyes and sunk deeper onto his cock, making sure you hollowed your cheeks out to provide suction for him. Crosshair was of average girth but he was slightly longer than average, and you enjoyed the weight of his cock in your mouth as he began to pull out slowly so you could take a breath.

“That’s it! You’re taking me so well. You were made to suck my cock” Crosshair praised, hand reaching behind him to grip and squeeze at your breast. His long dexterous fingers played with your nipple, brushing over them gently before giving them a sharp tweak. The sound that was muffled by his cock had more blood rushing downwards.

Forcing your eyes open, you ran your hands up and down his powerful thighs, bobbing your head against him while his other hand tangled into your hair. You couldn’t help the cry that you let out as Wrecker began to suck at your clit, giving it lazy luxurious sucks before flicking his tongue across the nub quickly so that your hips bucked up into his mouth. God it felt amazing to have them both against you. Crosshair fucking into your mouth and Wrecker eating you out. It had been too long since you were able to experience just how good they could take you apart and put you back together again.

Holding your head, Crosshair began thrusting into your warm, wet mouth. He kept an beskar-clad control on himself as he felt his cock ache at how good it felt to be surrounded by you. Pinching the nipple in his hand, he let out a loud growl at the way it felt around his cock. Maker, just the thought of you taking him down your throat while his brother had you squirming and writhing on his mouth would tide him over until the next time you could all play.

The pleasure that these two were wringing from you were almost too much. Crosshair was filling your mouth, turning all thoughts to mush as he guided you along his cock, at the pace that he wanted for you. All you had to do was take him. It didn’t help that Wrecker was also distracting you, wrapping his wonderful lips around your clit and brushing his fingers against your opening. He didn’t push in, needing you to relax a little more before he opened you up properly for him. Heat raced through you, your body singing from everywhere they touched you and you couldn’t help but buck your hips into Wrecker while you took Cross further into your mouth.

You gagged a little, and he dragged you up by the hair. “Careful, kitten. I want this to be fun for all of us” he reminded, letting you take a few more breaths in before sliding his cock into your mouth once more.

Moans and cries of pleasures echoed around Crosshair’s cock as you felt your orgasm building and building from them both. Wrecker hummed against your little bundle of nerves, sending shock waves of ecstasy through you as you were shoved over the edge, no warning as Wrecker drank in your juices, moaning at the taste of your release on his tongue.

Crosshair pulled out, admiring the way your hair stuck to your forehead, the way you were panting and had such a relaxed and satisfied look spread over your face. Your body shook at the way your orgasm had washed over you, and he was careful to keep his touch light and reassuring as he ran soothing fingers up and down your arms.

Finally it became too much, and you nudged Wrecker with your feet, pushing him away from you. Taking deep lungfuls of breath, you couldn’t help but beam at them. It felt so good to finally have a release that wasn’t due to your own hand or a quickie under the blankets.

“You okay, mesh’la?” Wrecker checked in, pulling away from you and sitting on his knees. He shoved Crosshair to the side, earning a hiss of anger and a swift kick to the side in retaliation from his brother. But he didn’t seem to mind as he smiled down at you. You always looked gorgeous to him, but you were even more beautiful after having an orgasm because of him.

“I’m good, don’t think my legs work” you murmured, unable to help the giggle that escaped you at the smug and satisfied expression that spread across his face.

“Don’t worry, I’ll carry you wherever you want to go” the gentle giant promised, leaning forward to press a kiss to your sweet lips. He cupped your face in his hands, nuzzling your nose as you moaned at the taste of yourself on his lips and against his tongue. “Maybe Cross can even make you food and drinks!” Wrecker suggested, teasing his brother.

“Don’t even think about it, you’re spoiled enough!” Crosshair rolled his eyes, no real heat in his words.

Beaming, you ran your fingers up his thigh, tracing patterns along his skin, “you love spoiling me, admit it!”

Crosshair rolled his eyes, shaking his head but didn’t deny it. He did love spoiling you, you were his kitten, his princess. If he could, he’d do anything to make your day a little lighter, a littler easier to deal with. You hadn’t been brought up like the rest of his brothers and the regs, why should you have to suffer the hardships that they did. If he could spoil you and give you nice things that made you happy and comfortable then he would.

“Come on, roll her over or we’ll be giving our brothers a show” Crosshair reminded, climbing off the bed to go and reach for his box that stored all of his belongings.

Wrecker grabbed you around the waist, displaying his strength as he brought you into him before flipping you both around until he was on his back and you were plastered against his front. Grinning up at you, he ran his hands up and down your sides, leaning forward to nuzzle his nose with yours.

“Hey handsome” you breathed, enjoying the quiet oasis, just you and him and Crosshair finding your pleasure and touching each other. It was perfect.

“Hey mesh’la. I’m going to open you up for me now, okay? Need you to be nice and relaxed for me so I can get inside you” he smiled, hands sliding down your back until they reached your ass, giving them a good squeeze and tugging you up his chest slightly.

Your breath caught in your throat, just like it always did at the mere thought of Wrecker opening you up for his cock. Wrecker’s fingers were thicker than his brothers’ and capable of hurling you over the edge faster than you could think. But it was needed if you were going to take his cock, the stretch around him was always tight. Spreading your legs wider around his large frame, you gasped at the feel of your nipples brushing against his chest hair.

The bed dipped behind you, and you turned to see Crosshair holding the bottle of lube in his hand. Oh, they were going to take you together then. They must have planned this out before you had managed to grab some alone time away from the others.

Crosshair came and pressed a kiss to your shoulder, working the skin into his mouth and sucking a large bruise there. He worried the skin with his teeth, causing you to gasp before he licked over the mark soothingly. Pulling away, he littered soft, gentle kisses down your spine his hands running soothingly up and down your flanks.

Relaxing into their touches, you couldn’t help but sink into the sensations. They were always so loving to you, touch almost worshipping as they built you higher and higher until you couldn’t help but find release. You would have thought that they’d be more desperate, more demanding after the time you have had to be away from each other. But they seemed to be savouring every touch against your skin, every sound that they pulled out of you and the sight of you pressed between them.

Wrecker pulled you into a kiss, hand sliding in between your body to reach your centre. He could already feel the slick from your previous orgasm there and he eagerly collected it on his fingers, spreading it around to get you nice and wet for him. Nipping at your lip, he soothed the bite with his a slide of his tongue as he pressed one of his thick fingers inside of you.

Gasping against his mouth, you couldn’t help but feel yourself flutter around his finger. You took in a steadying breath, relaxing your muscles against him and mouthing at his chest, hoping to suck a bruise onto him to mark him as yours.

The sound of a bottle cap opening was heard behind you and you tensed up, expecting the cold drizzle of lube running down your ass. But instead, Crosshair squeezed your round globes before pressing a kiss to one of them. “Going to open you up back here for me as well, sweetheart. Think you can take both of us?” he asked, voice genuinely curious and holding no expectation. If you said no, that would be fine, they’d rework their plans.

But you wanted it so much, to be stuffed full by both of your lovers. To be able to feel them even after you had gone back to your normal routine. It had been a while since you took them both, but that didn’t mean you didn’t want to. Nodding, you pushed yourself up and twisted around to meet the sniper’s dark eyes and pulled him in for a kiss.

“Good girl, that’s it. All you’ve got to do is lie here and take what we give you” Wrecker grinned, helping you to lie back down on him. He finally began to move his finger inside of you, enjoying just how wet and hot you felt around him. He knew from experience just how amazing you’d feel around his cock.

As you sighed into Wrecker’s chest, relaxing into the gentle push in and out of your entrance, you tensed up at the feel of a lubed up finger swirling around your puckered hole. Cross swiped it around a couple of times before slowly pressing in.

“Oh!”

The sound was punched out of you at the feel of both of them pressing their explorative fingers inside of you. It felt so good. Nerves firing off and shooting pleasure through your body at their slow pace. You clung around them, muscles tensing at the intrusion as you got used to the sensation.

“Relax, or you won’t be able to take either of us” Crosshair instructed, resting a hand between your shoulder blades and pushing you further down into Wrecker’s chest.

A whine slipped out at the move, feeling pinned between them as they both began to move in tandem. Their pace matched each others, stretching you open on their fingers. As one pushed in, so did the other. Your breath was faltering at every thrust and it was all you could do to relax around them.

“That’s it mesh’la, stay nice and relaxed for us. Got to get you nice and ready for us” Wrecker encouraged, as your hips bucked down onto their hands. “Take a deep breath for me” Wrecker instructed, kissing your cheek.

You did as he said, taking in a deep lungful before it caught in your throat as both of them pushed another finger into you. The stretch from both holes had you moaning, eyes squeezing shut at the feel of them sliding in and out of you.

“Fuck! Wreck! Cross!” you cried, clenching down around them.

“Relax, kitten!” Cross growled, pinching your ass and spreading it open for him to see just how well you were taking his fingers. “Such a greedy girl!” he murmured, watching as your hole seemed to clutch and swallow his fingers with every press inside.

“Cross!” you whined, burying your face into Wrecker’s chest at the sniper’s words.

“Shh, that’s a good thing, mesh’la. Ya know you’re so pretty, right? Our pretty girl” the demolition expert praised, a chuckle rumbling through his chest at how you were hiding into him.

Even through the heat burning across your face, you nodded. Because he was right. You were theirs, and they were yours.

“Gonna have to make her cum again to take us. She’s so tight, keeps sucking us in like the greedy slut she is” Cross growled, nipping at your thigh and feeling the way you tightened around his fingers at that.

“Oh yeah! That sounds good to me!” Wrecker laughed, nodding at Crosshair. This time they slid three fingers inside of you, and you let out a cry as the way they both stretched you open, making sure that they were teasing you and getting you ready for them at the same time. Wrecker passed his thumb over your clit, beaming at the way you shivered around them. “Ohh, someone’s a little sensitive!” he boomed out, beginning to draw circles around your clit as he thrust his fingers sharply up into you.

Panting, you clutched onto his shoulders as the boys began to increase their pace, twisting and shoving inside of you without any rhythm. It left you wanting more and you couldn’t help but begin to buck into their hands, writhing against them as they curled their fingers, rubbing deliciously along your walls.

You could feel yourself getting wetter, the heat rising in you as the coil inside of you got tighter and tighter at every brush of Wrecker’s thumb against your clit and twist from Crosshair’s lithe fingers.

“That’s it mesh’la, ride our fingers. Look so good, taking us so well” Wrecker murmured in awe, his mouth coming to layer your jaw and cheeks with kisses.

With every rocking movement of your hips, you could feel your release getting closer and closer. And when Wrecker curled his fingers just right, rubbing that spot inside of you that had you seeing stars, you couldn’t help but fall over the edge. Your vision whited out as you shook around them, nails digging into whatever and whoever you could as you clutched onto them. Their names fell from your mouth in a loud cry as they continued to help you through the powerful orgasm that left you trembling.

“Hmm, good girl, that’s it. Doing so well for us, kitten” Cross’ raspy voice filled your ears as you were leant back into his chest. He withdrew his fingers from you, keeping his arms wrapped around you tightly so you wouldn’t fall back down onto Wrecker. He littered soft, open mouthed kisses along your neck, soothing you back into the land of the living after your release.

Sighing, you sunk back into the warm safety of his arms, letting your mind float at how incredible you felt. You felt boneless almost, and it was an effort to return some of Cross’ kisses as you clutched onto his forearms to keep you steady.

“Pass me the lube” Wrecker grunted, tapping Cross’ knee. As soon as the sniper passed it over, Wrecker was lubing up his cock, pumping it a few times before guiding his cock to your entrance. You were still pressing kisses to Crosshair’s jaw, nipping at the hinge before littering his faces with kisses. So when they both held you over Wrecker’s cock, you couldn’t help but moan, trying to push yourself down onto the incredible length.

“Ready, mesh’la?” he asked, hands coming to your waist and thumbs rubbing soothing circles into your hips.

“Yeah… yeah I want you” you breathed, and slowly lowered yourself down onto his cock. It was a bit of a stretch, but the way they had opened you up and the 2 orgasms had relaxed you enough so you could take him at a steady pace. When your hips met his, it was all you could do to muffle your whines, feeling so full.

Wrecker buried his head into your neck, quieting his own groans as he felt you clench around him. It was almost like you were strangling his cock. Breathing deep, he tried to take apart a proton torpedo in his mind to stop this from being over way too soon.

“Fuck! Oh fuck! Wrecker!” you cried, eyes squeezed shut as you got used to his size. Wrecker was a large man, a gentle giant, but his cock would put most men to shame. It was thicker and longer than any you had ever taken. And Crosshair normally fucked you open first to prepare you for taking Wrecker, but now, oh now you couldn’t help but feel him everywhere.

You looked down, surprised that you weren’t bulging from the way that he was pressing inside of you. You were stuffed full of him, even as he remained still. It felt like your body was just melding around him, your inner walls having no choice but to fit snugly around his hard length.

“Shh, good girl. Relax for me, need you to relax” Wrecker groaned, bringing you back down so he could press his lips against yours, swallowing your little whines and punched out noises.

It was a lot easier said than done, but you tried to force your muscles and body to relax against him, helped by the soothing strokes of Crosshair up and down your back and the way that you could feel Wrecker holding you to him.

“That’s it, mesh’la. Stay relaxed, sweetheart. Need to make sure Cross can fit” Wrecker reminded, hands stroking through your hair as he could feel your muscles fluttering around him as his cock pressed into all those good spots inside of you.

“’Kay, please move… want to feel you” you begged, biting your lip as you began to get restless atop of him.

“Thought you’d be able to feel him well enough, kitten” Cross smirked, watching the way his brother’s cock pulled out before sinking back into you. Your punched out little cry at the first thrust had his cock twitching and he had to press a hand to the base for a second to get himself back under control.

“So full! Feel him everywhere. Oh! Wrecker!” you cried, nodding your head in agreement to his smokey voice as you buried your head into Wrecker’s neck, panting as he pushed in slowly, making you feel every inch of his thick and delicious cock inside of your pussy. Every vein and bump could be felt as he entered you once more.

You were so distracted with Wrecker and how he filled you, stretching you out around his massive cock that you jolted a little when you felt the head of Crosshair’s cock nudge at your back entrance.

“Shh, kitten, relax for me” Crosshair murmured against your skin, pressing open mouth kisses along your back and shoulders as he felt you jump.

“’M okay” you mumbled, closing your eyes as you pressed back against him. However, two large hands kept your still, and you turned to pout at Wrecker beneath you.

“Sorry mesh’la, but you go at our pace. Don’t want you hurtin’ yourself!” Wrecker shook his head, sending you a small soft smile in apology. He knew how much you wanted to take Cross, but it was best if he was the one to guide his cock into your ass.

Chuckling at your whine of disapproval, Crosshair slowly pressed inside of you, mindful of how full you already were with Wrecker, and how long it had been since you had last done this together. He inched himself inside of you, paying close attention to your face and the small noises of pleasure you were letting out.

“Good girl.”

You didn’t know which one of them said it, but it made you grin at the praise. You would be their good girl, you’d take them both and let them fill you up. With every inch of Crosshair pushing into you, it felt like you were going to combust. Every nerve was firing off and you could barely breathe from the stimulation of both Wrecker and Crosshair inside of you. Your nails dug into Wrecker’s chest as you tried to take in a few deep breaths to gain some control over yourself.

When Cross was all the way inside, all three of you let out groans and grunts. Both troopers could feel the other inside, parted by a thin bit of tissue but it felt so good to be inside your wet, delicious heat. You, however, could only cling onto them as you tried to catch your breath. If you thought you felt full with just Wrecker pressed deep inside of you, adding Crosshair made you feel like you would burst. They filled you up so much it felt like there was barely enough room for you to breathe.

“Kriff, can feel how tight you are! Gotta relax sweetheart, here, lie down on me” Wrecker grunted, guiding you back down onto his chest. His large hands crept up to your head, cradling you against him.

The new position had you feeling them both from a different angle and it was all you could do to bury the noise you let out into Wrecker’s chest.

“Can we move now, kitten?” Crosshair breathed quietly into your ear, warm breath caressing you. His hands were sliding up and down your sides, soothing you into a more relaxed position. He wouldn’t move until you told him it was okay.

“Hmm, please!” you sighed, one hand sliding behind you to reach for Crosshair. Be it his hand, or his hip, or his leg, you didn’t care. You just wanted to hold him.

Crosshair seemed to understand what you wanted, as his hand threaded with yours and he held it against your hip, squeezing your fingers between his. Slowly and with great care, he pulled his cock out, watching as your hole clutched onto him, almost strangling him on the way out. Letting you take a breath in, he thrust back in with one smooth move.

You cried out, other hand coming up to clutch at Wrecker’s shoulder. It seemed to be the act that Wrecker was looking for because he began to move once more two. The pair of them started a steady and slow rhythm, getting you used to both of them being inside of you once more. They always kept you filled, when one pulled out, the other would thrust back in, making you keen and push back against them.

Wrecker’s warm hand came to cup your cheek, pulling your face up to meet his in an open mouthed kiss. It was messy and uncoordinated, your teeth clashing and lips sliding off one another but it didn’t matter. Just being pressed against him, breathing the same air was enough as your gentle giant panted against your lips.

“That’s it mesh’la, doing so well! Look how brilliant you are, taking us like this” Wrecker beamed, pulled away to nuzzle at your jaw. He grazed his teeth over the sensitive skin, bucking his hips up to you a little faster.

“Oh!” you gasped, biting your lip as you tilted your head back so he could litter your neck with more bruises and marks from him and Cross.

Not one to be left out, Crosshair began to match his brother’s pace, hips slamming into yours at a much more harder pace than when they first began. It had you shouting out their names, rocking your hips and pushing back as much as you could with how you were trapped in between them. You could only take what they were giving you.

Slender arms slid in between you before you were hauled up against Crosshair’s chest, hips pistoning into yours. The new angle of both of them had you crying out, eyes slamming shut as Wrecker thrust up into you, rubbing that spot deliciously on every buck of his hips. It also had the added benefit of Cross sinking deeper into you, short jabs resulting in you digging your nails into the soft skin on the back of his neck as you wrapped your hand around him.

“Kriff! Fucking hell!” you cursed, feeling the coil in your stomach tighten and tighten with each thrust into you. It felt amazing having them inside of you, like their cocks were carving out a space for themselves inside your fluttering channels. Nobody else could make you feel this good, nobody could even dream of it, not when you were so utterly in love with Wrecker and Crosshair.

“You close, mesh’la? Can feel you squeezing me” Wrecker grinned, hand sliding in between your bodies to gentle glide over your clit.

It had you gritting your teeth, legs twitching at the surge of pleasure the simple touch brought forth. Sparks flew from the little nub as Wrecker began to rub at it.

“Yeah she is! Kriff! Should feel how tight it is back here” Cross groaned, nipping at your ear as he slammed into you.

“Cross!” you whined, turning to press kisses along his jaw, his cheeks, wherever your lips could meet his skin.

“Think we should let her cum?” Wrecker chuckled, fingers picking up their pace as he circled your clit.

Crosshair hummed in deliberation, drawing it out just to tease you. He could feel just how close you were to cumming. Your ass was squeezing his cock like you refused to let it go, and no doubt the same was happening to your muscles as they fluttered around Wrecker. Sliding your sweat-slicked skin together, he bit softly onto your shoulder.

“I think we should” he hummed, hearing the moan of relief that you let out at them not teasing you and edging you this time. “Gonna scream for us, kitten?” he smirked, hand sliding up the valley of your chest and squeezing one of your breasts into his hands. He gave it a harsh squeeze, making you squeal and clench around the lengths slamming inside of you.

“Fuck! Yes, yes I will… just-just please let me cum!” you begged, hoping they wouldn’t draw this out. You were on the edge, you could feel just how wet and slick you were around Wrecker, feel the way you were rocking against Cross. It wouldn’t take much to throw you over the edge.

“You beg so sweetly, kitten, but I think you can do better than that” the sniper ordered, tweaking your nipple.

It was like fire shot through your body and you moaned, back arching and pressing your chest into his teasing hands. “Please, please! Need you both! Need you to make me cum, please. Want you to fill me up” you cried, clutching onto your troopers and hoping your words was enough. You were so close. They had to let you cum.

“I think that’s good enough!” Wrecker growled, dragging his cock along the spot inside of you that had you screaming out his name.

Your thighs quivered as you came around them both, release flooding through you as you shook as you fell over the edge. It was like liquid ecstasy was coursing through your brains as every nerve fired off at once.

“WRECK! CROSS!”

Crosshair growled at the way his name sounded falling from your lips. He couldn’t help but chase his own release now, giving you a few short jabs into your quivering hole before he flooded your ass with his cum. That had you letting out a little moan of pleasure as you felt warmth fill you.

Wrecker felt the fluttering of your walls around him, felt the way his cock was drenched with your release and couldn’t hold back no more. He gave another long, deep thrust before he stilled, shooting his load into your entrance and letting out a cry of your own name.

It was lucky he was so strong, because both you and Crosshair collapsed against him, all of them exhausted and boneless. He wrapped his arms around his lover and brother as much as he could, content to just stay there for a while before they would have to move.

When you had caught your breath, you pulled both of them into long, passionate kisses revelling in being able to feel the weight of them against you in post-orgasmic bliss.

“We are never waiting this long again” you insisted, grinning playfully at your troopers. You grimaced as Cross pulled his softening cock from you and Wrecker did the same, lifting you off him.

“Agreed, I’m willing to give the others a favour if they keep the kid away for an hour or two” Cross nodded, reaching for some wipes that he had left by the side in preparation for clean up. He helped guide you in between his and Wrecker’s body, taking in your body and the marks that was scattered on it by him and his brother.

“Well, I for one love having Omega around” Wrecker frowned, and you couldn’t help but rush to reassure him.

“We do too love, but I’m also glad when your brothers take her for a bit. That way we can be together. But I’m sure she’ll be home soon. So we need to be cleaning up this ship” you assured before encouraging them up. As Crosshair finished cleaning you up though, you couldn’t help but lean forward and give him a kiss. “Thank you sweetheart, now lets get going!” you ordered, stroking his cheek.

“ARGH! Do we have to?” Wrecker grumbled, grabbing a couple of wipes to clean himself up.

“Yes, unless you want to explain to Omega why our clothes are scattered everywhere and Hunter looks like he’s ready to faint every time we walk past him?” you said sweetly, amused at the thought of Hunter’s face when he came back. But it wasn’t fair on the Sergeant and the rest of his brothers. So you would do all that you could to minimise the smell when Hunter got back.

“Good point! Come on Wrecker! Get moving!” Crosshair snapped, flinging a shirt at his brother’s head.

Shaking your head at the bickering that move started, you headed to the ramp, pressing the button to open it and air out the ship. It was a start, and you quickly got to work cleaning the ship with your lovers.

By the time the others had gotten back, you were all freshly showered and dressed, the sheets had been laundered and you were currently reading a book on Wrecker’s bunk. You were leaning against the demolition expert’s chest while Cross was resting his head on your thigh, taking a nap.

“Hey! How was it? Did you get everything?” you greeted, running your fingers through Cross’ grey hair to wake him up slowly so he wouldn’t be disturbed by the others coming back.

Omega ran up to you, holding out a couple of boxes. She passed one to Wrecker before passing another one to you. Beaming, she stood by the side of the bunk, waiting for your reactions. You opened your gift and blinked in surprise.

“Kashyyyk nuts? You got them?” you breathed, surprised at how she had been able to manage to do that. It shouldn’t have been possible to get them on this planet.

“Yeah, Echo said that I might not be able to get them at the market, but Tech showed me which ones were from Kashyyyk! Apparently they had never imported them before and this was their first time! Can you believe it?” Omega explained, accepting one from the box as you offered her one.

Wrecker chuckled behind you, chest shaking beneath your back. Cross snorted, rubbing his face into your thigh for a moment before he pushed himself up to look over at you, smirk in place.

“No, I can’t believe it. Thank you Omega, you’re a wonder” you smiled, bringing the girl into your arms and giving her a grateful hug.

“Yeah! Our girl’s full of surprises!” Echo remarked, ruffling the younger clones hair as he passed.

“So is ours” Cross murmured lowly for Wrecker and I to hear. He pecked your cheek before getting off the bunk to go help the others.

“So, tell us all about the market?” Wrecker requested, squeezing both of his favourite girls into his loving arms. He shared a smile with you as you both began to listen to Omega’s retelling of the supply run.

[ohtobeleah]

Arrival // Robert Floyd

Summary: Your early morning pregnancy cravings turn into more then what you bargained for when you go into labour.

Word Count: 4.7k

Warnings: Pregnancy. Birth. Robert Floyd x F!reader. Mickey Garcia x Platonic! F!reader. Inaccurate depiction of birth. Fluff!

Author Note: Hi! Happy Saturday folks! Yes, I’m painfully aware this isn’t what you wanted this weekend. However, it’s what you’re getting. So sit back, relax, and enjoy for once something fluffy as fuck.

It wasn’t all that often that you got a good night's rest this late into your pregnancy. Every night was the same as the last, up and down, side to side, kick here and a pain there. You woke with a hiss as  the feeling of what felt like the left side of the rib-cage breaking in half. Your hand imminently came up to caress your stomach, thirty seven weeks along, with no sign of labour in sight. 

“Shh—go back to sleep, little one.” You whined as you slowly circled your hand over your swollen belly. As the kicking persisted the realisation set in that you wouldn’t be getting any sleep anytime soon. “Without fail hey?” It was almost a nightly ritual at this point. You’d toss and turn for a few short hours before you’d accept your fate. 

As you sat up carefully and ever so slowly so as to not wake your boyfriend, you checked the time on your phone. You were, at the very least— unimpressed at the time staring back at you, 2:30am. A slight moan left your mouth as you rolled over to see the love of your life, Robert Floyd, sleeping soundly next to you. A soft but all consuming smile crept across your face at the sight of him. He was just unapologetically Bob. His soft nature and caring personality was what drew you to him in the first place, and now, in the early hours of the morning, you fell just a little more in love with him with every soft snore that escaped past his slightly parted lips. The love you had for your partner Bob radiated through you like the strongest drug of all. It was so powerful and so consuming that your little bundle of joy that was due earth side any day now felt that love and got a little too excited. A hard kick planted itself into your side. 

“Yeah bubba, I know.” You tried to contain the small gasp of pain that threatened to echo out into the quiet of the night as you rubbed your stomach in a sweet soothing motion. “Daddy’s still sleeping, I wish I was too.” You swore if you could see your baby girl right now, she’d be poking her tiny tongue out at you. Every bit the cheeky girl her dad used to be when he was a little boy. 

“Ow!” You winced, your little bundle of joy really enjoyed using you as her personal punching bag. “Bub, please stop yeah? It’s not funny anymore, well it never was to begin with, but yeah just cut it out okay?” You spoke to your expected daughter a lot, you’d read somewhere that while in the womb expected children can hear voices and recognise important people like mum and dad. a”let’s go get something to eat before daddy wakes up.” You spoke softly to yourself under your breath as you waddled your way into the kitchen. 

At the beginning of your pregnancy, Bob had begun  stockpiling the fridge and pantry with weird and wonderful food so you would never go without. You bit your lip as you looked through the plentiful pantry, your eyes fell on the fresh container of peanut butter. Placing it on the counter you opened the fridge, your mouth instantly salivated at the sight of the pickle jar. Specifically dill pickles, specifically the kind Bob's grandma made. There was nothing better than a crisp home-brined pickle and your little girl couldn't agree more as you used the small, strategically placed stepping stool to help yourself up onto the kitchen bench. It wasn’t long at all before you had the lid of the peanut butter off and were dipping the pickles straight into the peanut butter. 

Your little girl kicking at your stomach as if to say she was happy with your late-night or rather early morning decision.

“I know, good right?” You giggled to yourself as you dipped another pickle into the peanut butter. It wasn’t long at all before you heard heavy footsteps pattering down the hall from your bedroom. “Opp, it’s the fed's baby girl.” You teased loud enough so that Bob could hear. “Hide the evidence.” A gentle hand landed on your shoulder, massaging the tense muscle softly as you leaned into your boyfriend’s touch. 

“What unholy thing are you snacking on this early in the morning baby?” You heard the early morning grumble in a sleepy Robert Floyd’s voice as he wiped his hand over his eyes. 

“Hey, don’t knock it till you try it, besides—“ you took another bite of the peanut covered pickle. “Your daughter was the one craving it, not me.” Everything you had eaten in the past month had been at the decision of your unborn child. She was picky and very weird. The amount of watermelon you had consumed had to have been a world record and you couldn’t stand the smell of any kind of cooked meat right now. It was later in your pregnancy that your cravings and food aversions really started to hit and hit hard. 

Bob moved himself between your legs as they dangled over the edge of the counter-top to rest his hands on your hips. 

“Why do you insist on making your mama eat weird food combinations baby? And not to mention she doesn’t like to be woken up at all hours of the morning. She needs her beauty sleep angel, well not that she isn’t beautiful, but you get the point.” Bob babbled as he leaned down to place a gentle kiss on your belly. She kicked in response to hearing her daddy's voice. “You know—” Bob smirked as he came back up to leave a kiss on your lips, trailing tender kissing down the left side of your neck. “You look awfully sexy while you’re pregnant, not that you weren’t sexy before, but you have this glow about you that I can't resist.” Bob continued his assault on your neck. 

A soft moan left your mouth as your lips parted at the feeling of Bob’s warm lips against your neck. He ran his hands up your oversized shirt which was coincidentally, his, and placed them atop your baby bump. 

“I can’t wait to meet our beautiful girl, she’s going to be just as perfect as you, I know it.” 

“Mmm, I’m not perfect Bob.” You tried to argue as you bit into the next pickle. Bob chuckled at the sight of you obnoxiously chewing, purposefully exaggerating your facial expressions. It didn’t take him long at all to cave in to the curiosity.

“Okay let me try—“ Bob gestured to the pickle in your hand. “C’mon, give me a bite.” You dipped it into the peanut butter once more and placed it in his awaiting mouth. Bob's face contorted into something of disgust as you chuckled softly. He ran to the sink to spit the pickle out. “Oh god, that’s definitely a flavour combination I’m not keen to try again.” Spitting into the sink, Bob washed his mouth out with the running tap. 

You couldn’t control your laughter, tears had begun to form in your eyes. “Oh? you think that's funny, huh? We’ll see who’s laughing in a second.” Bob teased as he sauntered back over to you and started his assault on your body. His fingers moved all over your body sending shivers and Goosebumps all over. 

“Robert! Stop it, stop B-Bob!” You laughed out loud through gasps and giggles as he continued tickling you. In the early hours of the morning Bob let out a boisterous laugh. He loved you. Oh so much. 

“Who's laughing now huh?” 

“Bob, I can’t breathe s-stop p-please—.” As you pleaded with your boyfriend, you felt as if you wet yourself, however, unlike all the other times you have due to your baby girl pressing inconveniently on your bladder, this time felt more intense. The feeling kept going until you saw water dripping down the bench.

“Bob! oh—oh my god, I think, I think my water just broke.” Bob's eyes imminently widened as he stared at you in fear. Like the last nine months hadn’t been building up to this very moment. 

“What? You aren’t due for another two weeks?” Worry was prominent in his tone. You could tell he was starting to panic, the thought of him having a life dependent on him starting to set in. You knew you needed to calm Bob before things progressed into something more severe, so you reached out to grab his face with both your hands and rubbed the pads of your thumbs against his cheeks. 

“Bob homey, listen to me.” Those ocean blue eyes were truly home to you. “My water just broke— so you need to take me to the hospital yeah? Fanboy and I put an emergency hospital bag together a few weeks ago in case I went into labor while we were out so it's in the back of the Jeep.” 

“Oh, okay, i-i'll go wake h-him up.” Bob and Fanbky had lived together off base since they first came back to North Island a few years ago. They’d been friends for as long as you’d known Bob for. “Holy shit—I can’t believe this is act-actually happening.” He stuttered as he lent into your hands, the feeling of you caressing his check comforted him. Of course, you’d go into labor and STILL have to take care of Bob, you were his rock, his entire world, you’d always be there to take care of the love of your life so nothing was different about this situation. 

Bob helped you down off the kitchen countertop as a sharp pain radiated throughout your lower abdomen. It took your breath away for a moment. You circled your hand over your stomach and took a deep breath in. 

“Ohh— little girl you just had to come tonight didn’t you?”

***~***~***~***~***~***~***~

“Mickey? could you maybe drive a little be faster, please?” The contractions had come quickly. Bob was sitting in the back with you, stressed as all hell, rubbing small circles against your lower back as you tried breathing through the pain as best you could. All Mickey did was smile at you through the rear-view mirror. 

“Y/n, even when you’re in labour you're still so nice.” Mickey grinned— he was so excited to meet his best friend's first child. His daughter. 

“How you feeling bub?” What kind of a stupid question that was, you thought to yourself. 

“Umm not good, I just want to get to the ho-hospital.” Tears now traveled down your face. “I’m scared baby, I don’t think I can’t do this.” Your contraction eased, you were thankful for the moment to breathe as you settled back against the backseat. 

“Baby, Y/n, listen to me yeah?” Bob held your face softly between his slightly calloused hands, the pads of his thumbs collecting your tears. “You are the strongest person I know, you carried our baby girl for nine months, nine months baby! You can do this and I'll be with you through the whole thing.”

“yeah! so will I!” Mickey tried to lighten the mood, he thought if he could make you laugh you’d feel a little better before yet another contraction washed over you. “Y/n please try not to have a baby on my new seats?” Fanboy joked as he tried to keep you smiling. You knew Mickey was joking the moment he said it. He was such a good support system. 

You let out such a loud moan that you were convinced the car next to you at the red light could hear you. 

“I’ll try not to Mick b-but I’m n-not going to p-promise you anythi-OH-MY, GOD! Bob, help me.” As you wailed you grabbed onto Bob's forearm and squeezed through your pain. It felt like a million more hours had passed you by before you were finally arriving at the emergency room waiting bay at the Miramar Base Hospital. 

“Baby, we’re here okay, as soon as Mickey pulls up i'll help you out.” Bob kissed your temple, sweaty and hot, as you leaned into him already exhausted from the last hour and a half since your water first broke. As Bob hopped out to help you, Mickey ran up to a nurse going inside the hospital. Probably coming back from taking a breath of fresh air. 

“Excuse me miss? My best friend's fiancée is in labour, she needs help.” You didn’t even register at first what he called you. You were just Bob's girlfriend, not his fiancée. You couldn’t help but scoff at yourself for thinking too much into what Fanboy had called you while you were literally about to give birth. 

“What’s so funny? Bob asked. “You okay babe?” Again, no. No you weren’t okay. But Bob was just doing his best to be the support you needed right now. 

“Nothing hun, just excited to meet our little girl who’s currently trying to tear me to shreds right now.” It wasn’t an exaggeration—you felt as if you were about to be split in two. 

But it was about to be so worth it. 

***~***~***~***~***~***~*

Three hours later: 

“AAHHHH, fucking hell can’t she come any faster!” you were in so much pain at this point. You were currently bent over the hospital bed leaning your head on the bars and moving your hips around in a circular motion. Bob was being nothing but supportive, feeding you ice chips every once and a while and rubbing your lower back. He hated seeing you in so much pain. Even if you were a  sweaty cracked out mess Robert Floyd still thought you were the most beautiful woman he’d ever seen. 

 “You're doing great baby, I know she’s being stubborn, but she’ll be here soon.” A nervous laugh left your mouth.

“Screw you, Floyd, she’s already just like her dad, stubborn and what feels like big headed!” Bob fed you another ice chip as he ran his finger over your bottom lip as you took it from his hand. 

“I’ll let that comment slide considering you're bringing our daughter into the world.” Bib moved your hair over your shoulder to gain access to your neck. His peppered gentle kisses along the side as your latest contraction subsided. Things were progressing smoothly, nothing seemed out of the ordinary. 

You were glistening with a layer of sweat from your contractions as your body prepared itself for birth. exhausted from the pain, you leaned into Bobs touch, his arms snake their way around your body to support your weight. 

“Come on bub lets get you in bed yeah?” Bob moved the covers back and you slid in slowly, almost scared that any movement you made could trigger your next contraction. As Bob was placing the thin blanket over your legs the nurse came in to check on your process. 

“You’re about eight centimetres dilated honey, we can start to push at ten so your very close.” You almost didn’t respond. You were far too tired to think as you rolled over onto your left side as another contraction washed over you. Bob noticed you struggling to breathe and placed the oxygen mask they nurse had previously set up for you on. 

Bob pushed your hair back and tied it up in a loose ponytail, he was just trying to make you as comfortable as possible. You looked at him. He was so perfect, you couldn’t imagine going through this amount of pain for anyone else. He was your biggest supporter, your best friend, your therapist. You were his soulmate, his biggest Stan, his number one girl. From the moment you met Robert Floyd you instantly gravitated to each other, a wonderful flirtatious friendship which bloomed into a beautiful relationship complete with all its perfect imperfections. 

He would stop by the small coffee shop on his way to work every morning and you’d be there, with his order ready to go and made to perfection. 

At this point, you were coming close to your three-year anniversary, your gift to Bob? Telling him you were pregnant. The poor guy almost had a heart attack but was ecstatic, to say the least. 

You caught yourself reminiscing and focused back on Bob “I love you so much.” You mumbled into the mask. He smiled back at you letting out a chuckle.

“You won’t be saying that in a few moments baby.” Bob was already prepared for the worst. You were always the nicest out of the two of you and that was saying something. You felt your whole body tighten at the feeling of what felt like the most painful contraction yet and that was it, you couldn’t hold in the cry that you let out. It was a guttural scream as you tried to breathe through it the best you could.

Bob’s face filled with heartache as he watched the women he loved unconditionally go through agonising pain, he’d give his life to ease your pain just the slightest bit, yet there was absolutely nothing he could do to help. And it killed him. 

“Babe, I’m going to get the nurse okay.” He started to move away but you pulled him back by his arm. “Honey—“

“Don't you dare leave me, Robert Floyd, I n-need you here now.” Your eyes filled with tears as the light layer of sweat turned into dripping beads. Just as Bob turned back to say he’d be right back you felt a sudden urge to push. 

“Bob, I need this baby out of me right now! I can’t do this anymore!!” Sobbing, you screamed out in pain just as the nurse ran in.

“Darling I heard you from the reception, do you feel like you need to push? She said as she sat down on the swivel stool and rolled herself in between your legs at the end of the bed. 

“YES! YES, I need this fucking thing out of me NOW!” You felt bad for Bob at this point. He was just standing there holding your hand as you endured the most amount of pain he’d ever seen someone go through. He must have pressed the call for help button moments prior as three other nurses ran into the room. 

“Okay Y/n on the count of three I want you to push for me, can you do that? Dad, I want you to count down from ten for me out loud okay? Y/n don’t stop pushing till he’s finished counting” you nodded your head. “Okay in three, two, one push Y/n push” Bob held onto your hand a little tighter as he began to count down from ten, you pushed as hard as you could.

 “7, 6, 5….” 

“BOB COUNT FASTER!” Screaming at the top of your lungs, you continued to push, gripping his hand as tight as you could in the process. 

One—alright Y/n stop pushing, have a break, you did so well darling.” The nurse said as she inspected exactly how far along your baby was. You fell back onto the pillow, just to look up at Bob. 

“Make. It. stop.” Your breathing weighed heavily on your chest. Bob looked at you with wide eyes. He felt helpless. 

“I wish I could baby I’m so sorry, you're doing so well yeah? Just a few more pushes and she’ll be with us forever.” You had to push again, this time wasn’t any easier, but you knew that every second you pushed as hard as you could you would meet your baby girl quicker. That this would be over. That the pain in this moment would be worth it. That the last nine months were entirely worth it. 

“I hate you, I hate so much, you did this to me.” You looked at Bob, the love of your life, almost ready to pass out. “You are never coming anywhere near me again after this.” Bob couldn’t have looked more upset. He knew you were in agony though. He knew you were just going through it. 

“Don’t worry daddy, she’ll still love you after this, probably even more.” The nurse between your legs chuckled. “I hear it all the time.” 

“The hell I will!!!” You interrupted the nurse making her and Bob both laugh. He was so in love with you. 

***~***~***~***~***~***~***~***

You were on your final push. 

“Okay Y/n final push and your baby girl will be here, are you ready?” Drenched in sweat, completely and utterly exhausted you mumbled up to Bob who had yet to let go of your hand the entire time. 

“Just get this thing out of me.” Pushing as hard as you could, a scream erupting from your throat and suddenly, the pain was just……gone. A small cry filled the room and your head hit the pillow, exhausted. A few moments passed and the nurse returned to place the newly wrapped bundle of joy onto your chest, yet to be cleaned of all the blood and gunk from inside you. But oh she was perfect just the way she was. 

“Oh, oh hi little one I’m your mama.” Tears of joy streamed from your eyes as you looked at your baby girl for the first time. She was perfect, everything you could have imagined and more. 

“She so tiny, hi baby girl, I’m your daddy.” Bob whispered as he gently touched his little girl's tiny head. “Baby, you did so well, I'm so proud of you.” He kissed your forehead in thankfulness. “Thank you so much for giving me the best gift of all, thank you for giving birth to the best little girl in the world.” Bob couldn’t control his tears as he planted another kiss on your forehead. “I love my girls so much.” 

“I don’t hate you, I could never hate you.” laughter escaped from both your mouths. “Here, you wanna hold her?” Bon nodded with a gentle smile that had crept across his face. You lifted your baby girl up towards Bob's strong awaiting arms, he held her so close, so gently. Your heart overflowed with happiness. He’d never let anything bad happen to her. Not to his little girl. 

***~***~***~***~***~***~***~***

Two hours later 

After receiving some stitches and getting cleaned up you were happily resting with your newborn on your chest getting precious skin to skin time. 

“Y/n are you sure you don’t want me to leave?” At this point it felt like the whole world had seen your vagina, so you didn’t really care if Fanboy had stuck around in the waiting room for updates. Now, he stood by the window, wondering if he was crossing some invisible boundary as you tried your hand at breastfeeding. 

“No Micky,  I really don’t care, trust me, I’m just happy this little one is here”. Bob had gone to get you three some food, naturally asking Mickey to watch over his girls while he was gone. He was busy giving the rest of the Daggers updates on how you and your newborn were travelling. 

“Hey Mick? When we arrived here this morning you said something to the nurse. It was probably an accident and I’m totally over-analyzing the situation, but you referred to me as Bob's Fiancée?” Fanboy spat the water he was drinking from one of those little plastic cups all over the room, completely shocked with the statement. Did he actually? In the whirlwind did he actually let that one slip? 

“I uhhh, i-I did? Huh, that’s so weird, I honestly didn’t even notice I did that.” At this point, after having known Mickey Garcia for well over three years, you could read him like the back of your hand, you knew he was lying. But just as you were about to answer back, your baby girl started to cry, wanting to be fed. 

“Here, ill leave, give you some privacy” Fanboy thought he was doing you a favour as he begun walking towards the door of your maternity room when you stopped him. You weren’t all that ready to be alone yet. What if something happened? 

“Please stay Mick? I really don’t want to be alone and plus Bib would kill you if you went against his wishes and left his girl alone.” The tiny baby latched straight onto your nipple no problem. She was just perfect. 

“Okay, but i'll face the window, I feel like a pervert.” 

“Then don’t perv then?” Minutes later she was done feeding, You gently gave her a quick burp and asked Mickey if he could put her in her baby bed, so you could at least get a few minutes of sleep. She had after all woken you up at a crisp two thirty in the morning. 

“I don’t want to hurt her, are you sure you want me to?” 

“Of course I do! you’re her uncle, plus I know that we’re going to need your help a lot so you may as well start practicing now.”

***~***~***~***~***~***~***

You must have been out for a while, when you woke up, a smiling Robert Floyd was nursing his baby girl. Holding her close as he paced around the room. 

“I'll protect you with everything I have darling, you’ll always be loved and cared for. Your mamma was my best girl, my one and only love, I didn’t think I could love another girl as much as I love her but then you came into my life and I'd happily use her as a shield to protect you.” He laughed at his own joke. 

Great, the first dad joke and it was only the beginning of your forever of your lives together, you thought to yourself. A tiny cry came from the little human in his arms. “Shhh, shhh don’t wake your mama up darling, she’s been through a lot to get you here to me, she deserves her rest now my sweet, sweet girl.” Bob bounced her as he walked around the room slowly. 

“We still have to pick a name for you baby, I like Lily or Sky, we can’t name you Natasha because that would give Aunty Nix too much power, and we don’t want that now do we?” You laughed, startling Bob a little that he jumped a bit.

“Sorry I scared you, but very true. If it means anything I love the name Lily.” Bobs eyes went wide as a smile grew from ear to ear. 

“Did we just name our daughter?” Biting into your bottom lip you nodded in agreement. He walked over to you dawning beaming smile. Bob was completely filled with all the  love in the universe for his two beautiful girls. 

Bob placed Lily down onto your chest and you noticed something odd around her tiny fingers. You took a moment to process what it was. A shiny diamond ring, the most beautiful thing you had ever seen. besides your beautiful daughter.

“Bob?” Was all that fell out of your mouth before your eyes started to well for the seventh hundred time today. He brought his chair up to the side of your bed and rested his hand on the side of your face, caressing your wet check just as you had done to him back at home earlier that morning. 

“Y/n will you make me the happiest man alive and marry me?” Bob had told Fanbky earlier that week he was planning on asking you to marry him. That why in the flurry, Mickey had let it slip. 

You knew this day would come, you felt it in your heart. You loved Robert Floyd so fiercely and so tenderly and you knew he loved you just as much. 

He reached out gently to place the beautiful engagement ring his grandmother had given him on your finger. And with the happiest of tears with your newborn resting on your chest, you got the chance to say yes. 

“Robert Floyd, I thought you’d never ask.”

[skyloftian-nutcase]

(content warning, unnamed character death, war)

A gentle breeze swooshed through the area, carrying a song of peace, a jarring juxtaposition against the backdrop of the world it caressed. The earth was torn and soaked, soil absorbing blood like dew, poisoning a nearby stream. Malice clung to the air a moment before being swept away in the wind, like water flowing over an open wound. Bodies lay on the scuffed-up ground, looking almost like they were resting were it not for the open eyes, the disfigured contortion of their positions, the chunks of armor and weapons, the stench of death permeating the air before the zephyr carried it away.

Link sat overlooking it all. He felt strangely disengaged from it all, mind not really coming up with words, chest tight, body stiff, exhausted and filled with energy, adrenaline making his eyes stay open until they burned while every fiber of his being screamed for rest. Hemisi sat beside him, still holding a scroll she’d picked off the Gerudo general they’d killed in the battle.

Eventually, his friend broke the silence first. She always did. “How many do you think died?”

Did it even matter? He shrugged, too tired to speak.

“I used to think being a warrior was an honor,” Hemisi muttered, fingers tracing over dried blood on the parchment. “That it was my duty to lead the Gerudo and defend my people should we ever need to fight.”

The wind blew again, rustling leaves in the trees as they fell, blood red and golden yellow, like fire raining from the sky.

“There’s nothing honorable in this,” Hemisi finally said quietly.

A sound caught both teenagers’ attention, carried by the breeze, a groan, a whimper. Link rose, pulling out a dagger while Hemisi drew one of her scimitars. The pair moved slowly in unison, watching each other’s back and scanning the deserted battlefield.

It didn’t take long to trace the noise to its source, leading them to a Hylian soldier who was laying on the ground. Blood had soaked through his armor, looking like he’d been swimming in it, face pale as snow, eyes terrified, body twitching in agony.

Link rummaged through his pouch for a potion, but found that he had none. Hemisi came up short as well.

“We have to get him back to camp,” Hemisi said, eyes worried as she looked around to ensure there weren’t other threats or survivors.

Link just stared at the soldier. He’d lost so much blood. He’d lost too much blood. He heard Hemisi curse softly under her breath, kneeling down, and he saw the other wound she’d picked up on. The soldier’s leg was missing, the majority of bone and muscle hidden in tattered clothes, but he could still see the grotesque display well enough, could feel the way his mind numbed further, the way he physically recoiled.

Hemisi shifted a little to kneel beside the man. The camp was too far away. This soldier was too far gone.

It felt… wrong. Giving up like this. But by this point in the war, Link knew when it was time to stop fighting.

“Should… should we finish it?” Hemisi asked quietly as the soldier moaned, barely noticing they were there.

Link moved slowly, kneeling at the man’s other side. Hemisi glanced up at him, grip tight on her blade, ready to end the soldier’s suffering. She’d spilled enough blood as it was – what was one more, if it was to help?

The Hero of Hyrule shook his head. “No. Let Farore take him when she thinks he is ready. But we should stay with him.”

Hemisi bit her lip, looking away from the soldier a moment as he moaned again. Link slowly reached down to hold the man’s hand, and Hemisi sighed, putting her hand on the man’s shoulder.

“We’re here,” she whispered softly, trying to keep her voice steady. “You’re not alone.”

The teenagers stayed, offering what little support they could as the man passed on, waiting until he stopped twitching and gasping, until the tears stopped falling, the blood stopped oozing. The soldier glanced at Link one last time. “H-Hero…”

Link squeezed his hand. Whatever the soldier tried to say couldn’t get out of his throat before he breathed his last, eyes fixed on the young warrior.

The pair sat there a moment, honoring the fallen in their own ways, before they rose together. It was over.

When they made it back to camp, they sat once more, staring out at the field, letting the breeze play with their hair.

[theatrelove3000]

You’re On Your Own, Kid

This is the first Obi-Wan fic I have posted, let alone let someone other than two close friends read. It took me three months of no time, energy, or inspiration to finish this, but it’s finally done, and I am actually really proud of it. I am thinking about expanding this, depending on the time I have and the inspiration as it comes. Let me know if you like this and want to see more!

Sith! Obi-Wan x former padawan reader

Warnings: I suck at warnings. Uhhh, dark side, mentions of death, maybe manipulation, kissing but only a little, canon violence (dude gets an arm cut off), lightsabers, Sith! Obi. I think that is it. The reader was his padawan but they didn’t start training together until she was already an adult. The reader wears a dress but I don’t think I used pronouns?  Lmk if I missed anything else.

Summary: When your master suddenly falls into the darkness, you are left alone to be subject to the watchful, judging, mistrusting eyes of the Jedi Council. It’s one thing to lose a master, you’ve lost one before Obi. It’s something else to lose the man you love. Especially when you can still hear his whispers. 

Inspired by Taylor Swift’s You’re On Your Own, Kid! Recommend listening while reading this

Three months, two weeks, and six days.

That's how long it's been since you last saw Obi Wan. He'd go on missions that could be that long, or longer, but this time stretch was harder because you know he isn't coming back. Obi Wan is gone. He left the order. He abandoned you. 

At least, that's what you keep telling yourself.

You try to stay upset and hurt about it but it's becoming more difficult by the day. Watching your master walk away from the only home and family he ever knew was a major shock to everyone. He always preached about how the Jedi Order was good, right, and peaceful, yet suddenly, he was gone after causing quite the stir in a council meeting.

He had come back to your shared apartment and marched right over to you, grabbed you by your elbow and drew you into his chest. He was always more physically affectionate with you but this was something different. Something unsettling. He had wrapped you in a tight hug, breathing in the scent of you before dropping his head and whispering one thing in your ear. 

"My chains are broken. The force has freed me."

And then he was gone.

It was explained to you later that your master had fallen and you were to be reassigned to complete your training. You had been set to take your trials for your knighthood in a few weeks but due to Obi Wan's sudden switch to the dark side, they feared you harbored the same beliefs he revealed he had to the council. 

Your new master is… for lack of a better word, an ass. She is your third master. Your first one, who had selected you at a young age, died a few years back. Obi Wan decided to complete your training, since you were just three or four years from knighthood, already an adult. This new master is short and cold and uncaring. You had just been through a rapid and difficult transition and she held no compassion in her eyes, only wariness and dislike. She didn't trust you. 

No one did now. All the friends you had no longer speak to you because they fear you are unstable and dangerous. You never showed signs of leaning into the dark side but because Obi Wan fell, you also must be dark. His apprentice. Only Anakin still speaks to you. Occasionally, Master Yoda invites you to meditate with him as well, though you suspect he is doing so to check on your signature. Master Yoda is a kind and gentle soul but he must be wary. You understand. Sort of. 

It isn't until the heat of summer fades and cool winter winds start to blow that you start to hear him.

My darling.

Little dove.

Sweet one.

Angel.

The terms of endearment your master used to call you whisper through your mind, as though he were right behind you. You feel his presence when you're alone and see him in your dreams. You'd thought if you dreamed of him, they'd be nightmares but they aren't. They're sweet dreams. Almost memories but with slight changes.

Mornings after nightmares when you'd wake in his bed wrapped in his embrace, though he lets his hands wander more. Presses kisses to your neck and shoulders. Messing up on purpose during training so he'd have to wrap his arms around you to fix your form but he stands far closer, holding you tightly to his body. 

You knew you loved him before he left but he never showed signs of returning the feeling. It wasn't until he was gone that the signs appeared. For a while, you thought it was just your mind grieving the loss of him. That is, until he comes to you. 

~~~~~

Anakin manages to convince the council that you need to get out of the temple, take on a mission again. He's always been persuasive, though at first the council wasn't inclined to grant his request. Through many meetings and solid evidence that you're not like Obi Wan, they allow it on the condition that he keeps you in his line of sight at all times. He agrees readily and tells you to pack a bag. 

After explaining the mission, he takes you to Padme so she can help you find a dress. You're attending a gala the senate is holding in order to ease tensions, though with the way the galaxy is now it will only raise them. 

That's how you find yourself standing in a big ballroom wearing a long sleeve, floor length dress. Despite the dress still being modest compared to the other women around you, you still feel exposed. Your Jedi robes leave everything up to imagination but this dress does not. It's more form fitting and accentuates certain parts of your body in a very flattering way, while still being conservative.

"My, my. What have we here? Did you lose your way, Little dove?"

The voice makes you freeze. You spin around, looking for the owner but see no one. You shake your head, hoping to rid yourself of the panic and hope that had appeared with the voice.

"Did you stray too far from home? Do you need help finding the path?"

You know his voice better than you know your own. He's here somewhere. You can feel his eyes on you even if you can't see him.

You turn slightly, searching the crowd for Anakin. He's talking with some of the senators, Padme by his side. He's occupied.

You start walking.

Letting yourself out of the ballroom, you wander through the halls of the massive building the gala is being held in. You had seen a terrace when you first arrived and been escorted in. There it is. You open the doors and step out into the cool night air. 

You don't hear him as he follows you or as he shuts the doors to the terrace. You don't hear him take the last few strides necessary to stand behind you, closing the distance between you. The only sign that you were correct is the feeling of his hands on your hips. They're warm and strong and certain, just as they always were.

"My Little Dove." His greeting is whispered into your hair just above your ear.

"Master-"

"I am not your master any more, my darling." He interrupts you, his voice sending goosebumps down your arms. "I am simply a being you meet in your travels as a pawn in a game your side can't win. I am only a man who has missed you very dearly."

You take a deep breath, praying your voice won't shake as you respond, "you wouldn't have had to miss me if you hadn't gone."

The hum he gives in response is deep, seemingly coming from low in his chest. "It was time for me to go. I hope you can understand. Places to be and people to see, you know."

"You left me. You abandoned me like everyone else." 

He tightens his grip on your hips, fingers digging into them. "I did not abandon you. I never left you, Little Dove. I was always there, always watching. It may have been from a distance but you were never alone."

You try to control your emotions, keep your cool, "Your leaving the Order has shown me I have always been on my own. I didn't choose this life, Obi Wan. It was thrust upon me before I was at an age that I could understand it. I don't remember the sound of my mother's voice. I don't know my father's name."

"I didn't choose it either, darling. Very few of us did. To be entirely honest with you, I dreamed of leaving and yet I stayed. Do you know why, my Little Dove?" His fingers are tracing up your sides delicately, never straying into areas he has not gained permission to touch. 

Your voice cracks a bit as you respond, "Why, Obi?"

"I stayed because I needed to be around you. Your presence is my vise, your signature is, simply put, addictive to me. It was inappropriate for me to have the feelings I do for you while you trained under me so I kept them at bay as best I could." His nose grazes your temple as he speaks, the edge of his beard lightly scratching your cheekbone as he speaks, "I didn't do as good a job as I thought. Those around us began questioning our relationship. They said horrible things that I will never allow to reach your innocent ears. I could have killed anyone who ever said anything nasty about you. I still can. All you have to do is ask."

Your breathing falters, though you can't tell if it's from fear or shock or something else. If he catches it, he doesn't say a word. "I don't want that. Murder is still wrong, no matter where you stand politically."

"Ah, but don't you see, my Little Dove? I don't wish to kill for political reasons. I kill for you. Anyone who ever hurt you deserves to go."

"You're frightening me, Master," you whisper shakily. He responds by wrapping his arms around your waist and pulling you back against his chest.

"I do not wish for you to fear me, my love. I only want to protect you, to keep you safe. I can continue to do that from afar as I have been these three months. Or… you could come with me." He keeps his voice low, fingers stroking your sides delicately.

"Where? Where would you take me?"

"Home, Little Dove. I will take you home."

You close your eyes, feeling your resolve beginning to crumble. Suddenly the warmth of your former master against your back is gone. You turn and he's nowhere to be seen. The only sign that you did not imagine it is the phantom feeling of his hands on you. 

"All you have to do is call for me, my Little Dove. I'll come to save you from your golden cage." 

Suddenly you hear your name being called. It takes you a moment to register that it's Anakin's voice. He sounds a little worried. You turn all the way around for the first time since stepping onto the balcony. You use the force to open the doors.

"I'm here, Ani"

His head snaps to face you at your voice and he quickly makes his way over to you, "I've been looking everywhere for you! What the hell are you doing out here?"

"It was a little stuffy in there. I just needed some air. I'm sorry if I worried you. I didn't think I'd be gone long." You let him lead you back inside. Instead of taking you back to the ballroom, he escorts you outside where Padme is waiting.

"It's fine. I'm just glad I didn't lose you. That… would not have looked good on me." He laughs a little, rubbing your shoulder comfortingly, "it's time for us to head out. We're going to be escorting the senator to her suite in the hotel and then going to our room."

"Yes, Master Skywalker," you bow slightly dramatically, tone dripping in sarcasm.

He laughs, rolls his eyes at your playfulness and shoves your shoulder as you start walking, both of you flanking Padme. 

~~~~~

And that's how it began.

You start answering him when he whispers into your mind. You didn't even see him that night but you know it was real. Even if it wasn't, you hope that you continue to hear him. You start feeling him as well. You even catch hints of his scent from time to time. Always when you need him the most.

Those moments became more and more common. The weight of arms around you in those few blissful moments between sleep and wakefulness make you think of him. He whispers encouragement as you train with your new master, even the occasional reminder to help you correct your form or a suggestion to make a motion easier for you. He's still helping to train you. Apparently your four years with him didn't make him sick of teaching you.

It's your next off-world mission that starts to cause your foundation to crumble.

Anakin had convinced Master Windu that he could take you off-world with himself and Ahsoka instead of being with your own master. It was a simple mission. Get into the separatist base, steal the information, get out. 

When is anything ever that simple?

Your cover was blown quickly and it doesn't take long to realize this was a trap. You are separated from Anakin and Ahsoka somewhere in the crossfire between your troops and the battle druids. You find yourself in an empty hallway alone, not even a clone behind you.

Looking around, you move back towards the way you came, only to realize you are more than a little lost in this base. You reach out your signature to find Anakin but are met with a different signature. Another, more familiar one.

Obi Wan.

Before you can take a moment to think it through, you're running towards it. You chase the warm, blue signature you've grown oh so attached to deeper into the base. When you reach a door that you can feel him behind, you pause. Pressing your palm flat against the cool metal, you reach out again. Reaching for him. He responds by tangling his signature with yours, but doesn't open the door. You hear a click and realize it's the lock. He unlocked the door. The door still doesn't open. He's giving you the choice. It almost makes you cry.

He is giving you the option to reach him. He isn't forcing you into anything, simply waiting to see how you decide. The Order never does that. All they do is command and demand and give expectations to meet. It's exhausting. You're tired. You miss him. 

"Obi?" You whisper to the door. As a response, you hear a small thud on the door as he presses his hand to it where yours is. You can feel the pressure of his power through the door. He whispers your name back to you.

"I'm frightened," you feel your eyes start to water, voice breaking softly, "I just want you."

"I know, my darling. It's alright if you are not ready yet. I'll wait for you. I'll wait an eternity for you." His voice is louder than yours, but not by much. You want to open the door but can't bring yourself to do it. He can feel it. You know he can. His signature brushes over yours gently again, soothing you. He was always good at that.

"I have to go, Master. I'm sorry. I need to find Anakin." 

"It's alright, Little Dove. I'll be with you. Always."

You nod and take another moment of weakness before pulling away and running the way you came. It takes you twenty minutes to find Anakin and Ahsoka again. As you reappear, Ahsoka crashes into you, hugging you tight.

"Are you okay!? Your comms weren't working. We've been calling you and sent troops to find you but we couldn't! What happened? Where did you go?"

You push Ahsoka back to look her into her eyes, holding her shoulders. "It's okay. I'm fine. I got lost in the hallways. The droids were coming from that way so I handled it. I just got confused on my way back to you. All the halls look so similar."

You try cracking a joke as you notice Anakin watching you cautiously. He knows something. Looking over, you cast what you hope is a charming smile in his direction. He nods and gives a small smile in return but still looks concerned, though you can't tell if it's for you or because of you. 

When you return to the Temple, the council convenes to be briefed on the mission. Anakin credits you with destroying a majority of the Droid squadron within the base. The council seems to be a mixture of impressed and put off by this news. You're not surprised.

You feel nothing for them anymore. They don't do anything but cause more problems for you and those around you. Most Jedi would say the most dangerous feeling to have is hatred. Some say anger. Others will tell you that hope is the worst thing to feel, especially in this war.

No. The most dangerous thing a Jedi can feel is indifference. Indifference causes one to not have loyalty to those they have been sworn to. With anger or hatred or even hope, it shows one still feels attached to something. With indifference, it is not so.

Your indifference is what Obi Wan was waiting for. 

~~~~~

The next mission you are sent on is the one that sends you over the edge. 

It's another gala you are to attend, this time undercover as a senator's aid. The moment you arrive, you reach out for Obi Wan. You search the room with your eyes and your signature, praying to the Maker that he is there.

As the evening progresses, you stop looking for him. You become distracted by doing your job, working the crowd and getting more information you've been sent to collect. Though the council has seemed to develop more trust in you over the last couple of months, they don't trust you entirely. You have another Jedi with you to keep an eye on you. You don't remember his name, and it doesn't particularly matter to you anyway. He's just a security measure to protect the Order. 

"Pardon me for interrupting, Senator Gunray. I was hoping I might ask this lovely young lady for this dance." His voice drips across your ears like bacta over a burn. Your posture relaxes as the senator you were speaking with bows out gracefully, promising to speak with you again later.

You turn and finally see the man you've dreamt of for five whole months, though if you're honest, it's been longer than that. He looks dashing in his white suit and cape. As your eyes trail up from his chest, you catch the hairs of his auburn beard lift as he smiles at you. You see that smile next, the shining and slightly arrogant one you grew used to throughout your few years of training with him.

He reserves this smile for you. The one that shows his pride but also a glimmer of praise for you. He softens whenever he sees you, even if it's isn't noticeable to anyone else. It always was to you. He was a good and kind master, but a better friend. In this smile, you see your friend. 

You raise your eyes to meet his and your breath catches. The cerulean ocean you are used to seeing is gone, replaced by molten gold, framed by dark lashes, which seem darker than they used to. Maybe it's just your imagination.

"Remember to breathe, Little Dove. I fear you will pass out if you don't."

You let out a small huff of a laugh as you smile and glance down to your feet. You see him lift his hand to under your chin, raising your eyes back to his. You can see him searching your face for something. He must find it or you are imagining it because he draws away again, offering you his arm to take.

"I believe I offered you a dance, my love. May I have one?"

"Yes, my lord." He leads you out onto the floor. A waltz starts not long after he pulls you into position. As you dance, he keeps you closer to his body than the other partners on the floor. You don't mind, letting yourself melt into his arms for the first time in several months.

Obi Wan was the one who taught you to dance. He had been trying to help you learn to make your movements smoother, more choreographed as you dueled. You kept making jagged, uncoordinated movements that caused you to lose your footing or leave an open spot for someone to strike. Obi had taken your Saber, tossed it and his own to the side, then pulled you in gently. He kept a respectable amount of space between you as he placed your hand on his shoulder and his own on your waist, holding your opposite hand. And he taught you to dance. Slowly, you got the hang of it and he moved back into the forms you were learning. You never lost to him in a duel again.

The dance sessions became almost a regular occurrence. He'd hug you when you were upset and slowly rock you, letting it turn into a silly little dance to make you smile and giggle. He'd kiss your head and twirl you just to make you squeal or blush. Those are his fondest memories of being in the order.

"I have a question for you, Darling."

"I will answer anything you ask of me, Darth Nighte," you respond without hesitation.

He grins widely and lets out a laugh. "You always have, haven't you? My good girl."

You blush slightly and look away from him to hide it. He doesn't like that. He lifts your chin again and raises an eyebrow, warning you not to look away again. 

"Did you pick this gown to get someone's attention?" He says it in a teasing tone but you know what he is asking. Is the dress for him?

The dress you selected for the gala was bought with what little you had saved over the years. You had gone out into the city on one of your rare days off to buy it. It was in the shop window and you'd asked to try it on. It was a long sleeved, dark blue dress with tiny gems to make it appear as though you were a part of the evening sky. It's a bit lower cut in the bust than you thought you'd be comfortable with but seeing the way he admires it, you know it was the right decision.

"I must confess, my lord. I fear I am no longer a good Jedi. You see, I find myself disagreeing with the rules and growing agitated trying to suppress my emotions. It feels like I'm being pulled down a different, new path. I can't stand the rule against attachments. I have found that attachments only make you stronger. Maybe that is what they are afraid of…" you trail off as you realize how much you spoke but he holds your eye contact and nods for you to continue. "I have found myself deeply attached to a lord at this very party and I had hoped he'd find the dress pleasing."

"I'm sure he does, my darling. Do I know this lord, do you think?" He knows. He always does.

You smile and glance around as though making sure no one was listening, "I think you know him very well, my lord." 

"Then I suppose I'll leave you to him." He starts to release you but you grip onto him tighter. He laughs again, a sound you truly and sorely missed.

Together, you and Obi Wan danced for several more songs. You talk occasionally but mostly bask in the comfort you bring each other. As the night dwindles on and draws to a close, you know you have a decision to make. A path to choose.

Obi Wan senses your panic and turmoil. He searches your eyes again before leading you off the dance floor to a little alcove on the side of the ballroom. He presses you back against the wall and lets his body tower over yours. 

"My angel, you do not have to do anything you don't wish to. I don't intend to steal you away and hide you from the galaxy. It is your decision. This is your life. Lead it how you wish to. No matter what you decide, I will always love and support you. Even if I must do so from afar." He leans down and presses his forehead to yours. You can feel the love in his signature. True love. Pure love. How can a feeling so pure be so bad? 

Lifting your chin slightly, you let your nose brush his and hear his quick intake of breath. He leans further into you slowly, giving you time to pull away from him. To say no.

You never will.

He lets his lips brush yours. It's gentle, simple, peaceful. He lets you decide how to proceed. Slowly, your hands move from where you had pressed them to his chest up into his hair to pull him closer. He hums in pleasure and pushes you further into the alcove. He kisses you the way you imagined he would. Gentle but dominant. Kind but leading. Persuasive. The Great Negotiator, indeed.

You pull away first, needing to breathe. He lets you go but keeps his forehead against yours. 

"Obi?" You whisper to him.

"Sweet One?" He responds.

"Am I ready now?"

"That, my dearest little dove, is not a question I can answer for you."

You nod, feeling the tears form. His hand is holding your cheek and jaw on one side. He can feel when they start to fall. He coos gently and pulls you into his chest, whispering reassurances and words of love.

"I don't want you to go again. It hurts when you go, my Obi." You mutter through the tears. Obi Wan pulls away enough to hold your face with both hands.

"I don't have to. You can come with me, Darling. I have a place for us. It's safe and quiet and peaceful. It's perfect. I made sure it's perfect for you. All you have to do is say yes. Little Dove, you can stay with me. Come with me."

His voice isn't commanding or ordering you. It's… begging. He's begging you to stay with him.

Sniffling and wiping your eyes, you look up at his eyes. They're no longer gold the way they were before. They're darker now. Green. Your breathing picks up as you kiss him again. It's a soft, quick kiss. He reciprocates, waiting for your decision.

"Home?" You ask him. He smiles against your lips and nods.

"Home." 

"Obi Wan. Take me home."

The burst of joy in his signature is more than enough to convince you that this was the right decision. He kisses you fiercely before retreating and standing up straight. A lord once again. Offering you his arm, he leads you back into the public eye.

As he escorts you through the front doors of the building and towards the hanger, you are stopped by a voice yelling your name. Your Jedi babysitter. You forgot about him. Obi Wan stiffens as he hears it as well, turning his head just enough to see the man behind you. You try to keep going but Obi Wan has stopped. Your panic is beginning to rise again. You'll never be free.

"You are to return to the Temple with me immediately, Young Padawan. This is not a debate."

"I-" 

"My apologies, Jedi, but I believe she has made her decision." Obi Wan's voice is calm but there is a hint of a threat in it. He's daring the man to oppose him.

"I'm sorry, Senator, but that will not be happening. She has been asked to return to the Temple."

"Senator? Do you hear that, my darling? Senator. The level of disrespect tossed about by the Order is truly insulting. He doesn't even know my name."

You keep your eyes on Obi, pleading with him through your signature to just take you and go. In your bones, you knew it wouldn't be this easy. If only.

Obi Wan turns and the Jedi recognizes him. His eyes, now returned to gold, are a dead giveaway. The Jedi draws his weapon and beckons you over, holding his hand out as he calls your name again. 

"This man is not who you think he is, Padawan. Come with me." He reaches for you again but you take a step back, closer to Obi Wan. 

"Maybe I'm not who you thought I was, Master. Or… I think perhaps I am." Glancing up at Obi, you see him watching you with curiosity and… hope. You haven't seen hope in so long you almost don't recognize it. 

Your Obi nods at you, just once, and takes a step back. The Jedi is gazing at the both of you with confusion and horror as you look at Obi Wan.

"I told you already, Little Dove. This is your decision. No one can make it for you." His voice calms you. There's no malice in it when he directs it at you.

"He's trying to trick you, Padawan. It's time to go now." The Jedi got close enough to grab your wrist and begin to pull you away. The moment he touches you, your lightsaber is in your hand and the Jedi is screaming. You open your eyes and see the man's arm on the ground between you. His lightsaber falls from his other hand and Obi Wan comes to pick it up. You feel your hands shaking as you watch him replace the Jedi's Saber on his belt before reaching a hand out to you. 

"Are you ready now, darling?"

You look between Obi's hand and the man's arm and then at the blood on your gown. You take Obi Wan's hand and leave the Jedi kneeling on the ground of the hanger as you're taken onto your love's ship. He sits you down and pulls off his cape, draping it over you. It's heavier than it looked. He helps to strap you into the co-pilot seat before getting into the pilot seat.

As the ship lifts off, you catch a reflection in the glass of the cockpit window. Your eyes are surrounded by a ring of gold.

You feel Obi Wan take your hand as you reach hyperspace and let him smooth his thumb over your knuckles. You glance up at his beautiful eyes and see they are the blue you missed. You realize something that nearly brings you to tears again. You've been on your own for most of your life, especially when it got hard.

You don't have to be alone anymore. You have your Obi Wan.

~~~~~

@meshlasolus @vi-does-stuff @star-whores-a-new-hoe @turtlelover59 @lowkeyorloki 

[maraschinomerry]

Offerings

Pairings: George Karim x gn-ish!reader (reader's gender isn't specified but they are possessed by a female ghost)

Summary: you and George are working a case as a duo when you accidentally connect with a surprisingly dangerous source

Content: strong angst with a happy ending, suicide and unwanted pregnancy references for the ghost, possession, near-death experience, confessing feelings

A/N: I really wanted to write an angsty piece based on the Annabel Ward case and was also low-key inspired by Stuck In The Middle With You (shoutout to @stray-kaz, highly recommend reading but be aware it's 18+)

Word count: 3.2k

Taglist: @neewtmas @marinalor @ettadear @honey-with-tea

The limestone mansion loomed, imposing, at the end of the winding driveway, outlined in gold by the rays of the setting sun behind it. You and George approached in companionable silence - the cab ride over had been full of conversation, but it had left you at the gates and now you made the last stretch of the journey on foot to the sounds of crunching gravel and evening birdsong. The early autumn air was still warm, so your jacket was draped over your arm leaving you in a short-sleeved T-shirt. As the huge wooden door filled your vision, George drew a key from his pocket and slotted it into the lock.

It was almost 6 months now since you'd joined Lockwood & Co as their fourth member, and in that time you'd grown to love the rest of your team. Lockwood and Lucy were like the siblings you never had, but George… George was something else. It had started out small, little glances between the two of you when the others were up to their usual antics, making tea when you knew the other was having a bad day. Soon it blossomed into a need to be around him at every opportunity, butterflies in your stomach when it was him who sought you out for company or advice. Eventually you had no choice but to admit to yourself: you had a crush on George Karim. Not that you'd ever admit it to him. You were almost certain he didn't feel the same, so it would just make things awkward. Nevertheless, you were secretly excited that a busy spell meant Lockwood and Lucy had gone off on a case together and left you two to handle this one.

George had thoroughly briefed you on the case before leaving Portland Row and recapped it all in the cab: Evelyn Moore had lived in the mansion, her family home, in the late 1940s until, barely turned 21, she had given birth to an illegitimate child and been found dead a week later. Reports varied (the family had tried to keep the whole affair under wraps) but the general understanding was that she had stabbed herself. In the wake of such a tragedy the child, a boy, had been taken on by her parents and went on to have children of his own. When the visitations began, the mansion fell out of use but continued to be passed down through the family. Now Evelyn's granddaughter Amelia was attempting to have the property made safe so she could move in and reconnect with her family's history. Easy enough job, you thought.

The mansion was well-presented; it was clear that Amelia had begun making preparations, cleaning up the vintage furniture that had withstood the test of time and replacing what hadn't. Polished oak sideboards, smooth velvet loveseat in the hallway, rich red carpet leading up the staircase. It was this staircase that you took, leading you upwards as George disappeared further into the building.

A fine trail of small footprints led through the dust on the carpet, venturing a few paces forward before turning back to the stairs. If they were Amelia's, she must have seen the disrepair ahead and decided to focus her efforts on the ground floor. Either that or she'd stayed a little too long past sunset and been forced to flee. You flicked on your torch for a cursory search. Everything was as expected from the plans you were given - a bathroom to your right, two bedrooms up ahead on either side of the wide landing and a study beyond on the left. Another flight of stairs at the far end led to the working area of the house. Time to start searching for a source - the body would be long gone, that was a relief, but there could be a piece of jewellery or a keepsake, perhaps something relating to her pregnancy. You swept your torch around.

To your left, opposite the bathroom door, was a rectangular recess in the wall. The top portion was shelved, filled with cobweb-laden books and yellowing papers, and below it was a writing desk. The inkwell had long since dried up but there still remained a fountain pen and a stack of unfinished letters. They were difficult to make out, but it seemed to be Evelyn trying to find the words to tell someone about her newborn son. Her mother or a friend, maybe. Had it not been for the thick coating of dust, you could almost have believed that it was only yesterday she was sitting here, pouring her heart onto the page in ten different ways, none of them quite right. Poor lass.

In the side of the desk were two drawers and a small cabinet. You tried the door to the cabinet first, revealing nothing but another stack of letters, these ones received from others and almost all opened, and a spider which scuttled away immediately. You jumped at the sudden movement. Moving up, the bottom drawer contained a rather fancy letter-writing set, simple paper and envelopes but with soft uneven edges indicative of being handmade, and each stamped with a maker's mark. In the final drawer, your breath caught at the sight of an ornate letter opener. The handle was silver, inlaid with mother of pearl, and you couldn't help but tap the blade with the tip of your finger. It wasn't as sharp as a dagger or knife, but was more pointed than you expected and you hissed involuntarily as the point dug into your skin. Putting away your torch to lift it from the drawer, you let it balance between your hands. There was something about it you couldn't quite put your finger on. Hadn't the reports said Evelyn stabbed herself? She'd have had to put some real force behind it to do serious damage with this, though. 

"George?" you called out, keeping your voice light and airy even as you raised it to travel to wherever he might be in this immense building. It was early yet, but you had no idea when or if Evelyn would start manifesting so the longer you could put off aggravating her, the better. A noise sounded in return, too far to make out. Were your ears deceiving you or did you hear footsteps?

When you turned your attention back to the letter opener, you were startled to notice a fine silvery-white pattern spreading across your skin like ice forming on a lake. You wanted to fling it away, to let it fall from trembling hands, but it felt like something was blocking the nerves, not allowing your brain access, so you could only watch as the tendrils spread further across your perfectly still palms.

"George!" you cried with more urgency. Positive energy be damned, you needed him here now. That definitely sounded like footsteps, coming from the direction of the other staircase, but they were slow. Too slow. Something crept into your vision, burning white, and in a flash the landing was bathed in warm light.

You squinted up at the small chandelier, aglow as it hung from the ceiling. Had that always been on? Hadn't you had a torch? You glanced down at the letter opener in your hands, noting the way the ice on your skin had disappeared, but when you blinked the blade was on the desk.  Where it was supposed to be, you thought. A pretty girl wandered into view, in a floral wrap dress and heels with her blonde curls neatly pinned back.

"There you are," a voice sighed up ahead. It was a young man, possibly a few years senior to the girl, dressed in a suit almost as sleek as his neatly coiffed hair.

"Basil, how did you get in here?" You watched the girl speak the words, and yet you heard them not out loud but in your head as clearly as if you were thinking and saying them yourself. In fact, the more you tried to consider it, the more you were unsure that it hadn't been you talking after all. You moved to stand next to the girl until you were seeing almost exactly what she was.

"You say that like I haven't been sneaking in to see you for years. Not that your parents wouldn't have let me in through the front door if they'd been home, of course." He smirked. That was right - his parents and yours… no, Evelyn's… were friends, and had more or less established the young couple from the moment of the girl's birth. It made it all the easier for them to court, and for them to have a child before the marriage had come to pass. Evelyn's parents had scolded her intensely for being so foolish, but for the sake of their social standing had done nothing to shun the young man responsible.

"They oughtn't. You've ruined me, Basil, and for what?" The words definitely felt like they came from you that time. Was Evelyn even still there? Yes, of course you were there. Wait. You were, Evelyn was; one and the same.

The whole room seemed to shudder, and for a second everything became incredibly grey. This wasn't right. Your, no, Evelyn's house didn't look like this. It was her, your, house without a doubt, but like it had been left untouched for decades. Basil was gone too, replaced by a younger boy with light brown skin and dark curly hair, who was watching you in confusion with some sort of light pointed at your face. You were confused too; where had your fiancé gone? Who was this bespectacled teenager? But you knew him, didn't you? Your heart fluttered against your chest at the sight of him, and the voice in your mind called out the name George over and over again.

The soft light of the more homely landing returned, and you looked at Basil with watery eyes.

"I loved you, you know that?" The curly-haired boy appeared again, and your voice cracked as a single tear spilled down your cheek and onto your T-shirt. Onto your floral wrap dress. "I really, truly loved you, but you don't feel the same."

"Who says I don't? I'm marrying you, aren't I?" Basil protested, but there was nothing loving about his tone. He was angry that you had the courage to voice your doubts, even if you both knew them to be true. Without ever breaking eye contact with him, without alerting him, you reached to the side and wrapped your fingers around the silver and pearl handle.

"You gave me a child because you wanted to, without ever stopping to ask what I wanted or how it would affect my life! If that is how you show your love, Basil, I do not want it!"

The young man's expression darkened, and you shrunk back. He grabbed at your bicep, but the touch melted into one more soft than you could have imagined as the curly-haired boy reached for you too, confused expression melting into one of worry.

"(Name), please, can you hear me?" You could, you knew you could, but the name that rolled off his tongue tasted foreign and wrong. It wasn't Evelyn. His fingers closed over yours where they had wrapped around the pearl and silver handle, fighting to pry them free, but your grip was firm.

Basil swam back into view. "You do not get to decide that. We are to be married, you are to raise my son, and you will accept whatever I decide to offer you."

"Then you can offer me nothing."

You levelled the letter opener at your stomach, the point aimed at the belly button which had so recently connected you to the baby boy who now lay in the bedroom down the hall.

—

George heard you call to him.

"Down here, (name)," he yelled back from the scullery. "What's up?" No response. He continued rummaging through piles of ancient belongings until he heard you again, louder this time. He took the back stairs, coming out on the far end of the landing. There were doors to either side, but they were all closed and your voice had sounded less muffled than if it had been behind one. He continued forward.

There you were. Standing motionless in front of an old writing desk, something balanced on your hands. Your torch was off, tucked in your belt, but as he brought his own up to try and see you better he caught a glimpse of silver. You didn't look at him, barely even flinched at the bright light. Oh god, were you ghost-locked? Was he too late? Your eyes were unfocused but not glassy in the beam of the torch, and as he watched something registered in your gaze. The corners of your mouth twitched into a gentle smile.

"I loved you, you know that?" you said without warning. George felt a pressure ease in his chest that he hadn't even realised had been building.

"I know, I just never-"

"I really, truly loved you, but you don't feel the same." No, if you'd let him finish… He stepped closer to you, reached for your outstretched hands.

Something was terribly wrong.

Your skin was freezing, thin webs of silver fanning out under some kind of letter opener. He'd seen those silvery lines before, when Lucy had tried to communicate with Annabel Ward. Oh shit.

"(Name)? (Name), please, no. Please!" His voice was rising frantically. He went to smack the blade away, but as he did so the fingers of one hand closed tightly around it.

"You gave me a child because you wanted to, without ever stopping to ask what I wanted or how it would affect my life! If that is how you show your love, Basil, I do not want it!" This was definitely Evelyn's source then, he'd read enough in his research to be confident of that, but it paled in comparison to the importance of getting it away from you right this second.

"(Name), please, can you hear me?" He was panicking now, scrabbling desperately at your fingertips even though they were as good as cast in stone. That glimmer of recognition sparked behind your eyes once more, before fading back into oblivion. You were gone again. She'd taken over. "I'm begging you, Evelyn, please, I know how this ends and I can't lose them."

Your hands moved, and for a moment he prayed that you were coming back to him, but then you turned the blade to your stomach.

"Then you can offer me nothing."

"No!" The word ripped itself through his throat as the blade began to press into your T-shirt, and with one final surge of energy he wrenched the letter opener from your grip. The metal skittered across the floor, coming to a stop when it hit the wall, and he hastily threw a silver net from his belt across it.

—

You returned to yourself with a gasp as you collapsed to your knees in a plume of dust. Someone was there, and it took a second for you to realise it was George. He followed you to the ground, pulling you into a crushing embrace. You hugged him back with arms as shaky as your breath.

"You're okay, (name), you're safe, the source is secure. It's George, I've got you. Breathe with me, ready?" His breaths were deep and steady against your chest, and you felt your own falling into the same rhythm. You wondered if, with him using both your names, this was something he'd dealt with before. When you finally felt like you weren't about to burst into tears at the sight of him, you pulled back. He let go, one hand drifting to where the sudden movement of the blade had torn the hem of your T-shirt.

"Are you hurt?"

Your hand shot up, brushing his as you passed a couple of fingers over your abdomen. They came back spotless. You sagged, all the adrenaline draining from your body. "No, I'm fine. Thank you."

He breathed a sigh of relief, hand not moving from the ripped fabric.

"You…" his voice broke. You'd never heard him sound so scared; your heart clenched painfully. "You were so close to dying, exactly how she did."

"I'm sorry, I shouldn't have been so careless picking up a potential source like that. I had no idea that she'd…" you trailed off. "Did she- I guess, did I say anything useful?"

George tried to act casual, telling you it wasn't exactly useful, but there was something about his demeanour and the way he couldn't quite meet your eyes. You waited for him to continue. "You, uh, said 'I loved you, but you don't feel the same'. Who was she saying that to?"

"Her fiancé." You bit your lip, teetering on the edge. Three, two, one, jump. "But I was saying it to you."

He looked at you then, gaze a mix of amazement, longing and something else. Hope. You saw none of it, eyes fixed on your fidgeting fingers.

"Hey," he murmured. "Can you look at me, please?" You half expected him to tilt your chin up, but he kept his distance, giving you the power to choose whether you did or not. That small moment of consideration was enough to convince you, and you steeled yourself for the rejection that was surely coming. For the pity. But you saw none.

"I didn't realise anything was wrong at first," he admitted quietly, "because I'd been so desperate to hear you say it." The words hung in the still air, waiting for you to process them. Slowly, you did.

"Why didn't you say something?"

He huffed out a breath and adjusted his glasses. "And risk having misread things? I couldn't do that, it would mean… losing you." The weight of the concept after the evening's events seemed trivial now. You both realised it as you glanced at the silver net in the corner. "I almost did lose you, and it was unbearable. I don't know what exactly Evelyn's fiancé was doing that made her say he could offer her nothing, but I know I don't ever want to be that person."

You reached out and cupped his cheek, marvelling at the way he leant into the touch. "You could never be that person. Trust me."

"I do, of course I do," he pressed a feather-light kiss to your palm. "And if you want to forget about all this, I completely understand, but I'm always here if you need to talk."

He was so sweet, you couldn't help smiling, but the exhaustion was creeping into your bones. Now that you'd neutralised the source, there was no real reason to stay any longer. "I just want to go home."

George nodded, and as he stood he offered you his hand. When he pulled you to your feet and tucked you into his side, helping you down the stairs on wobbly legs, a small part of you realised that maybe what he'd offered you was not just his hand but his heart. You'd offered yours too, the moment you told him those words were for him, but if you were really being honest you knew you'd given him your heart months ago. He'd keep it safe, he always did.

[autumnslance]

send HELPED for a scene from my muse's past in which someone helped / saved them

For Iyna, please!

She was surrounded.

The magitek smoked and sparked beyond the line of advancing soldiers; she'd accomplished that much, at least.

"Make sure to capture her," the Pilus called. "Sas Laccius will be pleased we've snared this hare!"

Iyna froze, pulse hammering in her ears, mouth dry, fingers clenched on her gun's stock. She had to move, had to react, had to do something, but the mention of Tyrsis had unnerved her far more than it should.

He still hunted her? After all this time?!

The soldiers nearest to her fell, cries cut short and blood spurting, arrows protruding from their necks and torsos. The squad reacted, turning to the new threat.

"More of her rebel friends!"

But she did not know these people; she had been on a solo mission to destroy this depot, her last cell dead and none willing to work with her--not with her strange visions of others' pasts.

Still, the sudden appearance of others unfroze her, and she lifted her gun and fired.

The battle was quickly finished, and the rebels dispersed into the depot to complete their work. Their leader, however, walked up to Iyna, her eyes wide at the sight of another Viera. The woman wore filigree armor, her thick white hair hanging long down her back, and her sharp red eyes raking over Iyna.

She was more threatening than the Garleans had been.

"Didn't know anyone else was operating here," the other Viera said.

Iyna shook her head. "It's just me."

The Viera's brows raised. "Working alone? No wonder you were in such a tight spot." Her long ears twitched and she looked toward the road. Iyna heard it too; the faint, tell-tale sounds of vehicles on the way. "We need to move; there's room, if you want to join us."

Iyna was certain the woman didn't just mean to leave the depot, but she nodded. "If you've got an extract plan, I'll take it. I...didn't really," she looked away.

The Viera studied her a moment, even as she called to her team. "I'm Fran," she finally said to Iyna. "General of Lente's Tears."

"Iyna. Not of anything," she replied as she followed the group through the ruined fence. Behind them, the depot exploded into a brilliant plume of fire and smoke, the incoming vehicles screeching to a halt outside the gate on the opposite side. "Thanks for the help." Her own plan to disable the depot had been terribly incomplete.

Somewhat on purpose, if she was being honest.

Fran's slight smile was feral. "You're welcome. Let's go--and maybe we can talk about making you a talented operative of somewhere again."

Iyna drew in a breath, nodded, and followed Fran.

[pillowfriendly]

15 lines of dialogue

Share 15 or fewer lines of dialogue from an OC, ideally lines that capture the character/personality/vibe of the OC. Bonus points for just using the dialogue without other details about the scene, but you're free to include those as well!

tagged by @ferrocyan yayayay yippyyy ^^ tagging @smallest-turtle and viewers like you

(coming back to the top to say i definitely did more than just the spoken lines because i misunderstood the prompt. my official stance on this is: whatever. eat my shorts)

---

The man scrambled back further, waving his spoon. “Are you going to rob me?”

“Um.” She conducted a brief inventory of his few belongings and glanced at the single scraggly chocobo. “No?”

---

“My mothers mostly told me forest stories, so I don’t know much about the ocean. But it seems… big… there?” She winced. Jude frowned at her.

“Too much water,” she added, desperate. This was a conversation. She was making conversation.

---

“Does it always have to be so hard?” She spoke to Fray, but would have liked to pose the question to several gods, too.

---

He backpedaled, holding his arm close. The saber lay at his feet, yet he didn’t reach for it. He wasn’t even trying. Why did that make it worse? “Do you even want to live at all?” Fray said. Kethry said.

---

“Yeah, we’ll go out. Unless you can trace the aetheric signature of defensive constructs. Or whatever that last scholar was talking about.”

“Kweh.”

“Me neither.”

---

She threw up her hands. “What for? If there’s something that needs killed again, I’ll get it out of your way. Happy?” She shook grit from her log and stood. “If I can’t do anything else, I’d like to do my job without busybodies.”

---

He thumbed his chin. “Still, the fact that she changed plumage, I assume after she reached full maturity, might make her something of a scientific anomaly.”

Kethry’s ears flattened. “An anomaly? That’s so! So!” she sputtered. “That’s so rude! She’s a good bird!”

“I’m not saying she’s not,” he said, in a tone somewhere between confusion and amusement. His eyes landed on a fin stuck to Phoebe’s beak. “Perhaps it was induced by dietary changes?”

“She’s just blue! Don’t be mean!” Kethry struggled to scramble into the saddle and maintain disapproving eye contact at the same time.

---

“There’s something like this up in Coerthas too. They say it came down when the moon fell. Saw an Echo of it happening first time I came here.” She waved his question away before he could ask. “I get these… past visions, sometimes. Side effect of the Echo. Don’t worry about it. Anyway, this whole thing formed ’cause of the impact.” She narrowed her eyes and tossed him the arrows. “But don’t stand there thinking about what it all means. That’s on your own time.”

---

This arrow flew true, but a twirl of her staff knocked it out of the air. “No, she just has Limsa. For now.”

“Has Limsa.” He drew several arrows to fire in succession. “I’m afraid I don’t understand.”

She turned to avoid the first shot. “It’s hers.” Ducked under the second. “She can use it.” Sent the next skittering and sparking along the crystal. “Get people to do things.” Startled him by leaping over the fourth with a dragoon’s high jump, and aimed for the fifth on the return. It zipped under her—she swung for it and missed, landing with a thud on the field. “She takes a cut for organizing trade. Makes the fleet sail here or there. But if she messes it up, or pulls too much…” She opened her hands and dropped the staff, then kicked it back up to herself. “Someone will take it from her. And if that can happen, she’s not really in charge of it, see? It’s a tool she can use while she’s got it. Or something.”

---

“Mmbwuh,” said Kethry.

---

“It doesn’t…” She scrunched up her face, then made a waving motion. “When Alphinaud and Y’shtola cast spells, you can feel their aether move when they weave it, and it goes like, fwoosh. But when I try to shape mine into a sigil, or anything like that, it’s like pulling on an anchor rode. Doesn’t move.”

---

“I just. When I lived here. We were hunting, the kids. I mean, we were kids, not that we were hunting any. It was the first time I was supposed to lead. And we ran into one of those, a boar, they grow too big here, and we should have ran, but I tried to take it down anyway, and—” She shook her head, to try and shake out the memory, too. “It got my cousin. Tore her right open.”

---

Still, he’d been whiny about it. “Since when have you gotten so demanding?” he panted.

“Since I decided we were friends.”

His ears flicked. “Oh? And when was that?”

She folded her hands over his head and rested her own on top of them while she considered. “Right now? A while ago? I dunno. I'm hungry, though.”

---

She shook her head, flicking water about as she did so. “The only reason not to help people is if you can't. And you should be sure that you really can’t, not just that it might be hard. Anyway, I know the Echo doesn’t work like that, probably. That's why it's stupid.”

---

Kethry laughed. “You kidding? Of course we can.” She leaned out to look up the incline, then rolled an eye over her shoulder at him. Her grin had too many teeth. “Monsters this big rely on having more power than you, and that's usually enough. It can try to hit us, sure. But it can't fight.”

[ghostiewriter]

drabbles or hc of fast and furious au jiara??👀👀

enjoy!🤠idk what this is but wkebkdwebfbjw

...

“I know what you’re doing and it’s not working.”

Kiara raised her brows, lifting her head to look at the blond who stood a couple of feet away from her. He had abandoned his shirt long ago, his tanned chest stained with grease stains and the wrench he was twirling between his fingers drew her attention for a few moments. 

She removed the lollipop from between her lips. “What am I doing?”

He let out a groan, the car he was working on now the last thing on his mind as he made his way towards her. Before she could even react, he was pulling her into his chest and quickly pushing down the hood of her car at once. 

“I was working on that,” she murmured with a small huff, raising the lollipop to her lips. 

“You were being a fucking tease, baby,” he grumbled as his head fell to the crook of her neck. His thick arms wound around her torso, keeping her back pressed against his chest. “How much longer are you gonna hold this over me?”

“A bet is a bet, Jay,” she said with a casual shrug of her shoulders. 

“Yeah but I didn’t think you were serious about a sex ban,” he grumbled, tightening his grip on her. 

“Shouldn’t have lost the race then,” she said, though her amusement was thick in her voice. 

He had brought this upon himself and both of them were very aware of that. She had told him time and time again before the last meetup that he needed to stop biting any bait that was hung in front of him. JJ—ever the competitive egotistic mess he was—ignored her. 

She had said to him that if he lost any of the races, they were on a sex ban. 

JJ just smirked at her. 

And now, two weeks later, he was still suffering.

“It’s been weeks,” he muttered, his lips tracing along her neck and down her shoulders. She only had a tank and pair of shorts on, the heat of the garage not really allowing anything else. “You gotta be suffering too, baby.” 

“Don’t you worry about me, big boy,” she drawled and lightly tapped his arms. “I can keep myself satisfied just fine.” 

“Not as well as I could,” he whispered, his voice dropping as his lips brushed against her ear. 

“I don’t know,” she mused, biting back her smirk. “I think I could get used to it being a permanent—

She didn’t even have a chance to finish her sentence before she was spun around, hands on her thighs lifting her until she was on the hood of her car. She looked at the boy with raised brows but he was already tugging her shorts down her legs. 

“Permanent, my ass,” he grumbled, the sound of fabric ripping as he tore her panties away before she could even bat his hands away. “Gonna fuck you pretty on your own fucking car, baby, and then we are gonna race and put this stupid ban to and end. Got it?” 

Kiara only grinned, pulling him closer by his belt loops and wrapping her legs around his waist. “Fuck me good, pretty boy, and I’ll blow you on the way home.”

...

[burnwater13]

Grogu didn’t know why anyone went to watch other people fight. That seemed pretty ‘uncouth’ to him. Of course, he wasn’t quite sure what uncouth meant either. He tried asking his dad but Din Djarin just shrugged at him. That shrug either meant that the bounty hunter didn’t know or he didn’t care. Well, that was frustrating. Why couldn’t he just explain?

Sure there were plenty of times that Grogu hadn’t explained things to people, including to the Mandalorian. Sometimes he just shrugged. Other times he pretended that he hadn’t heard the question. Still other times he just opened his eyes wider, dropped his ears down and tried to feel as sad as he looked. 

That last one worked pretty well on Peli Motto. The first one worked well with Fennec Shand, and he could always count on Greef Karga falling for the middle one. None of them worked on his dad. That was frustrating as well. 

Din Djarin would just stand there, looming over Grogu, one hand on his hip, his head tilted, and his other hand at the ready for finger shaking.

“Kid, Buddy, Grogu,” he would say, depending on when it happened, “you better come clean now. I’m a bounty hunter. I know how to extract information from people with a lot more to hide than you.”

Grogu was under the impression that the only interrogation technique the Mandalorian used was the offer to bring people in warm, or bring them in cold. The cold ones never said anything and everyone ended up cold. Some technique. Harrumph. 

But then Grogu would reflect that he really liked the tall human, even if he was looming over him on purpose, and he would come clean. He’d chirp, coo, and whistle his whole story. Sometimes it only took a minute. Other times, well, let’s just say Grogu had heard the phrase, ‘Make it a short story, I don’t have time for novel’ more than once. 

It still annoyed Grogu that he didn’t have any good way to do that to the Mandalorian. He was too small to loom. He was too sweet to shake his fingers at the bounty hunter. And the one time he’d tried the hand on the hip thing with the head tilt he almost fell over because he managed, somehow, to step on his own ear. Ouch.

He asked various people he knew how to handle it and their advice was all over the place. 

The Armorer had said, “He is a Mandalorian first, Din Grogu. He must follow the Creed. Learn the Creed and he will have to abide by it. There are many loopholes in it that a clever boy like you can take advantage of.” 

Uff, that was like being told by Greef Karga that he should consult with the teaching droid. It would at least know the meaning of ‘uncouth’. He wanted a more direct solution. 

Fennec told him that he should just use the Force and take his dad’s sidearm and ask him his question. Nope. Nope. Nope. He was not going to get his vid watching privileges suspended again. It took forever to catch up with all the Diggle and Daggle episodes he’d missed that week.

Boba Fett had overheard Fennec’s advice and drew Grogu aside once she completed her disappearing act. 

“Grogu, he’s your dad. Just tell him you thought as his father, he’d want to help you understand the galaxy better. Then tell him it doesn’t matter, you will just as the Daimyo. Remember shake your head and sigh a little. That sort of thing worked with my dad every time.” The Daimyo advised with a sort of sad smile. 

Grogu liked that advice best. The Daimyo was the only who mentioned how it had worked with their dad, so that gave him a lot more credibility and Grogu remembered hearing stories about Jango Fett at the Jedi Temple. He seemed like a pretty hard character. Just like his dad. 

Din Djarin came down to the throne room to pick him up and bring him back to Mos Eisley and Grogu hoped he’d find a time to follow the Daimyo’s advice before he forgot it. 

“Did you have a good visit?” Din Djarin asked them both.

“Yes. We did. He had a lot of questions for me. It was a real pleasure to have the young one here today.” Boba Fett smiled far more brightly than he had before Din Djarin had arrived.

“Good. I’ll be seeing you soon. Give Fennec my regards,” the Mandalorian had replied. 

Then Din brought Grogu back to their speeder bike. Grogu asked what he’d been doing, while Grogu was with the Daimyo. The Mandalorian shrugged at him. 

Great! He could test the Daimyo’s advice now! 

Grogu chirped and coo’d at his dad, shook his head, sighed deeply and then began to walk back toward the palace.

Din just walked over and picked him up. 

“Buddy, that won’t work on me. It never worked on my dad either. I just thought I would spare you this, but if you want to hear all about my trip to the armor polish factory, then fine. Did you know they make thirteen different kinds of polish in that one factory?”

Dank Farrik! His dad was right. There were somethings it was better not to know.

[scapegrace74-blog]

The Man from Black Water, Chapter 15

A/N  Just a short bridging chapter today that sets the stage for the final part of the story.  I think you’ll like it, because both Henry Beauchamp and Angus get a bit of what’s coming to them.

Previous chapters can be found on my AO3 page.

Henry Beauchamp spurred his horse forward, intercepting the derelict cart and its driver just as it was about to leave his property.

“Ah, ye’ve come tae see yer auld friend on his way.  Courteous as always, Henry.”  Murtagh re-arranged his tam over his oily hair and drew the back of his hand across his beard, where some of Mrs. Crook’s fine breakfast pastie still lingered.

“You’ve said enough today,” Henry growled.  “Turning Claire against me.”

“Ye misjudge the lass.  Jes as ye did her mother.”

Invoking Julia’s memory was like pouring lamp oil on the flames of Henry’s anger and he rose up tall in his saddle, hazel eyes flashing.

“Tell me,” he demanded, “once and for all, whose daughter is she?”

To his utter consternation, Murtagh began to guffaw, hitting his empty pant leg like he’d heard a good joke.

“Puir Henry Beauchamp.  All the riches in the world, but no’ a drop of wisdom tae enjoy them by.”

Murtagh slapped the reins against his old nag’s back and the old cart began to creak towards the road.  He waited until the last minute before looking over his shoulder at the now hunched figure of a broken, pathetic man.

“If ye had truly loved Julia, ye wouldna need tae ask.  Of course she’s yours!  But ye dinna deserve her.”

Without another glance behind him, Murtagh and his wagon began the long, arduous journey back up the path to the Highlands.

***

Jamie had hoped to gather his few belongings from the bunkhouse while the other stockhands were out in the fields, but luck was not with him. Angus and Rupert were inside, sharing a metal flask of something potent, despite the early hour.

“If it isna the teuchter,” Angus shouted with glee when he saw Jamie enter.   Word of Jamie’s dismissal had already spread amongst the labourers and Angus was delighted that the uppity young man was finally being cut down to size.

“Did they throw ye out o’ the big house, teuchter?” he goaded. “Bet they found out ye broke in more than that colt while we was away on muster.  Did ye have tae use yer spurs, boy?  Did she give ye a nice first ride?”

Months of indignity, disappointment and curbed temper ripped through Jamie’s restraint like an avalanche, burying any remaining patience he possessed.  The Campbells, Henry Beauchamp, his own parents dying and leaving him all alone in the world: for once, he just wanted to strike back and watch his opponent suffer a fraction of his pain.

Which is exactly what he did, far more quickly than Angus expected. He’d landed two hard right jabs before the smaller man even raised his fists.  Two more blows connected before Rupert’s strong arms grabbed him from behind, effectively pinning down his only weapons.  Angus drew his switchblade, a mad gleam in his flat eyes as he brought it towards Jamie’s throat.

“Angus!”  The deep voice came from the doorway, where Black Jack had returned to the bunkhouse in time to witness the fight.  “Drop the knife,” he commanded, his own blade held casually next to his thigh.

Angus considered his next move, trying to measure whether the sinister Black Jack was really willing to come to the aid of a green Highland whelp.

“I’ve done it before,” Black Jack answered the unspoken question with a snarl.  “And so help me, I’ll do it again.”

With a frustrated grunt, Angus tossed his knife aside and attacked Jamie with his bare fists.  Several blows forced the air out of the large man’s lungs and he twisted in an attempt to break free of Rupert’s surprisingly strong hold.  Pushing back against his captor’s solid bulk, Jamie raised both legs and kicked an onrushing Angus square in the sternum, causing him to fall backwards onto the floor with a cry.   The young Scot then loosed himself from Rupert’s grip, felled him with a solid upper-cut to the jaw, and turned on Angus where he lay groaning on the floor. His opponent raised a hand in mute entreaty.  Jamie considered stepping on the man’s throat but being wanted for murder was not going to improve his situation.  He instead landed one last solid kick to Angus’ ribs, reveling in the satisfying crunch, then stepped over his prone body and out the door.

Jamie needed to leave Netherton before any further calamity could befall him, but he had one last message to deliver.

“A man can be hard tae find in the Highlands,” he said to Black Jack, who still stood on the veranda, calmly carving a chunk of wood.  “Ye’re welcome at my croft anytime.”  The older man acknowledged him with a silent nod.

As Jamie rode Donas across the yard one last time, Claire came out of the manor house and stood on the front steps to watch him go.  Despite the ache he felt in leaving her, Jamie couldn’t help but smile, causing Claire to smile in return.  She lifted her hand in farewell, and he replied with a jaunty salute of his tam before riding swiftly away.

***

It was pitch black when a drunken Angus and Rupert stumbled into the Netherton stables, both looking considerably worse for wear.

“Ye see that colt, Rupe?” Angus slurred as they approached Hamlet’s stall.  “He’s worth a thousand pounds.   Do ye ken how much money that is?  More than we’re ever make working a lifetime for old Beauchamp, thas what.”

Angus grabbed a riding whip from a nearby peg and entered Hamlet’s stall, leaving the door open behind him.  A few sharp cracks and the young horse burst from the stall, cantered down the stone alleyway and out into the stableyard.  By the time the two men emerged from the barn, his black coat could barely be seen glistening in the moonlight as he fled down the lane towards the road.

“That’ll teach him,” Angus jeered.

“Yeah,” Rupert agreed.  “Who?”

“The teuchter, ye numpty.  Beauchamp will think he loosed the colt tae get even fer being let go.”

Satisfied with their final act of retribution, the two men staggered back to the bunkhouse.

Hamlet came to a halt where the lane met the road, looking left and right as though considering the best route to freedom.  A faint scent, friendly and familiar from hours spent being curried and spoken to gently, wafted from the north.  With a toss of his regal head, the colt turned and galloped towards the Highlands.

[thatmomwitchfriend]

What if the apocalypse never happened? Would Joel still meet Ellie?

Heart to Heart

A 'The Last of Us' fanfiction

read below the cut

Worried, Joel glanced down at his daughter as she curled into his lap for their movie night. He had been worried for her ever since her mother. But, now she was his to care for, and his alone; he would be damned if he would fail at this. Sarah had been draw into herself lately and hardly seemed to want to talk to him about anything. Usually she was this vibrant young woman, full of love and joy for the world around her. 

He had been watching her the past few days, and had decided that what they needed was a day out. He was pulling her from school the next day to take a hike and go out for lunch. She deserved it, after all she had been through lately. Poor Sarah, he sighed as he thought again. A soft snore startled him from his pondering and drew his attention back down to the beautiful girl, now asleep, in his arms. “That didn’t last very long.” He muttered, turning the TV off and hoisting her into his arms as he stood. As gently as he could, he carried her upstairs to her own room, tucking her into bed with a soft kiss to her forehead. The walk over to his room was short, but felt so long in the silence of the house. With a sigh, he fell into bed, slumber taking over in no time.

~~~~~

The following morning, Sarah woke up in a frantic state. Her alarm hadn’t gone off and she was LATE for school. “Dad! I’m late for school, come on!” She was running around the house, trying to gather her backpack and supplies. Joel sat calmly at the kitchen table, sipping his coffee and reading the morning paper. “I already called you out, sit down and have breakfast please.” She passed, looking at him with confusion painted across her face. “You…called me out?” She asked, slowly sinking into the chair across from him. He nodded, continuing with his coffee. “Why?” She asked, grabbing the box of cereal from the table next to her. He simply shrugged.

“I felt like it. Plus, you needed a day off. I’ve noticed that you’re slowing down a little and you seem really tired.” He explained, looking over the rim of his coffee cup at her to gauge her reaction. She looked back at him, a smile touching the corners of her lips. “So, what do you want to do today?” He asked, putting his now empty cup down. She thought for a moment, spoon hanging in the air between her mouth and the bowl. “Uh…I don’t know. Can we start with, like, coffee or something?” She asked, spooning cereal into her mouth by what seemed like the shovel full. Joel nodded. “Sure, you like that cafe downtown, right?” He asked, taking his mug to the sink and folding his paper up before pushing in his chair. Each movement seemed calculated based on his daughter. He was watching her like a hawk as he moved, and especially as he spoke. He didn’t want to upset her more than he imagined she already was. 

She nodded lightly, polishing off her bowl of cereal as if she hadn’t eaten in a week. She looked up at him as she got up. “I’m going to shower and get dressed.” 

“Right. I’ll clean up down here. Take your time, ok?” He took her bowl from the table and rinsed everything out, continuing to putter about the kitchen while she was upstairs. Slowly, the sink began to build a stack of dishes that Joel gave up on trying to ignore and loaded into the dishwasher with just enough time for Sarah to be finished up with showering and getting dressed. He nodded over at her and grabbed his keys off the table with his wallet. “Ready to go, kiddo?” He asked gently.

A nod was all he needed to start out to the truck, Sarah following behind closely. She hopped up into the truck, buckling her belt before he even had the chance to correct her on not doing it. The radio was turned to her favorite local station and the pair set off, singling loudly to the songs they knew and loved together. The road was fairly empty on their way to the small cafe, traffic only picking up slightly as they came into the downtown area that held the majority of the people and patrons for the cities major shops and restaurants. 

Right before his eyes, as if in slow motion, he saw it happen. A smaller car cut the truck off, stopping short with no space for Joel to brake. His reflex was for his daughters safety. Arm flying wide across her chest even though she had her belt on. But, nothing could stop the other truck that the sedan had cut off from slamming into Joel’s vehicle from the passenger side. A scream was cut short by the crunch of metal and shattering of glass. Airbags deployed. Chaos surrounded the single father as he yelled through the ring in his ears. “Sarah?! Sarah!” He leaned over, reaching to feel his only Childs face, over her shoulders and down her arms and hands. Nothing seemed broken, at least that he could tell from the outside. She looked up at him, coughing as if it were hard for her to breathe. Blood sprinkled over her lips. 

“Daddy?” She coughed again, more blood coming up over her lips and chin. “It hurts.” She cried out. He could only nod, eyes welling with hot tears. “I know. You’re gonna be ok. It’s ok baby girl, I’ve got you.” He whispered to her. Sirens wailed closer and closer. The father could do nothing but watch as death slowly beat the paramedics to his daughter. A kiss to the forehead was followed by a heart-wrenching cry. “I’m so sorry, baby. I’m sorry.” 

~~~~3 years later~~~~

Alarms rang in Joel’s ear, waking him for the morning. He groaned as he pulled himself out of bed, feet hitting the floor with an audible sound through the quiet of the morning. Across the hall, the closed door with the pink metal name plate caught his eye. A sigh heaved it’s way out of his chest as he stood to his feet, stretching his arms above his head. “Mornin’ baby girl.” He tapped the door lightly as he shuffled his way down to the kitchen for his coffee. 

He sat at the table with his coffee and laptop, checking his emails. None were of any importance. Ads from Home Depot and Lowe’s. But one caught his eye, the subject line was what caught him. “Organ Donor Recipient: Ellie Williams Contact Request Form”. His heart nearly leapt out his throat, while at the same time it seemed to dry up like a desert. His hand shook as he clicked the email, opening it into a new window.

“Mr. Miller,” it read, “my name is Ellie and I’m the lucky kid that got the short end of the donor list for a heart. I wanted to thank you, even though that seems sort of redundant. I guess I should be thanking Sarah. I was hoping I could meet up with you with my mom for lunch at the diner on Main Street? I understand if that’s too much to ask, but I hope you’ll reply soon.” Tears sprang up as he read. The email was signed with a little smiley face next to the kids name. Ellie. That was the name of the girl who had gotten his own daughters heart. Of course he had signed her off as an organ donor. Why wouldn’t he? Sarah would have wanted that, she had spoken so many times about becoming an organ donor once she was ready for her license. 

Joel didn’t know what to say. To be honest, he took three days to make up his mind, and two more to write the email response. Before he sat down to write up a response, he poured himself a coffee, similar to when he had first read it. He had read it 106 times since then, he had counted. He took a deep breath as he sat, fingers hovering over the keys as he formulated his response.

‘Ellie,” he paused again. “I’d like to apologize first for my delay. It took a while for me to process that. But I would love to meet with you and your mom.” Short and sweet. “Give your mom my number and she can give me a call to schedule around your school. Thank you for the opportunity.” He signed the email simply ‘Joel’

“That should do it.” And with a final nod without giving himself the chance to think twice about it, he clicked the little send button and listened to the quiet swoop of his OS sending out his email to the waiting little girl. The girl who literally had a piece of his daughter inside her. “I need a drink.” He grumbled, heaving himself from his seat at the kitchen table to head for the liquor cabinet.

Faster than he expected, the little ding of the new email notification sounded. “What the hell, doesn’t she have anything better to do?” He asked himself, carrying his bottle of choice back to the table with him.

“Joel,

I hope it’s ok to call you that. My mom said she would call you once she’s off work. Thank you so much, I can’t wait to meet you.

Ellie :)”

He nodded and swigged from the bottle, still gripped in a white knuckle fist by the neck. “Ok then. I guess we’re doing this.” He left the email pulled up, open on his desktop as he walked away and towards the living room. He would have to work on reminding himself that, no matter how kind or gentle this kid was, she was not his Sarah. Nobody could ever be Sarah.

~~~~~

The morning came for Joel to get ready to meet Ellie and her mother. He knew they were meeting at a diner, but somehow he just wasn’t hungry. Joel was always hungry. Odd. He shook it off as he brushed his hair in the bathroom mirror and ran out to the truck. He was running late. He never ran late, but he chalked it up to nerves. His truck ran like normal after the repairs, oddly enough. He was on edge his whole way there, he had been ever since the accident. This was the farthest he had gone since then. Traffic was light, which only had him more on edge. His eyes were alert on every singe driver, no matter how far over they were from him. 

Eventually, he arrived to the diner safely. His eyes scanned the tables lining the window. They must be farther in. He heaved a sigh and hopped out, boots crunching on the gravel of the parking lot, heading in he told the girl at the hostess stand that he was the third for a party of three. The girl was chipper as she grinned. “Oh, yeah! She’s been going on and on about how she’s getting her donors dad. It’s so sweet of you to do that for her.” She motioned for him to follow her, leading him through the diner to the back room where the tables were a bit further apart. He could see two heads, bent together and whispering. As he cleared the corner closest to them he cleared his throat. “Afternoon, ladies.” He called. The younger, more brunette of the two, whipped around to see him. She took him in with a wide smile and tears in her eyes.

“You came!” She shouted, jumping to her feet. “Can I hug you?” She asked, hurriedly. He nodded lightly, not exactly knowing what to expect; when he was offered a huge though, he relaxed. He hadn’t had a hug from someone of Sarah’s stature in three years. His arms opened of their own accord, and no sooner were Ellies arms wrapped around his neck tightly. She sighed heavily and gave him a quick squeeze before letting him go. “Come on, sit.” She was all but bouncing with energy. Joel smiled over at her mother, nodding a quick hello as he slid into the booth across from her.

“So, tell me about Sarah.” A beat of silence. “Please.”

[ebitchwriting]

Dragged Into The Blood

Story Summary: Never staying in one place for long, moving nearly every year, Lea Anderson was used to impermanence, chaos, and having to leave everything behind at the drop of a hat. Lea never expected that she would be kidnapped and wake up in a rusted, decrepit prison cell because of a madman's delusional belief in eugenics and cleansing the Earth of imperfection. By herself, with only the clothing on her back, she will have to rely on luck and logic to escape before she's killed or worse. Chapter Summary: Claire, Moira, and Lea start exploring the derelict prison in search of the missing gear. Along the way, Claire discovers something vital regarding their situation. Chapter Warnings: None

Welcome back! I know it's been a few months since I last uploaded a chapter. The MA Apprentice program fell apart and the training agent(clinic) decided to fire all but one apprentice with no reason given and no consultation with the actual program managers at UWH, which pissed UWH off so much that they decided to sever the clinic as a training agent for future apprentices. Thankfully, I was still able to become a CCMA and am now job hunting. As such, the schedule for this story is no longer monthly but whenever I have the time, but I'm not going to let myself fall back into a yearly schedule.

Anyways, I know it's short, but I really didn't want to keep this hanging in limbo. Enjoy!

1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9, 10, 11, 12, 13, 14, 15, 16, 17.

Chapter 17: Searching for the Gear

From beneath the improvised blindfold, crimson eyes stared at the aged and powerless spiked contraption before her. The spikes coated with a thick layer of rust, stained by old, dried blood. The scent of which was so strong Lea could nearly taste it in the back of her throat, almost making her gag.

"Oh," Moira's cadence was palpable with disgust, "that looks comfy."

"Yeah, let's take one home." Though Lea couldn't see it, she could hear the smile in Claire's voice. Lea couldn't help but snort out a laugh at the retort.

"Look at this machine! There's something inside of it!" Moira excitedly exclaimed, pointing towards the still sharp spikes. Lea's gaze followed her fingers and locked onto the slight yellow gleam of the surprisingly large brass gear trapped within the device. For a moment, surprise took hold of Lea.

'… How did I not see that...?' Lea's eyebrows scrunched up in confusion before her gaze fell back to the ground, finger tapping against her jawline.

"Maybe there's a switch?" Claire suggested, moving toward the opening in the back of the room. Moira quickly stepped behind Claire, clutching the crowbar and flashlight tightly. Lea, on the other hand, lagged, her gaze flitted between the machine and back at Claire, before reluctantly falling back in step behind Moira. A knot of doubt settled in the back of her mind, which only intensified as she observed the broken, warped ladder that appeared ripped apart. How could this derelict place have any power switches still functioning?

To Lea's surprise, the back of the room appeared better-lit compared to the rest of the facility. Neat too, with no stains of blood, minimal dust coating the surfaces, and the utility desk and shelving next to it looked well organized and even had some spare parts. Claire stopped at the desk, holding the parts in hand, closely inspecting it, before pulling out her handgun and started working on it.

The shuffling of feet next to Lea drew her attention away from Claire's mechanical work. When Lea glanced over, she saw Moira averting her eyes non too discreetly, her grip on the crowbar tightening even more. Lea wanted to say something, but her mind blanked on what she could do to comfort her. They weren't friends, Lea had no idea why guns made her so uncomfortable, and she also had no idea how Moira would take to a random stranger trying to comfort her. As her mind scrambled to produce a way to distract Moira at the very least, her clothed eyes were drawn to another platform, its ladder thankfully pristine and intact.

"Hey, Moira, right?" Lea timidly asked, getting her attention. Moira's eyes darted over to her, a wordless question in her gaze. Lea jerked her head over towards the platform behind the pixie-haired woman. "Wanna check it out? I'll cover you." When her amber eyes locked onto the platform, Moira's shoulders visibly sagged with relief.

"Sure, why not?" Moira said, trying to appear nonchalant. She closed the gap to the ladder and started her ascent. As soon as she was fully up onto the platform, Lea started climbing after her, not wanting to crowd the young woman. However, as soon as Lea was halfway up the ladder, the distinct rattle of a locked deadbolt reached her hypersensitive ears. "Fuck nuggets!" Moira none too quietly grumbled. Lea cursed under her breath, moved her hands to the sides of the rungs, and slid back down to the ground.

"What's wrong?" Claire asked, turning away from the desk and walking a few steps towards Lea. The handgun she was working on had been returned to its holster on her hip.

"Fucking door's locked." Moira promptly replied as she climbed down the last few rungs of the ladder. Claire hummed, her cerulean eyes darted up to the locked door then over past the opening to the center of the room. The older woman strode over just past the opening.

"Moira, I'll give you a boost. See if you can climb up." Claire called out, kneeling slightly in front of the warped ladder with her hands cupped, body braced.

"Uh, just me?" Moira asked, her grip on the crowbar and flashlight tightening again subconsciously. Lea's head quirked to the side, wondering the same thing.

"You're the lightest, it'll be easier if it's just you. Unless you hear anything up there?" Claire turned her eyes towards Lea's obscured ones. Lea paused, closing her eyes. Lea tried her best to focus her sensitive ears on above them and not behind. Shuffling feet, muffled rasping breaths echoed in the distance. After a moment, Lea let herself relax.

"I think we're safe." Lea answered, forcing the cadence of her voice to sound confident. When her gaze glanced over to Moira, she noticed how tense her posture was still. Moira closed her eyes and took a deep breath before handing the flashlight and crowbar over to the blonde.

Without another word, Moira walked over and stepped into Claire's cupped hands. Together, the two worked to give the young woman enough momentum to push herself onto the platform. As soon as Moira was fully up, Lea walked over and passed the flashlight and crowbar back to her. Wordlessly she took them, turned around, and with a deep breath walked into the unknown.

Lea waited, anxiously tapping her forearms as she kept her ears peeled for potential hostiles. Not too long after Moira started exploring, Lea could hear the woman stop. For a moment, she wondered what Moira was doing before the sounds of a crowbar being shoved into something metal and closed reached her sensitive ears.

"How are ya holding up?" Claire asked, snapping Lea's attention away from above and back down to her. Lea rolled her eyes and huffed out a sardonic laugh.

"Me? I'm all lollipops and candy canes over here."

"Lea—"

"Lana, remember?" Lea snapped, the burning agitation in her core almost overwhelming. With a sharp inhale, Lea made herself stop. She brought her hands up together, in an almost mock prayer and pressed against her lips. "I'm sorry, I swear I'm fine. Let's just drop it, ok?"

Annoyingly, the concern etched in Claire's face refused to falter. The knowing look in her blue eyes made the young girl feel far more vulnerable than she wanted to be, no, could afford to be. Then, the swift click of the deadbolt unlocking reached her sensitive ears, making Lea snap her attention back to the other platform. The blue door swung open, and the pixie-haired woman stepped forth, waving her arms at the others.

"Guys, this way!" Moira called out, cutting Claire off before she could start her lecture, much to Lea's relief. However, that relief was quickly replaced with dread when she glanced back at the older woman's face, the expression promising that the conversation was in no way over, only delayed.

As soon as the two got to the top of the platform and reached Moira, she anxiously shoved a small red box of handgun bullets into Claire's hands. 

"Good find."

"Not really, only has two in there. Who the fuck decided it was a great idea to put two bullets in a big-ass box with two locks on it?" Moira grumbled, flipping off the mangled remains of the lockbox down the hall to the right. Lea couldn't help the snort that escaped her lips at the motion.

'… Ya know… if it weren't for this hellscape… she'd be a lot of fun to hang out with…'

They didn't linger long in the cramped hallway, turning left and walking through the next slightly rusted blue door.

"Maybe once we're outside we can find someone to help us." Moira suggested, anxiety-riddled voice laden heavy with hope. Claire turned her head back as if to respond, but before she could utter a word a loud, muffled roar filled the silence. Moira gasped, pressing herself closer to Claire and Lea as a cloud of debris fell from the ceiling. "I just want to get out of here." Moira softly whimpered to herself. Lea felt a pang of sympathy flood her system at the fearful tone, memories of Africa threatening to rise to the surface.

"Let's not get ahead of ourselves." Lea started, trailing off as she saw Moira's already stressed face seem to contort more into an agitated grimace. "Sorry." Lea hastily added, tearing her gaze away from the other woman. Lights, switches, perhaps a control room? She tried the knob of yet another blue door. Locked, of course it was locked. Lea resisted the urge to hiss and fell back in step with the other two as they traveled down the hallway.

Claire carefully twisted the slightly dented knob, and when it didn't give her any resistance, the older woman pushed the squeaky door open. Lea couldn't help her eyes narrowing, switching from that door to the locked one in the hallway. The hair prickled against her shoulders as they passed into the new hallway, this one in just as much of a dirty disarray as the rest of the complex.

Forward, turning right, and slowly traversing down the cell block. Claire kept the handgun pointed up, finger next to the trigger as she checked each open cell. Turning left, through another door, and into yet another ominous hallway. Claire slowly stepped her way over to the right, craning her head in. Slightly lowering the gun, Claire looked back at the two younger women, waving at them to follow. A storage room, one that surprisingly wasn't too chaotic, except for the grim.

'… This place is like a fucking maze… undoubtedly by that bitch's design…' Lea couldn't help but wonder as she set her shotgun against the wall. Aimlessly, she wandered to one of the two storage shelves, rummaging through boxes and papers. Next to her, she could hear Moira's light steps, following suit in a mindless gathering of materials. A venture quickly proving fruitless, until Lea's eyes spied something white on one of the higher shelves.

Leaning up on the tips of her toes, Lea stretched her fingertips, reaching as far forward as possible. Her tiny fingers missed once, twice, then finally on the third try she finally managed to grab the slightly lumpy object under rough material. As she brought it down to eye level, Lea's eyes widened, recognizing the coarse white gauze and little black bar freely lying in the middle. Smiling, Lea pivoted on her heels and turned back to Claire.

"Look, it's a tourniquet! And it's visibly clean!" Lea excitedly informed the older woman. Claire didn't react, head buried in some paper. "Uh, my uh, my aunt showed me now only how to use this but also how to improvise one out of basic cloth and whatever sturdy stick is nearby. Plus, the material here is gauze, great for light wounds!" Lea nervously rambled on, feeling the familiar anxiety creeping higher the longer the older woman scowled at the paper. "What's, uh, what'cha got there, Red?" Lea asked, tone taking a higher pitch with the awkward drawl.

"Um," Lea craned her head back to look at Moira. Her amber eyes decidedly were looking in a far corner. Suddenly, she shot her hand out, holding a small red ammo box. "Found this, there's not much though. Finally, Claire lifted her head, looking between the two. Concern yet again etched her face, flitting back from the paper, down to their wristbands, then back to their faces.

"That's great," Claire said as she grabbed the bullets, taking the two bullets out and shoving them in her pocket. "Give Moira the tourniquet, she has more pockets." Lane nodded, passing the tourniquet over. "Good, now I want both to listen carefully. These cuffs," Claire lifted her wrist, pointing at the metal, glowing band, "they're measuring how we're reacting to all of this. Green's normal, orange for anxiety." Claire then pointed to the paper she was so engrossed in, "if it's blinking red, we're feeling fear. If it's a solid red, we'll mutate."

Lea's heart numbly sank with every word Claire said. Vaguely she registered Moira gasping and taking a step back.

"So, they're fucking gonna turn us into some fucking Silent Hill freaks because we're scared?!" The words harshly spilled out of Lea's lips before she could stop herself. Her hands snaked up behind her head, tugging at what little hair remained.

"What the fuck." Moira softly exclaimed, voice warbling ever so slightly.

"Hold on, it's more than just being scared. We've all been scared since we woke up here. If it was just that then we would have changed a while ago." Claire cut through, stepping forward. She clasped a hand on Moira's shoulder, and the other on Lea's shoulder. At the sudden touch, Lea couldn't stop how her body stiffened, rigid as a plank board. "Regardless, we are all going to get through this together. We're gonna have to keep each other in check. It's ok to be scared, but we can't spiral. Do you understand?" Claire's eyes danced between the two, her face soft yet stern. A pregnant pause passed, thick with tension as Claire waited for any indication that the two younger women understood the situation.

"Got it." Moira said, thankfully breaking the silence after fifteen seconds had passed. Lea gave a sharp nod, stepping back and away from Claire's gently firm grip. Claire weakly smiled, nodding at the two, and jerked her head in the direction of the opening.

"Come on, let's find a way to get that gear."

[helenaheissner]

Magical Girl Exorcist Squad #24

Nicole woke up on a carpeted floor with her head resting atop a pillow. Her legs were heavy as cement, her arm

s like they had barbells tied to them. Everything was a rush of pain and exhaustion. She hadn’t felt like this since the first time she’d run eleven miles back in high school. Part of her was shining with accomplishment and pride, but the vast majority of her was questioning every choice she’d made up until this point. 

Until she saw Amy lying on the floor next to her in a similar state of affairs. 

Nicole sat up in a rapid, jerking motion, only for lightheadedness to overwhelm her and nearly smack her back down to the ground. She pinched the bridge of her nose and drank in her surroundings: all five of her teammates were lying on the floor, with pillows supporting their heads and plain periwinkle blankets keeping them warm. Nicole was in the center, Amy on her left side and Cass on her right. The room was wide, with white walls and a green carpet. A rocking chair sat in front of the lone window letting in the colorful light of mid-dawn, and in that rocking chair sat Father Gonzalez, barely conscious. 

“Father?” Nicole asked. 

He jerked awake and rubbed his eyes. “Mija. You’re awake. How are you feeling?”

“Like death warmed over,” Nicole said, yawning. “Where are we?”

“The rectory behind the chapel,” Father Gonzalez said. “The hospital was overflowing, so they started bringing people here for sanctuary. When I saw you all, I had you brought back here to keep an eye on you all.”

“Thank you,” Nicole said. “I’m not crazy about hospitals, so seriously, thank you.”

“Of course, Mija. Least I can do, given you six saved the city last night.”

“Last night- it’s Halloween still, right?”

“Yeah. Bright early on All Hallows’ Eve,” Gonzalez said. “At least it’s over now.”

“Somehow I doubt that,” Nicole said. She told him of how her most recent encounter with Winona had ended. 

“Well… That…,” Gonzalez started. “I don’t really know what to make of that.”

“Yeah, me neither.”

“But Mija, if what you say is true… You fought off demonic possession on your own. That’s… That’s incredible! Only one other person has ever done that before!”

“Who?” Nicole asked. “Was it another magical girl? Are there, like, precursors to our team that we don’t know about or something?”

“No, actually, it was me,” came a voice from the doorway. Sister Quinn stood in her nun’s habit covered in dirt and grime and blood, her brown face haggard and worn-down. 

“Sister Quinn, you,” Nicole said, “You- that’s amazing! Blue Blazes! How did you-”

“Another time, another place, I’ll be more than happy to tell you about it, Mija,” Sister Quinn responded. “For now, though, I could use your help with healing some of the patients we have out in the church.”

Nicole looked down at her hands and searched within her heart. The pink marble of Light was still in there, but it was dimmer than it had been yesterday. She reached for it, and the Holy Power flowed through her, but her muscles ached and her skull throbbed. She drew in short, sharp breaths as she tried to transform, as pastel ribbons began to form around her but fell apart before she could complete the change. “I don’t think I can,” Nicole said. “What we did last night took a lot of me… Out of all of us.”

“Poor girl,” Sister Quinn said, ambling over to her and putting her hand on Nicole’s forehead. “You must’ve pushed yourself too much, pulled a spiritual muscle of sorts. No fever at least- it’s a miracle you’re even awake right now.”

Nicole sighed. She wanted to go help the people in the church. She wanted to wake up her friends so they could go out and search for Winona and Aidan. She wanted to fix everything so it could all go back to normal… 

… But she couldn’t. She’d over-exerted herself and been benched, at least for the time being. She needed to recharge, or she’d be unable to help anyone. 

Still though… 

“Is there anything I can do to help, though?” she asked. “Bringing people water or something? If anyone’s having trouble walking, I can start working them through the basics of PT.”

“Well I guess we have our proof the possession didn’t take,” Father Gonzalez said wryly. 

“Why don’t you rest a little longer,” Sister Quinn said. “You can help out when you’re back to full capacity, or at least a reasonable facsimile thereof. Okay?” 

Nicole closed her eyes and breathed in and out through her nose. She’d gone through a whole journey last night learning this exact lesson. Time to prove she’d earned the A. “Okay,” Nicole said. “Could I… I dunno, get something to eat then? Start getting my strength back up.”

Father Gonzalez stood up and smiled. “Abe has a stew cooking in the rectory kitchen. I’ll see if they can spare some.”

“Thank you,” Nicole smiled. It was okay, this was okay, for now this was okay. 

Wait, what about-

A thumping sounded over the wooden hallway floor as someone approached. A young man balancing on a cane limped towards them and into the room. 

“Zack,” Nicole sobbed. 

Her brother held his hand over his gut, where his shirt had torn open and everything was stained with blood. A broken, beaten smile graced his face, while he balanced all his weight on the cane. “Hey, sis.”

Two words and everything was okay. Everything was forgiven. Everything was right. 

“Zack!” Nicole found her feet and rushed over and wrapped her arms around her brother. And for the first time in years, he hugged her back. They hadn’t done this since Zack was a little kid- he’d developed an intense aversion to people hugging him sometime around the beginning of middle school. 

“Easy, easy- I got a bullet fished outta me earlier,” Zack said. 

“Oh no!” Nicole said. She pooled Pink Light into her hands, but pain instantly speared her skull. 

“Hey, hey don’t,” Zack said. “You’re hurt too. I’ll be fine until you get your strength up. Besides, I’ve been shot in the gut twice now coming to see you- maybe I oughta live with this one for a little bit.”

Nicole gave a grim chuckle. That was… Shockingly mature of him. Almost too mature. 

“Why don’t we go somewhere where we can talk?” Zack asked. In the light, there was something different about his face than before as well. Usually his beard stubble would be growing back in by now- it always came in thick for him the next morning, but there was none. And his hair looked lighter than its usual dark brown, though that could have simply been the dawn light coming through the windows and refracting off of it. And his voice was… Off. Just slightly higher than it’d been last she’d heard it. 

“Sure,” Nicole said. 

The two siblings limped together out of the room and down the hall into the kitchen, where Abe served them two bowls of beef stew with carrots and potatoes. Nicole wafted the rich, salty scent before spooning a mouthful down her throat. “It’s like I forgot how good food was and then I tasted this and…,” Nicole trailed off. “Mmm!”

“Right?” Zack said. “Almost as good as Mom’s.”

“Almost,” Nicole agreed. “No offense, Abe.”

Abe shrugged, then excused themself, their tan duster brushing the surface of the floor as they left. 

“So,” Nicole said. “Mom gave me a call last night before everything went pear-shaped.”

“Oh yeah?”

“Yeah,” Nicole said. She reiterated what Mom had told her, and then said to Zack, “Is it true?”

“Yeah. It’s all true, Nicole.”

Warmth and joy ran through her as her brother said her real name for the first time. Nicole gulped and smiled, and then she put her hand on Zack’s head and tousled his hair. Then she flicked him on the forehead. 

“Ow!” Zack said. And yet he didn’t… Like it was someone else saying it, someone who hadn’t truly registered the feeling. “What was that for?”

“For getting into a fight and running away and worrying our parents and worrying me! And for everything else you’ve pulled, Zachary,” Nicole grinned. 

“Okay, okay, I deserve that.” 

What the heck is going on? Zack would never say that! “Then explain yourself, boy,” Nicole said, eyes narrow. 

“I just… I couldn’t listen to what they were saying about you. I felt so… So ashamed of myself. Of what I am. It just pissed me off-”

“Language-”

“Don’t,” Zack snapped, a little too much venom in his voice. “I was… I was defending you. Protecting you. The way you do for me.”

“Zack,” Nicole said evenly. “That’s hogwash.”

“God, will you just talk like a normal person for once-”

“Zack, seriously, you need to listen to me-”

“Okay, okay, fine.”

“Thank you,” Nicole said. Maybe it’s just my imagination. Maybe I’m just exhausted and frustrated and this is all bringing up a lot of baggage for me. “Look, I just need to ask: what changed? A month ago, you wanted nothing to do with me. You were ashamed of me. I thought… I thought you hated me. So is it that you actually changed your mind, or is it just that you started getting grief about me in school?”

Zack stirred his stew, then looked up at her with his mouth pressed into a straight line. “Guilt. That’s what changed. The whole time… I felt guilty about what I said to you. I wasn’t ashamed of you, I was ashamed of myself for how I’d acted. I’d been told beforehand I was supposed to think one thing about… About queer people. And then suddenly it turns out we’ve got one in our family. And… I dunno, I guess the Catholic guilt just got to me. You don’t just… Abandon your family because you disagree with what they are.”

“And now? Do you still disagree with what I am? Who I am?”

Zack stared intently into his stew.

“Zack, please answer the question.”

“Honestly?” he said, not looking up. “Yes.”

A fresh lance of pain went through Nicole’s chest. “Are you freaking kidding me?!”

“What, you asked.”

“You could’ve… Could’ve….”

“Lied? You taught me better than that,” Zack said. “Besides, I know I’m wrong and you’re right. I may not like it, but I can learn to live with it.”

Still a butthead. Maybe this is Zack. “Fair enough,” Nicole sighed. “So then why’d you come to see me?”

“I needed to apologize to you in person,” Zack said. “The guilt was eating me alive, keeping me up at night, giving me nightmares, like there was a porcupine wandering around inside my stomach stabbing at the lining all day, every day. I hurt our family, and it’s probably the only thing any of us have, so I wanted… I dunno, wanted to look you in the face and see if I could get an apology out.”

“Okay,” Nicole said. “I’m waiting.”

Zack’s face twisted with what looked like physical pain, and an air of despondency hung from his voice. “I’m sorry, Nicole.”

The first time Zack had ever had to apologize for something, he’d tugged on his ear while doing it. Every time since then, he’d taken his left hand and tugged on his left earlobe. 

Not this time. 

He was either lying… 

… Or this wasn’t Zack.

No powers. Whole team is unconscious. And I’m right next to a church full of wounded civilians, Nicole thought. Blue Blazes. “You’re sorry for what?”

“... For insulting you?”

“Don’t say it like it’s a question, young man.”

“Okay, okay- I’m sorry for insulting you. I’m sorry for… For…”

“For what?”

“For saying you’re not a woman.”

“So am I a woman?” Nicole asked.

“I…”

“Am I a woman?” Nicole asked, voice flattening.

“Well…”

“Are you?” Nicole asked. Perfect- if this is a demon, he’ll try to play it off as a joke. If it’s actually Zack, he’ll get wicked mad at me. 

Zack put his spoon in his bowl and stared into it like it was the most fascinating thing in all the world. A tear dropped down from his eye and shattered on the table. “I don’t know.”

… I’m sorry, what? “I’m sorry, what?”

Zack’s face was an impressionist mural of anguish, all broad angry brushstrokes depicting some brutal inner struggle. “What if I said I might be a girl? What would you do then?”

I’d tell you that I see you and that I care about, and if you want to explore that possibility I’ll support you no matter what conclusion you come away with. But even if that is true, there is no way in heck Zack would ever admit that to me. Not like this. “I’d say I love you no matter what.”

Zack sighed, and rolled his eyes, and said, “Of course you would.”

“What does that mean?” Nicole said, eyes narrowing. 

“I’m just saying that from a certain perspective, that kinda makes it worse. That even after all this, you’re still taking the moral high ground.”

Well this could go either way, then. “Excuse you?”

“I’m just saying, sometimes it is not easy having you for an older sibling.”

“Sister.”

“Right, right of course. But like… You just don’t ever switch off the whole ‘nice, forgiving Christian thing’ do you?”

“It’s who I am.”

“Uh-huh. Sure it is.”

“Same with a woman,” Nicole said. “That’s who I am too.”

“Yes.”

“Is it who you are?”

Zack looked about ready to vomit. “Why do you ask?”

“Why would you say something like what you said just now if not-”

“It was a hypothetical-”

“Weird hypothetical-”

“You’re the one who posed the question in the first place- why’d you do that?” Zack asked. 

Nicole stared straight into her brother’s eyes… And saw something screaming back there behind the pools of blue. “I wanted to make sure that you’re still you.”

“Oh? And what conclusion have you come to, Nick?”

Nicole cringed, then said, “I’m not sure.”

“Heh. You’re not sure. Might be the first time I’ve ever heard that from you. But Zack on the other hand, he’s never sure-”

And there it is. “Don’t you mean ‘you’re never sure?’”

Zack blinked. “Shit.”

Nicole grabbed her brother’s body by the lapel, yanked him from his seat, and slammed him against the wooden wall of the kitchen. She reached into her heart and found a flicker of Holy Light, just a little sliver, just enough to spark on her hands and cause the demon wearing her brother’s flesh to hiss with pain. “Get out of my brother,” Nicole growled. 

“Heh,” the demon smirked. “Your ‘brother.’ Right. Of course. What gave it away?”

“Lotta little things,” Nicole said. “I did practically raise the kid.”

“I have all his memories-”

“Yeah, but not even Zack is this much of a butthead.”

“Satan, you just refuse to talk like a normal person, don’t’cha?”

“So help me, I will drag you into that chapel and throw you on the cross if you don’t LET HIM GO RIGHT NOW!” Nicole screamed. 

“Why do you want this little shit back, exactly?” the demon asked. “Seriously, he hates you. Resents you. Is jealous of you. I can feel it, all that rage and envy and entitlement festering inside him. You don’t even know how much you’ve messed him up-”

Nicole screamed, “FATHER GONZALEZ!”

The priest came running. “What’s going on, Mija!?”

“Gonna need your help taking out some trash,” Nicole said. 

They dragged Zack’s struggling body into the church basement and deposited him in a chair, Father Gonzalez holding a crucifix an inch from Zack’s face as he struggled in Nicole’s arms. They tied him to the chair, and Father Gonzalez pulled out his Bible. He flipped through pages and then slammed his hand into one to stop. He started saying the exorcism rites, the Latin syllables that made Zack’s body wince and cringe. 

“He’ll never forgive you for this,” the demon said, staring into Nicole. 

“I’m saving him,” Nicole said evenly, holding the crucifix in hand, along with the cord for the hanging bucket of Holy Water. 

“You’re dragging him out of the frying pan and into the fire,” the demon growled. “He’s not ready to face the world, not as what he truly is.”

“And what’s that?”

“He’s a tranny, like you,” Zack’s face contorted as the demon spoke, eyes swimming with darkness, sparks of Hellfire erupting from beneath the skin. “This place had all fallen down around him not twelve hours erstwhile, thanks to that lunatic prophet and her manwhore hobo, and without even meaning to he put the whole thing back together again.”

“That doesn’t mean anything- Magical Boys exist-”

“But they need a weapon to channel their powers into,” the demon said. “This little shit didn’t have any such thing. He channeled directly through his hands, and he put humpty-dumpty back together again. But he knew what it meant, and his egg broke open and now he’s desperately trying to piece it back together. Too bad you showed him what it really meant, and now he can’t unsee it. He knows what he really is because of YOU, and he hates you for it!”

Gonzalez screamed a paragraph of Latin, and the demon screeched and spasmed in its chair. Nicole pulled out a Bible as well and looked for the page Gonzalez was on, and began reciting the rites herself. The demon screamed and screamed and screamed, until one of its eyes went from black to blue. “N-Nick? Please, stop hurting me! I’m so scared- you promised you’d never hurt me-”

That was when Sister Quinn walked up from behind them and splashed a goblet of Holy Water onto Zack’s chest. He screamed as both eyes went black again. 

“Don’t listen to it,” Sister Quinn said, “And give me that book. You talk to your sibling. Let us handle the rest.”

“Okay,” Nicole nodded. She turned to her… Sibling and didn’t look away, didn’t blink. “Zack… I know you can hear me. I need you to listen. I love you. And I forgive you. What you said… It hurt me, but I’ve healed since you said it.”

“He doesn’t care,” the demon said. “He doesn’t love you!”

The Latin kept going, and going, and going, and Zack’s body twisted and cracked more and more. Nicole inched closer and knelt down in front of him. “No matter who you are, I’ll protect you. No matter what you do, I’ll protect you. That’s what big sisters are for, okay? We will figure this out together. This demon can’t have you. You don’t have to decide who you are right now, just so long as you come back to our family.”

And Zack screamed, and screamed, and screamed… And his hands began to hum with Holy Light. 

***

In Cass’ dreams, an owl soared through the wreckage of the city of Boston as smoke strangled the sunshine out of the sky and fires burned everything in sight. It flew and flew and flew until it reached a crater where Ditko Hall had formerly resided. 

Where the casing of a bomb sat in the center. 

It had been the first to go off, but not the last. 

That was when she woke up, on her back in the church rectory. She sat up instantly, and registered her unconscious teammates on the ground with her. Her ribs ached and her hands were a mess of bruises and calluses and her skull was like an overused bongo drum. She grinded her teeth together and raked her hand through her hair. 

“Ah, Ms. Ortiz,” the Bishop said as he wheeled himself into the room. His electric wheelchair hummed as it pushed him forward, his haggard face that of someone severely sleep-deprived. “You’re awake- how are you-”

“Where are Nicole and Zack?” she asked, stars dancing in front of her eyes as she climbed onto two feet. 

“Er… Well, Zack is possessed, so they’re performing an exorcism in the church basement.”

Cass ran forward, and immediately fell onto her face. A fresh thud of pain swam through her skull. “Fuck,” she muttered. 

The Bishop offered her a hand up. “What’s the matter-”

“Bombs!” Cass said. “There’s one under Ditko Hall, and there’s more throughout the city.”

“What?! Where?!” 

“I don’t know, at least not for all of them, but Zack’s demon might know! C’mon.”

They raced to the church basement, where Zack was tied to a chair snarling and glowing with radiance equal parts white and black while Father Gonzalez and Sister Quinn performed the rites. Nicole held her sibling’s hand as she knelt in front of them, whispering to them what were presumably words of reassurance. 

“Wait!” Cass cried as puffs of acrid smoke began to billow out of Zack’s mouth. 

Everything went silent, save for the demon’s cries. 

“Cass, what are you doing?!” Nicole demanded. 

“Bombs! There are bombs! Winona and the Sin-Eater put bombs around the city!”

“We’ve already called the police about the one under Ditko Hall,” the Bishop explained. “But there are at least six others, according to Ms. Ortiz.”

“Dios,” Father Gonzalez said, rubbing his face. 

“Where are the other bombs!” Cass said, marching over to Zack’s battered body. “WHERE?!”

“Heheheheheh,” the demon giggled as the white light slowly faded and black sparks shot out from him. Nicole grunted as steam leaked from their joined hands, and she pulled away from him. “I’ll never tell.”

“If you don’t wanna wind up back in the Floodwater, you’ll TALK!” Cass said. 

“Oh please, you’re sending me there anyway, so this idiot can have her precious little brother back,” the demon said. “There’s literally nothing for me to gain by cooperating with you clowns! And it looks like you’ve got a choice- you can try to torture the information out of me without accidentally killing this stupid little fag, or you can go out and look for the bombs. On foot, presumably, given how well your powers are working-”

Nicole took a deep breath, and then erupted with pink light. Ribbons surrounded her, and Cass heard the song of angels ring from above as she appeared resplendent in her Magical Girl form. 

“HOW?!” the demon howled. “HOW ARE YOU-”

“THE POWER OF LOVE!” she snapped. “NOW SHUT UP AND GET OUT OF MY SIBLING!” Nicole poured White Light into her hands, but it flickered and dimmed the harder she concentrated on it. 

“HA!” the demon said.

“Fine then,” Nicole said, breathing in long, slow breaths. The light around her hands turned to Pink, and she offered a hand to Cass. “I’ve only got enough for one, and you’re here, and you’re a Prophet, and you’re almost as fast a flier as me-”

Cass grinned. “Almost?”

“Shut up and gimme a high five, Ortiz.”

“Heh. Absolutely, Nygaard.”

Cass took her hand, and her ribs stitched back together, and her hands smoothed and relaxed as the carpal tunnel was massaged out of them. She reached for the Word of God as it echoed inside her soul, and she let it scream out into the world as she transformed. 

She stood in her red dress with her red hat and summoned her broom. The world spun around her briefly, but she shook her head and steadied herself. “Let’s do this.”

Nicole turned to Father Gonzalez and Sister Quinn. “You take care of Zack- I want them back to normal by the time I’m back.” She turned to the demon. “Zack. It’s like I said before. No matter who you are, who you wanna be, it’s okay. Who you were before, even with the mistakes you made, is okay too. You can be that person, or whomever you wanna be. I love you, and I will protect you no matter what, but if I’ve learned anything this past month it’s that you need to love and protect yourself as well. And that starts with forgiving yourself. So please try. I know it’s scary in there, drowning in the Floodwater, but I promise you that you have the strength and virtue to rise above it. I will be back for you, I promise.”

And with that, they left. They told Abe to wake up the others as soon as possible to have them look around the church for bombs while the clergy members worked on exorcizing the demon from Zack. They stepped out into the city and launched into the air. The wind wrapped around Cass as all the troubles of the world on the ground reached up to pull her back down.

“Are you okay?” Cass asked. 

“No,” Nicole said. 

Huh. She’s usually not that straight-up, Cass thought. 

“Are you okay?” Nicole asked.

“I will be once we find all these bombs,” Cass said. 

“Where are we looking for them?” Nicole asked. “Should we split up to search?”

“My vision put the big craters and blast zones at city landmarks- Faneuil Hall, Paul Revere’s House, and Fenway Park were the three I know I saw, but I don’t know exactly where in any of those cases,” Cass said as they shot towards the Freedom Trail.

“Then let’s start with those- the cops are already spread thin because of last night, and if the National Guard is coming I don’t see them yet.”

“Gotcha. I’ll take Paul Revere, you take Faneuil,” Cass said. “After that, let’s meet up at Fenway and take it from there.”

“Sounds good!” Nicole said, shooting off like a pink rocket, gritting her teeth and bunching her fists. 

“Never seen her this determined,” Cass said idly. Then she furrowed her brow. “Better try to keep up!”

And off she flew, a crimson streak across the dawn-lit sky. 

***

Amy woke up to a rough jostling. She opened her eyes and saw Abe standing over her, shaking her awake. She felt like she’d been run over with a road roller, but the look on Abe’s face told her she needed to stand up. 

They explained the situation to her as the two of them woke up the others. When everyone was awake and told to fan out and look, however, Amy turned to Abe and said, “Take me to them. To Zack, I mean. I need to give him a piece of my mind.”

“Which one? Zack or the demon?” Abe asked. 

“Both,” she said as she marched into the basement while the others searched for the bombs. “I think my methods of persuasion will help as well.”

Father Gonzalez and Sister Quinn screamed in Latin while the demon wearing Zack’s skin rose up and down and spat out plumes of Hellfire. Spear in hand, Amy snuffed out all the black flames and walked over to the chair. 

She grabbed Zack by the hair and pulled him in close. “Hi. We haven’t really talked before. My name’s Amy, and I’m infatuated with your big sister. What say we have a heart to heart while the clergy does its job?”

***

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[theboysfromaustin]

NOTE: There are gay-related slurs in this. The characters using them are not good people. If you can't handle it, skip this.

----

January 20, 2009

Jeremy sighed softly, heading up the path to his house - the house he'd grown up in, the house he and Meredith had shared for many years.  He paused - the kitchen light was on, and he knew he'd shut the lights off.  Must be a short, he thought as he unlocked the door.  Tomorrow, he'd have his first nurse visit.  He decided that, since he was alone, he should have someone who could come check on him.

He missed Ian.

He missed Ian's family. 

Jeremy headed for the kitchen to check the light.  He turned the corner, freezing.  “You really are back.” “That's a shame, innit?” “Don.  Henry,” Jeremy's voice was clipped, “How terrible to see you.” “Awww, you've been gone well over a year, aren't we friends?” “No.  Not for a long time.” “Where you been?” Don tapped his fingers on the table.

“Traveling.”

“How's Ian?”

Jeremy froze.

Henry grinned, “That's a real cute photo of you two.” Jeremy inhaled sharply, eyes going wide.  “Should have figured you liked it up the arse.  It's disgusting - you and Ian together…” “That fucking poof ran off to America.  We should have drowned him the last time…” Jeremy stepped back, “You…Ian's more man than both of you…”

“Is that what he told you while he bummed you?” Don sneered. “He loves me. He cares about me…” “He ran away like a coward for 30 years!  I saw the other photos, he likes ‘em young, eh?” “At least his family loves and respects him.  Your brats are as bad as you, and Don, you cheat on your wife every chance you…”

Jeremy was shoved backwards into the wall, dishes and photos rattling as Don pressed one hand into his chest.  The redhead smirked, feeling his heart race out of control, “Where is he?” “I-i…h-h-had to come home, f-for M-m-meredith…” “Did she know you're a fag?” Jeremy looked away, still ashamed he'd kept the truth from her.

“She didn't…” Henry said in a sing-song voice, “She deserved better, Jezza.” “Why are you doing this?  I'm already dying,” Jeremy spat.  “Not fast enough for our liking.  Maybe we'll go find Ian.  I think he'd like to see us.” “Don't you dare do anything to him!  I don't give a shit what you do to me, leave him be!” Tears were streaming down his face.

These two must have found his spare key while he was away.  He knew this might be it, they might take out all their pent-up rage on him.  His only regret now…

Not staying.

Henry stepped up, staring him down.  Jeremy glared back, refusing to show any more fear.  “You chose him over us.” “You two let yourselves become hateful.  You threw away your friendship with Ian, and with me.” Don whistled, “That would have been real poetic, I'm sure, but I couldn't hear you around the cocks in your gob.”

Something snapped.

He lunged forward, driving Don back, fists raining a volley of blows on him.  Henry lunged, but Don yelled something that made Jeremy's blood run cold: “Don't leave any suspicious marks!  It has to look like an accident!”

Jeremy chose to fight.

Breathing heavily, lungs burning, he rained punches on Don, skirting by Henry.  “You fat little cunt!” Henry caught him by the arm and back of the shirt.  Jeremy struggled, glaring at both of them, “You'll both burn for this.” “You're a degenerate.” “You should have stayed with your faggot lover, Jezza,” Henry tightened his grip, grinning. 

Jeremy braced himself, but wasn't fast enough to react as Henry drew him back, and slammed him into the corner of his kitchen table.  His forehead hit just above the left eyebrow, his glasses clattering across the floor.  There was a vicious crack as flesh and bone split.  Jeremy slumped to the floor, vision fading in and out.

“Let's go.”

“They'll think he fell.”

“Ngh…” Jeremy tried to reach his glasses.  He heard them leave, but couldn't get up.  His head hurt, and he couldn't focus, “Ian…help…”  Blood was streaming down his face, and he sighed, resting his face on the floor.

Jezza!

Come on Jeremy, we're goin' to Quack's!

Jez, I…I'm so happy…

I love you, Jeremy.  I…will…

I will always love you.

“Ian…I'm sorry, baby…” Jeremy sighed deeply, “I'll see you again…I'll wait for you…”  He shut his eyes one last time, giving in to sleep, alone on his kitchen floor, life ended by his former friends.

Nobody would ever know the truth, not even Ian.

[sevikasleftpussyflap]

You can't tell me that Sevika's strap game isn't god-tier. LOOK AT HER AND TELL ME TO MY FACE THAT SHE DOESN'T HAVE THE BEST STRAP GAME IN THE WHOLE OF ZAUN. GO ON, I'LL WAIT.

HBFHBHEBIB my second username of choice was sevikasstickystrapon

Warnings: Smut, MDNI, subspace, overstimulation, sevikas sticky strap

Literally any pace would have you falling apart. She's all about the motion of the ocean and she will take all night discovering what gets you to make those pretty sounds for her

You're so responsive for her that she might think she's your first

If she's not, you'd tell her that no one's made you feel like that before/made you come that many times in one night

This would honestly piss her off and she'd want the names and addresses of your previous lovers bc it is SO EASY FOR HER to please you

Which means they weren't trying so they need death :)

"I was wringing you dry last night, the fuck?" You'd be a blushing mess at her words, her protectiveness, and the memories

You'd defensively ask her if she had ever made someone come like that

"Have you never made someone come before?" You stuttered out defensively, cheeks alight with embarrassment. A low chuckle meets your ears, smug at your naivety of her reputation. "Honey, I have. But never that many times in one night. You came every time I stuck my strap in you."

She'll be fucking you so good and you can't help but claw at her back, ignoring her no touching command and leaving red welts in your wake

"Hands." She growls. Your bliss is interrupted by her stern tone, nails retract and arms cautiously wrap around her neck. She stills and barks the command again but you don't want to let go of her. "No, please I just want to hold you." To her dismay, this softens some part of her and she kisses you, irritated. She'll start fucking you harder and you'll be clawing her up again, but she'll put up with it this time

Sevika is an absolute menace when it comes to over stimulation. If you work yourself too hard during the day, she's gonna make you relax. You'll just have to lay there and take what she gives you

She loves the face you make when you're fucked stupid, all of the worry and stress of the day gone

So she'll want to see it again and again and again

I hc that you're her first true relationship. With her job she never really had time for anything serious. The brothel was there for a stress reliever when she needed it (and she needed it a lot)

So you're the first thing that's truly hers. There's no sharing you with anyone, she has someone to call her own and she's gonna show you her appreciation

Also take a little half-assed drabble:

Moans filled the room. You were bent over the table, stuffed absolutely full by Sevika's strap. She didn’t even have to move the large toy in your cunt, wet dripping down your thighs, squeezed together as if that would stop her from breaching your entrance. You tried to move as little as possible, every movement overwhelming as the toy filled and pressed against the entirety of your walls. Whimpers fell endlessly from your lips, thighs slick and slipping together. When your eyes weren’t squeezed shut, they were rolled to the back of your head. Gentle pets against your hair comforted you as you moaned, overstimulated from every sensation. 

“Good, baby?” 

Your nod was sluggish and cut short when she pulled out slightly. The noises that fell out of your mouth were not under your own volition as the strap slid back inside you. Somehow her slow humping was more overwhelming, each drag rubbing against that one spot and bringing you to the edge faster than any harsh thrust would.

When you fall over your scream is guttural, sobs ripping from your throat when she continues those measured thrusts.

“‘Vika‘Vika‘Vika-”

“It’s alright, just lay there and enjoy it. Take what I give you.”

Your head was fuzzy, comprehending nothing but the feelings she drew from you and her gentle commands. Dutifully, you laid there spread for her, letting her use you and unravel every shred of coherence until there was nothing but her. 

“How am I supposed to stop when you keep making those pretty noises for me?”

Lips brushed your ear, breath casting over your cheek and sending shivers down your spine. You were wailing, sobs and moans falling from your mouth, intensifying when a hand lifted your thigh to give her more access.

“That’s right, open up for me.” 

Thrust.

“That’s-”

Thrust.

“-it.”

It felt like you couldn’t stop coming. Her hands massaged your tense muscles until you were boneless, every touch feeling like a kiss. Ink smudged beneath you from your tears, whatever document she was working on before was absolutely ruined. Like you.

You whimpered as she pulled out, shushing you before her warmth left you completely. Metal clanked against porcelain, something falling to the ground followed by a muffled “-shit.” You could only focus on your heartbeat pounding in your chest, the pulsing throb between your thighs.

Time didn’t exist. You had no idea if she’d been gone for five seconds or five minutes. Warm, calloused hands rested on your thighs and you pliantly spread them, slightly pushing your hips up and presenting yourself to her.

“That’s good, baby. But we’re done with that.” Words dripping with amusement weren’t enough to snap you out of your haze. A rag lightly cleaned between your thighs, mesmerizing her with your glistening arousal. Sevika smiled softly when you pushed back as the cloth wiped over your entrance, thighs parting again. 

“Eager to please, huh?” 

The rich oak wood slid against your cheek as your head bobbled in a nod, halted by hands now cradling your cheeks. “We’re through, sweet thing. Come back to me.”  

Sevika watched as your bleary eyes slowly crept into focus, a sleepy smile settling on your face.

“Hi.”

Your quiet voice was met with her chuckles. 

“Hey, babygirl. You good?” 

“Uh-huh.” 

The sight of you utterly spent brought a satisfied smile to Sevika’s face. She loved being able to give you the pleasure you deserved, that it was her that was able to take away all of your worries until you were floating in the clouds. Sevika wasn’t used to having someone to call her own. She had favorites at the brothel, sure, but they were never entirely hers. Now here you are, someone she could never tire of, who she always looked forward coming home to, who she could ply with riches, status, and sex until you were sick of it. 

She never thought it would be possible to feel this way about another person and now she made sure to give her thanks to you in her own way, making sure your needs were met and that any stress of the day was fucked away before you slept. Of course to you, she was just your hyper sexual partner.

After she was able to get some water in you, combating the whines with coaxing pets and encouraging praises, a bowl of fruit found itself in her metal hand. Your grumbling protests were ignored as you were hoisted into her lap.

“I wanna sleep, Sev.”

“A few bites for me, c’mon.” 

By the third bite, you were mostly back to yourself and gave her finger a nip when it pushed a berry to your mouth.

“Brat. For you to behave, I have to fuck you stupid? Is that what it takes?”

Burning cheeks hid in her collar bone, a teasing little “maybe” muttered into her skin.

“I’ll keep that in mind.”